by Juno Wells
ALIEN CAPTAIN’S CLAIMED BRIDE
JUNO WELLS
CONTENTS
Prologue
1. Honor and Duty
2. Hero Worship
3. Battle
4. Wounded Warriors
5. Queens Have the Choosing
6. Panicked Queens
7. Rally the Troops
8. Rude Awakenings
9. Shoulder to the Grind
10. Self-Sacrifice
11. Constant State of Denial
12. Plan of Action
13. Reality Orientation
14. A Million Possibilities
15. Young Warriors
16. Dark Star Surprise
17. Strange Happenings
18. Medical Emergency
19. Problems Stacked Upon Problems
20. Mating Scent
21. Toddlers
22. Interrogations
23. Family Time
24. The Taste of Blood
25. Blindsided
26. Breaching the Enemy Ship
27. Hero’s Welcome
Glossary
Prologue
Many thousands of years ago, deep in the Exion star system, Sahasankramana was the first Draconian female to enter the Cave of Ascension. She passed through the softly glowing waters, noticing tiny bright blobs moving about in the water. Whether they were finless fish or worms was difficult to tell, for they had the characteristics of both as well as thin filaments growing out of their frail bodies.
Forcing herself to submit to the will of the gods, Sahasa ducked her head under the water as she walked, slowly emerging as a queen on the other side. Her people were equal parts awed and terrified, for none had dared to pass through the glowing waters before.
After she took her rightful place as leader of her people, all was well for a brief time. Soon her sleep became restless. A suspicion crept from the back of her mind, and she felt something strange growing in her body. It moved around and playfully tickled her insides. Since Sahasa had no fever, nor evidence of disease upon her skin, no horns or wings, the healers assured her that all was well. Then the nightmares started, and she never knew a moment’s peace thereafter. Every day was a struggle to shut out the dark voice growing ever stronger in the back of her mind. Once the symbiont took full control of her faculties, Sahasa was forced to stand idly by while the creature wreaked havoc on her people.
From that day to this, every Draconian female had been forced to walk through the Waters of Ascension, thus becoming a queen in her own right. The evil of the cave was disguised as a coming of age ceremony for young females, and the Draconians were taught to love this sacred rite, thus perpetuating the age of the symbiont. The first symbiont was long-lived, and few knew it still wandered the verse looking for plunder and warriors. Most warriors prayed to never meet the elder queens, for they were much more vicious than younger queens. Their fondness for terrifying and torturing males was legendary.
As the decades flew the queens grew discontented, fought amongst themselves and battled with each other over warriors. They seemed to grow stronger, crave chaos and feed off the misery of others. Little did the Draconians know, but the creatures were not a strange anomaly, born of their planet, but rather the spawn of a soul sucker that had been driven from a nearby world.
Meanwhile on Earth the environment was deteriorating, turning the oceans into putrid acidic cesspools devoid of all life forms. The lives of many males were lost in an effort to clean up the contamination, and then the worst-case scenario came to pass. A new pathogen emerged and locked onto the male genome. It took time to develop an antigen, costing more lives still. By the time all was said and done, the ratio of males to females was seriously unbalanced, there being four females to every male.
Just when humans were losing hope, aliens made contact with the peoples of Earth. They kindly offered to help with the environmental disaster and provided much-needed medical supplies and foodstuffs. In return, the aliens requested the one thing Earth had a surplus of. Voluntary human brides were offered in exchange for the supplies. Many women were all too happy to relocate to a pristine new planet with an accommodating alien husband.
During transport to one of these alien worlds, women encountered the Draconians. The ever-curious humans discovered the truth about the symbionts, leaving the Draconian warriors grief-stricken. Even though the Dracon had dragon DNA mixed with their humanoid DNA, they were soon found to be compatible with humans for mating. The Draconian warriors had suffered so long under the rule of the symbionts inhabiting their females, they jumped at the chance to have a human bride. Some even escaped the Exion using wormhole technology stolen from a ship that mistakenly entered their realm. They struggle to survive and keep the symbionts from entering the new quadrant of space. Naxis was the name of their new quadrant and it offered a completely new way of life for the battle-hardened warriors.
1 Honor and Duty
Meric
Meric’s proudest achievement so far was being selected to patrol the shipping lanes running through their new territory. The Raspian was a fine ship, the best in their small fleet, in fact. Though he’d spent many solars being utilized in another capacity, he was glad to be in command once again. Something about sitting in the captain’s chair spoke to him as a male. And best of all, he was now a protector rather than a destroyer of worlds. He loved everything about being a captain, including making complex command decisions and all the challenges of interacting with new species. Training his crew in battle tactics and hand-to-hand combat was both an obligation and a genuine pleasure. He enjoyed seeing each warrior progress through the ranks, gaining skill and confidence.
Before coming to this sector, Meric’s life had been a waking nightmare. Serving as Queen Stonara’s breeder had nearly broken him. When they got word to vent her into space and head for a wormhole leading to another quadrant of space, his family seized upon their one chance at freedom and devised a plan to subdue the huge queen.
The moment Queen Stonara realized that she was being gassed was among his most prized memories. She’d reaped—murdered—most of the children they’d had together when they were babies or toddlers, keeping only the ones she deemed perfect. For that alone she deserved to die badly. Though the other warriors had no stomach for killing a queen, Meric would have happily snapped her neck. Instead, they had abandoned her on a primitive planet with no technology and no way to leave. The thought of the aristocratic Queen Stonara living like a barbarian gave him some measure of solace.
Meric had kept his family from the sight of the new human queens, because he was unsure about their motivation for rescuing so many warriors at once. Even after spending time on their new home world in the Naxis, he couldn’t manage to shake the feeling that the human queens weren’t as innocent and benevolent as they seemed.
His first officer’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “Sir, long-range scans are showing a skirmish. Two ships are firing at each other.”
“Can we ID the ships?”
“We’re just coming into scanning range now, sir.”
Glancing at the younger warrior, Meric responded, “Thank you, Calen. Approach at maximum speed. Let’s see if we can defuse the conflict before they tear each other apart.”
The navigational officer responded promptly, “Yes, sir.”
Meric gripped the portable console attached to his seat, swung it up and over his lap, and then activated the screen. His hands flew over his keypad, expertly pulling up the information he needed.
He zeroed in on the ships and began matching their configurations against ships registered to operate i
n this area. Only one was registered properly. It was a Yuroba ship. The Yuroba were some of Dracon Two’s closest allies. Since being rescued and brought to the Naxis Quadrant, his people had learned of the Intergalactic Council of Worlds and the different species approved to operate in this sector of space. The rival ship was Moltan, and they were not a sanctioned trading partner.
An image of the two warring alien vessels grew larger in their view screen. The battle playing out before their eyes was so unequal it roused Meric’s pity for the smaller ship. Outgunned by the larger, newer and vastly better-equipped Moltan vessel, the smaller Yuroba freighter was practically buckling under the brutal assault.
Calen spoke. “Scanning both ships now, sir. The Moltan vessel has about four hands of warriors. The freighter is carrying families and cargo, probably en-route to the outer colonies.”
His security officer, Tabor issued a warning. “The Moltan ship is coming about, Captain. One more broadside from their laser cannons will destroy whatever shielding they have left, leaving her easy prey for a boarding party.”
Experience told Meric if his crew didn’t intervene quickly the loss of life would be substantial. Feeling his wings tense, Meric commanded, “Shut down every nonessential system and reroute that power to our engines. Increase speed and open a communications channel.”
Calen responded, “Done, sir. We’ve managed to increase speed by almost twenty percent.”
Carefully moderating his tone, Meric attempted to deescalate the situation with a stern warning. “Moltan ship, stand down your attack. You are in violation of Article Five; Section One of the Intergalactic Accords, which prohibits acts of aggression against member worlds.”
The com line crackled to life with a voice almost as deep and dark as Meric’s.
“The Moltan do not recognize the authority of the Intergalactic Council or their shiny new lackeys.”
Momentarily cutting the com frequency, Meric ordered, “Position us between the two vessels with our laser cannons pointed in the correct orientation. Increase our outer shielding.” As his crew scrambled to execute his orders, Meric switched the com back on. “I repeat, stand down your weapons, or prepare to be fired upon.”
“Move aside, Draconian. Only a fool stands between the Moltan and his prey.” It was strange to address each other by their species designations, but this was the way of the Moltan. They were secretive people who never spoke face-to-face if they could avoid it. The new Draconian queens had decreed they would resolve all conflicts peacefully, using violence only as a last resort. Therefore, his intrepid crew looked to him to negotiate a solution to this situation.
Using his limited skills of diplomacy, Meric tried to understand the nature of their conflict. “Allow us to negotiate an end to hostilities between you and Yuroba vessel.”
“You have no authority over the Moltan; therefore we are not obligated to follow your useless commands.”
“Why are you so intent on destroying their vessel?”
“They stole cargo at our last refueling stop. I doubt you would allow others to steal your property without reprisals, Dracon. So why should we?”
“What kind of cargo was taken?”
“Females.”
A chill snaked up Meric’s spine. Trafficking queens without an Intergalactic permit and transporting them with a voluntary official certification of willingness to relocate are two entirely different things. The former is punishable by death in this sector of space.
His communications officer spoke from his console off to the side. “The Yuroba ship is carrying ten hands of human queens in addition two hands of Yuroba females. It is too many to be a coincidence.” Kaldok sounded alarmed and his horns were slicked back against his head. It was sign of acute anxiety among his kind.
Meric allowed that information sink into his brain for a moment. Ten hands was a hundred. It was the standard unit of shipping for valuable merchandise in this sector. His gut twisted into a tight ball as he realized that might indicate the Moltan saw them as actual cargo. Though Meric had never managed to get used to being exposed to large groupings of queens, he was a Draconian warrior, and therefore he prioritized the health and safety of queens above all else.
Historically, each Draconian ship had only one queen and around a thousand warriors. To think, almost a hundred precious queens were in danger. It riled his fighting instincts and left him feeling bloodthirsty. His voice hardened. “Transmit your permit with intact voice verifications and DNA imprints. Stand down your weapons while we review your claim.”
“You know better than that, captain. We bought the females, and that makes them ours.”
Since the Moltan had ceased their aggressions for now, Meric gave their captain the benefit of the doubt. “Did they sign their own contracts?” There was a long silence on the other end of the conversations. Everyone knew signed contracts were the difference between a queen consenting to be an intergalactic bride, and that same queen being trafficked against her will. This was a serious breach of Intergalactic law. To protect the females, his crew would definitely destroy the interloper's ship.
The other man's cold voice whispered through the com relay. “Did the assortment of cargo sitting in your hold consent to being sold?”
“Things are not the same as people. To insinuate that females are property is beneath the dignity of a captain. They are individuals with a will of their own.”
“It matters not what the female wills, for to the Moltan, one is much like another. It is only their ability to breed that makes them valued. Each and every female was bought for a Moltan male to breed her. It means his line will continue for another generation. Is that so wrong?”
“Do not toy with me this day, Moltan. I have little tolerance for lawless behavior in my sector, much less that which involves the illegal acquisition of innocent queens.”
Tabor reached over and cut the com before speaking quietly from the security station. “We have two more Moltan ships incoming, sir. They’re charging their weapons and will be on us in less than seven microns.”
Meric was furious with himself for playing peacemaker when it was now clear that dialoguing with him had been nothing more than a clever stalling technique by the Moltan captain. He didn’t care for being made a fool of by the other captain. Their only chance of surviving this day was to destroy the enemy vessel before the other two vessels arrived. His ship could take them one or two at a time, but engaging all three at the same time lowered their odds of winning such a fight.
Darting a glance over his shoulder at his security officer, he jerked his chin towards the Moltan vessel on the screen. “We appear to have our work cut out for us. Let’s see if we can destroy the Moltan ship before his comrades arrive.”
Tabor scrambled to follow his orders. “Yes sir. I’m readying laser cannons and loading photonic phase grenades, and also positioning our fighters.”
Shooting his communications officer a stern look, Meric instructed, “Kaldok, contact the Yuroba freighter. Alert them that we have two Moltan ships incoming. Tell them to pull out all their reserves and prepare for a prolonged battle to the death. If we are not victorious this day, the enemy will allow none but the queens to survive.”
Meric barked orders harshly. “Increase our outer shielding. Maintain position between the two ships and do not give the Moltan an opportunity to fire upon them again.” As his crew scrambled to execute his orders, Meric switched back on the com. “This is the last opportunity you will be given to cease your attack. Do not start a war between our peoples over contraband females. I will fire on your vessel. You would not survive an assault by my ship, for we are heavily armed.”
“You are smug and self-righteous. Soon you will learn the error of your ways, Dracon. No one steals from the Moltan and lives.”
An exterior schematic of the ship popped up on the screen at the front of the room. The crew watched the Raspian’s huge laser cannons release from the housing units on each side of the massive ship and be
gin to shift into place, graceful and measured as a dance. If ever a crew loved a ship, these men loved the Raspian. No wonder ships are female, Calen thought in a state near ecstasy. A timer in the corner of the screen counted down the arming sequence. A web of portals covering the ship's hull opened, and grenade launchers snapped into place. It felt good to protect others, especially innocent queens, Meric thought. Warriors lived for days like this.
Tabor’s excited voice sounded off the moment Meric shut off the com. “The laser cannons and photonic phase grenades are armed, and our fighters are ready for lift off.”
“Fire at will and then open the chutes for our fighters. Remind them that the lives of many queens are at stake. They are to show no mercy nor give quarter to our deceptive opponents.”
“Understood, sir.”
Standing before the view screen, Meric watched the destruction he’d ordered play out in horrific detail. The battle-hardened warrior didn’t flinch when the first phase grenade made it through Moltan shields, attached to the side of the enemy vessel, and blew a huge chunk out of the ship, nor when part of a body floated by, still twitching from being torn apart. Though sounds of shock echoed around him, Meric just sat grimly in his chair. He toggled his attention between the progress his fighters were making and the timer, now counting down the time until the remaining Moltan ships reached the outer limits of his weapons’ range.
2 Hero Worship
Stacy
Phan sat at his station, monitoring the medical console. “Watching cells grow is boring.” He was slumped over the console, leaning his chin on one upturned palm. His still developing horns and wings were drooping. She guessed he must be around fourteen or fifteen. Draconians fast-tracked their younger warriors through training in every department. Stacy knew the bored young man was hoping to become a Healer, so it was a good thing that he was learning just how mundane some duties were in the healing unit.
Stacy walked across the room and peered into the bank of thirty-six white boxes, holding an assortment of tissue and organ cells. They were being grown at an accelerated rate using Draconian medical technologies. Glancing at her young apprentice, she chastised him gently. “Too bad. We need them ready in case of medical emergencies. Lots of our duties are necessary if we’re to save lives. I’m interested in doing whatever prep work that will give me the positive outcome I’m seeking.”