“Agreed.”
***
THE HUMAN FEMALE WASnear.
Over the last few weeks I had familiarized myself with her delectable scent and could track her now with little difficulty. She always used the same clean, slightly floral hair products as well as a coconut body wash. The mixture was unique. It took days for my senses to acclimate to such foreign odors, yet I didn’t find them repulsive. The opposite, actually. She was nearly intoxicating. Same with that hint of mint on her breath occasionally although I had only gotten close enough to notice the night that I met her at Riley’s, a human meeting place to consume alcohol. These humans certainly enjoyed complicated mixtures of scents as well as confusing behaviors.
It wasn’t until I had already pushed forward eagerly to meet the human that I noticed the female’s features clearly. Before that moment I had tracked her bio-signs and paid little attention other than height, approximate weight, and other basic markers of her human composition. Only a few steps away in the bar, I became increasingly aware of her beauty and allure.
Dark hair, flashing green eyes, slender build and soft curves – all the same as the young human I had seen months ago when I was briefed by the council on Vindar. Images of the video rose to the surface and I was filled with both shock and confusion.
Who was this human female? How was she related to the captive?
Her features were nearly identical to the one attacked and destroyed so viciously on camera. Was it possible that the human government was keeping secrets? To what end?
I was left with more questions than answers when Valtus discreetly grabbed my arm and frowned, ticking his head toward the female. She was openly curious but suspicious of my covered face. I offered her a drink, but her friend declined on her behalf, proving they were both finished for the evening, much to my relief. Retreating from sight, I ensured her safe arrival home before joining Valtus back on theVindicator.
That was in the past now. My current mission must take precedence. Whether the female fought my insistence or not, I intended to bring her back to Vindar as soon as possible. That decision was slightly delayed when new Intel was discovered that her sister from ISP was due to arrive this evening. I was eager to observe the meeting.
Tucked into an alcove across the street from the human’s current position, I smoothed my fingertip over my handheld device and double checked the reading. Her vital signs appeared on my screen as I lifted my head and scanned the vicinity. The female’s heartrate was normal, respiration within expected range. I relaxed. No threat or indication that anything was amiss.
I’d been following the female for some time, precisely since the minute she entered her training facility, oddly named Pumped Fitness. From what I could tell, the equipment was adequate for a rigorous workout, but she seemed to enjoy something calledyoga. Just last night I investigated thisgymand watched some of the classes trying to learn more about these humans and their interest in various forms of training. I wasn’t impressed.
Braxtharian warriors would scoff at such primitive forms of exercise.
I would know. I commanded a large legion and oversaw the training schedule and regimen myself, organizing the rigorous workouts that required discipline and extensive personal sacrifice. Our males were battle hardened and strong. This was how we protected our home world for generations, so manyspanthat I lost count of the multitude.
Unlike the Braxtharians of Vindar, these humans were completely oblivious to their surroundings. Untrained and undisciplined, I saw nothing that would indicate they were ready to enter the Galactic Conclave. My opinion was taken under consideration and rejected. The Braxtharian council agreed with my report, but the Conclave made their choices apart from the other thirty-five percent of species who agreed humanity was far too primitive.
This wasn’t the first time that an attempt was made. First contact was well over a century ago and humans still weren’t ready. The Cardinal Edict was rigidly enforced for this exact reason. Introducing higher tech and alien culture could compromise their society. And so, the humans had been left alone . . . until fifty of their years ago when the Interstellar Space Program was created.
My people had stayed clear of any human involvement until now.
There wasn’t a choice to be involved after the council’s intervention and my recent briefing. The survival of Vindar demanded our response. Once the directive had been issued, all of the previous rules were dissolved in an instant. The desperate need of my people superseded any negative impact upon the human culture by the Braxtharian race. Time would decide if that choice was fortune or folly.
Moving from the shadows, I spotted the human female as she left the gym and headed toward her place of dwelling, oddly enough calledhome. The wind blew her scent in my direction as I inhaled and smiled, feeling comforted by a scent that was no longer foreign to my senses. Slowing my brisk pace, I tried to keep my distance even as I longed to close the gap between us. There was something about this female that snared my interest more than any other that I had ever met. The knowledge wasn’t as unwelcome as I would have thought.
My quills trembled along my spine as I sensed another presence and my thoughts were interrupted. The scent wasn’t human. I inhaled deliberately and smelled the distinct and rotten odor of the Tylons. Their oozing tentacles smelled like raw fish and secreted a toxic poison that caused their victims to fall unconscious. A cowardly and disgusting lure for their intended prey.
Veet!
Just my luck.
A quick glance at the female’s vital signs proved she was in distress.
Crouching low, I whispered as the comms engaged with Valtus back on theVindicator. “Tylon vital signs detected. Female appears to be in danger. I’m closing in.”
MyFirstanswered with a snarl. “Understood, Commander. I’ll monitor all vitals.”
I shoved my device into one of the pockets on my pants – oddly called cargo jeans – and moved forward stealthily. The dark night was nearly cloudless with a pale moon that shone in willowy and sparse beams. The meager light was more of a faded glow that didn’t hinder my sight or the Tylons but would certainly slow the human female. Partially blinded, she wouldn’t suspect the attack until it was too late. As I rounded the next corner, I caught the light as it bounced off red scales.
Veet!
Not only Tylons but Zhorn, too. Slavers!
A thick scaly tale was wrapped around the female’s waist as she screamed and began pounding on her attacker’s flesh. For a moment I was struck dumb by her courage and subsequent stupidity. The Zhorn had fierce tempers. Their reputation for brutality and rage was infamous.
Pulling my hood forward farther to prevent discovery of my identity, a small snarl issued from my throat. It wasn’t until I had already rushed forward eagerly to engage in combat that I noticed the female’s injury. Her skin was raw around her neck, discolored and slightly swollen.
