His bearing was as regal as his name. The Persian kings of the past would have been proud to have him bear their moniker. Long strides, long lines, long lashes - he was long. The deep sepia of his skin made everything around him seem dull and lifeless, as if he was his own Technicolor feature and the rest of the world was just a silent film. The golden glow of his hazel eyes was just one more nod to the crown that you would expect to adorn his close-cropped hair. The velvety timbre of his voice hypnotized even the most unwilling of people.

He was an undeniably masculine presence that never felt threatening, even though his body suggested he could follow through on any threat he made. He was a modest Krishna, a dark-skinned Adonis, but also more than just a beautiful statue to be gawked at and admired. His passion was evident, as long as the subject was right - math or the need for a more diverse bank of superheroes so all little kids can feel represented. He had never met a stranger and was a master of the dying art of face to face conversation. 

A crooked smile always promised mischievous fun. Of course, that may have been his downfall in the end.

1 - "Now I think you're going to Hell with gasoline boxers on, you arrogant, self-centered, son of -"

2 - "Surviving isn't about air entering and exiting your lungs. It's about being strong enough to take your next breath when it hurts so badly you don't actually want to anymore. Remember that. Breathe."

3 - Seriously, I couldn’t catch a break. We were basically trapped between aliens and monsters. All we needed was a talking Great Dane with the munchies and we could solve crime.

4 - “Human history is rife with stories of conquerors and oppressors, but do you know what other stories abound? The stories of the oppressed who rise up and overthrow those who dare look down on them. That’s what it means to be human. We persevere. We rebel. We may bide our time and choose our moments, but eventually the conquered become the conquerors. I am not nothing. None of us are. We are all something. Human. So be careful, Etruskan,” I spat at her, “our day is coming.”

5 - "Love is a promise. A choice. Made each day, each moment. I love you. Even if you have lost faith in everything else in this life, have faith in that. I choose you. With every beat of my heart."

The first draft of Star Bound can be found here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/71414880-star-bound

You never heard it growing up, no matter what you did. Grandaddy never thought to say it, though I have much less doubt than you do that he felt it. You said it to us often. 

I love you and I'm proud of you. Those words always reassured me that failure didn't have to be permanent. He expected my best, and as long as I gave it, he was proud. And he didn't hesitate to tell me when I was slacking, either. 

You taught me a lot about love and life. When people laugh at me and say, "You are your father's daughter," I take it as a compliment. You are not perfect. You never tried to be. I wouldn't trade you for all the world. 

I'm proud of you.

“I can’t believe you are leaving me,” Sofia pouted while I forced the door of my used Subaru Forester closed. The vehicle now held everything I owned. Well, at least everything I was going to keep.

“It’s not like I’m never coming back,” I told her. “I’ll be crashing on your couch every few months when I come back to town for client meetings.”

Sofia rolled her eyes. “It won’t be the same,” she said, her light French accent carrying on the delicate breeze. “I should never have encouraged you to start your own business. You’d still be working in the office with me instead of running off to parts unknown.”

“Parts unknown? I’m not on an expedition with the Travel Channel,” I laughed. “I’m just moving back home to Mississippi. At least for now.”

“I understand,” she conceded. “My own family in Le Mans would dance in the streets if I decided to move home again.”

“I’m not sure anyone is dancing in the streets for me, but I’ve missed them a little too long. My sister is about to have another baby and I feel like I’ve watched the other two grow up on social media so far. It will be nice to be there and get to know my nephews.”

Sofia nodded and her tight, spiral curls bounced. Her hazel eyes brightened, almost glowing against her dark skin. “I have never been to Mississippi. Perhaps a visit will be in order.”

“I would pay money just to see that.” Sofia’s personality was bigger than all of Magnolia Flats. “You’d take the whole town by storm.”

“What will I do without you? Who will order Thai food with me at four in the morning while we binge watch British television?”

“We haven’t done that in months.”

“But the possibility was always there.”

“I tell you what. Next time you get the urge, we’ll video chat and binge watch together. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be eating Thai food, but we’ll make it work.”

“I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” And with one last hug, I climbed into the driver’s seat, no longer in a New York state of mind.

************

Two days and a body full of sore muscles later, I pulled into the driveway. It was still surreal that it was mine. Nana had lived in this house on the edge of town since long before I was born. Much of the furniture and almost all of the keepsake items were gone now, bequeathed to my parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins so the place was practically bare. It wasn’t the same, and yet it was.

There was a scratch beneath the welcome rug where my brother fell and chipped a tooth when he was ten. There was a dent in the garage wall where a plastic sword fight with my cousin, Trey, had gotten a little too competitive. And of course, the spots on the ceiling in the kitchen where a bottle of something fizzy had exploded in celebration of my aunt’s wedding day. Just like Nana, I refused to patch or paint away any of it. This house told a beautiful story and I wouldn’t erase a single word of it.

The only furniture in the house consisted of a couple of chairs in the living room, a kitchen table, and my old childhood bed. For the last several months, I had only spent a few days at a time here and hadn’t needed more, but now that would change.

Maybe I’ll talk Fi into going furniture shopping with me in a day or two. I have enough boxes to unpack to keep me busy until then anyway.

The grocery store had to come first. My stomach rumbled louder than the thunder steadily moving closer. I quickly moved the boxes from the Forester to the parlor, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor so that I would have a place to put the foodstuffs in the car and set off.

“Olivia Montgomery,” a voice called as I unashamedly munched on a bag of granola in aisle three, and began loading my cart.

I swallowed and set the granola in the basket, wiping my hands on my jeans in a most unladylike fashion. “Mrs. Helmsley. How are you?” I reached out to shake the hand of my stepmother’s friend, but the woman engulfed me in a hug instead.

“Why, my gracious, haven’t you just blossomed. I still remember when you were just knee high to a grasshopper! What on Earth are you doing here?” The woman is shorter than me and I could see that her roots were showing. Whatever I said to Mrs. Helmsley would be beauty shop gossip by the next morning at ten.

“Well, most of my business is done online, so I decided to move back a little closer to family. At least for a while. Nana’s house can’t just sit empty, but I couldn’t bear the thought of selling it just yet. This seemed like the best option.”

“It’s so nice to hear of one our young people moving home instead of leaving. I’m so glad you’re back. Why didn’t your mother tell me?”

Probably because it was easier to pretend she wasn’t ashamed of me when I was over 1,000 miles away. “You know Gretchen, she’s full of surprises,” I answered with a shrug.

“That she is. Well, I better run along, Martin will think I got lost in the soup aisle, but you don’t be a stranger, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered with an easy smile as the woman sauntered past, and then rolled my eyes at her back.

I had at least two similar encounters before I made it out of the store. There would be welcome home casseroles ringing my doorbell in no time. Gotta love a small town.

After I unloaded the groceries in my grandmother’s kitchen - my kitchen- I sighed and picked up my phone. Who was I kidding? I was starving and didn’t have the energy left to cook. Tonight was a pizza night.

While I waited, I hooked up the TV and set up the wifi. I bribed my sister, Julia, to be here earlier in the week when everything was hooked up so I didn’t have to wait when I got here. I propped my feet on a box and started streaming something from Amazon just in time for the doorbell to ring.

“Thank Heaven, my stomach is about to eat itself.”

“How come I had to hear from Tammy Helmsley that my little girl was back in town?” my dad asked as he handed me a pizza box.

The delivery boy pulled out of the driveway and took off. “I could have paid him, at least.”

“I tipped him well,” Carson Montgomery shrugged. “You were supposed to call when you got here.”

“Daddy, I’m twenty-seven years old. I can handle a few boxes and a grocery run by myself. I was going to call you in the morning.”

“Gretchen is offended. She was going to cook dinner for you.”

“And if I had called expecting dinner she would have been equally offended,” I mumbled to myself.

“What?”

“I said I just wanted to relax a little here. It was a long drive and after the last eighteen months in New York, the quiet was a welcome change.”

He gave me a look that said he had actually heard the original statement, but I feigned innocence.

“Uh-huh. Well, tomorrow night you can come over for dinner.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Another look.

“Yes, sir.”

He stayed to chat while I munched on pizza, stealing a piece for himself. I get along well with my father and didn’t mind the company. He was easy going and accepted that I was an adult with my own life, so our relationship was usually smooth sailing. When he got up to leave, he patted the wall by the door.

“I’m glad you’re home, Baby Girl.”

“Me, too.” I think.

“Nana would be thrilled. You know she was proud of you, right? She just missed you a lot.”

“I know.”

He nodded and headed out onto the porch. “You need to fix that light,” he commented, gesturing to the burnt out bulb on the left side of the door.

“Will do.”

“See you tomorrow night.” He got in his truck before I could respond to that, no doubt avoiding any attempt I might make at an excuse for not going. It’s not that I don’t ever get along with my stepmother. Gretchen was pretty nice, but she still treated me like a teenager and that drives me crazy.

By the time I turned out the light to go to sleep, I wasn’t sure what had worn me out more; the almost eighteen hours I spent driving to get here, or the handful of hours since my arrival. As I fell asleep, I was desperately hoping I hadn’t just made a huge mistake.

I put my book down on the tray table and looked out the window. It was no use. I had read the same page at least three times and still had no idea what it said. The plane would be landing in

Atlanta soon anyway. Why not go ahead and give into the temptation to obsess?

I’m an idiot. All of Magnolia Flats will be gossipping about this before dinner. Claudette is going to be so pissed. I should have been the one to tell her. I’m the worst friend ever.

Forty-five minutes later the plane had circled the airport twice before getting clearance to land, my connecting flight was late, and I was still beating myself up.

There were only a few things that would make me feel better about my current predicament: shopping, chocolate, calling Fisher to clear up any misunderstandings, and calling Claudette to come clean.

Shopping it is.

Hartsfield-Jackson is not a small airport by any stretch of the imagination, but it is still an airport. That means the shops are filled with overpriced items nobody needs anyway. I wandered through several of them before giving up and buying expensive chocolate and coffee at one of the cafes.

My flight wasn’t any closer to boarding than when I started. The weather had turned ugly fast, and I watched the nearest status screen as my flight, along with so many others, go from “late” to “delayed”.

Sighing, I pulled out my phone. Not quite having the courage to face the situation head on just yet, I called Fiona.

“Hey, friend!” Fi’s chipper voice exclaimed upon answering. “Are you home already?”

“No, the weather in Atlanta has turned to crap and my flight is delayed. I’m passing the time and thought I’d see how bad the aftermath is.”

“The staff did a pretty good job without me last night. Which is good, since that’s what I pay them for,” Fi responded. Fi owned and ran a rather successful bar and grill in our hometown. It was adorable and cozy, and it probably didn’t hurt that it was one of the only places in town open past nine o’clock. Magnolia Flats was that kind of town. Actually, all of Riverside County was like that.

“Have you heard any crazy rumors?” I tentatively asked my friend. That was the best part of about Fi owning the local watering hole - she was privy to every rumor or piece of news that blew through that town as soon as the first blabbermouth breathed the words.

“Not since I saw you last night,” she half laughed. A quick pause told me she was already catching on. “Why? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. Spill.”

I closed my eyes tight as if to hide from what I was about to say. “I... might have...sort of…”

“Oh, for the love, spit it out.”

“I kissed Fisher.”

The sharp intake of breath was followed by a squealing giggle. “Seriously? Fisher? The Fisher? As in Caspian Fisher Beauregard?”

“That’s the one. Our best friend’s older brother. On the night of her engagement party,” I was somewhat less enthusiastic.

“Well, yeah, there’s that. Have you told her?”

“No.”

“Coward.” The amusement in Fi’s voice brought me out of my self-berating state and straight into one of ire.

“What am I supposed to say? Hey, congratulations, again, on getting engaged! Thanks for making me a bridesmaid! Oh, by the way, I made out with your brother last night, and there is a solid chance that the whole town will be talking about us instead of your wedding. So even though you have been waiting for this since we were barely old enough to put your mom’s lace table runner on our heads like a veil, you’re officially yesterday’s news.” I huffed a breath. “That would go over well.”

“It’s not like you did it to purposely undermine her.”

“It doesn’t matter, if it gets around town, all anybody will be talking about is how her brother and one of her best friends hooked up the night of her party. That’s not the kind of attention she wants.”

“Well, nobody is talking about it. So either nobody knows and Fisher’s not talking, or nobody cares.”

“We know the latter isn’t true. On a slow news day, you run the risk of someone making something up just to have something to say.”

Fi laughed. “True. So tell me what happened.”

I took a deep breath and forced it out. “Well, since my parents left the party early and I didn’t have a car in town, Fisher offered to give me a ride home. So when we all finally dispersed, he took me back to my grandmother’s house.”

“You mean your house.”

“Yeah.” The house had technically been mine for about six months now, ever since Nana’s will was settled. The house was at the edge of town, and she had no doubt been hoping her prodigal granddaughter would finally move back home and “settle down” like she always thought I should. I couldn’t just sell it, so for now, it was where I stayed whenever I blew through town. “Anyway, he walked me to the door, and while I was unlocking it he put a hand on the door frame and got a massive splinter.

“I invited him in so I could help him with it and then give him a bandage. I found a first aid kid and was helping cover the cut when I looked up at him and he just kissed me.”

“Wait, you said you kissed him.”

“He started it, but...I definitely kissed him back,” I admitted.

“Then what?” she asked with far too much interest.

“I’m not even sure exactly. There was a lot more kissing, and somehow I ended up sitting on the countertop next to my grandmother’s antique teapot.” I shook my head as if it would somehow erase the awkwardness of the memory. “His phone went off and it just...broke the spell, thankfully. He answered it and backed away from me. After that, he waved and let himself out while he was still on the phone. I’m pretty sure it was Gunther saying he needed a place to sleep because his wife kicked him out again.”

“It probably was. I did hear a little something about that today. So he just walked out with not another word?”

“Yep. And then my dad picked me up before the crack of dawn this morning to drive me to all the way to Memphis in time for my flight home. I didn’t really sleep so I’m surviving on caffeine and shame. What was I thinking?”

“That Fisher is super hot and you’re a single woman? Come on, if this had happened on any other night you might be a little reluctant to face Claudette, but you wouldn’t really be ashamed of doing it. Right?”

“I don’t know,” my hand found its way to my face and my fingers massaged my temples. “It would still be awkward and she might still be mad, but she wouldn’t flip her lid like I know she’s going to about it happening right now. Either way, I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn’t get caught up in Hurricane Fisher.”

“You didn’t just promise yourself. You and I both promised Claudette when we were fourteen. Right after Victoria got spurned by him and dropped Claudette as a friend. But that was a million years ago. I really don’t think she’s going to hold it against you.”

“Fi, this is Claudette we’re talking about.”

“Okay, before we go any further, I really need to know one thing,” Fi said sounding serious. “Was he a good kisser?”

“Fi!”

“What? I’ve always wondered.”

“Goodbye, Fi.”

“Spoilsport. Text me when you land in New York.”

I put down the phone and stared at it for a minute. Or an hour. I should tell Claudette. Shouldn’t I? If Fisher wasn’t talking, all I needed to do was keep my mouth shut and nobody would know. And then telling Claudette would be pointless. Right? There was no need to cause strife. Of course, keeping a secret in Magnolia Flats was a little like trying to nail Jello to a tree, pointless and impossible.

And why wasn’t Fisher telling anyone? Was he embarrassed too? Surely not. Fisher has grown up a lot since we were teenagers, sure, but once a player always a player. He’s the king of kiss and tell. So why is mum the word with me? And why does that make me feel weird? I should be grateful.

Ugh. Fisher. Why am I even stressing out over this? He lives in Magnolia Flats, I live in Brooklyn. It’s a long way to Mississippi from New York. This was just a mistake and it didn’t mean anything.

It wasn’t like I’d had a secret crush on him since I was fifteen or anything.

The phone vibrated on the table. Claudette’s name lit up on the screen. With a deep breath and a swipe of the green icon, I braced myself. “Hey, Claud.”

“Olivia Cecily Montgomery!”

I winced. Fi wouldn’t have betrayed me by telling Claudette so quickly. Fisher blabbed after all.

“What?” Playing dumb seemed like the best of all possible options at the moment.

“You left town without saying goodbye to me!”

Oh is that all? My shoulders slumped in relief. “I told you last night before you left the party that I had to leave town early this morning.”

“Last night was such a whirlwind, I can hardly remember most of it.” Background noise told me Claudette was also on the way home. She and Trevor were driving all the way back to Nashville because she had a shift at the hospital tomorrow. “Oh, by the way, my brother was looking for you.”

“Why?” I stiffened and was glad she couldn’t see me.

“Beats me. Fi came over just before we left to say bye one last time. When she told him that you’d already left he was almost irritated. Did y’all get into it last night or something?”

“Something like that. He gave me a ride home after the party.”

“Oh. Maybe you left something in his car. You might want to touch base with him and find out. I gave him your number in case it was something important.”

My eyes rounded, but I tried to keep my voice calm. “Good.” I glanced at the flight status board and started moving toward the gate.

“Listen, I’m probably going to email you tonight or tomorrow so we can start figuring out when we can get together again to do fun stuff like shopping for your bridesmaid dresses, wedding showers, and bachelorette party details.”

“Isn’t Fi supposed to plan those last two? You asked her to be maid of honor last night,” I reminded her, not at all surprised that Claudette was skirting tradition. Her mother certainly wouldn’t allow her to do so regarding the ceremony or reception, so this was her only chance.

“Yes, but she’s running her own business. She has a lot on her plate. It’ll be easier if she has a little help.” Which was Claudette code for I’ve been planning this since I was five. Don’t ruin this for me.

I smiled. Claud would never change. “I’ll be on the lookout for the email. I have to go, but y’all have a safe trip.”

“You too! Thanks for making the trip for me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” I should have skipped the after party, though.

Hanging up, I saw I actually had a missed call and a new voicemail. My plane was boarding, so I ignored it for a moment while I dug out my ticket from my oversized travel purse. When I was safely seated on the plane, and the other passengers were still getting settled, I turned my attention to the message.

“Livi, it’s Fisher.” There was a pause. Is that it? “I didn’t realize you were leaving quite so early this morning.” Another pause. “Call me when you get this.”

Well, that was vague. Maybe I really did leave something in his car. Or what if...no. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t have. We don’t even live on the same side of the Mason-Dixon anymore.

“Ma’am?” A flight attendant got my attention. “Please switch your device to airplane mode.”

“Of course,” I smiled at him.

I’dl be in New York in a couple of hours. The whole situation could wait at least that long…

My cell mates helped me acclimate, as best as I could, to the routine our captors had for us. Meals were delivered by guards and a deep indigo creature with six arms, inky black hair, and what looked like tribal tattoos covering mostly exposed skin.

The pain in my wrist during my brief, pathetic, and futile attempt to resist further incarceration, was actually a type of transmitter that helped the powers that be monitor my vital signs. My meals were designed accordingly.

Of course, "meals" is a generous term. I was given a shot that contained whatever nutritional concoction my transmitter told them I needed in order to maintain the best health level they could manage. There was no chewing, swallowing, or taste involved.

And the indigo girl didn't have a gentle touch. What she did have was a plethora of muscular appendages with which to hold me down. We weren't friends. There may have been a lot of feedback noise coming from the nano-tech translators whenever meal time came around.

I hated mealtime. However, compared to cleansing hour, it was a piece of paradise. Once, every other day, a different creature came around with the guards to bring us clean jumpsuits, combs, and toothbrushes. She waited while we each took turns stripping, cleaning ourselves in the shower, in full view of everyone, and then trading our discarded clothing for something more recently sanitized. The way the guards leered made me feel dirtier, despite the soap and water.

This creature with our clothes had sad eyes and fiery red skin. Her shape was very humanoid, but she had no hair of which to speak. Her orange eyes were filled with pity, but she never spoke. Hers, though, was the kindest face of all those we encountered each day, and the only one that didn't have a tendency to sneer at our every discomfort. It didn't make up for the fact that we felt like we were giving the guards their own personal striptease, but it didn't make it any worse, either.

Once, while the guards were forcing one of my new friends to take off his jumpsuit, I inched over to her.

"What's your name?" I ventured.

Nothing.

"What....planet are you from?" Making small talk with an alien creature who didn't really want to share was difficult, but I figured knowledge was power, no matter how little of either I actually had.

No response.

"Okay, then." I began to inch away. She caught my arm and turned bright orange irises to me.

My name is Lavena. I come from a place called Finero.

She let go. I reeled for just a second before I understood. She didn't use her mouth to speak. She projected into my head.

"That was different."

Try to form your thoughts without speaking. I might be able to sense them. These men, they don't like it when I communicate with the cargo.

I tried, but my thoughts were racing. I had so very many questions. Cargo? Where are we going? What are they? Who are you? Why are you here? Is there any possible way to escape? How much longer will we be in here? Is there a reason they picked us? Or do they take people at random? How long has this been going on?

Try to pick just one thought at a time. It's like there is a whole crowd of people in your head when you do that. It's hard to hear.

Focus. Why are you here?

Much like you, I am here against my will.

Are you a slave?

She raised her chin, but didn't look at me. Something like that. I'm paying off a debt.

Is there a way out of here for any of us? Instead of looking at her, I looked around the room, except for the shower stall. I was at least trying to offer my fellow humans some level of courtesy. Though, not all of them returned the favor.

For me? Time. For you? I don't know.

What are they going to do?

They want to keep you as clean and healthy as possible so that you will look like premium specimens at the auction site on Linute. If you look weak or dirty, the buyers won't pay as much for you.

Who are the buyers?

Beings from all over the Greater Galaxies. Having a human slave is illegal, but it's also a status symbol. You are expensive because you are illicit.

"QX486! You're up."

I stripped and showered quickly. My mind raced again so I was having trouble putting a single thought into place for Lavena to pick up.

When I was out of the shower I picked up my discarded items and traded them for cleaner ones. They had taken my undergarments days ago and, instead, given me a nifty little piece of cloth that looked like an over-sized racerback sports bra. When I put it on, though, it shrank to fit me. No underwear had been given to me. Apparently, going commando was the style in outer space. Super.

As she handed me my clean clothes, I heard Lavena's voice in my head again.

Surviving isn't about air entering and exiting your lungs. It's about being strong enough to take your next breath when it hurts so badly you don't actually want to anymore. Remember that. Breathe.

She met my eyes briefly, and then turned and left the cell with the guards. Her words rang ominously in my head long after she was out of my sight.

*****

To pass the time several of us would talk about movies we had seen, books we had read, music we liked. None of us dared talk about our families. We knew they could listen in to whatever we said and didn't want to put our loved ones at risk. Well, that was part of the reason. We also didn't want to think too hard about them. If we did, the heartbreak of knowing we would never see them again, and never had a chance to say goodbye, was enough to tear us apart. We were all doing what we could to hold it together. No need to add fuel to the fire.

I have always hated exercising, but when you are left too long with nothing to do, sometimes even a workout is preferable to going completely stir crazy. Sit ups, jumping jacks, push ups, yoga, anything to keep moving.

They never turned down the lights for us to sleep, so we just rested when we were tired. The problem was, many of us had nightmares during which we relived some part of our abduction. It was not uncommon to have someone cry out and then sit bolt upright covered in sweat where a moment before they had seemed peaceful.

I tried to sleep. Sometimes I was afraid to close my eyes, afraid of what I would see when I closed them. I was more afraid of what I would see when I reopened them. Sometimes, I wasn't sure what was worse.

Garren, the guy who slept on the cot below mine, would sometimes shake me awake from my nightmares and then sit with me until I calmed down. I did the same for him. He usually didn't say that much, but he didn't have to.

Most bunk mates seemed to do that for each other. Elan and Arabella, Gloria and Ric, Morris and...A6; they all appeared to have the same unwritten agreement that Garren and I did about waking each other up from the worst of the nightmares and then just sitting together until the sufferer could pull themselves together.

A6 wasn't his real name, of course. The guards, Bruegans, Lavena had told me they were, called him QA617, his Earth name was something most of us couldn't quite pronounce. We tried, but when it got difficult, we just called him A6, as if it were a one-word name, like the brand of shoe. He didn't seem to mind, but I always felt guilty about it. I tried to practice his real name whenever I spoke to him. It had two clicking sounds in the middle and I was pretty terrible at it, but I felt like a botched version of the real thing was better than his alien designation.

Apparently, our codes had less to do with any alphabetical or numerical order than they had to do with our cell location, and a code for what part of Earth from which we were taken. Getting information from Lavena was slow going because she didn't see us but for a little while every other day, but she was willing to provide it to me. Sometimes she was so willing to provide it to me that I wasn't sure if I should trust her, but I couldn't figure out exactly why they would feed me false information as opposed to no information at all.

My living conditions were making me paranoid.

Goat Lady, also known as Amel, stopped by after one of our meals, by my best calculation, a couple of weeks into our trip. Bilko was on her heels and a guard stood watch. Garren and I were thumb wrestling while sitting on his bunk. He had been telling me about where he grew up; it was a town to the southeast of Munich. It was a place I'd never been.

"QX486 let me look at your face."

I rolled my eyes, but stood and took a step slightly closer to her.

"Good. The bruise and cut are both healing nicely. No further treatment is needed before our landing." Amel, finished with her quick assessment, turned to go, but Bilko remained, so she stopped.

"She does look much better now, doesn't she? Come with me."

"No." Garren and I said in unison as he stood and came shoulder to shoulder with me.

"Don't worry, boy, your friend will be returned to you in time. Let's go."

"No." I shook my head.

"You don't really have a choice," he lowered his head a little to be even with mine, "It's time to ride the Pony Express."

I felt my eyes get bigger, my peripheral vision caught my cell mates exchanging looks, my breathing increased and I tried not to shake. I ached with fear.

He reached for me and I took a step back. He reached for me again. I took another step back. I ran into the bunk.

"Corvus." He called the guard over his shoulder without taking his eyes from me. 

"Activate her collar."

My collar. They had fastened it around my neck weeks ago. It wasn't tight. I could wash around it. I never forgot it was there, but it had never before served a purpose. I wish that were still true. The guard hit a code on our keypad and the electrical current that zapped me in that moment was excruciating. I hit my knees.

It was a shock collar.

"Now?" He asked.

"No." I would rather be electrocuted than raped.

"Corvus, activate all their collars."

The screams of my fellow humans filled the air. They were all affected. Garren hit his knees next to me with gritted teeth. I was on all fours, and he soon joined me. This lasted longer than the first jolt. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like half a lifetime.

"Don't go. Not for us." Garren was still catching his breath, but he tried to move between Bilko and me. It was the first time since my twin brother punched that handsy frat guy in college that someone was actually trying to protect me.

So I had to go. I couldn't let him suffer for me.

"Stop! Okay."

"No! Scarlett, did you not just hear me?"

"I knew you could be reasonable." Bilko gloated. I tried not to look at anyone else, so I focused a hate filled gaze at Bilko.

"Scarlett! No. We're probably going to die soon anyway. Don't do this." Garren gripped my wrist.

"Corvus, QR904." Bilko pulled me from the floor and out of Garren's grip just as his collar activated again. I was thrown over Bilko's shoulder like a bag of dog food. My head still twitched a little. "That's enough. Seal them back in," he said casually as he stepped out of the cell.

In my position, slung over Bilko's shoulder like that as he walked behind Corvus and Amel, I was able to look back to my cell. Arabella, Elan, and Morris had all moved forward and watched from inside the electrified barrier with a mixture of horror and sadness on their faces. Garren, still on his hands and knees, wore a mask of pain and fury.

The other cells I passed watched with curiosity and wariness as I went by.

My head was buzzing, but I was trying hard to think of what to do. There had to be something. I was going to fight. I just had to stop tingling long enough to be able to feel my hands before I could throw a punch.

I was still trying to figure out a plan when we passed through a doorway into what was clearly living quarters, nice ones. We had traversed enough of the ship to know that it was bigger than I had originally guessed. Lavena told me that it had smaller travel pods that picked up "cargo" and returned to it, while it hid out of the way of satellites, but I still hadn't pictured something like this. It rivaled the size of some hotels.

NASA’s budget was far too small if they didn’t have the resources to see this mamma jamma hanging out so close to home.

He slid me down his body until my feet hit the floor. I immediately took a step back. He eyed me for a moment before closing the distance. I stepped back again and again, faster each time, with him steadily approaching in a very predatory manner until I backpedaled into a wall. I glanced to the side and saw a porthole. Lights were flashing by in an unusual manner. I had seen lights like that before, never in person, but in pictures and documentaries. Aurora Borealis looked just like that.

Trying to distract myself from the warm breath I felt on my neck, and buy time enough for me to think of something, I asked, "What is that?"

"You're looking at the inside of a wormhole. We're taking a shortcut. I want you all to still be alive when we get there." His tongue touched my ear. I started and slid sideways. I hit a table with my thigh.

His dark laughter sent shivers down my spine. He picked a bottle off the table and looked it over, before showing it to me.

"French wine. It came with a darling little sommelier. She cried too much, though. You won't disappoint me with tears. No, you're a fighter."

I was about to also be sick. He replaced the bottle on the table and stuck his hand in my shirt.

I kneed him in the groin. He might have been an alien, but I was betting that since he was planning on raping me, his reproductive organs were similar and it would still hurt. It did, just not enough. He recoiled a bit, but he didn't go down.

He grabbed my thighs, and his talons dug into my hamstrings. I could feel the skin start to break and the blood trickle down my leg as he lifted me up and pressed himself against me.

"You'll pay for that, several times over."

He set me on the table, knocking the bottle to the floor. It broke and the smell of wine filled the air. His hands left my thighs and he started clawing at my shirt. He was shredding the fabric with each swipe. I brought my hands to either side of his face and put my thumbs in his eyes and pushed. He roared in pain and stepped back. Without him balancing me on the table I fell off of it and to the floor. Broken glass from the bottle cut my palm, as I rolled to land on my hands and knees. I picked up the broken bottle by the still mostly intact neck and spun on my knees. I thrust the bottle upward to meet him as he came at me. The jagged edges pierced his clothes and his scaly skin as blood poured forth. He made a choked sound and staggered back before falling to the floor.

Apparently, broken glass hurts worse than a knee. His groin was dark with blood. The sound he made was what I imagine a wounded lion would make in a dominance battle. I made a break for the door. There wasn't really anywhere to go, but I needed to be out of this room.

I didn't make it.

The door opened and my shock collar went off as two guards rushed in, one of them with a device that obviously controlled my collar, but looked eerily like a television remote, in hand. The shocks kept coming.

At some point, Amel entered and sounded frantic. "Stop! Her vital stat alarm is going off, she can't take much more, you'll kill her!"

"She attacked the Admiral."

"If she dies, she's worthless! I want my money!"

The conversation continued. My ears picked up the sound, but nothing registered. The corners of my visions darkened and were closing in with each beat of my heart. The shocks stopped, but my heart was beating out of my chest and I was sure I was seconds away from a heart attack.

"Get Admiral Zadak to the med bay. He's losing a lot of blood."

"I want her dead!" He bellowed, though his voice was weaker than before.

"You're in shock, so I'm in charge now. She lives, but I'll take care of it." The guards carried Bilko out of the room, and Amel stopped by me. "You better be worth the troubles you've caused." With that, she kicked her hoofed foot into my abdomen and all my breath left me. The thread of consciousness I had been clinging to slipped through my fingers.

I awoke in the med bay where Amel first inserted my nanobytes. She was there, again, and working a bandage around my hand.

"At least most of the damage won't be noticeable from the auction block, and the cuts ought to mostly heal before then." I didn't know if she was talking to me or to herself.

I picked up my head and regretted it. The room spun. Queasiness engulfed me. I set my head back down. There were bandages on my thighs, and around the bottom part of my rib cage. I wasn't wearing my jumpsuit. Amel finished with my hand and tossed a new set of clothes at me.

"Here, get up and get dressed. We need to get you back to that cell before the Admiral comes out of sedation. If he sees you, he'll have you killed. I would rather sell you."

I stood up and began dressing. It took a few tries because my feet seemed to think we were at sea. My torso cried out with each movement.

"The pain will subside. Get out."

So much for bedside manner.

A guard "escorted" me back to my cell. My feet hurt with each step, but my dizziness subsided. He had my shock collar remote and what looked like a nightstick. He threatened me with both, repeatedly.

When I arrived back at my cell, all conversation ceased. Garren stood up from his bunk and approached me. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. He didn't touch me. He just waited.

"He didn't rape me. He tried, but I, uhm, I sort of stabbed him with a broken bottle."

"Holy skweee-eerrrt!" It wasn't Morris, but Elan.

"Good for you," Arabella chimed in.

"Is he dead?" This was Ric.

"No. He won't be having sex anytime soon, but he's alive."

"Wait, are you saying you stabbed him in the..." Morris made a motion with his hand as if he couldn't even say the words because it might happen to him if he voiced it out loud.

"Yeah." My voice sounded small.

They gawked at me.

Garren still didn't say anything, he just raised his eyebrows in a way that asked if I was okay. It was that gentle, friendly, concerned look that set me off. I broke down into tears, big heaving sobs. I walked to him and tucked my arms between us. He wrapped his arms around me. It might have seemed a strange gesture for someone I had only known a couple of weeks, but it turns out that alien abduction and incarceration on a spaceship together is a way to make friends a little faster.

I cried and cried. He just hugged me, sometimes running his hand over my hair and saying, "I know, I know." It was soothing. I don't know how long I was like that, but he never tried to move away. It wasn't until I lightly pushed that he backed up. His bunk was on the bottom, so I sat on it. I didn't want to bother climbing to mine. I stared, unseeing, across the room. He just sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and said nothing, just like after I had a nightmare. Only this time, I was still living it.

I still remember the looks on their faces, that crowd of people. They claimed they wanted to comfort us, to give us their condolences. It felt more like they all wanted to spy on our grief. A seven-year-old shouldn't have been able to make that observation. There is so much about that night that I remember, and so much I'll never understand. Why did this happen to us? How could you be gone? 

It's been over two decades. You didn't see me go on a first date, teach me how to drive a car, or help me get ready for prom. I graduated college and you weren't in the crowd. During my wedding, your face didn't greet me. Over twenty years and I still feel cheated.

I know it's not your fault. If you had a choice I know you would still be here. But you didn't. I didn't either. 

That night is seared into my brain because of a single moment. You looked so peaceful. Small feet carried me across the carpeted room, filled with mourners. Women began to wail as I reached for your hand. So cold. You were like ice beneath my fingers and then I knew. You weren't there. You never would be again.

Strong hands lifted me up and carried me as my whole being trembled with loss. Those same hands that pulled my hair, shoved me in the dirt, and gave me bunny ears in our family photos. You would have been proud of him, Mama. He comforted me when I needed him. 

"Don't cry for her now," he said, in a voice so soothing that he didn't sound like my brother at all. "She's in a better place."

But I'm still here. 

I still miss you. 

I'll always remember that night, full of pain and understanding. That was the night I said goodbye. But not to you - to my childhood. Over and gone too soon. I mourn that loss too.

I still carry you with me. Your voice has faded in my memory, but I still know the sound of your laugh. I'm a mother now, too, and I hope that my children will always remember the sound of my joy. Yours was beautiful.

I miss you, Mama. You're always with me, but it still hurts. 

I think it always will.

I want to hate you, but I can't. I never could, but not for lack of trying. You disapprove of my choices. You are ashamed of me and never cease to show it in your passive-aggressive manner.

"I don't care. I don't need to make you happy, I'm making me happy. If you don't think I'm good enough, that's your problem." They're just a lot of words that mean nothing. Lies.

What I really mean is that I desperately need your approval. Your love. Your affection. I just can't sacrifice my happiness for yours. Please understand. Love me anyway. Please.

I really wish you knew exactly what I meant, but couldn't say.

Nobody can hurt you like family.