Saved by the Alien Dragon

by Stella Cassy

  Dashel paused for a moment – then slowly set his rifle down on the sand, gesturing for the others to do likewise. They exchanged confused looks.

  “Um, captain,” one of them said uncertainly, “we're not really going to surrender ourselves to this furball, are we?”

  “Yeah, I mean, if you're worried about the woman,” another chimed in, “we've got clear shots right through her. We can make it quick and painless.”

  “She's our best shot at securing this mining camp, and this planet,” Dashel replied. “We need her alive, so lay down your weapons.”

  “No!” the first one spat in a hard, flat voice. “I heard what Ranel said on the command deck earlier! You've had sex with this human! And now you're willing to risk our lives – put us in a Pax Pain Chamber, to be tortured to death by Mosets and Vence – just because you have feelings for her! It's not right!”

  “It's a direct order from your captain, and you'll obey it.”

  “This isn't a committee meeting, you brainless skinks!” the Pax yelled, frustrated. “Do as I say, or I'll paint you all with her brains!”

  This whole situation was falling apart fast. I wasn't prepared to wait and see how the power struggle between Dashel and his crew members ended. I craned my neck, eyeing the big, ugly, clunky piece of hardware the Pax was holding against my head. “Hey, that's a core-driller module from a Mark VII mineshaft probe, right? You've rewired the repulsor unit to decrease the recoil, and modified it into a handheld blaster?”

  “That's right,” the Pax said smugly. “It's powerful enough to shoot through six layers of ore! And when I push the button, girlie, it'll tunnel right through your empty little skull!”

  “Not without the firing pin, it won't.”

  I snatched the long, thin metal piece from the device's barrel, jamming it deep into the Pax's eye socket. He screeched and dropped the core-driller, running away as he clawed at his bleeding face.

  I calmly picked the core-driller up, sliding the firing pin back into place. The Pax were fast little suckers when they wanted to be – this one was already about fifty feet away and still going, about to disappear over a sandy ridge in the distance.

  “He's getting away!” one of the Hielsrane officers said.

  I took aim. “No he's not.”

  Zap. A thick red beam lashed out like a striking snake, burning so hot it made the air around it shimmer. It struck the Pax right between the shoulders and he dropped without a sound, his fur crackling and blazing. His small body was putting off enough heat to turn the sand beneath it to glass instantly.

  “Good shot,” the Hielsrane officer breathed. The other nodded slowly.

  Dashel picked up his blaster rifle, marching over to them. “Gentlemen,” he said quietly, “now that Natalie has proven her worth to us beyond a shadow of a doubt – and to spare me the unpleasant task of having you both executed for refusing to follow orders – let's all agree that that will be the last time you question my decisions or my leadership.”

  Both of them saluted, saying “Yes sir” in unison.

  “I'm so pleased we agree. Now let's go make sure N-7 hasn't been retaken by the Pax, shall we? And please, keep an eye out for any more Pax scouts. I can do without additional surprises today.”

  He turned to me and winked as we continued toward the mining camp.

  14

  Dashel

  When we reached the camp, I was relieved to find that it was still under Hielsrane control. I'd assigned Lieutenant Commander Garaar to it when we first took it over, and he reported that even though there had been a handful of short skirmishes with the Pax insurgents, everything was still locked down tight.

  Not only that, but Stal was able to confirm that the slaves were all in good health – though they were starting to get restless, just sitting around and waiting to see who would prevail in the fight for the planet. Tensions were high, there had been multiple attempts to break into the medical supply closets for narcotics, makeshift weapons were confiscated regularly, and more than a few fights had broken out.

  Natalie went to her old sleeping area, and as I wandered around surveying the mining colony, I could see that Stal was right. The slaves were just lying around doing nothing – some were lethargic, others depressed and irritable. Since we had to remain focused on defending our position rather than running the mine itself, there was nothing for these people to do.

  I'd seen this sort of thing before when visiting remote, under-resourced, nearly forgotten Hielsrane military outposts. When people felt useless, they tended to succumb to their own inner demons.

  And under those conditions, things could become quite dangerous indeed.

  But all of the mining equipment was still here – the Digger units, overseers' hover-skiffs, floating core-driller modules, and other pieces of machinery were standing around gathering dust.

  I had a planet full of enemies who probably outnumbered my own crew by at least ten to one with not enough drop-shuttles to go around, several kilometers of tunnels filled with heavy-duty digging and blasting gear, and about a hundred able-bodied slaves in need of activities to fill their time.

  I could work with that.

  I went to the slaves' sleeping quarters and found Natalie sitting on what I could only assume used to be her old bunk. She was holding something, and as I got closer, I saw that it was a small picture of a smiling human male. When she saw me, she tucked it into the pocket of her space suit, straightening up.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “No one,” she answered a little too quickly. “So, how are things looking around here? Can you fortify this position and use it as a base to hunt down the other Pax?”

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” I let the question of the photograph go for now. I could always try to find out more about it later. “Our weapons systems may be more sophisticated than what the Pax have managed to cobble together, but given how many of them there are – and the fact that they're using guerrilla tactics, which gives them an edge – we're still hopelessly outgunned. But what if we took a page from their book? Reconfigured the mining gear here and in the other captured camps to supplement our own surface vessels and weaponry?”

  She gave it some thought. “Could work, sure. But you'd still need people to operate them, and from what I've seen, yours are already stretched way too thin.”

  “What about the slaves? Could they be persuaded to fight alongside us?”

  “That's a much trickier prospect. In theory, yes. In exchange for their freedom and a chance to wallop the bastards who've been beating and starving them for years, they might go along with it. But they'd be hard to manage and control. Some of them might be troublemakers. Others might still be loyal to the Pax for one reason or another. I was, after all. Even putting that aside, they're miners, not warriors. You'd have to get them organized, train them in military tactics and strategy. It could take weeks. Do you have that kind of time?”

  “That's exactly what I have, as a matter of fact,” I answered. “The fleet won't be dedicating sufficient reinforcements to our efforts here for quite a while – and even when they do, they'll have to beat the Pax blockade that's waiting for them between Thirren and here.”

  “Then it sounds like our best chance to take and hold the planet,” she agreed. “I'll do what I can to get the slaves on our side. Mind you, that might be easier said than done, since I was their overseer and not a hugely popular one, at that.”

  “I'm sure you'll do your best. If they give you any trouble, I suppose you can always cut them down like you did that Pax outside. That was some mighty fancy shooting, especially for a slave.”

  “Ex-slave,” she corrected me with a laugh.

  “Where did you learn to handle a blaster with such precision? My entire crew attended the raiding academies on Thirren. Half of them have been fighting for over a decade, and I doubt any of them could have made that shot – other than Ranel, perhaps.”

  “That's because the sta
kes are different. You're used to firefights. If you miss, odds are you'll have another chance to squeeze the trigger and hit your enemy the second or third time around. Down here in the mines, we had to target-shoot seams in the rock walls to open up new shafts with extreme precision. One micron to the left or right and we could hit gas pockets or ignite the ore, blowing us all straight to hell. I was known for being especially good at making those shots. It's what earned me the attention of the supreme overseer, not to mention this collar.”

  “You're forgetting one thing,” I pointed out with a grin. “Walls don't shoot back.”

  “Hey, the proof is in the results. Unless you're saying you think you could have made that shot out there earlier.”

  I folded my arms over my chest, tilting my head. “Maybe I could have.”

  “Well, it seems to me like the only way to settle this debate is with a shooting contest. Are you up for that?”

  A few cleks later, I was standing outside the weapons locker, waiting for Natalie to select a blaster. Several of my crew members slowed down as they passed by, peering in and reacting with surprise as they saw that I was allowing her access to the weapons. They still refused to understand that to me, she was now a valued member of the crew – not a prisoner, or even some exotic captured concubine, but a fellow warrior.

  She emerged, hefting a laser pistol and admiring its weight. “I'll admit, it'll be nice to use a proper gun to target shoot for a change, instead of a rusty old shaft-cannon.”

  “I'm glad you approve. So, where should we do this?”

  “There's a valley a little way off from the camp, due south and away from prying eyes,” she said. “Once we've made sure there aren't any Pax lurking around out there, that should be secluded enough for this demonstration. After all, we don't want to embarrass you in front of your crew, do we?”

  “Your confidence will be your downfall, human,” I chuckled.

  “One way to find out, dragon boy.”

  We trekked out to the valley, and I searched it carefully – there weren't any Pax, just dimpled hills of ivory sand as far as the eye could see. I opened a metal carrying case, removing a rounded silver mineshaft probe and switching on its glowing blue repulsors. It hovered in front of us, then floated off until it was almost out of sight, a gleaming egg-shaped drone hanging over the dunes.

  “That seems about as far away as the Pax was,” I said.

  “It's much farther, and you know it.”

  I shrugged. “Well, if you don't think you can do it after all...”

  She laughed. “Just to show that you can't bait me or get under my skin with comments like that one, I'll let you have the first shot. What will you be aiming for?”

  I was confused by the question. “The probe, of course. That's the target, so that's what I'm aiming for.”

  Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough. Go for it.”

  Still shaking my head, I switched on the holo-tracking sight on my sidearm, allowing it to sync with and center the probe in its crosshairs. From that far off, I knew it would be difficult to hit it, even with the sight. Difficult, but not impossible.

  I squeezed the trigger and my blaster purred, releasing a bolt that zinged neatly off the shiny surface of the probe's top. It dipped, then re-assumed its original position – the armored casing was thick enough to withstand a cave-in, so I hadn't expected to take it down, just tap it.

  I pumped a fist triumphantly, smiling at Natalie. “Got it.”

  “Of course you did,” she snickered. “You didn't bother to narrow your shot down to any specific part of the probe – you may as well have been aiming at the broad side of a Gulthoolian grain silo.”

  “Oh? Then let's see you try.”

  She raised her weapon, taking aim.

  “The holo-tracker switch is on the handle,” I pointed out helpfully.

  “I know where it is. Left repulsor, by the way.” Without switching the sighting mechanism on, she fired the weapon. Its purple laser blast hit the probe's left repulsor with uncanny precision – the probe coughed out a thin plume of smoke, wavered in midair, then dropped to the sand.

  I let out a frustrated roar, tossing my pistol to the ground. “All those years in the Hielsrane fleet, all the enemies I've used for target practice, all the medals I earned for my shooting, and I'm outdone by a damn human slave? And a woman, at that?!”

  “No offense taken, in case you were wondering,” she said dryly. “But hey, there's no need to be a sore loser. I can think of a few things to take your mind off this devastating – and, if I may say so, truly mortifying – loss.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  Natalie threw her blaster down next to mine and grabbed me, pulling me in for a kiss. I held onto her tightly, unsheathing my claws against the small of her back – not fully, just enough for the tips to prick her skin lightly. She shivered in my arms, her hand tracing a series of elaborate patterns down my chest until she reached my already-stiffening cock. I felt her moan against my lips and nipped at them gently with my sharp fangs.

  “Mmm, you're cute when you play rough,” she murmured, unlatching my space suit. I returned the favor, until both suits were sloughed off on the white sands and we stood before each other, naked.

  Suddenly, Natalie looked over my shoulder and her eyes widened with fright. “Dashel, look out! It's another Pax!”

  I whirled, expecting to see a furry white figure aiming a weapon, but there was no one behind me. She burst into peals of laughter. “I'm sorry, I just—I couldn't resist! You should have seen your face!”

  I tackled her to the ground, growling and biting at her neck and shoulder playfully. She squealed with delight, wrapping her legs around my waist tightly. I could already feel her wetness, her pussy slick and eager, begging me to fill it. I obliged happily, plunging inside her and relishing her sharp cry at my size as I filled every inch of her.

  She arched her back beneath me, her hair splayed out on the sand. Now it was her turn to dig her nails into my back – so hard that I felt it sharply, even through my tough scales. I nuzzled her under her chin, my forked tongue flicking and slithering over the soft, pale, delicate skin of her neck. Her muscles tightened deliciously around my shaft, squeezing me with the strength and hunger of a B'Zorran arboreal python.

  Who knew that human women could have so much power in those pink little bodies of theirs?

  Her hips bucked against mine in an insistent rhythm, wanting it fast, demanding a climax that would make the sandy surface beneath us tremble with its intensity. I reached down, retracting my claws and pressing her clit with the tip of my thumb. She erupted then, her hot juices showering me – and, driven into a frenzy of lust, I came mere moments later, pumping everything I had into her until I felt drained to my core.

  We stayed there in each other's arms for a few more precious cleks, ignoring the way the fine grains of sand invaded every nook and crevice of our bodies. That would be dealt with later, in the hygiene chamber – perhaps even at the same time.

  In that moment, though, there was only our mutual bliss, and the soft whisper of the winds over the dunes.

  15

  Natalie

  The next week seemed to pass very quickly. With my help – and with Ranel acting as a tough-as-nails drill sergeant – Dashel was able to convert the slovenly group of slaves into a passable fighting force. They weren't the most formidable warriors, and a sizable percentage of them were afflicted with handicaps and maladies they'd contracted during their work in the mines. Not only that, but a gang of mischief-makers were intent on using their new training against the Hielsrane, and each other...which made it difficult for Dashel and Ranel to determine which ones, if any, could be trusted with weaponry or sensitive sentry duties.

  Still, there were a lot of them, and they were heavily motivated by the promise of freedom.

  The mining equipment was disassembled into parts by the slaves, then reassembled into vehicles and armaments by the Hielsrane crew. The Pax's idea t
o convert this gear had been a masterstroke, but now that we'd stolen the concept, we were able to do it better.

  What used to be crude lasers and core-drillers with limited battery capacities were refined into laser rifles with multiple settings and portable rapid-fire explosive launch tubes. The armor on the Digger modules was reconfigured to eliminate the structural weaknesses, and the propulsion units we installed made them capable of greater speed and maneuverability than the ones we'd faced in Nort's upper atmosphere. The hover-skiffs made excellent patrol crafts for the planet's surface. We were even able to rig the Wyvern's two dozen escape pods into small manned fighter ships, though this made many crew members extremely nervous, since it meant they'd have no way off the vessel in case of emergency.

  During that time, there was nothing Dashel and I wanted more than to indulge our appetites for each other – but we had to show restraint instead. Ranel had finally gotten over his initial disapproval (though perhaps “disapproval” was putting it mildly), but he told Dashel that even though the entire crew knew about it now, it would still be a big mistake to rub it in their faces when it was so important for them to remain focused. The last thing we needed was hostility and resentment getting in the way of what we were trying to do here. Dashel grudgingly agreed.

  One morning, we received word that a small fleet of Hielsrane ships would be joining us, commanded by someone named Lehar. When we reached the command deck to watch the vessels approach, it was hard not to notice that they weren't in very good shape – their hulls were scorched with laser burns, and many of them were either limping along at half power or being towed due to missing engine nacelles.

  “Splendid,” Stal groaned, picking up his medical kit and heading for the door. “From the condition of those ships, it appears as though I'll have my work cut out for me patching up what's left of their crew. As if I didn't have sufficient matters to attend to. Have their wounded sent to the sickbay, and please tell them to keep their moans and screams to a minimum, if possible. I have a headache.”