A/N: A note of thanks to my reviewers thus far, Silberstreif, ArtistOfLight, and Louisestarfly – you're all terrific! Hope to hear from more of you, as well. Reviews are such a thrill and an important aspect to why we authors upload our stories. Love hearing your impressions and thoughts.
The story is broken into 21 chapters. Everything thing is done – I only need to post. If you have a posting rate preference (like once every couple days) or more slowly (once a week), let me know and I'll attempt to accommodate what most would like.
With that, let's get back to the story!
x x x x x
Chapter 2
"What?" Warren stared incredulously to where Ztar disappeared. "What did he say?" The implanted universal translators he had received on the Shi'ar vessel must have malfunctioned. That had to be it.
"Archangel, come with me. Ztar's attendant will explain." The aide motioned the guards to move closer.
Warren wasn't budging. "I'm not going anywhere until I get an explanation because what I just heard doesn't make sense. Damn translator isn't working right."
"It's working perfectly," Ztar's aide sighed.
"You can't know that – I'm telling you it didn't work right. I demand you repeat what Ztar said!" he barked.
The aide looked decided annoyed. "Archangel, in case there is a misunderstanding of your circumstance here, you are in no position to demand. You are to obey and submit in any fashion the Emperor chooses. Should you do otherwise, your homeworld is forfeited. If the Emperor wishes for you to be his bedmate, then that's what you'll be." The aide waited. He had generous experience with the current situation. Each of Ztar's "hesitant" companions displayed similar reactions immediately after learning of their position as the Emperor's new consort. And the Emperor had many over the years.
"…in my bed" "bedmate" – that couldn't be right. Couldn't be what he was thinking. A mistake – the translations must be wrong. 'Verify, Worthington. Verify first!' the thought rang in his head. "Bedmate?" he nearly choked on the word.
"Yes, the Emperor wishes you to share his bed and that's what you will do. If you do not, your planet will pay for your defiance," the aide said firmly and coldly.
The room spun as the full meaning of the words took hold. 'Oh my god! No way – no fucking way! This isn't happening. A bad dream. Just need to wake up!'
One portion of his mind fought to deny what he was hearing. It wasn't entirely effective. Another part was racing to fully comprehend the ramifications. The mental torrent resulted in a myriad of chemicals in his blood system with the expected results – Warren thought he'd vomit.
"Breathe deeply to steady yourself," the aide offered, recognizing the signs. "Focus on my voice and do as I say."
Without conscious decision, Warren breathed in, held it, then exhaled slowly, his breath trembling. 'Okay, get a grip,' He took another deep breath. 'Shit shit shit!'
"I'll do no such thing. This is all a lie – a trick," he spoke with desperation. "I demand to read the Accord."
The aide huffed in irritation. The Human was rapidly becoming quite troublesome. Yet the emotional reactions were nearly always the same and not a surprise…confusion, disbelief, denial. Quickly evaluating the situation, the aide concluded the most expedient action was to give the Human what he requested. Let him see his circumstances in writing and perhaps that would end the groundless protests.
Pulling out a hand-held device, the aide brought up the text of the Accord and bypassed the preliminary passages of the document to display those of interest to Archangel. It was all in interstellar legalese, but bottom line, Archangel now belonged to Ztar to do with as he pleased. A couple more taps of the screen and the lengthy treaty was translated into the Human's written language – English, he thought they called it.
"This is the translated version of the Accord, Archangel. I've noted the clauses relating directly to you. All the terms are quite clear and precise in regard to your position and responsibilities," the aide explained handing the device over.
Warren snatched the pad quickly. It could still be a trick, but they would have had to go to a hell of a lot of trouble to create a believable contract between the Turzent Empire, the Shi'ar, and Earth that Warren would buy into. His business acumen would pay dividends.
As he read the clauses of the Accord, his hands began to shake. Earth and the Shi'ar were to deliver him to the Empire in exchange for Earth's autonomy from Turzent rule. Once done, it fell to Warren to safeguard that autonomy – "Archangel/Warren Kenneth Worthington III shall submit without resistance in any manner or conduct as dictated by Emperor Ztar." The document went on to detail in no uncertain terms that failure to submit or obey would immediately subjugate Earth and its people and nullify the autonomy granted by the agreement.
He found another passage that made him dizzy with implications. "Archangel/Warren Kenneth Worthington III is hereby declared the sole property of Emperor Ztar of the Turzent Empire and devoid of any and all rights legally and otherwise granted to sentient beings under Turzent, Shi'ar, and/or Earth law..."
His blood drained away. The words were so cold and dispassionate. Life as he knew it was declared null and void. He was no longer a person, only a possession. 'No rights – no recourse. A fucking piece of property!'
There was more, much more, but Warren couldn't bring himself read any further. He doubted he'd find anything to give the document away as a fraud. What he read sounded like a legitimate legal agreement, and it said exactly what everyone was telling him it did.
'Dear God, it can't be for real! The Professor wouldn't have agreed to this – ever. Don't believe it – won't believe it! But it sounds so real – so fucking legal. Oh God. How can this be? If this is valid, I'm screwed. Screwed!'
Having given the Human ample time to review the most important clauses, the aide spoke. "As you can see, the situation is as we've told you. Now we must move along," he said, carefully removing the device from Archangel's trembling grip.
'This isn't real…can't be real…' Warren's mind numbed as shock took hold once again. He blinked at the alien with surreal detachment.
"Archangel," the aide said almost gently, "we are going to your private chambers. Ztar's attendant is there to help you sort this out." He would all too happily turn the Human over to Sukja to manage.
With guards in a semi-circle around them, the aide led the group out of the throne room. Warren followed. Everything was dreamlike and disconnected – as if he was watching someone else walk down the corridor. Disassociation had replaced emotion.
###
Sukja opened the chamber door as the group was arriving. He took charge immediately, beckoning Archangel inside and dismissing everyone else. The aide whispered, "This one's a bit of a handful."
The attendant replied with a quick nod. He had tamed many less than eager bedmates over the years. Emotionally, he doubted the Human would be much different from other unwilling consorts he had prepared for their new role. The man looked dazed; likely emotion shock. That temporary condition would work to Sukja's advantage – it can make the subject more malleable for a time.
He took a moment to take in the man as he moved past, not having been privy to seeing Archangel until that moment. Ztar had described him, but Sukja hadn't seen any images. It was obvious why the Emperor was so determined to possess Archangel. Despite species differences and Sukja's preference being for the opposite gender, he found Archangel beautiful. Part of an attendant's job was to understand and anticipate every imperial desire of a personal nature. Sukja was very good at his work. Thoroughly versed in Ztar's likes, dislikes, desires, and needs, he knew instantly the Human matched his Emperor's tastes perfectly.
Ztar's enthusiastic description had not been overstated. In spite of what must have been a horrifying experience over the past couple hours, Archangel was magnificently beautiful. True to description, the Human did immediately conjure up images of Turzent mythical creatures called the Esserru – winged beings of compassion, incredible beauty, and immense power. In fact, the likeness to those beings was uncanny.
If everything else Ztar said about the winged man was true, and there was no reason to believe otherwise, the Emperor's latest acquisition held great promise to finally provide Ztar what was needed in the bedchamber. Perhaps the lonely and frustrated ruler would find some fulfillment in that arena at long last.
Sukja also realized that if the pairing failed, Ztar may never again find the unique set of qualities present in the Human. Much rode on a positive outcome, and that burden rested heavily on Sukja, but he was confident in his abilities to assuage fears, anger, and rebellion. He had years of experience to call upon.
Sukja moved his hand over the control to close and lock the door. He'd previously set the security system to respond only to his bio signature. Archangel could not leave.
"My name is Sukja and I am Emperor Ztar's personal attendant. These are your chambers," Sukja started.
Warren looked around. His mind focused only things that were potentially useful to his survival – the door they just past through and its control panel which he would have bet was now locked, the two other doors at either end of the large quarters, and objects he could use in self-defense, such as the large metal-looking art piece on the wall by the dining area – nice, sharp points.
Sukja wanted to promise Archangel some future influence over his surroundings. The ability to assert a measure of control over one's circumstance was important to all sentient beings he had encountered. "This is your domain. Here you decide when to rise in the morning, when to eat, when to partake in pastime activities, how you spend your days. If you want to change things around to suit you better, that's your decision." Sukja detailed in a soft, almost melodic voice.
Warren walked further into the room. His head was pounding and his stomach churning, he realized. The rest of his body didn't seem to belong to him – he couldn't really feel it. Thoughts, too, were hard to form. He recognized the sensations as the same numbness and mental shutdown from his first agonizing hours with Apocalypse. It was his brain's attempt to insulate him from what was happening. Warren shook his head in an attempt to reattach. 'Need to think, damn it!' he chastised himself.
Sukja had been kept apprised of events concerning Archangel as they had unfolded. He knew the Human had put up more resistance than typical. But Archangel wasn't typical. He was a unique being coming from uncommon circumstances – a warrior and a person of wealth and influence on his world. Yet as exceptional as the Human may be, the emotional reactions to his new life would likely be consistent with other bedmates Sukja had transitioned into Ztar's service.
The alien was suddenly in front of Warren. "You are in shock. Perhaps a sedative and some rest?"
That made Warren's heart jump. "No sedatives!" he said much more loudly than he had intended.
Sukja took a step backward. "If that is your wish. For now, why don't you just sit for a while? Collect your thoughts and digest what has happened today." Sukja motioned to a comfortable looking chair at a dining table.
'That's harmless enough,' Warren told himself and walked over. The Turzent actually pulled the chair out for him.
Sukja stepped over to the kitchen facilities, filled a glass with water, and placed it in front of Archangel. "Drink – you need the fluids."
Warren hadn't realized he was thirsty, but he was intensely parched. He consumed the water quickly and Sukja got him a second glass. But Warren's stomach revolted from the hastily consumed first glass, and he let the second sit, hoping he didn't vomit in front of the alien.
He studied Sukja to take thoughts off his churning stomach. He didn't resemble any other Turzents Warren had seen. Yet another different species. Thus far, everyone had referred to the aliens collectively as Turzent, no matter what they looked like. Perhaps that was a term like "American" – a reference to nationality instead of race or species. Warren concluded that had to be the case.
Sukja was a good three inches shorter than Warren, putting him about five-foot nine inches, and of a much stockier build than Warren's lithe frame. The alien's most prominent feature was the short, thick hair covering his head in a bright reddish-orange. The alien's carrot-top contrasted the light, creamy-tan skin tone, which contained just a hint of the same orange. His hands had only three fingers with the obligatory opposable thumb as the fourth digit. The slender fingers were longer than Human fingers and their nails more claw-like, extending beyond the tip to come to a dull point. The medium-gray eyes were largish and did have the white sclera that Ztar's species did not possess. His smallish nose was straight as an arrow coming to a slightly upturned end, the chin was somewhat elongated, and the ears looked like someone stretched the lobes to points.
Overall, Sukja was quite Humanoid. That seemed to be a running theme in most aliens Warren had seen as an X-man. Was there some common ancestry eons ago? The question was too big to contemplate. Right then, Warren's body was crashing. A sluggish, heavy feeling pulled at him.
Sukja recognized the outward signs of physiological changes taking place within Archangel. Fatigue was beginning to grip him. Adrenaline was clearing out of his system. So he continued talking softy, but never in a condescending or child-like manner. Nothing that would agitate or offend. Sukja wanted to lull the Human toward the rest needed as his body attempted to recover from shock.
"The ship we're on is named Mi-Lartui, which roughly translates to emperor's sword. We carry an accompaniment of 170 personnel. There are five decks at the ship's tallest point, and two decks at its shortest. We're on deck two. Your chambers are centrally located on this level." Sukja kept his tone steady, smooth.
Warren listened to the drone of the alien's voice, but most words didn't register. His mind kept repeating words and phrases he only wanted to forget.
"Your chambers offer cooking facilities on this end and hygiene facilities on the other end, behind that door. You have computer access from several points throughout the room. The main interface is at that desk."
The alien motioned toward a work area, but Warren didn't follow Sukja's gesture. He didn't care about desks. "Computer" though piqued his interest. Possible hacking opportunities – he'd learned quite a bit from the X-men's computer experts, Beast and Kitty. He filed away that idea for later. He was growing tired – so tired it hurt; another symptom he recognized as adrenaline crash mixed with shock. Warren continued to half listen to the surreal soliloquy as Sukja's mesmerizing voice rambled on.
"You can order meals from the ship's main galley to be brought to you or the ingredients to cook for yourself. We carry an enormous selection of foods and fine liquors from across the Turzent Empire, all of which is at your disposal. We have an extensive library of written works, as well as audio and visual recordings, accessible through your computer terminal."
Sukja continued to speak softly about nothing of consequence, knowing the man would likely remember only snatches. It wasn't the information that was important; it was lulling that was the goal.
As the minutes passed, it was increasingly evident that Archangel's body desired rest. "Archangel, you are safe in this room. I will let no one disturb you if you wish to close your eyes for a while. You have been through much today. A short rest will help you regain your strength and mental clarity." Sukja skillfully played into exactly why Archangel would want to rest under the circumstances. "I will leave you for a short time." With that, Sukja stood up and headed for the main entrance. He turned back to Archangel. "If you need me, press this comm button – it is a direct link to my chambers down the hall." Sukja was somewhat surprised that Archangel looked over to see where the button was. A good sign. With that, he left ensuring the door locked behind him. He would be monitoring Archangel closely from his own chambers.
Once Sukja left, Warren sucked in a deep breath. It seemed he had been taking very shallow breaths and was now somewhat lightheaded. As cloudy as his thinking was, it was clear enough to know they would be watching him. 'Play the dumb Human and maybe I'll learn something useful.'
After all his years of battle, it took a lot to shock Warren, but the situation hitting where he was most vulnerable. It dredged up old traumas and fears that he likely had never truly resolved, especially regarding Apocalypse. In fact, he knew that was the case as much of that horrifying episode he had repressed and stuff down deep inside. As such, he was likely reacting differently and more intensely than most of his fellow X-men would. He'd have to figure out the best way for him to deal with the current predicament, not how someone else would handle it.
With the lightheadedness passing, he stood – and very nearly collapsed. Grabbing the table prevented him from ending up on the floor. 'Steady, flyboy. You're obviously more spent than you realized. And maybe in shock. Perhaps resting is a good idea. Help to think more clearly.'
Warren was well versed in both physical and psychological trauma, but that knowledge doesn't lessen the impacts – only tells you how to deal with them. Training told him that since he was not in immediate danger he should give his body and mind a chance to recover. In doing so, he'd be better equipped to deal whatever might come next.
Once he felt his knees where not going to fail again, he headed toward the large upholstered bench beneath the windows that ran the entire length of the chamber. Outside the window, star trails sped by telling him they were traveling at faster-than-light (FTL) speed. That made his heart fall. He really was alone.
Reaching the window seat, he laid down facing the room. The seat was deep enough for two to sit side-by-side, so there was plenty of room for his wings. He'd take a few minutes to close his eyes and shake off the lingering dizziness.
On the viewscreen, Ztar watched his trophy fall quickly asleep. Such perfection! With sleep, the scowl and shock from the day's event dissipated. What remained was flawless beauty…unsurpassed exquisiteness. His body already ached to be with the wondrous creature. However, Ztar was nothing if not methodical and disciplined. He would wait until Sukja had readied the Human. And Sukja knew Ztar's patience had severe limits.
Sukja also sat watching Ztar's captive. He was relieved that Archangel slept. It would help his body cleanse itself of the many hormones and chemicals that had built up in his system that made him less predictable and more volatile. It would not serve well if Archangel was violent when Ztar visited.
###
Warren woke with a start and was instantly confused about his surroundings. Unfamiliar room, unfamiliar sensations. He sat upright with a jerk.
'Where?' his mind sought desperately. Then like a shockwave, everything came crashing back. The meeting with Charize, holding the Shi'ar's neck in a lock, Xavier's abandonment, the presentation to the Emperor, those words Ztar spoke before leaving the throne room…
Warren groaned and buried his face in his hands, trying to deny reality. "No o-o!" he cried out in a choked voice. Suddenly, he was freezing and shaking uncontrollably, pulling wings tight to his body for warmth and comfort.
'This can't be real. Can't! Oh god, what now? You're screwed, Worthington,' his heart pounded. 'Fucked over and screwed!' His mind raced faster than his heartbeat. 'What Ztar said – no way! Won't happen. I won't let it. Sick and twisted!' Then thoughts turned to the X-men. 'The Prof wouldn't let them have me. He was just leading them on. That's it! They'll come for me. Scott and the others – they won't abandon me. Just have to hang in there…' he latched onto that hope like a life preserver.
Concentrating on his breathing, he slowed it from its frantic, shallow gulps to steady, rhythmic inhales and exhales. Gradually, he quieted. The shaking ceased. His heart rate dropped. As he forced himself to calm, the disassociation from earlier reasserted itself.
The sensor chimed and Sukja turned toward the viewscreen – the Human was awake. He watched in admiration as Archangel sat on the bed to collect himself. That trait would serve Archangel well. Soon it would be time for Sukja to rejoin Archangel, but he'd give the man a few minutes alone first.
Warren felt strong enough to leave the window seat. The first business at hand was a visit to the bathroom. It was roomy with a large, glass-enclosed shower on one side, vanity in the center, and the toilet on the opposite side. Having relieved himself and splashed cold water on his face, he felt steadier.
He ventured around the room and spied the computer portal Sukja referred to earlier. It was one of the few things he remembered from the alien's ramblings. Although he recalled the man had spoken for a while, Warren couldn't remember much of what he'd said. 'Shock at work,' he told himself.
The chambers were rectangular; its decor the picture of understated elegance. 'What did they do, hire a Human decorator?' he thought sarcastically. It resembled a showroom display, complete with elegant upholstery and other lush fabrics, fine furniture, artwork, and accessories. But everything had a distinct otherworldly look about it.
An open area in the center of the suite apparently served as bedroom, dining room, and sitting area. The bed sat adjacent to the bathroom and beneath the wall of the windows. Next to the foot of the bed was the window seat. Opposite the bed and window wall were the sitting and dining areas with the main entrance to the chambers located in-between.
Just for the heck of it, Warren had to try the main entrance door control. Just as he knew, it did not respond. On the opposite end of the room from the bath were the kitchen facilities with another door. To where? He tried to activate it without response. He assumed he'd find out sooner or later where it led.
He walked over to the dining table and drank the second glass of water Sukja had gotten him earlier. Instant queasiness was his reward. At that moment, a tone sounded from the direction of main entrance startling him. The door slid open to reveal Sukja. Warren stiffened.
"Greetings, Archangel," Sukja said warmly as he entered. Then quickly, "I promise you, there will come a time when I will not simply enter without your permission and this door will not be locked. We will know when that time comes."
Warren simply eyed the alien without comment. For now, he'd take in as much information as he could and reveal little himself. He'd do what was necessary to survive until the X-man came.
Sukja carried clothes in his arms. "These have been tailored specifically for you. There are enough here to start. More clothes will be sent up later."
'What the hell?' Warren shook his head. Custom-tailored clothes? It was too much to accept. He could only be dreaming. Or had gone insane.
Sukja walked toward the wardrobe closet that shared a wall with the bathroom, opened the door, and began putting the clothes in cubicle slots. He felt the Human's eyes on his back.
"A closet organizer! This is a bad dream!" The sound of his own voice jolted Warren – he hadn't intended to say anything aloud.
Sukja finished before turning and speaking. "Archangel, I assure you this is no dream. This is serious business. You play a vital role in safeguarding your planet as outlined in the Turzent/Earth Accord."
Warren's anger flared. "This is bullshit! I can't do what you want to me do. I won't! I don't give shit about your Accord. Let me go now or I start ripping off heads – yours first!" He took a couple threatening steps toward the alien. 'No way in hell am I cooperating with these Turzent assholes. Just wait until the X-men come – then they'll find out just how misguided their fucking Accord is.'
'Need to squelch this now,' Sukja told himself, not allowing Archangel's move intimidate him. He'd been down the same path with other hostile bedmates.
"It's not what I want that should matter to you; it's what Emperor Ztar wants. Your fate has been decided; there is no choice in the matter. You will do as he commands. That is your new reality no matter how much you wish otherwise or try to deny."
"Like hell it is! I don't give a damn what that asshole wants. This is insane!"
"Do not test our Emperor. He will do as he has promised if you defy him. Your world will be crushed like dozens of others that resisted his rule. Earth will become a labor planet. The lowest of the low." Sukja paused for effect. He wanted there to be no doubt in the Human's mind about the price of non-compliance. "Is that what you want? Will you accept that as the price of rebellion? For in the end, Ztar would still have you and the Earth enslaved."
The alien stood his ground with an air of cool confidence. The response was firm and unyielding, and every word cut through Warren like a blade of ice. All he wanted to do was start bashing alien heads, but the words of the Accord loomed like an ax over his own. What if he fought back and the aliens followed through on their threat? What if he got people killed?
'Shit! If this is real – if it's all true...' The story was the same from everyone – the Shi'ar, Xavier, the Turzents, and from the alien in front of him. Earth's future rested on his shoulders. What he'd read in the Accord made it clear – submit or Earth was lost. It did not look good.
Archangel was visibly shaken by the blunt summary of his situation. Sukja watched closely as the man sat down on the window seat, clearly dispirited.
"In my world, we believe there are always options." Warren grasped at straws. There were always options; Xavier had taught him that from the very beginning. Sometimes those options are hard to see at first. Sometimes you have to create your own. And sometimes, the choices may not be very desirable. But no matter what, there are always options.
"This is not Earth. This is your world now – the Turzent Empire and Ztar. Here you have only those options granted by the Emperor. He has granted you two: you submit to him or the Earth will submit to him. Your choice, Archangel."
Warren did not speak for a long time. He focused again on breathing with desperate effort. His choices were decidedly leaning toward the undesirable.
'Fuck this alien! Fuck Ztar,' Warren's stomach flopped at his own words. 'God, if I've got this right, that's exactly what's going to happen. Going to be sick!' He sucked in air to suppress the nausea. 'Don't think about. Just handle things as they come. Stay in control!' he drew in another deep breath. 'Focus, X-man. Not a lot of choices right now, but that could change. Don't do anything stupid that might put Earth at risk.' he warned himself. 'Can't let Earth fall to these savages…couldn't live with that.'
Warren focused on steadying his breathing and maintaining control of runaway thoughts and emotions. 'Perhaps when there's no way out, you head directly into the fire. God, help me!' Then he braced for what he didn't want to ask, but had to.
"What happens next?"
"I think a shower is in order."
Warren had to admit he probably didn't smell the best.
But before Warren got to the bathroom, the chamber entrance slid open without warning. A crewmember strode in with authority, possibly high-ranking if Warren had to guess by the style of uniform. Yet another species. The face was fundamentally humanoid in structure with all the standard parts in the typical places, but with reptilian qualities. The nose and mouth area was more snouted, the reddish-brown eyes had slitted pupils, and the holes in the sides of the head inferred ears. Its skin was a dark brownish gray and with the look of thick, crinkled hide. It was not readily apparent if the alien was male or female. The hands had four fingers, one being opposable, each ending with a blunted claw. In those hands were devices that like their handler weren't obvious as to nature.
"Arrchangel, I prresssume," the alien greeted in a heavily accented voice that elongated certain sounds. Without waiting for a response, he waved at a chair. "Sssit. Thisss ssshould only take a couple minutesss."
Warren looked at the alien, then to Sukja, then back to the intruder. "What will only take a few minutes?"
"My apologies, Archangel, I wasn't informed that anyone from medical was on their way up," Sukja replied with a warning look to the brusque crewmember.
The medic tipped his longish chin in what Warren interpreted as an indignant gesture. "The exxxamination isss rroutine, asss you arre well awarre. Afterr ssso many yearrsss, I thought we werre passst the need to announccce myssself."
Warren smirked internally. 'Zing!'
Sukja didn't flinch, which Warren equally admired. "Proceed." The word was very much in command tone.
The medic gestured with some impatience for Warren to sit on a lounge area chair.
Warren stayed rooted in place, crossing his arms. "What are you going to do?"
The alien huffed and turned sharply back to the Sukja. "Deal with yourr charrge. I have otherr dutiesss needing my attention and don't have time for uncooperrative patientsss."
A slow burn began in Warren's gut. "Talk to me, not him," he snapped verbally and with wings to emphasize his displeasure. "Tell me what this exam is about."
With a visual exam that had nothing to do with medical evaluation and everything to do with measuring Warren up, what passed for an eyebrow rose up. "Verry well, Arrchangel." Turning toward Sukja, the alien continued. "The Emperorr finally chossse a companion with ssspunk. About time. Betterr suitsss the man, don't you agrree?"
Warren saw no reason to keep a scowl from his face. Then he saw a slight smirk upturn one corner of Sukja's mouth, suggesting the gruff demeanor was a calculated prodding. Whether it was a solo or joint effort, he had no way of knowing. He deepened the frown.
"Perhaps introductions are in order," Sukja suggested, dodging the question.
The medic gestured with a hand that Warren read as approval. "Indeed. Arrchangel, I am Physssicccian Dazjarrdentiz and am Lead Medical Officccerr for the Mi-Larrtui. The crrew callsss me Physssicccian Daz. Easssierr. Now, what we need to do today isss a thorrough ssscan for contagionsss and pathogensss for two reasonsss – to prrotect usss from you and you from usss. The daysss we ssspent in yourr home sssyssstem gave me and my ssstaff time to evaluate the common micrroorrganisssmsss native to yourr worrld, asss well asss generral Human physssiology."
"I have a unique physiology that can handle most anything."
The alien tilted its head. "Yesss, we deterrmined that in the generral ssscansss taken when you firrssst boarrded. While assspectsss of yourr physssiology fall outssside the apparrent norrm for yourr ssspeccciesss, you arre ssstill Human. I'm awarre of yourr imprressssive rregenerrative abilitiesss and immune sssyssstem, but you arre outssside yourr naturral envirronment and I'd rrather not take chancccesss. Therre arre ssseveral inoculationsss rrequirred to prrotect you from contagionsss too forreign forr yourr immune defensssesss to handle no matterr how enhanccced they may be."
"The Shi'ar inoculated me before I even stepped foot on this ship."
"Underrssstood. Howeverr, asss much asss I am imprresssed with the Ssshi'ar, they arre not from thisss galaxxxy and I will not entrussst my patient'sss wellbeing to visssiting physssiccciansss. Now, if we could prroccceed with the exxxamination, I'd like to ensssurre you rremain in good health while in my carre." The medic produced what could only be a smile on the otherwise fairly rigid face.
"Seems reasonable. Will this prevent me from carrying anything back to Earth when I return?" He shot a quick glance toward Sukja to spot any reaction to the inference. Nothing. The medic likewise seemed unfazed.
"Arrchangel, therre arre few guarranteesss in medicccine when it comesss to crosss-ssspeccciesss contamination, but what we do today ssshould rreduccce that chanccce to a very manageable level. Coupled with the auto-decontamination that occurrsss within trransssport ssshuttlesss and chanccces arre furrther rreduccced." Daz and Sukja exchanged quick glances. "Ssshould you leave thisss ssship in a trransssporrt not ssso equipped, acccidental contamination becomesss a higherr prrobability." With a sweep of a hand toward a chair, the doctor prompted Warren to sit.
'No sense protesting if it helps protect Earth,' he concluded and dropped the defiant attitude. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled, not wanting to appear too compliant.
As promised, the examination and inoculations took less than five minutes and Physician Daz was gone. Warren then headed to the shower, which Sukja had turned on while the medic worked.
Warren didn't shower for anyone's benefit but his own. However, the decision to comply didn't make the act feel any less servile. But he bit back the distaste in favor of playing along for the time being. He made the shower quick, kept feathers as dry as possible, and on focused thoughts of the immediate and not on imaginings of far more distasteful acts.
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A/N: Don't forget to let me know your posting rate preference. Thanks for reading!
