8
Surnen, Medical Station
“You’ve been suckingface for five minutes. Either get a room or get out,” Rachel barked. She looked my way and rolled her eyes. I’d seen her do it before when her mates’ backs were turned, and I recognized it as a human’s sign of bother.
I stifled a smile at the way Trax was struggling to take his mouth and hands off our mate. They were in the entry of the medical lab, preventing the door from closing. Rachel had been here when we arrived, busy with her latest task. She was a proven scientist and a valuable member of the medical group.
Mikki whimpered and her fingers were clutching at Trax’s uniform shirt. I was hard, not only from watching them but from the blast of arousal—like an ion cannon—they sent my way through the collars.
We’d taken her first thing this morning, but I understood Trax’s hesitancy to separate. I hadn’t been aware of the depth and extent of his insecurities about his integrations. Many on The Colony had pride issues, were vain to a certain degree, about how their bodies had changed at the hands of the Hive. I saw it as survival, and so had Mikki, based on what she’d told Trax the night before. His concerns were in his head and only valid with her. She was the one who could make them an issue, who could destroy him in a second if she displayed fear or horror at seeing the silver.
It had been a good thing I’d bared myself to her in the transport room. She’d seen my integrations first. Knew what they looked like, knew what to expect when Trax had bared himself. She hadn’t been repulsed by me, so Trax’s fears were unfounded.
Satisfaction in Mikki was overwhelming. She’d eased Trax’s concerns within seconds, shutting him down by sharing her own marks. Fuck, Earth was primitive. Her skin was marred, and I hated to know she’d suffered. But perhaps they were there to prove to Trax that everyone was broken in some way.
The way her tongue was down his throat, it seemed he’d gotten over his issues readily enough. Now he wouldn’t stop touching her.
She was ours, and work was an annoyance. Our cocks ruled us. I didn’t dare believe we’d surrendered too much power to Mikki. Not yet.
“Seriously,” Rachel added. The beeps and sounds of the lab were lulling to me, but hopefully for Trax it was a reminder that he wasn’t in our bedroom. While I didn’t mind watching them together, the idea of someone walking by and seeing Mikki’s passion, hearing her sounds of pleasure made me ready to fight anyone in the pit who witnessed it.
Trax lifted his head and gave Rachel a glare, although it was somewhat muted by his lust for Mikki. He sighed and rubbed his thumb over Mikki’s lower lip. “Fine,” he said, giving her ass a light swat to push her away from him, but he didn’t go far.
“Hey!” she protested.
I settled into my work, content to have Mikki nearby. We’d yet to discuss what she would do here… other than pleasure us sexually.
Perhaps it was the environment, but my mind turned to my work. I was creating the final steps in the treatment process and was going to add it to the ReGen pod to test on the healing warriors. I’d brought my supplies and had added the serum I’d watched kill the bacteria the day before—just prior to Mikki’s arrival—although there was nothing to do now since the pods did all the work.
Claiming my new mate had been paramount and had prolonged the effects of the few Prillon warriors infected with the virus, but I had no regrets. Now I was content. My collar was around her neck. My seed was inside her body, not growing into a child—not yet—but there was time. I had all the time in the world now that Mikki was mine. I would not let her go at the end of our thirty days, of that I was certain. However, I had a feeling she had not yet accepted that as truth.
Trax’s job was part of a patrol unit, monitoring the underground caves and other places we had discovered the Hive liked to hide. We hadn’t had an incident in some time, but they were relentless. So were we.
He would be doubly diligent now. Like me, he had something precious to protect.
Mikki.
I wanted to ensure the serum was working, then we would take her on a tour of Base 3, but she understood the sick warriors took priority.
“How long do they have to stay in there?” she asked, running her small hand along the outside of a ReGen pod, this one and the next occupied by Prillon warriors who were now recovering. The serum was working. I had promised Prime Nial a cure, and I had delivered on that promise, as always. Now to be patient while the remaining sick were healed; then I could share it with the Fleet. This illness would be a thing of the past.
“A few more hours, mate. Then they will be free to go.”
“This is so amazing.” The awe in her voice pleased me. Not much impressed my mate, and even that facet of her personality I found endearing. She was cynical and questioned everything. She was, in many ways, much like me.
“The ReGen technology is several centuries old, but every living thing fights for survival, even the smallest virus. Sometimes what we can’t see does the most damage.”
“It’s the same on Earth,” she replied. “Hundreds… hell, millions of people have died of an outbreak. Why don’t we have these pod things? We are part of the Coalition now, right? Why didn’t you guys give this technology to Earth?” Her tone of voice was pleasant, innocent, but we were connected by the collars and I clearly felt the anger simmering beneath. Why should humans suffer and die if it was preventable?
“Because the technology can be used to kill as well as heal, and Earth is a provisional member of the Coalition of Planets, not a full member. The very first human matched in the Interstellar Brides Program was tasked with stealing our technology to send back to your human government. Luckily her mates discovered her plan before it was too late.”
“What?” She glanced from me to Rachel, who sat working nearby, staring into the odd contraption she had created with the S-Gen machine upon her arrival. She called it a microscope. I had, at first, thought it nonsense. Everything she did could be done more easily with the microviewer and screen used by every doctor in the Fleet. But she had won me over, and I now often preferred to work on the odd contraption when she was not in the lab. Had even considered creating one of my own.
Rachel must have felt her gaze, for she responded even before lifting her head. “It’s true, Mikki. She was CIA. First bride ever sent out into space. They thought the Coalition made up the whole thing. The Hive. The danger. Everything, just to gain control of Earth.”
Mikki sputtered. “That’s stupid.”
“Agreed.” Rachel finally looked up and smiled. “So, what exactly does a professional surfer do anyway? Well, besides surf.”