A rival appears. Never had something like this shown to me before. Plenty of romances, sure, but to have Alix come out of nowhere and immediately lay claim to the main character? Who is already spoken for? I’m on very unfamiliar ground, right now. This is either take the story places I have not imagined or will wreck it on the rocks in about a thousand words. We shall see.

In the background there is more I want to know about Ceres, and these two girls are not helping. And “my flesh needs to be fed” sailed right over the heads of both humans. That will definitely come up next.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

Just leaving the trees for the semi-circle of building, he saw Pai.  When did she change into local clothes, their uniform?  Regardless, he ran up and took her right arm.

“Pai!  Are you – ”

“Let go of me before I kill you,” the girl, young woman, said.”

She turned to glare at him.  She’s… she looks just like her; adorable.  “I…I’m sorry.  You look exactly like someone dear to me.” Graf took a step back and lowered his head.  “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t have the fringe of hair down the right side of her face in a little band.  I should have noticed that.  But they are the same height, color, hair.  Only now, I see, her eyes are dark, not red like my Intended.  And that snarl on her face is not good at all.

“I am Alix Jones.  Officer-candidate, imperial space navy.” She looked at him from feet to head.  “You do not belong here, no matter what badge you have.  Do not just go about grabbing people’s arms.”

“I apologize, Alice – ”

“It’s Alix.  Don’t be stupid.”

“…but you look like the gal who brought me here.  I…” He looked about and sighed.  “I’m from a farm on a river in the far north.  I really don’t understand what has happened to me.”

She tilted her head.  Just like Pai, but I’m not saying that.  “You are Canadian?”

“No.  No, just a little place along the Wisconsin River.  Someone,” he waved at the buildings to their north, “almost fell onto me.  Uh, things happened.  And now I’m here.”

Alix took a step closer to him.  “Things happened?  That’s shitty precision in your words.”

“But,” she lifted her left hand and placed her index finger onto his chest, “you tell an interesting story.  Your name?”

“His name,” came a voice filled with malice, “is Graf Winstead.  My Intended, you little whore.”

“The actual effing hell did you just call me, Russian?” Alix demanded, turning to face Pai, who again strode up nose-to-nose with this other girl.  “My empress’ country; her rules, which I enforce.  I see no rings, so your engagement to this man is not legal.  Even if he mistook me for you, and I now see why, he’s open game.”

What?

“I can tear you to pieces, child,” Pai hissed.

“Hey, now…” Graf tried.

“Oh.” Another head tilt.  “You’re an android.  Why aren’t you digging rocks on Mars right now?”

Much worse, Alix linked her arm about Graf’s.

“Leave us humans alone.  Androids are not welcome in the imperium.”

I am going to die.  Right now…

He watched his Intended eyes flare fire.  Rather than punching the other girl’s head off, she went to his right and took his other arm.

“I can kill you,” Pai said.

“I can have you deactivated,” Alix replied, calm.

“My flesh needs to be fed.  Join us,” Pai allowed.  “I am Pai.”

“Alix.  I shall.  You understand we are now rivals?”

“Yes.  My Intended is a bit clueless, but shall come know, as well.  You will not win.”

“I shall not lose.”

What the hell are they talking about?

“So, uh,” he tried to change the subject while being frogmarched north, “your meeting go well?”

“Yes,” Pai replied.  “While nominally claimed by the imperium, the number of Russian miners and engineers on Ceres is acknowledged by Empress Aurelia, and thus also our claims.”

“It was the imperial standard which first was planted on that planetoid,” Alix said, getting closer than she should, “and our claims are paramount, Pai-bot.”

“You will never be an officer in this or any other space navy, whore,” Pai replied while almost breaking Graf’s arm with her grip.  “So worry yourself about kitchen duties rather than empty dreams of being an officer.”

“Meaning you have illegally looked at my record, toaster?”

“What’s to look at?  You are a nothing, Little Slag.”

Okay.  That’s enough.  Graf stopped and shook both of their arms off.

“When I was a kid, I heard about Southern Hospitality, Miss Jones,” he began with her.  “And also, from stories, Russian comradery, my Intended.  I see neither here.”