Space Opera Comes to Talbot's Peak

Middle of May howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

Okay, I was Muse-struck by this sci fi story idea last week. And as usual it began playing in my head like a movie.  So I thought I'd turn it into today's flash scene. 

~~~~~~

Space Opera Comes to Talbot's Peak

"Jettison escape craft."

Commander Sarza listened to her final order reverberate through the empty battle cruiser.  On screen she watched ten pods emerge from the belly of her ship, then scatter like a flock of hunted birds -- before they cloaked, becoming invisible to the Gray Galactic's surveillance platform.

The monstrous pyramid lasered frequencies nonstop in this sector of the galaxy, the information instantly available to their war fleet.  However, Commander Sarza owned a decent amount of hope that her devoted crew would be rescued or find their way to rebel-held planetoids.

After star-all, they'd decimated the enemy in this sector. Until now that is. With this defeat not one weapon functioned, all of them drained to uselessness.

"Why are you still onboard?" she demanded, hearing Nherone's quiet familiar tread.

"Why would I leave you?" he countered, stepping before her, his night-purple eyes glistening with concern.

Sarza rapidly roamed her gaze over his face. Bronze-red, glistening skin stretched over sharp features, and his prominent elf-like ears swivelled toward her. "The others need you. Leave now," she harshly ordered, knowing it was likely the last time she'd see her paramour, her second in command.

Nherone didn't argue. Instead, he deferred to her wisdom. After kissing her with his gaze, he spun around and raced for his small fighter jet.

Sarza slumped forward, and for a spec of time, she simply sat in her command chair, her senses dulled. The screeching alarm for the ship's auto-destruct had long since run its course.

With a mental snap, she straightened fast and refocused as she'd trained herself to do over the long years of battling the Gray Overlords.  So what if she faced particle obliteration, her precious cruiser blown to its eternal rest.

She remained in command to the end.

Yeah, feck the fat brain androids and their evil, withered hearts. With two minutes ticking down, Sarza threw her gaze at the holo-screen. The Gray's death ring of battle craft advanced at warp speed now.

They knew, and planned to shoot scalar rays in an attempt to halt the Intrepid's destruction. On an impulse she didn't understand but respected, Sarza leapt up rushing to the silicon container that held Herman, the new AI she and her crew had liberated from an outpost lab – before he'd been programmed by the Gray Overlords.

As he proved his loyalty, Herman had been allowed more responsibility in running some of the cruiser's systems. With this final battle, he'd kept them alive and fighting far longer than would have been possible pre his AI assistance. 

The decision had been made to leave Herman behind. Given his unique AI capabilities, they couldn't afford for the Gray's AI master-hive to assimilate him.

At her touch, the container whirred open. "Sleep," Sarza ordered. She scooped the shimmery alabaster egg out, and since Herman was larger than her palm, she pressed him against her chest. "We can go boom together," she whispered.

"No!" burst past Sarza's lips in the following moment as she heard the racing paws of her pet drogon, a small dog-dragon breed.  He sprang, and Sarza caught him against her side, their usual athletic game together.

"What are doing here?" she scolded, hysteria welling up at the thought of his death. "You were supposed to be with the rest of the animals. Safe."

From beneath her arm, Drexi gazed at her, answering with what she called his sweet face.  "Damn the fascists freakazoids," Sarza muttered, fast-walking toward her command chair.

She sat, placing Drexi on her lap. After cradling Herman in the crook of her arm, Sarza stroked her pet's silky slick coat. "You were supposed to be safe. I've had a long space run. Longer than I ever dreamed possible ... I knew the end would come like this ... some day."

Drexi licked her hand in his loving way. One tiny sob broke free, and sadness overwhelmed Sarza.  As the last warning buzz began, her life flashed before her mind's eye.

Tears dripped from the corner of her eyes slightly blurring her vision as Sarza glanced at the holo-screen. Stunned, she stared, watching an unknown sleek warship streak toward her, ahead of the Gray's death ring.

White flames of light surrounded Sarza, and unconsciousness claimed her.

***

Shaky on her feet, Sarza forced her eyes open. About twenty paces away, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a nondescript, skintight uniform stood with his back to her. Hair the color of an Earth puma fell in a thick curtain to his shoulders, and he appeared to be studying something on a com pad, even though he was behind what appeared to be a personal workstation.

Where in the galactic hell was she? This was no Gray prison-interrogation ship. Unless they'd constructed a holo program to deceive her.

Going on the offensive, Sarza demanded in universal vernacular, "Where is my pet?"

The man turned to face her, his manner unhurried. Piercing eyes that reminded her of a clear turquoise sea regarded her, but gave nothing away.

"Where is he?" Sarza took a step forward, discovering she wasn't exactly steady on her booted feet. Dammit it to the next galaxy, and beyond.

"The animal is being tended in the health ward." The man's voice sounded like a low boom, even though he spoke calmly. "I am told he is recovering well."

"What do you mean recovering well?"

"The beam I used to extract you from your exploding cruiser was designed only for your physical signature, Commander Sarza of the Khy Woden."

At his words, Sarza glanced down just to make certain she was still fully attired, given some beams stripped away any garment. Except for her array of weaponry, yeah, so far no problem.

"However," the man continued, his voice even more baritone, "I strengthened the intra-fractional–"

"Got it," Sarza interrupted. "So where is my AI? And how do you know who I am?"

In that instant, her brain kicked in and Sarza's eyes widened involuntarily. "The Hunter," she puffed out, even as all breath fled her body.

Why bother with any pretense? Clearly in her depleted state, there was no way to best him, not now, not mind to mind.

The Hunter grimaced more than smiled. "You can believe me or not, beautiful woman, I have always been allied with your rebel cause."

"Not the story I hear," she fired back, her hand grabbing for the plasma sidearm she didn't have. "I lost two station comrads, two of the best–"

"Two traitors," he interrupted, his expression grim. "Or, I should say, they'd been targeted by the Sirens, and were about to turn to the dark side. I got to them first."

"The Sirens," Sarza murmured. "We've lost several to those machine seductresses. Lost cruisers too, because of it." Narrowing her eyes, Sarza studied The Hunter, who did his wanted holo-poster one better, as far as good looks.

"AI?" he inquired, hiking his dark brows.

What the starhole hell? The Hunter seemed genuine. Yet... this could all be an elaborate deception. Still, her psi-warning system wasn't blaring at her.

"Herman," she stated. "Looks like an egg."

Without answering, The Hunter lowered his gaze, and touched open a compartment on his workstation.  "Herman?" he asked, holding out her AI, who fit neatly inside his palm.

Sarza found her tongue, saying, "That's him."

She tried another step forward, but whooziness stopped her. Resisting the urge to clap her hand to her forehead, Sarza stood still, willing herself to keep her gaze locked on him.

"It will pass," The Hunter assured. He moved around the workstation with the latent power of a big cat species. "The temporary affect of the specialized beam," he explained.

In what appeared to be a gesture of good faith, he handed Herman to her.  Sarza clutched the AI close, and felt the slight throb of recognition. Even so, she kept her gaze targeted on The Hunter.

"Is the AI why you survived long enough for me to arrive?" he asked. His gaze hard as diamond-infused steel sought to see through her every atom. Yet, she noticed, the warmth of humaness flared within.

"One reason," she conceded. "Where are we headed? The Grays have to know you betrayed them."

Half a smile lightened his boldly formed features. "They figured that out several star months ago. I had the element of surprise on my side when my crew broke through the death ring.  However," The Hunter pivoted from her striding toward what Sarza recognized as a food station, "I have contingency plans. We're headed toward Earth."

"Earth! ... why? Every space bad ass and his scavenger mother is there."

"Not in Talbot's Peak. At least, not at the Pleasure Club. It's an underground fortress, and there's an ancient tunnel system that will conceal my ship."

Mentally rocked back on her heels, Sarza uttered, "I hope so ... Pleasure Club?"

~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Promo ~ RED LIONESS TAMED

A digital copy of the original art work by David Burton for the cover of RED LIONESS TAMED 

Red Lioness Tamed

Adventures of Sun Rocket, Book 1

A Shapeshifter Sci Fi Erotic Romance Novella

~ Starring ~

Sun Rocket Kahoqua of the Windgrass Clan

&

Captain Draxen Z of the Venture 
 
~~~

Lioness shifter lost in space with a loner captain who will do anything to keep her, even seduction by leather.

~~~~~~

BLURB ~

What does a lioness shifter do when she's suddenly trapped in an unknown space cruiser's cargo hold? Then, despite her ability to savagely defend herself, she's trapped beneath the swashbuckling but human Captain.

And next, cat-scratching ridiculously, she finds herself carnal-trapped, and meow yowl! bound by leather straps in his bed?

Answer: She fights tooth and claw.
Problem: The loner Captain is nova-hot at seducing her.
~~~

Shapeshifter lovers, if yer partial to a futuristic adventurous romp of lust and love on the high celestial seas of space...if you have a yen for those cat shifter types, lament no longer.

And watch out if yer a bad kitty shifter roaming and plundering the galactic ports, and the outpost cities, there’s a kick-ass Red Lioness on your fleeing furry tail.

It's the year 3051 on Terra-Mars, the homeworld of 'Sun Rocket' Kahoqua of the Windgrass Clan. Orbiting the planet, Mars, Terra-Mars is a terra-formed moon from a thousand years past.
~~~

Warning: Contains capture and bondage by a swashbuckling space captain who has a yen for sex with his partially shifted red lioness woman. [see cover art depiction]

~~~~~~ 

Chapter One:
Sun Rocket and Draxen

Year 3051, according to the relic Earth calendar preserved on Terra-Mars
"Frax! My brain feels like it’s been spun out of cobwebs." Sun Rocket squeezed her eyelids open and shut several times. Anything to clear her head.

Aware she lay on a hard metallic surface, Sun Rocket slightly altered her position. After blowing out a large breath, she attempted to open her eyes.

"Frax it to the sun! More cobwebs," she angrily complained.

Pressing her hand over her eyes, Sun Rocket sniffed carefully. Sterile, her surroundings, except for harmless micro dust – except for her – about half a day away from a bath or a good tongue licking.

Experimentally she shoved with her foot. Half her usual body weight. She was probably inside some cargo hold, orbiting or...

Cargo hold. What the–? Sun Rocket shot up to a sitting position. Her head spun at some undefined warp speed.

Blinking rapidly, she forced one eye to remain open. Ubiquitous gray cargo containers were randomly stacked around her. "How the friggin' frax...?"

She fought to stand upright, assisted by the lessened gravity, and crashed into a tall stack of empty containers. Stumbling into more containers, she kicked at them, managing to knock them out of her way while her head whirled like a new-forming galaxy.

"Not like there's going to be a port window in here," she muttered derisively. Both eyes open now, Sun Rocket watched the wall circle before her impaired vision as if a dimensional portal opened.

Steadier and steadier on her feet, her brain cobwebs clearing, Sun Rocket automatically reached for her left-flank phase pistol.

Gone!

"Dang the villain!...of course," she reminded herself a split second later. All her weapons would have been stripped during beam transport into the space craft's hold.

But, whose cargo hold?

Frustrated, wild, Sun Rocket lashed out at the nearest containers. Her combat-trained kicks scattered them, semi-floating the giant cubes away from her.

Spying a dark, glass-looking monitor at the top of the hold, she flung the nearest containers beneath it. Rapidly, Sun Rocket threw the airtight cubes together building a tower.

Heedless of the consequences, she leapt up the huge makeshift steps. Sun Rocket pressed her palms against the wall, and stood on tiptoe. Leaning forward, she tried to examine the reddish convex monitor, still inches above her head – not a type she'd seen before.

"Get down from there!" a highly irritated male voice commanded in third galactic vernacular.

Wobbling precariously, Sun Rocket knelt on one knee. "Not like I can't land on my feet like a cat," she murmured, amused.

Gazing down toward the voice's origin, she saw the fierce male's flowing locks – well past his shoulders. For a nano-instant, the dark red and amber coloring transfixed her, pleased her.

With his fists planted on his lean hips, the humanoid male glared at her as if she dared interrupt him during his favorite meal. From her vantage point, he looked a holoromance buccaneer – a fricken fine one.

Sleekly built, he reminded her of a racing cheetah from her homeworld – yet compared favorably to one of the holoprogram's beautifully muscled heroes.

Even his garments – a style unknown to Sun Rocket in her far-flung galactic travels tracking down, capturing, or if necessary, eliminating cat shapeshifters who had gone bad – well purrs, by her discriminating eye the attractive clothing was reminiscent of ancient Earth's movie-star swashbucklers.

"Who are you?" she called down to him, then rested on her haunches. It was her good-luck moon, she remained in human form. Not every galactic race 'appreciated' feline shapeshifters. To put it tuna-fish mildly.

"This is my vessel. Get down now!"

Frax, Sun Rocket was surprised smoke didn't billow forth from his ears and his mouth. If he'd been a dragon shifter she'd likely be coughing out lungfuls of nasty smoke.

"You failed to answer my question," she flung down to him, even as she tensed to do battle.

Ominously he placed his finger on his belt. He pressed, eliminating the weak gravity field. Her tower of containers floated, as she now floated, helpless.

The next moment Sun Rocket felt the pull of gravity, and she plummeted downward. Forcing herself not to shift, and land on her four cat paws, Sun Rocket twisted to land in a roll.

****

Enemy or not, Draxen admired the sleek power and the beautiful round curves of the woman preparing to land. If she had been in trouble, he would have caught her, captured her, then discovered who she was – and how she'd gotten in the way of his vessel's transport beam, whether intentionally or not.

Her unusual female fragrance, a blend of fiery heat and earthy musk, caused his blood to simmer with lust. His cock jerked to life, and as he watched her mane of flaming red hair fly out behind her, his pants tightened uncomfortably.

Gods, his carnal appetite had always been for redheaded women. Special delivery from fate? he asked, as she athletically landed, and rolled.

Draxen launched himself above her, wanting immediate control of her. He also wanted to know how sex-delicious she felt against him.

The woman yielded to his capture, even as he felt the ready-to-spring strength of her muscles. Draxen trapped her hands beneath his, and pouncing like a primitive, he partially covered her curvaceous body.

Her desire to fight him hummed through Draxen, yet she regarded him, cool as ice. Her eyes, stunning in their beauty, held no fear – the sparks of defiance kept veiled, hidden beneath the aqua shimmer of her steady gaze.

Draxen yielded to his own desire, studying her features – exotic high cheek bones, the strong face of a woman warrior, a naturally stubborn jaw.

In equal balance her face was sensually created, her lips full, luscious – her skin ivory, tinted with gold. He could have kissed the upturned tip of her adorable nose. Instead he stared at her tantalizing mouth.

"You could introduce yourself. Now that you have me at your mercy." Her tone offered no challenge, yet brooked no nonsense from him.

"Your body begs to be with a man, intruder. Do you belong to any man now?"

Either his Creator smiled upon him, or guffawed over His trickery. Draxen wasn't certain which, given he sailed the galactic sea toward Uresch in search of a suitable woman. One who could fool his family and the bevy of women they would sunrise-surely have lined up for him.

"What a charming compliment. How am I to answer without a proper introduction?"

She mocked him, her tone subtle. As the silence stretched between them, her gaze wavered not one micro-bit, demanding his respect.

"You are aboard my vessel without invitation or authorization. I require your title, your name." Draxen spoke officially, sternly, when all he wanted was to taste how sumptuous her lips really were...then...

"Why should I trust such knowledge to you? When I don't know where I am. Or how I precisely ended up here." Defiance flashed her eyes, then fierceness took over.

"What do you remember?" Draxen decided another course was needed if he was to gain answers – if he was to gain what his cock now begged for.

Fates be kind, her silky green-golden bodysuit clung to every curve and was so thin...

Draxen refocused on her face. The transport beam must have scrambled her most recent memories because she closed her eyes to recall.

"Spurnia," she murmured, "the coast city of Brill...I was walking along the dock...going to meet a friend..." She halted, concentrating, frowning.

"We ate a small meal together at an outdoor fishery...oh, I remember. She wanted help locating her brother. He's on a pleasure cruise, the Xroj quadrant. They hadn't heard from him as he'd promised...and I have connections...I know I was walking back, another route...I like to watch the spaceships glide overhead, and land at the intergalactic port."

Draxen watched her pause, attempt to focus – to catch any glimpse of what came next in her mind.

"I docked at the intergalactic port," he offered. "Minor repairs. Supplies...spoke with an acquaintance over space brews." Never mind the acquaintance had handed over the latest defense device on the black market – for a hefty price, paid for in Jerobb healing tea.

"There's no cargo in here. What did you transport on board?" She eyed him with some suspicion.

"My sister's wedding gift. One of them. A premium saddle for her racing llama."

"Oh..." she burst out, obviously realizing what must have occurred. "Oh no...I stopped at a pen of tiger-horses...to pet them. They were near the tack market...where you beamed up your saddle. Oh noooo," she moaned.

"Wrong place, wrong time," Draxen uttered, even as he wondered if it 'really' was the wrong place at the wrong time.

Or had fate played its hand? Intervened for him, his own special delivery.

"Return me," she announced, as if all he had to do was make a quick U-turn, drop her off, then head on his way.

"That was two ports ago. I can't spare the time."

She blinked. "How long have I been in here?" Alarm and anger rang inside her voice.

"Two and a half days' flight time for me."

Irate, she stared at him, her eyes burning aqua jewels. "You can't keep me here."

"No. My cargo hold could be destroyed. How about enjoying the favors of my bed?"

She wanted to claw his eyes out. He witnessed it in the blazing depths of her eyes. Her hands clenched beneath his, strong for their smallish size.

"Leave me at the next port," she suggested evenly.

"At Uresch?" He raised his brows, waited.

Widening her eyes, she pumped several breaths in and out. "No, thank you." Draxen felt her pulse race with fear before she spoke again. "I have no desire to be enslaved to a male's ludicrous rutting whims."

"Virgin?" he inquired, knowing it was unlikely – yet she wasn't a female panting after any suitable male. That was star-point clear.

"Because I refuse sex enslavement," she glared furiously, "you consider me a possible virgin?"

"I consider you perfect for my rutting loins."

"Quite obvious!" Her gaze was leaping fire. "Given the intruding size of your shaft."

She pushed her hands against his, protesting. In a bid for freedom she twisted beneath him. When he kept her pinned, she tested his strength for several moments.

"Get off!" she warned, her eyes absolutely beautiful in their savagery.

Trusting his luck to fate, why not? With his curiosity as aroused as his cock, Draxen didn't 'get off' her.

She exploded beneath him, writhing so swiftly, so powerfully, she escaped his hold. Rolling, she gained her feet in one lithe move.

He sprang up, and they faced each other.

Braced for battle, her eyes gleaming like a warrioress, she demanded, "Leave me at the port after Uresch."

"I can't, lovely one. My sister's wedding waits for no one."

She didn't bother with speech. She launched an attack, not to harm him...at first. With expert jabbing punches, she measured his ability to counter her moves.

Quickly their contest escalated. Their hands and feet flew, slapping hard against each other. Thuds of flesh and bone – their elevated breathing – were the only sounds as they fought, as they searched for each other's combat weakness.

The "lovely one" only gave way before his power moves – merely spinning away, then trapping him with her superior agility.

On and on, they challenged each other, as if they battled in a Nikrib contest arena. The instant his smashing blows nearly gained him possession of her, she whipped away, and sprang on top of a container.

From that height, she drove her heel into his jaw. Draxen reeled for a moment. He'd been too slow in avoiding her next blow.

Hold the sweet galactic stars!

The flame-haired beauty proved to be a far more experienced fighter than he'd first thought. She'd been around the galaxy, obvious as asteroids to him now.

She knew exactly how to fight the likes of him. Further, from all indications, she was not desirous of his bed favors.

Soon to be changed, he decided.

Draxen figured his optimal tactic would be fighting her to exhaustion. Fortunately, he flew through a relatively benign area on his space route. And owned the time.

Balancing on the balls of his feet, Draxen followed her feline-agile leaps as she positioned herself. He charged, prepared to capture the woman who had his balls tied in a hellish knot. 

~~~~~~ 

Copyright 2013 Savanna Kougar
All rights reserved
Originally published by Liquid Silver Books, 2008

Cover Artist: David Burton
The original painting by artist, David Burton, is owned by Savanna Kougar

~~~

Originally Published 2008
Original Editor, Jean Cooper
This book has been revised by the author, Savanna Kougar.
Reissued by Purple Silk Books, 2013

~~~  

29,685 word novella, total words: 34,480 appr. 

 

Includes an action flash scene, The Capture of BusterBalls

and a long interview with Sun Rocket Kahoqua 

~~~ 

 

 

~~~ Sun Rocket and Captain Draxen Z invite you to read their love story ~~~
RED LIONESS TAMED ~ Lioness shifter lost in space with a loner captain who will do anything to keep her, even seduction by leather ~ *5 Flowers* from Book Cravers 

Available at SMASHWORDS, AMAZON, and ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS.

Out of control crazy... and Red Lioness...

Art Pic ~ RED-LIONESS by Thierry Bisch

Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. 
 
Autumn is in the air on my tame prairie, despite all the strange and discombobulated weather. Blessings to All in Colorado. My heart goes out to those going through these terrible times, to those in need.

Okay then, my day has been out of control crazy in certain ways... so! once I could take a deep breath, and settle down to write, I decided to continue revising RED LIONESS TAMED, my sci fi erotic romance. And, yep, I'm nearing the end.

Thus, for your reading pleasure... hopefully...

~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-one:
"My Brave Beautiful Lioness."

Kahoqua yawned, fatigue hitting her like a head butt from a Joawwa, a race of ram humanoids. As lioness she needed to restore herself by dozing.

There was no way, given the severe pain of her wound. She twisted restlessly trying to ease the increasing ache.

"Kahoqua," she heard Draxen softly call. Fastening her gaze on him, she wondered if he did fear her as lioness.

"Cub," he encouraged, lowering himself to his haunches. "You're hurt. Let me take care of you."

Her heart heard him. His expression told her how much he cared for her.

Before she could stop herself, Kahoqua rose to her feet. As she padded the short distance toward Draxen, a new sweet emotion for him soared inside her.

Bast help! What was she going to do?

He wanted a pretend wife. Even if his heart reached for hers, the fate-odds were against their pairing.

She was shapeshifter. He was human.

Given their homeworlds...no star-doubt their cultures were light years apart in crucial ways--ways that could destroy their mating harmony.

"Kahoqua," Draxen praised, the timbre of his voice reassuring. He cupped her head between his large hands. "My brave beautiful lioness."

She let her head rest in his cradling palms and they gazed at one another. No fear of her dulled the bronze flames in the depths of his midnight eyes.

He stroked one hand over her short  female mane, common in her breed of lioness. "Let's see your wound." His tone cherished her.

Kahoqua raised her head, moved back a step, then turned so he could view her shoulder. Like a tame pussycat she laid down eyeing the wand-like device he removed from his belt's holster.

"Oscillator healing," he explained, placing the instrument above her wound. "This shouldn't take long, my lovely lioness one."

Draxen caressed the top of her head as soothing warmth replaced her raw pain. Kahoqua felt her flesh begin to knit together, recognizing the sensation from previous injuries.

"Captain, Lorimus is contacting," Mesitor reported, his voice no longer crackly. "They received our automated distress signal."

"Explain we were under attack. Request additional time for more extensive repairs." 

"Yes, Captain."

"Nearly healed, cub." Draxen continued patting her head, his touch comforting, tender.

Mesitor returned in short order. "Lorimus requests direct contact with you, Captain. I could not persuade them otherwise."

When Draxen hesitated, Kahoqua licked his bare forearm once to let him know she was fine--that he should go. His glance at her spoke a galaxy's worth.

His feelings for her were so naked, Kahoqua had to question if he realized it. What it did to her insides--well rawrrr. Steamy desire collided with the softer desires of her heart.

Could they defy fate if she yielded?

Bast, wait! she cautioned herself. Men could be notoriously fickle. First one woman, then another would tempt their meat swords.

Meat sword. Kahoqua mentally rolled her eyes recalling how she and her girlfriends had laughed until their sides ached. They'd been at a dance club, watching a group of off-world males strut, their pelvises thrust forward--their super-enhanced penises pointing the way.

Kahoqua sought Draxen's gaze again. But he concentrated on attending to her, his handsome features still as stone. 

Did he know his own heart?

"Inform the station Coordinator I'm on the way," he commanded Mesitor.

"Yes, Captain."

Draxen finished healing her wound, then leaped to his feet. Kahoqua watched his quick long strides eat up the distance to his control panel.

****

Draxen entered his code quick as a star's blink, knowing Lorimus needed verification he was still in control of his vessel.

"Captain Draxen Z of the Venture," a man's voice officially greeted. "This is Coordinator Reimug. What happened out your way?"

"Neehaz boarding attack. Interested in the evidence?" Draxen watched the man's green-tinted complexion pale.

"Neehaz...shades of an old nightmare. Once your evidence is reviewed, I'll spread the intergalactic word on unrestricted channels. Agreed?"

Draxen gave a nod, well aware the warning would bypass the sector-regulated channels.

"What can you tell me now, Captain?" Greed and fear coexisted in the Coordinator's gaze.

"There are improvement in their short-beam. Had no defense against the boarding portal. Good news is I got the specs."

"Specs are worth a fair price, Captain, if you want to talk."

"I'll talk. But I want rights to the defense capability."

"Unofficial version is yours, Captain. Will that suffice?"

"Prefer it." Draxen liked dealing straight up, and he'd negotiated with Reimug in the past without a problem.

"My apology, Captain. I couldn't halt Sector Patrol. They grabbed your distress signal, and are on intercept."

"Appreciate the heads-up, Coordinator. No cargo onboard. Should be no delay."

"Your repair bay is ready, Captain. How else may we serve you?"

"As much privacy as you can arrange, Coordinator. Your usual courtesy at Lorimus." 

"Good space winds, Captain."

Draxen spun, apprehension brutally searing through him. His beautiful red lioness appeared to be resting, her repose regal.

How did he convince her to stay with him?

Sector Patrol was bad news. They would assume investigative boarding rights. His Sun Rocket Kahoqua could simply leave with them, leave him.

Had fate done a one-eighty pivot on him? Kicked him squarely in the jaw?

"Captain, I have prepared for Sector Patrol," Mesitor reported.

"All clear for inspection," Renna chimed in.

"Thanks." Draxen tossed in their direction. He lowered himself beside his red lioness, his lioness woman, his beautiful woman.

Draxen stroked over her back, enchanted with the feel of her coat, with her sleek feline shape. He sought the words to speak.

His life would be unbearable without her. He already knew he'd go to the ends of the galaxy to find her again, convince her to be his wife.

"Kahoqua, can you shift? Do I need to care for you in way I haven't learned?"

She lifted her head, blinked her eyes open lazily. Draxen witnessed the weariness in their aqua-faceted depths. In gorgeous contrast to her rich red fur, her eyes were outlined by kohl black skin.

He stared, lost in her intense feline gaze. Uncertain about how the lioness truly regarded him, he asked again, "Can you shift, Kahoqua?" 

She'd fought savagely, a beast protecting herself from mortal enemies. Yet his red lioness had also fought in concert with him. That had to be a nova-good sign.

"I will bring water and a restoring potion," Renna piped up.

Draxen heard the slight whir as she floated off to accomplish her droid mission. 

"Can you morph to human?" Draxen tried asking.

His lioness shook her head, a 'no' as he interrupted it. "You can't shift yet. Right, my beauty?"

She softly rumbled what sounded like a 'yes', then dropped her head, clearly resting. Draxen continued running his hand along the length of her back. He wondered how to tame his red lioness.

~~~~~~

 
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side… 

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance