Disclaimer: Aliens can't own Twilight.
9
Terra, London, 2620
Astra woke easily just as the sun was rising. It had always been a particular talent of hers; no matter what country she was in or what time zone she had just escaped from, her biological clock woke her with the sun. She lays on the gel-bed for a moment longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of a bed beneath her back – a new experience. After a few more lingering moments, she reluctantly rises, carefully pulling her blanket over the bed, enjoying the trite tidiness.
Her hands brush against the short white nightshirt she wore, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, grazing against the top of her thighs. The first order of business was to find the correct clothing in her Replicator catalogue.
While the Federation Academy didn't have a set uniform, per say, they did have a recommended style for students. Especially on class days. Astra moves over to the wall-mounted com-unit, flicking the holo screen on and flipping through that specific collection; coming across one of the styles that she finds agreeable, Astra allows the Replicator to whir as she moves to the sonic-shower, eager to get the feeling of the sickbay off her skin. She had not showered the night before, too tired to do much more than find regulation sleepwear and fall into an easy, dreamless slumber.
Her skin fresh and smooth, long dark hair shining, Astra takes the creamy off-white, almost light grey, fabric off the Replicator nook. The dress is a high collar, brushing under her chin, the sleeves falling under her elbow, the relaxed fabric of the hem brushing against her knees; the bright white stitching is visible, a bare contrast to the light fabric. She wears her chest protector over the dress, zipping the silver tightly, slipping her dark chocolate cloak on over her clothes, her feet easily fitting into the boots she'd Replicated the day before. From her desk, she takes the pocket-com and her thin silver Pad, tucking both into the inner pocket of her cloak. She allows her hair free, the naturally straight strands falling on either side of her shoulders.
Her eyes dart to her wall-mounted com, taking the time, mind recalling the configuration of her schedule. She had time for breakfast, if she wanted. Astra wasn't in the habit of taking breakfast and didn't feel particularly hungry right now. But her schedule was rather lengthy and this would be her first day, so she wasn't sure when she would get the time to eat again, until later in the evening, of course. Back at the Replicator, Astra flips through the food catalogue, selecting a Twi'lek fruit that was similar to a Terran apple – a favorite of Astra's, because of how salty and sweet the fruit tasted and because of how clean it was to eat. It was also very filling and easy to carry. She placed the fruit into her other cloak pocket.
Stepping out of her room, she notes that her roommates are already gone, which makes sense given how demanding their schedules were as third year students. The third year students at the Federation Academy had both a heavy load of classes and physical endurance requirements to meet each day; the work was rigorous, tough, designed to weed out those who were unwilling to work for their place in the Federation.
Astra welcomes the solitude, feeling a need to gather her thoughts as she slowly migrates from her dorm to the hallway, down the stairs and into the early morning. Unlike the previous night, the Academy was bustling with activity, students rushing in one way or the other, several of which were aliens that Astra was familiar with seeing on her travels. It was comforting, for her, to see the familiar facial structures, the outlandish colors of skin, the wider eyes – it made the Academy feel more like home. She hardly garners any odd looks, though she does seem to be the only student wearing a cloak; another student with dark green skin is wearing barely any clothing, the hole-cut-outs in her bright yellow uniform failing to leave much to the imagination, just as many Orions dressed.
Everyone defined their own normal.
She liked that.
Astra takes a slow pace to the tall white building near the back of the large square campus, the building where most classes took place. From what she understood, a large gymnasium was located underneath this building, including a temperature-regulated pool; the first floor was a main lobby of sorts with a small mess hall filled with Replicators; the few floors were dedicated to various labs; several floors above that were the large classrooms filled with chairs upon chairs; and at the very top, the offices of the teachers. Her first classes would be somewhere in the middle floors of the skyscraper, Advanced Xenolinguistics and Advanced Phonology, both of which she would have daily – after a short break in the middle of the day, she would also take Sub-Space Engineering, then Computer Science, finishing the day with Hand-to-Hand Combat, which she was only partially looking forward to. Her placement tests had landed her in both beginner classes, such as engineering, moderate classes like computers, and advanced linguistic classes – and, as part of regulation, her technical status as a first year student at the Academy landed her in a combat class.
She didn't feel like she had any particular physical ability that indicated success in that class, aside from her running speed. She hoped she would be able to keep up.
Astra is forced to take the turbolift, given that her classroom is somewhere on the 20th floor of the building – she suffers through the lightheadedness silently. The classroom is halfway filled by the time she finds it and she chooses the first seat she sees, which happens to be near the middle of the room in the front row; she sits between two Terrans, one of which appears to be albino. Oddly enough, none of the students in the classroom have their Pads out.
The albino Terran beside her leans forward. "You're new," he says. "I'm Alec."
"Astra," she replies, carefully arranging her cloak to cover her dress and knees – the classroom was a bit chilly.
"Mid-semester transfers are rare," he states conversationally. "But you wouldn't be in this class unless you had talent, so I'll help you out. Pads are forbidden in this classroom."
"Forbidden? That's a strong word."
Alec sighs, light eyes rolling upwards, white-blond hair falling over his forehead. Albinos were no longer as rare on Terran as they were once before, hundreds of years ago; almost a whole sixth of the Terran population was either albino or carried the gene mutation forward. "The Professor is an odd guy, insists that you don't need to take notes to learn a language."
That, I can agree with. For an entirely different reason, of course.
"Perhaps he's right," Astra responds after a beat. "Language is all about interaction."
Alec eyes her, a thin smirk forming on his pale face. "Yeah, that's true, I guess. I'm only in this class because I'm on the command track and I need to know the basics. What track are you on?"
"Xenolinguistic."
"Ah, the new track, huh? Only a few Academy students are in that one. Guess the Admiralty realized that we have to have better communication on the starships. Why are you here mid-semester, though?"
Astra hesitates with her answer. She wasn't ashamed of being a gypsy – she wore the cloak proudly, finding no reason to hide – but she wasn't sure that she wanted to be blunt and tell anybody she was a gypsy. Discrimination against the wind-followers, against the gypsies, was still strong. "I was recruited in Egypt," she says finally, intent on bending the truth. "I ran into a Captain."
Alec nods sagely. "Spontaneous recruitment. You must be something special then. How many languages do you speak?"
Again, Astra hesitates. "A few."
Alec smiles, a certain tilt to his pale brows giving away his intentions. "You know, I could use a tutor-"
"Cadets, be seated," a deep, far too familiar voice orders tonelessly.
Astra's eyes, a startling light blue, snap to the tall, imposing, irritatingly attractive form of Lieutenant Commander Khai.
Her Professor, apparently. I knew I should have checked my schedule again. She didn't like surprises and this was certainly a surprise.
Professor Khai, dressed in a pristine pressed charcoal uniform, the uniform of the teaching staff, stands in the exact middle of the room, shoulder straight. To Astra's moderate disgruntlement, he is standing not ten feet away from her. Tomorrow, I'm sitting in the back.
Cadets scramble to sit down, one tripping over his own feet in his hurry; once all of the students are seated, Khai launches right into a lecture of the Prix'arie language. Until that moment, Astra hadn't noticed how bleak his voice was in Standard and Giidas, even Gidal'su failing to bring any inflection into his voice; but in Prix'arie, a language which used lilting trills in musical arrangements, his deep tone took on something similar to emotion.
She had the notion that he sounded much more attractive speaking with tone than without it, even if his normal register, impressively intimidating, was a dangerous attraction all it's own.
Though Astra knew Prix'arie – speaking, writing, reading, the nuance of dialects – it was entirely different understanding the language. Khai's lecture was very detailed, because not only did he teach the words, he gave a history behind the words. He brought more life to learning a language, to learning an entire race of beings, that Astra ever through possible.
Grudgingly, she enjoyed his class. And his next one, which took place in the same room – and, if anything, Advanced Phonology was even more interesting. This time, he tackled the brutal syllables of the Me'atalia language. And still, no matter the degree of engagement in the Cadets, not one took out their Pad for notes.
Professor Khai made a point of not looking directly at any of his students; he did not move; his voice did not waver; he did not once stop talking until, right as the Phonology class ended and he assigned the homework, he allowed Cadets to ask questions. To Astra's slightly horrified amusement, if a Cadet asked a question about material that Khai felt was clear from his lecture, he simply replied with, "Pay more attention next session, Cadet", and moved on.
Clearly, Astra had underestimated the gravity of his lack of manners. He was anti-social in the extreme, but intelligent enough to get away with it. She now saw his behavior in Egypt in a different light – she now understood it. It wasn't that he just didn't understand the li'lute – he simply didn't understand Terran behavior.
He was impervious to it all.
That was unsettling. He was young, attractive, intelligent and devoid of life. Yes. Unsettling.
Along with the rest of the Cadets, Astra filters out of the room, opting to take the stairs down to her next class, two floors below.
If her linguistic courses were easy, her engineering course was almost over her head. Her instructor was an older Falleen, a race of very symmetrical humanoid reptilians. His tongue only lisped on words beginning with s, which was impressive to Astra. She knew that she would need a bit of a crash course from Rosy if she was going to keep up in this class, even if it was a beginners – Astra had little to no idea of what certain tools were called, which put her behind. She was sure that with a little help, she would be able to keep up just fine.
Computer Science, on the other hand, was much easier – Astra had always been good with computers, after all, and this class was more about programming than anything else. For a gypsy, hacking into a computer was something taught before the age of ten.
Still, by the time she made it to the short break after the Computer Science class, she was starved, munching on the Twi'lek apple eagerly as she tapped on the screen of her Pad, trying to locate Professor Khai's office.
Sometime during the night, she decided that perhaps she did need some help controlling her brain waves. It seemed like the older she got, the worse her language-learning episodes would be; last night, by far, was the worst.
By the time she uses the turbolift to reach Khai's office, she only has fifteen minutes before she needs to be below ground in the gym for her next class. Astra resolves to make this as quick as possible.
As she expected, Professor Khai is sitting stiffly behind his desk, eyes riveted on a Pad, which he seems to be grading; a tall mug of fragrant tea is the only other object on this desk.
Steel eyes look up as she enters the room and Khai's heart stutters for .4 seconds. Interesting.
Quickly, he greedily inhales her scent, analyzing it before he can stop himself, which is a most odd behavior. He had not been surprised to see her in his classes earlier, but he did not expect the gypsy girl to be in his office.
She still reminded him of poetry and honey and tea.
He is most intrigued by the length of her straight, dark hair – had it been that long before? It was very shiny, distractingly so.
Though her posture indicates that she is submissive, her expression is challenging, defiant, almost glaring. Such contradicting emotions.
She does not wait for Khai to speak.
"Professor, my roommates tell me that you carried me to the infirmary last night."
Khai nods – indeed, he did, and he was rather…pleased to see that she looked much better today, despite the long day of classes.
"Thank you," Astra says gently. Then, to Khai's confusion, her tone becomes almost mocking. "It almost makes up for tackling me in the desert."
One of his brows twitch.
Astra feels a short explosion of victory before she smooths her face out, awaiting his reply, if he had one.
Khai, on the other hand, is a bit bewildered. What an odd time to bring up that event. He didn't know what to say.
Astra did. "You don't plan on tackling me again if I have a seat, do you?"
His eyes flash orange with confusion, a barely-there tinge behind grey steel. "I assure you, Cadet, that tackling you in my office would be most illogical. There is not enough space for such an activity."
Astra struggles not to roll her eyes as she moves further into the room, sitting own in one of the thin, straight-backed chairs in his office. He obviously doesn't understand teasing, either.
Khai flips his Pad off, done grading papers for the moment. He very rarely gave anyone his full attention, especially Cadets who had yet to earn a place in the Federation, but for her he made illogical exception. She would always have his full attention – very much so against his will.
Noticing that his posture had changed, becoming more direct towards her, Astra locks her eyes with him, determination in the set of her chin.
For a moment, he is stunned by the brilliant, almost electric cobalt blue of her exotically tilted eyes, rendered mute by the fierce directness in her gaze. The color was so pleasing against her lily-white skin and brought out the light brown freckles over her nose.
"Doctor Carl informed me that brain swelling due to a spike in very active brain waves was the cause of my…episode from last night. He suggested I ask you about meditation rituals in order to regulate my brain waves."
Khai is distantly relieved that there was a medical reason for her behavior the previous night but the black emotions she inspired in him roared to life in spite of the relief. Her brain waves were too active, which only lent more evidence to the mix of her heritage – eyes, nails, brain waves. Still, the black emotions swirled, forcing Khai to lock his muscles, his entire body resisting the urge to be closer to her, to inhale and analyze her scent from the spot right below her ear.
She indicated that she was better and it wasn't enough for Khai.
Most displeasing. Illogical.
"There are several books on the subject in the campus library," Khai offers after a too-long pause.
He is evading her subtle suggestion.
And she, the gypsy girl of unknown origins, completely ignores his silent plea. "I would like you to instruct me, at least once, so that I learn properly."
Khai sighs. Her request is very logical; the people of Giidas had, for a very long time, been masters of meditation. In the infancy of their race, the emotions in the Giidas people were visceral, often too strong to control; there were many unnecessary deaths until, as a people, they discovered ways to control those emotional outbursts. Because of the intense meditations, the people of Giidas completely suppressed the physiological change in eye color in response to particular emotions – and given Khai's superior genetics, his own steel eye color was a sign of near-perfect control over his emotions.
At least, he thought he had near-perfect control. True, he had struggled during his puberty and following adolescence, but since arriving on Terra, his control had been unmatched by any Giidas he met.
Until her that is. He recalls each of the specific times where he had felt his eye color shift and each had been because of this gypsy girl. Unsatisfactory.
Warring with his black emotions were others that rioted against the girl, emotions that cast blame on his wavering control because she dared to live. She threatened his status.
And she inspired his perfection. The black emotions brought forth notions that he had to be stronger, faster, smarter – and that if he was more, he would be able to protect her better.
Khai feels the corners of his lips turn down, just slightly. A millimeter of movement. "I have room in my schedule each Saturday at three, for one hour. If you require my assistance still, please come to my office at that time."
The words, reluctant as they are, spark a flash of complete satisfaction in Khai's black emotions.
Astra smiles widely, easily showing off a row of straight, white teeth; Khai's impeccable eyesight catches the .3 millimeter sharpness of her incisors, a trait of the several alien species and most notably his own.
Again, the notion that she is somehow Giidas enters his mind and lingers. She appears very Terran, very human, as did the Giidas people – yet she also displayed the subtle differences between the species. She could be both, he muses silently as she thanks him, standing. Tall enough but her height is entirely human.
The gypsy girl, Astra, bids him an aloof farewell, indicating that she would see him again in class the next day, to which Khai's swirling emotions pulsed at before fading along with her presence.
Alone again in his office, Khai frowns more deeply – an entire centimeter of movement around his mouth, engaging 23 different muscles.
If she is both Terran and Giidas, why is she gypsy?
The question went unanswered.
Too many variables were left out; Khai could not puzzle any thing together until he had more clues. For a moment, he considered delving into her mindscape, searching through her earliest memories to find the answer, certain that she had the resolution to the problem hidden within her, yet out of everyone's sight.
The thought was gone as soon as it came. It was illogical to care that much about her origins, especially since he was a Lieutenant Commander and she, a Cadet – it would be most inappropriate to meld with her mind, even more so because it would create a connection between them that was far to intimate for strangers.
As the light of the sun through the large window of his office paints his white walls orange and yellow, Khai loses time, contemplating the repercussions of agreeing to her proposal – the consequences of teaching her to meditate in a quiet, private environment were unpredictable.
Though he was loathe to admit it, he wasn't sure his control would hold – the black emotions were far too strong.
This is most unacceptable.
A/N: Yes! If you caught it, I did use two Star Wars aliens in this chapter: the Twi'lek and the Falleen, both of which can be found on the Wookiepedia (Star Wars Wiki). And, yeah, Orions from Star Trek made it here, too. I'm feeling lazy and tired today lol Yep, here I am, writing a sci-fi, combining the aliens of the two largest franchises in the world. I've got skillz.
Shout out to the first 10 reviews of the last chapter (plus guests) –
Merylin - Updates will probably slow down to a couple times a week - I have finals in 2 weeks lol
Debslmac - :D
Flavia Ribeiro – Information packed is almost better than action packed!
RainDanceTammy – MMhmm, he is damn sexy! Lol
HarbouringLies – Captivating is what I aim for!
Twilight Rocker 12 – lol Yeah, she is slightly….
Siobhan Whitlock – Jealous! Tell me about his muscles, that Man of Steel….lol Nope, she's not a "plant"!
Night script – God, you are so freakin' close!
yagalinus0420 – Hmm, Carl and Khai, BFFs? Lol
LunaDiSangue85 – Ah, De Nile isn't just a river…lol
FLOW LIZ – I give you more!
Superspecial shout out to the first review of the last chapter – YesMyRealNameIsBella – Aw, yeah, Bones in the films is so cool (and sort of cute)! And GOOD GOD are you close woman! You're just missing one super key detail that nobody has gotten yet! Aha, I must be getting better at hiding my twists!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot
