Page 56 of Stripped By the Alien

I remember the stubbornness that drove instructors insane. I remember the way she'd refuse to quit long after everyone else accepted reality. I remember how fiercely she wanted to escape Earth.

A woman like that doesn't die easily.

"I think she survived," I say.

Lucius rotates once. "Statistically that conclusion may be optimistic."

"It almost certainly is."

The drone pauses. "Then why do you believe it?"

I glance toward the damaged vessel. Because I need her to be alive. Because she represents the first real connection to home I've found since leaving Earth.

I don't say any of that aloud. Instead I look toward Krix'vorr. "The Gzet took someone. Dead or alive. We know that much."

For several seconds he studies me, the wreckage, and the scattered evidence around the chamber. I can almost see the calculations unfolding behind those green eyes. A second human. A second scout vessel. More clues about my civilization. Another objective.

Eventually one corner of his mouth lifts. "A hunt, then."

The words send a surprising warmth through me. Perhaps it's because he says them with complete certainty. Perhaps it's because, in all the time I've known him, Krix'vorr has never sounded uncertain about anything.

Or perhaps it's because for the first time since waking aboard the Beast, I don't feel alone anymore. Somewhere in the galaxy, Sophia may still be alive.

And now we have a trail to follow.

17

- Krix’vorr -

We leave the wreckage behind, but my thoughts remain there.

The possible existence of a second female from Nora's species should dominate my attention. The evidence is now beyond dispute. The Gzet found the scout vessel first, and if the female survived the crash, she is almost certainly in their possession.

That discovery changes everything. It strengthens Nora's claims about her civilization and makes the hunt for her home world far more promising.

But as we make our way through the dying Harrower's corridors, my attention keeps drifting elsewhere.

Nora walks beside me wrapped in her absurd green armor, asking questions of her machine and studying everything she passes. The vessel is dying around us. Biological systems are failing. Dead crewers fill chambers and passageways. None of it appears capable of holding her attention for long. She keeps examining details, asking questions, and looking ahead as though she expects another mystery around every corner.

Several times I catch her looking at me. Each time she looks away a heartbeat too late.

The memory of the command chamber returns uninvited. I remember her standing near the observation lenses during the battle. I remember the scent of her growing stronger in the warm air. I remember the way she pressed her thighs together while watching me guide the Beast through combat. I noticed, because my mind was both on her and on the battle.

Mighty Swarm, I notice everything in battle mode, with my senses heightened to a feverish degree. Her arousal was thick in the air.

By the time we cross back into the Beast, my body is far more interested in Nora than in strategy, politics, or slave-trading Gzet aliens. That fact should concern me more than it does.

The Beast carries us away from the battlefield while reports begin arriving from every level of the ship. I listen because I must. The enemy Harrower is dead. Dri'puxz has withdrawn. Salvage crews are recovering useful biological material. Damage to the Beast remains minor.

She did well, and I will reward her by putting her back on her preferred nutrition schedule earlier than decided.

Everything is proceeding exactly as it should.

I issue orders. Receive confirmations. Review findings from the wreckage. Underlings come and go while tablets accumulate around me. Normally this part of command is satisfying. A battle has been won. Information has been gained. Future opportunities are emerging.

Today my attention keeps returning to Nora. She remains nearby while reports are delivered. At first she studies the activity around her. Then she studies me. Whenever I glance up, I find her watching. The awareness between us continues growing, fed by battle excitement, shared purpose, and memories of what happened after the furnace.

Eventually the final underling completes his report and withdraws. The chamber grows still.