Page 74 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander
Now it’s Job’s turn to appear surprised, his many arm limbs flailing. “You lack the sack?” he shakes his narrow head. I would laugh if this wasn’t so serious. “You are female? Yes?”
I frown in annoyance at his silly question. “Yes, of course I’m a voiding female!” I exclaim, yet Job doesn’t look convinced, which further stokes my annoyance. “Sure, aren’t you always suggesting I show my ‘fleshy bits’...” My words give way to a sudden realization,engorged egg sack equals breasts?Not the worst idea ever...
What would Xandor do If I showed him my body?
Such a simple answer, yet I doubt it’d work. As my fingers trace my scorched brand on my chest, anxiety churns in my stomach.No, I’m ugly and bear the mark of another upon me.White-hot hatred replaces my anxiety, melting it in a boiling sea of loathing. My stupid trust in the Tuskarian has maybe ruined my body and ruined my chances with Xandor.
“Yes, fleshy bits!” Job exclaims, coming to the same conclusion. “You display those. Yes?” He suggests with an eager tone, pointing a rude finger at my breasts.
“Alright, no need to point.” I wave his elongated hand away. Yet curiosity prompts me to ask, “What if I show my...” I pause for a steadying breath. “Fleshy bits, and Xandor still isn’t interested?”
“Hmm,” Job mutters, his beady eyes peering to the ceiling. “Then male defective. Yes?” he finishes with a nod. I frown, thinking it sounds so simple for the Glaseroids, but remain skeptical if it applies to us ‘mammaloids.’
Yet our conversation bolsters my mood, giving me one card to play.A damaged one, but it’s all I’ve got.“Thanks Job, I’m going to try that,” I beam at him with a slight nod.
Job scoffs, “I help you, so you help me. Yes?” he gestures to the crate of arcweave plates. “You help finish repairing cargo hold. Yes?”
I suppress a groan, remembering the work is still outstanding. “Fine. Just let me finish something real quick, okay?” I request.
Job just huffs a breath and skitters out the room, carrying some plates of arcweave he’s retrieved. “Job must do everything. Yes?” he mutters, his parting words.
He’s such a moaner.
But my mind is already abuzz with new schemes.How do I get Xandor alone?He refused a private conversation last time, despite enduring my terrifying fear of his Klendathian friends. I’d even made a fool of myself in front of them. The memoryalone ignites my face with embarrassment. Yet, he questions my convictions, despite suffering his feigned boredom and terse responses too. “Void, he’s ridiculous!” I exclaim to no one.Maybe Job’s right, maybe he is defective.
My heart drops as a terrible realization dawns on me in a sudden stomach churning rumble.Xandor has already seen my fleshy bits!When Urgnaw the Tuskarian attacked me, I was topless and yet Xandor never glanced at my chest once.It must be because I’m ugly, like I suspected.I sigh, disappointed, thinking Job’s and my idea is even less likely to work now.
Letting out a resigned sigh, I move to a workbench cluttered with old parts and random cuts of arcweave. The workshop is the epitome of organized chaos. Once, I tried to tidy the place and Job complained for a week straight that he couldn’t find anything.Who knows how the Glaseroid processes this madness?
For my part, I’m left to rummage like a scurrying animal amidst the chaos. I retrieve my half-completed project, happy to find Job hasn’t mistaken it for rubbish, and incinerated it. Studying the fake pistol frame, I both marvel at my clever idea and despair at my lack of metalworking skills.
I overlay the pistol frame over my Nebian gun, hoping it’ll act like a disguise. Then I can carry it with me, avoiding the prying eyes and vengeful Nebians. It rests over the sleek black and red Nebian pistol, mimicking the chamber and barrel of a more standard ballistic gun, similar to my own. I bite my lip and grab my tools, needing to smooth out more edges and deepen the groves to make it more convincing.
As I work, all troubled thoughts of Xandor, this ship, and my future fade away like space dust. There’s only this task before me, a welcome reprieve for my battered soul. It’s not long before I’ve smoothed the metal, sliding the casing over the Nebian gun, comparing it to my original.So close now, it’s almost identical!A smile crosses my lips, thinking how exciting it’ll be to carry such a deadly weapon and no one being the wiser.
I move across the room to retrieve a clean cloth and catch my reflection in a large polished sheet of arcweave, seeing myself with stunning clarity. Giggling, I notice my protruding belly still full of rich meat. “I look like a pregnant Tuskarian!” I declare, pushing out my stomach for comical emphasis. A bold idea pops into my head, compelling me to peek over my shoulders to ensure I’m alone.
Let’s see what I’m working with here.
Lifting off my shirt that clings with prudish stubbornness, I stand exposed before my reflection. I frown, looking at my ‘fleshy bits’ that appear silly and pointless. Turning, I examine my side angles, lamenting at my visible ribs. My hopes sink with each new blemish, each new ugly observation.Xandor is so big and muscular. There’s no way he’ll be attracted to me—a skinny bag of bones.
“What’s the point?” I complain with a heavy sigh. Already feeling defeated before I’ve examined the worst part—the horrible snarling horned beast that sits between my breasts. My teeth clench in anger, tracing my fingers over the coarse, raised skin, mocking me. It feels like my body itself is conspiring against me, twisting into a scornful monster, a manifestation of all my insecurities.
Why can’t I get rid of this voiding thing?
I rake my nails over the skin, driven by hatred and despair. But pain forces me to stop, a small trickle of blood weeping from the beast’s eyes, echoing my own agony.How can Xandor, or anyone for that matter, care for me when I have the mark of another male on me?A constant reminder of my shame glaring back at them. I don’t know Xandor as well as I’d like, but I worry it might disgust him.
Maybe I am disgusting?
Something golden glints in the reflection, filling me with dread. I spin round, reaching for my knife, dropping into a low stance. Hyanxa lurks close by—too close. She must’ve been sneaking up on me. I was right to be afraid.What does she want? She always finds me when I’m most vulnerable.
But this time I’ll fight her!
Chapter 28
Tyrxie
Mating