Bonded

Chapter 1: Bonded

He'd been assigned to the Yorktown Research Outpost in quadrant two. Benjamin Torres, an Earthen Squirrel, wanted to study aliens but wanted nothing to do with the Dynamic Patrol. There were dozens of species, and despite there already being thousands of people investigating them, one species interested him more than anything else: shapeshifters, specifically the Omeocoon. He'd been studying Lieutenant Zul's papers on them. That woman was a science officer aboard a DP starship and had been tracking them on and off for some time. They were such an interesting species. He knew everything, from their anatomy to their culture; if he could, he would become one. Of course, he couldn't be an exobiologist without studying other species. Still, he always seemed to pull back to the species of colorful, animistic creatures who had stretchy morphing powers that were beyond his understanding. Ben was studying quietly in his quarters on Yorktown; it was well into three o'clock in the morning when he heard the alert that Omeocoon was under fire. Of course, being the researcher he was, he boarded the first craft he could back to the planet. In hopes of catching the first glimpses of the world's destruction, he was something of a curious fellow, even if it was for the destruction of a planet. He prayed that the people of Omeocoon could be saved, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could not be allowed to slip by.

When he was on that transport, he felt horrible waves of turbulence, and then he blacked out.
He was met with a cold towel pressing against his forehead when he opened his eyes. He rolled his shoulders as he groaned in agony. At least four of his ribs were broken, and his leg felt funny. His vision was foggy. The creature standing over him was muscular and likely tall, provided he was standing up. His eyes were emerald green, which matched his complex completion of green and orange skin. He had the most intriguing arm sleeve and pants to match, along with several bits of personal storage. When he'd been studying Omeocoon appearance modification, it was clear that this style was not new to him. On and off, the Omeocoon were known to produce new clothing forms, but most preferred to remain relatively... naked. This one compromised because he didn't wear a shirt.
As Ben regained consciousness, he found himself in a state of disorientation, his senses still muddied from the impact of whatever had caused his injuries. Blinking away the haze, he focused on the figure looming over him, his mind struggling to comprehend the sight before him. The Omeocoon standing over him possessed a commanding presence, his eyes peering down at Ben with concern and curiosity. His muscular physique and unique attire made him significant among his people. Perhaps he was the chief of a tribe. Or someone else? Were there any tribes left after that devastating explosion? The fact that intrigued Ben even in his groggy state.
"Where... where am I?" Ben managed to croak out, his voice hoarse from the pain and confusion coursing through him. The Omeocoon regarded him with a thoughtful expression before speaking in a deep, melodic voice that resonated with authority. "You're safe, Earthen. I found you in the woods underneath some rubble. The wreckage had Patrol markings... but you were the only survivor. I saw the sky change colors... like a fire in the atmosphere, was that you? Was that your ship exploding?" Ben's brows furrowed as he struggled to make sense of the situation. The news of the bombs did not reach this tribe just yet. "I don't understand. Who are you?"

Ben attempted to sit up, but the Omeocoon cautioned him, placing a gentle but firm hand on his chest. Ben winced, "Easy, you're still injured. My name is Cal," He introduced himself, his gaze evolving to something reassuring to Ben. "You're in my tree house. What's your name?" Ben's mind raced as he processed Cal's words, the puzzle pieces slowly falling into place. "Benjamin Torres. But people call me Ben. Am I... on Omeocoon?" Cal nodded, and Ben seemed to take comfort in that. "Hold still," Cal went to undress Ben without hesitation. Ben squirmed a little as Cal undid his shoelaces first, slipping off his high tops and tube socks, "Woah..! What are you doing?" Ben asked; there was panic in his voice as Cal slipped his button off his shoulders and then arms and went for his shorts next, "Trust me... you'll be a lot more comfortable; my planet gets quite hot and humid at night... you'll get all sticky and sweaty. And I think you have a few broken bones that must be examined. I have to take your clothes off." Cal continued until Ben was down to nothing but his boxers. He blushed red. "Well... I certainly feel very comfortable... are your people always this... touchy?" Ben asked. "Yes, actually. Touching is how we often initiate intimacy. But I won't be intimate with you. I just want to help you."