Ronan

by Leslie Chase

  Ronan

  A Crashland Colony Romance

  Leslie Chase

  RONAN

  Editing by Sennah Tate

  Copyright 2019 Leslie Chase

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Ronan

  2. Becca

  3. Ronan

  4. Becca

  5. Ronan

  6. Becca

  7. Ronan

  8. Becca

  9. Ronan

  10. Becca

  11. Ronan

  12. Becca

  13. Ronan

  14. Becca

  15. Ronan

  16. Becca

  17. Ronan

  18. Becca

  19. Ronan

  20. Becca

  21. Ronan

  22. Becca

  Epilogue

  About Leslie Chase

  Sci Fi Romance by Leslie Chase

  Paranormal Romance by Leslie Chase

  1

  Ronan

  The curve of Crashland’s horizon caught the last light of the setting sun, clouds beneath me shining like a golden blanket. Above, the stars shone bright and tempting in the velvet darkness of space. Close enough to call to me, yet far out of reach.

  “Ronan, you’re flying too high,” Marak said through the radio, breaking my moment of peace. A snarl on my face, I bit back the retort that leaped to my lips. My brother was trying to help.

  “I know what this ship can do,” I said, keeping my voice calm. Losing my temper with flight control wouldn’t help, even if the restrictions the humans placed on us were ridiculous. “Don’t worry, I won’t damage the precious flier.”

  “You know that, I know that, but the humans? Remember how hard we worked getting them to trust you with one in the first place. Stick to their flight plan if you want to stay in the air.”

  I didn’t want to stay in the air, though. I wanted to rise above it, zoom through the vacuum of space, go back to how things had been before the crash. Back when I’d been a fighter pilot, a killer.

  With a deep breath I took another look at the stars that called to me like home. This high up the atmosphere was thin, hardly anything between my craft and the starlight. I could almost pretend I was in my fighter, hunting through space for enemies of the Silver Band.

  Not piloting this flying brick with its ridiculously short range and inadequate vacuum sealing. The crash had reduced me to a cargo pilot, and that sounded more like a curse than a job to me. But Marak was right, it was the only way I’d get to fly at all.

  My knuckles paled as I gripped the control stick, preparing to descend to the level the humans called ‘safe.’ They were paranoid about their fliers — the over-engineered blocks of metal were slow, clumsy and stupid, but if they had one virtue it was that they were tolerant. Designed to be flown by human amateurs, the fliers could take a lot of punishment.

  Just as I began to push the stick forward and start my descent, a flicker on the long-range sensors caught my eye. Unknown contact, it said. I frowned, tapped the display. It would be just the kind of joke fate liked to play if the sensors had broken while I thought about how reliable the ship was.

  A quick diagnostic check showed no sign of any damage or error. The sensors saw the Wandering Star’s beacon and the emergency alerts that marked human settlements. Nothing missing, nothing new except one faint and distant signal, almost undetectable.

  My first thought was that another colony pod had come online. The crash of the Wandering Star had scattered them all across the planet, and many remained to be discovered. But the flier would have recognized that signal at once, so no.

  Something else was broadcasting, something new. My heart beat faster and instead of descending I pulled back on the stick, climbing higher still and turning towards the signal.

  “Ronan?” My brother’s voice broke into my concentration. In the background I heard muttered comments, human voices. Without answering, I killed the connection. Let them worry, I had more important things to do than reassure them.

  The signal grew stronger, more data appearing on the screen, and I cursed the primitive human technology. Whatever I’d found, it was more advanced than my scanners; they barely picked it up.

  Not a human signal, then, and not prytheen either. I’d recognize my people’s technology if by some miracle someone got it working. The trap that brought down our ships had drained all the charge from our batteries — not even our personal blasters had power, let alone whatever could broadcast this.

  “Higher,” I whispered to the flier. “We’ll see more if we’re higher.”

  Pushing the throttle, I sent us shooting upward, the flier vibrating as I demanded more and more from it. Sensors drank in what information they could, and I diverted spare power to them. The signal was complex, and I had the feeling that I wasn’t seeing all of it.

  Behind me something popped, and the hologram display flickered. Air rushed from the cabin as somewhere aboard the seals gave way. Dropping pressure ripped the breath from my lungs, and my vision grayed at the edges as I struggled to breathe.

  With a curse I dropped back into the atmosphere, the hull glowing deep red as I descended too quickly for the blocky shape of the flier to take. Smoke filled the thickening air and half the warning lights on the control panel lit up, demanding my attention.

  Ignoring them I fought the stick, stabilizing my flight and dragging the ship back around toward the landing field outside the Wandering Star. The flier shuddered, struggling for lift, and my lungs burned. Despite that, a fierce grin stretched across my face. I’d thought my days as a sky-hunter had passed, but I’d caught the trail of fresh prey.

  The landing field beside the Wandering Star was nothing more than a crudely flattened area of earth fused into a solid surface. I set the flier down away from the three other craft and killed the remaining engines. Two hadn’t survived the sudden reentry, and red warning lights suggested that the rest wouldn’t last long. But they’d brought me back safely, which was all I needed of them.

  Dumping the sensor logs to a removable drive, I pulled it free of the console and leaped to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins, pushing me to run. Controlling the urge, I opened the cargo ramp and marched down to face the welcoming committee.

  “What did you do?” Auric, the Alpha of what remained of the Silver Band, glared at me as I jumped down from the flier. His mouth twisted into an angry snarl, he stalked forward and I saw danger in his eyes. I refused to back down. He might have taken charge, but that didn’t make him my Alpha — if Miira, my clan leader, was even on this cursed planet she hadn’t made herself known yet.

  Auric wasn’t alone. Behind him, Marak paced anxiously, and I knew my brother would have done everything he could to soften our leader’s anger. I might not need or want the help, but he was my kin and there was no way to stop him giving it.

  To one side a human flight crew looked at the flier, aghast. Understandable. The plink of cooling metal, the acrid smell of burning plastics, the hiss of the fire suppression system, all told a story without me needing to look back at the damaged craft. As soon as I stepped off the ramp, they hurried past me to save what they could.

  I ignored them, meeting Auric’s gaze levelly. “It was necessary.”

  “The humans let us use the fliers,” Auric said, voice cold as the gulf between the stars. “It took hard bargaining to get that, and the argument that we are better pilots than any of them. Now you bring back… this.”

 
As if on cue, the damaged landing gear gave way behind me and the flier hit the crude landing field with an awful crunch. The flight crew stared in horror then rushed forward, one human grabbing a fire extinguisher. If looks were lasers, their glares would have burned a hole through my chest.

  None of that mattered. I grinned triumphantly and held up the hard drive from the sensor suite. “You will understand when you see this, Auric. I detected another civilization on the planet.”

  Auric’s mouth closed with a snap and my grin widened. We spoke Galtrade, a concession to the human audience. Few of them spoke the simplified interstellar language well, but I doubted any of them spoke prytheen. Even in Galtrade only one of them seemed to follow my words.

  Tamara, the human leader and Auric’s khara, stepped to his side and placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes were wide, but her voice calm as she spoke with a horrendous accent. “Did you say what I think you did?”

  “There is another civilization on Crashland,” I said, speaking slowly and clearly. How Auric could put up with a human as his soulmate I didn’t know: they were a weak and primitive people, not suitable matches for warriors like the prytheen of the Silver Band.

  But then, fate chose our mates for us, and it wasn’t Auric’s fault it shackled him to a human female. Perhaps it was even beneficial. Having the leaders of both communities khara-bound to one another made the Joint Colony run more smoothly.

  As long as I didn’t have to make that sacrifice. My soul belonged to the stars.

  Tamara reached for the drive, but I refused to give it up. Eyes narrowing at my lack of respect for his mate, Auric snatched it from my hands and passed it to her.

  “Report,” he snapped at me as though I were a lowly scout in his clan. I bristled, claws sliding out, but my news was too important to let my anger get in the way.

  “Someone is sending a signal,” I said. “The human sensors barely detected it, and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t flown so high. It must have started broadcasting after we crashed, or we’d have seen it on the way in… but it is no prytheen signal, nor is it human. From what I saw, I believe I detected leakage from a faster than light relay.”

  Auric’s eyes widened at that, and he opened his mouth to taste the air. A hunter’s expression, looking for prey — and in that we were the same. Sending signals faster than light was difficult even for us, and few of the Silver Band’s ships had the capability. We’d had a relay on our homeworld, and our greatest warships carried them. Nothing smaller could manage.

  This meant civilization, an escape from the Crashland. Auric’s angry expression cleared as he looked to the sky. Losing a flier was a small price to pay for a chance at freedom.

  “Taveshi,” he said, naming the empire that claimed this planet. “A colony, perhaps? An observation station?”

  “There can’t be a colony,” Tamara said, still looking at the drive. A hologram of a small mammal examined it with her, the human’s strange AI companion accessing the stored data for her. “We don’t know much about the Tavesh Empire, but we wouldn’t have missed a whole settlement.”

  I didn’t like to admit it, but she was right. The Taveshi were an ancient and mysterious power, but no matter how advanced their technology we’d have seen a colony. Still, I looked in the direction of the mysterious signal and grinned.

  “We cannot be sure, Captain,” I said, giving Auric’s khara her formal title. Perhaps it would smooth ruffled fur. “There is only one way to find out — give me a flier and I will go and explore.”

  Her eyes snapped up from the glowing display of the hologram, wide and incredulous. “Seriously? You wrecked one already, and we don’t have any way of manufacturing more. You want me to give you another?”

  Auric took her arm and said something in the human’s language, calming her. The two spoke quickly, words flying back and forth, neither happy with the situation.

  I didn’t like the like the sound of it. While I didn’t speak a word of the humans’ ‘English’ the tone was clear, and if Tamara got her way Auric would ground me while another claimed the prize I’d found. That I would not accept.

  “I saw this prey first, and I claim it for my hunt,” I said formally, interrupting the conversation. My hand touched the hilt of a knife as I nodded my head to Auric. “For the glory of the Silver Band and the Joint Colony of Crashland.”

  This meant accepting his authority personally, not just the leader of the community I lived in. I was making a commitment to him, and to the Joint Colony he’d founded with his mate. Fine. Anything that got me back to the stars.

  Auric snarled at the interruption but didn’t argue. If I hadn’t seen the signal no one would know it was even there — denying me the right to this hunt wouldn’t sit well with the other prytheen he commanded.

  His khara’s outrage was his problem to overcome. Auric looked from me to her and pursed his lips, thinking. In a strange, almost human gesture, Auric threw up his hands. “You saw the prey first, Ronan. It is yours to pursue, I acknowledge that as Alpha—”

  I bared my teeth in triumph, but Auric kept speaking.

  “—and my khara will send a human to accompany you on the journey.”

  “I don’t need anyone getting in my way,” I said, the fierce joy draining away as fast as it had come. My time alone in the cockpit of a flier was precious. “A human will just slow me down.”

  Auric bared his own teeth. A human might have seen a smile: I recognized it as a challenge. And one I couldn’t answer, not when I’d just acknowledged him as my Alpha.

  “The fliers are theirs, Ronan,” he said, voice hard and brooking no debate. “And you just wrecked one. If you want another, you must compromise.”

  My teeth ground together as I resisted making the obvious suggestion. He wouldn’t listen, I knew that. Auric had made a pact with the humans and would not simply take a flier from them.

  Better a human companion than not going at all, I told myself and nodded my agreement. Auric’s expression lightened and he clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Do not look so disheartened, Ronan,” he said, leading me toward the waiting shadow of the Wandering Star. “You may even end up making a friend.”

  I snorted at the idea. Friends? I’d never had a use for them. But if traveling with a human was the price of getting back to the stars, I’d pay it gladly. I just hoped this human would stay out of my way.

  2

  Becca

  “Out of my way, sthec,” I snarled at the blue-skinned hunting party who blocked my path. The prytheen in front of me froze, surprised at a human cursing him in his own language. I put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed, hard. The alien took a stumbling step back, his face darkening, but I didn’t care if he was angry. I was angry too.

  “Touch me again, human, and I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? Attack us again?” I stepped forward, glaring, and around us the market crowd fell silent to watch the confrontation. I ignored them. “You’ve done enough damage already. Now fuck off.”

  The alien didn’t know how to deal with a human who could shout at him in his own language. His hand darted to a knife at his belt, but I refused to back off. He stopped himself before he drew it. The terms of the truce between prytheen and humans in the Joint Colony were clear: if he hurt me he’d face exile or worse.

  With a final wordless growl, the prytheen raider turned and stomped away. Laughing, his friends followed him. Megan hurried after me, muttering something apologetic as we passed the group. She’d always been more conciliatory than I had.

  “I thought you liked aliens, Becca,” she hissed at me as we left them behind and trudged up the hill towards the Colony market. “You put so much effort into learning to speak to them, would it kill you to be polite?”

  “I studied languages because on Arcadia we were going to meet dozens of different species,” I said. “Not just these blue-skinned brutes. I’d rather live off fishing than be a translator for them.”

  Megan chuckle
d. “You say that now, but wait a few months. You’ll be sick to death of fish guts.”

  I already was, but I wasn’t about to admit that. The big blue bastards had trapped us here on Crashland. If they hadn’t attacked our ship, we’d have woken up on Arcadia — a beautiful planet with infrastructure, a spaceport, modern industry. Here we’d been reduced to carrying baskets of fish to market on foot. And still the prytheen hung around, smug and superior.

  Megan had a point, I’d always wanted to meet aliens. Growing up I’d read as much as I could about them, studied whatever languages I got my hands on, prayed that one day I’d get to speak to them. And it was my language skills that had gotten me in the door with the Arcadia Colony Company. They’d been willing to overlook the weaknesses in my application for a human able to talk to aliens.

  Like most of the colonists, Megan had joined up for a chance to start over on a fresh planet, to escape a dying Earth. Me, I entered the lottery for the chance to meet an alien. And when against all the odds I won, I’d faced my fears and gotten into the stasis pod for the long, slow trip to another world.

  Only to wake up here, on the wrong planet, trapped with the asshole aliens who’d shot down our colony ship. Fuck my life.

  We crested the hill, the crashed hulk of the Wandering Star rising out of the hillside, and I gritted my teeth at the sight. Megan put down her basket and gave me a hug — we’d made this trip often enough since the crash that she knew how I’d react.