Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 2 - Stryker

T he morning sun casts a golden glow over the training grounds as I survey the line of cadets before me. It's the first day of glider training, and I can feel the nervous energy radiating from the group. My gaze sweeps over them, assessing their posture, their focus, their readiness.

And then my eyes land on her. Casey Onyx Peace, the human cadet I’ve nicknamed, Cop.

I've been dreading this day, knowing I'd have to watch her in action. It's been two weeks since she joined the Academy, two weeks of me trying – and failing – to ignore the effect she has on me.

As the cadets mount their gliders, I can't help but notice how different Casey looks compared to the Equanox females. Where they are tall and willowy, all straight lines and angles, Casey is a study in curves. Her enforcer uniform, designed for Equanox bodies, strains against her ample chest and hugs her wide hips. It's like comparing a sleek, efficient machine to a work of art.

I shake my head, trying to clear these inappropriate thoughts. She's a cadet, for star's sake. And a human, at that.

"Alright, cadets," I call out, my voice echoing across the training ground. "This is your first official glider race. The course is simple – three laps around the floating platforms. First one to cross the finish line wins. But remember, this isn't just about speed. I'll be watching your technique, your decision-making, your ability to handle your glider under pressure."

My eyes lock with Casey's for a moment. Is it my imagination, or does she straighten up a little under my gaze?

"Any questions?" I ask, breaking eye contact.

Silence.

"Good. On my mark... get set... go!"

The air fills with the hum of glider engines as the cadets take off. I watch them rise, noting their takeoff techniques, their initial positioning. Most are decent, a few are sloppy, but one... one stands out.

Casey's takeoff is flawless. She angles her glider perfectly, using the wind to her advantage as she shoots forward. Within seconds, she's pulled ahead of the pack.

I find myself holding my breath as I watch her navigate the first turn. The way she leans into it, using her body to guide the glider... it's unlike anything I've seen before. It's not the Equanox technique we teach here at the Academy. No, this is something else entirely. Something... beautiful.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath. I shouldn't be impressed. I shouldn't be watching the way her curvaceous body moves with the glider, the way her hair streams behind her like a comet's tail.

The race continues, and Casey maintains her lead. Her technique is unorthodox but undeniably effective. She's a natural, born to fly. As much as I hate to admit it, she's better than any cadet I've seen in years.

As they enter the final lap, victory seems assured for Casey. But then, something goes wrong.

Cadet Zix, an Equanox male who's been pushing his glider too hard, suddenly loses control. His glider starts to spin, veering dangerously close to one of the floating platforms.

I tense aboard my own glider, ready to intervene. But before I can move, I see Casey bank hard, changing course. She's heading straight for Zix.

"What are you doing, Peace?" I mutter, watching in disbelief.

Casey matches her speed to Zix's out-of-control glider. With a manoeuvre that makes my heart skip a beat, she reaches out, grabbing hold of his glider's stabilizer. Using her own glider's momentum, she guides Zix away from the platform, helping him regain control.

By the time they're both stable, the other cadets have passed them. Casey's certain victory has turned into a last-place finish. But the look on her face as she lands isn't one of disappointment. There's a quiet satisfaction there, a sense of pride that has nothing to do with winning.

As the cadets dismount, I stride over to them, keeping my face stern.

"Cadet Zix," I bark, "that was sloppy flying. You pushed your glider beyond its limits and nearly caused a serious accident. You'll stay after class for additional safety training."

Zix nods, his pink skin flushing a deeper shade with embarrassment. "Yes, sir."

I see Casey open her mouth, no doubt to defend her fellow cadet, but I cut her off with a look. Her face falls, disappointment clear in her eyes. It takes all my willpower not to acknowledge her actions, not to commend her for her selflessness and skill.

But I can't show favouritism. I can't let her see how impressed I am. How captivated.

"The rest of you, hit the showers," I command. "Except you, Peace. I want to speak with you."

As the other cadets file away, I hear Casey sigh and see her roll her eyes. The gesture shouldn't be attractive, but somehow, maddeningly, it is.

Once we're alone, I allow my stern expression to soften slightly. "That was an impressive move you pulled out there, Peace."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Sir?"

"The way you assisted Cadet Zix. It was risky, but well-executed. You sacrificed your own victory to help a fellow cadet. That's the kind of quick thinking and teamwork we value in the Enforcers."

A blush creeps up Casey's cheeks, and I find my eyes drawn to the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickens. Stars help me, even the simple act of her taking a breath is mesmerizing.

"Thank you, sir," she says, a small smile playing at her lips. "I just did what anyone would do."

I shake my head. "No, not anyone. Most would have continued the race, assuming someone else would help. You saw a problem and immediately acted to solve it. That's the mark of a true Enforcer."

Her smile widens, and I feel an answering warmth in my chest. What is this human doing to me? My gaze falls on her red lips pulled tightly across her white, blunt teeth.

"I have to ask, though," I continue, trying to maintain some semblance of professional distance, "where did you learn to fly like that? Your technique is... unconventional, yet it works."

Casey's eyes light up with passion. "I've been flying recreationally for years, sir. When you're not bound by regulation flight patterns, you learn to get creative. To feel the glider as an extension of yourself."

I nod, understanding dawning. "You treat it like a dance partner, not just a machine."

"Exactly!" she exclaims, then catches herself. "I mean, yes, sir. That's a good way to put it."

A chuckle escapes me before I can stop it. "At ease, Peace. You're not in trouble here."

She relaxes visibly, and I find myself captivated by the way her body softens, her waist becoming even tinier as the curves of her hips become even more pronounced. I force my eyes back to her face, only to find her watching me with a curious expression.

"Sir," she says hesitantly, "can I ask you something?"

I nod, not trusting my voice to crack as I try to control my breathing...and the swell in my pants not to get any bigger.

"Why didn't you say anything about what I did in front of the others? I saw you were impressed, but you didn't mention it."

I sigh, running a hand through my long hair. "Because, Peace, as an Enforcer, you need to learn to do the right thing without expectation of praise or reward. And as your trainer, I can't show favouritism."

"Even when it's deserved?" she challenges, a spark of defiance in her eyes.

"Especially then," I reply, holding her gaze. "The other cadets already see you as different. If I single you out for praise, it could cause resentment."

Casey nods slowly, understanding but not entirely satisfied. "I see. So, what you're saying is, I should get used to these private debriefings?"

There's a hint of something in her voice – teasing? Flirtation? – that sends a jolt through me. I need to end this conversation before I do something I'll regret.

"Don't get cocky, Peace," I say, injecting sternness back into my tone. "You've shown promise, but you have a long way to go. Now hit the showers. Tomorrow, we work on precision flying."

Her large breasts rise and fall before she answers, and I have to fight not to stare at them. "Yes, sir," she replies, turns, and walks over to the door leading into the main building. I watch her ass cheeks do a dance of their own as they fight against the tight material of the uniform as she walks. Just metres from the door, she looks back over her shoulder. "And sir?" I draw in a sharp breath which catches in my throat as I tear my eyes up, hoping I wasn’t caught out. "Thank you."

As she walks away, I can't help but watch the sway of her hips, the confidence in her stride. Did she catch me watching her? I swear the way she’s rolling her hips now is even more exaggerated. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to call her back, not to tell her how amazing she was out there today.

What is wrong with me? She's a cadet. A human. Everything about this is inappropriate. I'm her trainer, for star's sake. I'm supposed to be moulding her into an Enforcer, not... not whatever this is.

But as I head back to my office, I can't shake the image of her on that glider. The skill, the grace, the sheer joy of flying that radiated from her. It stirred something in me, something I thought I'd left behind long ago.

I sink into my chair, running my hands over my face. This is going to be a long training period. I need to get these feelings under control. I need to remember my place, my duty.

But even as I think this, I know it's a losing battle. Casey Onyx Peace has already gotten under my skin, and I have a feeling she's not going anywhere anytime soon.

Sighing, I turn to my computer, pulling up her file. "Cop," I mutter, a smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "What am I going to do with you?"