Jax-Xon

by Alana Khan

  Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series

  Book 6.5 (Novelette)

  Jax-Xon

  Twenty Years Ago

  In Space on an Unknown Alien Vessel

  Chapter One

  Tara

  I’ve barely let my four-year-old out of my arms since ugly aliens abducted us from our bed on Earth three days ago. We’re imprisoned on a spaceship in a tiny cell, maybe six feet square. It’s big enough for a twin-sized cot, a toilet, and a sink. Surrounded on three sides by glowing, red laser bars that can cut you into pieces, there’s a solid wall behind the cot.

  I’ve been terrified not only for what will happen to us, but I’m worried the lasers will slice through Aliyah if she forgets for one second the bars can kill her.

  Six other cells flank me in either direction. They’re all inhabited by Earth females. I assume the aliens who stole Alliyah and me out of the bed we share didn’t expect a twofer when they abducted us.

  It’s lucky we're alive and still together, but I’m terrified we’ll be separated—or worse—when we arrive at our destination.

  Our jailers mostly leave us alone, preferring to watch us through cameras. They only enter our cell block to feed or threaten us. Thank goodness they haven’t hurt any of us since our arrival.

  Anxious silence presides over the cell block night and day. The porcine, tusky aliens who imprisoned us and equipped us with subdural translators made it clear they’d punish us for talking.

  A loud explosion pierces the quiet. The spaceship pitches at an odd angle, then rights itself. The lighting abruptly switches from normal to eerie, blinking red lights as klaxons blare.

  Aliyah wakes in my arms, terrified and crying soundlessly. She took the aliens’ threats seriously when they told her to be quiet. Her little fingers squeeze into my upper arms and she clutches me tightly, her wide, terrified eyes proclaiming her panic.

  Pressed onto our bed by gravitational force, I lean back against the one solid wall in the cell. Using all my strength, Aliyah still in my arms, I crawl under the bed.

  I urge Aliyah, “Hold on to the bed leg with all your might. Don’t slide into the bars.” Thank God the legs are bolted to the floor.

  “Like Mommy,” I urge, tucking one arm around a bed leg and gripping my elbow with the other hand.

  Both of us are wrapped around the metal bed legs as tightly as possible. The gravitational force becomes so intense the skin on my cheeks presses against my bones. I can’t hold Aliyah and keep either of us safe, so I pray she can clutch firmly and stay far from the deadly laser bars.

  Through the other women’s piercing screams, I hear the unmistakable zap of at least one of them being sliced to pieces as they slide through the bars. My stomach clenches in terror and repulsion.

  The G-force accelerates then slows as the vessel jerks and shudders.

  “Momma loves you, sweetie. Momma loves you more than life. Whatever happens, remember that.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands up when I hear the eerie groan of bending, grinding metal. The G-force is impacting the vessel as harshly as it’s affecting my body.

  Wrapping my thighs around my daughter’s waist, I keep her from sliding into the deadly bars as the pressure becomes too much to bear.

  Then we crash. There’s a bone-shuddering impact, a long skid, and then a rumbling explosion. Whatever powered the laser bars flickered out, so I grab Ally and run.

  The acrid smell of chemical fire assails my nose. It’s dim in here with only red emergency lights pointing toward the exit. Toxic smoke billows through the tight hallways.

  I press Ally’s head to my chest as I avert my eyes from the carnage I’m stepping over. There are dead bodies scattered wherever I turn—both human and alien.

  “Don’t look, sweetie.”

  Putting one foot in front of the other, I don’t know where I’m going. Locked in the bowels of this vessel since I woke up here three days ago, I have no concept of how big this ship is. I certainly don’t know the floor plan. I just keep running.

  Light streams in from my right. It doesn’t seem artificial, is it actual daylight? My mind flashes me a few scenarios of horrors that might await us if I’m lucky enough to escape this ship. From hungry animals to bloodthirsty savages to poisonous air that liquefies skin.

  But from the sound of things—the creaking metal, the raging fires—this ship will explode in minutes. Staying inside is not an option.

  Clutching Ally tighter, I run toward the light. Arriving at a torn edge of the ship, I see it’s lying on its side on the ground. The unnatural hole in the vessel’s skin is jagged and faces up to the blue sky of a planet. We’re fifty feet above scorched soil.

  “You have no choice, Tara,” I whisper, “we’ve got to leave.” I sit on the edge of the opening and notice the vessel curves out and around toward the ground. Hesitating for a moment, a shuddering explosion erupts from the belly of the ship.

  Knowing I don’t have one more second to waste, I hold Ally close and propel myself over the edge. We slide along the rounded metal exterior of the vessel until the curvature arcs back under itself. This thrusts us out and away from the ship and we free fall the rest of the way.

  I hit the ground and roll into a ball, trying to absorb the impact and protect Ally. As soon as I come to a stop, I stand. I hurt everywhere, but I’m not so badly damaged I can’t run, so I dash away from the ship, my daughter still in my arms.

  Thick, black smoke billows out of every crack and ragged edge in the hull. If the ship explodes now, a fireball or flying debris will kill us. There’s a bloody gash in Ally’s leg, but I’ll have to deal with that later. I run through tall, green grass in a straight line away from the ship.

  A gust of heat blasts me before I hear the explosion itself. The scorching ball of energy pushes me to my knees, so I cover Ally with my body and ride out the wave of blistering air.

  My back feels like I just suntanned for forty hours straight, but when I look over my shoulder, my clothes are intact. Luckily it was a surge of heat, not fire—we survived.

  Standing, Ally and I look back at the sight of the huge, silver vessel in a million pieces on the ground, shimmering in raging flames.

  “Can you walk?” I ask. She nods.

  We have to keep moving. I don’t know what lies ahead, just that if any of those tusky assholes made it through that crash, the first thing they’ll do is capture us again. Without the ubiquitous cameras that seemed to keep them in line, who knows what they’ll do to Ally and me?

  “Halt!” It’s one of them. I stop, assuming he’s armed.

  When I turn, I see two of them, both pointing weapons in our direction. I put my hands up; we have no defense against their guns. Ally’s arms surround my thigh, as if clutching onto me will save her.

  “Come!”

  While I try to disentangle Ally’s hands from my leg, I notice movement far off to my right. Tusk guys notice it, too. Their attention shifts from us and focuses on the group of beings running toward us.

  Although I don’t know what’s happening, I keep my hands raised in surrender. Glancing down, I look long enough to see my daughter’s little face plastered to my body as if the act of not seeing makes her invisible.

  Tusk guys use the tactic of shooting first and asking questions later. Their laser rifles discharge for only a few seconds before they halt and collapse to the ground. Were they just shot by arrows?

  I see green aliens running toward Ally and me. Are my eyes deceiving me? How tall are they? I don’t even try to run. If these guys just killed two aliens armed with long-distance laser-powered rifles, my daughter and I have no chance of escape.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I focus my thoughts. I have one goal—protect my daughter.

  “Put
your hands up like momma,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice calm, but failing miserably. “Do whatever they say, baby. Just like we did on the ship.”

  There are twelve of them. And the closer they get, the taller they look. They’re humanoid with green skin and spotted magenta markings. They draw their bows, arrows nocked, but Ally and I are still alive.

  As they approach, one guy takes the lead and lopes straight toward us. He drops his weapon, lifts Ally up and rushes toward a stand of trees to our right.

  “NO! You can’t take my baby!” I scream, but he’s off at a run, Ally clutched to his chest. I hurry after the kidnapper, hoping his pals don’t kill me for this. He snatches several huge, emerald leaves off a plant as he hurries to the bank of a lazy creek.

  Setting Ally down with great care, he calmly talks in a language my translator doesn’t recognize, as he dips the leaf in the water, saturating it. Then he tears the leaf to the proper proportions and gently wraps Ally’s leg from ankle to knee with one large swatch of leaf. He smoothes it over her injured leg, inspects his handiwork, then looks at me and smiles, nodding his head.

  These people are primitive. This guy’s wearing a couple leaves the same color as the one on Ally’s leg he’s fashioned into a loincloth. They’re armed with bows and arrows. Their shoes are made from hides.

  But it seems they mean us no harm. Even though all he did was wrap a leaf around her calf to stop the bleeding, he tried to help. That’s got to count for something, right?

  Most of his friends are searching through the rubble, maybe looking for survivors? What if the vessel explodes again? They could all be killed. With all the toxic black smoke billowing out of the ruins, and that final huge explosion, as much as I don’t want to admit it, no one else will escape that disaster alive.

  “Um.” I touch his thickly muscled bicep with one finger. When I have his attention, I mimic an explosion with my hands, making crashing noises, then point at his comrades, shaking my head with a worried look.

  He nods his head in understanding, then calls to them. They jog over to us just as another blast from deep in what remains of the vessel cracks apart the remains of the hull and spews shrapnel in every direction.

  I realize my ticket off this planet just expired. No one is coming to get me. I’m a million miles from home and never going back. The good news is the air is breathable and the big, green guys have been harmless so far.

  Jax-Xon

  I scoop up the smaller of the two children and place her on my shoulders. We’ll take them back to the village and find a home for them. I lodge the little one’s hands in my hair so she can hang on, then grab the other’s hand to make sure she doesn’t stumble.

  In all the stories of my people, there’s never been an event like this before: a crash, a fireball, two animal males with firesticks, and the gift of two children to the tribe. We’ve vanquished a threat and brought new life to the village. The Gods are certainly smiling upon us.

  We have a day’s quick-march home. I sing a song of my people to keep us moving at a steady pace. The little one on my shoulders hums along with me. I slow my words and soon she’s singing with me. She’s fearless—and smart.

  I glance at the older one. Her brow is furrowed in worry and she keeps eyeing the little one as if the babe might fall. I lean over to show her the youngling is fine. Are those breasts on her small frame? She has the stature of one who’s only seen eight winters.

  Her features aren’t rounded and soft like a child’s and there are two soft mounds of flesh on her chest. This small thing must be an adult female of her tribe.

  When we pause for water at a stream and a quick bite of jerked meat, the elder tends to the younger as if it is her babe. Could this be? I have no language to ask, the best I can do is bring them back to the village before full dark.

  When we’re close to home, a thought takes hold in my mind. I can’t shake the desire to keep these two in my hut tonight. The decision is up to my father, the chief, but he yields to my wishes lately. If I suggest it, he’ll agree.

  I should take them to one of my aunt’s huts, but I stubbornly decide I’ll care for them myself.

  Chapter Two

  Tara

  I’m tired, my back is on fire, and I’ve run-walked what feels like a hundred miles since I survived a spaceship crash. But what’s upsetting me the most right now is we were escorted to the jolly green giant’s house in this primitive village.

  He doesn’t have a wife, at least I don’t see any sign of one. What I do see is that Ally and I are in this mud hut alone with a big, strong man who’s been eyeing me funny all day.

  There are two raised sleeping platforms covered in thick gray-and-black pelts. One bed is the size of a single, one the size of a double. He motions us to the larger bed and my heart slams in my chest. Is this monster going to abuse us both?

  Attempting to calm myself, I notice he’s busy cooking. I’ve never watched an episode of Criminal Minds where the sadistic psychopath cooked for his victims before he skinned, tortured, or raped them. Then I remember Silence of the Lambs and my heart gallops in fear again.

  He sings while he makes the fire and boils water in a rawhide bag hung above the flames. Aliyah chimes in with him. She knows the words to his songs already? How’d that happen?

  He shot and skinned two little rabbit-looking things. Now he’s skewered them on a stick and placed them over the flames like a rotisserie. My stomach’s rumbling; I hope it’s edible.

  A hundred structures made of wood and covered with hardened mud and bark comprise this village. Every member of the tribe lined the walkways, gawking at our approach. Their eyes were wide in disbelief as they chanted and sang upon our arrival. None of them looked angry or intent on harming us.

  They were certainly welcoming, although they were amazed to see us. Well, the feeling was mutual, thank you very much. A village of spotted, green giants is an amazing sight to behold—and scary enough to curdle my blood.

  But I try to act nonchalant. I have no control over whether or not this guy will kill us tonight. What I do have control over is if Aliyah is calm or scared to death before it happens. I’d prefer she believes this is all a great adventure and not be in fear for her life.

  “Jax-Xon’s a nice man, isn’t he Momma?” she says as she swings her legs from the edge of the three-foot-high sleeping platform. Where was I when she learned his name and his songs and decided this mountain of a man was nice?

  “Absolutely,” I reassure her even though I’m trembling inside.

  “Momma?” he asks, leaving the partially-spitted rabbit-things lying on a clean rock. “Momma?” he asks again, his eyebrow cocked as he motions between Ally and me.

  I nod, eyes wide, wondering what new level of hell this might bring. But he grins and nods and sets the spit between two vertical notched branches on either side of the fire.

  Sitting on the sleeping platform across from us, he watches us with a half-smile as if we’re the most fascinating things on the planet.

  Jax-Xon

  It’s hard to believe I’m looking at a tiny adult female, a mother no less. But now that I pay better attention, I see those are definitely breasts at her chest. There are subtle aspects of her face, like brackets at the edge of her mouth, that show she’s not a child.

  Having spent the day with her, now I can see beyond our differences and appreciate her beauty. The contrast of her pink lips with her light skin draws my eye to her full mouth. Her black hair and deep, blue eyes are an attractive combination. Her rounded chin, so unlike the People’s square ones, accentuates her femininity.

  Here’s the family I was denied two winters ago when Kam-La died. She and I followed all the rules of courtship. I gave her presents of small game and carved an ornate bowl for her family’s table. We walked together to the spring to fetch water. She invited me to her family’s hut to eat.

  Our friendship blossomed and I planned to ask her to be my mate. I prepared to compete in a rockshun to im
press her father. Then one day a brantin beast attacked six females bathing in the stream. The beast grabbed my Kam-La, pulled her into the bushes, and devoured her.

  Not only did she perish, but my dreams of a mate and a family died that day. Chernan, the shaman, declared I am bad luck. Even though I’m the chief’s son, none of the females will allow me to court them.

  It took me many turns of the moon to forgive the Gods, but they have an interesting way of playing with people’s lives. Two winters ago they stole my Kam-La. Today right in front of my eyes they produce this pretty little female and her daughter as if a gift from heaven itself.

  Little Aliyah and I have already developed a bond. Although I must seem huge to her, she doesn’t shy from me and gives me genuine smiles. Her momma, though, looks like she’d kill me if she could. I must remember to carry my weapons next door to my father’s house before I sleep tonight.