Chapter 15

Lorelai

W hen I stood up to Overlord Ellax, it was like standing up to my former husband, standing up to the battle scars and wounds of a horrible relationship that had taken what was meant to be the most sacred bond in the universe and twisted it in ugly, deadly ways. It was standing up to the all the years I'd been beaten down. It was standing up to my future having been wrecked, and all of the forces, external and internal, that seemed determined to select my destiny.

Then I'd fled. I only had so much fight in me. A warrior can only keep going so long before they retreat. A soldier can only march so long before their legs collapse. And a woman with my past can only assert herself so much until the demons return, poking with hot needles, slicing with deadly knives of doubt, carving at scars and re-opening old wounds that have never fully healed.

I fled because I didn't know this man, this alien male, like I barely knew myself. I'd been trying to get to know myself again, after all those years of pouring my entire being into my sons and failing marriage. The first, I'd never regret. The second? Well, I simply didn't have it in me to endure it a second time. I crumbled. I ran.

I didn't go far.

One thing about me—I'd well and truly had enough of flight. For the brief span that I'd settled into my new life, my new job, I'd felt a sense of control, of direction, of strength and purpose, that I hadn't felt in ages. I couldn't lose that now. I wouldn't. So, I ran from the Overlord's room, but not to find a hidey hole and shut out the world. It was to get away long enough to think. I paced the space ship's corridors at a faster clip than I probably should have. I passed a variety of crew members, some with humanish features and some more alien, all of whom had glanced at me in surprise but didn't try to stop me.

The humanish aliens, such as the Asterions, barely garnered my notice. I was accustomed to their different colored skin and eyes, and their strangely shaped ears. The more alien features, such as tentacles, elephant-like trunks, double sets of eyes, horns, or hooves and claws rather than hands/feet—those features were a bit harder to ignore. Nevertheless, in my current state of mind, I found my gaze bouncing off them and back to the walkway. I was too immersed in my problems to give much consideration to what the ship's crew looked like. Most space ships tended to be manned by crewmates from all twelve planets in the Coalition, not to mention their colony planets like Earth, so there was a variety of species to keep them running smoothly.

Endless grey ramps and railings, floors and ceilings, bore witness to my frantic pacing. Occasionally, I'd pass an open window portal, but those only gazed out into the overwhelming vastness of stars, suns, and planets—really no different in monotony than the interior of the spaceship itself. The sameness both soothed and irritated my nerves. I walked until I reached locked doors and barred corridors where I could walk no further, then I turned and went the other way. There was no pattern to my journey; no method to my flight. I was simply moving to move. I couldn't think while crammed up in that relatively small room with the alien male I'd apparently drunkenly married.

While every instinct screamed at me to flee, flee, flee, the rational side of me knew that wasn't the answer.

This had happened.

I didn't remember it, yet it had happened.

Even though I would've loved to believe it was a nasty prank pulled by the Overlord, the ship's captain, the crew, and the Asterion spokesperson, I knew none of these aliens had the time or energy to work out such a joke on a lowly peon like myself. Nope. This was real. And I had to do something about it.

I stopped in front of one of those windows, the thick, alien-made glass all that separated me from falling away into the cosmos until I struck a star. Emotionally, I felt like I was plummeting into the chaos of the universe. I'd only just begun to find my feet and get settled, now this.

"Stars guide me," I prayed, placing my palm on the cold glass.

I didn't know why.

I wasn't a religious or superstitious person. Even if I was, I didn't ascribe any particular power to the stars. However, I was feeling absolutely bereft of any guidance, and decided a little plea to the shining bright lights couldn't hurt anything.

"What am I going to do?" I rested my forehead against the smooth glass, ignoring the ship's crewman with orange skin who cast me a curious glance as he strolled by. I'm sure the story of the loony human female who'd married the Asterion Lead Advisor had already spread far and wide. I didn't really care what the crewman thought; what anyone thought. I was far too wrapped up in worrying about how I'd manage this life twist.

"Another husband who finds me old, dull, and unattractive. But what does he need from me? What does he want? A baby. He wants a baby. His superiors want our marriage to be a bridge between humans and Asterions. It's not like it has to look good—it just has to look real. It doesn't have to be forever, right?"

My head swam. I squeezed my eyes shut, blotting out the stars, trying to focus my spinning thoughts. Trying to grab only the most vital ones out of the nanosphere, clutch them, and force them into alignment.

"Okay, life's going to be different now," I told myself, "If the Council doesn't rescind their decision. Which—let's be honest. If they made this decision at all, they probably won't. So, what do I do? Adapt. Adjust."

This was the exact same speech I'd given myself when I finally worked up the nerve to leave Charlie. When I'd been facing a terrifying future in an alien-led world, with scant job skills or history, and no resources other than my own strength and abilities.

"But different doesn't necessarily mean bad," I told myself. "There have to be employment opportunities on Asterion. If I was going to build a life working and traveling on space ships, I could just as easily build a life on Asterion doing something.

"I simply have to give this alien guy a baby first."

Getting pregnant at thirty-nine years old was not something I'd ever seen myself doing. It had been many years since diaper changes, midnight feedings, colic, and teething. The twins were grown men, off serving the Interstellar Coalition. Did I really have it in me to go through this again? Pregnancy, morning sickness, breastfeeding—at my age?

My eyes were still shut against the truths bombarding me. The feel of the cool glass was all that grounded me when my life seemed to be spinning like the stars cartwheeling by.

"You can do this, Lorelai," I told myself. "You have to. Don't think of it as a curse. Think of it as a stepping stone onto something else. Something better. And, at the end of the day, you'll have another child to love."

A half-alien child, which was something I'd never foreseen—ever. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

What was a bad thing? Having to share custody and raise that child with this prick of an alien Overlord, who'd already made his scorn for my human lineage quite transparent.

Ugh.

Last night, half-inebriated and lost in the throes of doing something wild, I'd been all set to get into bed with the guy. Now, in the cold light of rationalism, I realized giving him his heir meant having sex with a male who utterly disdained me.

Well, you've certainly done that before, I told myself, finally opening my eyes and pushing away from the window with a sad smile. You can do it again. This time, you can actually use your position to gain something good for yourself. You just have to be smart and bargain for it.

Bargain for it.

The words hammered in my brain, matching the beat of my footsteps against the black textured rubber mat that lined all walkways to prevent slipping.

Bargain for it.

Bargain for it.

What could I bargain? Lifting my face, I squinted down the lengthy tube of a walkway, attempting to get my bearings while also reigning in my whirling brain. Myself. I would have to bargain myself. I'd already lost one massive chip. I'd given myself away in marriage, apparently. While that frustrated me, and redirected every single plan I'd been forming for my future, it also wedged me into a unique position to gain something more.

Didn't it?

Or was I only fooling myself that I could take this horrible twist and bend it into something worthwhile? Something good, even?