The Human Pet: A Sci-Fi Romance

Part 3

Tarak

Since the first scourges crawled out of the swamps, we have survived as predators: hunting in packs and slaughtering our prey by suffocating them or puncturing an artery and waiting until the animal bleeds out.

Aboard the Hydra, though, it is a strict rule; we do not hunt. That's why we go on missions and use medication to manage any leftover aggression. Medication is not perfect, though; it cannot suppress our impulses and instincts.

If a crew does not adequately dominate the weaker creatures we encounter during a mission, sometimes the instincts of the crew can later run amuck. Fights can break out with scourge attacking scourge.

Hydra has drilled the risks for these potential dangers into me. As their commander, I am responsible for the well-being of my crew, so I constantly watch them for signs. Right now, though, I am focusing on my new pet. She is so delightful and her soft skin against mine lulls me into a calm state.

It's when Draco interlocks with our mother ship, Hydra, that the problems start. My little pet awakens from her nap. She panics at the sight of the scourges, sending her heart pitter-pattering.

My scourge crew cannot hide their excitement. They gaze at her. Tails thrash. A few of them even lick their fangs.

No! I am the commander, and she is mine. I bark orders at my crew, "Face forward."

Her heartbeat thrums like a loud drum.

Although most of my crew averts their eyes, some of my crew boldly stare, focusing on the pulse point of her neck's artery.

She is mine! I tighten my hold on her waist, glaring at my subordinates until their eyes flitter away.

The ship protocol specifies that we exit the ship according to rank. This means, as the mission's commander, I should exit Draco first. Parade my pet before them when they still have rampaging urges to dominate? Now that I recognize the danger, I will not.

I must get my crew under control.

"I will leave last. Now stand and exit," I tell my crew, motioning toward the opening hatch.

Anything that contradicts my crew's training confuses them, so of course, no one moves. Being their commander is like being a parent. I must guide them now.

I stand, buckling my pet into the seat. It is usually a best practice to tell a pet what to do, but as a new pet, she does not yet know any commands. I am certain her instincts will take over; potential prey knows not to run when predators lurk nearby. So, with a final ruffling of her hair, I move toward the hatch.

I bark at them. "Line up, and exit. I will salute each of you as you leave the ship."

My crew begins evacuating the bowels of Draco. One by one, they stride past me, leaving the ship and going to the ramp. I strike my chest, saluting them. My attention drifts to my pet. My pet's breaths stutter as she curls into the seat. The scourge procession is scaring her.

My hands twitch. I want to go to her. Not want, need. Only when the last of my crew is off the ship can I tend to her.

The crew is taking too long to leave the cabin and climb onto the ramp. Time to work on that.

"Hurry," I bellow.

The slow procession of scourges ambles past me.

I'm on edge. My pet's racing heartbeat is so loud. As much as I want to go to her, I need to supervise my departing crew.