2
Doctor Surnen Syrzon, Science Bay, Medical Unit, The Colony
The organism moving beneath the microscope twisted and stretched, completely engulfing the healthy Prillon cell floating in the growth medium next to it. Something so tiny, so fascinating, was making warriors sick. It wasn’t killing my patients, but the infection was incapacitating strong fighters in their prime. It was my job to identify it, understand it and eradicate it. Not just for here on The Colony, but throughout the Coalition. I was almost there.
“Dr. Surnen? You’re needed in transport two.” Captain Trax stood at the entrance to my laboratory. He was my chosen second—should I ever be lucky enough to be matched to a female of my own—and a trusted friend. He was also prone to overreaction, his warrior instincts making every matter urgent. He’d grown up on a battleship, been fighting since he was old enough to hold a blaster, and he made decisions in seconds that I preferred to contemplate for a bit longer.
I was a doctor, a researcher. We both followed protocol to the letter—I, as a scientist, he as a ruthless fighter—believing that regulations were what kept us all safe. But the frequent trips I’d been taking to Transport Two to check incoming medical supplies were growing tiresome. I was busy and too close to finalizing the treatment serum that would end this latest sickness to divert my time.
My gaze locked to the infectious cell as it continued devouring the now weakened Prillon cell, I didn’t bother lifting my head to respond to Trax. Adding a drop of fluid to the slide, I watched as my serum sample killed the bacteria. I grinned. “Send one of the techs. I’m busy.”
His deep exhale was the only indication of his frustration with me. “Surnen, don’t be an ass.” And his tone. And word choice. “Now. Now would be good.”
“Still busy.” I had two Prillon warriors in ReGen pods and half a dozen more quarantined in their quarters. Someone else could check off inventory lists.
I expected Trax to leave, to do as I’d requested and drag one of the medical officers down to inspect the new shipment. Instead he stepped farther into the room. “Are you refusing to accompany me to Transport Two?”
“Yes, I fucking am,” I snapped. “Go away. I’ve got eight warriors down with this gods’ damned infection already, and I’m finalizing the treatment. As I said, I’m busy. I have more important things to do than inspect the latest shipment to come in.”
“Excellent.” His happiness stirred my curiosity, and I lifted my chin to look at him over the medical equipment.
“I’m glad you are pleased.” I cocked my head toward the door. “Now get out.”
“Dr. Surnen of Prillon Prime, as you have refused to arrive at transport to greet your new mate, I officially request the rights and privileges of Primary Male be transferred to me. Computer, please make note of the date and time of this request.”
A smooth, feminine voice emanated from a speaker near the door. “Confirmed, Captain Trax. Your request has been processed and sent to Prillon Prime for formal consideration.”
“What?” What the fuck had he just said?
“Let me know when you are finished playing with your toys, Surnen. You can be my second. I’ll be taking care of our female while you work. Don’t worry about her safety or happiness. I will make sure she is claimed and protected by a Prillon collar and tend to all her needs while you save the universe.”
With those final words, he bowed formally, turned on his heel and left me behind my workbench, jaw slack.
What?
My mind stirred slowly. When I worked, every thought, feeling and emotion I had came into sharp focus on the task at hand. The serum sample I’d made could eliminate the need to use ReGen pods to cure the warriors. A single dose of the serum should act as a preventative to further infections. The information and the treatment I would perfect would be uploaded to the Coalition Fleet’s medical database and disseminated to the Fleet to assist other warriors who may have human females for brides. As Earth was the only planet that appeared to have females willing to accept the damaged males on The Colony as mates, finding a cure was of paramount importance as the bacteria was a human disease that had adapted to its new environment: nonhumans on The Colony.
With so many planets constantly interacting, the struggle to contain new strains of disease kept me well occupied and was a constant battle within the Coalition Fleet, one I excelled at winning.
I battled what I could fight, using my intellect and ability to focus to cure diseases from all over the galaxy. Other worlds often sent me samples of new organisms and diseases, seeking assistance in understanding and treating them. I would not rot away on this planet feeling sorry for myself. I refused.
I’d spent enough time mourning the deaths of my parents due to my mother’s rebellious nature and my two fathers’ lack of desire to control her. She’d been fun. I would admit that. My mother had lived life like there was no tomorrow and thrown caution—and regulation—to the stars. They’d all died for it, for my fathers had given in to her every whim.
Because my parents broke Coalition Fleet protocols, I’d become an orphan at twelve. Determined not to allow any others to make the same mistakes or suffer the same consequences, I’d joined the medical job training system on Prillon Prime to learn how to save others. I had no family, few friends, and once I’d been captured and contaminated by the Hive, I knew I never would.
Routine. Purpose. Training. Rules. Regulations. Order. Everything my mother had hated with a fiery passion had been the only things capable of saving me.
I had work to do. Important work. Except…
Surely Trax had been joking about the arrival of a mate.
The arrival of a female match for me was impossible. Fucking impossible. I had taken the matching test, so there was a statistical chance, yet I’d given up hope of having an Interstellar Bride years ago. Years.
Still…
“Comms,” I called out. “This is Medical. Connect me to Transport Two.”
“Connected, Doctor,” the comm system replied. Through the speaker I could hear voices. Too many voices for a standard medical supply transport.
“This is Dr. Surnen.”
“Surnen? This is Rachel. What the hell are you doing? Why aren’t you down here? Hurry up!” The human female was mated to the governor of Base 3 and his second, Captain Ryston. We had not been friendly when she’d first arrived on The Colony. Far from it. But the delivery of her child had earned me her forgiveness for following protocol upon her arrival and insisting on medical exams that she had not wanted.
“Oh my God, this is so exciting. I can’t wait to meet her!”
That voice belonged to another human female, Lindsey, if I weren’t mistaken. She’d arrived and brought her mother and young son to The Colony and taken an Everian Hunter as her mate. I had delivered her new child as well. I was becoming an obstetrician as much as a bacteriologist.
“What
