Primal Planet Captive: SciFi Alien Fated Romance

Home > Other > Primal Planet Captive: SciFi Alien Fated Romance > Page 10
Primal Planet Captive: SciFi Alien Fated Romance Page 10

by Skylar Clarke


  Jari’s entire crew is waiting for us when we board the ship. The group of hardened soldiers breaks into the same wide smiles that Jeyal had worn upon seeing him without shame. I expect to Jari rush away from me and into celebration, but he walks next to me instead. He will not force upon me the indignity of being carried unless he needs to, but he stays close enough that he will scarcely have to move should it look like I am in danger of losing my footing. It is not Jari’s military ship that we have boarded, but rather a much smaller, less impressive vessel belonging to a familiar soldier turned mercenary. Vince steps out from behind the bulk of the Velorians, where he had been fiddling with a blaster splayed across his lap, and gives me a quick, relieved smile.

  “You didn’t tell me this rescue mission would have my ship this damn crowded,” he remarks.

  I stop walking, and Jari stops with me. I lift a brow. “What part of military vessel full of Velorian soldiers makes it sound like I’m talking about a small number?” I retort.

  Vince scoffs. “Thought it was gonna be easy,” he says, starting toward me one step at a time. “Show up, toss them some parts, and zoom off to rescue you. But then, not only do I find out that the damage to the hull of their ship is irreversible, I find out that you greatly exaggerated how easy this smuggling ship would be to track.”

  “I’m not disputing that,” I answer.

  “You’re an asshole,” he says.

  I step forward, doing my best not to fall over, and into the embrace he offers. He is warm and solid, perhaps too warm in my present state. As soon as I’m there, I realize just how close I am to actually collapsing. He seems to as well. It is only a moment before he steps back, hands curled around my upper arms to hold me up.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “No big deal,” he answers. “Though if you don’t get these aliens off my ship soon, I’m gonna have to start charging rent.”

  There is a throat clearing at my back. I turn and find Hadar—the medic who had repaired my leg the first night on the ship—waiting rather impatiently. “Jari says you’re ill.”

  “I’m no worse than he is,” I answer.

  Jari is giving orders. There is no main room here with a map and a long table—there is simply a small, now very overcrowded space with a handful of comfortable chairs and one table. It is larger than my own ship, and I can see perhaps two bunkrooms in the back, but it is still by no means a large ship.

  “Why would we leave?” one of the soldiers is saying. “From what you’ve said we nearly match them as far as numbers go. We could wipe out this cell.”

  “We need to head to the Xzerg homeworld. If we take care of this problem first, there won’t be enough time,” Jari argues.

  Vince breaks in, his tone considering. “My ship is fast. We can’t catch them at this rate, but if we leave now and keep the pedal down, we won’t be far behind.”

  Jari nods. “We’ll call in reinforcements to this part of Veloria. There’s a base just over the mountains to the east of the sea. They could have two squads here inside an hour. In the meantime, we’ll head to the Xzerg homeworld. They want a war; we’ll make certain they don’t get one.”

  When Jari’s voice stops, they all move into action, working Vince’s ship as though it is their own. None of them question why they are helping the Xzerg and it is a testament to Jari’s leadership that they do not. Grudges run deep among Velorians, but these were soldiers, sworn to help the helpless. No doubt there are a few among them with reservations, but they are committed to keeping their planet from a second, more devastating war.

  The soldiers in motion, Jari turns toward Vince. He holds out a hand. He has been around humans for enough years to know the customs. Vince takes it.

  “You’re Jari?” he says.

  Jari nods.

  “I’ve heard stories,” Vince says with a grin.

  “Likewise,” Jari says, and then, firmly and seriously. “Thank you.”

  “Infirmary,” Hadar says. “Both of you.”

  During my time as a soldier, one of the lasting lessons I’ve learned is that you should always avoid pissing off your medic if at all possible. Jari and I exchange a look and acquiesce, following him down the hallway to where he has set up a temporary med station in front of a supply closet. No one that I have seen appears to be hurt badly, but with Velorian healing, all but the most horrific injuries from the crash would have already been hard to pick out.

  We sit down side by side on the single cot that looks as though it was salvaged from Jari’s ship and let him go to work. Jari receives a shot of something that should speed his recover along even faster than the normal astronomical Velorian speed. I am less lucky. When I ask for a shot of what Jari had, Hadar very kindly informs me that it would kill me. It is the same as most interactions I’ve had with medics—informal and filled with good-natured ribbing. It puts me at ease. After learning of how long I was on the fire side of Veloria without proper equipment, he promptly kicks Jari off the cot and orders me to stretch out while he starts an IV that will fill me with fluids. As it works, I rattle off a list of what hurts and why, knowing there’s no point in trying to keep everything to myself. In the end, there’s not much Hadar can help with aside from my heat exhaustion and dehydration. The rest of my injuries amount to bruised ribs strained muscles, and will heal on their own if I give them time to rest.

  Vince sits with us, while the IV does its work, his voice a familiar, pleasant distraction from the IV in my arm and the tiredness in my bones.

  First, we merely rehash the events of the past few days, glossing over certain, personal details that have no place in the mission. But after a while, I clear my throat and bring up another subject, tired of the morbid talk of the attack that we may be too late to foil.

  “You were on vacation,” I say. “Tell me about what lovely locale my distress call pulled you away from.”

  “I was visiting my friend, Stacy and her mate. They had a baby about a year back. They do a lot of travelling and we were in the same system for once..”

  My face must drop a bit in guilt, because Vince hurriedly says. “Hey. I can head back there way as soon as this wraps itself up. No worries. Might have brought them with me had I known what a shit-storm this would be. A few extra guns would be handy.”

  A few minutes of quiet pass, as I lay on the cot and feel the fluids working their way through my body. They are colder than my current, overheated temperature, and in a few minutes, I’m shivering. Jari grips my hand, sending warmth flowing through me.

  “You should go,” I say. “Do something productive, bully your soldiers.”

  He looks unsure. “We’ve got a few hours before we’ll be there, still,” I continue. “I’ll rest up.”

  “When we arrive,” he says. “You should really stay on the ship and continue to recuperate.”

  “I will if you will,” I offer.

  Jari shakes his head, as if he expected such an answer. He looks at my face like he would very much like to kiss me, but we haven’t yet discussed how to tell people, how to broach this subject, and he settles for giving my hand a parting squeeze instead.

  He stands and walks back down the small corridor. A moment later, I hear his voice, issuing orders yet again. Vince raises an eyebrow.

  “So,” he says. “Exactly how long have you two been mated?”

  I sigh.

  The hours pass. The pilot and co-pilot, both crammed into Vince’s tiny cockpit, send out several messages to the Xzerg homeworld, hoping to get a message through that will beat the cult to the planet, but nothing sends. I leave the cot against the advice of both Vince and the medic, and struggle my way into a suit and a pair of armor that Vince has in his supply closet. It is not the new type that melds itself to one’s shape and as a result, it is slightly too big and fits wrong in several places, but it is far better and far safer than simply wearing my own battered things. It has the added benefit of making me feel more like myself and less like the frightened civilian t
hat I did my best to mimic on the smuggling ship.

  In armor, I feel a foot taller.

  Other than Vince, no one has been made privy to the news that Jari and I have mated, but I have a feeling the other Velorian soldiers already know. I keep receiving meaningful looks, and more than once, I walk into a room to find that a conversation stops just as I enter, the soldiers glancing up me with sheepish expressions. We are a on a mission, and now is not the time for such announcements. They seem to understand that at least, and behave professionally for the most part.

  After five hours in the quickest flight path, we arrive at the Xzerg homeworld. It is a small grey planet that I have always been told is overpopulated. I worry at first that they will stop us as we fly through the planet’s perimeter, but it there is not so much as a single signal coming through our comm to warn of us of proper landing procedures. I have never ventured to this particular planet, and am perhaps guilty of holding some grudges myself. In many of the missions, I have completed, there were Xzerg involved in one scheme or another. My own unfair prejudices do not mean that I have any wish to condemn the entire planet for the dangers I’ve faced in the past.

  The Velorian pilots land the ship fairly smoothly, despite their lack of familiarity with the craft. “I’ve never managed to land it that well in five years,” Vince grumbles, and then suggests something about hiring them onto his crew.

  “You don’t have a crew,” I gripe, stepping into the last of my armor and strapping a borrowed blaster to my hip.

  “I could.”

  “If I can’t tolerate your company long term, what makes you think that someone else could?” I say.

  Jari watches me adjust the settings on the unfamiliar gun. “I wish you would stay,” he says. That is as far as he takes it, not going so far as to attempt to forbid me. As the officer in charge of a military operation, he could technically bar both Vince and I. But I am a part of this now, and the outcome has become personal. He will not take seeing this through away from me.

  “I know,” I say simply, and I want very badly to kiss him. I do my best to communicate the sentiment with my eyes and nothing else. His own expression warms in response.

  The ship has fully stopped, the engines cooling. The small ramp begins to work its way down, and the soldiers assemble in front of the door without being asked. “What’s the plan?” Vakkon asks.

  I’m wondering that myself.

  “Do our best to cooperate with the Xzerg while communicating the threat,” Jari says. “Keep your weapons out of your hands unless I give the order. We don’t want them mistaking this as an attack from Veloria.”

  There are nods all around. Blasters are secured. As one, in synch group, the soldiers head down the stairs with Jari in the lead. Vince and I bring up the rear.

  Outside, the landing zone only contains a sparse number of people, most of which seem to be visiting for the purpose of importing goods. The atmosphere of this planet paints the sky a dark umber, with barely any bright light to be found. It doesn’t seem to be heavily polluted by the sharp, clean smell of the air, which tells me that this is simply some strange quirk of the planet rather than a consequence. Jari steers the group toward the exit, the soldiers falling easily into the same formation they would take on a battlefield.

  It takes no time at all for someone to notice us. We look quite out of place. There aren’t many visitors to the Xzerg homeworld that are not salesmen or smugglers, and a squad of Velorian soldiers accompanied by two token humans stands out quite a bit.

  The Xzerg landing zone apparently does have a loose sort of law, and in no time at all we find ourselves surrounded. It is a clumsy trap, but Jari makes no move to avoid it. He truly wants them to believe we are not a threat to them. Judging by the suspicious snarls on most of their faces, he has not been altogether successful.

  There are perhaps fifteen Xzerg, armed and staring. It is strange to see a group of the insect like creatures together, as most of my dealings with them have been with isolated aliens. I imagine that it is the sight of a group of armed Velorians that has them so shaken. The two groups have almost nothing to do with each other since the great war, and when they do, it is not usually benevolent. Honestly, I’m surprised that they haven’t yet started shooting.

  “State your purpose here,” One calls, plainly ready to fire his blaster if we give the wrong answer.

  A few of Jari’s soldiers feel the tug of their fingers toward their own weapons, but they don’t let the temptation win.

  “Your city is in danger,” Jari says.

  “I can see that,” the Xzerg replies.

  Jari plows on. “There is a cult that wishes to the restart the war between our peoples. In the course of tracking them, my comrade and I discovered that they plan to set a bomb off in your city. They came in on a large smuggling ship several hours ago. If you can use your radar to find their landing zone, you could—“

  His blaster rises to point at Jari. “When has trusting a Velorian ever brought us anything but death?”

  I do not know what setting the blaster is on, but the sight of it pointed there makes my heart freeze in my chest. I can feel it stuck there with no movement, like a pill caught in my throat.

  I step forward. “You speak as though the Velorians betrayed you,” I say. “As though you had some partnership with them that was broken by the war, but that’s not the case. It was a fight between two growing species for territory, and then for the sake of vengeance. Both of your peoples committed wrongs. We came to make certain there are no more.”

  His blaster stays where it is. “Who are you to tell us this?”

  “Tessie Owens,” I say simply. “I was captured with Jari, and I can vouch for what he says. We don’t know the exact location of where they planned to place the explosives, but they mentioned targeting children.”

  Their faces are so different from more humanoid forms that they are hard to read, but they do something that amounts to distress, to a trace of worry that this is real.

  Vince clears his throat, raises a hand. “If another non-Velorian voice helps here, then I vouch for him as well.”

  The gun lowers an inch, two. “Follow us. If any of your men picks up a weapon, they will be shot.”

  The words are harsh, but we take them as a victory, following the Xzerg to the control room through which they watch ships enter and depart. The leader speaks to Jari in a measured voice, still plainly skeptical, but willing to work with him if it means saving the lives of his people. Children are precious to every species it seems—even the Xzerg.

  “We don’t usually watch the smuggling ships closely,” the leader says. The other Xzerg officers had said his name several times now, but even with my translator implant running, it sounds like nothing more than a jumble of hissing sounds. I do not make any attempt to repeat it. “They bring needed supplies. Occasionally, if one behaves oddly or sets off our scanners, we will board and search it before giving clearance.”

  “Nothing set off your scanners?” Vakkon asks.

  “Not today.”

  Jari breaks in. “They must have some way of bypassing it. We already know they’ve managed to cloak a ship that large. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that they know other tricks as well.”

  “Look for a class five,” I say. “It doesn’t look like anything special, but if you use the scanner to search for unusual amounts of added tech, you might hit something.”

  We cross our fingers (there are various numbers here, though most of us have the usual ten). The ping comes barely a minute later. It is a tense minute, filled with awkward silence, but it turns to a comfortable one as the visual rep shows us an image of the ship setting down at a landing zone not terribly fair from here by shuttle.

  The officer zooms in on the screen, squinting at the map.

  My translator has better luck with Xzerg letters than with sounds and as the words ‘school’ come into focus, I feel a sharp, anxious twist in my stomach.

  “Let’s go
.”

  We catch them in the act. It is early morning by Xzerg time, and we have arrived at the school perhaps an hour before the students are set to arrive. There are several in this section of the city, and with the quick action of the Xzerg officers, their military has been dispatched to each one, shutting down the surrounding streets and scanning for bombs. Jari and his men break into small groups and join the search. I would feel strange being nudged into a different group. With my experience, I would feel compelled to give orders to soldiers who ranked lower than I had when I left the military, but I had no such rank now. Jari seems to realize that it is a complicated situation, and makes no objection when Vince and I walk with him.

  We follow the officer assigned to us, watching him walk in front of us with a scanner set to search for large quantities of explosives. The Xzerg has a stern set to his mandibles and eyes that scarcely look up from his task; I find myself trusting him and the rest of the task force to do what needs to be done.

  Once the military had been notified, our entire group could have easily returned to the ship, but as mentioned earlier, this was now personal for all of us—Jari’s men included. We wanted to see the mission completed.

  There is a flash of red on the scanner, a high, beeping tone that reminds me of a scream.

  “This way,” the Xzerg’s voice says, filtered through the translator badly, a gravelly, barely there, sound. He says a few words into his comm that have the bulk of the forces headed our way.

  It is strange to me, seeing them work together in tandem. They are usually viewed as loners, more suited to mercenary work than anything that furthered their own society. They are antiquated, unfair views, but based on my encounters, I have had them nonetheless.

  We walk in a loose formation, Jari at my back and the Xzerg at my front, Vince somewhere behind us. We are still walking, eyes scanning various parts of the school’s exterior, when the Xzerg speaks again.

  “There!” he says, gesturing with one spindly finger.

  We rush forward, blasters leaving their places at our backs and at our hips, and zero in on the sight of two cultists, one a Velorian and the other a Kandalun, walking away from the back entrance of the school. The Velorian has done his best to disguise himself to avoid drawing attention to his race, a cloak pull low over his head, its bulky shape hiding the majority of his body. It is a clumsy attempt. His tail is fully visible from behind and the spines along his back make the cloak fall oddly around his body. His eyes light on the four of us, and he runs without bothering to warn his fellow cultist of the impending danger. He turns to flee as well, but too late.

 

‹ Prev