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It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The frontline spaceports that he was used to were dusty little holes in the wall, barely more than a few well-worn quarters and a landing pad.
In comparison, the outpost was a riot of color and noise. Bright flags flapped in the wind, bearing Borraq writing. Borraq of all shapes and sizes walked the streets, their gruff voices laughing and yelling.
Elian had read about aliens as a child, of course. What kid didn't dream about space and the possibility of meeting strange creatures from other worlds? But the reality of it was something else entirely. Peeking out from under his cloak, Elian caught a glimpse of a gang of Borraq drinking together at a bar, their horns glinting in the neon light. One of them had a pet — a creature with a long, sinuous body and a dozen writhing tentacles, which it used to steal sips from its owner's drink.
It was amazing. It was terrifying.
How was he supposed to escape somewhere like this, with Borraq everywhere he looked?
"You're drawing too much attention," Rael said, breaking through Elian's dazed observations. "Keep your head down."
Despite the thick cloak that still covered him, Rael's hand between his shoulders sent a shiver of memory through Elian. The salve that Rael had rubbed into his body before — the warmth of his strong, confident touch — it was impossible to forget, no matter how much Elian tried. It made his current situation all the more humiliating, to be escorted through the alien outpost at Rael's side, like a child holding onto the hand of his captor.
But what other choice did he have?
If he ran, he'd be caught in moments. If he tried to appeal to one of the other Borraq that walked the streets, who knew what would happen? Despite his situation, Rael was the devil that Elian knew. He was the safest option that Elian had.
And that was the most terrifying thing of all.
As they made their way through the bustling outpost, passers-by greeted Rael with familiarity and good cheer. Elian couldn't help but notice the respect and even reverence in their tones when addressing the imposing Borraq.
A scruffy merchant clapped Rael heartily on the shoulder. "Good to see you again, my friend! Feels like an age since you graced us with your presence." His eyes flickered to Elian with undisguised curiosity.
Rael grunted a terse reply, but the merchant seemed unfazed by his brusque manner. "Your father would be proud to see how you've carried on the clan," he said with a wink.
As they continued on, Elian's mind raced. The little snippets about Rael's past only deepened the mystery surrounding the enigmatic alien. A respected family? A father whose approval seemed to still loom large? Elian found himself craving more insight into the man who held his fate in his hands.
When they were alone again, Rael's shoulders seemed to sag almost imperceptibly, as if freed from a weight. Elian seized the opportunity. "That merchant seemed to know you well."
Rael was silent for a long moment, and Elian wondered if he'd overstepped. But then the Borraq spoke, his words clipped but laced with a rare vulnerability. "My father died during the first wars with your kind."
Elian's breath caught in his throat. Rael continued, "His death shattered our clan. We were… vulnerable. Preyed upon by those who sensed our weakness." His jaw clenched. "I vowed to never let that happen again. To protect my people with everything I have, no matter the cost."
As Elian processed the weight of Rael's confession, the reason for his capture snapped into stark focus. This wasn't just about a bounty or greed. It was about survival, honor, the solemn vow to shield his clan from the specters that had torn it apart before.
Elian's heart ached for him. "I'm sorry," he said. "That sounds… awful."
Rael snorted. "It was what it was. Every being has their own burden to bear."
But the old pain in his eyes was unmistakable. Despite the danger that Elian was in, despite the fact that this man was about to hand him over to a death sentence, he couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for him. Rael was a man driven by his past, just as much as anyone else. He had his own hopes and fears, just like Elian did.
And speaking of hopes and fears…
Elian swallowed. "I lost my parents in the war, too," he said. "I never knew them, though. I was an orphan. I always dreamed of having a big family of my own. I thought… I don't know, I thought it would make them proud. Settle their spirits. Sounds stupid, I know."
Rael's gaze was intense on him. Just like the spicy scent of Rael's musk that still clung to the inside of Elian's borrowed cloak, the personal space between them had evaporated. They were walking side by side, deep in conversation, sharing their hopes and fears just as much as they were sharing the thick alien material that covered Elian's body.
They were too close for there not to be something between them.
It was understanding. Sympathy. A connection between two people who found themselves at unexpected crossroads in their lives, about to make an unexpected decision.
But it was too late for them.
They'd reached their destination. The military building loomed before them, its lights and busyness promising a hundred different fates for Elian.
The double doors of the outpost's entrance slid open, and Rael ushered Elian inside.
Elian's heart sank. This was it. This was the moment that he was going to be handed over to someone who would decide his future — or rather, his lack of one.
