Half-Alien Warfighter by Greg Dragon

Author:Greg Dragon [Dragon, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thirsty Bird Productions
Published: 2019-11-03T16:00:00+00:00

20

“What a mess,” Helga whispered, as she splashed cold water on her face. She had been thinking about Bira, the cadet, and how they’d let her down.

She plopped down at the table and felt beneath it for the bag that held a hidden flask. Without looking at it, she uncorked the top and put it to her lips. The sweet liquid tickled then burned, and she closed her eyes briefly as it made its way down. Then the top was back on, just as smoothly as she had removed it, and it was back below the table to await another sleepless night.

It was a practiced movement, this dance with the flask, just in case she had to hide it in a hurry. It was a ridiculous paranoia, since her door was never open, and a master-at-arms would never storm into an ESO’s compartment.

The contents of the flask was wine, smuggled from Meluvia, a rare vintage that was especially strong. Since the mission was for Aqnaqak, an untidy and undisciplined ship, she had taken advantage of the lapse in security and brought the wine onboard with her.

One sip was all it took to feel the tingling in her extremities, and as her muscles relaxed she could no longer focus, much less obsess over anything. She slumped forward on her elbows, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There was something about the Mohawk and the way she wore her uniform. It was neat, though her sleeves were rolled up to reveal the knife strapped to her bicep.

“I have a look,” she said, drunkenly, then laughed at how ridiculous that was. “I look like an idiot,” she said, laughing even harder. Then her head found the table and she was out.

Sleep came in, not bothering to knock, and sent her spiraling downward into the depths of a new nightmare. She was lying in a bed, naked, but it was too big to be her own, and when she reached down to feel the sheets, she was surprised by the quality of the fabric.

This is odd, she thought, since she never slept in the nude. Did I blackout drinking? I can’t even remember last cycle. She patted the sheets, looking for something to trigger her short-term memory. Whose bed is this anyway? Where in the worlds am I?

Helga’s eyes came up to a familiar space with a glass desk and steps leading up to a large black door. It was the captain’s cabin, and judging by her nakedness, the two of them had been up to something highly inappropriate.

Scanning the compartment, she looked for Retzo Sho and found him standing in front of a window, naked as the day he was born. Seeing him like that, this man she practically deified, sent shockwaves down her legs to the tips of her toes. “Captain?” she said, hugging her knees as she watched him staring at nothing. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Helga climbed off the bed and crossed the crimson and gold carpet to stand next to the captain, who looked to be in a trance.

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