Page 101 of Stripped By the Alien

I release her slowly. For the first time, I understand that Nora’s becoming stronger because she knows I might fail.

My first impulse is anger. A Chief Harrower does not fail.

But watching her reset her stance, small and bare-knuckled and utterly serious, I find that the offense won't come. What comes instead is something closer to shame. Not because she doubts me, but because she may be right to.

She steps back and raises her guard again. Her small hands should look ridiculous in that position, but the determination in her eyes would give any attacker pause. "Again?"

I study her for a long moment. The determination is there, but there’s also something else that I can’t quite place. Finally I raise my hands. "Agai–"

Suddenly the whole chamber shakes as the Beast tightens up.

I grab Nora to keep her upright. “She’s seen something.”

The pulsations through the ship speed up as we both quickly make our way to the command chamber.

“Chief Harrower!” the navigation chief exclaims. “There are two ships attacking us!”

Through the Beast’s eyes I see the shadows of two ships against the stars of the galaxy. “Which brood?”

“We don’t think they are from a brood, sir! They look like Gzet!”

I zoom in with one giant lens. “Ah. Shiny and made from metal. Remarkably ugly. Yes, those are Gzet.”

“They’re coming straight at us, sir!”

“Looks like we’re getting close to their planet,” Nora points out. “It makes them nervous.”

I give her a little smile. “Nervous enough to come out to try to fight us. Your Lucius was right about the direction.” I turn to walk over to the command seat, but Nora puts a hand on my arm.

“Don’t destroy them. They may have clues about Sophia.”

Under different circumstances I would tell her that battle rarely allows such luxuries. Yet she has a point. If these ships truly came from the Gzet homeworld, then they may know where her friend is. "I'll preserve one if I can."

The answer doesn't seem to satisfy her, but she nods anyway.

Around us the command chamber has become a hive of motion. Officers hurry between their stations while the Beast's living displays pulse with growing urgency. Through her eyes I watch the two ships approach. Hard metal angles protrude in every direction, and their engines leave pale streaks against the darkness. The Beast dislikes them immediately.

I settle into the command cradle and allow the control tendons to wrap around my arms and torso. The familiar pressure steadies my thoughts. A good Harrower doesn't fight with weapons. He fights with his Beast.

The connection forms. Suddenly I can feel her irritation. The Gzet vessels are attacking her. She wants to crush them.

"Patience," I murmur.

The first volley arrives a moment later. Thin beams of white light slash across the darkness and strike the Beast's fur. Several crew members flinch. The beams burn channels through the outer layers before dissipating harmlessly against the dense tissues underneath.

I bare my teeth. "That is their weapon?"

The navigation chief looks concerned. "They are still firing, sir."

"Let them."

The second volley produces similar results. A few hairs ignite and drift away as glowing debris. The Beast growls through the ship's structure, more annoyed than injured.

The Gzet captains apparently understand this as well. Their ships spread apart and accelerate toward opposite flanks.

"They're maneuvering," Nora says.

I glance toward her. She stands next to the command seat with her arms folded, watching the battle through the Beast's eyes. Her expression reminds me of the one she wore during our training match. She’s focused, thinking hard.