Writing Blog! With ALL my Writing on it!

Link to My Main Ao3 Account

Link to my Vore Psued on Ao3

[Placeholder Text]

G/t will be tagged with #G/t Writing

Vore will be tagged with #Vore Writing

If you're looking for a certain OC, it will be tagged #OC: [Name]

Certain fandoms will be tagged as #[Fandom] G/t or #[Fandom] Vore

By all means, Warren shouldn't be enjoying himself, but he was, somehow. He guessed that when you were known as the tiny that is guarded so fiercely by so many proto-frames, nobody would both him. Knowing that he was safe made it possible for Warren to enjoy his spot perched on the bar top . A glass bucket full of a sweet red wine- a shot glass to the humans- and delightfully salty snacks and all he had to do for a piece of warm food was walk up to either Quincy or Arthur or Minerva or Velimir and just ask, maybe he would beg with his eyes and posture, but they were quite forthcoming with food. Everyone else was occupied with their drinks and their food and company that nobody really paid Warren any attention, he could happily sit and watch and listen to all these giant humans go about their business enjoying drink and each other without even being disturbed.

Well, only the big, partially metal-skinned proto-frames would give Warren attention from time to time. Occasionally, they would give Warren soft nudges or little pats when Warren went to go pick off their food. Arthur or Quincy would give a lingering touch to his hair or back or chest, and Quincy did once dip his head down for a quick kiss, but mostly Warren's been allowed to just people watch.

"Need a top up, little buddy?"

"Hmn?" Warren lifted his gaze, realized he was trying to look up at someone behind him, and had to shift around on his little bar stool made out of a discarded champagne cork. Velimir was talking to him. The man was another proto-frame, and Warren wasn't sure what kind of the Drifter's 'warframes' that he had been turned into, but he knew that the huge man had ice powers. And he was a huge guy, too. Taller than Quincy, and he had a hefty gut and bulging muscles and giant hands that had one cupped around Warren's back now, giving the small man something to lean on.

"I think I got my answer, since you're just looking at me with that cute little face of yours." Velimir softly cooed as he let his thumb fall a little to brush against Warren's flushed cheek. "Light weight is an understatement for you, my friend. You're more of a feather weight, maybe a fly weight. You're just having water for the rest of the night."

"O-oh! My drink." Warren hefted the glass up in his arms, trying to not splash any of the dark red liquid out onto his clothes. It was mostly empty, but there was still a good bit of wine left inside. "'M good. Promise."

"How about I finish that off for you and get you some cold water? I'd hate for you to be sick all over one of your boyfriend's hand later."

"No, no, I'll finish it." Warren hugged the glass to his chest. It was so hard to get your hands on alcohol as a tiny, and he wasn't about to give up his first real chance for some good stuff. He wouldn't let it go just yet. "Could I still get some water?"

"Sure thing, little buddy." Velimir gently tapped Warren on the top of his head and pulled his hands back, probably either getting water or handling another bar patron.

Warren let his eyes wander around the bar as he continued to sip on his glass of wine. It was so interesting to be able to watch these humans from so close without being afraid. He's really felt like he's changed since he initially became caught by these humans, becoming brave in the company of humans, falling in love with two of them. And so much of their base has changed around them since then as well, with more humans showing up, more proto-frames appearing, and even other tinies have made their home in this mall, deep in ruined Höllvania. It felt like there was a chance for thing to bounce back if the tech rot could ever be properly eradicated.

That would be the day. That would be the beautiful, glorious day. The secret about tinies were out, but maybe with the proto-frames by their sides, they could live among humans instead of in fear of them.

Across the bar, a glass hit the ground and shattered. For a moment, things were normal, and then raised voices came booming across the bar. Warren saw heads turn and Velimir swiftly walked away from the bar. Voices got louder, angrier, and both Quincy and Arthur were on their feet and walking towards the scuffle that was getting progressively louder. The humans were fighting now. Humans that had not been involved in the initial fight were now being dragged in one way or another. Another glass was smashed on the ground and Warren could see raised fists. The air was full of thunderous yells and promises of pain.

People watching was over, it was time for Warren to leave. When humans got to fighting like this, borrowers needed to not be around. He'd be killed too quickly and too easily if the fight drifted in his direction.

Warren tipped his glass up, taking many deep gulps before he had to abandon his wine and the glass it was in.

As he tried to stand, the decision to drink what was comparatively a whole bucket of wine slammed into him at once. His head did not feel like it was where it should be, instead floating somewhere over his shoulder and to the left, slightly above him, his feet would barely lift, his arms had to be occupied with keeping him balanced and upright, and his knees folded beneath him. Warren had to coordinate his movements, one limb at a time, to try and crawl away from the fight on his hands and knees. The bar felt like it was at the wrong angle, and the humans were getting closer.

Sol… humans were so loud when they were angry. One had another by the hair, Arthur had his arms around someone's waist and was dragging them, Quincy had two guys by the shirts, and the silverware was all floating around. Was Aoi here too?

A shadow passed overhead and Warren's body reacted before he could even think to look up and see what was casting the shadow. If he had looked, he would have seen someone had thrown some book and it was going to sail harmlessly over where Warren had been crawling and land on the other side of the bar, but he did not look. Instead, his body had decided on an instinctual level that someone was going to squash him and instead simply threw Warren's entire body over the edge of the bar.

His hand grasped for a hook that was not there. He tried to grasp a rope that was not there.

As Warren's weight did not catch on a grip on a rope, as he realized there was no secured hook, as he realized his hands and belt were completely empty, Warren feel straight down.

He hadn't even realized where he was going to be landing until pain shot across his entire body, followed very swiftly by freezing cold. Instead of turning into a stain on the floor mats, he'd landed in the ice bin. It was a huge, plastic tub that Velimir kept all the ice for the drinks, and now it was where Warren was most likely going to die.

All of the warm, pleasant, smothering blanket of alcohol around his head was violently ripped away, only left with the stinging pain of cold in every inch of his minuscule body. Gasping hurt, the ice-cold air stinging his lungs, scraping across his lips and throat. Everything inside of the small man was screaming in agony, and he couldn't even try to crawl to the sides of the bin. He just couldn't move.

An eternity must have passed by the time Warren had managed to regain enough control of his limbs to try and bring them back to his chest. Just that little movement made Warren slide, he hadn't realized his legs had been braced against another ice cube until he fell down between them. His hands were already numb as he tried to get a good look around. Ice warped the light, blurred his surroundings, but he could see straight up. The soft, yellow warmth of the bar's lights weren't going to reach Warren here, but they could bring him a slight comfort as the uncontrollable shaking began.

The world trembled, and a shadow fell over the ice bin. Warren flinched down into himself, but had to see if someone was there.

Silver hair, massive frame, booming voice, layered clothes. Velimir. It was Velimir!

"Ve-e-elimi-ir!" Warren had to struggle to not bite his tongue with the shaking. "H-h-help me-e-e!"

~

"Damn kids." Velimir growled as he looked at the broken bottles on the back wall. "New rule, everyone's gotta be over twenty to drink in this bar. I don't care the laws are different, I don't need teenagers getting so shit faced they start throwing shit."

Well, the bar was definitely closed now. And next time it opens up, it'll have a hard drink limit per customer. That book took out almost every bottle of whiskey he'd smuggled in, and the gin!

"Damn it! How am I supposed to make gin-lets now?"

He went to grab the garbage can from the end of the bar, but as he went to step away, he heard a squeak. Heart in his throat, Velimir danced back from where he'd just put his foot down, praying that he hadn't just stepped on one of Lettie's mice.

Nothing.

"Whew." Velimir's eyes swept the floor just in case. Mostly just spilled whiskey and broken glass. As he tried to return to grabbing stuff to clean up, he heard the squeak again. And it was a lot more clear that it wasn't a squeak. It was a itty bitty cry for help.

Warren!

Velimir checked where he'd last seen the little guy, and his little cork and wire bar stool was on its side and the shot glass of wine was tipped over. He was nowhere to be found. Oh, crap. Velimir hadn't seen Warren at all in the scuffle, and he was so tiny, he could be hiding anywhere. Quincy and Arthur were going to be so mad if something had happened to Warren when he'd been the one who'd seen him last.

"C'mon, little buddy, call out." Velimir ducked down to check around the lower shelves of the bar, listening hard.

An ever softer, stuttered cry for help sounded. It wasn't on the floor, or the bar top, but it was…. the ice bucket!

Velimir practically lunged for the ice bucket and peeked inside. It wasn't that far from where Warren had been sitting, but far enough and dangerous enough for someone so tiny it hadn't occurred for him to even look there until he heard the yelling.

Sure enough, wedged between a couple of ice cubes and shaking worse than a tree in a tornado, was Warren. Velimir quickly fished the little guy out and carried him out of view of the others. There was a bright red stain on his pants leg, and as he looked at it, thank Sol and Lua, it was wine and not blood.

"Are you okay? How'd you get in the ice bucket?" Velimir rubbed the pad of his index fingers over Warren's legs, checking for any signs of pain. "Did someone drop you in there? Pushed? Fell? Are you hurt? C'mon, little buddy, you gotta say something."

"S-so co-old." Warren was still quivering, curled up now in Velimir's palm, trying to push his fingers away. "F-f-f-fell. Cold."

Right. His hands were like ice these days. Stupid powers. He had to get Warren warm, right now, he was so tiny, he was probably already sapped of all his heat and here Velimir was, making it worse! Making everything worse, like he always does-

Velimir shook his head violently. He could still help Warren. His hands might be ice, but his insides were still nice and warm.

Lettie had told him that, in addition to the occasional summoning across time and space, being piloted by beings from outside of time itself, the additional powers, the crazy healing factor and all that jazz, that being a proto-frame like this had rearranged his guts and given him a weird little pouch in his belly that could hold onto small items safe and sound. Connected somehow to his lungs and his energy and all that. But long story short, it was a 98 degree room that he could get Warren to in seconds.

"I'll get you warm, little guy. Just hang on. I got you."

Slipping Warren into his mouth felt… oddly natural. And Warren didn't fuss either. As soon as he closed his jaws, he could feel how Warren was shivering, but actually he seemed to push himself into Velimir's tongue. It took a little jerk of his head back to slip Warren into his throat, and soon, the poor little guy was gone. Just a lingering cold feeling in his throat that was already warming back up. Somehow swallowing an entire little guy had been easier and more natural than dry swallowing pain meds. Just one little gulp and Warren was all tucked away.

Velimir laid a hand on his belly. "You good in there?"

It took an agonizingly long time to get a response out of Warren. But he was cuddled up to Velimir's gut wall and finally managed to speak in a way that wasn't stuttering and shivering. "I'm okay….. 'S warm in here."

"You just snuggle down and get comfy. I'll keep you warm."

"Okay… thank you… for saving me."

Sol, Warren was cute. No wonder Quincy and Arthur both had a claim on him. They'd probably wanna find Warren soon, so Velimir needed to get moving and get all this glass cleaned up. Once it was all up, he'd probably take Warren to Lettie to really make sure the poor guy was okay. Falling in an ice bin when you weren't even four inches tall, he was lucky to be alive.

As Velimir tried to get his mind back on the task at hand, he couldn't keep his hands off his belly. He could feel Warren being alive inside of his stomach. Well, not stomach, but he didn't know what else to call it. He was safe, and warming up nicely, and part of him never wanted to let the little guy back out. He couldn't get in trouble like that again when he's all safe and sound inside of you, after all.

Not that he particularly cared at the moment about the alien egg that may or may not be forming in his chest. By all means, he should be concerned for his own safety. After all, he could be dying soon if she had implanted something down his throat while her mouth had been pressed to his, or his mouth pressed against other parts of her body, but it was so hard to be concerned about it. Between the pheromones clouding his mind and the way she used her strength, the casual manner she had grabbed and manipulated him all around, it made it really hard to think or care about anything at the moment. Her skin was so warm under his touch, and she would just pull on his arms or grab him around his waist or pull on his clothing to just put him right where she wanted him to be. 

At the moment, she was using some entrapment technique on him, his head pressed between her thighs, and it made him feel like he was a million miles from here. The heat, the smells, a heavy perfume that fogged his mind so heavily she could start squeezing him, fully intent to crush his skull, and he wouldn’t care. Couldn’t care. He’d never truly felt this good before. 

Marion couldn’t help herself either. Something about him just lit her up with arousal, drove her wild. Maybe he is the one with pheromones that drove her crazy, and she should be the one being careful around him. 

She lifted her head to check on him and found him with his face still buried in the crotch of her bodysuit with his antennae, which had to be related to their sense of smell from her observation, gently tapping against her body. 

“Enjoying yourself, General?” She put an elbow under her to remain more upright. 

He only replied with a muffled grunt and his hand squeezing her thigh again. 

“Okay, you’re still having fun.” She laid back down and tried to figure out what she was going to do next here. Thankfully, he wasn’t being too distracting while she was trying to formulate a plan. She really needed a plan. So take stock of the situation first. 

While she’d been enjoying her time with the General, she’d gotten the keys to her cuffs and freed herself, so her hands were free already. She was still mostly dressed, and nobody seemed to want to dissect her, so that was something. She’d managed to establish that she came in peace… if you could call fucking the guy in charge of keeping her contained establishing nonhostile relations. The rover she was looking for was on this planet, but it had escaped somehow. She’d need to figure out how that happened, and find the damn thing. 

Maybe the General would help? He was looking to capture it again anyway.

She reached down and found his head, still buried between her legs, and tried to pull him up by his shirt, but it was still completely unbuttoned so it slipped right off him when she pulled. 

“General.” She sat fully up now, shifting a bit and tried to prop him up with her arms to get him sitting up in her lap. “Hey, Grawl, you good?” 

He blinked at Marion and mumbled something incoherent. His antennae were really droopy and his pupils were all blown out and he was kind of just limp and boneless in her arms. He halfheartedly grabbed her forearm and kinda lolled his head against her chest, mumbling softly.

Ah… he was not good. 

Maybe that weirdo was onto something about the pheromones. A little extraterrestrial sex and he was acting like he was drunk or something. Well this was certainly a compromising position to be in if that little freak came back and decided that she was mind controlling him. 

Marion had to gather him up in her arms and awkwardly carried him over to one of the lab tables. She tried to keep him sitting upright, but he kept trying to grab at her hands, so she let him flop over on the table. She glanced around, there were plenty of sinks she just needed a… ah, empty beaker would do. She filled it up with the cold water from the sink and dumped it over his head. “General, wake up!” 

Grawl yelped and seemed to snap to attention. His eyes were back to normal instead of extremely dilated, his antenna stiffened back up and that flap across his stomach where his genitals had retreated to a while ago seemed to close up tight. He glanced around the room with a terrified expression before his gaze settled on her. “Marion?” 

“Welcome back, General.” She giggled as he seemed to realize there was water dribbling down his face, trying in vain to wipe it away. She handed him one of the hand towels around the sink to dry himself off with. “So, how was doing it with an alien?” 

He blinked at her, looking down at himself, and then back up at her with wide eyes. “I can barely remember… am I going to die?” 

“I doubt it. I was real careful to not put anything down your throat you didn’t want. And also we don’t lay eggs in people.” A joke about toxic coochie was left unsaid because she didn’t want him getting any new ideas about how she could be dangerous. “I don’t know where your professor got that idea, but we aren’t parasitic egg layers like that. We give birth to our babies ourselves, like everyone else.” 

“Ah.” He set the hand towel down and began to put his shirt back on, buttoning it back up. “Was I… satisfactory?” 

“Yeah, you were really good.” She handed him his jacket back. “Satisfied a hell of a lot of my personal curiosities. And it means I can check getting some alien dick off of my bucket list.” 

“This can never leave this room. If this got out… I am already compromised. I should arrest myself- yes, I should arrest myself, my mind, my body-” 

“No, no you don’t have to arrest yourself.” Marion softly grabbed his hands to stop his fidgeting. “You’re not a zombie, and you’re not gonna die. We’ll just keep this a secret like normal adults, alright?” 

He paused, thinking heavily for a moment. He smoothed back his head tendrils and nodded. “Alright. Our… interrogation will remain private until further notice.” 

Marion adjusted her jumpsuit, zipping it back up fully and trying to clean herself up a little in the sink. She ended up swishing her mouth out with some water to try and get rid of the effects of whatever that numbing slick was on his genitals and wetting a hand towel to try and blot some… whatever the hell off her jumpsuit. As she tried to look decent, she was wondering if she should maybe ask about lotion on this planet, all this disinfectant and the dry air in the base, her skin was looking rough and ashy. Maybe with a little convincing, she could have the General clear her to be back on her landing pod and maybe she could get the body butter she’d left on it. Her thoughts began to wander, but as that after sex bliss was starting to fade, Marion realized just how hungry and sore she was feeling. Her stomach decided to yowl as her brain caught up to all the bodily needs she had been ignoring since she’d discovered sentient life on the planet. 

“What was that noise?” 

“That was my stomach.” Marion sighed as she finally stepped away from the sink, content with how she had cleaned up. “I should eat something. It’s been a while since I could eat something not dehydrated or wrapped in a tortilla. Guess it’s time to feed the alien?” 

She looked over her shoulder to find the General staring up at her with wide eyes, his hand hovering near his pistol. 

“What? Is it… a crime to be hungry or something?” 

“Is it customary on your planet to eat your mates once mating is complete?” 

“No. We don't do that.” She put a hand on her hip. “That's bugs, not humans.” 

That seemed to make him relax just a little bit. He clasped his arms behind his back instead and dropped his gaze a little. “I am not sure how long it will take to get adequate nutrition for you. It can be done, but it will take time to negotiate with a coroner of a nearby city to get you fresh meat for consumption. It might not be enough for-” 

“Oh my God, no!” Marion covered her mouth. “I don’t eat people! Have you thought I was gonna eat someone this whole time?” 

Grawl’s shoulders slumped in visible relief and he smoothed his head tendrils back with a deep breath. “Our data has suggested that your species would be… predatory towards our own. It is a great relief to hear that you, in fact, are not.”

“That is so messed up.” Marion rubbed her face. “We’ll unpack that later when I’m not starving.” 

“If you follow me, I’ll take you to the mess hall.” Grawl walked past her and opened up the door to the lab with a passcode of some sort. “Are you coming?” 

Marion followed behind him, trying to not think about how they thought she was some sort of cannibal this entire time. Yeah, she was big, and felt like she was big as she walked behind him, his head barely reaching her hips, but just because she was big didn’t mean she was going to eat someone just because they’re smaller than her. When they reached some kind of elevator, Marion had to crawl in and take a seat in order to fit inside. It was some kind of glass bubble of an elevator, with a secondary set of doors that looked like chainlink fence, and the shaft that it went up and down in also looked like it was some kind of rounded chainlink fence. A few floors up, it stopped and Grawl stepped out, waiting for her to crawl out and get to her feet before continuing to lead her to the mess hall. 

It looked about what Marion had pictured. There were a bunch of long, low tables and a cafeteria style serving station, manned by a few people. The room was about half full of people. 

“General! Behind you! The monster got loose!” More than one of the men eating at the tables scrambled for their weapons and aimed them at Marion. 

“Stand down, men. She is simply here to eat.” 

Now, several more of them scrambled under the tables with a whimper or made an attempt to hide behind their trays or someone else. One trembling young man with glasses spoke up. “Are you ask-asking for volunteers, sir?” 

“No, Private-” 

“I don’t eat people!” Marion put her hands on her hips. “I’m just hungry.” 

Grawl reached up and grabbed her sleeve. “This way.” He tugged her over towards the serving station where he released her sleeve, grabbed two trays, and put one of them in her hands. He looked to the kitchen staff, all of whom were trembling as they looked up at Marion with wide, pleading eyes. “At ease, men. Give the alien double portions of whatever she wants.” 

The smell of food before her, real, hot food she wasn’t eating out of a tube or a bag or dried and tasteless freeze dried shit made her completely forget how they all just assumed she would eat them. The food looked a little more rounder and alien-y and hover-y than what was back on earth but it was real food and she was hungry and they were under orders to give her double! 

She eagerly pointed to what looked like alien meatloaf, complete with ketchup on top, and the kitchen guy, with trembling hands, managed to squeeze two of the biggest pieces into a single slot of her tray. “Thank you.” Marion followed behind Grawl, getting a lot of the same stuff he did, some kind of canned vegetable and macaroni and cheese except they were circles instead of elbow macaroni. Grawl got a cup of hot, black coffee, but Marion opted for lemonade, especially when the kitchen guy got one of those tall plastic soup tupperware things and filled it up for her. She followed Grawl to a table that nobody was sitting at, and after circling it, she sat at the head of the table where there wasn’t a seat so she could sit on the floor and have the table be mostly table height for her. 

In hindsight, she did then proceed to immediately embarrass herself by choking down her loaded tray as fast as possible. Not that she noticed anything unusual at the time, except how Grawl would occasionally just stop what he was doing to stare at Marion. When she asked what he was looking at, he would either tell her she had something on her face or simply go back to his own meal. 

She’d been taken to some lab with tile floors and big floor drains and an uncomfortable amount of medical equipment laying about, and that professor guy was there, with gloves and a protective mask over his mouth to protect him from her ‘beguiling pheromones.’ And a floaty little hovering device that he used to get eye level with Marion. He’d insisted the General take one of the masks to protect himself. 

He only countered once with a “If she were going to infect me, it would already be done” but otherwise kept completely silent. He also was refusing to look Marion in the eye, and she couldn’t let herself look him in the eye either. The decontamination had been… incredibly awkward. 

For a minute, she was worried that she was going to end up strapped to a lab table, but that didn’t happen. Instead this Professor Kipple guy started poking and prodding at her like some kind of animal while muttering to himself and taking notes. 

Somehow, Marion felt she would be less offended if this had been a proper interrogation with good cop, bad cop, stale coffee and harsh lights. 

“Naturally, the female of the alien species doesn’t possess the ability for a full zombification mind control, though I’m sure her brain is still quite remarkable.” Professor Kipple hummed as he took a few measurements of her skull. “Not that it makes the female helpless, no, no they’re much more dangerous than the males, in fact, as the females are the ones which deposit their eggs inside of a healthy Glippon and force the victim to incubate their young until it is large enough to break free of the victim’s body, in which then the young feeds on the corpse for its first meal. Now, would you mind telling me how your species puts the eggs into their hosts?” 

“That is just… completely factually untrue.” Marion scoffed. “We don’t lay eggs in other creatures.” 

“Ah.” He shook his head. “Lying to us to keep our guards down. You don’t need to do that, Alien, I already know all of your tricks.” 

“Marion.” 

“Pardon?” 

“My name is Marion. Doctor Marion Hardison.” She ducked when his hands went to grab one of her braids. “Do not touch my hair.” 

“You’re a doctor, hm? So are you willing to share some biological secrets with us?” 

“Not that kind of doctor.” Marion sighed. “I have a doctorate, which gives me the title of doctor, but I’m not a medical doctor. I’m a roboticist.” 

“So why not have your title be Roboticist?” 

“Because you can be a roboticist without a doctorate.” She saw him reach out and actually grab one of her braids this time, so she yanked it out of his hand and pushed his little hover thingy back. “Do not! Touch. My hair.” 

He regained his balance as the hover thing nearly tipped over. He adjusted his monocle and cleared his throat as he took a note. “Alright. Do not make an attempt to grab the head tendril… referred to in the alien’s language as hair. Turns the alien aggressive.” He looked up at her. “Are they particularly sensitive or?” 

Marion had to bite back a growl in her throat. “It’s rude on my planet to touch someone’s hair, especially a woman. Keep your paws off my hair.” 

“Duly noted.” His little hover thing sank to the ground and he hopped off and walked over to where she was sitting, continuing to press his little measurement tool around different parts of her body and take notes. “So, do you know which part of your body secretes these mind controlling pheromones? The ones that make us lower your guard so you can put your eggs in us?” 

“I don’t secrete pheromones.” 

He tsked. “Still you lie to us when the truth is literally in the air. I can smell them, my dear. This mask and my superior intelligence are the only things protecting me from their effects.” 

… what?! That can’t be right! There’s no way in hell!

“But we don’t… we can’t… that’s… ants.” 

“Ah,” He clucked his tongue, “My poor dear. This must be very hard for you to hear, but you do secrete pheromones that would send the citizens of this planet into a stupor if you were able to use them properly. As you are just a, what did you call it, roboticist and not a trained warrior, you’ve not been trained in how to use them. But, alas, an untrained bomb is no less dangerous. I would still recommend we remove her brain for further study, General.” 

“Not yet, Professor Kipple.” It was the first time he’d spoken since this whole mess started. 

“Well, I need to perform more tests anyway while her blood is still pumping. I’m going to need to take some blood, urine, x-rays, z-rays, and I’d like to put monitors all over her-” 

“Leave us, Professor.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Leave us. I need to interrogate her.” The General approached Marion. “We still do not know why she is here, and that information takes priority over your studies. It’s a matter of planetary security.” 

“But, I- alone, General? Are you sure you want to be left alone with her? If she lays eggs in you, we-” 

“Leave us!” He barked at the Professor, who quickly grabbed his notes and left with only a few more noises of protest. He smoothed his head tendrils back and slowly circled Marion, watching her through his sunglasses. Since she was sitting and he was standing, they were actually eye level now. 

He paused standing right in front of her and slowly took off his sunglasses, tucking them in a jacket pocket. His antennae wiggled slightly and then he shook his head firmly before speaking. 

“So. You lied to me about your species capability for mind control. You denied your pheromones even as they hang in the air at this very moment. What else was a lie? Do you actually plan on enslaving my world? What are your plans for my people?” 

Marion scoffed and tried to keep the anger that was smouldering in her chest to a minimum. “As far as I know we don’t have mind control abilities… and I didn’t know I made pheromones! It’s not something that really popped up in my studies, you know.” 

“I will choose to believe that is the truth, that you were simply uninformed.” He adjusted his tie as he leaned back a little, and for a second, Marion thought she saw something shift under his shirt. “But know I do not easily let my guard down. Now. What sent you here, and do not lie to me.” 

“You really wanna know what I’m doing here?” Marion crossed her arms. “You’re not gonna twist it into some invasion plan to send everyone into a panic?” 

“I am choosing to take your words as truth.” 

Good enough, she supposed. She was still kind of pissed off that he was taking the world of some little freak over hers when she already didn’t hurt him and they’d had a perfectly fine conversation where she already told him she wasn’t going to invade the planet or something. “I’m here to find the rover we sent a few years back.” Marion shrugged her shoulders. “We sent it here a few years ago, and we got some pictures of rocks and atmospheric readings from it and then it started malfunctioning, badly, within hours of it landing here, and then it went offline. I’m supposed to find it and bring it back since it was really expensive and presumably had a shit ton of data on this planet that we never got because it was malfunctioning.” 

“A… rover.” 

“Yeah. A rover. We called it the Wonder. It’s a robot, a machine we sent here a couple years back. It’s about this big.” She mimicked its height and size with her hands, about the size of a medium dog to her. “Top of the line for autonomous machinery. It’s got a white, round camera on top, six wheels, probably has this flag on it somewhere.” She pointed to the American flag patch on the bicep of her jumpsuit. “You’re the guy in charge of the alien stuff, maybe you saw it?” 

“We have… many machines from beyond the stars here.” The General rubbed his chin for a moment in thought. “Actually… a few days ago, before your craft landed, we had one of the machines somehow escape our containment. Is there a chance this could be your rover?” 

Marion nodded. “I’d need a picture or something to be sure, but it could totally be the one I’m… wait did you say it escaped?” 

“Yes. It escaped containment and we have yet to track it down.” 

“It’s… I have no idea how it did that. It’s supposed to collect rocks, not orchestrate prison breaks.” Marion groaned, rubbing her face. “And you’ve got no idea where it went?” 

“Not at this moment. We are trying to recapture it before the public can find that it is loose.” He cleared his throat. “With that settled… I do have one last question for you, Marion.” 

“Hmn?” She glanced over and saw him fiddling with the ear pieces of his glasses. 

“I understand you are not… in control of your pheromone production, and the way you have… invaded my mind had been unintentional, but I must know if these feelings I am feeling… do they mean anything to you?” 

That was… not where she thought this conversation was going to go at all. He had feelings?! For her?! She didn’t… had she really accidentally seduced an alien general? Just how strong were these pheromones? 

Out of all the aliens she’d seen so far, he was definitely the most attractive out of all of them, the least goofy looking in her personal opinion. All at once the erotica she’d smuggled onto the ship and her datapad with downloaded fanfiction on it all came flooding to the front of her mind and heat spread across her entire face and the embers of anger quickly turned into a burning flame of desire in her stomach. This could be… advantageous, to have a lover who is a high ranking officer in their army. It’d saved the main characters in the books she liked at least once. 

But wasn’t this exactly what they were afraid of? That she was some alien seductress that was coming in and controlling minds and laying eggs in people’s chests? And it certainly wouldn’t help her case that she’s targeting the General as the person that she’s trying to sleep with…

Oh he was still staring at her, and now he was looking upset. She’d been quiet for too long. She should say or do something.

Marion reached out and quickly pulled the General down into her lap, wrapping the chain of her handcuffs around his back. One hand braced against his shoulders and the other clamped around his hip to pull him close, and before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth. 

He tried to struggle back, a surprised noise coming out of him, and she’d felt his hand go to his hostler, but after just a second he relaxed into the kiss. He even put one of his hands on her shoulder. 

After a second, Marion pulled back, since he’d started to try and gasp for air any moment her lips weren’t on his. 

A little smile pulled on her lips as she looked him up and down. “Can you only breathe through your mouth? Because if you do, it’s gonna make kissing a little more dangerous.” 

“N-no. We can breathe through other means, but it’s predominately through our mouths.” He tried to compose himself, straightening his tie and trying to push his ‘hair’ back to that slicked back position, but Marion shifted her grip to put her whole arm across his back and pull him into a deeper, more passionate kiss. He grunted in surprise and Marion held onto him, even as he started to struggle against her again. “M-Marion!” He gasped, pushing against her chest to make her let go. 

“Hmn?” She let him pull back a little, shifting her hand down to his lower back to make sure his pelvis stayed pressed against her stomach where she wanted him. 

His face was flushed blue under that green skin. “We- we shouldn’t be doing this! This is very… it is very…” 

“Sexy?” She lifted her hand from his hip to tug on his tie, her stomach alight with pleasure as he squirmed in her grip. 

“Against protocol.” 

“Hmmm. Screw protocol.” Marion kissed him again, this time making sure to let her tongue slip into his mouth. She only let the kiss linger for a few moments and then sat back with a smirk. 

Seeing him floundering, completely blue-faced, rendered speechless stoked the fire in her belly all the more. As she thought about going back in for more, she saw something moving under his shirt again. It gave her pause, and she moved both hands to his stomach, which made the most interesting noise come out of his throat, half like a squawk and half like a moan as the chain dug into his hips, tightly wrapping around him. 

“What’s going on under there?” Marion started unbuttoning his jacket and he seemed to remember how to move again. 

“No! No, you should not- stop that!” He tried to pry her hands away, but Marion was too quick for him. The jacket was now down around his elbows and she was working on his dress shirt while he tried to stop her. “Marion, please.” 

“What? I’m curious. You got to see my boobs. I want to see what’s going on under your shirt.” 

When she finally managed to get his dress shirt undone, Marion wasn’t quite sure what she had expected. She knew his genitals couldn’t be like a human man’s. But still, somehow, she hadn’t expected to see a flap of skin splitting open from beneath his chest to his lower stomach and a cluster of dark-green, slick, tentacle looking things poking out, slowly pulsing. 

“Marion.” The General choked out in a strangled manner, and his entire body spasmed when she brushed her fingers against one of them, a whimper coming from his throat. “Don’t.” 

“Is this your… genitals?” 

“Yes.” He was pointedly looking anywhere but at her face. 

She rolled over and touched her shoulder to see what the hell was happening, and found that her temperature control undersuit had burst a section of the little water tubes. Luckily just one section, but ugh. Now her shoulder was all wet and it had run down her back. The only other temperature control undersuit she had was up in orbit and the stuff to repair this one was back on her landing module. 

“Shit.” 

She groaned and rolled to a sitting position, finding herself not where she last remembered. The floor was metal with a grate covering a drain in the middle of the round room and… the walls were made of metal and glass in a big dome section. She looked around, finding that the only door in or out had a big round keypad with little odd round buttons, and the door itself was big and round and glass and metal, and the walls around her in the dome were mostly glass but split up by sections of metal that kind of rounded them off into a big series of windows and stuff. Beyond that she could see big concrete walls and some oddly rounded off crates and not much else. 

“Oh what the… Grawl?” She got to her feet and walked over to the windows. Where had he gone? Where was she? “Hello? General?” 

The argument had quieted down and she approached the door to look around and outside of the door were two soldiers, staring up at her with slack jaws and their guns loosely held in their hands in silence. 

“Oh, uh, hi.” Marion bent down a bit to be more on their level through the glass. “Sorry to bother you, but, uh, could you call the General? Last thing I remember is talking to him outside and I must’ve fallen asleep. I’d like to talk to him, if that’s okay.” 

“Uhhh…” One of the guards reached for a walkie talkie on their belts, and the other one slapped it out of his hands. 

“C’mon Rals! How easy is it for you to become a zombie? Stop looking it in the eye!” 

“But The General said to get him immediately if it woke up!” 

“Oh, yeah, he did say that.” 

The first guy picked up his walkie talkie and began talking into it when the other guy tapped the muzzle of his gun against the glass. “Back up from the door, alien, we don’t want you getting any funny ideas about controlling our minds!” 

Wow… mind control was a really big concern here, apparently. Marion held her hands up in surrender and took two big steps back to get to the center of the room and then sat down. There was some little blanket on the floor, mostly folded up, about where her head had been when she woke up. Her heart gave a little squeeze and she refolded the bit of the blanket that had come undone. Well that was sweet. 

As she tried to check herself over for signs of… well alien abduction she didn't find anything concerning but that popped water tube was getting really annoying since her back was wet now. Marion decided that while she waited for the General to come back up she would go ahead and take it off. This place had central heating and air if the big vent above her blowing mostly nice cool air meant anything. The boots and jumpsuit had to be peeled off and then she had to painstakingly slide the temperature regulating suit off, and it took a bit but soon it was off and she could put the jumpsuit back on. Luckily her undershirt was dry so she just wore that and kept the top half of the jumpsuit tied around her waist so it wasn't on her body being all wet and gross. 

By the time she was satisfied with her outfit, Marion could hear the General's voice, accompanied by someone with a British accent? 

“This is a very rare opportunity, General, we don't want to squander it by not removing the alien’s brain for further study! If we can understand what makes it tick then we can potentially unlock a resistance to mind control in all capacity.” 

“We need information on any potential invasion plans, and we won't be able to get that information when the alien is dissected!” 

Thankfully the General seemed to be in favor of not dissecting her. Maybe that meant he believed that she came in peace? She looked towards the door and saw the General approaching her… cell? This was definitely some kind of holding cell. He was approaching the holding cell with some other guy who was way shorter with a comically large head, a large hat, and a monocle. When he spoke, it was with that British accent. 

“General I know I cleared you for any zombification, but if I didn't know better I almost would think you have been turned into a zombie by this alien the way you keep going on to try and protect it.” 

“It is a matter of planetary security that we are sure whether or not the alien has plans to bring more of her kind here.” 

“Her kind-?” 

“Uhm. Hello?” Marion spoke up. She'd walked over to the door during their conversation and tapped at the glass door since they were close enough to it, making both of them look at her. “Hi. Alien here. You can talk to her, it turns out, since we’re all speaking the same language.”

“You’re a female?” The smaller alien asked indignantly. When she nodded, he turned to the General after a little stuttering. “General, why did you not tell me that the alien was a woman?!” 

“We had yet to confirm whether or not the alien was female. It had been a… hypothesis until now.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She had been unconscious, so we had not yet been able to ask.”  

“General, the female of the alien species is ten times more dangerous than the males!” The professor pulled a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and pressed it over his mouth. “Tell me she’s been decontaminated, at least!” 

“Uhm. No. Like I said in my report, she had been unconscious.” 

“Get her into decontamination! Now!” The professor started quickly walking away from the holding cell. “And make sure everyone who interacts with her keeps their distance! The last thing we need is a pheromone attack that will turn the whole base into her mindless sex slaves!”  

Marion had to take a long moment to pick her jaw up off the ground. That was… a lot of assumptions in very little time. Pheromones? Sex slaves? She agreed that women could be ten times as dangerous as men, but what in the hell was he on about with pheromones?! Humans didn’t make pheromones, that was, like, ants. Were they part ant or something? They did have antennae. When she looked over to the General to gauge his reaction to this absurd claim, he was staring up at her with wide eyes, and the guards were scrambling to put something that looked like a gas mask on. 

“What a freak. Pheramones, am I right?” Marion tried to joke, but he seemed to flinch and turn away. “C’mon General, do you think I’m gonna use my… feminine wiles to try and turn everyone into sex slaves?” 

“Get her to decontamination, quickly.” 

“Sir, yes, sir!” 

The next thing that Marion knew is that she was let out of the holding cell and forced through a few hallways at gun point and she was led into something that definitely looked like a shower. The faucets were attached to the ceiling, which was just a little higher up than she was tall, so hey at least she was going to get a shower, even if the faucet would be around her chin while she did so. She hadn’t had a genuine shower in… it’s been months. 

She’d hate to think about what she smelled like right now. There were ways of cleaning yourself on the ship, but nothing that hit like an actual shower. If she could get her hands on her products she’d left in the landing module, she’d be in here for hours taking care of her hair and skin. Unfortunately it seemed to be more of a quick and practical hose bath and scrub down situation, which she’d have to figure out. 

“Undress and step under the faucet.” 

That gave her pause and made her look around the room. There were, like, seven guys in here and the General, and there wasn’t any kind of privacy curtain or anything anywhere she could see. She’d become pretty comfortable with herself being alone in space for so long, but this was way too much. “Uhm, no thanks. I’d rather not get leered at by a half-dozen strange men and skip the shower.” 

Unease swept through the room when she didn’t step forward and start stripping in front of everyone, and most eyes went to the General. “Uh, sir, what do we-” 

“Would you be more cooperative if there were less men in the room?” The General asked her, pointedly not making eye contact. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d be most cooperative if there was a privacy curtain or something so I don’t think you’re all ogling me.” 

“Corporal Nezbit, retrieve the privacy divider and get it set up.” One of the men in masks scrambled off into a darkened corner and came back up with a fold out plastic looking roundish divider and put it up between where everyone else was standing and where the floor drains were under the shower heads. “Now leave.”

“Uh, Sir?” 

“Everyone out!” He barked and the others scrambled out of the room. He notably didn’t leave the room, but gestured to the privacy divider. “Undress and clean yourself.” 

“What, you’re sticking around?” 

“You cannot be left completely unsupervised.” He pointedly looked over to the corner opposite to her and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulling out some funky bubble looking lighter and avoiding eye contact while lighting his cigarette. “The longer you remain potentially contaminated, the longer you will have to remain in the room.” 

With the only guy in the room being at least someone she sorta knew, and there was something stopping him from staring at her so openly, it felt… marginally less violating to be asked to strip at least. 

Marion stepped behind the divider and for the second time since she woke up she stripped her boots and jumpsuit off. This time though her socks and undershirt and underwear all came off and were tossed over the divider to remain dry. There was some knob on the wall and she turned it for cold water to come bursting from the faucet. Thankfully she hadn’t been under the water, so she could just let it warm up while testing it with her hand. Thankfully her braids were all up where she could keep her hair from getting wet as long as she was careful washing her face, since she didn’t have time to actually take care of them fully, and drying them out would be a pain in the ass. There was some strong smelling disinfectant in a bucket with a scrub brush left nearby and a bottle of some very pungent, oddly lemon scented liquid soap for her to clean herself with. 

As humiliating as it might be to be showering in front of someone to wave off their fears of some made up pheromone attack, it felt really, really good to have hot water running down her body. 

It felt so nice she was able to tolerate the harsh sanitizer and the soap she’d squirted on the scrub brush and used on her body. Using her fingers to rub actual hot water and soap over her face felt so good she had to actively remind herself to not get her hair wet. Overall, she was so busy somehow enjoying a hot shower that she didn’t even think about how she was too tall for the divider until she turned around to say something about space showers and exposed her entire chest to General Grawl. 

Now, most of her body was covered, from about her stomach down. She’d had her back to him for this whole time, just enjoying hot water again, and now she was staring directly at him, and he was looking directly at her. Her heart stopped, and she was fairly sure he wasn’t breathing as he was just barely holding a lit cigarette. Marion was very sure her face was on fire as she covered her chest with both arms and turned right back around. General Grawl’s entire face flushed blue and he struggled with remembering how to breathe. 

“I’m… so sorry!” Marion crouched down to avoid showing any more of her body as the embarrassed heat spread to her whole body. “I didn’t, uh, shit, that was an accident. I’m not trying to, uh, use my pheromones on you.” 

“All- all is forgiven.” He coughed a few times and she had to resist the urge to look back at him, hearing him extinguish that cigarette. “Just hurry. Water is rationed at this base, you know.” 

“Will there… be clothes for me?” Marion quickly finished scrubbing the soap off her body while crouched. 

“Of course. I’ll… retrieve it. Do not… just stay here.” 

There was the sound of a door opening and closing and Marion dared stand up to peek back over the divider. He was gone for a moment, and she allowed herself to groan into her hands. She was big for this planet. She needed to be more careful. Already they thought she was some kind of evil seductress with unknown plans for their world. She didn’t need to show people her boobs and prove them right. 

“Stupid.” She hissed to herself and turned the water off to drip dry, crouched back down behind the divider, until he got back with whatever new clothes she was going to be forced to wear and hopefully towels. 

“I am returning.” He called out before he returned. In one of his arms was a stack of towels he awkwardly handed her around the privacy barrier. Thankfully it was a few towels, enough she could properly rub herself dry and even cover her chest with. Despite her skin feeling incredibly dried out from the harsh soap and sanitizer and the humiliation she brought on herself, it felt really, really good to be finally clean. “Here. We found these clothes in your flying saucer.”

It was her backup jumpsuit from the landing craft. Still that dark navy with a name tag and patches, and the socks and underwear stuffed into the pocket were still in there. So at least that was that. She was fully dressed again, with socks and shoes and a sigh of relief as she tried in vain to forget accidentally flashing Grawl like that.

“Now that you have been decontaminated, we should take you to Professor Kipple, for further study.” 

General Grawl did as he was told, and braced for the jet of hot water that seared across his skin moments later. Decontamination was procedure for those who had been in close contact with the alien, and his rank did not mean he was excluded. A few paces away, Major Hisk yelped as the hot water was turned onto him. Stiff bristled brushes wielded by those in full masks and full body protective garments, covered with strong soap and sterilizing material were scrubbed harshly against his back and sides. 

“Turn, arms out.” 

The brushes were turned onto his front, and he had to take a deep breath to remain calm as the brushes were harshly, at least quickly, scrubbed over his stomach before the hot water was turned back onto him. His middle was still awfully sensitive after driving back to the base with her head in his lap, every little bump and shift causing her to brush against his abdomen in a manner that had him struggling with his self control. 

Burning hot water in a bucket was dumped over his head, and then an ice cold bucket with enough sterilization fluid to make his antennae curl from the harsh scent.

“Decontamination complete, you may step aside, General.” 

A sterilized uniform had been set aside for him as he dried himself off. The jacket which had been draped over her was currently being placed in a sealed container where Professor Kipple, the lead researcher on all things alien, would be wanting to study it and see how interactions between their clothing and alien skin would be. Almost everything was salvageable from the jacket, except for his cigarettes. But a new pack was already sitting neatly next to his sunglasses and medals. 

Once everything had been settled back in their place, the General sighed and slicked his head tendrils back. He needed to finish preparations for the arrival of Professor Kipple, and undoubtedly his superiors would be arriving eventually to see how things progressed with the alien, but they would probably not arrive until this all was over. 

What this being ‘all over’ entailed, he had yet to actually consider. Would Marion be killed, dissected and studied? Or sent back to her own planet? Or maybe she would continue to live here, on Glippon? 

He shook his head. He needed to report to medical for a zombie check by the base’s medical staff until Professor Kipple could further clear him. It was a fairly standard procedure, checking if his senses all still worked, testing his reflexes, and searching for any abnormalities in his word association practices. The medical staff cleared him, for now. 

“Do we know when Professor Kipple might be arriving, Doctor Scol?” 

“I don’t know for sure.” His lazy eye was drifting again as he signed the release forms that the General was not yet a zombie. “His last message said he would be arriving before dawn, which is still hours away.” 

“See if you can contact him again to get a more accurate time.” 

“Yes, sir, General Grawl.” 

In the meantime he decided to go check on the ali- on Marion. He found her in the secondary storage facility, on the highest level, curled up and still fast asleep in the primary specimen containment unit, a large glass and metal cage that had tubes and wires connecting it up into the ceiling and thick metal clamps bottled tightly into the ground. A folded blanket had been left under her head, for comfort. The guards that were tasked with keeping an eye on her saluted when the General approached. 

“Any sign of change in her status?” 

“Sir, no, sir!” One of them barked. 

“Sir, yes, sir!” The other barked at the exact same time. 

Grawl turned to the one who had said there had been a change. “And what change was that?” 

“The, uh, the alien started snoring for a bit, but it’s stopped now.” 

“Hmn.” Grawl listened for any sign of her snoring, but he didn’t hear anything through the little intercom besides her breathing. “Carry on, and make note if she begins snoring again.” 

“Doctor!” He shouted as he struggled to keep the alien off him, hoping to wake it up, but his arms gave out and he found himself with his back pressed hard into the dirt and the alien laying on top of him. From his thighs to the middle of his chest was pressed beneath its own chest, its arm he could see stretched out beside him in the dirt. Both of his arms were caught at his sides beneath the alien, and he tried to simply pull them free, but it wouldn’t budge. “Doctor, wake up!” 

Nothing. The alien was fast asleep. 

He better save his breath if the alien’s weight on his chest meant anything. 

With struggling being proven largely ineffective, the General had a moment to think about the alien. It was clearly intelligent, intelligent enough to create living machinery, these robots. And if it had these robots on its planet, then it was actually a much lower chance of it wanting to enslave his planet, because surely these robots would be best at doing menial grunt labor while the alien’s superior brains were best used for exploration, medicine, arts, and creating and maintaining these working robots, so having a world full of slaves would be completely unnecessary. But that didn’t mean that it would not want his planet for other manners. The alien had only promised to not enslave them all. His people could possibly be reduced to cattle, to be slaughtered and harvested for meat, or kept as exotic pets of some kind. 

And while it had promised that it could not control minds, he doubted that. Within moments of actually kidnapping the General, it had disarmed him of his primary and backup weapon, and lulled him into some kind of trance where he was believing what it had told him and managed to wow him with its intellect and then effectively took him by surprise and trapped him beneath it. All clear evidence he was under her mind control. What even was this ‘Nah-sa,’ anyway? For all he knew, it was something that needed robots for harvesting alien worlds for its people or resources! 

It might… her. The alien was most likely female. 

General Grawl softly groaned to himself. If this alien was a woman, then it would make his life quite awkward, but he was able to observe almost all of her entire body from his position squished beneath her, and it looked more like a woman than a man. Her dark head tendrils, looking black in the starlight, were quite long, and even pulled up in a pretty swirling pattern that he had never seen before. He struggled to raise his head enough over her arm to observe her face and couldn’t help but notice how full and soft her lips were, and that were eyes, though closed, had these thick lashes protecting them. There was that odd protrusion in the middle of her face, but no antenna. The rest of her was obscured by this thick body suit, which was one of the largest pieces of evidence she was a woman, as it covered her legs, even all the way down to her ankles, and there was this other covering over her feet, but even through this body suit, he could see her figure was much more… curvaceous than any man’s. Buxom, if he was being honest with himself. Her chest was pressed tight against him, and he had to try and ignore that. It would be incredibly inappropriate if he was caught in such a compromising position with an alien. 

Yes, this was… unseemly. He needed to remove himself from under her. If he could just get his arms free. 

It took no small amount of struggle for General Grawl to pull one arm free from where it was trapped beneath her, but once one arm was free he could use it to push against her and for him to plant his feet and push and slip his other arm free. Once his arms had been freed, he could twist and shift and push hard against her side enough he could slip free. He had to do it in two short bursts, turning to drag himself against the hard ground but he could achieve it! He managed to free himself from beneath the alien now. 

Within moments of catching his breath he had retrieved his weapons and checked them for damages and then stowed the pistol in its holster and his knife in its sheath in his jacket. Now that he was free, he should return to base, inform his men of the situation, and bring out a transport truck to get her out of the view of the public. Usually nobody was just out wandering the desert, but he couldn’t just leave her out here for anyone to stumble upon. He had brokered a very tentative peace between their people, and he did not need that peace being broken and her to turn hostile because some random member of the public found and attacked her.

General Grawl circled her fully now, to get a full view of her, as a peaceful observation, nothing more. Her ears were softly rounded, not pointed like his own, and her skin. He’d never seen skin like this before, dark brown, like a fine wood or a luscious dessert. When he crouched down to observe her hands better, he not only found five fingers upon her hand, but the underside of her hands were a little lighter than the rest of her, slightly pinker. There were these hard little round plates upon the ends of her fingers, definitely claws, but very blunt and short. If she created robots, then she must work with her hands, which is why she would need to shorten her claws. 

He shook himself, this was still a large alien from an unknown world with not fully known intentions for his planet. He needed to return to base. Immediately. 

Three steps away from the alien, she shifted, softly groaning, and she rolled onto her side, pulling her arms close to her body. 

If she woke and found him gone, it might cause her to start rampaging. 

Why did this have to be so difficult? 

He thought for a moment, and then removed his jacket. His sunglasses were shifted to his dress shirt’s pocket, his knife’s sheath was removed and attached to his belt, and for a moment he thought about taking his cigarettes with him, but left them and took his lighter instead. He would be back shortly. 

When he noticed the dirt on his jacket, he shook the dirt off and draped his jacket over her body. She didn’t seem to react much to the jacket for a moment, and then she grabbed it in one of her hands and curled into it. 

“I will be right back, Marion. Remain here.” He whispered and then set off to find the base and his men. He would need to get a transport vehicle out here immediately, and then he would need to move her flying saucer into Base 9 before anyone could discover it. 

Surely by now his men were sweeping the desert and looking for him and the alien. She had only run for a few minutes after taking him, how far could they be that his men had not found them yet.

He saw the lights of the perimeter before he found any men in a transport vehicle looking for them. Already, he was regretting leaving his cigarettes in his jacket. 

“Attention!” The voice of one of the Captains rang out as he approached. 

“Recall the search parties.” He ordered, and saw the Captain look at the Lieutenant with a lost expression. “The alien is sequestered somewhere safe and I am unharmed.” 

“But, uh, sir, didn’t you become a zombie?” 

It would make sense, being alone with the alien for a stretch of time, to become a mind control zombie, but he felt like himself. His mind was clear. The soreness in his knee from a prior wound meant he could still feel pain. “No, Captain Kizno, I am not a zombie that I am aware of.” 

“Do zombies know they’re zombies?” Lieutenant Groit asked quite loudly. 

“Of course zombies know they’re zombies, didn’t you see the first humaniacs?” 

General Grawl sighed and walked past them into the base. “Recall the search parties!” He shouted over his shoulder. 

“But we didn’t start any search parties!” One of them kind of shouted back.

Oh how he regretted leaving behind those cigarettes. 

Not too long later, General Grawl was in a transport vehicle, heading back into the desert, with a personnel carrier following behind them while he tried to log a report on the situation, a cigarette hanging on his lips. The flying saucer had been secured, and the alien had been found and communications had been peacefully established. They were going to take her to Base 9 for questioning and security until they would fully understand why she was here and what her mission was with their planet. 

“Turn here, Corporal. The alien is just down the slope and near the cliff face.” 

Thankfully, she was still there, still asleep from what he could see, and his jacket was still covering her. 

“Headlights off, we do not want to wake her.” 

The two vehicles landed with a soft thud and the lights thankfully turned off before they woke her up. He set the report down under a weight and took a drag of his cigarette before climbing out of the transport vehicle. The other soldiers were scrambling out of the personnel carrier and getting into formation, guns drawn. After a few more puffs, he ground the cigarette out on the bumper of the transport vehicle and approached where Marion still slept. 

“Lower your weapons, men, the alien is unconscious." He crouched down and brushed a hand against her cheek. She remained asleep. “Major Hisk, get over here and assist me.” 

“Uh, sir, what if it wakes up and eats us?” 

“If the alien wakes up hostile, we will deal with it. For now, assist me in loading the alien into the truck.” 

“Alright… but I’m not getting near its face.” 

General Grawl carefully pried his jacket back from her grip and put it on. She’d rolled onto her back now, which made her much easier to carry. Major Hisk awkwardly stood near her legs, and he stooped down to hook his arms under her shoulders. Major Hisk grabbed her around the knees, kind of tossing her knees over his shoulders and the pair carried her into the transport vehicle. 

The maybe minute or so of carrying her felt like an eternity, however. The way her head was resting against his stomach, brushing against him, he could feel his shirt tightening as heat pulsed through his middle. This was not the time, and it would be embarrassing at minimum and compromising at worst if someone noticed his arousal at the alien’s proximity. The memory of her body pressed tight on top of his only made it worse as he stepped up into the transport truck and carefully laid her in the bed of the truck. Major Hisk all but dropped her legs, and he had to bite back a barking command when she shifted against him. 

One of her arms reached back, wrapping around him, pulling him down, sweeping his legs beneath her head as she mumbled in her sleep, nuzzling into him, butting her head against his stomach in a way that made his dress shirt and jacket feel impossibly tight and his breath catch in his throat. 

“Should we get a-” 

The world around her was dry, dusty, desert-like. There were even plants here which were already much more than she had anticipated. The atmospheric readings had told her that this planet’s atmosphere was breathable, but she didn’t want to risk being exposed to other things until absolutely necessary, so she’d kept the suit on while she’d explored. But not far from the landing module, she’d wandered onto signs of civilization! There had been a road, a small paved road, with the double yellow lines and road signs and everything, and she followed it while recording everything she could and then she was hit by a little floating, round, odd car and well, now she was hiding out in the desert while the locals of the planet were panicking and from what she could tell, rallying the troops. She’d been separated from her landing module, her helmet had cracked, and she had completely fumbled the very first contact with an alien species already. 

Marion still cringed thinking about that look of terror on that little green man’s face she’d run into. They were definitely fully sentient people with a whole, strangely modern civilization, and she’d scared the crap out of him when he’d gotten out of his car to check on her after he hit her if the way he ran away screaming meant anything. 

She leaned up over a couple of rocks on the edge of the cliff she’d holed up on to check on the landing module. Yep. Still surrounded by what looked like military humvee versions of the little hovering saucer cars. They had a perimeter of guys with guns, and oh, joy, they were setting up barbed wire fences and pitching one of those big contamination tents around the module. 

Fantastic. Absolutely perfect. 

Marion had to not start swearing or yelling in frustration and instead sank down behind the rocks. It was going to be nightfall soon, if the calculations about the rotation speed were correct. Maybe at nightfall she could try and see if she could make a break for the module? 

For the moment, that was her plan. Since the helmet was cracked anyway, she removed the rest of her white spacesuit and stowed it away under a loose pile of rocks in the hope that she could either fall back and retrieve it if this went bad, or she would just have to use the backup suit in the module until she could reconnect with the ship. She still had her blue jumpsuit on, her under layers, including her temperature regulation suit, and her thick black boots. It would have to do. 

With only occasionally popping up to check on the progress of the little alien guys, Marion just waited for nightfall. And then waited a little longer to make sure it was actually well into nightfall and hopefully the soldiers would be getting sleepy. She peeked over the cliff once more, nothing much had changed other than she could count some yawns on the soldiers, and slowly emerged from her hiding spot. 

Hopefully between her dark skin and the navy blue of her jumpsuit, she’d blend into the desert night. 

No alarms went off, nobody started screaming, so she assumed that she was being sneaky enough. She was keeping herself low to the ground, crawling on her hands and knees in a few cases, darting from hiding spot to hiding spot and hoping that they wouldn’t see her before she could figure out if she could make it back to the module. 

She’d gotten pretty close to their set up area, and lay in wait behind a cluster of boulders, listening, waiting. To her infinite surprise, she heard them speaking English to each other, with American accents, even! 

“Do you think it’s gonna eat our brains for dinner?” 

“I dunno, man. I heard that aliens eat organs for dinner, and brains are more of a breakfast food for them.” 

“I hope this doesn’t turn into Humaniacs two. We didn’t win that one.” 

“Spoilers! I didn’t watch it yet because I wanted to see how Humaniacs three turned out!” 

“How are you supposed to see how good the third one is before even watching the second?” 

Marion had to take a deep breath and carefully, slowly peer out from her hiding place. They’d set up big spotlights, but they were all facing into the area they were already guarding. Since all the guards were standing in the light looking at the darkness, it probably meant that they couldn’t see her all too well, even if they spotted her. 

Now that she could get a good look at them, she saw they were… Well, they had a human-like shape. Two legs, two arms, dexterous fingers- even if as one of the soldiers flexed their hands she could only count four fingers- a torso, and a head with two eyes and external ears. They also had a pair of antennas on their heads that they had poking out through their little helmets, so that was something. They didn’t wear shoes or pants- thankfully there was no external genitals from what she could tell- their skins were all shades of green, and when one of them took their helmets off, she saw they had something that kind of looked like hair on their heads, but it didn’t really look like hair from her perspective. 

And they spoke English! Somehow! 

If she’d ever managed to talk to one of them, she’d like to really dig into phrases in English that she knows are borrowed from other languages, to see if those other languages were somehow also spoken on this planet. But in order to speak with them, she needed to tell them she came in peace. And she couldn’t really do that as she’d been watching them long enough to know they shot basically anything that moved, rocks, dust, a tumbleweed, including each other at least once. 

So, you know, a mild problem since they all had guns. 

As she waited for something to change, suddenly all of the men on the perimeter straightened up, hands smacking against helmets as they saluted a slightly larger alien that came from within their perimeter. None of the aliens she’d spotted so far were too big, and his guy being the biggest she’d spotted, he was about half of her size from what she could estimate. Actual little green men in every sense of the word. 

“General Grawl, sir!” 

“At ease, men.” He wore a much more formal brown jacket than the other soldiers, still no pants or shoes, but it was clear he was important with the medals that glinted once or twice on his coat from the spotlights. His ‘hair’ was slicked back, and he wore no helmet, but as he walked she spotted a pistol of some kind on his hip. Somehow the people in charge here were also called Generals, but she needed to stop thinking about the coincidences in language or it’d be all she could think about. “Any sign of the alien?” 

“No, Sir, General Grawl, Sir!” 

He sighed a little, eyes scanning the desert, making Marion duck back down behind the rocks. “Keep yourselves sharp, men, we cannot let our guards down. If it returns, who knows what diabolical plans it would begin to enact.” 

“Sir, yes, sir!” 

Marion poked her head ever so slightly over the rock now to see him survey the area a little more, adjusting his sleeves slightly. A General. Now… that was someone who if she could get to hear her out, then it’d be pretty useful. It’s not like she was actually here with any plans of hurting anyone. They spoke the same language. But she’d been watching them long enough to realize they weren’t all that… smart. Not that they were dumb, they had hover cars and paved roads, but it’s clear that as a group they tended to get a little hostile. 

The General was heading back to the fence gate now. If he went inside, she would have a much harder time trying to get him to talk to her. She didn’t want to scare them into attacking, but if she could get them to just listen to her then maybe they’d not attack at all. Maybe, they could even help her find where that rover ended up! 

She needed to move. Now. 

With a hissed curse word, Marion got into a crouch and tried to formulate a plan. She needed to isolate the General to get him to talk to her. 

He was almost at the gate! She couldn’t let him get away!

Before she could actually think about what she was about to do, Marion was already running towards the perimeter fence, towards the General. It took her actually entering the spotlights before someone shouted in terror, raising the alarm. She had a good momentum going, so by the time she was close to the General, she just stooped down mid stride and grabbed him in her arms. Thankfully, he didn’t weigh too much, and she just pivoted on her heel and started to run back into the night as the first shots were fired at her. 

Her calculations had been right, he was just under half of her height, and he weighed about what she’d thought, maybe a little bit lighter? Thankfully it meant that he was pretty easy to hold, one arm around his arms and chest and her hand clutching his head, the other kinda squeezing his legs against her stomach so he couldn’t squirm too much. 

“Be cool, be cool, be cool.” Marion whispered to herself as she had to dodge around boulders and scramble up a steep hill while carrying a struggling weight in her arms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Just be cool for a minute.” 

At some point when she glanced over her shoulder to see if she was being followed- she wasn’t, which was a massive relief- she suddenly felt something hard clamp down on her finger. 

“Yow!” She glanced down, slowing her stride a bit so she didn’t slam into anything, and saw that he was biting her finger! 

He mumbled something and tried to bite down on her finger again, but she pulled her hand away. Quickly, Marion jogged over to a rock wall and then dropped him on the ground. 

“Again, ow!” She crouched down and first pulled that gun out of his hip holster and tossed it aside. “Listen, man, I’m sorry for grabbing you, but I needed to talk to you, alone.” 

“Do what you want with me, alien scum, but I’d sooner die than see my planet turned into your mind controlled slaves!” He reached for something in his jacket, and she grabbed both of his hands to stop him. 

“Hey, let’s just be cool, hm?” Marion carefully pulled his hand out of his jacket to see he had some kind of knife in his hand. She had to wrestle it away from him, and he struggled against it being taken, but it soon was tossed over to where his gun had been discarded. “No need for any kind of weapons. I come in peace.” 

“Likely story.” He grunted and tried to pull his hand free of her grip, and Marion did let his hand go, and thankfully he didn’t go for any more weapons. “I can feel you trying to get into my mind already, I won’t go willingly, I will fight to my last breath against your control-” 

Marion covered his mouth with her hand again, this time making sure her palm was against his mouth not her fingers. “I’m not trying to control your mind.” 

That seemed to make him pause. His eyes narrowed, and she was able to see that he had brown eyes from this close. Somehow she’d expected yellow or purple, not something that looked so normal. 

“I don’t know what your people think I can do, but I promise mind control isn’t something I can actually do. Humans have no psychic powers, I promise.” Marion took a second to glance behind her. Nobody was coming yet. “I’m going to put my hand down, and I need you to not start screaming, understand?” 

He nodded as much as he could with his face being squished under her hand. 

“Okay. We’re just going to be cool.” She pulled her hand away, and thankfully he didn’t start screaming immediately. 

He took a deep breath and looked up at her very suspicious eyes. “If you do truly come in peace, why did you take me? What do you want with me?” 

Marion rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. “Well, I didn’t mean to just kidnap you like that. I didn’t really have a plan, and it was stupid to just charge in like that. I just need to talk to you. I need you to understand that I’m not here to enslave anybody and I’m friendly.” 

“But why me?” 

Marion blinked. “Aren’t you… in charge? I figured I should talk to the guy in charge of the whole operation first.” 

He blinked back and then seemed to straighten up a little, even puffing his chest out. “Yes, I am. My name is General Grawl, and I am in charge of The United Glippon Nation’s extraterrestrial management branch.” 

“Nice to meet you, General.” Marion half saluted. “I’m Doctor Marion Hardison, roboticist for the United State’s NASA program.” 

“A Doctor and a roboticist?” The General’s eyes blew wide. “You must be one of the smartest minds on your planet.” 

Marion felt her cheeks darken a little bit. “Oh, no, I just have a doctorate in robotics. On my planet, if you go through enough college and get into special programs, you get the title of Doctor without being in any medical field.” 

“Incredible.” He blinked up at her. “What’s a roboticist?” 

“I make robots.” Marion chuckled. “And I fix ‘em too.” 

She became aware of how her knees and thighs were protesting the squat she’d been holding for so long and decided to finally, actually sit down next to the General. A deep sigh of relief left her as she put her shoulders back against the rock. First contact was going well, all things considered. No declaration of war, no murderous crazes. Not so bad for a nerd who’d spent three weeks talking to herself. She looked up at the stars and couldn’t help the smile. This sky was… so beautiful. So different from the sky she’d grown up seeing. Her muscles started to loosen as she felt the adrenaline starting to wear off.

“Doctor Hardison?” 

“Hm?” She looked down at her side. Next to his species, the General looked so tall and sturdy, but sitting next to her he looked bitty. His head was next to her ribs, and his legs stretched out next to hers were positively stubby. 

“It would be for the best if we went back to the landing zone. I’m sure my men would want to hear that I am unharmed.” 

“Yeah, they probably would.” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “Sorry for grabbing you like that, by the way. I didn’t think of a better way to get you alone to talk.” 

“All is forgiven, Doctor Hardison.” 

Marion meant to respond and get up and start walking back but a wave of drowsiness took her over. Any attempt to talk just had a yawn spill out of her. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Sleepy.” She closed her eyes for just a second. “We can-” she yawned, “We can walk back in just a second. I need to… to rest my eyes.”