Page 44 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander

My ears twitch, catching the sounds of muffled laughter and moaning emanating from the adjacent rooms.Are Noroth and Logarn already in their accommodations?With nothing better to do, I step into the lift, selecting the floor that houses the intergalactic eatery, curious if my friends are still there.

As the opulent golden doors slide open, a medley of savory scents wafts into my nostrils, accompanied by the gentle hum of conversations. Striding into the white marble room, I head towards our booth. Stooping my head inside to find nothing other than the holographic projection of the moon setting we had picked earlier. My gaze shifts to the restrooms, contemplating if I should investigate if Logarn is still there, perhaps still sick.

Approaching a nook in the eatery, reveals six closed doors, each emblazoned with the galactic basic symbol for restroom etched into its frame. I massage the back of my neck, wondering if I’m going to have to open each one, until a door swings open, revealing a startled Felacia, who recoils as if struck.

“Oh... it’s you!” the tiny Nebian female stutters, shock in her voice. “What... what are you doing here?” she asks, smoothing her wrinkled black dress, straining to regain her composure.

I loom over her like a titan, as she is less than half my height. “Stretching my legs,” I answer, giving nothing away, as something about this female doesn’t sit right with me. “Is Logarn inside?” I inquire, gesturing towards the row of restroom doors.

Felacia casts a furtive glance behind her. “No.” She gazes up at me, silent for a moment, brushing stubby fingers running through her orange hair. “But now that you’re here...” Her voice takes on a seductive tone as she steps forward in a sultry manner, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Why don’t we get you out of this heavy armor?” she takes my hand in hers, peppering delicate kisses on my palm. However, her sudden shift in attitude prompts me to recoil from her touch.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like Nebian females?” Felacia continues approaching, undeterred. She wraps herself against my leg, her head mere inches from my crotch. “Come on back to your room with me. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise,” she murmurs in a breathy voice.

My pulse rises at her alluring touches. If not for my recent and tragic affliction, such an offer might have tempted me despite the female’s comical smallness. With a gentle yet firm touch, I pry Felacia from my leg as she clings with surprising stubbornness that must be a unique trait among her species. “Let go stubborn short-stuff. You couldn’t handle me,” I reply stepping back.

A venomous snarl contorts Felacia’s once-pleasant features, a startling contrast against her diminutive stature. “Voiding savages!” she spits with a sneer, hobbling past me, retreating into the restaurant with humorous slowness, as I raise a puzzled eyebrow, marveling at the wounded pride of the female.

Distrusting the stubborn female’s words, I test the six restroom doors, finding nothing but a very frightened Argorian who flinches backward like I were a venefex closing in on him. I exit the intergalactic eatery with haste, my half-cape fluttering with each brisk step.Where has Logarn got himself?

With no better idea in mind, I decide to return to my quarters. My long strides carrying me back to the intricate golden lift. As the doors slide shut, I catch a glimpse within the seam of Felaciafocused on her wrist console, a frown creasing her dark blue features.Wonder where she’s going?Folding my arms, I watch as the number on the lift continues to rise. Seventy, seventy-one, then halting.

I scrunch my face, surprised she is not heading to our floor, floor seventy-two. Perhaps she is searching for Logarn?But instead, she chooses the floor below? How curious!Yearning for any distraction from the fact I’m now impotent yet surrounded by beautiful females, I summon the lift back down, inputting the command to take me to Felacia’s floor.

Lewd holographic projections and suggestive moans assault me, mocking my plight, as I wait with patience, traveling through the spine of Fluxom Paradise. The doors slide open at floor seventy-one, revealing a corridor identical to the one above. I scan the long and narrow space, which unveils nothing other than closed doors.

I consider turning back, but bored curiosity compels me onward. With cautious steps, I stalk down the corridor, my keen senses alert to every sound. Pressing my ear against the nearest door. I’m greeted by a cacophony of suggestive thumping and low, guttural moans that wrinkle my face at how silly this idea is.Gods, if Noroth catches me doing this, I’ll never outlive the shame of it.Yet undeterred, I hasten to the next door that sits cracked open.

Leaning my head in to listen, careful not to disturb the door that could alert anyone to my presence. A female muffled tone, almost inaudible, emanates from within. “I tried, but they wouldn’t go,” she says with a hint of frustration. I strain to hear the response; but it remains an incomprehensible muffle.

“One savage is upstairs, lost in his disgusting lust. The other targets are still armed, their current locations unknown,” the muffled female responds to a silent retort. Her words cause asurge of molten lava to pour through my veins at the clear implications.

Reaching for my warvisor in a smooth movement honed from decades of experience, I place it upon my visage, hoping its enhanced sensors will reveal the full extent of this treachery. However, I’m met with an unusual awkwardness—the self-sealing mechanism is absent. Panic creeps, spreading its icy realization throughout my body.

Fake! Someone replaced my warvisor with a forgery!

But it never left my side? Not since my battle with the Mutalisk. That treacherous bastard Triandale the Gorglaxian must have taken it!The thought boils my blood until I seethe with burning hatred. This is an affront to the Gods, the rank sacrilege of it twists my heart with murderous rage.

“We can eliminate the brute upstairs now—” the muffled voice begins until I kick open the door with such force it flies from its hinges. I burst into the room that is a replica of my guest quarters with my arc blaster raised, to find a tiny stunned Felacia, her eyes wide and mouth agape but it’s her familiar lanky looming accomplice with frantic fluttering face tentacles is the one I level my blaster at.

“Triandale, what have you done with my warvisor?” I bellow, my voice reverberating through the chamber with a potent mix of rage and disbelief, my expression and voice contorted with lethal fury.

Triandale, clad in obsidian armor with his graviton rifle slung over his shoulder, raises his lanky hands in a languid gesture of surrender, his runny eyes showing just a hint of surprise. Not enough for my liking. “Your cursed tool of murder is lost to you, beast. It’s being sold as we speak in the maze of the residential tier,” he states with infuriating slowness punctuated with a smirk.

“Listen tentacle face you contact whoever you need to—” I roar, my voice cut off mid-sentence as at the periphery of my vision alerts me to imminent danger. With reflexes honed by decades of the harshest battles in the universe prompts me to raise my arc shield.

“Die Scythian whore!” Felacia shrieks, filled with hatred, firing from a minuscule weapon that glows with an ominous red hue—the color of laser technology. I flinch backward in reflective shock, catching the laser blast with my shimmering azure arc shield that blinks out of existence at the first impact. Despite the tiny caliber of her weapon, it’s enough to extinguish my plasma shield in a single hit.

Chaos erupts around the room, as loud security sirens blare. The familiar sensation of Rush swooshes through my veins, bringing a heightened clarity and increased physical prowess that tightens and swells my muscles.

Leaping backwards, out of the room, I return fire at the tiny Nebian who dashes behind furniture, avoiding the molten death that melts half the wall into a sizzling black-blue sludge in her absence.

Triandale unfurls his long-barreled rifle, releasing a barrage of large black projectiles that crash against the wall. Each orb embeds into the wall, deforming and spreading web-like cracks comprising its structural integrity, unable to resist the incredible strain of such immense gravitational forces. The ominous creaking sound of the walls is followed by screaming guests exiting their rooms in panic.

Gathering my senses, I pivot towards an opening door further down the corridor, revealing a group of Gorglaxians leveling weapons in my direction. With my eyes glowing golden, my Rush stoked to its pinnacle, I unleash a torrent of plasma bolts that burns with the heat of a thousand suns among them.

A Gorglaxian at the front catches some plasma bolts as his gravitational shield shimmers black, deflecting the blasts to land amongst the corridor, turning the luxurious décor into molten slop. I don’t have the time to be disappointed at how well armed they are, as they chant an ominous battle cry, “Revenge for Gorglaxia! Fear the Gorgons Wrath!”

In punctuation, they fire in formation, a testament to their military training. They unleash their onslaught. A motley array of ballistic, gravitational orbs and green pulsar rips through the corridor. My heart pounds in my chest as I escape through the nearest closed room, bursting through the door like an explosion in my desperate haste. Scrambling to my feet, two naked Argorian males stare wide-eyed from their bed as they dart away at my approach, hiding behind a wardrobe covering their meager modesty.