I appreciate the votes and comments. Again, I understand that this story will not be overly popular due to its very unique theme. That's okay. Understand that in this life there are all types of people. In this universe I have created that is even more heightened. It takes place 1000 years from now so, really, the norms of society have changed considerably. Plus with the addition of alien races of all varied shapes and forms, life in this alternate universe is truly very different from our own here and now. Hopefully, those of you that read this can perhaps do so with an open mind and begin to understand that everyone is different. What works for you may not work for someone else, but we all should respect each other's preferences and try not to force others to live as we deem fit or right.
Hope you all enjoy the next chapter, LH.
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Lucien. Get up. Time to go—Seth growled in his mind.
His eyes flew open. It was still dark since he had his lights set to activate only on command. Hot breath fanned his chest and his legs were tangled with...
Oh, God.
He teleported himself in a surge of power into the hygiene room. His legs almost gave out beneath him making him need to clutch the entrance to the hygiene unit to steady himself. Everything around him seemed to swirl and distort. He closed his eyes with a groan and muttered a curse under his breath. Running a rough hand through his tangled locks, Lucien staggered into the glass cylindrical unit. He slapped a hand against the console to activate the cleansing rays.
Blue light engulfed him immediately, head to toe. His hair, now clean and tangle-free, slid forward as he stared at his feet.
The scent of sex no longer surrounded him.
He didn't want to think about last night. His head pounded with the familiar headache he usually experienced after getting shit faced.
He took a strand of his hair between two fingers and frowned. The ends were already curling softly. It was thick and heavy, the weight of it keeping everything but the last few inches almost straight. He hated it—made him look like a fucking Barbie doll from behind. He should cut it.
Women loved his hair, though.
The fuzzy memory of hands fisting in it as he ravished plump lips made him shake his head. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping the thoughts of the night before from his mind.
Looking into the mirrored control panel, he stared at his stubbly face. His beard was as pale as the hair on his head, its color making it barely noticeable. Huffing out an exasperated breath, he hit the correct symbols on the panel to rid himself of his facial and body hair. He felt cleaner that way.
Lucien decided to deal with his long hair later when he figured out what he wanted to do with it.
Teleporting one of his uniforms on, he concentrated on the hangar and willed himself there as well.
The hygiene room melted away until the familiar metal and rubber scent of the hangar surrounded him. It was a monstrosity of soaring ceilings webbed with metal, like being inside the belly of a mechanical beast. Beneath his booted feet, the soft rubbery texture of the flooring cushioned his steps as he walked forward within a lighted path.
There were hundreds of transports lined up in concentric circles almost as far as the eye could see.
From what Lucien knew, Alpha 7 had become home to thousands of fallen, homeless reapers. Every day there were more. He'd lost track of the many new faces and names.
There were two rules though. No one entered without Devon's permission, and no one revealed Alpha 7's position, so that meant no bringing booty calls to the station.
He walked past his old viper to where Seth, Devon, and Ashriel stood.
Devon smiled, Seth watched Lucien with a blank expression, and Ashriel, as usual, just frowned, his black wings ruffling.
Lucien smirked at Ash. He really didn't like the reaper. He was a stuck-up, goody-two-shoes, who acted like he was better than everybody else.
As he drew closer, however, his attention was arrested by two rusted heaps of metal behind the trio.
He narrowed his eyes, his brain recognizing the contours of two space transports. Better yet, a pair of death traps, not even safe enough to take a piss on.
"What the fuck is that?" he finally asked standing next to his brother.
"Our rides," Devon answered.
Lucien looked at Devon. His un-identical twin looked dead serious. His bewildered gaze went back to the pile of garbage. "Do those things even fly?" Lucien snorted.
Seth scowled. "Of course. Natanael and I flew them personally all the way here."
Lucien strode past Ashriel to inspect the crafts. They were too big to be personal transports, but not large enough to be starcruisers.
Stopping in front of a boxy one, he let out a snort of amusement. He turned back to Devon, Seth, and Ashriel.
"This piece of shit looks like an Earth camper with wings," Lucien laughed with a jerk of his thumb over one shoulder, indicating the decrepit transport.
"That piece of shit is yours," Ashriel grinned with smug superiority, as he folded his beefy arms over a ridiculously massive chest.
Lucien's laughter stopped abruptly as he turned with a scowl to look at the battered hunk of junk again. He planted his fists on his hips and walked around it one more time.
At some point, the thing must've been a shiny silver. Now, it was dull grey, scored over with dents and scratches. It had rear rocket cones that were black, burnt to a crisp.
Lucien snorted. "Shit. What the fuck does this thing run on? Fuel?"
"You guessed it," Devon replied.
"Are you fucking kidding?" Lucien laughed again.
Seth rolled his eyes and huffed, "Look, it's a hybrid, and the guy that sold it to me told me he only fills the tank like once an Earth year."
"It runs on what kind of fuel?" Lucien demanded.
"Fossil," Ashriel informed with a little grimace. "Damned thing stinks like Lucifer's testicles."
Lucien rubbed his jaw. Maybe he could use his power to lift the rust off and restore the metal back to its original luster.
Remi suddenly appeared before him, holding his twins, one in each arm. "Say hello to Uncle Luke, boys."
The twins looked mostly like Rowie, down to the gleaming, bottomless black eyes. Their hair, on the other hand, was as deep blood-red as their father's—hair that stuck out of their heads like the corona of a sun.
"Well, if it isn't thing one and two," Lucien smirked.
One of them smiled at Lucien, the other sniffed at him and blurted, "hungry."
That made Lucien frown in confusion.
"Uncle Lucien isn't on the menu, Ky."
Lucien felt his eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "Menu?"
Remi grinned. "Row and I are weaning them off the vein juice."
As in blood—Lucien thought internally, staring warily at the little crimson-haired boy.
The child gave him a wolfish grin.
Well, hell. Two could play at that game.
Lucien bared his own fangs at the little brat and gave a low growl.
Ky's eyes went round as he threw his arms around his daddy's neck. The other twin scowled at Lucien and gave a little growl of his own.
Interesting.
"Simmer down," Remi ordered them.
Natanael, Abdiel, and Eriel arrived, talking and laughing boisterously.
Today Natanael's hair was deep purple at the roots and the rest red-orange.
All three reapers had the same black pants, knee-high boots and vest Ashriel wore. There were openings in the back for their wings.
Lucien turned away to investigate what would soon be his new home for the next day or so.
As far as he could tell, there were three hatches to gain entrance inside. Three ways in and out. Three hatches to guard if they needed to land in hostile territory.
He approached the hatch door on the right side of the craft and frowned at it, wondering how it activated.
Seth stepped up next to him with a pad small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
"You can open it with this. It's like a master key." Seth stroked a finger over the blank screen and it lit up blue. Lucien recognized Gruesh symbols. Good thing he knew Gruesh.
Seth tapped the pad a few times, entering a series of directives. "Here," he said holding the pad out for Lucien. "Take it."
Lucien took the pad, looking down at the screen that was pulsing red now. A beam of light flashed from the screen, even as it vibrated in his palm. "What the hell is it do—fuck," Lucien yelped when he felt something jab him between his thumb and forefinger.
He dropped the pad and stared at his bloodied hand. "What the fuck, Seth. That thing cut me."
Seth bent to retrieve the pad. "It was just registering you as a new user."
"How about giving me a heads up next time," he snapped.
"To get it to open you have to address it by its name." Seth's lips twitched, as if trying not to smile. "It's name is Sugar."
Lucien snorted, shaking his head. "Open up for your new daddy, Sugar."
Seth's eyes widened as the hatch slid open with a hiss.
"You shouldn't have identified yourself as daddy," he said as Lucien stepped inside the dimly lit craft.
About to ask why, his answer came in the form of a seductive feminine voice. "Welcome, daddy."
Lucien began to chuckle.
Lights came on, not very bright, but soft, homey. The air inside was cool, but not cold, and everything smelled clean. At least the interior was better than the exterior.
The inside was in tones of grey, from the very pale to almost black. Just like an Earth camper, it had a lounge area with charcoal-colored plush seats.
