Aliens Love Curves

Chapter 3 - Casey

G raduation day. I never thought I'd see it, let alone feel a flutter of excitement in my chest as I don my cadet uniform one last time. Appraising my appearance in the mirror I smile. Casey Onyx Peace, a.k.a Cop – a nickname that stuck from day one of training, courtesy of my infuriatingly handsome instructor, Stryker, will soon be a fledgling enforcer.

As I adjust my uniform, my mind drifts back over the gruelling months of training. The endless drills, the punishing physical regime, the countless hours spent mastering Ovan law and enforcer protocols. Through it all, one constant remained: Stryker, with his chiselled pink muscles and that damned swishing tail that never failed to catch my eye.

I shake my head, trying to clear it of thoughts of my instructor. Focus, Casey. You're about to become a full-fledged enforcer, something you never imagined wanting. Yet here I am, on the cusp of earning my badge, my laser gun, and most importantly, my enforcer glider license.

A montage of memories flashes through my mind:

- The first time I managed to outmanoeuvre Stryker in a training flight, his shocked expression quickly masked by a grudging nod of approval.

- Late nights poring over legal texts, my eyes burning but my determination unwavering.

- The day I finally bested the toughest combat simulation, collapsing in exhaustion but grinning ear to ear as my fellow cadets cheered.

Each memory is tinged with Stryker's presence – his stern commands, his rare words of praise, and those moments when I caught his gaze lingering on me a second too long.

I make my way to the grand hall where the graduation ceremony is to take place. As I enter, I'm once again struck by how different I look from my peers, every one of them different species to me, with most of them being Equanox. Where they are all sleek lines and graceful limbs, I'm a symphony of curves – round hips, ample chest, thick thighs. I used to hate standing out, but now...now I stride in with confidence, knowing I've earned my place here just as much as any of them.

The ceremony begins, a blur of speeches and formalities. My heart races as names are called, each graduate stepping forward to receive their badge and weapon. Then, finally:

"Casey Onyx Peace!"

I step forward, my eyes locked on Chief Enforcer Zara as she presents me with my badge. Its weight in my hand is substantial, a tangible representation of everything I've worked for. Glancing over to my parents who are standing alongside other uniformed higher-ranking enforcers, the look of relief on their faces gives me a pang of guilt. I was lucky to make the recruitments and not be sent back to Earth.

I flash them a grin and nod my gratitude being sent in the simple gesture. They smile back, returning small nods.

"And now," Zara continues, a hint of a smile on her usually stern face, "your custom-designed laser gun."

My breath catches as she hands me the weapon. It's sleek, perfectly balanced, and unmistakably tailored to my unique physiology. As I holster it, I catch Stryker's eye in the audience. There's a look of pride there that makes my heart skip a beat.

But the surprises aren't over. As the last graduate receives their badge, Chief Zara steps forward again.

"This year, we're doing something different," she announces. "Our top graduates will be assigned to special missions, putting their skills to the test immediately."

A ripple of excitement runs through the crowd. Special missions? This is unprecedented.

"When I call your name along with the Enforcer you will be partnered with, please step forward for your assignment," Zara continues. She reads through a list, and with each name, my hope of being chosen dwindles.

Then, just as I'm resigning myself to a standard patrol assignment: "Casey Onyx Peace and trainer Stryker."

My head snaps up. Did I hear that right? I lock eyes with Stryker across the room, seeing my own shock mirrored in his expression.

As the ceremony concludes, Stryker and I are directed to a private briefing room. The tension between us is palpable as we sit side-by-side, our shoulders almost touching, as we wait for our mission details.

Chief Zara enters, her expression grave. "What I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential," she begins. "You've been chosen for an undercover operation of the highest importance."

I lean forward, my curiosity piqued. Undercover work wasn't part of our training – this is big.

"Your mission," Zara continues, "is to infiltrate Quickening Gliders."

I can't help the small gasp that escapes me. Quickening Gliders is the most prestigious racing organization on Ova. Every young glider pilot dreams of joining their ranks.

"We have reason to believe they're involved in more than just racing," Zara explains. "Your job is to get inside, gather evidence, and report back. You'll pose as new recruits – a hotshot human pilot and her Equanox manager."

My mind reels with the implications. Undercover work. With Stryker. Posing as... what? Partners?

I sneak a sideways glance at him, finding his silver eyes already on me. There's a heat in his gaze that sends a shiver down my spine.

"You'll receive detailed briefings over the next day or two," Zara is saying, but I'm only half listening. "For now, familiarize yourselves with your cover stories. You leave within the week."

Zara salutes us and we jump to our feet, mirroring the salute. She exits, leaving Stryker and me alone. The air seems to crackle with unspoken tension. This is it – the start of my career as an enforcer, a chance to prove myself... and an opportunity to spend extensive time in close quarters with the one person who's been driving me to distraction for months.

"Well, Cop," Stryker says, his deep voice sending another shiver through me, "looks like I’m no longer above you in rank...it appears we're now equal."

I meet his gaze, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling in my stomach. "Looks like it... partner ."

The word hangs between us, loaded with possibility.

Stryker clears his throat, his tail swishing behind him in a way that draws my eye. He takes a step closer, and I find myself acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body.

"We need to discuss the parameters of this mission," he says, his tone slipping into the authoritative one I know so well from training. "As your superior—"

" Former superior," I interject, unable to help myself. "We're partners now, remember?"

Stryker's eyes narrow, but I swear I see the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "As your senior partner, then," he continues, "I need to stress the importance of following protocol. This isn't a training exercise, Cop. The dangers are real."

I feel a prickle of irritation at his words. "I'm well aware of that, sir ," I reply, injecting just a hint of sarcasm into the honorific. "I didn't graduate top of our class by ignoring risks."

Stryker takes another step closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. His proximity is intoxicating, his scent – a mix of ozone and something uniquely him – filling my senses.

"This isn't about your capabilities, Casey," he says, his voice softer now. My name on his lips sends a jolt through me. "You're a fledgling enforcer, and this mission... it's dangerous. I need to know you'll prioritize your safety."

The concern in his eyes catches me off guard. I feel my expression softening, even as I stand my ground. "I appreciate the concern, Stryker, but I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. I didn't survive your brutal training regime just to fall at the first hurdle."

As I speak, I unconsciously lean in, my body betraying my attraction even as my words push back against his protectiveness. Stryker's gaze flickers down to my lips for a fraction of a second, and I feel a rush of heat through my body.

"Besides," I continue, my voice a little huskier than I intended, "isn't that what partners are for? Watching each other's backs?"

Stryker's tail swishes again, brushing against my leg. The touch, even through my uniform, sends electricity coursing through me. His chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and I realize just how close we're standing.

"You're right," he admits, a newfound respect in his eyes. "We're partners. Equal partners. But that doesn't mean I won't worry."

The admission hangs in the air between us, charged with unspoken feelings. I find myself swaying slightly towards him, drawn by some invisible force.

"Then we'll just have to trust each other," I say softly. "I've got your back if you've got mine."

Stryker nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. It's a genuine smile, not the smirk I'm used to seeing, and it transforms his features. My breath catches in my throat

"Deal," he says, extending his hand.

I take it, marveling at how my smaller hand fits into his larger one perfectly. The touch sends sparks shooting up my arm, and I see Stryker's eyes widen slightly. He feels it too.

We stand there for a moment, hands clasped, bodies close, the promise of our new partnership – and perhaps something more – hanging in the air between us.

Finally, reluctantly, we step apart. The loss of proximity is almost physical, leaving me feeling oddly bereft.

"We should, uh, start going over the mission details," Stryker says, his usual composure slightly shaken.

I nod, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. "Right. The mission. Quickening Gliders."

As we begin to discuss strategy, I can't help but steal glances at Stryker. His powerful form, the way he moves with fluid grace, the intensity in his silver eyes when he looks at me – it all combines to create a potent distraction.

This mission is going to be challenging in more ways than one. Not only do we have to infiltrate a potentially dangerous organization, but we'll have to navigate the growing attraction between us. Stryker outlines our first steps and I find myself both thrilled and terrified by the path ahead.

We begin to discuss our mission, and I can't help but wonder: is this undercover assignment the beginning of my career as an enforcer, or the start of something else entirely?

One thing's for certain – life on Ova just got a whole lot more interesting. And a lot more complicated.