Page 22 of Stripped By the Alien

Eventually he appears to decide that further attempts are pointless. He says something in his own language, gathers the navigation creature into his hands, and carries it back toward the opening in the wall. As he walks, the tendrils slowly retract into the creature's body. The stars fade one by one until the room returns to its normal illumination.

I watch him the entire time. He doesn't appear angry. If anything, he seems thoughtful. But also getting impatient.

He leaves the room and the opening closes behind him.

The change gives me room to think.

My gaze drifts around the chamber. The trophies hanging from the walls seem even more ominous now than they did earlier. Beyond them, the living surfaces of the ship pulse with slow biological rhythms. Every so often a membrane opens somewhere in the distance before sealing itself again. The entire vessel feels less like a machine and more like a giant creature carrying us through space. Except for the window, which I suppose could be a thin membrane but which looks a lot like some truly transparent material, like a crystal.

The great mass of stars outside remind me of the Intrepid 21 and its fate. It must have sent out the emergency signal that’s supposed to guide rescuers to it. But no rescuers will be sent - everyone will realize that the ship is dead, and so am I.

Yeah. Nobody knows I’m here. Space Force thinks I’m dead.

The Bliss Pack is wearing off and I feel panic tugging at my mind.

My eyes drift toward the debris pile. Nothing moves. The little drone remains exactly where it has been since the crash, disguised among scorched fragments of hull plating and my broken spacesuit. Beyond the transparent wall, stars slide past in silent streams of light.

For several moments I simply watch all three.

Then I pull the clingfilm tighter around myself and finally acknowledge the conclusion I've been avoiding since waking up aboard this ship. "I have to escape."

The words barely leave my mouth before a familiar voice answers from somewhere within the debris pile. "I think that's a good idea."

Every muscle in my body locks up. The voice is calm, dry, and unmistakably familiar.

It's Lucius.

7

- Krix'vorr -

The female is by the transparent wall when I return.

For a moment I watch her without announcing myself. She stands with her back to me, staring out at the stars.

She should be resting. Instead, she has spent my absence investigating my quarters.

I pause in the doorway and watch her.

It’s the first time I see her standing up. She still wears the improvised covering fashioned from the medical sheet. The transparent garment remains absurd. It hangs unevenly around her body and appears held together by determination rather than design.

Unfortunately, because it clings to her body, it draws attention instead of discouraging it. My gaze catches on details I would prefer to ignore. The curve of a shoulder. The line of her neck. The wide hips and the beautifully rounded rear, so full and soft and heavy-looking. The unfamiliar movement of muscles beneath flesh that lacks even the most basic armor.

The female has none of the characteristics that should provoke attraction. She lacks a proper exoskeleton, antennae, claws, and mandibles. From a rational perspective, she should appear entirely unremarkable.

Yet every time I look away, my attention drifts back toward her. And the pressure behind my groin plate is becoming impossible to ignore. It's as if she were designed to distract males. Every curve draws the eye. Every movement seems softer than it should be. And it’s all so defenseless! She’s just there, with no obvious way to defend herself. Her claws are laughable and her fangs tiny.

And I know that the most female part of all is just as small and fine, impossibly delicate and reactive in the most extraordinary way, even when she’s badly injured. Her scent was unusually fresh and the little sprinkling of hair made it all exotic and special.

Oh, I’m glad it worked…

A possibility suddenly occurs to me: Has she been sent specifically to allure me? Certainly I would not put it past other Harrowers to try to trip me up and send me on a wild resource chase through a deadly minefield. I must be skeptical of whatever she tells me. All her information may be designed to trick me.

The possibility annoys me enough that I clear my throat.

She spins around immediately. Surprise flashes across her face before the familiar suspicion returns. She studies me carefully, trying to decide whether I am dangerous.

That question has an obvious answer. I have even showed her my trophies to assure her that I am both powerful and dangerous.