The Arrival: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Paranormal Romance

by Ashley West

  It was the same thing Poola had told him for the most part, and Sorrin made a frustrated noise. "That isn't what I came to discuss," he said. She wasn't going to change his mind any more than Poola had, and he didn't want to go around in circles discussing it with her.

  "Then why are you here, Sorrin?"

  "I thought you said you knew."

  She gave him an arch look and shook her head. "Perhaps I want to hear it from you. You came all this way to say it, did you not?"

  "It wasn't that long of a journey."

  "That is beside the point."

  It was just like old times, honestly. Her wit was unmatched, and she'd never let him win a verbal sparring match to date. Sorrin had always admired her for that. Small and female she might have been, but she was no pushover, and she bowed to no one.

  She wanted to hear him say it, and it was the reason he was there in the first place, so he drew himself up and let out a soft sigh. "Halphia, I'm going after them. And...I don't expect to be coming back."

  There. He'd said it. He'd said it, and he knew that she was going to hit him again or else yell at him or something, so he braced himself for that.

  And continued to brace himself.

  And then stared at her when she didn't respond at all.

  Instead she was just watching him with that same look of hurt and sadness in her eyes that she'd had when he'd walked out of the remnants of her office years ago. Sorrin knew that she'd taken it personally, even though that hadn't been his intention. He hadn't been leaving her, just her service, and even though he wasn't leaving her now, he knew she felt the same way. He shouldn't have come.

  "Halphia-"

  She cut him off by lifting an imperious hand.

  "You're going after them," she repeated. "And you don't expect to be back. Sorrin, what is wrong with you? Do you think your death is going to bring back those we lost? Do you think it will restore your comrades to life? Your family? Do you think any one of them wished for your demise in their last moments?" He had expected her to yell at him, but her voice was even and flat, like she was just tired, and it was Sorrin's turn to sigh.

  "That isn't the point. I know I can't bring them back. All I can do is avenge their deaths."

  "This isn't vengeance," she said, and it was in that same tone. "This is a suicide mission. And a selfish one at that. No one, absolutely no one will benefit from you doing this, and yet you're going to do it anyway because you only care about yourself."

  "That isn't true."

  She snorted. "Isn't it? When you could have stayed here and helped rebuild, you fled. When the people could have used your help, you were gone."

  "I was injured."

  "You got better, clearly! You're standing here before me, looking like every bit the warrior you were when you left four years ago. You could have come back." Now her voice dropped to something resembling a whisper. "I thought you were going to come back."

  It hit him then, that Halphia had needed him. She'd been in charge of all of this, the entire city and its reconstruction, the funerals and all the mourning that had no doubt happened. Her own feelings had been pushed aside so she could be there for her people, and no one had been there for her. That was Sorrin's role, traditionally. As her friend, he was the one who went to her and made sure she had someone to vent to at the end of a long day or when the rest of the Senate was being impossible to work with. Or when tragedy struck. She'd relied on him heavily, and he hadn't been there.

  It was a wonder that she'd let him in at all. This was just another failure. Something he'd messed up to the point of not being able to fix it. People kept telling him that it wasn't his fault this or that happened, but they didn't see. His carelessness, his selfishness was just making everything worse.

  "I shouldn't have come."

  When Halphia looked up, her eyes were blazing, and she was truly mad now. "Is that what you heard?" she demanded. "Honestly, I don't know what happened to you, Sorrin. Or rather, I suppose I do, but it just makes me so sad for you. You're going to throw your life away for no reason, you act like you have no right to be here when this was your home for so long. You just don't understand, and I don't know how to make you see. I missed you. Do you understand that? I missed you like I was missing a limb, and I kept telling myself that it would be fine because you were coming back. I saw how upset you were. I saw how much Gollen Par meant to you and how much what happened affected you, and I knew you were going to want to make it right. So I waited. And I waited. And you never came back."

  “I know.” There wasn’t anything else to say, really. They both knew what had happened, and they both knew what was going to happen now, and there was really no way to make it different. Sorrin had failed. He’d failed the city, he’d failed Halphia time and time again, and now he was going to make sure that he couldn’t fail anyone again.

  “Why are you here?” she asked again.

  “I wanted to say goodbye.”

  “You said goodbye the first time,” she pointed out. “If you never meant to come back, then why say it again now?”

  Sorrin didn’t have an answer for that. Telling her that Poola had suggested it was the wrong response, and he knew that. There wasn’t much he could really say to make her understand why he’d needed to do what he did. So he went with honesty in a different way. “Because I wanted to see you again before the end of it. I wanted you to know that I…” That he what? That he was going to do this for her? For the people? That he’d be thinking of her to his last? “That you were the best friend I ever had.”

  A war took place on Halphia’s face, then. She looked like she desperately wanted to stay angry with him, but just couldn’t bring herself to do it, and finally she gave in and let the tears well in her eyes. She’d missed him, she said, and Sorrin could see it now. He could see how much she wanted to ask him to stay, and he could see that she knew he wouldn’t.

  There were no more words between them. Sorrin took the initiative and stepped closer, enveloping her in a hug. Halphia was still for a moment, and then she sighed and hugged him back. They both pretended like she wasn’t crying.

  “She’s all done,” Caldir said when Sorrin walked up to the roof. He was grinning and covered in grease, so Sorrin was sure that he’d gone and done things ‘the old fashioned way’. That was fine. There wasn’t anyone else around that he was going to trust with making sure a ship was good enough to get him all the way to Earth, so if Caldir said she was done, then she was done.

  Assuming ships had genders, which he usually didn’t.

  “You’re sure?” he asked, because he wanted to hear the rundown of what had been done.

  “Of course I’m sure. What in the void do I look like here?”

  Caldir rolled his eyes without waiting for a response and motioned Sorrin to come forward. They were using the roof as a sort of launch pad for the ship, and it was a wonder their landlord hadn’t complained about it yet. Sorrin meant to be gone before she could start. It was the only place that had enough room for the ship, since it was much larger than his personal vessel and wouldn’t fit in the hangar where he parked it.

  The ship wasn’t pretty, that was for sure. Poola hadn’t been kidding about the state of it, but he hadn’t had to pay for it or the fuel that it would take to get him to Earth (“They think you’re establishing a trade route, and they support that,” Poola had told him when she’d dropped it off; he hadn’t asked who ‘they’ were).

  He followed the smaller man around the outside of the ship, taking in the details of it for the first time. Before, he’d just left it and told Caldir to do what he could, but now he was actually seeing the ship and learning it before he’d have to fly it to Earth.

  It was a large, dinged up thing, painted a rust brown. Either that or it was just that color naturally. It looked like a bulb of some kind, pointy in the front and then bulbous towards the back, ending in thrusters that shot out the back. It didn't look like it would move as fast as one of the ships he was used
to from his days as a warrior, but it would do the trick.

  "No windows," Caldir commented. "Except for the big one up front, there. The autopilot looks...functional, but I don't think I'd rely on it for more than a little bit. You might set it for Earth and end up on Erephina. Climate control's in great shape, and everything else seems to be working well enough."

  "Weapons?" Sorrin wanted to know.

  Caldir snorted. "What kinda ship do you think this is? This baby isn't for fighting, Sorrin. It's for transport, usually the transport of goods. There's one bedroom, maybe two if you squint, and the cargo's empty, but it smells like someone was transporting animals back there. So, you know, have fun with that."

  It was fine. It was all fine. Whatever he had to do to get to Earth, he'd do. Ride in a ship that wasn't made for this, leave his life behind, let everyone think he was insane for still chasing this. He knew this was his calling, the only reason he was still alive, and a little set back or slow down wouldn't kill him.

  "Thank you, Caldir," he said, bowing at the waist to the smaller man in gratitude. "Your help has been invaluable."

  For the first time since they'd met, Sorrin got to see Caldir look flustered. His eyes were wide, and a flush spread over his face. He flapped his hand at Sorrin and shook his head. "Cut that out. It was no problem, really. I like messing around with stuff like this, and it was fun. Can't have you dropping outta the sky halfway to Earth or anything, can we?"

  "I'd rather not have that happen, no," Sorrin replied. "Which is why I appreciate your efforts."

  Caldir was still blushing and he kept shaking his head as he moved to head back into the building, clearly uncomfortable with this show of gratitude from Sorrin. "Whatever, man. Like I said, no big deal. I'll see you." He stepped through the door that would lead back to the inside of the building, and then stopped. He turned around and gave Sorrin an odd look. "I guess I won't, will I? That's weird."

  "What?"

  "I won't see you. Because you'll be gone, right? You're leaving? Not coming back."

  "No," Sorrin said. "I won't be coming back."

  "And that's really weird. You're like this...fixture, you know? Like a grumpy chair or something."

  Sorrin fixed him with a flat look. "A grumpy chair."

  "You know what I mean! We're not friends, not really. I don't think you even know how to have friends anymore, but you're always here. Always around. I get under your skin and you tell me I'm a pest or whatever, and it's...I dunno. It's like a ritual. One of those things I always do when I get home from work. And now you're not gonna be here."

  He had a point, Sorrin supposed. While the two of them were far from friends, because Caldir was right, Sorrin didn't have friends anymore, really, but they were a part of each other's lives. They chatted sometimes, Caldir needled him, Sorrin snapped back. It was a ritual, a routine, and while Sorrin was relatively certain he could live without it, he hadn't realized the impact he was making on Caldir's life. He sighed.

  "I'm sorry."

  "For what?" Caldir asked, looking bewildered. "For leaving? You were always gonna leave."

  "For getting involved with your life. That was never my intention."

  Caldir rolled his eyes, looking completely baffled and annoyed at the same time. "Great stars," he said. "You really will let yourself feel guilty for anything, won't you? I'm not upset about it, you sourslug. I'm just making a point. Just talking. I'll miss you. Maybe."

  "You'll forget me." He hoped that was true. It would be for the best. The whole point of moving out here had been to avoid people, to avoid getting anyone mixed up with him again. For their own safety.

  "I don't think so. Gonna say goodbye to your biggest fan?"

  Sorrin didn't need him to clarify who he was talking about. "No," he said. "It's better if I don't. If I just leave, and things go back to normal."

  "You really don't get it. You don't get anything. Having you here was normal. It's you leaving that's gonna be weird, and before you say anything, I know you were always gonna leave. I get that. Anyway, I wouldn't count on her not noticing you're leaving. She's weirdly in tune with what you do."

  Sorrin didn't think much of that as he went back to his apartment to make his final preparations. He had several things left to do before he could leave, and he planned to be gone in the early hours of the morning while people were still sleeping. It was easier that way.

  He'd gone down to the landlady's office to turn in his key card and tell her he wouldn't be coming back, and on his way back up, he ran smack dab into Amalda.

  Sorrin hated it when Caldir was right.

  "Oh!" she said, stepping back, but not without 'steadying' herself against his chest with one hand first. Sorrin wasn't imagining the caress to his muscles, he was sure of it. "Sorrin. I didn't see you there."

  "That's quite alright," he said stiffly, stepping back himself. "Have a good evening." Maybe if he hurried...

  "Are you going somewhere?"

  Great Creators, she was persistent.

  "Yes," he said simply. "And I should get back to my preparations."

  "Vacation or visiting family?"

  Sorrin just gave her a flat look. If she knew anything about him at all, she'd know why that was an idiotic question. "Neither."

  "Oh. Something for work, maybe?"

  "No."

  "Oh. Well, when will you be back? I was thinking that we could-"

  "I won't," Sorrin said, cutting her off. Letting her get herself all worked up about this wasn't going to do either of them any favors, and he wanted to make sure she was aware that waiting for him was a stupid thing to do.

  She looked taken aback. "What?"

  "I won't be coming back," he clarified. He didn't think it needed any more explanation than that, so he started walking again, stepping around her as he made his way back to his apartment, already reviewing his mental to do list on the way. This was for the best. All Sorrin did was disappoint people. He'd proven that with what had happened with Halphia and the way she'd looked at him as he'd stepped out of her office for the last time ever.

  It was better if he just did his duty and then let things lie. No one else would get hurt or have to deal with him letting them down. Since clearly that was all that he was good for.

  But, like so many other things, there was no use dwelling on this. He had a mission, a job to do, and it was best to focus on that in the hopes that it would finally make a difference.

  Chapter Four: Choose

  Everyone was tense that next morning.

  Something had changed when they'd come to take Nathan, and now no one knew what was going to happen next. Where was he taken to? Why wasn't he back yet?

  There were too many questions and not enough answers. What was worse, there was no way to get answers, short of demanding them, and Abby was fairly certain that no one was going to do that. It was for the best that they kept their heads down and tried not to attract too much attention to themselves.

  Breakfast was eaten in silence, and everyone shifted nervously when they were brought their food, almost like they were worried someone else was going to be taken. But no one was. The food was delivered, and they ate, whispering amongst themselves about what they thought was happening.

  The problem was, there was no precedent for something like that. Alien invasion was high on the list of things they needed to worry about in this day and age. Mass shootings, fire, and weather phenomena were what they were prepared for, so there was nothing to fall back on with this. Nothing to tell them what to do next or what to look out for. They were pioneers in this respect, though none of them seemed to think it was anything like an honor.

  The hours after breakfast were quiet and people started to calm down some. At least until another guard marched his way in and pointed to Abby. "You will come with me," he said and moved to open the door.

  Her heart climbed into her throat.

  The last thing she wanted was to be singled out. There was safety in numbers, but once she
was led away from the group, who knew what would happen to her.

  It took her some time to move, and the guard made an impatient noise that was more melodious than it should have been. "Now," he said.

  Abby didn't make him ask again.

  The room she was brought to was large and mostly empty. It was also beautiful, just like everything else. The carpet was a rich crimson color and seemed to be covering a floor made of marble. The same marble that made up the walls and the arched ceiling from what she could see. It was a pale, ivory color, and shot through with strands of smoky grey and gold. Windows were carved into the walls, allowing her to see that it was daytime. As there were no windows in the prison room, she hadn't known what time it was for days. This was...overwhelming. At the head of the room was a dais, and on the dais was a throne, and that served as the only furniture that could be seen. Abby cocked her head to the side, confused. Who even had a throne these days? What was this?

  No one was seated on the throne, but the guard who had brought her dropped to his knees as soon as they were within ten feet of the throne. He prostrated himself before it, arms stretched overhead and forehead touching the carpet. Abby continued to stand there, perplexed.

  Why had she been brought here? What were they going to do with her?

  For a long moment, nothing happened, and then a door that she hadn't noticed opened in the wall that was behind the throne. Silence reigned and then the most beautiful woman Abby had ever seen stepped through and into the throne room.

  She was tall and willowy like all the others, but her hair was wound up onto her head in a fiery red mass, a few tendrils allowed to escape and cascade down her back and around her face. Where the rest of her people had rosy skin, she was alabaster pale, and it made her red lips and hair stand out even more. Her eyes were the same gold, and Abby realized that she matched the room perfectly.

  She was swathed in white, the silken looking cloth draped over her body in a dress that went over one shoulder and down to her feet, leaving only one shoulder and arm bare, as well as an expanse of her throat.