Page 8 of Her Alien Savior
So, obviously they knew each other.
“You act as if I’ve betrayed you, when it is you who have betrayed our people when you did not take your place at King Sylve’s side, or better yet duel for the future of Necias Prime,” the large spikey warrior named Chuel said in Trillix, which my translator had no problem deciphering, then spat at our bound feet eliciting a growl from my flirting companion. By the many lengthy spikes protruding from Chuel’s shoulders he was ranked quite high within the tribe of this ship. And I hadn’t noticed it before, but it seemed all of them had the same eye color, a golden amber yellow, like Earth’s Citrine gems. This new warrior wasn’t unattractive, but I had no desire to flirt with the one that just entered. What did that say about me?
Riley, you have a thing for the unattainable. Keep flirting with the animal of an alien that didn’t seem to understand a thing or two about self-preservation. Getting himself shocked with his restraints multiple times, and his lack of control was probably why he was in here to begin with. Guess that’s why I picked a life off planet.
An alien being accused of betrayal, that will probably never see the outside of a jail cell again once we reached Trillume was up there in unattainable marks. If we reached Trillume... Did they take criminals to a whole different planet like the sci-fi movies? Good luck doing any escape schemes when an entire planet could be your jail cell. I would shiver at the thought, but unlike my cellmate, I was not keen on getting electrocuted.
“Hooman,” Chuel nodded to me in greeting, ignoring the scowls from across from us, “King Sylve believes you can help us reach the trill named Klemon, and help save Necias Prime.” He was being civil, aside from addressing me as human, his tone was kind, and almost reverent like I was some sort of fragile goddess about to free his people from blight, all for simply leading them to my almost alien host.
“Pardon my confusion, but how exactly is Klemon supposed to save Necias Prime?” I asked while he touched a keypad displayed on his forearm that released my bonds. I rubbed at my wrists, my once captor gently scooped them both up in his large hands and kissed my bruises from his tight hold as if in apology, before the whole scene was cut short with the smell of burning flesh.
It wasn’t mine.
I glanced around Chuel to see my cell companion struggling against his bonds, uncaring of how the straps around his neck, biceps, wrists, and calves sizzled with electricity coursing through him. His once amber eyes were black, and terrifying, making me stumble back in alarm.
Chuel caught me about my waist, and the fury of my criminal companion intensified, only now horns grew out of his scalp pointing downwards that must be some sort of exoskeleton defense of the necia, but I was more worried about the pain the warrior was going to feel, after all the shocks to his system he was getting for moving within restraints that would have killed a human instantly.
“Stop!” I cried, and his body stilled, watching me through shadowed eyes, his pupils had taken over the whole of his eyes. If he were human that would have made him sensitive to light, but he didn’t wince, he didn’t even blink.
“I apologize, hooman. If I had known this criminal was in rut, I would have come to retrieve you sooner,” Chuel pulled me in closer, “There is no need to fear, the bonds are made to secure the most unruly of warriors.”
“The only thing I am guilty of is trusting you,” the feral warrior gritted back, his voice was hoarse and possibly dehydrated from being electrocuted.
“Hooman, let us go,” Chuel said while gently guiding me away.
“She has a name, or do you prefer to be called necia instead of Second Commander Chuel, The Traitor?”
“It’s simply Commander, now,” there was a prideful jibe to his declaration, but all I could focus on was that this so-called criminal was defending me on something as small as a name, and I didn’t even know his.
All of the sudden, it really mattered to me that this Commander Chuel called me by my name, and that if even this criminal wanted to call me by name, the commander should have known it from my file. “The name is Riley,” I said slowly, emphasizing every syllable while removing myself from within Chuel’s arm hold. Stepping to the side ever so sweetly, I held a hidden mischievious warning in my eyes that spoke of rebellion should anyone press their chances with touching me once more.
As big as these aliens were, if they didn’t read my file to know my name, then they didn’t know that I was considered a lethal weapon with all the training I had in weapon handling. Sure, I didn’t have a weapon on me, besides my fists and feet, but he certainly was a weapon and I’d use my small stature to wield his own strength against him as I would any weapon.
There was relief when Chuel didn’t advance, and my criminal helper was a bit calmer himself, but his eyes were still black, not having returned to their amber golden state just yet.
“Riley,” my cell-mate said while I stared at his dark eyes, as if testing my name on his lips, and committing it to his memory. I liked the way he said it, as if promising things that I knew weren’t possible for one in his position. Even if he weren’t a criminal, Joel said necia warriors of low rank weren’t selected to host humans, and they certainly weren’t selected for time off from their duties to do the kinds of things my body was humming to do to him. His shoulder epul was sign enough he wasn’t ranked high in the tribe even before being detained as a criminal.
“Don’t even think about it,” Chuel warned in a low tone to the bound warrior. “Your restraints will have you knocked out before you ever lay a finger on her. I’d get comfortable if I were you, Direl.”
The way he said the name felt pointed, like he was making a point to only say his first name and not whatever title he once had. There wasn’t a need to be nasty about things, this Direl had been thoughtful enough to want my name to be used instead of calling me human, so that put him above whatever ranking this guy had in my mind.
“You can’t leave him here like that,” I tried to insist, wrinkling my nose at the smell of burning flesh. The electric bonds had done a number on Direl, and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving without knowing some sort of doctor would be making sure he was okay. Even my contract with the exchange had clauses discussing the advancements of the medical technology beyond what we’re used to on Earth for our safety, so I was certain they’d have a medical bay on the ship. “If he’s in some sort of rut like you said then he might not be able to stop himself from moving and he already smells like he’s one shock away from being a shishcabob.”
“This sheeshhkabud isn’t translated, but I assure you, Direl will be fine. The energy won’t go deeper than the second flesh beneath his epul, these restraints were designed with necia warriors in mind. He won’t die,” Commander Chuel said while guiding me out the door. I winced at the strangled sound of Direl breathing through what must have been another shock from moving within his bonds, until I glanced over my shoulder to see him slumped against the neck strap... unconscious.
The only thing I could think of was that perhaps he won’t die but he might wish he had if that smell was any indication of how much pain he would be in later.
“Is there something you can give him to help with the burns?” I didn’t want to leave him like that, but it didn’t seem like I had much of a choice.
Led away from my temporary stay in the holding cell we met up with the warrior I’d seen earlier when the shuttle was boarded. The warrior’s striking white hair was a contrast to the dark auburn hair of Chuel, but the warrior in the holding cell had a mix of black and white, and none of them appeared old. Perhaps the white didn’t have to do with age for the necia warriors like it did with humans, perhaps similar to albinism? Chuel’s voice interrupted my thoughts on their genetics.
“King Sylve.” Commander Chuel placed his fist to his chest and then I blinked in astonishment watching as his shoulder spikes drew themselves back into his shoulders, underneath what was apparently their “second” skin that I hoped had less nerve endings than human skin, because that didn’t seem pleasant. “I present to you the hooman,” he paused, “named Riley.” I nodded my approval, and he smiled back at me making me feel awkward.
“Yes, I was the one that found her on the shuttle, if you recall,” King Sylve said waving off Commander Chuel in a dismissive manner to resume his duties, which the warrior took to mean he could extend his shoulder spikes once more and stand guard at the door all brooding-like.
“I think there has been a misunderstanding,” I began, “I don’t know anything about Klemon, other than she agreed to teach me how to help some scientists with alien reproductive studies. I don’t even know how to contact her. I’m just supposed to show up at Trillume like any other H.E.T. exchange.”
He lifted a hand to stop my rant, and I was sure I would have continued to blab about anything and everything until he said something to the extent of, I was free to go.
