Kratos: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Paranormal Romance

by Ashley West

"Have you seen this?" He pointed a long finger to one paragraph of the text on the screen.

  Kratos squinted, but he didn't recognize the language, and even if he could, the text was too small for him to make out. Leave it to Combo.

  "Mm, that sure is a bunch of text," he said. "I see it."

  Combo's sigh was long suffering. "Allow me to summarize, then. A string of small planets have been destroyed. From the Lendar belt all the way to...hm."

  "Hm?"

  "All the way to the solar system containing the planet Earth."

  Kratos blinked. He'd never been to Earth personally, and usually that planet wasn't even important. Just full of humans who were slowly but surely killing themselves and each other with the way they lived. But recently, Earth had been all anyone could talk about. The Alva had made their last stand on Earth, and anyone who had access to news or gossip knew about it.

  "You think it's all related?" Kratos asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  "It must be. A trail, perhaps?"

  "For someone to follow, or to send a message?"

  "Hm." Combo tapped his lips with spindly fingers, considering Kratos' words. "Bigger planets send a better message."

  Kratos nodded, acknowledging that. "But a string of planets does the same job with less risk. Be different if it was just one or two here and there. No one would pay attention to that. But a bunch in a line? Can't ignore it. And with how popular Earth's been recently..." He didn't think he needed to finish that statement.

  Combo proved he was correct, nodding slowly. "A good point. I wonder."

  "Wonder what?" Milara asked as she stepped in, fresh from a shower by the looks of it.

  Kratos shrugged a shoulder at her. “Who knows? Combo’s being cryptic again.”

  “I am not,” Combo protested. “I have...a theory.”

  Milara and Kratos exchanged glances at that. Combo’s theories were so good usually that you could just go ahead and accept them as fact. Milara had a theory of her own that he had a shred of the premonition in him somewhere because his thoughts were scarily accurate. She pulled up a seat next to Kratos and they both looked at Combo eagerly.

  “Fetch Sanaal,” he said. “You know how he feels about being left out.”

  “For someone so big, he’s like a baby,” Kratos grumbled. He grabbed for the mic to the overhead comm system and pressed the button to broadcast his voice all over the ship. “Sanaal to the cockpit. I repeat, Sanaal, haul your giant bottom to the cockpit. In a snappy fashion. Please.”

  “Nicely done,” Milara said dryly, and Kratos just flashed her a smile.

  It took about ten minutes for Sanaal to make his way there from wherever he’d been on the ship, and he settled his bulk into one of the seats near Milara. “What’s going on?”

  “Combo has a theory.”

  He didn’t seem to need to hear more than that. “Let’s have it, then.”

  Combo rehashed what he’d told Kratos about the planets being destroyed, and Sanaal and Milara seemed to come to the same conclusions they had about it.

  “Now when you say destroyed, what do you mean?” Milara asked.

  “I mean devastated,” Combo replied. “People killed, homes burned, factories torn down. Explosions, fires, wholesale murder.”

  Sanaal swore violently. “These smaller planets don’t have nobody to protect them,” he said. “No military, no warriors. Void, their Peacemen are non-existent. Who’d do this?”

  “Can you think of no one?” Combo asked.

  They all furrowed their brows at that. They’d come up against some shady characters in their time as mercs. Men and women who claimed to serve their people and really wanted to hurt them. Rulers who sold their people into slavery to pay off their debts. Bandits, mobsters, murderers, thieves. All sorts of people who weren’t worth the muck on the bottom of a slug.

  “The Grey,” Combo said, when no answers seemed to be forthcoming.

  “The Grey?” Milara asked, her eyes wide. “You think they’re doing this? It seems a little unsubtle for them.”

  “She’s got a point,” Kratos said. “They’re usually more stealthy than this. It’s why we only know them as The Grey in the first place.”

  “Void addled pirates,” Sanaal grumbled.

  Everyone knew of The Grey. Even if a person had never encountered them themselves, and it was really for the best if they hadn’t, they knew the stories. Piracy had been outlawed in every galaxy at this point, but there was still one group, actively moving between planets pillaging. And no one could catch them. No one ever saw them. No one knew what they looked like or how many of them there were or where they had come from. Their victims didn’t live to tell stories about them, and they had never been caught.

  They were the monsters out of a child’s story, used to keep people in line. ‘Don’t stay out after dark or The Grey might get you’. ‘Don’t talk back to your parents or The Grey will come’. Things like that.

  No one wanted to invite The Grey into their lives because it meant death. Wholly and unavoidably.

  “Consider this,” Combo said. He slid his fingers along the command controls, bringing up a map of the far edge of the galaxy that led to Earth’s solar system. A curving line of small planets stood out, and as they watched, Combo marked each one that had been destroyed with a glowing red X, six in total. “Earth has been on everyone’s radar of late,” he intoned. “Because of the Alva and the Randoran.”

  “And the Hakkan,” Milara pointed out. “They got involved a bit.”

  Combo inclined his head. “Yes. Earth has been more popular lately than ever before, even with its habit of sheltering refugees. The trail of broken planets leads right to it.”

  “And you think The Grey are somehow interested in Earth now?” Kratos wanted to know. “Just because the Alva were?”

  “I think The Grey are the only ones capable of this magnitude of destruction,” Combo replied. “What they want with Earth, I couldn’t say.”

  “It’s something to consider,” Milara said.

  “Why?” Sanaal asked. “We don’t do altruism, Mil. We ain’t running in there to save the day.”

  “But it’s best to keep an eye on the situation,” she insisted. “If only so we can outrun it if stuff goes belly up.”

  “Or if say, someone on Earth wants to hire us,” Kratos added.

  “To take on The Grey?” Sanaal boomed in disbelief. “Boy, you’re out of your mind.”

  Combo had steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful. “It is something to consider.”

  “The Void it is!”

  Kratos chuckled. “Where’s the Sanaal I know and love?” he asked. “The Sanaal I know would never back down from a fight. With The Grey or with anyone else.”

  “This is different.”

  “Nah, it’s just big. We can handle it.”

  Sanaal shook his head. “Let’s hope we don’t have to.”

  Their next stop was the port city on the planet Cincir. Always a bustling point of trade in this part of the galaxy, people came from lightyears away to do business here. It was the biggest center of trade on this side of the Tri-Belt, and merchants hawked their wares at the speed of light.

  It was impossible to walk down the street and no be assaulted by fifteen or more people calling out what they were selling. Everything from food to weapons, with plenty in between. The whole thing was a riot of light and color, smells and noise, and Kratos loved it.

  Combo, on the other hand, found the whole thing as unnerving as people found him, generally, so he stayed away, remaining with the ship.

  Sanaal and Milara had taken a few of the others and gone to get supplies, leaving Kratos to wander the market district on his own.

  He was dressed casually, in soft pants and a long tunic that was belted at the waist, weaponless as far as anyone could see. There were no fewer than four knives tucked into various places on his body. If anyone had a problem, he could solve it easily.

  Kratos moved through t
he throngs of people, sidestepping carts and mothers with far too many children. He stopped to look at shiny things that caught his attention, looking at jewels and gems from Horu and admiring their clarity, though he didn't buy any.

  He purchased lunch from a vendor who was selling piping hot flatbreads piled high with spiced meats and dried fruits, and he ate as he walked and admired.

  It was a warm planet, and so the women were in their clothes for the weather, short tunics with barely anything underneath, legs and arms and midriffs showing. It was a delight for the eyes, and he leaned against a low wall after purchasing a cup of juice to admire the sights before him.

  Somewhere in the distance he heard a cry, and he frowned, craning his neck to see over the crowd. It wasn't strictly his job to get involved in things, but he couldn't ever just ignore trouble. It was something people either liked or hated about him, so he pushed his way through the crowd, listening for more shouts.

  He found a crowd gathered in a circle some ways off from the main market path. Kratos used his size to get further in and he saw a young woman crumpled to the ground in the center of the circle, clearly distressed. As he watched, a man loomed over her and cursed in a language Kratos didn't speak before spitting at the woman.

  Kratos' blood boiled. "Don't do that again," he said.

  The crowd fell silent, and they all turned to look at him. There was recognition in the eyes of some, and Kratos drew himself up to his full height.

  The man in question didn't seem to know who he was. Or if he did, he didn't care. His eyes were wild with anger, and his clothes were stained. The woman on the ground looked worse for wear, crumpled in on herself, with her clothes torn. Kratos could see a rapidly developing bruise on her cheek and another, in the shape of fingers, on her arm.

  "Just who do you think you are?" the man spat. "This is none of your business!"

  Kratos snorted. "Really? Because I think once you decide to air out your problems in public it becomes everyone's business."

  "You a Peaceman?" the man demanded.

  "No. Not even close."

  "Then to the Void with you. You don't have authority here."

  It was true enough. This wasn't Kratos' fight, and he wasn't even being paid to make it his fight, so logic said he should just walk away and mind his own business. But logic was something Kratos had gotten good at ignoring, and he had a hard time walking away when someone was being treated poorly. Especially a woman.

  "Maybe not," he said agreeably. "But you're scum, and I hate scum."

  "You-" he broke off, eyes wide and face turning a rapid shade of red. "How dare you!?"

  Kratos shrugged. "Calling it as I see, friend." He flashed his most charming smile, and that was all it took.

  The man was barreling towards him like a demon with an attitude problem, pushing people out of his way as he went, and Kratos took a step back as people started to scatter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman pick herself up and hurry away, and he smiled to himself.

  And then it was time to fight.

  By the time it was all over, he had nothing more than a couple of new bruises and a rip in his good tunic to show for the fight. He hadn't even needed to draw his knives to make short work of the man. His anger had gotten the better of him, and by the fifth time Kratos had put him down in the dirt, he'd decided to just stay down.

  Smartest thing he could have done, really. The woman he'd been harassing was nowhere to be found, so Kratos had made his way back to the main market to buy dessert and a couple of other things before heading back to the ship.

  Combo was waiting for him when he entered, and he shook his head. "You are incorrigible, aren't you?"

  It wasn't really a question.

  "I don't know what you mean, Combo."

  "Consider that every damsel in distress is not actually in distress, please," Combo said before handing him a cold pack to put on the bruise on his cheek.

  "You weren't even there," Kratos grumbled, but he took the cold pack and hissed as he pressed it to the bruise.

  "I didn't have to be. I know you."

  Kratos rolled his eyes. "The others back yet?"

  "Not yet. But that is for the best. I need your help."

  His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. Combo had never asked him for help with anything. "What's going on?"

  "I want to take a closer look at the destroyed planets. I need you to help me convince Sanaal."

  They had a policy among the four of them. The Kilan was bigger than just them, but they were the leaders, and they made decisions together. If everyone didn't agree, then they didn't take a job. But this wasn't a job. Not yet. But Combo had a look on his face that Kratos had never seen before, so he nodded.

  "Okay. I'll do my best."

  Chapter Four: On the Trail

  “No.”

  “Sanaal-”

  “No.”

  “Oh, come on. You haven’t even heard the whole thing yet.”

  “Don’t need to hear the whole thing. Still saying no.”

  Kratos sighed and was about ready to bang his head against a wall. He’d been going around and around in circles with Sanaal over this for the past hour at least, though it felt like much, much longer.

  The large man was refusing to bend on his notion that anything even possibly involving The Grey was something they should keep their noses out of, and nothing Kratos had tried was working.

  “There ain’t enough money in the whole universe, Kratos,” he’d said when Kratos had tried to point out the kind of bounties that were on the heads of members of The Grey. Enough that they’d probably never have to work again, but Sanaal wasn’t interested.

  “Just what is your problem with this?” Kratos asked. His arms were folded, and he was leaning against the doorway of the cargo bay, watching Sanaal put away the supplies they’d gotten. He briefly considered helping, but then discarded the idea because it wasn’t like Sanaal was working with him here.

  “My problem?” Sanaal asked, incredulous. “Void take it, Kratos, this is The Grey. No one’s ever caught them. All you get when you mess with them is dead. You wanna get dead?”

  Kratos made a face. “No, I don’t want to get dead, Sanaal. I’m just saying that the payout might be worth the risk. And even if we don’t hunt down The Grey, there’s probably people who need help all along that path they carved. Thieves making use of the chaos and all that? You know we could go in and clean up. It’s been ages since we’ve done anything.”

  Sanaal set down a box with a thump and sighed, leaning against the stack. He looked like he wanted to argue, but Kratos could sense that he was wearing him down. Good. Combo didn’t appreciate failure, which, come to think of it, was probably why he didn’t ask for help often.

  “Fine,” Sanaal said, turning his golden gaze on Kratos. “We can go along the path. You’ve...got a point.”

  Kratos beamed brightly. “Oh, Sanaal, you say that like you’re surprised, and it wounds me. I always have a point, honestly. Anyway, Combo thinks this will be good for us. You know Combo wouldn’t steer us wrong.”

  Sanaal muttered under his breath about where Combo could stick some things, but Kratos cheerfully ignored that, whistling as he left the cargo bay and headed for the stairs.

  “That was tactfully done.”

  Kratos jumped and turned to see Milara stepping out from one of the rooms they used to store things that were less than legal. “Give a man a fit, why don’t you?” he muttered. “And...was that a compliment? From you? To me?”

  Milara rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I take it all back. You’re an idiot.”

  “You’ve already said it now, Mil. You can’t take it back.” He fell into step with her as they headed up the wide metal staircase that led to the lower deck. “Are you going to rant about how dumb it is to follow pirates around?”

  She shook her head. “If Combo thinks it’s worth checking, then it probably is. I trust his judgement.”

  “You never say yo
u trust my judgement.”

  “That’s because I know you, Kratos.”

  “Wounded!”

  With a course set, they headed off. Combo was pleased, or as pleased as he got, Kratos supposed, and he was almost smiling as he set a course for the closest planet in the line of the ones that had been destroyed. Sanaal was being prickly about it, which was odd for him since he was usually the most jovial of them all, but Milara had a private word with him about something, so he seemed willing to content himself with just sitting there in his seat with his arms folded over his barrel-like stomach.

  “What are we looking for, sir?” one of their members ask Combo. Milara referred to them as the underlings, and they basically were there to provide manpower and follow orders. Combo regarded them as his underlings most of the time, and treated them as such.

  “Anything,” he said. “People who need help, thieves, clues as to how this happened. Any of it.”

  “Anything that looks like it’ll pay, basically,” Kratos said, looking smug. He knew Combo had some kind of ulterior motive because that was how Combo operated. There was always something with him, and if he could get two things done at once, then he would. But it wouldn’t be smart to bring that up around Sanaal, so Kratos kept it to himself.

  As they approached the first planet, the devastation was easy to see even before they entered the atmosphere. The whole place seemed dead and lifeless, and even though Kratos had never been there before, he was willing to bet that it hadn’t started out that way.

  When they landed, it was even worse. Combo’s sensors beeped as he scanned the area before they disembarked, and he sighed. “No signs of life.”

  “None at all?” Milara asked, eyebrows up in her hairline. Or where her hairline would be if she hadn’t shaved her head, rather.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “Was there a lot here to begin with?” Sanaal wanted to know.

  “I am not sure. We will investigate.”

  And that was the last word on the matter. Everyone, Sanaal included, followed Combo off the ship. The ground was dusty and dry, cracked under their feet. The sky was hazy, and it was hard to tell if it was from dust or pollution. The remnants of the people who’d been here were easy to see in the dilapidated houses and ruined buildings.