Maggie
Ihaven’t had a pet since I had a hamster when I was about seven. It escaped and chewed through all the wiring in my step-father’s prized hi-fi.
Probably the only good thing in my crappy childhood.
I am not sure what drew me to the creature which is nestled in my arms. It’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve seen in my entire life, and that includes the massive scaled men who turn into dragons.
I have no idea how many feet it has or how it moves at all.
The three eyes, one larger than the rest, set into neon-orange fur, should be off-putting, but instead because they are wide and sparkling green, they’re super cute.
In fact, everything about Horace is cute.
And most probably, it shouldn’t be. I put him on a table and take a few pictures to send through to the group chat as Driok watches, barely containing himself.
I meant it though. If the creature was going to eat the ship, surely he would have done it by now, instead of finding me and telling me he was hungry.
Anyone know anything about horcs?
I add the caption to my picture and then put my comm away. Driok has taken a seat at the nearest dining table, and somehow he looks tired.
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a Sarkarnii look anything other than box fresh.
I take a seat opposite him and put Horace down next to me. He chitters and then drops to the floor, snuffling off in search of crumbs.
“No ship eating,” I call after him.
“No ship eating,” he responds…in Driok’s voice.
“Are all horcs good mimics?”
“I’ve never got close enough to find out. They’re trouble,” Driok rasps, gazing at me. “But then you’re trouble. I should have expected the two of you to find each other.”
“What can I say?” I inspect my fingernails and then rub them on my shoulder. “I aim to please.”
I find myself on the lap of a very large, very horny Sarkarnii in the blink of an eye. His cock is pressing into the small of my back and Driok has my chin clasped in his fingers.
“You are a distraction, little mate, the ultimate distraction,” he rasps, his lips brushing over mine and my body melting beneath him.
Which is not my intention at all. Yet it seems at every turn, when I’m in close proximity to Driok, I lose any control I might have. I am simply a puddle. A great big Sarkarnii loving puddle.
“And what am I distracting you from this time?” I curl my hand around his, noting the rough callouses.
“The mission I thought was finished,” he replies.
“You don’t have missions. You’re supposed to be protecting Vorostor.” I pull my chin out of his grip. “And generally menacing anyone you don’t like or want something from.”
“Who told you that?”
“I have my ways and means,” I respond as my comm helpfully chimes.
I pull it out of my pocket and check the messages. They appear to be mostly Lydia doing a squee. I nod sagely at it and then put it back.
Driok stares at me.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
He narrows his eyes.
“If you get to have secrets, Driok, I get to have secrets.” I put my hand on my pocket and stare at him.
Let’s see how long he lasts when he thinks I’m keeping something from him.
Horace climbs onto my knee, and I pop him on my shoulder, getting up from the table and going over to the food dispensers to order some fee. It comes out into a cup, hot and fragrant, smelling not like Horlicks for a change but perhaps a bit more like a chai latte.
About damn time.
“What secrets do you have?” Driok growls from above me, one hand planted on the food dispenser as he blocks my exit with his body.
Horace makes a chuckling noise in my ear. He’s about as intimidated as I am by this big Sarkarnii.
And it would appear Driok lasts approximately thirty seconds when it comes to me having secrets.
“Why should I tell you?” I ask, taking a careful sip of my fee.
“Because I am your mate,” Driok intones.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I respond. “Because mates don’t abandon each other when something more interesting comes along.”
“I did not mean to leave,” Driok growls. “There was something…”
“Yeah, yeah. I guess there’ll always be something.” I duck under his arm.
“Something,” Horace says in Driok’s voice, and I have to stifle a laugh.
“Tell me about your comm message.” Driok is in front of me.
“Tell me what the fuck we’re doing in space heading away from Vorostor.”
I sidestep him and make it back to the dining table, where I put the cup down and Horace moves from my shoulder to my lap where I think he curls up…probably.
I feel Driok’s presence behind me, but I wait, as it seems my big bad Sarkarnii is not so good on the waiting front. Although he’s good at making others wait, as I found out.
Eventually, he flops down opposite me. His tail lashes, which is always a sign of agitation in Sarkarnii, so I have, at least, irked him a little.
“My job is not to protect Vorostor. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
“I think my friends might have noticed. As well as the other warlords,” I say, keeping my cool and taking another sip of my drink and raising my eyebrows at him. “Rosalie says Dante was very amused at your recent attempt to drug him.”
Driok runs his huge hand over his face, his massive claws making me fear for his eyes.
“Dante will always make up a narrative to suit his purpose,” I growl. “But he does not know what I do.”
“And what do you do, Driok?”
He looks at me, his eyes filled with fire as the entire ship reverberates with an alarm which sends Horace shooting into my hair.
“You’re about to find out.”