Page 8 of Soren

That should have been the end of it, but we got greedy. After coming back from war, our females began to have miscarriage after miscarriage. It was too widespread to be a coincidence. The health organization launched an investigation, and the results were grim.

The experimental serum -- Alpha, they called it -- altered our DNA. It changed us from the inside out, and without a specific genetic match, carrying a pregnancy to term was no longer guaranteed.

Enter the Intergalactic Surrogacy Program.

It wasn't our first choice, but we were running out of options. Humans were some of the most adaptable species in the whole of the universe. Their genetics made them the perfect universal breeder.

It just so happened that we had something they wanted, and they had something we needed. So the treaty was born.

Now the first shipment of females is late, and I'm starting to wonder if we should have put our trust in Earthlings after all. At long last, a call sign appears on the port monitor. They're coming. They're close.

I let out a breath and straighten my uniform before turning on my heel and heading for the gate. The whole way, my mind buzzes with questions and not enough answers. What would the females be like? Would they be kind, or hostile? And -- the most important question of all -- could they bear our children?

I frown at the thought, running a hand along my braids. If this failed...

No. It wouldn't. It couldn't.

And as for the females? As long as they could carry a child, it didn't much matter what they looked or acted like. I reminded myself for the umpteenth time that it was nothing more than a transaction. Something they want for something we want. Both parties leave happy.

Right?

The sky flushes with red and orange as the ship drops out of the sky, engines powering down as it glides toward the docking gate. Thank the fates, the ship's even in one piece. The heavy doors of the bay slide open to welcome the craft, magnets guiding it to communication and maintenance connectors. A crew rushes out to meet it, and I stand on the balcony looking down. My long fingers grip the metal railing with unusual impatience.

I had seen wars and battles aplenty, and made decisions that directed the very fate of our planet. Yet now, as a cargo ship docked with what might be the most important freight we'd ever seen, I was nervous.

Preposterous.

I came here to observe. To be a silent escort and take the females to their new homes in the breeding center.

But that's when it hits me.

A scent, so unlike anything I've ever smelled before. It hits me like a tidal wave, engulfing my senses and blocking out everything else. A chill runs down my spine and my mouth runs dry.

The ramp extends painfully slowly, echoing down on the floor with a dull clang. The smell gets stronger, and I grip the railing so tightly my knuckles turn white. What is this? What is happening to me?

The surrogacy agency spoke of this, though only briefly. They said that we would know when we'd found a match. I'd asked for clarification, but all they did was smile.

"You'll just know."

And with that delicious scent bearing down on me, I can believe it.

My mate -- my omega -- is inside that ship.

The doors hiss open at long last and I hold my breath. First the pilot, then the officers. They're not what I'm here for. Time slows to a crawl as passengers file into the dock. I scan the crowd, searching for the source of that scent. But the more people that fill the dock, the more the scent fades. Muddles.

I curse under my breath. I want to go down there, to check every one of them until I find her. But I stand my ground. I have a job to do and expectations to uphold, just as she does.

I've stood unflinching in the face of certain destruction before. I've faced down murderous pirates and ravaging hordes. This is no different.

Except instead of my body being in danger, it's my heart.

Wait. There.

In the back of the group, a small figure hesitates. She looks around the bustling landing bay, her eyes wide and her brow creased. She clutches a worn satchel to her chest, as if it will protect her from this strange new world. Then she looks up, and by chance or fate itself, our eyes meet.

It's her. It's only a brief second of contact, but now I know. It's her.

My heart stops. She looks so lost. So small. So afraid. An ache blooms, deep within my heart and spreading outward.

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