Sigil Ch. 02

She was alone often on Pax, did well in solitude without a protector, but it was always a little dangerous to leave Quinn on her own.

Dangerous for others.

He'd observed her totally lose her composure only twice in the decades of their partnership, but it was enough to keep the Axirlan cautious.

In a temper, he had seen Quinn single handedly rip apart a freighter and everyone inside in a provoked psionic burst. And the human woman was very touchy about the handling of child slaves. When she discovered the Tessan boy's cryotube was still on Pax, she would not be happy. It could lead to complications.

Such reactions were the reason Que's people were superior. Emotions were dangerous.

It had taken the Axirlan years to tame her, to break her habit of simply taking whatever she wanted because she could. She had needed a purpose; he created one for her, and in turn her existence gave him purpose. Since the universe had aligned them, their lives had been enriched. He was fortunate to find a companion that did not seem to have the minuscule lifespan of a typical frail human. They had already shared almost a century of earth time together, though she had slept through several decades when it was necessary.

Yet even in her sleep there was something fulfilling in having her all to himself, vulnerable in cryo, where she had faith in him to watch over her until she could be trusted to control herself. A new landscape always helped, a new cycle far from the ones she fought to avoid.

Life on Pax was hard, it was uncomfortable; it was the perfect distraction for her, access to the byway important in case she felt they needed to flee. He'd lost her a few times in situations such as those. Of course he always found her; they were wired on the same wavelength. Sometimes she came willingly when he called. Other times it required a little - urging. Fortunately for him, the best way to pacify her was to mount her.

Six different times he'd had to shoot her first and take her as she was bleeding, when she was weakened, until her mind recognized him through the bloodlust and grew soothed. There was no other mating he had ever known like hers; sometimes it almost seemed he could feel what she offered beyond the sexual urge and physical gratification. She loved the aggression displayed by his species in coitus, never once questioned his methods, begged or commanded depending on her mood.

In her far more promiscuous days, he'd sat back and watched her experiment with a multitude of partners. It was always a beautiful show, but none made her sing no matter how rough they had been. They were all too weak, she was too strong. Others did not fulfill her in any capacity beyond transient physical pleasure.

Amongst his species, long term human companions were unheard of. They were too frail. But they could bear children and were sometimes kept for that purpose, which made her posing as a slave very believable. Yet the gods had never seen fit to grant him offspring with his human, no matter the offerings or prayers given. Que had never voiced this concern to her, but once he had laid the warmth of his palm over womb as he pumped his seed into her body and vocally asked his gods for a child.

The look on her face afterward... Que did not understand emotion, but he knew the expression for human heartbreak. His warrior had felt vulnerable. He'd inexplicitly weakened her when his role was to make her stronger. In that tick of time he thought he might comprehend the sensation of regret.

It had never happened again.

In the decades since, Que had ascertained certain topics about his companion were best understood by observation. She was sterile and she had not known until he'd put the realization of a long unfulfilled desire of his into her head. For a creature with so much power to be powerless in that very basic way, it led her to do some strange things. Her obsession with slave children, how she watched them, furtively saw to them as if he didn't notice was one such example. Quinn also went through cycles where she collected little trinkets, hanging things about to make her quarters appealing; often times such behavior a precursor to a loss of composure.

She would grow edgy, snappish, would confess to a craving to hunt far more than she already struggled with. Each time Que put her in cryostasis before she had a psionic explosion or mechanically went on the warpath again. A few years of monitored brainwaves and, once her system regulated, he would wake her and she would smile.

Que preferred her smiles to the frowns. The female's expressions were intriguing, but the smile was worth the effort to draw out. The sound of her laughter was also enjoyable, the shriek of her yelling far less pleasant; fortunately it was something she seldom directed at him.

After the twenty-five cycle interval he would be separated from her was complete, Que decided he would bring her a gift to earn a smile. Perhaps a pet or the colorful reproductive portions of a plant.