Alien Prince
CHAPTER ONE—PART FIVE: LORELEI VAUSS

The grandest ship in the federation armada had become a prison, and we-my parents and myself-its trepidatious prisoners. We snuck through its halls on silent haunches, like cats keeping to the shadows, even though much of our day was as normal as we were trying to make it seem. My mother and father didn't once shirk their duties to the Echelon; we relegated our plotting and scheming to the evening hours, huddled over supper and exchanging ideas in silent whispers. "I know how to fly a transport ship," my father offered, but my mother rolled her eyes.

"Please, Jack. The last time you flew one of those things was what? Thirty years ago?"

My father shrugged, abashed, and turned his attention to his bottle of beer. He used his napkin to wipe the condensation from the side of the glass. "I could still do it."

"The technology has changed so much," mom went on, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with her hand. She'd wounded his ego, and it showed.

"Not that much. And anyway, those vessels are absurdly expensive. They don't just throw 'em out and buy new ones." "Jack..."

"There has to be someone we can ask for help," I said, leaning back in my chair at the dining room table. My mother had served up a huge pot of spaghetti and meatballs, and I'd had two servings. I was ravenous, already. "Someone with...I don't know, money? If not know-how."

"But someone with money who isn't connected to the Mafarens," my dad said, rubbing thoughtfully at the salt and pepper bristles on his chin.

"That rules out just about everyone," mom said, chagrined. She rubbed at her eyes with her thumb and index finger, and I glanced between them, suddenly keenly aware of just how much stress this little endeavor was bringing into their lives. I heaved a sigh and shook my head.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, placing a hand on my belly. "I shouldn't be bringing you guys into this. It isn't fair."

"Nonsense," mom assured me, but I could see by the crease between her eyebrows that my summation that it was stressful was fair. "We want to help you."

"Of course we do," dad echoed. "And we'll do everything we can."

"Because you were right," mom went on. "It's not without its dangers, this pregnancy. There is no precedent for us to follow here, not really. We don't know what complications could arise."

"And it's about you, Lore. Not the science, not the project. We care about that-"

"Of course we do, but not half so much as we care about you and your safety and well-being."

Maybe it was the sudden influx of hormones, but I found myself a little choked up. "You're sure?" I asked. "We don't know what kind of consequences this will really carry for you-Mireena Mafaren may not let you return at all. You may be suspended, or even fire. And then what will you do?"

My parents shared a look, and I could see all of their years of love glowing between them. My father reached out and took my mother's hand, giving it a squeeze, before they both returned their attention to me. "Well," he said, "it just so happens that our daughter is a Queen. We might replace ourselves settling on the planet where she rules."

Relief swept over me, and that was the last note of dissent I gave them. I knew they were in it: as in it as I was. I rose to my feet and snatched my plate, heading back to the kitchen and taking the liberty of refilling my bowl with a third helping of spaghetti. Sitting down, my mother grinned all-knowingly.

"All right, then," I said, twirling noodles on my fork. "Let's keep brainstorming."

We sat silently; my mother sipped her wine, my father his beer, and I continued to shovel spaghetti into my face.

"Someone with money, or expertise..." Dad quietly mused.

"Or the ability to keep their mouths shut," said Mom.

"Or," Dad said, leaning forward, "someone who can keep a secret. Or who needs a favor."

I paused, frozen mid-twirl. I had it. "Tierney," I said. "Tierney Mafaren. She'll help us."

~*~

My parent's living quarters were beautifully appointed, with every modern amenity that anyone could ask for. We had space, and plenty of it, and we three fit happily there. They had even expressed a desire to downsize now that I no longer lived with them but hadn't made the move yet. Even still, the Mafaren living quarters made my parents look like they came from a tenement building in some sort of ghetto.

They took up the space at the front of the ship, right above the ship's bridge, and boasted the finest views available from any point of the ship. Their great hall was a bulbous window at the nose of the Atria, and you could stand in their foyer, beneath the dome of impeccably clean glass, and feel as though there were nothing separating you from the vast expanse of space. It would have been unsettling, of not for the chandeliers that floated gently overhead, giving the space the feel of some place magical.

I walked alone into the foyer and stood on black marble floors beneath a black star sky, tiered crystal emanating warm orange light from directly overhead. Just walking through their front door, I felt underdressed.

"Lorelei," Tierney said, emerging up from a staircase in the far corner and meeting me in the center of the room's circular floor. She was wearing a floor-length dress in black, made casual only by the ballet flats on her feet and the airy fabric. I wondered if the Mafaren clan just lounged around the house in eveningwear. "I was told that you'd come to see me."

"Yes," I said, still admiring my surroundings. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have a moment."

"I have nothing but time," she said, and turned, gesturing toward the staircase. I followed her across the room, casting a final glance over my shoulder at the floating chandelier as I went. I knew it must have been something magnetic, and yet it still sent a thrill through me, to see it hover like that.

I followed her down the spiral staircase and we descended into the part of the Mafaren living quarters that were actually for living, not just for intimidating guests. They were still impressive, designed to harken back to a time where having money meant that everything was in rich woods, dark leathers, plush cushions.

The hallways were lit with warm, indirect lighting, giving it the feel of someplace subterranean and secret, like the great stone halls of medieval castles. Tierney led me silently until she pushed through a large, oak door into a bedroom. Her bedroom, I figured. There was a four-post bed in distressed white wood, a red duvet cover and about a million decorative pillows sewn with embroidery and delicate little beads.

There was a matching armoire across from the bed, and she led me past those pieces into a sitting area by a series of windows. Real windows, looking out at the stars. Tierney gestured to one of the red armchairs angled toward a small table, and I sat, while she took the other. She snatched up a remote control and hit a button, and the windows transitioned from the natural sight of stars to a projected image of a country window: red curtains framed a view of a setting sun over vast, rolling hills. It was quaint, somehow, and gave the room an entirely new feel. Like we were in a grand old farmhouse somewhere.

"What can I do for you, Lorelei?" She said, altogether a little colder than I'd hoped.

"It's what I hope we can do for each other, actually," I said. I canted my head to the side and studied her face: she was beautiful, but plainly sad. Maybe she'd chosen to wear black because she was in a form of mourning. "Tell me, how has your mother responded to your stated desires to replace your, er...the man who..." I stammered, "that is..."

"The man I love," she asserted. Sure, ok. I gave a nod of my head. "Yes."

"My mother doesn't understand." Tierney cast her gaze down to her hands, where she was fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. "She was just like you, at the beginning. She thinks I've been brainwashed." She cast a desperate look up to me then. "But you know that isn't true anymore, right?"

I wasn't so sure, but what could I do but believe what she was telling me? "I believe you, Tierney. I believe that you love this man."

"Thank you," she said, and I could see tears welling in her limpid blue eyes. "No one else believes me. My brother is treating me like I'm insane-meanwhile, he is traipsing across the galaxy for some human he purports to love and I'm just here, like..." she shrugged, turning her face away from me to surreptitiously wipe a tear away. "I don't know what to do, Lorelei."

"As it happens," I said, "I'm in a bit of a similar situation."

She sniffed. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I heaved a sigh, always feeling a little strange saying it aloud: "I'm pregnant."

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Her brows shot up high over her big, round eyes. "Oh."

"And I want to go home. To Qetesh, I mean."

I wasn't sure what to expect, exactly. But her expression softened, and she nodded her head. "I understand that feeling, believe me."

"And that's why I'm here," I said, leaning forward so that my elbows were on my knees. "I need your help."

"Me?" She asked. "What can I do?"

"Your mother denied my request to be returned to Qetesh, just as she denied your pleas for help in replaceing the man you love. But you must have access to Mafaren funds-surely you could help me get back to Qetesh."

She sighed as she considered my request. I didn't have much to bargain with, but I was sure I'd have to play the tiny chip I did have in my arsenal: connections. "And what can you do for me in return, if I do help you to fund this clandestine endeavor?"

"I'm not much in the way of status aboard the Atria," I said, "but I am a Queen." She scoffed a little yes, I was only the Queen of a primitive Alien village, but that was something more than what she was, when it came to intergalactic politics. She was the daughter of the president of a corporation; I-amazingly-was royalty. "I'm a Queen, and I know someone who can help you replace your lover."

"Who?"

"The task force assigned to replace Tel and Ciara-Will Astor and Maelin Matsuko." Sure, I'd only met them once, but they'd given me their card, so...that was a connection, right? I swallowed hard and lied just a little. "I'll call them, set up a chance for you to speak to them, and maybe"

"That's it?" She asked. "That's what you can offer?" She shook her head. "They spoke to me already, Lorelei. They can't help me they're on their own mission."

"But surely-"

"Just...just stop, ok?" She turned away from me then and crossed her arms in front of her even as she crossed her legs at the knee. Her body language was totally cut off from me, and I was certain I'd lost her.

I rose to my feet, preparing to show myself out after this glorious long-shot disaster. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to mislead you. I only thought-"

"Of yourself," she finished for me, and I felt my face color with shame.

"I did think I could help you. I want to help you." I cleared my throat. "Anyway."

I took a few steps toward her bedroom door, when her voice rang out to catch me: "Wait." I turned, my brows raised in question, ready to take my knocks. "I haven't forgotten that you were an escaped slave, who crash-landed on a foreign planet, and over the course of months you went from that to a Queen with the power to bring 4 slaves back to their homes. Even if that isn't necessarily what all of us wanted, it shows a great deal of...mm, shall we say...ingenuity?" Reckless presumption, more like, I thought. Tierney continued: "You displayed a lot of nerve, a willingness to go to great lengths to keep the promise that you made to the four of us, that we made right back. You were the only one to keep that promise, so I know I can take you at your word."

"Yes," I said, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt, "yes, of course. You can always trust me to do at least that." Hope was swelling in my heart, and I tried not to be distracted by thoughts of Calder's face; Calder's hands; Calder's mouth. "So," she said on the wings of a sigh, as she got to her feet and approached me, "I need you to make me a promise." And then she did something I didn't expect from Tierney Mafaren: she took my hands in hers and squeezed them as she looked into my eyes. "Promise me that you will do everything you can to help me."

"Yes," I said, and I meant it. "Of course. I would do that anyway."

She furrowed her brow. "You would?"

"Yes," I said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I didn't help you get back to Qetesh, you'd still help me replace him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I smiled. "Because, Tierney. This isn't...quid pro quo. You're in pain. I don't want to see people in pain."

"But-"

She seemed genuinely not to understand. So I took another tactic: "And anyway, if I did help you, maybe then I'd have a better chance of you helping me?"

She nodded. That one she understood. It dawned on me then that it must be terribly isolating to be a member of the Mafaren family, so rich that all anyone can ever see of you is the power and money you could provide them. She probably had few, if any, real friends. It made me feel kind of bad for even asking her for money.

"So, I will help you. I will help you with the promise that you will do everything in your power to help me, in return."

"I swear," I said. "I will do whatever I can."

She nodded again and let go of my hands. "Good." She sat back down, and I followed her, my heart racing in my chest as I felt myself get one step closer to Calder. "So, what do you need?"

"We need to hire a private shuttle that will take us there. But we need to do it under the radar so that our names aren't on the logs that the captain sees. I need passage, and so do my parents." "And so do I," she said, and I quirked a brow. "I figure, if I come with you, I can tell my mother that I won't come back unless she helps me."

"Is...er...is that what you want to do? What if she just abandons you to Qetesh?"

Tierney shrugged. "What does it matter? I'll be no worse off there than I am here. But you've promised to help me, which is more than she has done."

I blinked, but ultimately, I shrugged. Sure, ok-why not? "Great. Sure. If you think that will help, then..."

"Then it's settled." She extended her hand to me, and I reached out to take it in my own. We shook on it.

"It's settled."

"I'll come to see you once I've secured our passage."

"Fantastic. Thank you."

We sat there quietly for a moment, before she gave a wave of her hand. "You may go now." And I went, thinking fondly of a time in the not-too-distant future wherein I would be the one to dismiss her.