The Last Jatorrian

For all of those that have finished Book Two in the Lost in Time series, Second Star to the Right-and wanted a glimpse into a whole other universe and timeline—‘The Last Jatorrian’ is in the works!

This will be a short novella, written from Lilah and a man, Kain’s, perspective. To make this extra exciting, I am going to drop the first chapter here for readers to get an awesome sneak peak!!!

Keep in mind while reading–this is a spin-off novel from the OG series. It does not have to be read with the Lost in Time series.

We are going to dive into what would have happend if Mayko hadn’t shown up at the end of ‘Second Star to the Right.’

I would absolutly LOVE to hear your thoughts my amazing readers! & can’t wait to get The Last Jatorrian published for everyone this Summer! ((Keep an eye out for June 2021!) As your reading, keep in mind this chapter hasn’t even been passed to my editor-sorry for any grammar mistakes!

The Last Jatorrian


I vacantly gazed at my reflection in the high mirror, a vanity that had been moved into the room solely for my comfort.  Jatorrian’s didn’t take up space with mirrors.  I had seen the men check their appearances on the holographic monitors that projected from their wrist communicators, and in my year of travel across space I had yet to see an actual mirror.  The reflective glass stood at double my height, and I was fucking tall.  It was framed with ornately carved soft silver metals that twisted and curled to resemble some kind of foliage.  

I could almost hear my mother’s voice as I stared at my reflection.  She wouldn’t have commented on my beauty, or how much I had grown, not here.  She would have said something like, ‘smile only to show your teeth,’ or ‘let them see how dangerous you are.’  Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I thought through the plethora of words my mother would have for me in this particular situation.  But my mother wasn’t here to offer words of encouragement.  My mother was dead, she couldn’t save me from this.  

I vigorously blinked back my tears, the sadness only dulled the intense green of my eyes, and I wanted them to see my bitterness.  They would make me smile.  For the camera’s, for the crowds, and for the Jatorrian royalty I would be presented to later in the day.  I curled my lips upwards into a smile, and I put something behind it as my teeth shone white and dangerous against my copper skin.  I smirked as I bared my teeth and as my features hardened I could see my father.

My father, Adriem, wasn’t alive either.  He had been killed in the chaotic battle that had fallen on our household when my brother had betrayed us.  Even after my year of captured transit from Earth to Jatorri, I still couldn’t comprehend how Rogue had led them to us.  Rogue had fucking brought those men to our house.  My own brother had fought with them and against us.  He had watched as my sister, Charlotte’s, arms were bound behind her back.  As my pregnant mother had screamed and writhed on the ground while my father, his father, lay lifeless across the field.  He had let them roughly shackle my wrists as I thrashed wildly.  

My twin brother, James, was my most vivid memory from that morning though.  My smirking reflection turned into an outright snarl as I let memory flicker across my thoughts.  He had fought so fucking hard.  We both had.  With blazing swords drawn we somehow had strangled our fear into submission and he had ruthlessly fought at my side, although my life was never truly in danger.  No women were to be killed that morning, my mother, sisters, and I were too valuable.

I had felt it the moment James took his last breath.  That weird thing they say about twins, had never been truer then in that instant.  I wasn’t looking in his direction when our attacker’s sword had cut clean into his chest, but I could feel it.  I felt the deep ache of his life leaving, forever without the one person who understood me the most.  How had we come into this life together, and not left it the same way?  I had turned to him and hesitated, allowing for my capture as I agonizingly screamed.  I had screamed and cried, I had kicked and yelled.  James lay on his side, his black hair a disarray that shielded his wide open lifeless eyes.

Rogue and a dozen Jatorrian men had loaded their shackled prisoners onto a nave, a small spaceship.  I had been gagged.  I remember my mother being carried by Rogue, she was unconscious and my fucking double-crossing brother hadn’t taken his eyes off her visibly pregnant stomach.  My forty-year-old sister, Charlotte, had whipped her body dramatically as she was carried by two men, and that was the last time I would see her.  Charlotte’s younger self, the six-year old Charlotte, which is a story to be told later, followed willingly behind Rogue.  I remember six-year-old Charlotte as she shook in her fear, eyes bleary from crying and wide with her worry for our mother.

That day had been eleven months ago.  I had been imprisoned on that spaceship and left mostly alone.  Rogue never came to see me.  I could sense out the energy’s on the spaceship, a Jatorrian skill that came in handy at times, but not these past few months.  I would have preferred the hope of thinking my mother and sisters were still with me.  

Seven months into our voyage we had landed somewhere, not our home planet of Jatorri, but some other planet.  Nobody bothered to tell me, even with all the pleading I had done with the men who had brought me my meals.  I had sensed my older sister Charlotte’s energy on that planet, slowly fading until I could no longer sense her as we lifted back into space. 

A single month later, I had sensed my brother Rogue’s energy dissolve into nothingness.  Minutes after I sensed his light disappear, my mothers red energy had died alongside him.  I don’t know what had happened on that nave, in the middle of space, just three rooms down from where I had sat and cried for their lives.  I just knew they were gone.

The planet of Jatorri was our final destination, I knew that even with the tight-lipped crew that refused to speak with me.  The Jatorrian race was the mother species of the Humans on planet Earth.  Humans had been created tens of thousands of years ago by Jatorrians, modeled off our genetics, in hopes of saving the Jatorrian dying race.  Jatorrian fertility had been on the decline for thousands of years, and Jatorri scientists had altered our DNA and planted a new race on earth.  Humans, although visibly and physically compatible with Jatorrians, were ultimately…not Jatorrian.  

I had been taken as a prisoner to the planet of Jatorri, our home planet, although I had never actually been there.  My mother and father had secreted us away in the western Chinese hillsides of Earth for the entirety of my life.  In all of my eighteen years, no one in our family spoke of how valuable I was.  My mother and father had never voiced aloud that we were in hiding, that we were in danger.

Jatorrian fertility had been decimated in the past century, with only a handful of Jatorrian’s being born on Earth or on Jatorri, and even fewer fertile females available as the years passed.  To my knowledge, I was the last full-blooded female Jatorrian left in existence.  

That’s how I had ended up in the lavish villa outside of a palace on a planet trillians of miles away from Earth.  Jatorrian men had come in to dress me, to braid my hair in intricate weaves, and paint decorative designs on my bare chest.  Designs brushed in reds and blues, crisp and fluid lines that accentuated the roundness of my breasts and circled my nipples.  

I hadn’t fought them.  It wasn’t time to put up a fight, but there would be a time for fighting.  Their time would come, and I promised myself that.  I promised silently to everyone I had lost against betrayal and heartbreak, secrets and death, that there would be a time to fight.

I pulled my shoulders back as I glared myself down in the mirror.  I raised my lip into a violent snarl, attempting to pass it off as the smile the crowds of men outside so desperately wanted.  My copper skin glowed in the candescent light of the room, and the painted lines across my chest were docile and beautiful.  My black hair shimmered against the gold strands that grew alongside the midnight, and my animosity skyrocketed as I sought my fathers resemblance in me.

I was so young and so scared.  I was defeated and dangerous.  I had lost a life that I had taken for granted in my happiness.  There was so much fight left in me though.  

“They won’t get away with this,” I spoke loudly to my reflection.  

I could see them all there.  My fathers commanding authority enveloped my features, the untarnished gold strands of my hair just as bright as his had been.  My mothers small features and wide eyes looked back at me, her full lips balanced threateningly on my face.  My brother James’s determination and silent stealth crept into every fiber of my being.  I would always see them right there.  They would always and forever remind me to keep fighting.

I was Lilah, daughter of Cyran and Adriem.  The last pure-blood female Jatorrian.  



“Get up lazy ass,” my brother, Atom, yanked on my ankle, attempting to drag me out from under the blankets.  I had sensed him creeping down the hall though and had gotten a firm enough grasp on my mattress to hold myself in place.  I grunted when Atom jerked on my leg again and began grabbing at my blankets.  

“No,” I grumbled and solidly tucked the blankets around my face.  My birthday celebrations had started a day early, and the hangover that pounded across my skull desperately wanted to stay away from the searing morning light.  How the hell Atom wasn’t sobbing and hugging a toilet I would never know.

“Seriously, get the fuck up, Kain,” I heard the annoyance in Atom’s tone.  Which meant they had a birthday present that couldn’t wait or he was just being a dick.  I couldn’t have slept more than a couple of hours, and the way the blackness swirled behind my closed eyes, I assumed I was still semi-drunk.  “Dad received a broadcast this morning, he’s waiting for us all to get downstairs.”  Fuck the broadcast.  

“Why the hell would I care what happens on Jatorri?”  I mumbled into my pillow, pressing my face into the soft cotton hoping the fabric would swallow me back into sleep.

“I would assume the mess of a guy still laying in bed who wouldn’t shut the hell up about the guard all night,” Atom headed towards the door.  If Dad was waiting to watch the broadcast, my brother knew I would crawl painfully out of bed to join them.  “Your worse then the Americans who turn eighteen and buy up a lifetime’s supply of porn and cigarillo’s.”  

Atom was able to bypass the translator we were implanted with that mentally translated any language we spoke into Jatorrian when we were around each other by pronouncing the l’s in cigarillo; creating our very own skewed Jatorrian and spanish slang.  If we were out in public the translator would discern the language being spoken and take over our cerebral vortex and implant the correct wording subconsciously before we even spoke them.  It was a challenge to override such a sophisticated piece of equipment.  

“I was serious about that, you know,” I tried to steady my alcohol thick voice as I pulled the blankets down so I could look at Atom.  Fuck him.  There wasn’t even a trace of our night on him as he stood in the doorway of my bedroom, fresh and bright eyed as he grinned over to me.  He was eight years older than me, and he did have a bit more experience when it came to alcohol intoxication and staying up until the crack of dawn. 

Atom was the oldest of my three brothers, and looked the most Jatorrian out of the lot of us.  That wasn’t saying much, my father wasn’t even half-Jatorrian and we were lucky that all of us even had abilities.  Atom was the oldest and most Jatorrian appearance wise, but he was the shortest with his most prized trait being his intense Jatorrian green eyes that I found myself envying.  

All pure-blooded Jatorrian’s shared the same general markers, something in this day and age to be proud of with how quickly the race was dying out.  Glowing and ethereal green eyes, onyx black hair, dark and clean copper skin, and some amazing ability that was usually inherited paternally.  Our father, Tarek, was particularly proud of his oldest son, who carried our physical lineage with those emerald eyes and had inherited my fathers ability to mentally influence decisions.  

My mother had been a Human surrogate from Brasilia and I had inherited just about every single one of her damn traits.  I had an angular face, with a sharp jaw and long nose that lengthened every feature.  My eyes were narrowed and my brothers tended to fuck with me by mocking my brooding stare.  They were not Jatorrian green, but the same rich browns that lined the beaches outside our home in Rio de Janeiro.  Muddled seeming with dirt and light sand, I hated it; my eyes, not Rio.  My hair wasn’t even close to the midnight black Jatorrian’s were supposed to sport, and I had contemplated dying it over the past couple of years to try and appease my father.  My hair matched my eyes, darkened and rich muddy brown, just how the beaches looked scuffed and worn after a festival night.    

I did have an ability though, thank whatever Gods or Jatorrian sciences we were supposed to believe in.  Nothing incredibly special, not like Atom’s influencing control or my other brother Abyl’s ability to teleport around wherever he wanted to be.  I was stuck with the skill to stop motion in a living being, and wasn’t very good at it.  If I practiced enough I could freeze one of my brothers for a few seconds at a time, and I practiced often on the local macaco’s.  Cementing those little bastards in place as they tried to scamper off with my morning breakfast or whatever I had on that was loose and shiny.  Fucking monkeys.     

“You sounded pretty serious about it last night,” Atom dropped his voice to a more serious tone.  “Just wait it out another year, you’re only seventeen.  The guard and space travel sounds great and all, Kain.  But you won’t get the same privileges as the Jatorrian’s who join, the real Jatorrians.”  I knew Atom wasn’t trying to be a dick with his statement, I knew the racism and prejudice that Humans who joined the Jatorrian guard were subjected to.  “Wait until your eighteen and fly off to America to buy up a store’s worth of magazines and smoke your fucking lungs out.  Having a sore cock sounds more fun than being stuffed into a spaceship with a bunch of men.”  Atom shrugged and continued out of my bedroom.    

I could sense my father and the rest of my brothers waiting in the main room for me as Atom headed in that direction.  Whatever the Jatorrian broadcast was about, that just happened to be delivered on my damn birthday, was important enough for the entire house to need to watch it together.  It was going to be a birth.  It had to be a birth, that’s the only thing I could think of that would be aired across the galaxy.  A pure-blood Jatorrian hadn’t been born in almost thirty years, and I knew how desperately the men in our race clung to the hope that one of the decrepit and old Jatorrian females would magically save our race.

I sighed heavily, which quickly turned into a moan as I literally rolled out of my bed.  I was able to use the energy in the room to soften my fall before I hit the wood bare floors, but the small thump sent my pounding headache into overdrive.  At least I would share my birthday with someone important.  My father would be proud of that, he would write something intolerable to the Jatorrian palace about me and my shared birthright with a new pure-blood.


“Feliz aniversario!”  My brother, Ceph, yelled loudly into my face as I turned the hallway into the main room.  He bypassed the translator by pronouncing the phrase all wrong and my father growled something under his breath to voice his displeasure.  My skull fucking shattered.  Into a thousand pieces.

“Ceph,” I moaned and shut my eyes to the light that shone through the narrow window above the table my father sat at.  The space of the small apartment was cramped with all of us jammed into a single room, but the animation and closeness made the space seem almost too large.  

“Happy birthday, Kain,” my father slightly smiled, his Jatorrian green eyes never left the holographic screen that displayed over the family table.  I could see directly through the screen, but the writing that scrolled by appeared backwards from my point of view.  The images that flashed in the air were jumbled and focused mostly on neat crowds of men that stood in a large square surrounded by enormously tall trees.    

“What’s the news?”  I asked, shoving Ceph on the shoulder as I pushed past him to get to the sink.  I needed water, more than I’d ever needed it in my life.  Every ounce of liquid in my body had been consumed by the alcohol that coursed through my veins and I felt like a piece of shriveled dehydrated meat.  Why was I the only one visibly suffering from alcohol poisoning?  I knew my brothers had drank just as much, if not more than I had.  I openly glared at each one of them as I leaned into the sink and drank from the tap, taking long gulps while I waited for whatever news had arrived from Jatorri.

“I think it would be a good time to look into joining the guard, Kain,” my father grinned at the holograms that danced over the table, and he reached a hand out towards the images.  The projection showed crowds of men subtly cheering, lifting their hands towards the palace, their black hair a swirling mass with all attention focused ahead of them.  “Now that we have something to protect,” my fathers tone was drenched in adoration and he left his fingers hovering in the air, in the same direction the Jatorrian men cheered in.  I rolled my eyes at his exposed emotion as he admiringly gawked at the hologram.  

“Why would Kain need to join the guard?”  Abyl asked quietly, attempting to be considerate of my hangover, but I could hear the worry in his voice.  “Jatorrians haven’t gone to war in thousands of years.  Is it a call to arms?”

I wasn’t sure if my father had even heard Abyl as he continued to gaze at the screen, tears creasing the corners of his eyes.  What the hell would get him so emotional?  I knew he was a little eccentric when it came to some cultural things, but I had never seen my father overflowing with passion over a fucking hologram.  I trudged across the room and peered over my fathers shoulder.

The hologram stood as tall as a small television, the figures and images that moved across it were crystal clear and absurdly lifelike compared to the Human’s televisions.  There were three separate scenes being depicted in different sizes, although they were all in the same location.  The corner screen was a mass of neatly aligned men, thousands of Jatorrian men, cheering with the same ardor my father radiated.  All of the men were perfectly dressed, tight fitted black clothing and capes swayed with their movements as they smiled and raised hands towards the palace.      

The smallest screen was an aerial view, most likely to display the absolute size of the crowd that had gathered outside the palace.  A mass of men swayed as the scene was viewed from above, and it would be hard to guess it was a population on a rapid and deadly decline.  The men were on a small island, covered in lush vegetation and a dozen or so gaudy metal bridges that twined on the outskirts.  In the center of the island, where all the raptured attention was held, was the palace.  A tall and spiraling building that was built to resemble the trees that forested the islands, even the metal of the building glowed green.

She was on the largest screen.  With flashing captions that read, ‘savior,’ and ‘salvation.’  A slew of words that sounded much too Humanly religious for my tastes.  She was smiling, or at first glance it looked like a smile.  There was something else there, something…dangerous.  Her upcurled lips were as threatening as the religious sentiments that blasted across the hologram.  Her green eyes blazed as she narrowed her gaze at the cheering men, as though she were looking to each and every one of them.  Her skin was beautifully Jatorrian copper, and she fucking glowed with the pure blood that ran through her veins.  She was wearing almost no clothes, her breasts painted in tribal designs that swirled and flowed to showcase her youth and femininity.  Her hair was fascinating, onyx black with gorgeous strands of seemingly pure gold that acted as a celestial halo in their neat braids.

“A woman?”  Atom asked from behind me, but his interest wasn’t as captured as fathers and he paced away to rummage through the cupboards for breakfast.  “Isn’t the gold in the hair from a more noble line?  The Kesamesune lineage, right?  Or Nyota?  How’d they hide something so valuable away for so long?  They know how upset everyone was getting.”  I knew, just like the rest of us, Atom didn’t really care about the woman being flaunted in front of the crowds of men trillions of miles away from where we sat in our kitchen; but he would never miss an opportunity to impress father.

“They’re saying she’s from the Nyota lineage,” my father responded excitedly, but his attention never left the tall Jatorrian women who continued to smile at the crowds of cheering men.  She was really fucking young, maybe my age, but even I questioned how they had hidden her away for so long…and why.  “And the Kassra lineage,” my father said in nauseating awe.  “She’s of breedable age, and so young.  How amazing!  To be the woman to save our entire race!”  Father looked up to us in his elation, and I cast him a weak smile in reassurance.  

I glanced over all the scrolling words along the holographic screen, brimming with information of her lineage and heroism for stepping forward to claim her right as mother to Jatorrians.  All of the references of her simply said ‘woman,’ or ‘she,’ not a single banner scrolled by with any personal information on her.  She had a name.  

“Good for her,” I mumbled and tore myself away from the holograms and hopeful crowds.  

So what?  She would surrogate a few celebrated children from Jatorrian royalty, live in a fancy palace, be waited on hand and foot, and never have a worry in the world.  All because she was a fucking woman.  She wouldn’t even have to raise the damn kids.  

“It’s good for all of us,” father narrowed his eyes at me.  “Because of her our legacy will continue, our race will live on.  She’s so young, think of all the children she’ll have for us.”  I hated how he spoke of Jatorrians as if it was some big cult we were all a part of, a religion of inherited blood that we all had to bow to.  We looked exactly like humans.  We lived on Earth.  We worked our asses off to afford the two small apartments we rented in Rio.  “It really is a good time to join the guard, Kain.  It’s a sign that she has come forward the same day you are of age to apply.”  A sign.  I grimaced.

“Isn’t it rude to look at a Jatorrian woman like that?”  Abyl asked slowly, quietly as he sympathetically glanced at me.  Abyl was only a hair taller than my brother, robust and he embodied the dark looks of a Brazilian.  He wasn’t generally so quiet and I silently thanked him for taking my deadly hangover into consideration.  Abyl was a year older then myself, and my closest friend; and apparently, the only fucking person in the house who actually cared about me this morning.  “Everyone’s staring at her and screaming at her.  Don’t you think that scares her?  She’s probably used to being cooped up in that palace.”  Abyl put a hand on fathers shoulder as he peered into the hologram, the faint light reflected and brightened the muddy browns of his eyes.

My eyes flickered back over to the screen.  The exuberant noises were muted on our end and just came across as hushed waves of sound.  The woman didn’t look frightened as she stood tall with her shoulders pulled back and the same warning smile creased her face.  No, she knew what she was getting.  Everything.  She would have everything, because she had been born different from the rest of us.

Hardly any pure blood Jatorrian women had been born in the past century and the handful that had survived had been sterile.  The last fertile woman, Kassra, was far past being able to bear children.  The last completely pure Jatorrian child had been born on Jatorri, a son of Kassra, almost thirty years ago.  That was supposed to be the end of it.  We could breed with Humans and Panderians, our race would continue.  But there she was.  The savior of an entire race, or so the broadcast claimed.  

She hadn’t come forward to save us.  She had been brought forth to perpetuate the sickening hysteria.  The racial divides and prejudices that bubbled between an untarnished race and those muddied with other species.  She would bear a handful of Jatorrian children, not for the survival of a race, but draw out the discrimination that had been universal for thousands of years.

“Maybe it is a good time to join the guard,” I said clearly, my own words cut into my skull with the loudness.  After a nap.  Or after I slept the alcohol poisoning off and splitting headache.

The Jatorrian royal guard would be accepting an excess of applicants with the arrival of their new woman.  I would have a better chance of being chosen if I applied during all of this frenzied excitement, even with my tarnished Human genetics.

If I was accepted I could leave Earth.  I would be trained on our ancient home planet of Jatorri.  I would spend my life exploring different galaxies and experiencing adventures the Human’s of Earth didn’t even know existed.  And there would be a chance I would see her.  Technically the purpose of the royal guard was to protect the future of our race, and she was the future of all Jatorrians.  I narrowed my eyes at the hologram, her bared teeth curled into a perfect smile.  It was rude to stare at a Jatorrian woman.  I glared at her image.  One day I would see her in person and my eyes wouldn’t fall to the floor beside her in respect.  She was not my religion.

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