Page 68 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander
The Captain laments that Hyanxa not only moved to the general crew quarters but refuses to engage in her duties. Placing more strain on the already weakened Kaanus, forcing me to step in, plotting navigations and relieving the Captain during his frequent breaks... drinking himself into a stupor.
I shake my head with rueful disdain. I would never tolerate this lack of discipline among my war brothers. Yet it’s to be expected, such inferior species would always pale compared tous Klendathians, the greatest warriors the universe has ever known. But the timing could not be worse as we draw closer to the Nebian home worlds. Confronting Nebian or Scythian patrols is an increasing likelihood.
I don my armor, fingers tracing the contours of my warvisor, resisting the urge to test its validity. The sour thought Tyrxie might attempt to steal it again seems absurd, yet the stubborn female is so unpredictable it’s not beyond imagining. Her chaotic nature irks me the most. I pride myself on my ability to see what lies beneath the fake masks others wear, what lies in their hearts. But Tyrxie remains an enigma of jumbled fears, desires, and half-cooked schemes, as inscrutable as the vast expanse of the cosmos.
I sigh, realizing I’m distracted yet again by these incessant thoughts. Perhaps I should relinquish command to Noroth? It’s clear my mind is compromised, like I’m infected by a malevolent virus that seeks to corrupt and override. Gathering the package, the one I’d taken from the cargo hold, I exit my quarters, intending to discuss this matter with Noroth.
It’s a brief journey to reach Noroth and Logarn’s quarters in the same wing of the ship. Muffled voices twitch my ears as the door slides open at my approach, revealing a disturbing and familiar scene, one I’d never have expected.
Noroth grunts with effort, his massive hands gripping the waist of the petite, naked Hyanxa. The female Jungarian snarls in pleasure, bent over the bed as Noroth pounds with merciless abandon into her.
“Not again!” I exclaim, unable to contain my shock, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, wishing this was a trick of the senses.No chance Hyanxa will return to Kaanus now!“We need to stop meeting like this,” I suggest with a frown.
“Hail, Xandor.” Noroth stops thrusting, his huge, muscular frame glistening with sweat. “Perhaps make a recording this time, to save you from repeat visits,” he jokes.
Irrelevant now that I’ll never experience the pleasures of a female ever again.The bitter thought almost spills from my lips.
“Don’t stop now!” Hyanxa demands, bucking her hips towards Noroth with a groan. Her fierce golden eyes flash to me, a smirk playing on her muzzled mouth.
Annoyance flares within me. Annoyance at this scene, annoyance at Tyrxie, annoyance at everything. “No, you stop!” I command, pointing a finger towards the exposed panting Hyanxa. “You should be navigating the ship with Kaanus. Not voiding around!” I state, my eyes glaring into hers.
Hyanxa laughs, tossing her long red hair, still bucking into Noroth, undeterred. “Void Kaanus, and void this ship,” she snarls, echoing a fraction of my own sullen sentiments. The correct response would be to drag her by the scruff of the neck back to the bridge. But I lack the will, overcome with weary resignation.
My eyes flick to Noroth, “Meet me in the mess hall,” I begin as my gaze shifts back to Hyanxa. “When you’re done with thisone,” I finish with contempt.
“Void off!” Hyanxa snaps back, a not-so-fond farewell that suits her. As I exit the room, already the sounds of muffled groans and gasps resume.
Surrounded by chaotic madness! Or maybe I’m the mad one?
I take my time heading to the mess hall, knowing Noroth is... delayed. With plodding steps, I continue, examining the package in my hands. The only pleasure left to me besides battle, almost bringing a smile to my face—almost.
Eventually I reach the mess hall, the stuffy aroma of Nutripaste and whatever vile slop passing for substance aboardthis ship assaults my senses. Thank the Gods that I possess the perfect remedy bundled in my arms—borack meat!
Scanning the room, I find Logarn’s the sole occupant. He sits chugging spoonsful of gray slop with methodical precision. Still, the crew avoids us like bloodthirsty Hemovyrns. Clearly, we Klendathians have a fearsome repetition, a troubling problem that’ll be magnified when dealing with the Nebians.A problem for another day, assuming we make it there.
“Hail, Logarn.” I smile down at the youth as I move to plant my package down on an empty table.
“Hail, Second Xandor.” Logarn raises to perform a formal Klendathian salute, forcing me to suppress a grimace.
“Sit and relax, Logarn,” I suggest, gesturing with my hand. “How did you end up here? Did Noroth chase you out?” I inquire with a knowing look.
Logarn resumes eating from his bowl of revolting paste. “No, their grunting disturbed my studies,” he rasps out with a wince, his injury from the graviton rifle still evident.
A brief laugh escapes my lips. “They mated with you in the room?” I ask, my voice laced with amused disbelief.
Logarn shows no emotion as he replies. “Yes. Noroth suggested, watching him mate is the only studying a young warrior needs.”
I erupt into laughter, enhanced by Logarns total lack of emotion in his delivery. “Gods, what a shameless bastard!” I exclaim after the hysterics have subsided.
Uncovering some choice cuts of boracks meat, I bundle them into the food dispenser, ensuring I set the machine to heat mode. Remembering with a grimace, almost burning the kitchen to a smoldering crisp last time, I tried cooking. “How goes your recovery? Your rasp only sounds like a twenty-year scoomer addiction rather than forty now,” I inquire.
“My recovery continues unabated,” Logarn replies, offering little. His stare and tone convey complete blankness.
What timing should I use on this voiding thing?I punch in some numbers into the food dispenser, unsure of what I’m doing. “Good, I see your armor has been repaired by Job. Did you test your warvisor?” I ask, glancing at Logarn.
“Yes, all functional,” Logarn says in a monotone voice. I suppress a groan at his terse responses and lack of emotion. While it’s possible to pull a conversation from the youth using a stream of pointed questions coupled with the patience of the Gods, but it’s an exhausting and one-sided affair.
“Excellent,” I reply, my mind already distracted by this voiding blinking food dispenser.What does it seek from me now? Its demands are unending!The display flashes red as I move the scale to the right. Justifying borack steaks will require much heat, assuming that’s what this setting does. With a shrug I punch in the continue command and watch in joyous victory the machine hum to life.