Traded to the Alien Regent

by Wells, Juno

  Traded to the Alien Regent

  Juno Wells

  Contents

  1. Scrambling Fighters

  2. New Alliances

  3. Bradon the Wise

  4. Bradon the Asshat

  5. All Fun and Games

  6. To Companion a Regent

  7. Something Dark and Primitive

  8. Playing for Keeps

  9. Snipe Them All

  10. Gift From the Gods

  11. Testy Pirate

  12. Making of A Queen

  13. Jaw-Dropping Beauty

  14. Hope

  15. A Coalescing of Love

  16. Betrayal

  17. The Error of His Ways

  18. Managing the Media

  19. The Patience of a Saint

  20. Soul Mates

  1 Scrambling Fighters

  Grace

  Grace was roused from her slumber by the sound of a klaxon blaring. The system was designed so that the intensity of the sound showed the level of emergency. This one was emitting an ear-splitting noise that repeated at quick intervals. Emergency lights were blinking red along the edges of the ceiling. That only happened when they were under attack.

  She bounced out of bed, pulled on her flight suit, and headed for the hangar. With any luck, the support crew would have prepped her fighter. The fighters were kept in operational condition and only needed someone to begin the pre-flight checks to be launch ready.

  Dakota and Mia rolled into the elevator right behind her. Their rooms were nearby, so Grace expected them. They were all still righting their clothing when Dakota spoke, her voice laced with worry. “Be careful out there.”

  “Will do. You got any idea who decided to take a chunk out of us today?”

  Mia answered with a grim expression. “It looks like the ever-elusive Traj. I happened to be surfing the data stream when the alert sounded.”

  Grace’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Great. Their MO is normally smash and grab, meaning they don’t usually attack large well-armed vessels.”

  They’d heard of the Traj from other species. Dakota responded without a trace of humor in her voice. “Well, they’re either desperate or graduating to bigger and better crime.”

  “Isn’t that just our luck?” Grace whispered under her breath, as she adjusted the collar of her uniform. A brief silence spun out as the three sisters gazed at each other in the reflection of the shiny metal door.

  Today was another in a long line of attacks. Humans were discovering just how dangerous traveling through deep space could be. Planets were few and far between, making supplies of any sort rare and worth fighting over. Their ship had been called a hoard ship because of the amount of provisions the crew had laid in for the voyage.

  When the doors opened, Mia got off at the medical unit. Turning slightly but not making eye contact, she murmured over her shoulder. “Don’t be a hero, Grace. That’s how good fighter pilots wind up dead.”

  Grace gave her a three-finger salute just as the door closed. She knew her sister had seen a lot of bad shit in the medical unit. Of course the medic would be the one to issue warnings. Mia was sick and tired of stitching up all our wounds. Still, her sisters were well aware that Grace would give her last breath to keep them safe. Mia was wasting her time stating those kinds of warnings.

  Dakota spoke without looking her sister. “Mia’s right, you know. This is turning out to be a long voyage, and we’ve already lost Mom and Dad.”

  Throttling back her emotions, Grace nodded, understanding what the other woman’s not saying. Almost twenty of their extended family signed up for this deep space voyage, all hoping to resettle on an alien world. Now, eight of them were dead, along with dozens of other hopeful settlers.

  If their command crew couldn’t manage to establish alliances with some of the alien races they were coming into contact with, they’d never be able to stem the bleeding. The command crew had to know this, so until they could work something out, Grace would fight to protect the two thousand human souls on their vessel. It was all she could do at the moment.

  She felt alone on a level that didn’t make sense when Dakota got off the lift at the engineering section. Steeling herself for the battle to come, she took a deep breath and stepped from the elevator directly into the hangar. Captain Drake was already standing there with his number two at his side.

  Nicholas West was no slouch. He was sourced from the Earth’s military ranks and highly decorated. The tight-lipped pair preferred being where the action was, rather than hiding out on the bridge. Grace always respected that about them. Right now they were staring at a huge view screen that showed another vessel drawing closer.

  Grace’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of their enemy. It was an involuntary reaction she quickly clamped down. The ship was huge and bearing down on them with red lights flashing. It looked like the alien ship was in attack mode because they had several ports open, and each appeared to have a cannon of some sort loaded into it. That explained the emergency alert.

  As she ran toward her fighter, her mind boggled at the thought of how much energy it would take to fire all those weapons. The enemy ship was composed of dark metal that looked like burnished brass. It was long and formed in three sections. The propulsion system they were using was unfamiliar to her, and she had no idea what it was.

  Captain Drake murmured, “Prepare to scramble the fighters on my mark and engage the shields.”

  Commander West murmured, “Yes, captain.”

  Captain Drake cleared his throat. “Hail them on all frequencies simultaneously. Send our pre-established message of peace and goodwill.”

  Grace passed by the pair, still straining to listen to what they were saying.

  A crewman from the bridge sounded off over the communications relay. “Aye Aye, Captain.”

  The captain was doing his best to head off a fight. “Jared, steady at the helm. Slowly decrease speed to meet them. Plan evasive maneuvers in case they do not slow, but hold until my mark. Let’s give them a chance to respond to our hails.”

  “Sir, external sensors indicate another ship bearing from the opposite direction,” the bridge answered. “It is the same general specifications as the first, only slightly smaller. It appears to be in battle mode as well.”

  Commander West announced, “I think we should give them the fighting man’s salute, sir.”

  The captain said, “Would you like to do the honors?”

  West stepped closer to a weapons console. “Gladly, sir.” No sooner had his bottom hit the seat than his fingers flew over the buttons. As the ship slid to a stop, the thick metal band rimming the exterior hull shifted like a dial. Suddenly there were a total of forty-eight plasma cannon ports open, all with plasma glowing inside. A huge dome slid back to reveal yet another massive weapon.

  Captain Drake’s lips twitched up slightly when he saw both ships immediately come to a complete stop. “I guess we got their attention. Recommendations?”

  “I suggest we plot a course away from both ships. They seem reluctant to engage. If we stay, they will probably call in enough support to take us. That’s what I’d do, if I were them.”

  “Jared, execute evasive maneuvers now.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Grace climbed into her fighter, still watching the huge screen. The captain’s chatter was being broadcast throughout the ship. Eden Twelve, their ship, pulled away and slowly gained speed until they were at two thirds of maximum speed. The captain’s eyes were glued to the screen as he tried to determine if the enemy vessels were following.

  “Captain Drake, they are both on the move again, in our direction.” West’s voice was strung taunt with emotion. Like Grace, he
had family on board, likely tucked safely away in an escape pod. Grace’s sisters were both required to work during an emergency, since they were needed in the medical wing and engineering. If the battle was lost, they would have to make their way to a pod through the chaos of a damaged vessel and panicked passengers.

  Grace slammed her helmet down over her head and sealed it to her flight suit. Then she yanked on her gloves as the fighter’s glass dome came down, encapsulating her inside. It was looking like now-or-never time, and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure they won this battle.

  “Open a distress call on all frequencies, all languages. I don’t want to take even a small chance that there is another ship within com range that could help, but we didn’t ask. Jared, give me maximum speed. Let’s try to outrun them.”

  Within moments they were getting hit in the rear by the closest alien vessel. Suddenly they began losing speed.

  “They hit the injectors,” Jared said. “We are down to fifty percent of our maximum speed.”

  “They’re gaining on us. Bring us around, Jared. If it’s a fight they want, it’s what they’ll get. Launch the fighters. I want the fighters to swarm the smaller vessel. Concentrate all our fire on the larger vessel.”

  Grace shot out of the hangar and felt a slight tug as her fighter’s shield synced with that of the ship, allowing her to pass through unharmed. All the lights from the hangar and noise from the command crew fell away. The dark, star-filled void of space was where Grace came to life. Fist clenched on the throttle, she accelerated towards the smaller enemy vessel.

  The captain’s voice crackled over the com unit, “Fire when ready.”

  Grace swung wide to see what was on the far side of the sip. In battle, ships always presented their strongest front. Sometimes they even shifted shielding to the side taking the most damage, leaving some weakness that might be exploited on the far side.

  Her fingers flew over the console, scanning. Since they had all been trained by the same badass sergeant, several of her fellow pilots were doing the same. Rick’s voice sounded from the com. “Find anything useful?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to have a look at the underbelly.”

  Not all ships were designed with a particular orientation in mind, but this one had been. Shining a bright scanning light out in front of her fighter, she found something that looked suspiciously like energy buffers. They were long slim cylinders covered with solar panels. A shield shimmered dimly along that area. Excited, she hit her com. “I found something. Converge on my mark.” As she turned, she painted the length of the buffers with floating incandescent markers. “Take down the buffers. I’m going to check and see if the larger ship has the same security flaw.”

  A dozen fighters began making runs down the length of the ship, laying down fire.

  Rick came up on her left wing after he made a pass. “I’ll have your back.”

  The moment the words flew out his mouth, Grace saw what he was talking about. Dozens of enemy shuttles were launching. Though they were nowhere near as fast or maneuverable as a fighter, they were loaded for bear. The heavily armed shuttles were taking out one fighter after another.

  She barked into her com, “They’re protecting the underside of the larger ship. Let’s go high, around, and then under the far side.”

  That’s when she realized the enemy wasn’t using conventional laser weapons. They were lobbing some kind of plasma that ate away at the fighters. A glob hit Rick’s left wing. “Drop your wings, Rick. It’s the only way.”

  She could hear him cursing, “There’s a word for fighters without wings. They’re call fucking shuttles.”

  She could empathize with her battle buddy, because he just lost seventy percent of his maneuverability. “Stay on my six. I need you.”

  “I ain’t going anywhere, Gracie. You can bet your sweet ass on that.” Rick and Grace had been friends since grade school. She knew he’d hang tough.

  After swinging around, they met up with several more friendly fighters and made a run for the energy buffers along the bottom of the second ship. Unfortunately, a larger ship meant larger buffers. When these blew, there was a good chance of them getting taken out in the explosion.

  She hit her com unit and listened to the chatter. Commander West verified the smaller ship had been taken out of action. It was dead in space with no energy buffers. That meant they couldn’t even fire their weapons. Someone reported auxiliary power coming back up.

  The larger ship was still pounding the hell out of Eden Twelve. This was taking too long. The larger ship had more shielding than the smaller one. Time was running out. Grace broke off to try to find another flaw. The thought of her sisters going up in flames if Eden Twelve exploded catapulted her into action.

  Rick cursed under his breath. “Gracie, what are you doin’? Get your ass back here.”

  Gracie pulled back and climbed into the back of her fighter. Auto pilot would repeat the loop she just made from the nose to the end of the enemy ship. Rick would ensure her fighter wasn’t taken out. After tearing out the fighter’s primary weapon, Grace did that thing you’re never supposed to do. She reversed the polarity, turning it into a powerful bomb. The unit wasn’t large. It was about the size of a duffel bag and she was barely strong enough to lift it. Yanking several cluster lasers, she set them to ignite at the same time.

  Cursing under her breath, she climbed back to the pilot’s seat with her homemade explosive only to realize Rick had been screaming at her the entire time.

  “Get everyone outta here, Rick.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that, Gracie. What the hell are you planning?”

  “Go, Rick. Get everyone away before my ship goes boom.”

  He screeches through the com, “No. Stop whatever it is you’re doing. I’m not going to let you kill yourself in some vain attempt to take out a fucking ship all on your own.”

  “We’re losing this battle. I’ve got no time to argue with you. It’s the only way.”

  “We can find another way.”

  “The energy buffers are too well protected. When Eden Twelve loses this battle, there’s no guarantee the enemy will even let the life pods leave the area. You know that.”

  “Aliens are fucking slavers. I know that.”

  By this time the com had gone dark. No one was speaking. Commander West’s voice edged out some static on the com unit. “Captain Drake and I believe this is our best chance of making it out of this fight alive. Proceed Grace. May God have mercy on our souls for sacrificing one of our own.”

  Grace’s throat closed up. “Take care of my sisters.”

  Captain Drake’s deep voice responded. “Will do. I want every other fighter to pull back immediately. Take out every shuttle that can reach our soldier. She needs a clean avenue of attack.”

  Rick let out a frustrated string of curses before pulling back. A firefight erupted around her, then slowly receded. Glancing at the makeshift bomb she crammed between her seat and the wall of the fighter, she grabbed the throttle again and began a sharp nosedive right into the center of the energy buffers.

  When she was close enough to see the enemy ship’s force field dancing against its hull, Grace felt a strange energy crawling over her skin. Unsure what was happening, she held the throttle down to maximize penetration once she collided with the ship.

  They say your whole life flashes before your eyes in your last moments. Images of her parents smiling while she blew out the ten candles on her birthday cake. Her mother’s soft arms around her, soothing her anxiety about being put in a long-term stasis pod for the first time. Images of her sisters waving at her from Eden Twelve’s onboard pool. At least they’d still be swimming when she was gone from the verse. That was the important thing for Grace.

  She forced herself to focus on her fighter’s trajectory, aiming for the weak spot of the enemy’s energy buffers. The sensation of a peculiar power vibrating against her skin returned, growing stronger the closer she came
to the ship. She held her love for her sisters in her mind like an unbreakable shield.

  The next thing she knew, Grace was standing on the bridge of an alien ship looking at a group of aliens. A male with dark green skin and long black hair stared down at her. His ears were pointed, and small fangs peeked out of either corner of his mouth. He was smiling at her with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his long robe. His pointed ears gave him the appearance of a dark elf or fairy.

  When she looked around, she saw all the screens around the room, downloading the Eden Twelve welcome database. It was an open offering for whoever happened by, to help them communicate and understand humans. It included a language download and cultural context type information.

  When the man spoke, his voice was deep but polite. He spoke the unified Earth langue with a heavy accent as if he’d just performed a neural download. “We are answering the distress call of the ship marked Eden Twelve. My name is Lod of Davaria.”

  Confused, Grace stammered, “How did I get here?”

  The Davarian nodded towards the view screen. “You severely damaged the Trajarian vessel. We used a particle beam to remove you from your tiny ship moments before the detonation took place.”

  Unsure what to say, Grace murmured. “You have my thanks.”

  Blinking at her, he intoned, in his own language. “Would you like to negotiate breeding rights?”

  Grace quickly smacked the side of her head where the translation chip was located. They’d been given a total of thirty alien languages in a trade several years ago, and his was in her head. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I don’t think my translation chip is working properly.”

  Before the man could speak, Captain Drake’s voice came over their com. “My name is Captain Drake of the deep-space vessel Eden Twelve. We join our pilot in giving thanks for your intervention.”