Rescued by the Alien Pirate: Mates of the Kilgari

by Kyle, Celia

  Rescued by the Alien Pirate

  Mates of the Kilgari

  Celia Kyle

  Athena Storm

  Contents

  The Athenaverse Star Chart

  Blurb

  The Story So Far…

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  About the Authors

  Also by Athena Storm

  The Athenaverse Star Chart

  Blurb

  I woke from cryostasis a prisoner. My crime? I have no idea.

  I was stuck with a hundred other women, all headed to who knows where. Captive in a dank, dirty cargo hold.

  Then, out of the darkness, came Solair.

  A handsome alien. Golden skinned. Horned. The dashing captain of a pirate ship. They rescued us--he gave my people food, shelter, and promised us safety. In exchange?

  He took me for himself.

  But the people who captured us, haven’t given up. They want us back. They’re powerful and will do whatever it takes to find us. The only thing stopping them?

  Solair.

  He wants me. And what he takes…

  He keeps.

  The Story So Far…

  The year is 2338. Humanity has weathered it’s infancy and has navigated to the stars. They’ve colonized other worlds and become a space faring civilization and formed the Interstellar Human Confederation.

  Along the way, they’ve come to discover that the galaxy is actually a pretty crowded place. There are several political entities in the galaxy.

  The Trident Alliance is composed of the Vakutan, the Pi’rell, and the Alzhon.

  The Ataxian Coalition is composed of the Odex, Kreetu, Grolgath, and Shorcu.

  The Coalition and the Alliance has been fighting a war for about 350 years. At its heart, it’s an existential conflict that determines whether the known galaxy will be guided by the teachings of the Ataxian religion or by the capitalistic and technocratic tendencies of the Trident Alliance.

  Details are unclear how the war between the Alliance and Coalition started, but atrocities in the name of protecting the innocent have been committed by both sides.

  Several races, trying to remain neutral and unaffiliated with either side have formed a loose political union known as the League of Non-Aligned Races. Each race maintains their sovereignty. Member states meet infrequently to discuss trade and security matters, but no true leadership exists.

  Many races over the centuries have settled and created a political entity known as the Helios Combine, situated between Coalition and Alliance space and next to the Badlands - a region of space with many stellar phenomena. The Combine is known for it’s slave based economy, its capitalist based caste system, and a rigid social class system.

  Humanity had for a long time maintained their neutrality, but after multiple encounters, sided with the Alliance in their war against the Coalition.

  War has been unkind to the humans.

  The IHC colony of Luvon, with over 2 billion people on it, fell to the ruthless race known as the Kraaj. The Kraaj had been loosely aligned with the League of Non Aligned Nations but they saw the encroaching Coalition presence on their border as too dangerous.

  They took the human colony to serve as a forward base of operations. In the process they brought much pain and misery upon the humans they had become the overlords of.

  The Coalition has opened its offensive on Luvon now, and countless people are in the cross hairs.

  The Alliance and Coalition have fought battles over the human planet of Armstrong. Once thriving, it is now a wasteland. A small group of survivors from both sides attempts to carve out a path of peace in the galaxy.

  The war has been brutal. It has altered the trajectory of billions of sapient beings. One such race is what is known today as the Reapers. They’re world, known as Oshara, was destroyed when they were forced to take sides in the Alliance-Coalition War. With their planet destroyed, they wandered for many years, looking for a home or refuge. Yet no power would allow them into their borders. Starving and at death’s door, they pleaded to be allowed to settle and serve within the worlds of the Helios Combine. They were rebuffed by the arrogant and feudal Combine leadership. They eventually settled in a region of space known as the Badlands, surviving for generations as space pirates. With the war distracting attentions elsewhere, the Reapers are coming to realize that revenge against the Helios Combine is within reach.

  Humans now navigate a galaxy that only offers fear, death, and destruction.

  In a galaxy that’s ripped apart by war, the only light is that one day, a measure of hope will be given to the hopeless.

  That day has yet to come…

  Chapter One

  Varia

  The lights keep flickering on and off. I’m trying to hold it together and not let the darkness get to me, but I’ve never been comfortable in pitch black. Real darkness is like an abyss. If someone stares into it for too long, they’ll go crazy, and I need all my wits about me to figure a way out of this mess.

  “We’ve been stuck in this hold for seven days now,” Lamira murmurs to me.

  “If we even know what a day is,” I reply, unable to suppress the bitterness in my voice or the twist to my lips. “They took my comms and timekeeping devices before shoving me into cryosleep.”

  Whoever “they” were, neither of us know.

  For days now, I’ve been stuck in the hold of what appears to be a transport ship. I jerked awake to find myself in the dark, lying in an open cryopod. There’s barely any food or water and no one around to explain what the hell I’m doing here. I’m starving, dehydrated, and pissed because I hate not knowing the full details of a situation, especially one that involves me.

  And now the fucking lights keep flickering in and out.

  “At least we’re not alone,” I sigh.

  “No.” Lamira grins. “We’re surrounded by one hundred and seven women, nearly half of which are still in cryosleep and haven’t woken yet. With very little food and water and one working toilet with no privacy.”

  She’s right. We’re stuck here and no one has any clue why we’re here. Some woke after me, with questions I can’t answer. I don’t know whether to envy them or pity them because our situation is just that fucked up.

  The last thing I remember before waking inside one of those pods is being arrested by Interstellar Human Confederation Security on planet Erebus while on my way to the store.

  They didn’t read me my rights. They didn’t charge me with any crime.

  I’m a human being, and a citizen of the Interstellar Human Confederation. I know no matter what I may have done I should have at least been told what crimes I was accused of.

  They just grabbe
d me, threw me into a hovercar and hit me in the back of the head.

  The next thing I remember is waking in a cryopod.

  It took me a while to figure out my surroundings once I had the strength to get up. I’d stumbled around and found some food tucked in the corner, but it wasn’t until I called out that other women woke.

  That was several days ago.

  All we’ve had a chance to do is… nothing.

  We can’t get out of this hold and that’s left a lot of time to think.

  I’m definitely not what one would call innocent, having dabbled in a bit of black-market trading, but I’ve never done anything serious enough to warrant detention and shipment off-world. That kind of treatment is usually reserved for the real assholes—murderers, marauders, and madmen.

  Last time I checked, I’m none of those things, so how in the hell I ended up here is a mystery.

  I don’t even recall making it to interrogation. I was just being grabbed by some IHC Security goons and then nothing. Blackness. The abyss.

  Remember what I said about real darkness?

  I’m trying hard to hold it together for the others. My resolve is unravelling quicker as time passes, but I’ll be damned before I let anyone else know. As far as I can tell, those of us who are awake have been conscious for roughly seven days. But that’s just a guess. The room is windowless and there are no tech devices for us to call up any type of calendar or ship’s log. There’s barely even any sound, save for the buzzing of the damn lights, random conversations, and occasional whimpers emanating from some of the women.

  It’s no surprise that they’re starting to fall apart. While I’d been the first to waken, others soon followed, and then utter pandemonium ensued. Some of the women sobbed, some yelled, and worse, some did nothing at all, almost catatonic with shock. Using my most authoritative, take-no-bullshit voice I was able to calm everyone down long enough to discover I’m the only one aboard with any sort of military training. Because of that, I’ve become the de facto leader of our ragtag group.

  Not that I mind. I’m good at giving orders. Sometimes I’m not the best at taking them, but I left the military honorably, so I don’t feel too badly about that.

  The good news is I’ve got a great team. Whoever locked us up in here clearly didn’t think through all the ways their plan could go sideways. My core group of girls each have a very specific skillset that will benefit us in the long run if we ever get out of here. I know I sure as shit wouldn’t have put a former military sergeant, a tech geek, a mechanic, and a biologist together on the same transport.

  Honestly, they’re damn lucky this rig is locked up tighter than a space navy knot and we haven’t yet figured a way out because once we do, there’s no place in the galaxy they’ll be able to hide where we won’t find them. I’ll make damn sure of that.

  Water was more difficult to locate, but thanks to a resident genius and tech wizard from Novaria who introduced herself as Fiona, we have a small supply. Somehow, she rigged the pipeline to the stasis pods, allowing it to divert a small amount of water suitable for drinking. I have no idea how she did it because my brain doesn’t work that way. It really doesn’t matter how she accomplished the miracle—just that she did. She’s proven herself to be a definite asset.

  After we’d accumulated our stash of sustenance, I had Ilya, who’d informed me she was a professionally trained gearhead from Glimner, recon the entire hold. She’d spent hours crawling around on her hands and knees looking for a way out of this place. Despite all efforts, she’d come up short. Whoever put us here sure didn’t want us leaving anytime soon.

  The rest of my squad is composed of Thrase, who’s lived on Mars and was a biologist. She’s been monitoring the vitals of each of us, awake or asleep. There’s Marion, a cook from Luvon who worked on Erebus before she too was taken and has shown she’s quite capable of slapping together a meal of things you’d never think of mixing from the pile of food I located when I first woke. Then there’s Lamira, originally from Titanus Vox, lately of Erabus with me and my best friend in the galaxy. She was with me when I’d been picked up and I’m afraid it’s my fault she’s here.

  What I’m most confused about is how she ended up here with me. Even if I’d been arrested due to my transactions on the black market, Lamira is the cleanest whistle I know. There’s no reason at all for her to be here.

  She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I’d been dealing. Keeping it a secret from her now will take some finesse. My primary concern is keeping her safe and getting her out of here alive because if she’s in this mess due to me, I’ll never forgive myself.

  My breath stalls in my throat when the lights go out again. Silently, I count the seconds as they pass, dread filling my guts as they turn to minutes. We’re in the dark for a full ten before they return in a blinding flash, accompanied by a series of echoing gasps and sighs of relief.

  “Varia, a word?” Ilya keeps her voice low, not speaking until our heartbeats have returned to normal.

  I nod and follow her away from the main group. Her lips are set in a grim line.

  “Now clearly I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s going on—” she starts, but I cut her off.

  “Shoot straight, girl. If you know anything, you know we don’t have time for bullshit,” I tell her.

  My voice is stiff but I’m smiling. In the days we’ve spent together my core group have quickly become close, knowing we’ve got to trust each other fully if we want to get out of here alive. I may be direct, but I genuinely care about these women and I think they know that.

  Ilya returns my grin although hers is smaller and doesn’t reach her eyes. “The lights going out intermittently signifies the issue with the ship is electrical in nature. Once they’re out for good we’ll lose whatever life support we have quickly,” she gets the last out in a rush.

  I stare into her baby blues, looking for fear but finding only rage.

  “How long?” How long will we live once that happens?

  “Group this size? Hours. A day at most.”

  Fuck.

  “Thanks, Ilya. Keep this between us,” I instruct, and she agrees with a nod. No sense in causing a massive panic.

  I did not survive the firefight on Horus IV to go down like this. I will not die like a rabbit in a trap, snared because I didn’t keep up my guard. There’s got to be a way out of here. We just have to find it.

  Returning to the group, I ask Fiona to revisit the locking panels on all of the doors to see if she can bring them back to life. Just as she rises to do so, the lights go out again.

  The amount of time we spend in utter darkness is longer this time. The cries of the women are louder, echoing throughout the high-ceilinged room. I wrap my arms around my chest and will myself not to fall apart. I keep my eyes closed as if to trick my brain into believing I’m not trapped inside a hulking metal coffin, quickly on its way to becoming a mass grave.

  Watching everyone else start to give up is affecting me more than I thought it would. It’s been days with no sign of anyone knowing we’re here. The cavalry isn’t coming. We’re all going to die here. Mother save us, ‘cause somebody has to.

  When the lights come back on again this time, they’re accompanied by the sound of a distant but resounding crash that shakes the entire ship. I reach out for Lamira, grabbing her hand in mine and pulling her close. Once the dust settles the silence returns, but only for a few minutes. The next sound we hear is closer—a rumbling, screeching noise that sets my teeth on edge, coming from outside the main doors.

  “Fiona, move!” My scream reaches her just in time.

  She darts out of the way as the doors burst inward, letting in a rush of fresh air. An unfamiliar deep male voice cuts the silence of the room.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  Chapter Two

  Solair

  “Uh, Solair? You might wanna come see this,” Swipt calls out to me from his place in the pilot’s seat aboard my ship, the Ancestra
l Queen. The tone of his voice tells me he’s located something interesting, so I double-time it to him.

  He and I, along with the rest of the crew of one hundred and fifty Kilgari males, are on our way back from a smuggling run to Glimner that couldn’t have gone better. The cargo hold is lighter, our coffers are heavier, and I’m much happier than I was when I woke this morning.

  Everything has been relatively quiet, so I wonder what’s gotten Swipt’s attention. He’s hunched over his navigation panel, eyes narrowed as his fingers fly over the glass.

  “What have you got?” I lean down to look over his shoulder.

  “Distress beacon from an IHC freighter. The Frontier. The signal’s weak, but it says they need immediate assistance,” Swipt reports.

  “What are the ship’s specs?” I straighten and cross my arms over my chest.

  “She’s massive. Just shy of five hundred feet. Looks to have at least nine decks. Not sure what it’s transporting. I’ve tried pulling it up on the flight database but there’s only bare bones information. It’s coming from Erebus but that’s all I know.”

  “Are you sure it’s IHC?”

  Ninety nine point nine percent of IHC ships would be fully registered in the flight database, logging all pertinent information including what they carried. The fact that this one’s not following protocol is either a red flag or a gift from the Precursors.