Page 9 of Deserted

“As I said, sixteen hours minimum before communications can be restored.” I kept my voice neutral, professional. “Legion protocol will then dictate extraction procedures.”

She leaned forward to study the screen, her long braid sliding over her shoulder. “And what exactly does ‘extraction’ mean for me? Are we talking comfy spaceship ride back to Earth, or something more...invasive?”

The word ‘invasive’ conjured images from our shared dream that I immediately suppressed. I cleared my throat.

“Standard quarantine and decontamination. Debriefing.” I hesitated, then added reluctantly, “Memory protocols may be implemented.”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Memory protocols? As in, making me forget? Oh hell no. That’s not happening.”

I should have explained that it was non-negotiable, that Legion security was paramount. Instead, I found myself saying, “That decision is beyond my authority.”

It wasn’t a promise, but it wasn’t a denial either. The lie of omission sat uncomfortably between us.

She studied my face for a long moment, as if trying to read truth in my alien features. “We’ll see about that,” she finally said, the determination in her voice making something in my chest tighten with admiration.

I moved us along to the food preparation area—little more than a narrow counter with built-in heating elements and a small conservation unit for rations. Standard Legion fare: protein compounds, nutrient supplements, hydration capsules. Nothing that would appeal to human tastes, but it would keep her alive.

“You require sustenance,” I said, reaching past her to access the storage compartment. Our arms brushed, the brief contact sending electricity through my skin. I froze for a fraction of a second, fighting the instinct to pull her closer, to wrap myself around her and never let go.

She didn’t seem to notice my momentary lapse, busy examining the strange packages I was arranging on the counter.

“Please tell me that’s not all freeze-dried space cardboard,” she said, poking at one of the ration packs.

“It contains all necessary nutrients for?—”

“For survival, yeah, I get it.” She sighed dramatically. “No pizza delivery out here in the space boonies, I guess.”

I unwrapped one of the nutrient bars and offered it to her. “This one contains proteins similar to your Earth nuts. Almonds, I believe.”

She took it with a raised eyebrow. “You know about almonds?”

Of course I did. I’d studied Earth extensively during my training. Known Terran weaknesses, strengths, cultural touchpoints. But I couldn’t tell her that. “Legion data files are...thorough.”

She bit into the bar and made a face, but continued eating. I watched her throat work as she swallowed, entranced by the simple movement. In our dream, I had tasted the salt of her skin there, felt her pulse against my tongue.

“Water?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.

She nodded, and I retrieved a hydration pack for her. Our fingers brushed during the exchange, and I withdrew mine perhaps too quickly. Her scent had changed subtly—still citrus and spice, but with a new note I recognized all too well. Arousal. Faint but undeniable.

Did she remember our dream? Feel the pull between us? Or was it simply a biological response to stress and proximity?

“So,” she said after draining half the pack, “where do I sleep? Or do you expect me to stand at attention all night like a good little prisoner?”

I led her to the final doorway. Inside was a compact sleeping chamber—one narrow bunk built into the wall, storage beneath it, environmental controls nearby.

“You will rest here,” I said, adjusting the temperature settings to better suit human comfort levels. “I will remain in the monitoring station.”

She looked at the bunk, then back at me, her expression skeptical. “That’s barely big enough for me. Where do you usually sleep?”

“Here.” The word escaped before I could consider its implications.

She smirked. “Well, this just got awkward.”

I stiffened, desperately searching for the right response. “I require less rest than humans,” I finally said. “And there are emergency provisions I can utilize.”

In truth, I had no intention of sleeping while she was here. Not if it meant risking another Unity dream. Not when the reality of her was mere steps away, testing my control with every breath, every movement, every flash of those dark eyes.

“If you say so, big guy.” She yawned suddenly, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion she’d been fighting. “God, I’m tired. Being portaled to an alien death planet really takes it out of a girl.”

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