Her Alien Rescued (Alien Quickies)

Chapter 1

The slab is older than anything I’ve ever seen—older than the Volderens themselves.

Its surface glimmers faintly beneath the Martian dust, etched with symbols that seem to hum with secrets.

My breath catches as I brush away the red soil, the grit rasping against my gloves.

A shard of cerium, a precious mineral on Earth, flashes under the sun.

As a teen, I’d had an unhealthy obsession with geology, which I’d been able to keep alive as a side hobby due to visiting multiple archeological digs by my counterparts.

“Holy shit," I gasp, my voice shattering through the helmet comm.

"This language—it's pre-Volderen. Maybe pre-everything we've ever found.

"Static explodes in my ear before Dr. Rana's voice slices through, controlled but razor-sharp.

“Ellie. Your left. Now. That metal protrusion next to the cerium?

It's a lifecord prototype. Get it in containment before the radiation signature changes. I'm repositioning to quadrant six.”

I nod, moving my gloved hand to one of my specialized pressure suit pockets for something to collect the alien device.

With a bag in one hand, I use the other to gently scoop the dark metal bracelet onto my palm, rotating my wrist to maximize the sunlight.

Symbols coil around its curve—hieroglyphic shapes tangled with strokes resembling Sumerian script.

Squinting, I tilt it toward the sun, my complete attention focused on the markings. I sound out the phrases that look familiar. “S-sarnis halanari”—my boot slips on the rocky ground as I balance on the balls of my feet, but I remain enraptured— “udi z-z-ziel.” I frown.

The translation forms in my mind like a whisper. ‘Reveal light and transcend’. Or maybe ‘be transcended’.

A chill skates down my spine.

My foot slips. Gravity—thin and deceptive—turns the stumble into a slow-motion fall. I flail, reaching for the lifecord before it hits the ground. My fingers miss.

But the bracelet doesn’t fall. It moves, arcing toward me like it knows where it belongs, clamping around my covered wrist with a sharp click.

I freeze. That’s impossible.

Cold floods my veins. The metal tightens, pulsing faintly, even though there’s a layer of clothing between it and my skin. I brace for impact with the ground as I fall—but the impact never comes.

Color detonates across my visor. The Martian sky dissolves into a storm of iridescent light, swallowing the rust-red horizon. Mountains vanish. Pressure slams into me. Crushing, pulling, binding my suit like shrink-wrap.

My brain feels like it’s splitting open, scattering my thoughts and muffling all sound.

Billions of stars surge around me, burning bright and flooding my senses until they’re all I am. Their brilliance pierces my bone, my soul, my being.

Then darkness swallows me whole.