Her Alien Warrior

by Viki Storm

  While I’d guessed that she was from Mutza’s World, I wasn’t expecting this revelation.

  “In Virixian, we don’t have a word for coincidence,” I tell her again. “But we do have a word, sorkek, which means something like interconnected events. It’s the same word we’d use when describing a flowing river or a spinning wheel. Life’s events can’t be separated. Everything is connected together. One event flows into another. Every one decision has multiple results, not just one. And every one decision is itself a result of something else. A web. A wheel. A river.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says. “Can you explain it simply?”

  “No,” I say. “Life is not simple.”

  “No fooling,” she says.

  “You cannot reduce anything to one cause and one effect. Cat smuggled on board caused deaths. That’s not the whole picture. There’s a confluence of causes and effects.”

  “I would expect warriors to have a more hard-line view of the world,” she says.

  “We do, sometimes,” I admit. “But not when it comes to a child bringing her pet with her when she travels to a new home.”

  Vela seems to consider this, then nods. “Maybe you’re right. But even if you are, there’s one more connected event to consider. You said I’ll know love and sacrifice firsthand when we have children. But you don’t understand. I’m from Mutza’s World. I’m infected. If we have children, they’ll be infected too. It crosses the placental barrier. And… many of the infected babies born did not survive. I swore to myself I’d never have children.”

  “Vela, mark my words, my mate and offspring will always be safe. Always. I’ll do everything to protect you—even from viruses. And my offspring too. Trust me, I’ll find a way.”

  “I want to believe you,” she says.

  “Then believe me,” I say. “I’m not going to let anything harm you or our offspring. We’ll find the best healers. I know one—let’s just say he owes me a favor.”

  “I believe,” she says.

  “Good,” I say. “You should.”

  “I left Mutza’s World because I couldn’t stand to see all the people I’d unwittingly doomed. Anytime someone succumbed to the disease, I would be eaten alive with guilt. So I left. I exiled myself.”

  “But now the two of us,” I say, giving her a soft kiss. “We’ll never be in exile again, because we’ll always have each other.” Exile. It’s defined the last ten years of my life. I’ve dwelt on the injustice, the anger—but never about how damned lonely I’ve been.

  She grips me fiercely, snorting up a noseful of snot. “Your tears will come and go in the coming weeks, but they’ll stop and one day you’ll realize that you’re happy.”

  “I’m already happy,” she says. “It feels sort of weird.”

  “I know what you’re talking about,” I say. “I haven’t felt much of anything since…” I don’t want to tell her. I don’t need to tell her. But she deserves to know what I did. “Since I was exiled. Since I disobeyed the orders on my last official Virixian mission.”

  “What…” she says, hesitating. As someone with emotional wounds, she knows not to rip open the scabs. “What was the mission?”

  “The seven of us,” I say. “Me, Taxuu, Birik, Irjai, Plai, Yev, Glox. We were sent on separate missions, each of us chosen to assassinate a different target.” I clench my fists just thinking of it. All the mistakes we made.

  “Who were you supposed to assassinate?” she asks. “Did you guys have to foil an evil plot?”

  “They sent us to assassinate seven children,” I say, the words sour in my mouth. “One child of each of the seven major races in the galaxy. A human, a Virixian, a Qyath, a Skral, a Xan, a Grey and an U’mel.”

  She pauses for a long time. I know what she wants to know. But I’m not going to volunteer the information. She’ll have to ask me. “Did you?” she finally asks. “Did you do it?”

  “No,” I say. “None of us did.” All those memories, I thought they’d been successfully buried. What a joke. It’s like it was yesterday. “But we should have.”

  She says nothing because there’s nothing to say to that.

  “I owe you my story,” I say. “But not the entire story because it’s not mine to tell.”

  - - -

  We were called for a mission. We were told to take seven separate ships, fly to the given coordinates and wait instructions. This was not how our missions were usually conducted. We briefed together, planned together, argued about the plan, came up with a new plan, then argued some more, then set out. It was always together. We did everything together. Splitting us up, keeping us in the dark—it was a bad sign.

  But we are warriors and we’d been trained to do our duty.

  Only after we were in position did we receive the detailed orders from the High Chieftain. Assassination.

  You must understand, assassinations are distasteful for a Virixian warrior. To sneak around in the shadows, killing an unsuspecting foe—it’s cowardly. It’s a one-sided battle. There is no honor, no pride in victory.

  I researched my target, then to my horror discovered it was a small human child.

  This was the first time it ever occurred to me to question my orders. Everything about the mission was wrong from the start, culminating in the target. But I landed, found the child—I even took Fear Shard out of its sheath and leveled it straight at him.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  I could think of no valid reason to kill a child. We’re not terrorists. We don’t serve revenge on our enemies by punishing the innocents. And there’s no way a child could have done something that warranted a killing. Had there been some prophecy that this child would grow to become the destroyer of worlds? Preposterous.

  I returned to my ship to initiate a comm-link with the others. But the comm mechanism in our ships had been deactivated.

  Another suspicious happening. I told you, there’s no word for ‘coincidence’ in our language, so I knew everything was related.

  I wanted to talk to the others, find out if their targets were children or if it was just mine. To find out—Void help me—if they had already done the job.

  But I couldn’t contact them. I had to make the decision on my own—and that’s the one thing they don’t train us to do very well.

  I started my ship and returned to Virix.

  When I got there, the High Chieftain was waiting to arrest me for treason.

  The rest, well, a lot of interrogations and a tribunal. You know the outcome.

  But you see, the targets we were given, the ‘children’?

  They were not innocents. They were not children at all.

  They were shapeshifters from a dimension beyond this one. They’re known as the Seven Rent Souls.

  We had a chance to stop them, but we didn’t. The Federation and our own High Chieftain as well as the leaders of the other races, they had been gathering intel on the Seven for many years. The task was entrusted to us—and we blew it.

  The Seven vanished.

  There’s been no sign of activity from them—until now.

  - - -

  I run out of words. There’s so much that words are insufficient for.

  “I’m sorry,” Vela says.

  “I’ve had time to think about it, time to move on. And now, with you, I’m sure that I can. My future is what’s important. Even if this does mark the reappearance of the Seven Rent Souls, that’s still my future, not my past. I love you, Vela, you’re my mate, my partner. We’ll get through anything because we can get through it together.”

  “I love you too,” she says. “I can’t go back to my old life. Can’t go back to the isolation and the guilt. Literally, I can’t. Because our bond has strengthened me in ways I never thought possible.”

  “Me too,” I say. “Come here, I need to tell you something.” I take her into my arms and whisper into her ear.

  My name. My first name, my name before I was taken from my home and trained t
o be a warrior.

  “Thank you,” she says. “I’ll keep it safe in my heart.”

  “You have my name,” I say. “I belong to you now.”

  Chapter 20

  Vela

  “Just one more run,” I argue. “Then I’ll take some time off.”

  “Out of the question,” Auvok says. “I’ll go. Or I’ll send Glox or Plai. They’re sitting around idle; it will be good for them.” His chromatophores wink green, the color I’ve come to recognize when he’s worried—which has been a lot these last couple months.

  “Out of the question,” I counter. I put my hands on my hips. I’m serious about this. These last months, I’ve been doing runs for the Brotherhood, not always smuggling, but usually. They keep me plenty busy; one of the warriors always needs something taken somewhere with no questions asked. “A shipment to Mutza’s World? You bet your ass that I’m going to be the one to do it. I’m not helpless. Remember when I saved your ass? I pelted that motherfucker with rocks right when he was closing in on you.”

  “Vela,” Auvok says. He takes a step towards me, his fists balled at his sides. I straighten my spine and look him dead in the eye. “This is your ninth month of gestation. You can barely roll in and out of bed. You are not in the physical condition necessary for illegal cargo delivery.” He sits down on the bed we share and pulls me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and rests his hands on the swollen bulge of my belly. The baby wriggles and kicks in response.

  “Ouch,” I say involuntarily. This little bastard is strong. And will not sit still.

  “Someone wants out,” Auvok says. “He wants out so bad that he might decide to make his escape when he’s three light years away from his father. I can live with a lot of disappointment and heartache, but if I missed the birth of our firstborn?” He doesn’t finish. I sigh, knowing he’s right. The healers haven’t been able to give me a proper due date because they have no precedent for Virixian-human offspring. But it’s been nine months already and it feels like if I sneeze too hard, this baby’s gonna pop his head out and wave hello. I definitely do not want to go into labor in the cockpit of the Vulp II.

  “Then come with,” I say. Auvok looks at me, trying his best to look stern. But his eyes aren’t stern. They never are. He can’t fool me. I know when I’ve got him. “It will only be a day and a half. Two max.”

  “This is not fair,” he says. “I was never informed of your strange human customs.”

  “What custom?” I ask.

  “The one that’s called Never Argue With A Pregnant Woman.”

  “I’ll get the ship ready,” I say, twisting my head around so I can kiss him.

  “No you won’t,” he says. “I’ll get Glox to do it, he’s already there installing the new prow-ornament.”

  “I don’t need to be treated like an invalid,” I protest. “I don’t need someone to do every little thing for me.” I’m so used to being on my own, doing everything myself, that having a whole hangar full of warriors eager to help me out is very strange indeed.

  “The brothers like it,” Auvok insists. “A baby brings so much joy to those around it.”

  “What, like a symbol of hope for the future?” I ask. These big hulking barbaric warriors seem like the last people who would go all goo-goo-gaa-gaa over a baby.

  “Sure,” Auvok says. “There’s that. But mostly it’s when they smile. The sound of a sneaky little baby chuckle. How they grab everything and cram it into their mouths. Don’t humans like babies?”

  “We do,” I say, thinking of how the disease on Mutza’s World cast a pall on the new lives. I never thought I’d be having a baby of my own—let alone a half-alien baby. This whole thing is still very strange to me. “But I can’t remember the last time I even was around a baby. Or held one. I certainly never changed a diaper or anything like that.”

  “You will be a great mother,” Auvok says. He rubs my belly, then lewdly runs his hands up to caress my breasts.

  “Do not touch my nipples unless you’re going to finish what you start,” I warn him. But the bastard flicks his fingertips over my tight-fitting tunic, coaxing my nipples into tender peaks. Heat floods into my body, desire mounting to an uncomfortable ache. “My pregnancy hormones or something, I don’t know what it is, but I’m so easily aroused.”

  “It’s being in the presence of your mate,” he says. “A strong male who’s claimed your body in the most thorough way possible—by breeding your fertile womb.” But just as suddenly as he started, he stops. “I just wanted to have a little grope,” he says. “As your mate, I’m entitled to that, am I not?”

  “Not when it leaves me in agony,” I complain.

  “Get on the bed,” he says. The jocularity from his voice completely gone. “I’ve decided I want more.”

  I lie down and he pushes up my tunic dress all the way to my collarbone, baring my swollen belly and breasts. He thrusts a rude hand between my legs and it slides over my slick seam easily. “You got me so wet already,” I confess.

  “It doesn’t take much for a hot little female like you,” he says. “You’re always ready to take your mate’s cock, aren’t you?” His finger finds my clit and he begins to strum it with expert precision.

  “I’m going to come already,” I say. The orgasm builds instantly, ready to burst like a floodgate.

  “Not without my cock inside you, you’re not,” Auvok growls. He pushes his cock between my lips, seeking my entrance. He thrusts deep, giving me his entire length right at once. My body responds to his and we find a rhythm together, synchronized like the orbits of a binary star system.

  My pleasure intensifies until it becomes too much, bursting free like a caged beast. I cry out as my mate violates my opening and fills me with his long, curved cock. His fingers strum my clit, heightening my orgasm to a ferocity I can hardly withstand.

  He pushes deep inside me and finds his own release. He collapses to the side, lying on the bed next to me. The baby starts moving around again, and I can see elbows and heels rolling around under the stretched skin.

  “A feisty son of a bitch,” Auvok says, putting his hand over one of the bulging baby body parts.

  “He probably didn’t appreciate being jounced around like that,” I say.

  “That particular brand of jouncing is how he came into existence,” Auvok says. “Now get dressed, I’ll go with you to Mutza’s World. I want to see the look on your face when you deliver them the good news.”

  I pack a hasty overnight bag and put on a spacesuit. I look ridiculous with the thing stretched over my obscenely huge belly, but I don’t care. As we walk to the ship, I get nothing but smiles from the other warriors. Auvok’s right—they can’t wait for a baby to fill the hangar with laughter.

  And neither can I.

  But first, I need to go to Mutza’s World. Not my home—this is my home now. With Auvok. But where I came from.

  “Cargo’s loaded,” Glox says. “Five crates.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “How’s your xorbanium converter modification coming along?” Glox claimed to have invented a new process for fueling supra-light-speed travel.

  “I’m having a problem with one of the enzymes, but I’ll figure it out.”

  “I bet you will,” I say.

  “Let’s go!” Auvok cries. He’s already in the Vulp II. “Before the virus mutates.”

  Inside the five cargo crates is an actual cure for the disease.

  Auvok wasn’t joking when he said that he had a healer who owed him a favor. The healer took my blood and isolated the viral RNA. Then created a potent anti-viral that actually killed the virus, rather than just isolating it and inhibiting its replication like the medication everyone on Mutza’s World has been taking for the last twenty years. An actual real legit cure. Finally, everyone who lives there will be cured.

  I’m cured. And our baby, they tested him, too, and he was never even infected.

  Auvok was right—he protected us.

  As we fly away, I
look down on the hangar and feel a little pang that takes me a second to realize what it is. Homesickness.

  Because this is my home. What I’ve been searching for, I finally found it.

  “Ready?” Auvok asks.

  “Yes,” I say. He’s talking about the cargo delivery, but also so much more. Am I ready for my new life—my real life—to begin? Am I ready to cradle our child in my arms? Am I ready to put down real roots and stop wandering?

  “Yes,” I say again. He looks at me, his pupils narrowing to thin vertical slits. “I’m ready for everything.”

  “Good,” he says, eyeing me a little suspiciously.

  I just smile, mostly because I can’t help it.

  Who would have thought that a fiery crash would have been the start of the best thing in my life?

  My alien warrior was right there to save me.

  He always will be.

  And even though he doesn’t like to admit it, I’ll always be there to save him. You know, just in case some crazy cultist wants to take over the Universe again.

  I got a pile of rocks waiting.

  Epilogue

  Yav

  It’s dark, the way I like it. Even Taxuu has powered down his comm-panel and gone to sleep.

  I can finally think. I’ve extracted toxins from twenty different salamanders, but none of them has produced the results Auvok described from his ordeal with one of the Seven.

  I take out my scratch pad and try to balance the equation. There’s something wrong, an isotope or ion that I’m not factoring into my calculations. I can’t figure it out and it’s driving me crazy.

  Because what a weapon that would be, a tiny pin coated in a few miligrams of poison. One little poke in the arm and down the enemy goes, consumed by fear and wild hallucinations.

  Auvok cooperates with my questioning and helps me as much as he can, even though he doesn’t approve of my pursuits. Dishonorable, he thinks, poisons are a coward’s weapon. When we were chosen for warrior training, some of us were chosen for our cunning. I’ve always had a mind for chemistry. He’d be more comfortable if I bonked my enemies on the head with a big stick rather than use elixirs or inhalants.