Alien General's Baby (Scifi Alien Romance) (Zoran Warriors Book 1) by Luna Hunter Page A
Authors: Luna Hunter
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need to settle on a dress.
“What about this one?” I hold out something a little conservative: a drab, gray dress that would attract zero attention. Kelly instantly wrinkles her nose at me.
“What are you, eighty?” Kelly says. “The invitation clearly says black-tie, honey. The black dress it is!”
I sigh deeply. “Do I have to? I don’t think I’ve ever worn heels.”
“Then start practicing,” Kelly says. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. You get to witness history! I’d love to meet a Zoran General. I’ve heard they’re absolutely dreamy…”
“I’ve heard they drink the blood of their enemies,” I throw back at her, “so excuse me for not being too happy about it!”
“Ooh, primal,” Kelly laughs. “Me likey.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You know it. Now get in that dress!”
I yield to her demands and shimmy my way into the black garment. I smooth it with my hands as I look at myself in the mirror, and I have to admit it looks good on me. And that is not something I admit lightly. The midnight black fabric accentuates my chestnut brown eyes and autumn leaf colored hair, and it hugs my curves in all the right places. In fact I don’t think a dress has ever fit me better.
“See,” Kelly says as she stands next to me, completing my look with a golden necklace. “You look stunning. Ready to snatch yourself a Senator… or perhaps a Zoran general?” She teases.
I shiver at the thought. From a scientific point of view, we can learn so much from the Zoran, but that is not what Kelly is hinting at.
She wants me to acquaint myself with their physiology.
Intimately.
I laugh it off, but thoughts fill my head. She’s planted a seed of curiosity in my mind with all this talk, and now it’s going to be tough to shake the thought.
2
Vinz
I effortlessly glide my warship , class-A cruiser T he Pathfinder , through human space and start up the docking procedure. My ship, one of the smallest and most agile in our fleet, is still several times the size of their paltry space station, the pinnacle of human development.
This is what we are here to do: Waste our time with this lesser species.
I command all troops in the Western Quadrant, and I could delegate this task to any of the hundreds of elite forces under my command, but I enjoy being at the helm, right in the thick of the action.
Unfortunately, there will be no action on this dreadful diplomatic mission. I run my hand over my smooth scalp, mentally preparing myself for the bullshit politics to come.
“Take the helm, Koryn,” I tell the soldier at my side. “Prepare for immediate evacuation if I give you the signal. I don’t know enough about these humans to trust them yet.”
“Yes sir,” he answers, taking my place behind the multitude of screens.
The large black doors of the elevator whiz open as I approach, automatically reacting to my DNA. Waiting for me inside is the man I loathe the most in the entire known universe: Senator Dimtri.
“General,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain. “Not opting for the proper garment, I see?”
His yellow garment clashes with his lizard-like light-green skin, painting an especially unpalatable picture. I refuse to endorse such trivialities as ceremonial garb, opting for my all-black military uniform, the obsidian armor a tight fit, providing me with maximum flexibility.
It’s all the High Command seems to care about nowadays. They’re preoccupied with ceremonial garbs and having gluttonous feasts, while our sworn enemies raid our borders unpunished.
This mission only proves my point. My fleet should be in the Eastern Quadrant, supporting General Tyr in his fight against the insectoid, infernal Ygg. We went through training together, and there’s no place I’d rather be than at his side, riding into battle together. Instead, I am forced to escort Senator Dimtri because the High Command has developed a taste for one of their sickly sweet treats called chocolate
“What about this one?” I hold out something a little conservative: a drab, gray dress that would attract zero attention. Kelly instantly wrinkles her nose at me.
“What are you, eighty?” Kelly says. “The invitation clearly says black-tie, honey. The black dress it is!”
I sigh deeply. “Do I have to? I don’t think I’ve ever worn heels.”
“Then start practicing,” Kelly says. “I don’t see why you’re complaining. You get to witness history! I’d love to meet a Zoran General. I’ve heard they’re absolutely dreamy…”
“I’ve heard they drink the blood of their enemies,” I throw back at her, “so excuse me for not being too happy about it!”
“Ooh, primal,” Kelly laughs. “Me likey.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You know it. Now get in that dress!”
I yield to her demands and shimmy my way into the black garment. I smooth it with my hands as I look at myself in the mirror, and I have to admit it looks good on me. And that is not something I admit lightly. The midnight black fabric accentuates my chestnut brown eyes and autumn leaf colored hair, and it hugs my curves in all the right places. In fact I don’t think a dress has ever fit me better.
“See,” Kelly says as she stands next to me, completing my look with a golden necklace. “You look stunning. Ready to snatch yourself a Senator… or perhaps a Zoran general?” She teases.
I shiver at the thought. From a scientific point of view, we can learn so much from the Zoran, but that is not what Kelly is hinting at.
She wants me to acquaint myself with their physiology.
Intimately.
I laugh it off, but thoughts fill my head. She’s planted a seed of curiosity in my mind with all this talk, and now it’s going to be tough to shake the thought.
2
Vinz
I effortlessly glide my warship , class-A cruiser T he Pathfinder , through human space and start up the docking procedure. My ship, one of the smallest and most agile in our fleet, is still several times the size of their paltry space station, the pinnacle of human development.
This is what we are here to do: Waste our time with this lesser species.
I command all troops in the Western Quadrant, and I could delegate this task to any of the hundreds of elite forces under my command, but I enjoy being at the helm, right in the thick of the action.
Unfortunately, there will be no action on this dreadful diplomatic mission. I run my hand over my smooth scalp, mentally preparing myself for the bullshit politics to come.
“Take the helm, Koryn,” I tell the soldier at my side. “Prepare for immediate evacuation if I give you the signal. I don’t know enough about these humans to trust them yet.”
“Yes sir,” he answers, taking my place behind the multitude of screens.
The large black doors of the elevator whiz open as I approach, automatically reacting to my DNA. Waiting for me inside is the man I loathe the most in the entire known universe: Senator Dimtri.
“General,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain. “Not opting for the proper garment, I see?”
His yellow garment clashes with his lizard-like light-green skin, painting an especially unpalatable picture. I refuse to endorse such trivialities as ceremonial garb, opting for my all-black military uniform, the obsidian armor a tight fit, providing me with maximum flexibility.
It’s all the High Command seems to care about nowadays. They’re preoccupied with ceremonial garbs and having gluttonous feasts, while our sworn enemies raid our borders unpunished.
This mission only proves my point. My fleet should be in the Eastern Quadrant, supporting General Tyr in his fight against the insectoid, infernal Ygg. We went through training together, and there’s no place I’d rather be than at his side, riding into battle together. Instead, I am forced to escort Senator Dimtri because the High Command has developed a taste for one of their sickly sweet treats called chocolate
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