Her Alien Protector: A Sci-fi Romance

Part 48

Rigel

Most of my day is spent babysitting a bored little boy. When Tarak returns, Dylan chases after Tarak, begging him to carry him around the ship.

I return to my unfinished task of repairing the turret. When I take breaks by going outside and stretching my wings, somehow Tarak is always there.

"Broken bird! Go back inside the ship," hollers Tarak.

It's too much. When I find Kayla alone in the hallway, even though she has only recently returned from her expedition, I corner her.

"Can you examine my wing?"

"Can it wait, Rigel?"

I shake the wing, the one that everyone tells me is broken. "You don't know what it's like. Tarak refuses to let me stand outside the ship and breathe fresh air. Perhaps if you evaluate me, and my wing looks sufficiently healed, then discharge me?"

"Oh, yes, an overprotective Tarak! I know what that can be like," she says, gripping my arm and guiding me into the medical room. "Sit here."

Kayla gives the wall unit a command, and my skeleton appears on the wall where she squints at it.

I need her to declare me healthy because I cannot take much more of Tarak and the crew babying me, all because of a stressed bone. "What do you think?"

Kayla says nothing but her hands are on my wing, unraveling my splint.

Nervously, I twitch my wing. "How does it look? Am I—"

The door opens and Tarak barges in.

Kayla's hand settles in my wing. "I shouldn't take long, Tarak, in a moment I can—"

Oh, my stars. Is Tarak unable to live without seeing his mate for more than a few hours? That must be the case because he backs Kayla against a wall, sniffing his mate up and down.

"Tarak, I'm fine. Ava and I followed all the safety protocols. What we found was fascinating," says Kayla, telling him all about the Xindi and what she discovered about the planet's history. "All the Xindi either left the planet or died out because of harmful environmental conditions. Isn't that sad?"

Tarak growls, bombarding the wall unit with questions about planetary environmental conditions and how it can affect, in Tarak's words, "hoomans."

The ship's wall unit complies with Tarak's orders, removing the image of my skeleton, and replacing it with images of the planet. "Affirmative. Due to elevated levels of ultraviolet radiation in the atmosphere, life forms with thin epidermal layers such as humans are at increased risk of developing tumors."

"New safety protocol: Hoomans are forbidden from going outside," Tarak roars.

"Stop being so melodramatic, Tarak. Our home planet, Earth, is similar. We had a hole in our ozone layer, UV light from our star also caused tumors, primarily in the skin, eyes, and—"

Tarak's tail bangs on the ship floor. His arms wrap around Kayla's waist, and he sniffs her all over again.

"Tarak, I'm fine! I've been exposed to UV radiation for most of my life and–"

Tarak bellows. "New rule: hoomans from the Firefly are forbidden from going outside forever. Never leave the ship again."

Kayla places her hand on Tarak's belly. "Living is a risk. No one can live confined to a ship. You are being unreasonable."

Tarak's nostrils flare and he crouches down so that their noses touch. "Fine. For the next sleep cycle, I will tie you up. Keep you safe with me, in bed."

Kayla speaks at such a low volume I need to lean forward to hear what she says to Tarak. "Can I play with your atums?"

"Yes! We must start immediately," he says, throwing Kayla over his shoulder and carrying her out the door and into the hallway.

Such a strange couple. Wait, I still need information from her.

"Kayla, what about my wing?"

Kayla hangs upside down from Tarak's backside. "You have a clean bill of health."

I tap my earbud, wondering if there is something wrong with the translator. We do sometimes pay for things on Hydra, but I do not understand how a bill can be clean or dirty. "Clean bill...?"

"Your wing has healed and there are no more restrictions on your activities. I'm officially discharging you," says Kayla.

Tarak roars and the door slams shut.

I leave the medical ward and go outside where I let the information seep in. I am healthy and no longer need to abide by the limitations and rules everyone wants to place on me.

The star is setting. I open my wings wide, relishing the feeling of freedom. It's peaceful and warm. A breeze puffs up my feathers and I watch the first few moons of the night rise; twin moons ascend while a third moon peeks over the horizon.

When I re-enter, the ship is quiet and dark.

Since I still have a lot of energy, I might as well finish the work I started earlier and repair the turret.

I descend the ladder. Moonlight streams through the transparent enclosure of the turret walls.

I get to work, enjoying how the wrench feels in my hand.

"Sleep cycle commencing," announces the ship's computer through the turret speaker.

I sigh. Tarak has given us rules, wanting all crew to be in their quarters during the ship's designated sleep time. Over the last few days, nearly everyone has ordered me around. I need to ignore a command, even if it comes from a computer.

The light in the turret immediately dims. It must be programmed into the ship; far be it that we don't get enough sleep.

The turret door opens and Ava's upside-down head pops into the turret chamber.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

I turn the wrench. "Working."

Ava shakes her head, long strands of her hair covering my eyes.

"Ava, stop," I say, pushing her hair to the side so I can see. "I have work to do."

She is dexterous, her hands finding and kneading the muscles on my wings.

"Oh, my stars. Your hands must have been forged in a nebula."

"Come with me?"

I need to work. I want to tell Ava this, but when her fingers tug at my feathers, I slump forward. Her fingers rake my feathers. Chills race down my spine.

She leans close, her breath tickling my ear. "I want to examine your wings, make them pretty, and pluck some feathers. I can't do that in this tiny space. Come with me?"

I knock over my container, sending nuts and bolts scattering across the turret floor. I leave everything where they fall and climb the ladder. Only the emergency lights are on, but I can see she is wearing her pajamas and... "Are you wearing your flight harness?"

She nods and takes my hand, leading me off the ship and to a backpack.

I smile. She knew I'd say yes to this.

Once she attaches the backpack to her frontside, she stands in front of me. Our bodies press tightly against each other. When she wiggles against my groin, my member hardens.

"Ready," she says.

I take off, and she wiggles again, nearly sending me careening off the cliff. I can't fly fast enough, eager to find out more about her plans.

Author's note: There will not be a chapter posted this Wednesday because... the last 2 parts of this story will drop next weekend! See you on the other side.