The ground beneath her was slightly raised. She reached behind her and felt a closely woven layer of small branches covered with abundant leaves to cushion her. Heydar had made a point to keep her off the cold ground while she slept. Again, going above and beyond without her even asking.
She smiled lazily to herself as she gazed up at the sky through the branches. It was just barely light out, the sky a lesser shade of blue.
“Wow, I must’ve really drained myself if I slept until sunset,” she mumbled, pushing up onto her elbow.
Her body ached. A lot.
Unlike recently, her new runes were not feeding her body with a seemingly endless surge of energy. In fact, at the moment Darla felt like she was almost entirely back to her old self again. Tired and aching, namely. She hadn’t realized just how much the pigments were boosting her muscles.
And now she felt like a hot mess, and it was entirely her own doing. Heydar had been right. She’d pushed herself too far hard and was paying the price.
Heydar’s silhouette separated from the nearby tree he had been leaning against, her silent protector moving close and sitting beside her. He gently brushed the hair from her face, concern in his gaze, his warm fingers soothing on her cool brow.
“You are awake,” he said, offering her a drink of water from the skin hanging around his neck.
“Thanks. I’m parched,” she said, greedily gulping down mouthful after mouthful.
“You would be. You overextended yourself.”
She painfully rolled her aching shoulders. “Yeah, I realize that now. Thank you for saving me.”
He nodded once, saying nothing more, settling down behind her.
“You really do look out for me,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand, pulling his arm around her as she nestled up against him with a contented sigh. “I really did overdo it. I can’t believe I slept so long. It’s already nightfall.”
“This is morning,” he corrected.
“Wait, what?”
“You slept straight through the afternoon and night. It is a new day. This is why you must be cautious until your pigment is fully settled.”
Darla was freaking out on the inside but only felt a slight surge of adrenaline. For one, she’d used it all up the previous day. For another, she was still in a semi-daze, and curled up in Heydar’s arms she felt no fear despite the instinctive moment of panic.
“Wow,” she finally managed to say. “Note very much taken. I should have listened to you. Sorry.”
He squeezed her close, his hand drifting to her breast as he pulled her in tight. “Your reaction is natural, especially for one unfamiliar with our ways. I can imagine how intoxicating a sensation it must have been for you. And without generational knowledge of what to do and not to do, pushing yourself too hard is not entirely unexpected.”
“But still a big no-no.”
“Well, yes, naturally. But one that is understandable and readily forgiven. What is important is you are unharmed.”
“But we lost half a day’s time because of me. More, even. We should be at the crash site by now. What if the others have been captured or killed because I slowed us down?”
“Then we will deal with that when we come to it. There is no sense in what ifs, Darla. You will find life far more pleasant if you do not deal in them.”
His hand squeezed tighter, her nipple caught between his fingers. A jolt of happy arousal ignited between her legs despite her exhaustion. Darla snuggled her ass back against him, savoring the growing bulge in his trousers pressing hard against her. She was tired, but not too tired for this.
And apparently, he was more than game for some playtime.
Slowly she began grinding against him, working his length with her rear, taking her time, enjoying every bit of the moment, the heat of his cock hot against her ass even through their clothes.
Heydar let out a low groan of pleasure, his lips finding her neck and kissing it, his hot tongue darting out and tasting the salty tang of her bare skin. Darla felt her body flutter with anticipation.
A cracking twig snapped them both from their moment. Heydar was on his feet in a flash, still erect as he crouched low, both of his blades in his hands.
Again with the knives. How did he get them? Was he even wearing them? Darla marveled.
Another crackling broke the silence, then another. Heydar shifted his stance, his erection dropping rapidly as his body transitioned into fighting mode.
A blast hit the ground at his feet, a crackling bolt of some sort of power. Plasma? Electricity? Darla didn’t know what it was, save that it seemed deadly enough whatever its nature.
“Drop the knives,” a strange, deep, rumbling voice said from the cover of the trees and brush.
Heydar didn’t hesitate, tossing them to the ground at once, to Darla’s surprise. He stayed still but turned his head toward her.
“Dohrags,” he said quietly. “Do not make eye contact with them, no matter what.”
Darla felt her blood run cold. If these were Dohrags, then they were in some serious trouble. No wonder Heydar had given up his weapons so readily. From his description of them, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill just for sport, let alone any perceived threat. The fact they were willing to take prisoners was about the only good luck they were going to get out of this encounter.
The bushes rustled as five armed troopers stepped out into view. Darla didn’t look at them directly, but she did manage to catch a glimpse with her peripheral vision, and that was more than enough to shake her to her core.
The Dohrags were shorter than Heydar, but were still tall. Muscular as well, but not overly so. They had blue-gray skin stretched across their broad faces. With almost no protruding noses, the appearance of the leaner ones was almost skeletal. The meatier of them were almost attractive in their own way, save for the wide, flat foreheads that looked as though they could headbutt the most belligerent barroom drunk into oblivion with a single blow.
They were bipedal, with two arms and hands that seemed normal enough by Darla’s standards. She couldn’t make out any more though as they were clad in futuristic uniforms that covered them from their necks to their wrists and ankles. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though there might even be some sort of armoring built into the outfits, though they appeared flexible enough.
They had tattooed lines running up to their ears from inside the high collars of their uniforms, a now familiar translation rune inked behind them. Darla would have to ask Heydar if the additional connection to the designs concealed in their armor gave them some sort of additional oomph or if it was just a decorative thing.
If they survived this, that is.
She scanned their captors with a critical eye, taking in any details that might possibly prove helpful. The gear strapped to their bodies stood out compared to the native Oraku people. Where the latter carried knives and spears, the Dohrags were sporting high-tech alien equipment, secured to their uniforms by some invisible means rather than belts and straps. Most importantly, each of them carried a large blaster type weapon in their hands in addition to the smaller unit mounted on their hips.
No way he could have taken them on, she realized. It would be suicide.
She glanced toward Heydar, her face still cast low, steering well clear of the Dohrags’ gaze. The apparent leader noted her movement regardless and strode to her in a flash, almost charging like a silverback gorilla might. It was terrifying, but she didn’t think he meant to harm her. At least, not yet.