Her Alien Alpha (Salvaged Hearts Book 1)

by Leslie Chase

  Bad odds, not that I had any choice in the matter. Already my blood boiled with a rage that demanded vengeance on the thug who threatened my beloved. My hand trembling with tension, I activated the air cylinder on my belt. A small forcefield popped into existence around me as stale air escaped the cylinder to fill the bubble. Just enough atmosphere to breath and talk. I keyed my comm on.

  “I’m here, Syrcen, and I have the Archive. Now let the humans board their ship.”

  The Drall grinned into the darkness, beady eyes searching for me. But the shadows were enough to keep me hidden from him. “Come now, Delkor, you know I need to see my prize before I give you what you want. Bring the Archive out where I can see it.”

  “Not until you make a gesture. Bring the humans’ ship in to dock if you won’t send them out to it. Show me you intend to honor our bargain.”

  His laugh was cold and cruel, and I wondered if even he thought it would fool anyone. He had no intention of letting his prisoners go. Still, he had little to lose bringing the ship closer, so he gave the order. The Ladies’ Choice fired its maneuvering jets, drifting close enough to extend an airlock into the hangar. A Drall leaped out of it, drifting down to the deck. Maybe he’d been the only thug aboard, maybe not. I had no way to tell.

  “There, that’s your assurance,” Syrcen said. “The human ship is here, and my pilot’s left it empty. Now give me what I’m here for, Caibar, or I’ll throw the humans out of the bubble one by one.”

  One of the Chrichri grabbed a human, dragging her toward the edge of the field. My hearts hammered — it wasn’t Carrie, but all the women were my friends now.

  “Very well, I’m bringing it out,” I said quickly. It wasn’t difficult to sound on edge, the hard part was keeping my rage from showing through. I kicked myself back to the Archive, then pulled it forward, sending it drifting into the empty space of the hold.

  “There, take it,” I said as the guards noticed the bulky monolith tumbling toward them. “Take it and let my humans go.”

  As I’d known he would, Syrcen laughed. “Not so fast, friend, I need to check the merchandise. Then they can go free.”

  “Let half of them go now,” I suggested. The fewer innocents in the line of fire the better. But Syrcen wasn’t about to give up any of his power, or his victims.

  “You have no leverage to demand anything,” he snarled back. “You can wait until I know you’re not just giving me a chunk of masonry you ripped off a wall, see?”

  Four of his minions had the Archive under control now, pushing it towards the bubble. The rest searched for me, and it wouldn’t take them long to track me down. The direction the Archive had come from gave them a good starting point.

  Slow and careful, I pulled myself along the hangar’s roof, keeping to the shadows. The longer I put off my discovery, the better.

  Syrcen’s gleeful hiss drew my attention back to him as the Archive entered the force bubble. He ran his hands over it, touching and caressing the controls, watching lights flicker across the monolith’s surface. A treasure beyond price if he could access it, all the secrets of the Empire.

  Including Home’s location.

  I sucked in a deep breath and readied myself, braced against the twisted metal of the hangar. Perhaps sensing something, Carrie looked in my direction. Our eyes met, and I saw the bright hope in her gaze.

  I will not fail you, I promised, thumbing a button on my comm and uncoiling in a leap that aimed me straight at my foe.

  Syrcen opened his mouth to speak, but I’d never learn what treachery he had in mind. My final comm signal hadn’t been meant for him.

  Inside an expended air cylinder, the device I’d built from scraps of communicator heard the signal and activated. It was a crude thing, only capable of generating a spark, but that was enough.

  I’d refilled all the air cylinders with a mix of oxygen and volatile fuel and fitted the improvised detonator in one of them. The spark ignited the mixture, and the first cylinder’s explosion triggered the rest.

  The bundle, glued to the base of the Archive, flew apart in a fireball, sending shrapnel everywhere as the Archive became a crude rocket

  For a moment, the force bubble filled with flying shards of metal, a pall of smoke, chaos and confusion. Then the rapidly expanding gasses added too much pressure for the portable field to handle. The bubble popped moments before I reached it, atmosphere rushing out into the vacuum.

  Into the void it left, I threw my air cylinder. As though we’d rehearsed this a hundred times, Carrie stretched up a hand and caught it, bringing it in close so that her companions could huddle with her. The forcefield was just large enough for the humans and the air wouldn’t last long, not with six people breathing it, but it didn’t have to. This fight would be over fast. It had to be, now that I had no air supply of my own. In a few minutes, I’d have won — or I’d be dead.

  One way or another, it would end here.

  21

  Carrie

  The forcefield popped into existence around the six of us moments after the bubble of breathable air vanished. Even that short exposure to vacuum was bad enough — my ears rang, eyes hurt, and the saliva in my mouth tried to freeze and boil at the same time. Another second and the cylinder would have been too late to save us, and I shuddered, imagining our fate if I’d missed the catch. All six of us, dying in agony as the vacuum ripped the life from us.

  Instead, we lived. The six of us huddled, barely fitting inside the forcefield, gasping down the metallic-tasting air.

  Outside our little bubble Syrcen reared back, silent in the sudden vacuum. Scrambling for the helmet on his belt, he was flatfooted for the seconds he needed to pull it on. Long enough for the tumbling remains of the Archive monolith to smack into him, sending him flying. He vanished into the fog of ice crystals forming around us, moisture in the air freezing in the cold of space.

  Syrcen’s gun tumbled from his grasp and I grabbed for it as it spun past. Too slow. It struck my fingers hard enough to make me yelp, then spun out of reach.

  Damn it. Guess I’m doing this unarmed.

  The Chrichri guarding us brought up its stun-gun, ignoring the sudden vacuum. It seemed to move in slow motion, black chitinous hands aiming the massive barrel of the weapon at me. My reactions were even slower, and I barely moved as its finger tightened on the trigger.

  Michaela reacted faster, her kick unbalancing the thug and sending its shot went wide. The other guard’s gun tracked her, and I knew that any hit would send her out of the emergency bubble to her death.

  Then Delkor arrived like an avenging angel descending from heaven. A blade flashed in his hand, severing the Chrichri’s arms at the elbows before Delkor even reached the deck. He landed in a crouch, bounding off toward the second Chrichri.

  He moved through the ice clouds with a grace I hardly believed, a beautiful dance of death as he swooped in to save me. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, to speak — but I was so slow I barely managed to watch. Impossibly fast, he soared past us and past his enemy. For a moment it looked like he’d missed his mark, but then the Chrichri’s head rolled to the side, black ichor boiling into the vacuum. My mate was even more deadly than I’d realized.

  Delkor vanished into the fog again, leaving a swirling trail of particles in his wake. I shook off my feeling of awe and tried to use the opportunity he’d bought us.

  “We’ve got to get to the ship,” I said, clinging to the others and hoping I didn’t sound as panicked as I felt. “Quick, before we run out of air or one of the bad guys remembers us.”

  They were too busy searching for any sign of Delkor now, but once we were moving we’d be a target. I needed to get us to safety, and fast. The others nodded shakily, looking up at the Ladies' Choice. It drifted in space, not docked to the Golden Duke Lyian, its airlock tantalizingly close.

  That distance shouldn’t be an issue; slow and careful would get us there. The problem was that right now, slow and careful would get us all killed.

/>   Time for fast and irresponsible.

  “All together,” I said, aiming us at the airlock. “Jump!”

  As though we’d practiced this stupid move, we pushed off the deck in unison toward the Ladies’ Choice. Once our boot magnets left the deck nothing held us down and we tumbled over and over, clinging to each other to stay inside the forcefield. The air was already going bad, and I wondered where Delkor had gotten this broken-down gadget.

  Yeah, maybe you can write them a complaint, I thought with a silent giggle. If we live through this, it gets a five-star review.

  I recognized the giggle as a bad sign — my brain was running low on oxygen, and none of the others would be any better off. All we need is to reach the airlock. And hope Syrcen hasn’t figured out how to lock us out of our own ship.

  Alice screamed as a Drall enforcer loomed out of the smoke and fog, floating into our path and bringing up his gun. No stun gun for this one, he had a laser ready to fire. Then in a flash of blue skin, Delkor crossed my field of vision. His tail slashed sideways as he passed, opening up the Drall’s suit, and the alien mobster suddenly had more important things to think about than us. He clutched at the edges the tear with both hands, trying to hold it closed while air whistled out.

  We left him behind, flying onward toward the ship, and I craned my neck to watch Delkor. Even through the veil of clouds cloaking the hangar he was incredible to watch. Leaping from wall to ceiling to floor in impossibly graceful movements, taking advantage of cover and speed to keep his enemies off balance.

  Lasers snapped at him, but none came near, and then he collided with a Chrichri. A flurry of movements too quick to follow and the mercenary went limp, black ichor leaking from its carapace and boiling to vapor.

  Delkor spun the body, blocking a Drall’s laser shot with the chitinous corpse. As the Drall moved clumsily to get a better angle, Delkor threw the body straight at him. He followed close behind it, tail snaking around the corpse and punching through the Drall’s armored spacesuit with ease.

  Entranced by the whirlwind of death my mate had become, I didn’t realize we’d crossed the gap to our ship until we hit the hull of the Ladies’ Choice and bounced. For a heart-stopping moment I thought we’d spin back into the hangar, or worse, out into the void. The air in our little bubble was almost unbreathable now, and darkness crept in at the edge of my vision. We wouldn’t have another chance.

  But Lily’s reflexes saved us. Our pilot snatched hold of an anchor point and held on grimly as the weight of the rest of us hit her shoulder. The five of us clung to her and she hissed in pain, but her grip held.

  We slammed into the hull again and this time everyone grabbed a handhold. I barely focused enough to find the controls, yanking the emergency lever. The locks were, thank god and Einstein, still damaged from Syrcen’s break in: it should have asked for an access code which I couldn’t remember.

  Instead, the airlock slid open at once and the six of us tumbled inside. Bella reached the emergency cycle switch first, and as soon as she pulled it the hatch slammed shut behind us. Air rushed into the chamber, and I flung the used-up emergency cylinder away hard. We all stumbled through the opening inner hatch into the Choice’s main corridor before collapsing — no one stayed in an airlock unless they had to.

  The recycled, slightly-off smell of the ship’s air was like a taste of heaven, and I closed my eyes, taking long, deep breaths. All around me my crew did the same. We’d done it. We’d made it back alive.

  Not over yet, I thought, forcing myself to sit up. Delkor’s still out there, and we’ve still got to get away from the Doha Zadzad.

  “Get—“ I coughed, throat raw and sore from my brief exposure to vacuum. “Get to the cockpit, Lily. Bella, to engineering. And Michaela?”

  “Yeah?” She was already on her feet, though she didn’t look in better shape than the rest of us.

  “Grab some weapons. I’m getting helmets,” I said, pulling myself to my feet painfully. “Then we’re going back out to help Delkor.”

  “He gave us his only air supply,” Michaela pointed out. “Don’t think he expects to survive this. He’d want us to get the hell out of here while we have a chance.”

  “Oh? Then he can fucking spank me for ignoring what he wants,” the words were out before I realized what I was saying. My cheeks flushed but I kept going. “I’m not going to leave him behind. So vote me out as captain or help me save him.”

  Michaela flashed me one of her rare smiles, nodded, and set off at a stumbling run. The others got up too, staggering off to their posts. A moment later I was alone in the corridor, watching the airlock as though if stared hard enough I’d be able to see through the metal. Would we be any help to Delkor? I didn’t know, but one thing was certain — sitting here and waiting, hoping he won on his own, would kill me.

  I grabbed a pair of spare helmets from the locker beside the airlock, pulled one on, and turned back to the airlock. Delkor might burst in, or one of our enemies might try to take refuge here. Either way, I was determined to be ready for anyone coming through those doors.

  That’s how Syrcen took me by surprise.

  He grabbed me from behind before I knew he was there, shockingly quiet for such a huge man. One massive hand caught my neck, another brought a blade around me while I choked. He lifted me off the deck, and if not for the spacesuit’s rigid protection I’m sure he would have crushed my throat.

  “Human scum,” Syrcen hissed, barely audible through my helmet. “If you don’t stop struggling and kill your comm, I’ll skin you alive and let Delkor find what’s left.”

  I switched off my comm and froze, knowing he meant it. That razor-sharp knife of his pressed against my stomach, and it wouldn’t take much of his strength to plunge it through into my flesh. The only wonder was that he hadn’t killed me yet.

  “Better,” he said, a hint of his former smugness returning. “Keep doing as you’re told, and we’ll all get back to the station intact. Or mostly so.”

  “Can’t—“ I struggled to force out the words. “Can’t speak if — can’t breathe—“

  The pressure on my throat relented slightly, just enough for me to suck in a welcome lungful of air. After today I swore that I’d never take oxygen for granted again.

  “Fragile things,” my captor said. “What a Caibar sees in you I’ve no idea, but then your man out there’s a twisted fucker. Now, tell your pilot to launch and get us out of here. Don’t try to tell her anything else or do anything clever. Remember, I’m in charge, and if you try something, you’ll die painfully and so will your friends.”

  Struggling to form words, I tried to think. Going along with him would be suicide. At best we’d last until we reached the station: more likely he’d kill most of us on the way there. He only needed Bella in engineering, and maybe Lily if he didn’t know how to fly the ship himself.

  Cooperating was out of the question, but if I delayed him, kept him focused on me until Michaela came back armed…

  “Sure, yes, okay,” I said, letting myself babble on to buy some time. He shook me impatiently and I triggered my comm again.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Time to leave. Alice, take us out.”

  I bit my lip, hoping that Syrcen didn’t care enough about us humans to know one of my crew from another. The deadly blade didn’t move, his hand didn’t clamp down on my throat. So far so good.

  Now I had to hope that the others would get the hint.

  A long pause before we got an answer, long enough for sweat to bead on my forehead. Then Alice’s voice answered, sounding confused.

  “Uh, roger, Boss,” she said. “But shouldn’t I let Li—“

  “No need,” I blurted. “She’ll be busy checking on Michaela. Might need some first aid.”

  More confused silence. They had to know something was wrong now. Alice was a barely competent pilot, and Lily’s first aid skills were the weakest in the crew. And we’d all seen that Michaela needed the least first a
id out of all of us.

  “Okay, Boss, if you say so,” Alice still sounded dubious, and more than a little nervous. “I’ll get a course laid in — after all, as the old saying goes, bist du in gefahr?”

  My German had gone downhill a lot since my childhood, but I understood ‘are you in danger?’ just fine. Thank goodness Alice spoke so many languages… English and Chinese were common enough that most aliens who dealt with humans picked up a basic grasp of them, but I could hope that my mother’s language was too obscure.

  Syrcen pressed his blade against me in warning, impatient and suspicious. I swallowed, forcing a laugh. “Haha yeah, that’s right, Alice. No time for chat, let’s get to work.”

  With that I hung up, praying that I’d gotten my message across. The comm light flashed as the rest of the crew talked, but I couldn’t listen in without Syrcen hearing too.

  Come on, Michaela, come on. It had been too long already, and I worried that something had happened to her. Did she really need first aid? We’d all gotten too little oxygen, had she passed out?

  “We’re not moving,” Syrcen said, interrupting my thoughts. The tip of his blade pressed in under my ribs, hard enough to hurt through the spacesuit. “Why?”

  “I’ll… I’ll check,” I stammered, reaching for the comm switch and praying the others wouldn’t be saying something incriminating.

  “What’s the holdup?” I snapped as soon as I hit the button, silencing the hubbub of the crew’s voices. “Come on, ladies, let’s get away before one of the Drall gets aboard.”

  Pushing my luck, yeah, but it was a reasonable excuse for getting out of here fast and Syrcen didn’t gut me. I took that to mean I hadn’t pushed too far.