#AILF9 Capricorn Rising Part 2 of 3 – Speaking…with Tongues

Thanks to @brittanymarshall for this inspiring pic…#AILF


Part 2 of 2 Capricorn Rising



Aruiyen snorted and sat up sharply, cracking his horns against the sleep chamber. The sharp decompression of his quarters had activated the re-life cycle of his stasis closet. 


He pushed the seamless latch and the fogged front wall clicked, breaking the seal causing the sleep fluid to seek out with an angry hiss, turning to a harmless but annoyingly foggy soup of breathable gases. 


Auriyen climbed out of the chamber. 

“Report” He barked

“Decompression alert in the cargo hold, sire” came the  cautious response.

His sister’s tup, Senroth. Auriyen snorted in irritation.

It figured that something would kick of during that calf-lick’s shift.


“It wasn’t me uncle Auri” the Navigator said quickly.

“I was just talking with the M’gg-humale-”

“It’s human. Or female. Not humale-”

Wait. Why for all the realm were you at converse with the human? Has it passed your memory  – the damage caused to medi bay? Or the human male’s attempts to sabotage the ship? Or his final demise?”


“The female asked for a short break from quarters, and the security detail was en route, but she was not found when they arrived. Sire”

“Well find her!” Auriyen had bellowed, his heart thumping in fear. There were many small spaces that could trap and freeze a tiny human on his ship.


He grabbed his garments and slung his cape around his neck, preparing to step out when a slight noise above his head gave him pause.


“Oh shit” the words were very low, bit discernible. 

And E were coming from the air tunnels.


Smiling, Auriyen slowly put down his garments and crouched in the darkness, his cape forgotten as he waited for the human to appear.


The Shara-ein had surpassed itself, not only finding but installing ancient vocalisers, enabling the vermin to understand simple commands and be understood in return. 


It’s language had been rudimentary, so it was easily synthesised, then fed into the archives, as an upgrade for the highbred Oxenia Prime clans that could afford it. Or those that made petition a donated version for their young bucks.


The humans, he had to remind other crew members to address them as such, had both been taken to medi bay to be implanted.  The male had shoved the shorter human in front of him and cowered, blubbering as the equipment for the three phase procedure was set up. 

The needle thin probe for the vocaliser

And the two slim finger like probes for providing the sterilisation and perma-coating of their ingest and egress cavities. 


The smaller human had marched forward muttering “Ggggggd Brrud! kuwrrd mush?. Yh bgpyzzi!” 

The Shara-ein had established later in the months that followed that a ‘puzzi’ was a dishonourable male. 

And a ‘byg puzzi’ was a totally irredeemable one.


Since the incident the smaller human, M’gg, had initially refused to be housed with the Brrud, but had been ignored. 


But the Brrud had deteriorated in mind and after a heated shouting where parentage was called into question, a small circlet of what looked like the metal smelted to power the transfer beam had been torn from her small hand and flung at his feet. He had seen that as a slight but had not reared to bash heads in resolution. Rather he had grasped her arm and then laid hands upon her person. The shrill scream of terror convinced Auriyen to order two separate smaller holds to be set up immediately.


The male had not settled, his actions seeking to set alight his quarters, inflict cutting wounds on those who stood security and finally a deadly quiet stillness, sitting for hours starting at the wall. 


Within the sennight a frantic video Comm from Senroth, poor lad, had resolved the worsening state of the human.


“Sire! The male is no more” Senroth had wailed in horror.


“And the male tricked me, sire! He asked if I had authority for security over ride, which of course I do. So I told him yes, and he said I did not, so I defended my honour and swore on the horns of my mother, but he just laughed and pointed at the airlock in his hold and wagered I couldn’t over ride that valve, and I said it was an airlock, not a security panel, but he wagered I was at fault in my understanding, and before I knew it he had jumped on the lock without warning and I could not re-engage it and he was torn out of the, the…the air. L-lock. Sire. But it was too quick to arrest the breach. And he sort of gasped once then bounced off the side of the carrier and floated away from us too fast to traction him back…” Senroth ran out of breath and strength, slumping in his seat.


“Brother Auriyen. Tis a hand of fate that has claimed the Brrud human so” the Baron at Arms on duty as always, had placed a calming hand on Senroth’s shoulder and stared down the vid Comm pointedly.

“Better to return to O-Prime with one sane sentient vermin, human my apologies, than with the beasts of that planet, and one sane and one mad human. The Rangor would call for Baa’an feud and seek to shame you, sire.”


Auriyen had hated to admit his Baron was right. 

But he had chosen to break the news to the M’gg.

She had been shaken but not suprised. Auriyen had been drawn to spend more time with the soft spoken yet feisty alien. They helped each other learn their respective tongue.


“Brrud thought it was his bad karma” she had said to him at a visit that he had invited her to last meal in his quarters. 

“He spent his life wanting to be a bull rider. Only to find himself captured and on his way to a land where the Bulls and Rams rule? It tore him up inside. And no one could help him except himself” M’gg had sighed sadly before Auriyen smoothly diverted her attention with tales of the Oxian Prime court.


They had chatted and laughed and Auriyen had felt the unfamiliar and coveted rush of rutting fire as he inhaled her heady scent. 


The Shara-ein had explained the miraculous arrival. The blue planet human was a female, with monthly courses. Auriyen had stared blankly at the technic

“She is fertile, sire. And compatable. ” he had said. “Do you desire us to test our comparability level through active research?”

“No!” Auriyen had bellowed, cracking his forehead against the Shara-ein’s equally dense head plates smartly.


“She is to remain untouched!”


That had been six months ago. The carrier had refuelled, landing at exotic destinations, and Aruiyen had taken M’gg to see wonders and sights to amaze and delight her.  


He was careful to have the crew sealed and isolated from her during her period of courses, but it was proving difficult.


Then last night after the regular weekly dinner invite to his quarters and a rousing game of Rams Luck, which she won, she had hooted in glee and he had grabbed her, swinging her round, as proud as any ram with a baby tup. She had pressed her pouty rosebud mouth against his and for a brief moment he had tasted heaven.


In fear of the Unknown he had ordered all but the most essential crew to stasis for the remainder of the journey home.


And now she was roaming the ship, sneaking into his quarters.  He inhaled, her enhanced heady mix of honey, cream and female danced over his senses.


The ceiling vent above opened and her tiny feet, with the strange coverings Shara-win had manufactured by replicator waved frantically above his head. She was in the traditional linen shift worn by women but in the increased thickness in the air, it lifted, displaying her pert naked flanks.


For a split second M’gg hung before dropping lightly to the floor..

Meg and Auriyen

“He pounced, chuckling as she let out a high squeak, still trying to be stealthy and quiet.


His thick arms banded around her legs as his tail whipped lightly across the two round globes of her flanks. 

“It is night time, little one” he growled, noting that her shift had caught in the vent and dangled above his head.

“I was bored. And a bit afraid, and also fed up of being alone” Meg said softly

“How can I soothe your fears” Auriyans arms tightened slightly, his hands curved around her smooth thighs.


She smoothed her tiny hands along his shoulders, entranced by the feel of his warm muscled frame.


“How can I soothe your fears” Auriyans arms tightened slightly, his hands curved around her smooth thighs.


Auriyen looked up, watching as the thick air lifted her hair to spread it across her shoulders and float it about her head


“Maybe, tonight, you could help me with your…tongue” 


Meg grinned as the Grand Vizer growled softly “It would be my honour, little one” Auriyen, defender of worlds, claw of Blood and Death smiled to himself as he leaned forward slowly. And complied.


#AILF9 Capricorn Rising Part 1 of 3 – the cattle are a-lowing…

Capricorn Rising Part 1 of 2 #AILF


(A long time ago, in a land far away…)

Blork shunted backwards, his hooves clattering over the stone walkway.

“What’s this?” Auriyen, the Grand Vizer stomped a silver tipped hoof once with impatience. He glared at the clerk, ignoring the grunt’s clammy hand outstretched towards him, and the info orb that rattled with nerves in his clammy outstretched paw.


“We have f-found an inhabited p-planet, sire” Blork stammered, nervous, exited and fearful all at once.


The orb rattled wildly again. Auriyen snatched it out of the clerk’s hand before the imbecile dropped and broke it. He peered into its contents, checking it contained the information he had authorised for distribution to the clan leaders, huffed, then ground the delicate info sphere to dust between his meaty paws.


“It’s many peoples are scattered across its surface” Blork muttered nervously. 

He was a stubborn brat. Auriyen glowered and scrapped his hoof long and gratingly slow on the flagstones. This limelight was for meant for the Vizer, not the grunt. 


“Well?” The Grand Vizer swung his great head around, arms flung out in haughty anger as he turned slowly, his haughty gaze rising to survey the gently sloping hills filled with clans gathered for his Pronouncement on this discovery.


“Why have we not made contact?” He glared at Blork, scrapping his hoof again.


Blork swallowed hard, his own hoof pecking nervously several times on the flagstone. He clutched his thigh unconsciously, as if to still the nervous tic and tried to stutter out his analysis as practised that morn with the Grand Vizer.


‘Technicians of Oxenia Prime’s greatest archives would teach future grunt clerks about this day.’ Blork thought suddenly.

Blork, the Wise, would become part of the syllabus. 


The data was undisputed. And his 13 years of unwavering, considered analysis of this data would not, COULD not be faulty.


He stood up a little straighter, tapping his hoof once in certainty. Grounding himself. 


“Well, sire. Here’s the thing. They aren’t responding” Blork stepped back a few more paces as the wide head of Auriyen lowered into his trademark glower.


“We believe they are captives of the vermin that populate the planet!” That unscripted, braying shout from the elder of Blork’s clan -he was also Bork’s pompous windbag of a father, Auriyen huffed dourly to himself. 


Blork Senior’s accusation was quickly taken up by his fellows.


“Captive, so they are!”

“They must be freed! 


We must act!”


Auriyen lifted his hand for silence and an expectant hush fell over the group. When all that could be heard were was the rustle of the grass that covered the steppes on which the clans gatherings were held and the haunting song of the herd finches he spoke.

“Who shall go to parlay? Which clan has strength of horn and hoof to accomplish this task”


A shout went up, the 15 clans almost a unanimous voice in their clamouring.


“Baa’ an Clan! The clan of Auriyen!” 

Auriyen gave a cold satisfied smile. His sharply angled head lifted up, flexing this thick neck and powerful massive shoulders.


“And what of the bounty to be wrung from the captors? Who among us is fit to seize? Who among us is fit to judge?  And Who. Among. Us. Is fit to punish?”


Again the loud shout rose to shake the open hillside, the noise rolling down the lush green steppes like an avalanche 


“Auriyen! The grace of Auriyen decides all!”


Auriyen, Grand Vizor, former outcast but now champion warlord, braced apart his muscled thighs. Claw tipped fingers clenched in gripping fist he punched the air above his head


“We bring freedom to our people! And punishment to all captors!”

 The assembled clans of elders went wild, stomping and leaping about. Clan Rangor elders rushed to and fro across their steppes, kicking all who foolishly stood behind them as they charged past.


The thirty elders of Clan Baa’an rose in unison. Each slowly stomped their left hoof, their clawed right hand matching the rhythm, thumping their massive chests,  the tempo getting faster and faster, their powerful tails whipping audibly as they bayed low and loud in support.  


A few of the younger Baa’an elders in training forgot themselves, turning to grab each other’s lapels to crack their bone dense thick foreheads together brutally, yelling as comrades with arrogance in an undignified display.


Even the thoughtful docile, long haired Shara-ein clan though they remained seated, took on the frenzy, a song of an ancient war chant bursting forth, their gray faces splitting wide as each of their voices swelled the noise in warbling glorious song.


Sharia-ein In Song



The heavenly orb of light bathed the hillside in its warm heat, seeming to shine even brighter as Auriyen stomped purposefully around the stony worn flagstones of the Elders circle shouting “We leave on the morrow. And the clawed hand of Death and Blood be on all who stand against us.  Ready the battleships!”


Auriyen stomped out of the enclosure well satisfied. ‘So. That’s another twenty year reign secure and under hoof.’ He chuckled contentedly to himself.



(Earth’s orbit Present Day)

Auriyen the Fifty Third, freight carrier captain, Hand of Blood and Death and direct descendent of the first Grand Vizer dragged his hand over his face, then scrubbed the bristles of his jutting jaw. His massive head and shouldes and brooding glare confirmed his shared bloodline with his ancestor.


He pushed the large floating Orb of Record away from his command console and watched the images from the famed Pronouncement flicker as the Orb bobbed gently in the shuttle. The historical edict to bring freedom to the oppressed, re-enacted for the planetary archives and played on repeat at all annual celebrations, had fuelled his people’s drive for the technological advancements they now wielded.


He sighed. Shot a glare of dislike at the holoscreen projection of the inhabitants of the cargo hold, then sighed again.


Someone was going to die. 

Die a death of slow but intense pain.


Fifty two generations of subsequent leaders, eons used to acquire the weaponry and advanced technology needed to journey to the polluted blue planet. 


Only to arrive to find out the horrifying truth.


There were none like his people -or any clan known to populate his homeworld,  Oxenia Prime, in THIS universe.


Yes, the inhabitants of this ghastly blue planet of plague and death had not responded. But not due to captivity.


‘Damn that imbecile Blork the Wise’ he muttered to himself, rising to his feet. Auriyen vowed to have the statue of the fabled archive technician torn down and ground into dust for use in all the wasteland’s privy closets.


He stomped back down to the cargo hold, passing through the red beamed cross hatched laser security. He waited for the low bellow that confirmed his authority to enter, then stepped forward, slapping apart the cargo hold forcefield.


The smell caused bile to rise up through his first stomach until he tamped down his reactions.

They had crapped themselves. 


The tan coloured mutes looked over at him, whites of their eyes rolling wildly as they thrashed and stomped about. The females cried pitifully, stamping with the pressure of feeding time now missed.


He needed to return them.


To the rainy islands, the wide open plains, the cold blustery tundra the crew had ’emancipated’ them from.


A loud bellow from a wet nosed, black and white female, her full, pendulous peach tinted long tipped teats swaying in their strangely placed housing between her hind legs, made him grimace in crushing defeat.


Once aboard, none stood upright. Stubbornly choosing to remain on all hoofed fours. Encouragement to shift from this camouflage was rudely ignored.


All attempts to communicate and inform them of the thousand year crusade for their freedom had been met with either stony silence, a sloppy face lick or, in the case of a rather randy male, an attempt to mount him when Auriyen had once mistakenly turned his back to them.


That one. 

Auriyen glared balefully at the randy male who tossed his wide horns, huffed through his nose and promptly lifted his tufted tail to let fall a steaming slurry and clods of dark brownish green waste.


That male was being returned immediately. 

The area it had been taken from was vast, an area named, as the navigator informed the crew, as the Tixus lung-Hrnn hamlet.


“We are returned to the hamlet, Auriyen sire” the Navigator’s voice boomed in the cargo enclosure causing a repeat of the stomping.  The awful damned wordless noise from the freed aliens started up.


“Make it quick, you can return the others shortly, but I want that male off this carriership now!” Auriyen barked. 

“And get this bay enviro-sanitised immediately!”

The sniggered “Right away, sire” promised a vicious beating in the training pen for that navigator before Auriyen would allow him to crawl into his stasis pod for the long journey home.


The  swelling electrified light of the transfer beam bathed the cargo bay suddenly, capturing Auriyen and the bellowing Tixus alien in its glow before Auriyen could step out of its reach. 

“Argh!” his shout of ire boomed as suddenly, he found himself in the open, on the surface of the smelly polluted planet, his iron clad hooves and calves sunk up to the knees in the soft muddy planet surface.


“By the Golden Hoof of Baa’an Goreem!” Auriyen shouted into his comm piece. “Navigator, What have you done?!” 


He looked about sharply, noting that their arrival planet side  him, the randy ma had caught the attention of others, namely other females from the randy one’s harem, he suspected, who now moved at growing pace , jostling and clattering towards them.


“Apologies, sire!” The Navigator’s voice echoed in his ear, no longer sniggering, the trembling tone a dread realisation that his last breaths were likely to be painful and would coincide with Auriyen’s safe return to the space battleship. 


Auriyen backed away from the fast approaching foolish females, darted out from the centre of the returned group and swung round, his dark high necked cape of office swirling around his legs.


“I am retreating to this structure ahead. Mark my coord intends, you calf-lick and get me off this cesspit.” Auriyen charged towards the large strangely shaped tall and wide building that yawned wide at both ends.  A high, then even higher pitched gabble of noise could be heard coming from inside. 


The vermin.


No matter. This was most likely a small clutch of the fur less vermin that roamed unrestrained across the planet. 


Hoof and horn free, they bred in numbers and gathered together in herd enclosures surrounded with lights and stone. At night time, the time agreed best for when he had done his first reconnoitre, he has seen the vermin’s steeds. All shiny metal that shot lights from the front and back as they hurled along the preset paths all blackened and hardened by use.


He marched into the large structure, determined to shoo the hairless vermin out and get some peace whilst he waited for transfer beam return.


He smiled grimly, planning how hard to smack down the Navigator for this blunder.


The gabble stopped as two of the vermin, shrouded in thick leggings made of material the colour of their darkened sky looked over at him. The slightly taller, less rounded of the vermin let out a high pitched bellow, turned and started to run away.


“Aha, we have your position. Now, sire!” The Navigator’s disembodied voice was triumphant as the crackling transferring beam blasted through the enclosure, returning Auriyen and the the two screeching vermin aliens to the now empty cargo hold.



Brad and Meg Grayson had been arguing.



The ranch had been poorly managed for years as Brad chased one hopeless venture (and women ) after another across the state of Wyoming, his selfish plans of competitive bull riding ignoring both his  vows to marry his fiancé and the life savings Meg and her late father had sunk in the breeding ranch for their famed Texas Longhorn cattle.


Eight years in and Meg had had enough. Enough of the struggle of managing the ranch single handed after Brad took off again, and the increased costs. Even the death of her father last year had not swayed Brad to return and settle down. Instead he was still promising ‘This’ll be my big break. it’s just one more year, babe’ as he set off chasing the silver buckle from the rodeo competitions in his home state of Wyoming.


Then a few fays ago, rustlers had taken Major, the Longhorn prized bull and left no trace. With the ranch sale hanging on the quality of their stock of cattle, that loss had threatened the deal.


And had been the only thing to bring Brad back to salvage the sale.


“How could you have let Major get stolen and not inform the Rocking D?” Brad glared at Meg, his hand waving angrily out at the paddock and fields beyond the open barn.

“As buyers they need to know a day-”


“I did not ALLOW Major to get stolen, Brad! Jeez, anyone would think I rolled out the trailer and hooked it up to the rustler’s truck myself.” 


Meg thumped each clenched fists onto her waist, eyes flashing as she glared back at Brad. He could be a cruel ass sometimes.


“All I know is that a few nights ago a truck or SOMETHING came on to the land. No idea how they got past the font gate security.” Meg’s shoulders slumped in defeat.


“I saw the truck’s really bright head beams from the ranch house but, by the time I got the ATV out there, the herd including Major had disappeared.”


“Disappeared? That’s total bullsh-” Brad snarled, his voice drowned out suddenly as the afternoon quiet was shattered by a sudden loud bellow. Meg straightened. It was unmistakably Major. Followed by another, louder, deeper thundering bellow and the lowing and clamour of the rest of the herd.


Turning towards the sound, Brad and Meg strode to that end off barn. The hot afternoon sun streamed in, blinding them slightly as a huge hulking silhouette of a man appeared at the mouth of the barn. He clearly enjoyed Halloween, Meg thought as she squinted at the realistic curved horns fitted to his head.


“Now look here, mister-” Brad stuttered to a stop as the hulking male strode towards them.


Meg looked down, her heart seizing in her throat as she recognised the shape and backwards bend of his legs.


it was Major, or an idiot in a very good costume come to play out his Halloween demon bull cos-play fantasy 


The man had clearly been studying Major, but no, not quite Major. He was a massive guy, at least seven foot when dressed as he was as a brutish ram, caped in a large dark covering 


The silhouette man/ ram bared his teeth. They were large and -oh my heart- sharp and inhuman. 


This, it was soooo not man.

 ‘Oh god, aliens are real’ Meg thought terrified. 


Then, IT roared once, lowered its broad head. 

And charged. 

Charged into the barn, bellowing. 

It’s four fingered muscled arm pressed to the side of its head, as if in communication.


Four fingers! Meg turned, wincing at the high shriek that erupted from Brad. She gawped in shock watching as if in slow motion, Brad pushed her towards the charging beast. Meg screeched, watching as her fiancé left her and raced away. In the opposite direction. Babe or bail? Meg thought. ‘Welp I’ve got my answer….’ she thought distractedly.


The sun seemed to break through the barn roof, shining with a brightness that blinded Meg. Mid shout, she felt the air change, crackling with electricity then, there was nothing.




Navigator Senroth did a double take at the transfer beam readings, gulped in horror and slammed his clawed hand on the termination pad. 


Dead. Stone dead.

He was going to be flayed alive by Uncle Auriyen, the captain.


In the cargo hold, the sudden loss of power made the transfer beam shimmer and then suddenly wink out, unceremoniously dumping the three beings collected from the planet surface.


“Oof!” Auriyen slammed into the floor of the thankfully decontaminated cargo hold, his cape protecting his back from being shredded as he skidded along the hard floor surface. The Navigator was a dead grunt. Baa’an Clan and his Hoof-Son be damned. By the Ram’s scrotum, he was going to slap the twist out of that Baa’an horns.


The vermin had landed on top of him. Awful pestilence. He reached up to pluck them off him but was too slow.


One vermin made another of those indecipherable throat noises, leapt up and scuttled away furiously on its four uneven limbs.

Auriyen pushed at the smaller one still draped on his muscled chest, intrigued. It smelled of warm honey and the silkiest of cream. Needing to rise, he rolled it unceremoniously off his broad sinew filled barrel chest. It landed on its side, tucked its lower longer hoof less legs under and rolled to a stop.


He staggered to his feet, groaning as he shook his broad head, his curved horns whispering harshly through the thick air.


Beside him the smaller of the blue planet’s vermin still lay, clearly sentient but most likely quite backward, its small eyes tightly closed. The mass of long furs on its head had tangled in a dark tangled mess across its face and shoulders.


The taller of the two vermin was definitely awake. 

But huddled in the furthest corner jabbering and mumbling to itself.  It gasped in terror as the forcefield at the doorway split to reveal the full contingent of the ship’s security detail –   the Baa’an Baron At Arms, plus eight Rangor warriors, armed from hoof to horns with blades, brandishing the plasma implosion canon and an impressive selection of the snub nosed disruption grenades. 


Even the Baron was twitchy.  One false move and the eager pad-loving fingers that hovered over the detonate pads on the grenades would clamp down, blowing a hole in the cargo hold large enough to suck even the flight crew out of their pod on the 64th level. Through their assholes. Before casting them and the crew into space.


For a hot, vicious second Aruiyen bared his teeth, thoughts full of Senroth, his torn and muddied uniform, and the disappointing primitive nature of the now-returned alien creatures. 


With the funds for herd and flock building ringfenced instead to fulfil the pronouncement, fewer and fewer females and calves were born each century, resulting in the rutting season appearing as a fertile period only once a decade. 


These aliens had been Oxenia Prime’s last hope.


Sighing Aruiyen held up one large hand wearily, staying their eager pre-emptive strike. 


The head of a serene Shara-ein, the technics officer, poked out from behind the cluster of armoured Rangor. Its flat oval iris narrowed in its huge yellow eyes as they darted around the hold. It’s jaw dropped, mouth gaped wide in wonder, horror or astonishment -with their classic grim grey faces, you could never tell with that lot. 


Its nose quivered as it surveyed the hold, empty now of all horned and still quadrupedal blue planet residents. In their place the two vermin and a slightly bruised captain.


“Stand down, the fuckn lot of you” Aruiyen growled low. 


Straightening he moved towards the security team. 

“Watch the vermin” he muttered.

“The small one with the nest on its face is awake. Has been since we arrived but is playing dead.” The Rangor chuckled.

“The larger one appears to be in shock. Or trying to communicate with its nest mate.” 


“Take that active  one back with the Shara-ein;  see if there is any tech to help us tame it.  If not, check its core orbs, see if it is fit for food, although with the pollution reported, anything from that planet needs a wide berth…” Auriyen stamped out of the cargo hold eager for the sonic cleanser to strip the filth from the planet. 


He dragged himself through the decontamination tunnel, cleaning himself of the filth on his hooves before stomping towards the bridge.


There was no avoiding it, the campaign had been a total fuckn broken horn, his thoughts were dark. 


Oxenia Prime was facing extinction and for what? He glanced out of the carrier viewing portals as he reached the transport for the bridge. The blue and white swirled sphere seemed to gleam innocently back at him. 


Snarling once he turned his back on the sight. With a determined face he stepped off the transport onto the bridge. He was spoiling for a good fight, a chance to let off steam before the humiliating journey back to O-Prime. 


He spied his target. 

“Navigator Senroth!!” Auriyen bellowed.


This would be a good hour of sparring at least.

King Red #3 #AILF7: Who you calling heifer?

πŸ˜ˆπŸ˜πŸ’•King Red #3 #AILF7πŸ’•πŸ˜πŸ˜ˆ

Who you callin’ heifer?

The sudden commotion in the hallway sounded too close to his door. 

John pressed his thin lips together. 


This new intern was not handling the crush of business leaders who now flocked to the law firm, seeking commercial contracts to supply the Tauran aliens. 


He looked up as both his heavy oak office doors were flung open, banging hard on the wood panelling of the wall.


‘That’s gonna leave a mark’ he muttered wearily, and sighed at the tall white haired male, encased in a studied black leather tunic and form fitting leggings, striding down the hall towards him. The intern teetered in her heels, protesting the intrusion as she clacked loudly behind him.


The tall, broad shouldered intense male that swept into the room to tower over him, feet apart, arms crossed across his broad black studded leather tunic, was not human. The slight phasing in and out of focus around his forehead, the overall shimmering of the seemingly younger man’s pale amber eyes were obvious giveaways.


“Honourable One” John rose to his feet, plastering a saccharine smile on his face. He waved the intern away briskly, pushed his seat back from the desk and he started to rise to his feet.


“Ah, erm, good morn- afternoon. To what do I owe this unexpect-”

Mage in Human Form

Senior Mage in Human Form

“This woman.” The stranger tossed a sheet of parchment at him. It landed unceremoniously on the desk.


Though this man appeared young and mid thirties, John was not fooled. He recognised the actions of a male, centuries old, and quite used to wielding unquestioned power. He also recognised the imperious voice. 


A cold hand of fear gripped his spine.

It was the Mage. 

The Tauran Mage was on Earth. 

This was not a pleasant surprise. 


John blanched, causing one side of the Mage’s full lips to twitch upwards briefly with dark humour at the human’s disquiet.


“Where does this female reside?” The tall alien spoke again, jabbing a distainful finger down at the parchment. “I must take audience with her on a matter of utmost urgency” 


John looked at the carefully painted colour portrait on the parchment. A sharp intake of breath, and a shock made him blurt , 

“Kate? The fuck’s my ex wife got to do with you lot?” 

The sharp words came unbidden, his shock erasing the veneer of civility from his demeanour.  John slapped his hand forcefully over the head and shoulders cropped picture with a frown.


The Mage pulled one of his broad shoulders back and gave John a look of irritation down his haughty nose.

“Have a care John Blinder. You forget yourself. Our arrangement is exclusive solely because I urged the King to will it thus” 

“My apology, your Mage-ship” John stuttered quickly. “I was simply taken aback for a moment.” 


John rounded his desk and motioned jerkily to the clutch of sumptuous sofas and chairs in the massive corner office, offering the Mage a seat. The Mage sniffed once, disinterested and ignored the offer.


“The woman is from your own clan. Your own herd” he growled sharply instead. “Why did you include this image in the collection?”

“I didn’t”

“Indeed, you did”

“No. I absolutely didn’t”

“Yes. You. Very much. Did” The Mage snapped, unamused by the sudden lapse in memory of the human. 


“I swear to you,” John started, returning to his desk “I went through all the applicants personally, Lord Mage. “And I certainly wouldn’t have included Katherine…” His voice trailed off as his eye caught the empty space where the graduation photo of his daughter, Jessica, surrounded by the family, usually stood. It had been a good day, bright, sunny, the whole family turned out to the event, crowded around laughing and jostling into position for the graduation photo.


He remembered that all the applicant files had been brought for final sign off. 

Hundreds of them, piled high on his desk. 

A few had slipped off the pile and he had caught them, placing them…

“Oh” He had knocked the photo flat for more space and popped the files on top of it, just for a moment.  


“Oh, indeed” the dry voice of the Mage echoed John’s weak bleat.


“It doesn’t matter.” John recovered himself quickly, straightening his spine “Surely this won’t affect our, our arrangement?”, he asked firmly with his best bluff-the-jury voice. 

“Indeed, John Blinder, it will, if this is the woman chosen by our King” the Mage drew himself up to his full height. 


The air crackled around the alien as his body seemed to shimmer out of phase slightly with his mounting anger. His  long tail appeared suddenly, swung out and cracked hard like a whip before the Mage gripped his emotions tightly, returning his visual phased form to a humanoid state.


“So tell me” he growled angrily “Where can I find this, this…Kate?”

Big Red: Part 2 An Ill Wind (#AILF7)

πŸ˜ˆπŸ˜πŸ’•King Red#2 #AILF7πŸ’•πŸ˜πŸ˜ˆ

An Ill Wind 

“It was winds just like these” the wrinkled blue veined hand snagged Kate’s wrist with surprising firmness. Her unyielding grip belied her gas as the oldest resident in the sheltered housing community as she stared intently at the grey sky and rain beating a hard tattoo on the window. She nodded slowly, talking softly as if to herself.

“Yes my dear, winds like this brought a squall to the village of Lower Bunting and my Tristan to me. T’was a storm the like of which was not seen since the great rains of 2087”, Grandma LulaBelle Pritchett nodded ominously, “and that time, we had several unexplained disappearances. A few families shut up shop and retired, rich as Rockerfellers to the coast, never to return…” her voice trailed off.


 “I’m sure they just needed a change of scenery or moved to be closer to their children, Mrs Pritchett” Katherine, or Kate honey as the residents called her, smoothed the soft puff clouds of silver white hair and squeezed the old lady’s shoulder gently.


“Promise me you’ll take extra care on the journey home tonight. Promise me, Kate honey” the insistent tone made her pause as she gathered the bedding prepared to leave.

“Is everything alright?” Kate paused to rest her hand again on the frail shoulder.

“Yes dear, I just feel something tonight…something that I’ve not felt for a long time…” her voice faded again, a far away wistful look stealing over her face before it fell in sorrow. 

“I’m sure it is nothing to worry about” the old lady roused, plastering a bright smile on her face.


“Well you have a pleasant night, now” Kate patted her again on the shoulder, gathered the files and left the room.


The wind howled across the courtyard and the rain beat a fierce tempo on the corrugated iron sheeting that covered the walkway between the rather functional, drab sheltered housing units.


Glancing at her watch pinned to her tunic she caught her breath; she’d need to get a move on if she was going to make it back to the hospital on time.


The Home Visits for Elder’s project had been a soothing outlet and something fulfilling to do. Supported by corporate donations, the funding had been cut recently, Ramona, the site manager and her friend from kindergarten had broken the news three months ago. She would miss this part of her work.


Not that bringing up daughters, Jessica, Rachel and Jo, hadn’t been a wonderfully fulfilling task. But being a stay home mother for over fifteen years whilst John climbed the ladder at Pace & Blinder, an international corporate law firm, had been her task, the promise of their golden years spent together once he retired. 


He had encouraged her to keep up with what he called her ‘little hobbies’ after the last of their children started school and she had mentioned going back to study nursing at the university where they’d met. But he had insisted he needed a wife ‘at home so someone was there when the girls got out of school, or when he came home after a hard day’s work’.


Being the mother, office party guest, hostess and all round home maker had been a fulfilling life, but she sometimes wondered what would have happened had she stuck with her course and graduated and John had sacrificed his job in international policy and trade law.


All that was water under the bridge now anyway. John was gone, along with her dreams of a settled and secure future. In its place was an apology, and an ex who had, In his own words, traded her in ‘for someone more fitting to my station in life’.

John had secured his future at the firm by marrying the daughter of old Aaron Pace, a wily business man and sharp legal mind. 


Kate had been stunned then angry beyond belief as Ariella Pace, spoiled, just turned twenty legal intern had accompanied John to the divorce meetings and smiled with an icy glare muttering how some women never lose the baby weight. Kate had gripped her large accommodating hold-all tightly to avoid braining  the stupid airhead. 


That had been five years ago.  And two years after that benevolent extra terrestrials had decided to make contact.


Whilst nations fought over who had sovereignty, corporates commissioned the largest team of negotiators to broker deals: willing humans to repopulate planets in return for technology and health advances.  The leading law firm handling the most delicate and exclusive of negotiations? Pace & Blinder. 


Kate had found that ET looked very boringly a lot like humans, but needed to do more than just phone home. The boom in industry meant she had no problems retraining and then finding work as a medic administration liaison envoy.


Ramonae her friend since kindergarden, had been a lifesaver, offering her work shifts at Oaklings and helping her get experience as she retrained  after the marriage imploded. 


The same Ramona, who had vid commed her three months ago to inform her of the project closure, commiserate and then sat, flushing, a smirk on her face.

“Thanks for adding me to that page about sexy aliens. I’ve been checking out the pictures you all posted for the ‘He’s All Mine!’ challenge” She turned her phone screen towards Kate “So him, huh? You chose him?”

Kate flushed and smiled, tugging the covers higher as she sat up in bed, a cup of sweet tea and her tablet filled with her list of latest indie book releases urgently awaiting attention by her side. 


“A girl’s got the right to do a little dreaming!” she’d laughed

“Hey, I see you, and I feel you, gurl!” Ramona cackled with glee, nodding “I saw what y’all wrote about that hunk. You ladies are thirsty!”

Ramona pinched out the screen of her phone and swivelled her hand bringing the phone closer to her spectacled face “He’s a bit of a bad boy and very, erm, solid, isn’t he? I can see why you claimed him-“

“Yup. He’s mine. Licked him and everything!” Kate chortled “That makes him my BFF”


 Kate smiled at the memory, remembering how she had dreamt about that rose tinted hunk that night and several nights since then.


On her way to the main door, Kate poked her head into the administrators office, to drop the sheaf of files on the desk for the last time.


“I’m just off now, Ramona” she smiled. “We are going to miss you, Kate” Ramona looked up from her smartphone, smiled and came towards her to take the files and give her a hug.


“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?” Kate mock scowled looking at the screen displayed on the phone. “Sexy aliens, again?” 

“Yup.” Ramona grinned unrepentant “And as this establishments owner I’ll be writing myself up… right after I finish posting a comment about that sexy four armed guy. He’s hawt!”

“You’re crazy. Goodnight!” Kate laughed and waved, leaving the building.


A particularly nasty crash of thunder followed by a flash of blinding lightning hald her scurrying to her car, the rain making the short 15minute journey to the hospital take twice as long.


Shucking off her coat, Kate went to the nurses changing rooms, grabbed her scrubs, pinned back her chestnut hair,  changed back into her scrubs, pinned her name tag, watch and translator to her breast pocket washed up and joined the night shift team in emergency. The room was busy, a group of firefighters and construction workers milling around in reception. Jessica left the group and came towards her, relief etched on her face.


“Finally! Thought you’d never get here. We have a situation with a patient and everyone else on shift tonight is busy” she breathed a sigh of relief and slung her stethoscope around her neck.

 “What is the issue? you got?” Kate asked quickly

“We’ve had a few car accidents, minor injuries, a few cuts and bruises, what with the rain storm, and the Pace & Blinder’s corporate dinner tonight. ” she grimaced in disapproval, then continued

“But the men brought in by the fire crew,” Jessica nodded towards the team, who gave a quick wave before exiting, “Strange, those ones. They must have also been in an accident but managed to leave their vehicles and wandered onto Main Street.  We have no paperwork for them, no ID so we don’t know how to write these up


“Two of them brought in were not badly hurt, but one is still unconscious, in Bay 7, possible concussion. His colleague  said they’d just arrived at the old Kent factory. Mikes team was prepping for the demolition next week when the storm hit and when the Lightning stuck, although none were hit, a few guys got caught by falling scaffolding.  


“If Mike hadn’t thought to have a crew out there when the rain started, to shore up the gravel, the firefighters wouldn’t have found them until tomorrow morning”


“I’ll need to get to the patient in bay 7 before he is prepped for anything else to see if we can find out a bit more.” Kate said, 


“His head has taken a nasty bash and I’ll need to go talk to his colleague” Jessica looked around, spied who she was looking for and hustled over to a burly man, easily six four whose face broke out into a warm smile at her approach. 


Kate grabbed a hospital touchpad on the way, and pressed the screen for bay 7. The curtain hushed open revealing a bulky tanned form. He lay prone and unmoving under the medi-sheet, flanked by the medic and trainee on call. They looked up briefly from the images reflected on the triage bay holoscreen.


“Ah, Ms Blinder. Good. We need to get this patient an MRI. He has a few piercings that we need to removed so as not to interfere with the scans.” The medic turned back to the screen as the trainee pointed, murmuring “like here. Look. See? The initial scan showed two large circular bone things…to be honest, I’m not exactly sure what to call them. But when we did another pass, doctor, nothing. See? Yes, this is the other scan we did after I went to find Dr Jessica…” they swiped the images off the view screen onto their portable shift pads and left the room.


Kate took their place, the bright sterile room still and quiet except for the heart monitor that flashed and beeped, and the steady breathing of the patient.


She unhooked the analyser and started sweeping the wand over the patient. He should have an ID tag if he was a manual worker.


A large heavy looking embossed gold ring circled his left thumb. An Erl post across the bridge of his nose, a vertical eyebrow post and two snakebite ring piercings. The jewelry and piercings did not make him out as a man who worked construction. Maybe a roadie for a rock band?


Turning she holstered the wand. A slight movement from the bed caught her eye the deep chuckle that followed had her twisting back, her . His light brown twinkling eyes were open, his mouth a sexy smirk

“Don’t stop your inspections now, sweet…” his eyes roved her face and chest hungrily, coming to rest on her cleavage

“…Kate. There’s a Kronus Ascent I’ve brought for your climbing pleasure as you shout my name”

“Kronus Ascent?” Kate’s voice was shaky and breathless

“In this world your people call it a, ah? how do you say, ah! A Jacob Ladder” 


“You claimed me as yours, licking my image on the Book of Faces, sweet Kate” he sat up, grunting and wincing slightly from the effort. His form shimmering briefly so that Kate swore she spotted a quick glimpse of large thick horns, before the impression disappeared.

“And now I am here to claim and lick you.”

“As mine”


Kate rushed forwards hands outstretched to stop the man before he-. Too late. One meaty hand grabbed the medi-sheet and tossed it back. 

He was naked. 

Tanned and glorious, Kate thought bemused.


Kate screeched to a halt and spun round quickly



“Mr King”

“No. Just King”

“Mr Justkin”

“Well, yes” he said thoughtfully ” I’d like to think I am; although my Mage feels I may often be too merciful to those who threaten my realm”


“Mr King” Kate huffed out a breath to calm herself and tried again.

She started, talking to the naked dream, sitting as large as life behind her. And boy, was he large.

“You really need to stay lying down”

“I feel fine” the alien hunk said dismissively. He had moved to stand behind her, his heat and spicy crisp male musk surrounding her like a warm embrace.

“Mr King”

“It is just King, or you may scream big Daddy if you prefer that to my name you are pierced and riding your claimed one. For I claim you as mine”


“Speaking of kin, where is that son of mine?” the naked male turned as if to stride out of the bay, but swayed slightly reaching out to rest his meaty paw on the bed surface.


Kate’s natural caring instinct made her forget, for a moment, slipped her arm under his shoulders, feeling the soft waves of thick black hair whisper over her arm in a cascade. ‘Like a bloody shampoo advert’ she thought crossly, thinking about the tousled, frizzled up dowdy mess that adorned her scalp. He turned his face to nuzzle a deep breath against her neck, chuffing in satisfaction as she shivered in response. He twisting and sat heavily on the bed.


“I’m going to get a nurse, male nurse” Kate backed away slowly

“Why?” he snorted indignantly “I have no mind nor inclination to mount you with an audience present. Or is that the practice here?”


Kate didn’t answer. Slapping her hand desperately on the door panel, the screen swished open and she staggered out.


Her dream man was no dream. 

He was a living, breathing, pierced muscled alien. 

And she was no where ready to speak with him

“I need a drink” she muttered to herself


“Thirsty?” a nurse asked as she walked by


“You have no idea” Kate murmured.

Treaty Brides: Part 4 of 5 (#AILF5)

Father of the Bride Part 4 of 5 (sigh) #AILF5


Venakis sat in his darkened bed chamber, listening to the soft steady breaths of his mate as he thought back to the events of the previous Terran sennight.


It had proved to be a difficult but ultimately well concluded meeting with the sire-kin of the human female. 


Thankfully, Drogan had dragged the protesting human into the atrium of the Praetorium rather than the main Command room, so the news of his mating and rather uncharitable reaction to the news had been observed only by Drogan and the ship’s Warden.

When his human had collapsed in his arms, he had first called for the healer after placing her half clothed body face down in his bed chamber. He turned her head sideways onto his headrest, paced away, then came back to lift her head off the rest and place her face on the softer silken bedding. He grunted in satisfaction as this position seemed to put less strain on her slender little neck.  


He was gently brushing the mass of hair off her face with his fingers when the healer, Tertius, arrived, toga dishevelled, medi wand at the ready. His long salt and pepper braid was tossed over his shoulder, tied throughout with the golden threads that denoted his house and occupation.

“You had better be dead, calling me away from my herb preparations” the wizened Ragian stepped further the bed chamber, and looked Venakis up and down.

“On the bed. There has been blood exchange” Venakis jerked his head in the direction, then as Tertium swept past him, paced behind to hover.


Tossing back the soft coverlet Tertius stared down at the smooth back and flushed face of the human. 

“You may leave if you so wish, Commander” Tertius pursed his lips as he stepped up to the sleep pad.

“No. I remain here” Venakis stood unmoving.

“Well, stand back and out of my way.” The healer pressed a finger to the temple of the human and waited before muttering, ‘oh. Human. Beat of heart is on neck’ He slid the magi wand down and pressed the side along her neck, noting the readings that flashed on the wand with a grunt.


A pause. Then, “Is she dying?”Venakis had loomed over the medic as he pressed the wand to the human’s clammy skin, shocking himself at the sudden pang he felt at the fear his own words had created.

“Oh gods, spread cheeks and fuck me with broad sided blade” the healer had scrubbed his face and muttered irritably, pushing him back and out of his way “You’re as much a dolt as your father” he chided roughly.


“It’s the effects of the blood shared in the mating bond, Ven” he turned to face the commander who stood arms folded,  You shared blood, yes?” the healers rheumy eyes flicked in accusation to the small bite mark on Venakis’ neck, before he slapped the medi wand to the cuts, muttering about alien infections.


“She’s smaller than Ragian women so the effects are more potent.  You’ll need to let her sleep off the effects of your blood” the healer shot a sharp look at Venakis

“How much did you give her” he pursed his mouth again

“None. Well hardly anything. She bit me” Venakis rubbed the back of his neck feeling the flush of embarrassment heating his cheeks.


“Come again?”

“The human and I were sparring and she bit me”

“She did what. Wait. Sparring?”

“Bit me”

“Bit. You?”

“Yes” Venakis gritted out, suddenly irritated by the incredulity in Tertius’s voice.  

“You were sparring a human WOMAN??. Gods cub, have you taken leave of your mind. Have you seen the size of her?” Tertius drew his bent frame to its full height and glared at the Commander


“She hid her true self and was a male youth. It wasn’t my fault” Venakis heard the defensive tone creep into his voice and clapped his hand over his mouth before dry washing his face and rubbing the back of his neck. 


Walking to the comm panel next to the bed chamber door, he slapped it irritably.

“Drogan, where the Jakos is the sire-kin of the woman?”

“We await your audience in the atrium, my Lord” Drogan responded with alarming good humour almost drowned out by the human roar of “Where is that son of a bitch?”.

 So then, Venakis thought sourly, the human sire had been informed.


“Well, go on then” Tertius  waved him away testily. “I’ll check your mate for any infections. She seems quite small and underfed, but otherwise in good health, but I’ll make sure”

Venakis winced as he remembered the meeting.

The human sire had been as difficult as any Ragian  House lead. Instead of recognising the mating for the honour it was, the human had bellowed in anger, raged with the ferocity of any pure blooded Ragian and threatened to dismember Venakis’ manhood if any harm had come to his blood-kin. 


Where was Rij when he needed that silent and sullen advisor? 

An offer to take him to see his blood-kin had quieted him for a while as Drogan had ushered him into the bed chamber, standing at the door as Keith had rushed up to the bed.


“This your mate-kin?” Tertius had looked up from the readings to nod his head at Keith Brody “She is asleep, and untouched” 

Keith had moved to the bed, dropping onto his knees to stroke Nyi’s hair and murmur gently 


“Oh, Nyi, sweetheart. What have you gotten yourself in for now?”

“She must rest for the time, her body needs to adjust” Venakis stood at the door, stiff and uncompromising. He felt a rise of possessive heat seeing so many males close to his mate.

“All leave. I must conclude with Nee-yar’s sire-kin” 

“I want my daughter out of here and back with me” Keith ground out angrily, striding across the room to face off the commander.

“Shall we take this elsewhere?” Venakis found himself moving towards the sparring chamber, his steps hard and forceful. Drogan dragged the tall angry human through to the Sparring chamber 


A short exchange of words later, then finally, in a sharp burst of anger, Venakis had stated “It is a House leader’s right to challenge the mate of his blood kin to a bladeless fight” Leaning forward from his carved stone chair, he had glared at the human male.


“Bring it on, you bastard” the human had growled. 

So. It was to be settled in the time honoured fashion.Pops_tb45.jpg

Drogan uncuffed Keith’swrists and clapped him on the shoulder with an inordinate amount of good humour.


 “You are permitted to lay hands on the Lord Commander for the duration of the Honour battle” Drogan spoke cheerfully. “Should you prevail, the woman shall be striped for the dishonour and returned to your House. Should the Commander prevail, you shall release all claims for further trials and the woman shall belong to the House of RawRage. You shall also pledge your loyalty to that house and become a member of the pack”

“Like hell I will” Keith rubbed his wrists, rolled his shoulders and advanced on the Ragian commander. Tertius stood at the doorway of the sparring chamber, tucking his medi wand into his robe as he chuckled. 


“Human, Venakis is not best at bladeless combat, so you have a good chance.

“Not helping, Tertius” Venakis snapped, glancing over to the healer with a glare. He turned back just a moment too late and receiving a solid hook to his jaw.


The human, he found out, could fight. And fight well. The heated anger that fuelled him making his combat skills formidable. They traded blows for a solid half a Terran hour until he wrestled the human to the ground.


“Yeild” he growled, pantint hard and pressing his full weight in a pinning stance

“This is not a fight to the death, human” Drogan called out as he pushed himself off the gateway where he had stood guard.


“Vanakis, let the human up so that I can treat his wounds, yours too, although I have a mind to let you be. The human is at the end of his strength, though he fought well” Tertius shuffled forward drawing out his mediwand to begin the healing.

Keith pushed up and staggered to his feet, his face a mix of anger and sorrow

“My daughter. My Nyiame. She is so young” he staggered out of the ring and slumped to the floor, shoulders bowed with grief.


“Come” Tertius placed a gentle hand on his shoulders. “Return with me to my quarters. You have much to learn as the bond-Sire of the Commander. And you must be strong for your daughter”


Venakis had strode from the room barking “See that my mate has need of nothing. I shall be in the Command quarters tonight”

That had been a week ago. Keith Brody, house of RawRage had been moved to quarters adjoining the Commander suite and had spent time with his daughter. An uneasy truce had sprung up between them and Venakis had a begrudging respect for the human who had fought so fiercely for the honour of his blood-kin.


Venakis stroked his jaw thoughtfully. Tertius had come to visit him in his Command quarters earlier

“The men do not smell the scent of conquest on you. You leave your mate open to attentions from other Ragians. Your new pack kin are also at risk of being slaughtered, as is the way. For the sake of your command, and the life of your mate, you must act. It is time, Ven.”


Venakis had sighed, nodding slowly.


“Tonight. I shall complete the mating tonight”

Treaty Brides: Part 3 of 5 (#AILF5)

 πŸ˜πŸ˜ˆπŸ‘½Venakis KissπŸ‘½πŸ˜ˆπŸ˜ #AILF5 

Part 3 of 5

Nyi woke with a start, her yell of shock and fury drowned by the pail of stagnant water a human guard dumped over head to bring her round.


He cackled and cuffed her cruelly on the back of her head. He dropped the metal pail by the door of the metal holding cell as he stomped out, clanging the barred door shut.  Groaning she felt the last tremors of the baton shocks shudder through her body.  She looked around the metal walled, slightly sulfur smelling enclosure, now quite cramped with over one hundred humans forced into the cargo area.  


She stood, dragging her hood down over her head as she noticed all the occupants were male.  She hunched over, wincing in pain courtesy of the number of baton strikes she had taken but still tried to assume the more masculine stance her father had drilled into all his daughters as a protective disguise when they first moved to the area. Their home a sparsely populated, backwoods farming community had provided vegetables, earth and alien meat products for the surrounding cities and the invading forces that maintained the cordon around the earth. Until the land had been seized by the human security forces and they had been put out without any reasons.


Homeless and penniless, they had been prime targets for the Treaty raiding parties that seemed to appear soon after any land seizure. The population had been swept up and brought to the main city for the Enforcement Day.

Ignoring the ache Nyi rolled her shoulder, looking around, satisfied that all she would have was a few days of bruising but was otherwise unscathed. She  skirted the main bulk of the occupants trying to find her father when a sharp clang of a baton against the cell door brought her to a nervous stop.

“Where’s the boy?” the same guard who had woken her had returned. No one answered.

“I’m gonna ask once more, then each one of y’all be getting this tazer here”


The crowd of men shuffled further away from the doorway, pressing Nyi further out of sight.

“Alrighty then!” the guard motioned to a squad of humans each brandishing a baton and clicked open the metal gridded door “Looks like we about to have ourselves a little fun, boys!”

“Wait! Im here” Nyi pushed through the crowd of retreating men as the guards started to enter the large cell. The closest guard grabbed her and dragged her out. The rest of the guards followed. The clang of the closing cell door sounded with a finality that filled Nyi with dread.


“Well, well, well, you sure are a scrawny son ‘bitch!” the guard  cuffed her head again. “You just spoiled our little fun, you little dipshit” he snarled as the guards closed in around her.  

“So how bout we just have a little fun with you, eh boy?” His words were thick with meaning as his spit dribbled from between his brown stained broken front teeth. His bony hand grabbed her shoulder as he pushed Nyi. She felt the hard blow of the baton to the back of her legs, and fell to her knees, her cry of agony echoing in the dimly lit hallway. Gasping in pain she looked up at the guard standing legs apart with a leering grin on his face as he looked around at his buddies.

Nyi struck, jabbing the brute hard in the groin and as he bent over, throat punched the man before grabbing his baton out of his spasming hand as she rose and backed away.


“Back off!” She snarled, jabbing her booted foot into the neck of the felled guard “Back up I say, or I swear to all the Ragian gods I will shock him in the balls ’til he fries!”


“Ok, boy, easy now” one of the guards tried to soothe whilst the other two tried to outflank her.

“Back! Back where I can see you” Nyi jabbed the baton into the groin of the groaning fallen guard, who choked out “Just do what he says! Do it!” 


Nyi backed away slowly down the hall and turned the corner. Lunging into a run, she hit a solid chest wall of muscle, an emerald leather clad chest with circles of glowing yellow muscles showing through the stylised splits in the leather casing.

‘Little green men’ she thought absently ‘They have little green men as well? Only not so little’ 


“Ah. How is it you are out, boy?” Captain Drogan grabbed at the youth who had slammed into him as he stepped off the conveyor pad. He saw the raised baton and batted it effortlessly out of the raised hand, grasping the nape of the hoodie before turning to return to the pad.


“No matter. It has saved time” He stepped into the glass sided tube and shove the surprisingly light human firmly in front of him onto the conveyor pad. 

Nyi staggered across the large metal disc that made up the floor of the conveyor and backed as far away from the alien. He tapped a large green disc on his elbow and the pad hummed to life, lifting off the ground to speed off.


The large emerald leather covered warbeast sat up, its jaws gnashing as it lumbered across the conveyor pad towards her. Nyi muffled a scream as it stopped in front of her, sniffing the air and yawning, as a massive rumble starting in its chest.

“I would sit very still” Drogan stood, smirking, his iris-less eyes glinting at her as he warned the cowering human “Riot here is very partial to the innards of  young human males”


Nyi froze, staring wildly at the lion sized animal that stared back with its fathomless obsidian eyes. The rumble that emanated from its chest became louder and it flopped to the ground in front of her, its spiked meaty tail thumping once.

“It seems your tendency to fight has intrigued our Commander” Drogan spoke above the whine of the conveyor pad. “He wishes to see you before you are punished”

“Punished?”Nyi jerked to her knees then cowered back as the warbeast in front of her lifted its head, its slim tongue lolling out the side of its mouth


“Humans are not permitted to strike Enforcers” Drogan pressed the elbow disc and the conveyor slid to a halt in front of a small rise of stone steps and an archway flanked by tall stone pillars.

“We are at the Praetorium. You will follow”  Drogan looked back once at the youth, noting how small boned the human seemed. 


Riot, a rather testy warbeast at the best of times lay in front of the youth, his nose glistening with scenting fluids, meaty leathered tail thumping as his purr grew louder. The warbeast was clearly reacting to the smell of youth. Maybe the human was still an adolescent and not yet at the age of maturity. It seemed small enough, barely reaching mid chest as it had slapped into him.


Shaking his head, Drogan returned to the conveyor and nudged the warbeast out of the way with an ease that showed their bond. He slapped the warbeast on the flank, not harshly, but as a warning. 


As he grabbed the kicking, shouting human to drag it out of the conveyor, the warbeast gathered its limbs as if to spring forward.  ‘What? The gods haven’t pissed on me enough for one day, now my warbeast falls to insanity?’ Drogan muttered as he gave the warbeast another smack, this time on its shoulder, settling it down. 

“Remain” Drogan spoke in low Ragian.  The warbeast promptly turned from its rumbling purr to a low growl of complaint. But, he remained in the conveyor.


Drogan strode up the steps, taking petty satisfaction that the youth he held by one arm was trotting; it struggled to keep up. This was one of the perpetrators that had ruined what had been a well planned Enforcement. The sooner the Commander was done with this youth, the sooner the tail end events of the day could be forgotten.


Saluting the guards that stood outside the Commander’s quarters he pressed the comm panel.

“The Commander is in the sparring chamber” one of the guards noted grimly as he stepped aside to allow entry.  


Drogan, dragged the youth as he marched through the marble covered atrium and turned sharp right, through another set of metallic doors into a holoprojection of the timber framed sparring courtyards that populated homeworld. The version was of premium quality, the warm heat of the two Suns, the crunch of training ground sand, the slow ozone laden breeze from the distant seas, even the sulfur-scent of spilled blood, all recreated with precision. 


“Approach” the Commander’s voice came through as the metallic doors slid open.


A large realistic fire pit lit up the corner of the room and the tattered edges of a tapestry standard fluttering against one wall seemed to blow apart, revealing the grey sky and mauve alien landscape of rolling hills and valleys.


“Ave, Commander Lord Venakis. I bring the youth” Drogan shook the squirming, yelling human by the arm once and snarled quietly “You have already caused me embarrassments today, damned youth. Do not try me further. Or I swear by the gods I’ll gut you and feed your innards to Riot myself. Now stand still, eyes down”


Nyi shuffled forward, defiantly trying to wrench her arm from the Ragian’s grasp. Unsuccessfully.


“Careful Drogan. This one is not afeared to battle a thrice blooded Ragian champion” a deep voice of smoke, gravel and sinful dark chocolate washed over Nyi, causing her to peek up through the tumble of hair that slapped across her forehead. 





The commander stood with his back to them at the far end of the hexagonal shaped a carved wooden enclosure, that took up the majority of the floor space. 

A huge body -at least seven foot but clearly alien –  similarly clad in the torn emerald leather bodysuit, appeared to shimmer before being replaced by the shape of a humanoid bare-chested male clad in a low slung pair of black leather leggings. A full, thick pony tail of the longest obsidian hair hung down his heavily muscled back. The large star shaped wound that sat between his shoulder blades rippled and pulsed gently as the curves of what seemed to be wicked looking curved blades dissapeared underneath it before it down to look like a flat raw jagged-edged scar.


 “So, you are a little warrior, eh? Venakis canted his head from side to side.

“You touch me or my father and I’ll take on any one of you, you alien bullies!” Nyi spat angrily.


Nyi recognised him as the being who had stood at the door of the carrier, commanding the Ragian soldier to stay the blade in his killing hand.


“My Lord, I have brought the youth as requested” Drogan repeated again, trying to drown out the human, his voice tailing off lamely.

“So I see” Venakis responded, deadpan.

“And ready to spar, apparently” Venakis glanced over his shoulder briefly, his jaw clenched in fury as his pale opaque white eyes flicked with distain over the human. 

This youth showed no respect. 

“Maybe a little sparring with a well disciplined Ragian will strike fear in the youth.” 


Without a word, Drogan unsheathed a jagged edged fighting blade and stabbed it into the floor of the sparring enclosure. He saluted, spun on his heel and left to guard the entrance of octagon.

The doors slid shut without a sound as Nyi dived forward grabbing the dagger with both hands.

It was stuck fast into the floor.


Venakis strode towards Nyi who looked up fearfully as he  prowled towards her.


His black leather leg claddings and bare feet stopped in front of her. Nyi scuttled back until she hit the edge of the enclosure. “Rather weak aren’t you boy?” Venakis stode after the human, grabbing the large hoodie in his meaty fist, hearing, with some surprise, the high squeak of protest from the youth.


He lifted the human up to eye level, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in the scent of fear, sweat and sweet, something else. This human was very slight and slim bodied, not worth the effort of a sparring to teach a lesson. 


The tattoo across his eye tingled with premonition as Venakis tensed to thrust the youth away in disgust, when the human suddenly raked its nails across his face, then balled up its small fists to rain its harmless blows on his chest.


“Let me go, you big bully!” the boy had not yet broken its vocal chords, its shout high pitched and wavering. And its smell, the delicious scent of fear was being over ridden by another scent. Tantalising, making his chest warm with a sudden heat as his body reacted instinctively dragging the youth closer. The human leaned forward with the sudden change in direction and bit his neck viciously, its small blunt teeth breaking the skin.


“Enough of this!” he yanked the youth off his neck, noting his dark green blood coating the human’s full lips, a single drop running down the side of the youth’s mouth. 


Venakis watched, stunned, as if in slow motion the drop rolled back up to the youth’s lips, and the blood, all his dark emerald blood slipped into the mouth of the human. Then, a chocking gasp as the human swallowed.


It could not be.


Raising his right arm Venakis swiftly dragged the dagger down the front of the human’s clothing , yanking the coverings away to reveal the slight nick he had made along the slim neck and the drop of strange red Terran blood that dripped onto his hand. And was immediately absorbed.


His eyes widened slightly as he took in the soft, silken skin and a chest bound tight with wrappings. With the loss of the shapeless black hood and covering, a mass of dark hair tumbled over his hands.


“Ah” His single breath of surprise as he stepped back from  the youth was deep and throaty. His blade clattered from his hand.

Grasping the remaining cloth, he ripped it from the youth’s slight frame. 


It was a woman, a very small but wonderfully curved Terran woman. 


He was alone with her. 

And had shared blood. 

A situation prescribed only for during a mating ceremony.

He was mated. In error admittedly, but he was mated. 

To a beautiful, wild little Terran.  


His shaft throbbed suddenly with pulsing heat and he reached out to wrap his fist around the little females hair at her nape to drag her slight body hard against his chest, her legs dangling.

“You had me at a disadvantage, little human.” He inhaled, ignoring her futile attempts to bat him away, burying his nose in the delicate curve where her slim neck met her shoulder


“A pleasant surprise indeed as it appears you have mated me” He drew back to stare into her eyes which as he watched, flooded with the emerald of his blood before taking on a glaze of pearl white.


“What?” Her cry of surprise and horror was weak as she slumped forward. 

Flipping her over his shoulder he strode to the comm panel on the wall and slapped his hand on the plate. 

“Drogan, get your ass to the Treaty holds and bring the sire-kin of this human to me immediately!” He hissed. 

“It appears we have a mating to report”

Treaty Brides Part 2 of 5 (#AILF5)

Treaty Brides – Part 2 of 5:  Ragian Enforcement Day #AILF5 


It was today, the Day of Enforcement.

Tegalians and Ragians had arrived in orbit two decades ago following the breakdown of final negotiations and just before the outbreak of another devastating global round of warfare. The Ragians had remained to enforce the Peace, Treaty Exchanges and conduct the Tribute, which although forbidden to be called anything else  – under pain of death, was still known by broken hearted parents as the ‘Annual Harvest’.


The dispatched alien carriers always came at dusk, The eerie deep throb of sound carried for miles and drowned out all other sound by the time they broke into the planet’s atmosphere and took up position. A menacing presence casting its dense shadow cast over the long abandoned sports stadia used around the world for the Treaty tribute.


The tiers and stands of these mega structures were in use once again for the half day the Harvest took., filled with trembling humans.  Each person hoped to be nothing more than a spectator, as every head lifted, all eyes trained on the monster sized craggy spaceship.

The atmospheric propulsion engaged, with a deafening deep other worldly roar which vibrated the stadium and the chests of every humans conscripted to bring their families and attend for the Treaty Exchange.


The dusty earth of the field in the long abandoned stadium churned wildly as the spear tip shaped carrier craft sank out of the sky and thudded with a hefty thud.  The lower carriage of the carrier descended and the wide crosshatched metal walkway unfurled like a hungry predators tongue. Another whine of mechanics and the walkway morphed into a moving walkway. the central walkway of the matt brushed metal surface became  a conveyor belt with unmistakable intent as it had only one direction  -up and  deep into the dimly lit, silent interior of the ship. This was a ship come to harvest in return for the technology, food and health advancements traded in return for the two products in any abundance left on the planet. 


Water. And  the planet’s population of humans.

The megatron announcements started and were flashed onto the overhead holoview screens that hovered around the stadium.

“Section. E. Blue. D. Stand and prepare” The ominous words blared from the speakers, the alien guttural tone translated into the local language as the scene repeated across all ‘Gathering Sites’ set up across each continent.

Unarmed human soldiers quickly sprang to attention, cordoning off the selected area swinging their brutal to repel humans trying to escape the cordon. Other Gathering Site security reopened the other stadium doors to allow the tens of thousands of attendees to march quickly out of the stadium for another year of Protected Freedom.


Soft whimpers started, some turning to open sobs and others rising to angry shouts that rippled through the group of two to three thousand people huddled together in the stands as friends and towns of people not lucky enough to be seated together were separated .  The stadium lights swivelled and focussed their glare on the remaining humans with blinding intensity. 

Ragian Commando centurians decked in glinting silver, maroon, black and blue metal and leatherlike armour marched to surround the group which was quickly separated into groups of 100 people and herded onto the stadium pitch.


A deafening roar of dominance erupted from the centurians as a lone figure stepped forward from the bowels of the craft, his feet planted wide, arms folded in arrogance as he surveyed the huddling humans. He raised his hand acknowledging the greeting and then waiting for the Ragian Oath of Conquest memorised by every human once they reached maturity, which by Raglan standards was the age of fifteen. The human soldiers raised their batons in menace and the alien centurians moved forwards awaiting the speech.


“We Ragians salute our Commander!” the only alien in the stadium wearing the Raglan plumed war helmet suddenly barked the first line of the Oath. Humans started crying but all of them spoke, on pain of immediate punishment.


“The Tribute is in place” each human recited.” We are ready to serve. We hail the Ragian Commander, defender of the Peace and Treaty. All that is of Earth is before you! We seek mercy and pledge obedience”


Huddled next to her twin sisters behind the stiff protective six foot five body of her father, Nyiame clutched the hand of her best friend Mica, huffed strands of her long fringe out of her eyes and tried to steal a glance around him at the scene in front of them.  She swept the hair out of her eyes, pulling the front of her oversized black hoodie down further to cover her hair and long ponytail. The hoodie was her dads, and deftly hid the chest bindings and layers of clothes that padded her slim but curvy shape .


They were all in group seventeen out of the twenty groups created from the section unlucky to have been cordoned off for transport. Mica’s mother had been separated and seated in Section B. Along with the map to the bug out pags, truck and provisions for their escape.


“Nyi!” Mica hissed urgently “if we’re going to make a break for it, it’s now or never” Mica jerked her curly raven head towards the small opening in the wall behind them as her moss green eyes darted around in fear.

“Dad, the wall.  That tunnel you spoke about is right here.” Nyi murmured quietly as the patrolling human security and Ragian centurians started moving the groups forward

Keith Brody, marine and four tour veteran stood stock still, shoulder to shoulder with Mica’s brother and long time army buddy, Brett Trammell. Their his bulky six four frame shielding the smaller members of their families. He motioned her to be quiet and spoke low

“Brett, take point. You and Mica go find your ma, and take my girls with you”

“Done. Stay safe” Brett muttered and slipped through the edge of the crowding humans, Mica in his wake.  His training as a black ops soldier held him in good stead as he made a path through their group for the escapees, without drawing the attention of the guards.


“I’m going to need to create a distraction” Keith said quietly as a group of alien centurian guards made  their way towards them. Only one groups remained in front of them and they were being shuffled forward to the walkway.


“No Dad. No!” Nyiame grabbed at his muscled arm but he broke away, glancing back at her, the same chestnut hair falling over one eye as he smiled crookedly and said

“Go with your sisters. Make it out of here and get to Mica’s Ma and the truck. Get far away from here, pumpkin.  I love you, girls”

Keith reached out and grabbed a baton from the unsuspecting human guard before punching him squarely in the jaw

“Nooo! Dad!” Nyi screamed torn with indecision.  Behind her many of the captured were now becoming escapees as more of their group saw the opening and crammed into the escape route. The bobbing blonde heads of her twin sisters disappeared, racing away, just in front of the sudden crush of bodies that also ran into the jagged opening of the escape route.


A grunt of agony brought her eyes back to her father, who had taken a hard kick to his side. He rolled and bounced back onto his feet,  his arms swinging with practiced precision, punches landing direct hits on the increasing numbers of human guards that ran towards them to cut off the escape route and restore order to the other groups that by now had broken off to seek their own escape.


A muscled Ragian, wearing the maroon cape, black leather skirts and brown cuffs, shoulder shields and boots marched past Nyi at speed, shoving her aside with his seven foot bulky frame.  He grabbed the human guards, to toss them aside and withdrew a black bladed serrated knife.

He grabbed her father by the throat, lifted him off the ground and raised the knife, ready to plunge the blade into his heart. 


Without thinking Nyi ran forward, leaping onto the alien’s broad cloak covered, muscled back, her slender arms wrapped like a vice around his neck as she screamed.

“Leave my father alone, you fucking brute!” The alien grunted in surprise as he twisted and bucked, trying to break her hold and toss her off his back. He jabbed behind him blindly with the knife, trying to lodge the knife in her side when a deep voice rang out

“Hold, Captain Garg! Harm is NOT authorised. Release the human male!” The bellow echoed from the warrior stationed at the mouth of the ship and rang out above the noise on the field.


Nyi jumped off the aliens back and ran to the slumped form of her father, her hoodie falling even lower over her brow . 

Grabbing on to his waist buried her head in his chest, hearing the dull thud of his heartbeat. still strong. Unconscious, but still alive. 


Nyi choked back a sob as she saw rough hands grab his arms and shoulders to haul him away.  Scrabbling to keep hold of her father, she ignored the baton strikes that rained down on to her back but then, the sharp excruciating slice of pain as an electrified baton hit her shoulder pulsing everything into pain and darkness.


Commander Venakis Rawrage, shook his head irritated, then turned to stalk back to the deck conveyor – already preset to travel back to carrier’s command deck. He paused, head low, jaw flexing as he ground his teeth in anger.  The callous violence of some of the Ragian troops that had recently under his command was never warranted. The fact that the human security detail now felt they had licence to beat on the Treaty humans disgusted him further.


He motioned to the captain who hurried to oversee the loading of the last few huddling Treaty down into the cargo storage bays.

“Ave, my Lord?” The captain snapped his rigid form to attention as he joined the Commander, his glowing fist thumping once to his chest in attention.


Captain Drogan’s angular face flaming in embarrassment at how quickly today’s proceedings had descended into the few moments of disruption. The first Enforcement run  ceremonially overseen by a Ragian Dominus and he, Drogan Tertimus, last of his father’s blood-kin, and the first in his spawn tribe to make the cut for deep space Enforcement had been selected to coordinate the run. 


‘Planned for months in advance. No advance warning from the Advisor. So. Shot to a fucked up, fucking load of fucking fuckery in seconds.’ he thought to himself with annoyance. He knew if it had been any other Dominus than the fair minded Venakis, his innards would have been feeding the battalion’s war beasts before nightfall.


“Place the fallen human male back with his Treaty group and send squadrons out to recover those Treaty humans that sought to evade their covenant today .”


“It is done, my Lord Dominus. Advisor Rij and I will oversee the recovery personally” Captain Drogan’s head dipped once in promise.


Venakis started walking away then paused again, shaking his head in wry humour at the fierceness displayed by the tiny youth who in defence of the human male had attacked the largest and meanest captain of his battalion no less.


“And, Drogan,” he growled, halting the retreat of the captain. “The other male. The one who attached himself like a Parvolian limpet to Garg Grimhold. Ha! That was indeed a sight. That one, bring that young boy to me. I would speak with him before he is punished for raising fist against his betters”


Venakis strode away into the dim interior. His body relaxed into his bulky humanoid form, and, as he moved further away from the high nitrogen rich air and ultraviolet light of the planet, he eased into his glowing, natural form. He sighed in comfort as he slipped back into his ‘natural skin’


“Menace. Fury. To me” 

Venakis growled the command in common Ragian, pitched low, tapping his thigh to emphasise the order. The two war beasts snapped their jaws, snarling as they lurked in the darkened hangar. Recognising the pitch of the command, they lunged to their feet and padded towards him, their claws clicking on the metal flooring. 


The huge warbeasts fell into place, flanking him, one on each side, their growls and scraping claws echoing Venakis own heavy tread as they stepped onto the mobile conveyor which turned and flew silently back to the command deck.