Space is lonely, right?
When you are in love not even death can take the love of your life away from you.
I don't know why I take these missions! Every time it is the same. I leave port, I fly for ten light years, attach two fucking huge cylinders to the tow hitch on my ship, zip out and ensure the boosters are in place and then bring them home.
Two million litres of Helium gets pumped out of the tanks, I hook them up and take them back again.
I might as well have stayed on Bardon III and drove mining trucks. It was the same deal. I really didn't spend eight years at flight school and learn the most complex maths ever devised to run basically a dump truck!
I kicked my flight gear into my locker and grumpily headed for home. Thank whatever fates gave me Killashandra. It was her that made the whole bloody lot worth doing. As soon as I walked in the door of my below level 35 apartment the whole world outside disappeared. There was a warmth, an excitement and, best of all, a feeling that someone loved and cared about me in my big underground cavern.
I guess the job did have some perks. Whilst a lot of people lived in three room cells I lived in a place that gave me plenty of space, pardon the pun, for me to roam around in. It also gave my beautiful companion plenty of places to hide. Killashandra was an expert at hiding. It was her form of foreplay. Find her and your every dream could come true. If she surprised you then your heart and body better be prepared. The best foreplay; find her as quickly as you can!
Killashandra was a Ben Cellarite. A space travelling creature that was as comfortable in the dark coldness of space as she was on the surface of the planets that they sometimes stopped at looking for a little bit of fun and relaxation. Ben Cellar was a star system almost a million light years from where the small sun of Sol shone. A distance too far for most people to comprehend. For Killashandra it was as easy as going home for a long weekend. I had gone home with her once or twice. It had taken me almost a month to recover from the wonderful attack on my senses and my tender tanned and muscular body.
I am a big man. I stand at over two metres tall and weigh in at almost one hundred and twenty kgs. I am as fit, if not fitter, than probably ninety-five percent of the spacefaring population that lives on Lunar or in the space ports throughout the solar systems. I base myself on Lunar because Killashandra loves the oceans of Earth. Oceans that are clean and as blue as they would have been when the Earth was very young. It had taken centuries but the planet below us was a paradise for all sorts of creatures and there was not a smoke stack, burning power-station or mechanical combustion energy anywhere on the planet. Earth was a cold fusion and natural power user. It also had a population of less than one billion humans. There were at least twice that number of alien, or what was once named alien, beings living and working or holidaying on the surface.
Where were the rest of the humans? Spread throughout the galaxy and beyond. We were not the first to head into the void but we were the most numerous. The aggressive and world conquering attitude we took out there? Shoved up our collective arses, hard, often and sometimes with the total destruction of those arses. Humans learned to share or they died. It was a simple fact of space life.
Killashandra's own people, the Ben Cellarites were responsible for destroying almost half of the first fleets of big star ships that went out expecting to roll over what they believed were going to be primitive and less intelligent species. They had to be didn't they? None of them had come and visited us, nor did there appear to be any aggressive conquerors out in the void when they travelled to the nearest star system of Alpha Centauri. "Piece of cake!" the first adventurers said, "The universe is ours!" They landed on the only inhabited planet in the system and within a few months had established a military base and had the population providing them with precious gems, mines that produced everything that Earth was running out of and most important Helium gas.
Their aggression and ill-treatment of the local population was not to be tolerated. Within a year the Ben Cellarite police, I suppose you would call them, arrived. One unapologetic conversation with the self-titled World Leader of the planet the humans had called Centauri One was enough. The Ben Cellarites dumped the whole lot of them in orbit around Earth. Twenty thousand human icicles in orbit around the planet along with ten billion tonnes of spaceships, buildings, mining equipment and everything else produced by or manufactured for humans hung there along with them.
The leaders of the world, especially those that had sponsored and supported the colony on Alpha Centauri shat themselves. Already another twenty-five star ships loaded up with military and aggressive minded colonists were on their way to different sectors of space. It was, not officially, an aggressive and well-armed invasion fleet.
The Ben Cellarite found out and met each starship captain and interrogated them. Interrogations that from all accounts extracted information more thoroughly than the best computer algorithms ever built. That was what we were to them: Databases. We could be read, analysed and even re-written in seconds. Twelve starships found themselves back in orbit around Earth in the blink of an eye. The thirteen others proceeded towards their destinations under an invisible but extremely frightening guard. Frightening because they could destroy them all with a thought. The starship commanders knew that the moment they deviated from intentions of goodwill, co-operation and peace they would be licking their own arses in orbit around Earth.
That is not to say that all human colonists were intent on taking over the local population or forcing them to adopt human ways. Many wanted to find their own planets. To create civilisations as enduring and progressive as any in history. The Ben Cellarites and others were happy to help. Become something that they did not find suited their criteria of peace and sharing and the final report from the colonists leaders would be of the world reverting to a dead and barren landscape dotted with the crosses of thousands, perhaps millions, of lost human souls.
It took a while but eventually the human leaders on Earth, the politicians and the big corporate CEOs, got the message. Expand but don't tread on other's toes. Integrate not assimilate. Peace and love. Technology and construction was far more important than destruction and slavery. A thousand years later and everyone was happy.
How do I describe a Ben Cellarite? First off you will not see them unless they want you to. What you see is what they have analysed you want to see. In their natural form they are more like mobile jelly that can move surprisingly quickly or ooze across the landscape at a pace you could measure by egg timers rather than heartbeats. When Killashandra took me home to meet her parents I could only tell the difference between them and others of their race because they wore a pattern of silver coloured flowers along their central body. It was simply to help me identify them.
Killashandra? She was the most perfect female I could imagine. Full lips that were just made for kissing. Eyes of that wondrous blue that you could lose yourself in as if you stared into a pool of deep water. Mysterious but also full of love and laughter. Her hair was a luxurious mane of black that framed her pretty face yet when allowed to hang freely cascaded down her back, over her shoulders and tantalisingly covered her full breasts. It was a joy to run it through your hands and gently open that hirsute curtain to discover the wonder of her body beneath.
Breasts that were full and firm. Nipples that nicely filled your mouth when she was aroused. A flat stomach that led to the most delightful arrangement of her pussy that was custom built for sex with me. Legs that were long, lean and very, very flexible. Her arse was to die for. It was hard for me at times to decide whether to have her so that I could kiss and fondle her delectable cheeks as I made love to her from behind or have them in my hands as I stood with her pressed against a wall and banged her like a madman.
She was sex on a stick and I loved her more than anything else in the universe. Fortunately she loved me just as ardently.
How did I meet her you ask? I cut her in half with a tow hitch on my ship as I gunned it into position to hook up a big container of raw diamonds. I was in Delta quadrant working my arse off for a group of Marlons. Lovely dark shelled beetle type species that used diamonds to create the most exquisite clothing I have ever seen. Unfortunately only a species of hard shelled bipeds like themselves could ever wear them. Flesh and blood would be cut to ribbons the minute any foolish human took a step in the glittery constructions.
