The Complete Alien Apocalypse Series (Parts I-IV Plus Bonus Novella): An Apocalyptic, Romantic, Science Fiction, Alien Invasion Adventure

by JC Andrijeski

  Jet felt Trazen standing behind her, behind that row of reporters, but made herself not look at him. Some part of her wanted to look at him.

  For reassurance maybe.

  For some sign he thought she might not end up gutted on the floor of the Rings arena before the day ended.

  Swallowing, Jet shoved that out of her mind, too.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the night of Tyra’s party.

  Maybe because of the venom, she could remember every detail of their talk under that white-painted pavilion.

  Tyra and Anslom hadn’t said much, not once Richter got there.

  Trazen remained relatively quiet too, listening more than he participated, although he asked pointed questions on more than a few occasions, especially about the plans for today.

  Trazen never left Jet’s side for the entirety of that meeting.

  He never let go of her with his arm or his tail.

  He stung her a few more times, too, as the night wore on and the venom began to lose its edge. By the last one, she practically sat in Trazen’s lap, but even then, both of them kept the majority of their focus on Richter, sharing notes in the background as they tried to decide how much of what he said was likely to be true, and in what ways they should risk trusting him with their own lives, much less the fate of either species.

  That left Jet and Richter to do most of the actual talking.

  They talked for a long time.

  For the first time Jet could remember since she’d met him, Richter told her things.

  He told her a lot of things.

  Of course, Jet had no idea how many of those things were true. She knew Richter likely would have omitted a lot. He probably exaggerated other things he’d said, or obscured details. Some of what he told her might have been made up out of whole cloth.

  Trazen agreed with all of those assessments.

  Even so, Jet found herself believing that Richter had told her more truth than he’d ever told her before.

  Something in Richter seemed to exhale, the longer the five of them sat at that stone table. The longer he explained his plan to them, what he thought needed to happen next, the more his voice changed, the more his eyes held less of that smug gleam she always associated with him, the more that gleam transformed into seeming urgency and sincerity.

  It might all have been an act, of course.

  She knew Richter was smart.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Richter might even be a genius.

  But she found herself thinking it hadn’t all been an act.

  Truthfully, he came off as desperate. At the very least, he seemed like a man who knew that a noose hung over his head, a man gearing up for a last stand.

  He confessed to Jet that he hadn’t realized what ideologues Isreti and his supporters truly were before they took power. He’d thought all of that “return to the old way” stuff had been mostly rhetoric.

  Now, however, after witnessing Isreti’s plans via spies inside the Palace, Richter really thought Isreti and his followers believed that rhetoric.

  According to Richter, Isreti’s “Old Way” doctrine had become akin to a religious movement in some populations of Nirreth. Worse, Isreti and his followers were recruiting more and more Nirreth into the fold every day.

  Young Nirreth mostly succumbed to the ideology.

  Young, ambitious, frustrated Nirreth, who were more vulnerable to appeals to their egos and the promise of unlimited sex with human slaves. Those same Nirreth who would welcome the opportunity to do basically whatever they wanted with impunity when it came to the local race, and even to those Nirreth dubbed “race-traitors.”

  Richter said it was still mostly a fringe movement, that most Nirreth didn’t believe in that crap either, but that all that might change once Isreti was crowned king.

  Which meant they had to act now.

  Richter already heard rumblings of death squads going out to hunt the remaining human skags once Isreti was king. According to those rumors, the plan was to butcher the old, and others who made unattractive slaves. They’d either eat those, or use them as fertilizer.

  The rest would be rounded up and bred for slaves, food, or both.

  Richter said all of this was already planned.

  He said it would begin following the official coronation.

  According to Richter, that coronation would take place two days after her challenge match with Bukka.

  For the same reason, Richter saw that challenge match as their last chance to stop this. It was their last chance to do anything before the death squads began their work.

  Remembering that now, Jet gritted her teeth, holding the edge of Black to the white sharpening stone.

  Killing her was part of the ritual, Richter said.

  Having Bukka murder Jet was the first nail in the coffin of what remained of humanity, of the human fighting spirit… of the idea that humans had any spirit to lose.

  Remembering those words now, Jet nodded to herself.

  That part felt true.

  It all felt true, but the idea that they might be able to stop it––her, Trazen, Richter, Tyra, Anslom, Laksri, Anaze, a handful of others––it all just sounded far-fetched.

  Still, Chiyeko told her once, that history was full of moments like this. One person. One movement. The right time.

  Sometimes all it took was a single falling domino.

  She didn’t really want to be that domino, but if she had to be, she would.

  The flames on the edge of her sword flashed light blue, signaling the blade was fully sharp. Pulling Black off the stone, Jet examined the edge, again doing it more for the snapping photographers. A few seconds later, she sheathed it in one smooth move, smiling into the cameras while keeping that harder glint in her eyes.

  They loved it. They loved the seeming arrogance, the angry Samurai.

  They loved it.

  But Jet knew, even as they burst into applause, smacking their tails approvingly against walls and stomping their feet on the floor, that some of them would shout just as loudly as her blood got spilled… screaming for Bukka to end it, to rip out her throat.

  When it came down to it, she thought wryly, humans and Nirreth might not be so different after all.

  At the thought, she found herself looking for Trazen.

  He stood at the back, just like she’d known he would, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His face held the expression of an angry, arrogant scowl, the same expression she remembered on him more often than not, the first dozen or so times she’d met him.

  She saw it differently now, though.

  Even as she thought it, he blinked at her subtly, a Nirreth’s softer version of a smile.

  14

  You Must Choose

  What felt like bare seconds later, they’d entered the darkened corridor of the ramp leading to the arena. The floor of the cave-like passageway sloped upwards with a noticeable grade, aiming her towards a distant rectangle of light.

  She could hear the chanting already.

  As she and Trazen walked up the ramp, surrounded by bodyguards but otherwise alone, for the first time that day, Trazen had his tail coiled tightly around her, tighter than he usually did when they were in public.

  He held her body a little apart from his––she suspected so that she wouldn’t look weak or dependent to the guards, or to any media drones––but his grip on her waist was almost suffocating it was so tight, and she could feel his worry through his skin.

  She knew this plan made him nervous.

  He’d stung her the night before so they could discuss it again.

  They had discussed it too… for what felt like hours.

  Going round and round, like they had been since that night at the party, as if trying to reassure one another that they’d made the right decision in working with Richter, even though neither of them trusted him. Jet wondered if they both believed, or hoped maybe, if they just kept talking about it, they could predict the outcome of this day with
real certainty.

  After both of them were exhausted from that… Trazen left.

  Not just her room. He left the house.

  He’d left his own house and slept elsewhere, like he had been all week.

  She couldn’t afford to focus on Trazen right now, though.

  She definitely couldn’t afford to be thinking about where he spent the night, or with whom. It was difficult with him so close, though.

  It was even harder since he’d stung her so recently.

  She found herself remembering the night after the party, after their talk with Richter had finished. After all that, after everything he’d said and all the times he stung her, Trazen sent her back to his house alone. He put her in one of those trolleys without him and voiced instructions to the steering device of the vehicle to take her back.

  She didn’t have to ask where he’d spent the night on that occasion; she suspected she already knew. He’d told Chloe he would find her.

  “I didn’t have sex with her,” he said, his voice a low grumble.

  Jet looked up, startled.

  Feeling herself flush, she looked away before he could meet her gaze.

  She wondered why he hadn’t just used the venom to talk to her directly, then realized with the sense-suit, he wasn’t actually touching her skin-to-skin. He could feel things off her, but without bare skin, it wasn’t enough for them to communicate actual words.

  Even as she thought it, he reached out with one hand, clasping her bare neck with his jointed fingers.

  I didn’t sleep with her, Jet.

  Why are you telling me this, Trazen?

  I didn’t sleep with her, he repeated. I just had to get away from you.

  Jet felt her jaw harden. Trazen, this is hardly the time––

  It’s exactly the time, he cut in, his thoughts irritated, bordering on angry. I may not get another time, Jet. Or had you forgotten?

  For a second, silence filled his mind.

  Swallowing, she didn’t try to break it.

  Even so, she wanted to ask. She wanted to know what his deal was with her, even though she knew it was the last thing she should be thinking about right now.

  He sighed, clasping her neck tighter, massaging her with his fingers.

  If we make it through this alive, you need to choose, he thought at her softly.

  Choose what?

  He let out an aggravated growl, tightening his tail enough to make her gasp.

  Choose what? If you want me, you need to tell me, Jet. You need to tell me clearly. You need to choose between me and Lakrsi. You need to choose…

  She felt confusion filter over her mind, along with a denser anger. You honestly think I’d be with Laksri now, given what he did to me?

  I think you have feelings for him still, Trazen growled back inside her mind. I think you are confused. I think you don’t understand the venom still. I think you need to choose between me and him. Or maybe between me, him, and Richter’s son, Anaze… since I suspect your feelings for him are more complex than you would like to admit, as well.

  Jet felt her anger explode into something closer to fury.

  Trazen didn’t wait for any part of that anger to become articulate.

  I’m telling you that I want you, Jet, he cut in. I am being very clear, which is what you said you wanted from me. I want you. And if I’d gone home with you that night after the party, I would have stung you again if you let me. I would have kept stinging you… and I would have had sex with you if you let me, too. But I don’t want us to do that until I believe you when you tell me that things are finished with those other two.

  He looked at her directly, the gold flecks standing out sharply in his eyes.

  Right now, I don’t believe you, he thought at her bluntly. I want to, but I don’t. Maybe if you weren’t so good at hiding things from me, I would believe you. But right now, I cannot. I cannot see the truth of it. I’ve tried. I’ve really tried, Jet. But you have not told me anything I can make sense of in regard to us. Nothing, Jet.

  Her jaw clenched painfully, but she didn’t look at him.

  She could feel what he was pointing to in her mind, what felt like an ambiguity in her feelings, and it infuriated her. It infuriated her more when she realized he was picking up on sexual desire there too, and longing, and fear. Every word he thought at her sparked a near terror at her own vulnerability.

  And yes, confusion.

  It embarrassed her. It also made her feel violated.

  What right do you have–– she began angrily.

  None, he thought at her, cutting her off with a warning glare. I have no right whatsoever, Jet. That is precisely my point. That is why I have not acted on any of this.

  That time, his thoughts felt openly frustrated.

  Jet could feel more complex things on him too, more intense emotions, things that lay just under the surface of his thoughts.

  Jet, Trazen’s mind grew more subdued. I understand your confusion. And I went along with this charade of owning you out of necessity… but I won’t after this. I can’t. It’s not only for me. It’s for you, too. I won’t sting you after this, not unless you make up your mind and choose to be with me. I won’t be responsible for confusing you further. I will be honest, I do not like how Laksri did not teach you more about the venom. I will not do like he did, and pretend I cannot help there being a power imbalance between us, when I know it does not have to be this way. Nor should it be this way.

  His thoughts grew sharper.

  Sharp as glass, clear enough to make her flinch.

  For the same reason, I am telling you now… do not ask me to sting you again unless you want me. If you convince me you really want me, and I sting you, I intend to take you to bed, Jet. Repeatedly.

  She flinched, but didn’t look up and he exhaled in a low growl.

  Is that transparent enough for you? he thought at her with another growl. I want you. I’m willing to fight Laksri for you, if necessary… so I need you to think about what you want. Before you ask me to sting you again. Before I end up in some kind of confrontation with the First Son or Richter or whoever else. His thoughts turned into a lower grumble. Of course, that’s assuming we don’t both die here today. Then all of this is a moot point.

  Jet felt her skin flush as she turned over his words.

  Even so, she found herself thinking about them that time.

  She also found herself thinking about what he’d said about Laksri.

  Glancing up at Trazen’s face in that pause, in curiosity as much as frustration, she fought with other things as well.

  She wanted him too. He had to know that.

  Looking at him now, she realized she’d known she wanted him since that first kiss in Laksri’s recovery room.

  She’d just blamed it on his venom and her own weakness as a human.

  Desire bled through his fingers as she continued to look at his face, strong enough to catch her breath. After he’d looked away, she frowned, at a complete loss.

  Trazen––

  He shook his head, once.

  No, he thought. Enough, Jet. I’ve said enough. Make up your mind. Tell me what you want later. When both of us know you really mean it.

  Exhaling, she only nodded.

  He was right.

  He’d embarrassed her, even angered her, but when she stepped back from the question even marginally, his request made sense. Of course he’d picked up that she was confused about him. Of course he’d picked up that some of that confusion was sexual, especially given how much venom they’d shared.

  And yes, of course he’d have some inkling that she was confused about Laksri, given how things were between them before he got shot on Astet.

  She’d never heard the full story about what had happened to Laksri either, which didn’t help. She knew her unwillingness to hear that story came partly from her confusion around the venom in general, and the fact that she still didn’t trust her own feelings when it came to any Nirreth who stung her.<
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  But Trazen and Tyra’s words on that kept coming back to her, too.

  The venom goes two ways… not only one.

  It goes two ways, Jet.

  She tried to push that from her mind too, but mostly failed. The truth was, she hadn’t let herself think about Laksri much. She hadn’t let herself think about Anaze much either, not since she’d been imprisoned on Astet.

  At first it was because she’d thought both of them were dead.

  Lately, she’d had a few more pressing things on her mind. Like not dying herself. Like not letting her brother and her mother get murdered by Richter. Like Isreti staging her public execution. And yes, like Trazen.

  Trazen, who’d confused her since he’d first stung her while Laksri lay unconscious.

  Nodding more to herself that time, she exhaled. Okay.

  Okay? he thought at her.

  Glancing up at his face, she studied his eyes. Why did you sting me that first time? What was that about, if you work for the Shinkara?

  Don’t think about that here, Jet, he thought at her at once.

  Okay, but what about the rest of it? Why did you do it? Can you tell me that?

  Trazen let out another low growl, but she could feel him trying to answer her question.

  I didn’t know where you stood, he thought at her. I didn’t know if you were Richter’s pawn, or if I might be able to talk to you apart from him… and apart from Laksri. I needed an in with your group. You were the biggest unknown. And you were the easiest, frankly.

  Jet let out a snort, her eyes on the rectangle of light at the end of the ramp.

  That rectangle was a lot bigger now.

  The weak link, she muttered in her mind.

  No, he thought back at her, his mind warning. No. Not weak. But less known. More of a wild card. He hesitated.

  For an instant, Jet swore she felt embarrassment on him.

  I wanted to sting you, he thought at her, softer. I hadn’t actually intended to kiss you… or let you feel as much of me as you did. Some of that was a mistake…