Her Alien Alpha (Salvaged Hearts Book 1)

by Leslie Chase

  I grabbed a second and twisted its cap. Instantly a shimmering force-bubble sprang into existence around me, and the cylinder coughed air to fill it. Cold, dry air, filled with a scent of burning plastics, but it held oxygen and that was enough.

  I sucked in deep breaths, looking at the ten remaining cylinders. Even if they all worked, they wouldn’t buy me more than a few of Carrie’s hours. It wasn’t anywhere near enough to keep me alive, but it did give me a chance to think.

  Lost Home, there has to be some way to survive here. The ship supported ten thousand Imperials. How can it not have life support left for one Caibar?

  A blink as I realized what I’d said and thought about it. Yes, that might work. Grabbing the remains of the suits and the Archive, I scrambled towards the core of the ship, checking room after room until at last I found a small one without a hole in any of the walls. Some kind of security station, I guessed from the furnishings, but that didn’t matter now.

  What did matter was that it had a door that sealed. Shoving the Archive against a wall, I forced the door shut behind me. I tore panels from the walls, searching for the piping I knew had to be there.

  My vision started graying at the edges before I found a column of pipes running behind the wall paneling. Color coded, which did me no good — I’d never needed to know which color of pipe carried air. All I could think to do was tearing them open at random, hoping I didn’t pull open a fuel line by accident. The first pipe sprayed water, boiling instantly in the vacuum. I cursed, pulling a second from its fittings and hoping it wasn’t a fuel line.

  Pressure vented into the room, my ears popped, and I sucked in a lungful. I’d never breathed anything so sweet as this stale air. Air that had sat for decades in the piping, waiting for this moment. Air that I’d use up soon enough, but it bought me time.

  That was what I needed most. My suit’s comm systems were wrecked, split open by a stray Chrichri claw, but the shredded suits I’d taken from the survival station still had theirs. Damaged in the explosion that had ruined the suits themselves, they no longer functioned, but between the three of them I should be able to put together one working comm. Hoping the parts were compatible enough, I set to work.

  Being able to communicate would be the first step in any plan to survive, and the rest would follow from there.

  Patching the comms unit made me wish for Termek. With his field engineering training he’d have fixed it in moments. I didn’t have his skill, and the air grew thinner and staler as I struggled.

  “Come on, come on, work,” I snarled at the patchwork electronics spread out before me. “I’m not asking much, but if you don’t I will throw you into the sun.”

  A futile threat without a ship to get me there, but it made me feel better. I closed the connectors for what seemed like the thousandth time, wincing at the crack of sparks.

  But this time, the speakers hissed to life. Tension I hadn’t been aware of left my shoulders and I let out a slow breath, reaching for the jury-rigged controls.

  The radio frequencies were full of static, leaking radiation interfering beyond my ability to block it out. But with difficulty I caught snatches of other signals, the harsh click-clicking of Chrichri speech. My translator implant kicked in at once, doing its best, but the hive-speech of the insectoids was difficult at the best of times. A search pattern, that much I could tell. They were looking for something — either the Archive or me, I guessed.

  Fortunately, their hive ship was out of range of their signals. Without a link to their hive, they’d be stupid, predictable, easy to avoid. A Chrichri relied on the group mind for anything other than simple patterns of behavior.

  The bad news was that I only knew one reason for the Doha Zadzad to be out of range: they had to be pursuing the Ladies’ Choice. My hearts beat faster at that, my body coiling ready for combat. But there was nothing I could do, except be ready when the Doha Zadzad returned… which meant finding the Chrichri’s base of operations. My odds against the entire ship were low, almost nonexistent, but if they came back with captives I’d take my chances to rescue Carrie.

  I refused to acknowledge the possibility that she’d die. It was a future too bleak to think about. She’d live and we’d be reunited, or I would tear the stars from the heavens.

  The air grew thick with carbon dioxide, my implants warning me of a dangerously low oxygen content. Time to move on. Now that I knew the piping still held some breathable air, I’d be able to make my way across the ship… until I found a working suit, the tools needed to repair mine, or hit a gap in the air pipes and died.

  19

  Carrie

  The deck vibrated under my feet as the Ladies’ Choice accelerated, Lily ignoring the engines’ safety limits. I should have been on the bridge, helping. Instead I clung to the airlock door, as though if I just wished hard enough, Delkor would open it.

  “Come on, Boss, you need to get away from there,” Bella said. “The airlock won’t be safe if they start shooting.”

  She was right, the airlocks were the thinnest parts of the hull, the most likely to get blown open. Better to be far from them if something happened.

  And as long as I sat here, I kept Bella as well. She’d stay in danger to look after me. The thought of something happening to her because of my breakdown gave me the strength I needed to pull myself to my feet.

  “We’ll go back for him as soon as we can,” Bella said, sliding an arm around my shoulders and guiding me toward the bridge. “We’ll do everything possible.”

  “It won’t matter.” My voice sounded dull, leaden. “He’s dead. I saw the Chrichri tear his air tank off.”

  “If he’s dead, we’ll go back and give him a funeral.” Bella was pragmatic, and unwelcome as that was, it grounded me. “But remember, he said he can hold his breath for ten minutes. We don’t know he’s dead.”

  I didn’t dare to hope. This pain was bad enough once; I refused to risk going through it again if Delkor hadn’t survived. Still, somewhere deep in my soul, a glimmer of light shone. Maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t lost him.

  Smiling weakly at Bella, I managed a nod. “I’m sorry I dragged you all into this.”

  It was Michaela who answered, gruff voice over the comms. “Don’t be stupid, boss. We knew the risks and still went along with it.”

  “But we got nothing out of this trip,” I said, refusing to be comforted. “All I did was put you in danger. Some leader I am.”

  “Boss, this is not the time for you to be having a crisis of confidence,” Michaela said. “If you want us to chew you out, wait till we’re safe. Right now, we need you.”

  “We all agreed to take Delkor on,” Lily added. “Sure, you pushed for it, but we agreed. And he led us to a great prize. If those pirating bastards hadn’t jumped in, we’d be heading home with the Archive right now and cracking open that bottle of the good stuff Michaela thinks the rest of us don’t know about. What’s happened isn’t your fault, and it’s not his fault.”

  I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, and tried to accept my friends’ belief in me. It wasn’t easy, but it gave me something to cling to as I stepped onto the bridge.

  Munchkin launched himself at me, claws catching my suit and letting him clamber up to my shoulder. He looked this way and that, searching for Delkor, and then yowled in frustration.

  You and me both, buddy. I scratched behind his ears, feeling a strange comfort that I wasn’t the only one missing Delkor. Even if the other was this little fuzzy traitor who’d switched his affections over instantly.

  The tactical display showed me our situation, and I winced. Lily had done a good job, keeping the Golden Duke between us and the Doha Zadzad as long as possible. But the further we got from the wreck, the harder that was, and now the Doha had a clear line of sight to us.

  “Bella, get down to the engines, see if you can pull any more thrust from them,” I said. Not much chance, but no reason not to try. And if we took any battle damage, having our engineer right the
re to keep the engines working might save us all.

  The tactical display didn’t look good. We were outdistancing the other ship, but not fast enough. At this rate we’d be inside their weapons range far too long for comfort. Michaela sat at the scanner station, doing her best to shake the target locks that they were throwing our way, but the Ladies’ Choice wasn’t a military ship and sooner or later they’d get a fix on us. Then… well, the good news is that we were all in our suits. The first hull breach wouldn’t be fatal.

  Under the captain’s chair was a survival pack, or what passed for one with the supplier who’d sold us the Ladies’ Choice. I rummaged through it, digging out what it called an ‘emergency suit’ — more like a thick, clear plastic bag with a small air canister. I might fit in it, if I had to, but I never wanted to find out.

  “Sorry about this, Munchkin,” I said, pulling the fuzzball off my shoulder and shoving him into the bag. Claws lashed out and he hissed, and I hoped I hadn’t broken his trust in me completely. Better that than letting the vacuum get him if we took a hit, though.

  The bag sealed shut and air hissed in from the tank. Munchkin glared at me but settled down, resigned to his fate. One tiny life protected, I turned my attention to the rest of my responsibilities.

  “Give me comms,” I said, hoping that I’d be able to distract our enemies long enough to buy some time. With luck, maybe I could convince them to turn back — the Golden Duke held all the treasure they’d want. “Lily, try some maneuvers to throw them off.”

  “That’ll slow us down, boss,” she said, throwing the ship into a hard turn as she spoke. I nodded — it would be worth losing a little speed if it kept them from having a clean shot. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I keyed on my mic.

  “Uh, Doha Zadzad, this is the salvage ship Ladies’ Choice,” I said. With the comms set to all-frequency broadcast, they’d hear us if they were listening. “We’re licensed salvagers, here legally, and we have an empty hold. Break off your pursuit, we’re not worth the fuel you’ll burn catching us.”

  Their only answer was a laser blast that flickered past, missing by hundreds of feet. Without a target lock they didn’t have much chance of hitting — but they didn’t need a hit to scare us.

  “This is illegal harassment and we are in contact with our security services provider,” I said, imagining Delkor behind me and borrowing his confidence. My voice was steady, despite the pounding of my pulse.

  A rough laugh answered. “No, Carrie, you are not.”

  Syrcen’s voice. My heart sank, though I wasn’t really surprised. Of course he’d come himself rather than trusting mercenaries with something as valuable as the Golden Duke.

  Unfortunate, since his syndicate was also our security provider. The bluff had been a long shot, but Syrcen knew for sure that no one would rescue or avenge us. Fuck.

  “Syrcen, we’re on our way to pay you,” I said, switching lies. “We’ve got a valuable haul, we’ll make things right.”

  Another laser blast, closer this time. I licked dry lips and tried again.

  “You blow us up, you don’t get any loot,” I tried.

  “I let you go, I don’t get any either,” he pointed out. “If you make it back to the station and sell your prize goods, you’ll hire some mercs to keep me away.”

  “But you get to loot the Golden Duke Lyian,” I said. “We can’t stop you; you’ve got all the time you need to fill your hold with the prizes you can find aboard an Imperial flagship. Why waste fuel chasing us?”

  “Because you have the most valuable prize,” Syrcen growled. “The Imperial Archive Core. Heave to and let us have that, we’ll let you keep whatever else you’ve picked up.”

  Great. Fantastic. Fucking wonderful. He’d never believe that we didn’t have the Archive. At least there was some consolation in the fact that I didn’t believe his promises. Once he had the Ladies’ Choice in his grasp, why would he let us keep anything? We’d be out the airlock as soon as he had what he wanted. If we were lucky — he might have other designs on us I didn’t want to think about.

  But if he didn’t already have the archive, that implied one of two things. Either the Chrichri whose ship he’d hired were holding out on him, or none of them had survived the fight with Delkor. A tiny flash of satisfaction flashed through me at that, and an even smaller flame of hope lit in my heart.

  This wasn’t the time for that. I focused on trying to get us away alive.

  “If it’s the Archive you’re after, then you ought to be more careful about shooting at us,” I said, trying to use this to our advantage. “Put a laser bolt through us, you’re likely to wreck the treasure you’re after.”

  His angry growl told me I’d scored a hit. Great. It was only putting the problem off, but if we got out of range, we’d have a week or more to come up with a plan to deal with him for good.

  A glance at the tactical display told me we were still minutes away from escaping, and Michaela wouldn’t be able to fight the lock for that long. Syrcen had to buy my bluff.

  But he didn’t. “Heave to, or I’ll take my chances. What do I care if the Archive survives? Either I own it, or I destroy it.”

  Fuck.

  “Target lock.” Michaela’s voice was tight, tense. Lily’s response was instant, sending us into an unpredictable spin. Trading speed for safety.

  But the Doha didn’t spit lasers. Instead, a pair of missiles shot from its wings, speeding towards us. I had just enough time to call a warning before they separated, one flying to each side of the Choice and bracketing us with explosions.

  Static flared on all the displays and the comms squealed. The gravity flickered, Lily cursed, and the Ladies’ Choice shuddered as the drive flared wildly. Sudden acceleration threw my head against the comms console and everything went dark.

  When my vision cleared, everyone was shouting damage reports and static covered the screens. Lily was already at work, pulling open inspection hatches and resetting fuses. A few readouts cleared, none of them reporting good news. We were still target locked, and the Doha Zadzad was closing on us fast.

  “Bella, status,” I croaked into the comm. Beside me, Munchkin flailed wildly in his bag, his mouth open in a tiny silent scream. No air — the hull had been punctured. Thank god we were all suited up.

  “Engine control’s rebooting, three minutes minimum,” Bella said in the quick, terse voice of someone too busy to be frightened. “Manual override would give us thrust, but nothing safe or subtle. Basically full speed or full stop, with a ten percent chance of exploding.”

  Lily muttered darkly into the comm, throwing burned out components over her shoulder and paying no attention to where they ended up. The spares she took more care with, slotting each into place in her console.

  “We don’t have flight control,” she said, voice tight and angry. “I can’t steer the ship.”

  Not good. Not good at all. Flying blind and not being able to turn, we’d be sitting ducks for Syrcen and his allies. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think. What would Delkor do?

  Die fighting was the only answer that came to mind, and it wasn’t helpful. We couldn’t even do that — the closest we’d manage was ‘die running’ which seemed entirely pointless.

  That only left one option. One way that I might get my crew out of this mess alive.

  Fuck.

  Praying that the ship’s comms still worked, I switched them back on. Crackling and hissing, the channel opened.

  “We surrender,” I said quickly, before anyone got impatient and launched another shot. “Doha Zadzad, do you read? The Ladies’ Choice surrenders.”

  A cold laugh. “I’d tell you to cut your engines, but I’ve taken care of that for you.”

  I bit back my first response, took a deep breath, and tried not to let my anger show. “We’ll stay stationary and wait for you to board us. There will be no resistance. No need for more violence.”

  The signal cut off and I swore, cutting my suit’s comms so the
others wouldn’t hear. This was the end of our adventure — even if Syrcen let us live, we’d lost our ship and our savings. Our business venture was finished.

  In the time it took the Doha Zadzad to reach us, Bella repaired the gravity and between them Alice and Jen patched the holes in our hull. The sealant wouldn’t hold up under fire, but at least it let us repressurize the ship.

  I hoped it wasn’t a waste of our air supply, but it was that or let the air out of the parts of the Ladies’ Choice that were still intact. Despite his protests, I kept Munchkin in his pressure suit. No reason to think he wouldn’t need it again soon.

  The other ship closed on us, a huge and ominous dark shape, wings spread wide and docking tunnel extended like a monstrous proboscis. It edged closer to our cargo airlock, and I pulled myself out of the captain’s chair.

  Michaela stood with me, checking the blaster pistol clipped to her belt. I shot her a look.

  “Where are you going?”

  The expression that crossed her face could, technically, be called a smile. “I’m not letting you go meet Syrcen on your own again. Look what happened last time.”

  “I’m not going to fight them—“

  “Only takes one side to decide it’s a fight,” Michaela interrupted. “I’m security, and I’m not letting you meet those bastards alone.”

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. There wasn’t time to argue and besides, Michaela had a point.

  “Fine, but lock the guns up first.” I saw her start to object and kept talking, giving her no chance to interrupt. “If we show up armed they might assume that we’re picking a fight, and that won’t go well for us. We’re surrendering, if they want to kill us we can’t stop them. All we can do is try to keep them from wanting to.”

  Saying it aloud made me realize how fucked we were. But Syrcen didn’t have any reason to be angry with any of the others, just me and Delkor. With Delkor already… gone… that only left me. With any luck I’d convince him that the others should go free.