Alien Dragon's Mate: Braxan (Science Fiction Alien/BBW Romance)

by Juno Wells

  She got out her comms unit. It hadn't been thirty hours yet, but the one thing she had forgotten to ask last time was becoming pretty urgent. She glanced up at the sky, shielding her eyes. Two suns, none of them orange. It would drain the battery fast, but she needed answers now.

  Braxan was breathing slower and deeper now, probably more asleep than unconscious. Soon he'd be awake.

  This time, it was Daria. “Ohmigod, I'm so glad you're still- you know, out there!” she said. “I can't believe they'd kidnap you that close to the base! Oh, and hi, I guess.”

  Hearing her friend's chirpy voice felt like a refreshing shower to Amelia, even if it was badly distorted by the interference from the suns. “Hi. Yeah, still going. Things are a lot better now. And some things are worse. I don't have much time. The comms is using a lot of power right now. Can you please ask Carl what it means when the nanogel in a medpack is applied to a wound and it turns blue?”

  “Okay. Stand by.” Daria could be businesslike and effective when she wanted to be, and Amelia could hear the urgency in her own voice.

  Braxan moaned. She placed a hand on his cheek. “You awake?”

  He didn't reply, just moved his hands a little.

  “Back again,” Daria said against a background of bad static. “The doc is online. He asks if the color of the gel is light blue, sky blue or dark blue.”

  “It's like a baby blue. So light blue, I guess.”

  The line was silent for a while.

  “The doc asks if it is you who are wounded.” Daria was talking slowly, enunciating each word very carefully.

  “No, it's someone else.”

  There was a brief silence again. “Okay. He says to keep your distance to that person and to ideally not touch. But I guess that's too late.”

  “Why? What does it mean?”

  “Seems all the blues are bad. Light blue is means there's uranium in there. It's toxic and radioactive. It's one of the things they used in atomic bombs in the old days.”

  “Uranium? How the heck ... okay, thanks. I'm down to ten percent battery. How are things at the base?”

  “Yeah ... they're not great, Amelia. No dragons have attacked us so far, but we can see them in the distance. Just circling. And there are Pirgks all around us now. We're almost out of ammo. Everyone is barricaded in the fortified domes.”

  Shit. That was bad. Daria didn't say it, but it was clear that the base wouldn't survive another attack.

  “Copy that. Just one more thing. When I get there, everyone should be ready to evacuate the base and climb out of the crater by the shortest route. To the south-east. I think we have an escape route now. Amelia out.”

  She didn't wait for a reply. The comms unit was scorching hot in her hand as it did its best to punch through the strong solar interference with an understandable signal. She placed it back in her pocket and turned to Braxan. He was awake and had turned around on the ground so he was looking at her. And it looked like he was smiling.

  “There you are,” he said, and Amelia was astounded that even in his obviously weakened state, he sounded relieved and even happy.

  “There I am,” she confirmed. “What happened to you? Did you hit your head or something?”

  He slowly got up into a sitting position. “I must have. But now we're together again. That's all I wanted.”

  She looked him over. He was so pale his skin looked almost translucent. The wound was pale and gray. As if the flesh was dead or dying. She was no expert, but uranium didn't sound like something anyone would want anywhere near them. “You look terrible. How do you feel? Think you can walk for a few hours more?”

  He laboriously got to his feet, then stood there swaying, scanning their surroundings. “Yes. I see no Pirgks around. But they will be inside the crater. We will defeat them there.”

  She had an urge to embrace him. Even this worn out, he was so sure of coming out on top that it almost convinced her, too. Even if she knew breaking through the masses of Pirgks around the base would be pretty near impossible.

  She dug into her jacket pocket. The crashed spaceship Marqatzo had reached the conclusion that there were many plants in the jungle that were edible to humans, but he had recommended the berries that Braxan had already discovered. They had been a favorite of the Byt because of their flavor and their modest lifting effect on the mood. The ship had directed her to a bush, and she had picked as many as she could fit into her pockets.

  Braxan took two and chewed them slowly. “Thanks. From the position of the suns, we must get going now to reach the top of the crater rim in the dark.”

  Amelia nodded. “Sure you're ready to go? You don't look so good.”

  He slowly turned his head to look at her. Now his face wasn't pale, but reddish, and his eyes were glazed. It looked like he wasn't quite focusing on her. “The berries will sustain me.”

  He started walking towards the crater that they could see beyond the trees. He walked slower than before, and once in a while he steadied himself on a tree trunk. Amelia followed. They moved slowly. But at least they were moving.

  There were no Pirgks around when they reached the edge of the jungle. Now that Amelia knew what she was looking for, the sharp outline of Marqatzo's buried hull was pretty obvious as an edge that ran along the treeline. The air was much cooler here, too, as if the jungle held on to all its heat.

  She took Braxan's hand. It felt hot, feverish. “You need a break?”

  He kept going, and slowly focused on her. “No breaks. If I stop I can't be sure I'll be able to get going again.”

  Going down the rocky slope had been hard enough. Going up was a murderous struggle. Whichever huge meteorite had impacted the planet's surface thousands of years ago and thrown off this gigantic mass of rocks, sand and loose gravel must have been the size of a city. The masses were not compacted by rain or wandering animals or any other process, so they were as loose as the day the meteor had hit. With each step they took, they slid a half step back down. Sometimes they would release avalanches of rocks and sand, and they both fell many times when their foothold gave way under them.

  On Earth, craters like this would be overgrown with all kinds of plants, and sometimes they were so worn down by rain and wind and the forces of nature that a crater the size of the Gulf of Mexico could sometimes hardly be seen. The planet Belzon must have been pretty much sterile before Marqatzo had crashed there with his cargo.

  Amelia kept feeding Braxan the berries. She sensed that they were all that was giving him the energy to keep going. She had asked Marqatzo for medical supplies or food, but he had nothing left in his mind-bogglingly huge cargo holds. The Byt survivors had lived off his stores for centuries, and they had cleaned out every scrap long before the Pirgks arrived and finished them off.

  Braxan was stumbling with almost every step he took now. He was feverish, and even in the cool air his torso was covered in a layer of sweat.

  His breath was rapid and ragged, and she could hear a rasp in his throat. But he kept up with her, and she had to admire him. Most people would have given up. He didn't. He would keep going or die trying. It was the most male thing she had ever witnessed. Making money or killing people or doing sports – that was what most men rated highly. But this, going on far beyond exhaustion and illness and just keeping going no matter what, that was power. She loved him for it. And for a million other things.

  He stumbled one more time, and then he no longer walked, but crawled on both his hands and his feet, unable to straighten up or keep his balance. His whole body was trembling with the effort of just moving a foot forward at a time.

  She suddenly realized that he wasn't going to make it. She was out of berries, too. And the medpack didn't have any more stimulant patches.

  “Braxan,” she said and felt her throat tighten. “Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?”

  “You have ... done ... so much,” he panted. “I only regret ... that I can't ... make it easier for you.”

  Bit
ter tears burned in her eyes, and she placed one hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat and boiling hot to the touch. “Why are you doing this? You've done nothing but help me since I met you. I don't think that wound of yours can be treated, even at the base. And I think you've known that all along.”

  He kept going, as fast as he could. “I did ... suspect that. My purpose ... is to ... help you as much as I can.” He laboriously lifted an arm and pointed to the ridge above them. “Soon ... we'll be up. And then ... the Pirgks might see us. I will ... protect you ... then.”

  Amelia just nodded. Braxan was obviously not in any shape to protect anyone at all.

  But he was right – they would soon be up on the crater's edge. And he wasn't stopping. His progress was slow, and he was wheezing with every little inch he climbed, but he was making progress.

  The two suns had set, and the short Belzonian night when all three suns were down was upon them. It was the best time for trying to sneak into the base. The Pirgks were not nocturnal, and as far as anyone knew, they couldn't see in the dark any better than humans could.

  Even so, Amelia made sure to lie down on her stomach before she inched up the edge. She might still present a clear silhouette against the starry sky, seen from the floor of the crater.

  She inched forward on the gravel, and more and more of the bottom of the crater became visible to her.

  And there was Belzon Base! Not at all as far away as she had feared. She could probably walk there in under an hour. And the Pirgks ...

  Her heart sank in her chest. Even in the darkness, it looked like the bottom of the crater was moving with a life of its own. She had seen anthills look less busy than that. A great number of Pirgks had come, and the mass of repulsive aliens got thicker close to Belzon Base, like a rock concert seen from above.

  “I think that is going to be pretty hard,” she whispered.

  Braxan crawled up to her, slowly, then looked out. “It is. We're down to ... our last ... option.”

  “Yeah? And what is that?”

  He didn't reply, just rolled over on the ground and stared towards the sky. Amelia got worried and put her hand on his chest, checking his pulse. No, still alive. But probably in some kind of feverish coma.

  She had no idea what to do. The medpack was empty of things that could help.

  Then he cleared his voice. “What happens now might surprise you. I have kept a secret from you, and I do regret that. But I think you'll agree that I had some reason to.”

  Then he closed his eyes and lay lifeless on the rocks.

  “Braxan? Can you hear me?” Her voice stuck in her throat. He had a pulse, but it was very weak and slow. It felt worse than if it had been fast. She couldn't wake him up.

  He was out of it, and this time she knew she couldn't bring him back. He'd known it, too. Those things he'd said sounded worryingly like some kind of last words.

  Oh god, she couldn't lose him! She didn't care much about any secret he might have kept from her.

  “Braxan,” she whispered into his ear, because her voice failed. “I don't know if you can hear this. But I want to say thank you for helping me so much. I wouldn't have survived any of this without you. You've saved my life too many times to count. I don't care what you may have done before. You've only been great to me. And I love you for it.” A sore sob escaped her, and she clung to him, wanting to keep him there.

  She sat there on the rocks, with his head in her lap and stroked him while the life ebbed out of him.

  She hadn't felt his head before. Now that she did, she could feel ridges and bumps that were so symmetrical that they had to be a natural part of him. Like the scales, except these felt different. Sharper. Harder. Like ... like a crown, hidden by his hair ...

  She bent down lower to get a better look in the darkness. She had seen that sheen before. A golden crown.

  The world spun around her as the pieces came together. A golden crown. Uranium in the wound. His secretiveness about how he had been shot. The location of the wound. Marqatzo's warning that he was dangerous. The way she had been saved from her fall. All the little bits and pieces.

  The blood froze to ice in her veins. How had she not understood that before? He had to be ... he was the ...!

  “Oh fuck. Oh fuck!”

  There was a thin scream in the air and her head snapped up. Three huge dragons were diving down on her from straight above.

  “Oh fuck.”

  22

  - Amelia -

  She crouched down to make herself as small as possible, and then they were there. Two of them hovered in the air above her, while the third, a sleek, blue dragon, stood in front of her on four powerful legs while it folded its wings together on its back. It had a crown too, but it was the same blue color as the rest of it. It looked at her with eyes that were a solid sky blue, angling its head quizzically to the side.

  Amelia met its gaze easily, then calmly looked down at Braxan's pale face. She didn't have any more emotions. She wasn't afraid anymore. She couldn't reach the base through the mass of Pirgks down on the plain. Braxan was dead. This was the end, and it didn't matter much to her if she'd be burned by dragons or killed by Pirgks. She had no more fucks to give.

  Have you killed my captain? The voice in her head was different from the one the golden dragon had talked to her in. The voice that Braxan had used to talk to her in when in his dragon form, right before she had shot him.

  She shrugged. “I think so. I did shoot him a couple of days ago when he and you attacked our base.”

  So he said. It was a particularly nasty arrow you used.

  “We were attacked.”

  The dragon came closer, smoothly walking on the loose rubble without displacing as much as a grain of sand. It is the lesser being's lot to die when an Ultraco deems it right.

  Braxan's hair was smooth between her fingers. How strange that a dragon could have such soft features on its face.

  “Not everyone feels that way. I didn't know dragons could be humans, too.”

  Dragons can't. Only we are both. We are the Ultra Draco. What shall I do with you?

  The other two dragons circled around in the air and occasionally hovered completely effortlessly. It seemed to break the laws of nature that beings that large could be held up by those wings. “I can only assume that you want me dead, too.”

  Perhaps. You did kill my captain. On the other hand, you are his Mate. That must be taken into account.

  One of the other dragons came zooming in and landed close by, then quickly walked up to Braxan and lowered its muzzle down to his face, just inches from Amelia. The large head froze for a moment, then snapped up. The blue dragon turned its head away from Amelia, and it looked as if the two beautiful and terrible beings were in some kind of silent conversation.

  Then Amelia yelped as the blue dragon unfolded its wings and leapt into the air, casually grabbing her around her waist with one claw and pulling her with it up in the air.

  “What the hell do you think you're doing,” she yelled and tried to pry the very sharp claw off her waist with her fingers. It was cold and hard, and it wouldn't budge. But still the dragon held her in such a way that it didn't feel painful or even uncomfortable.

  Our captain turns out not to be quite dead. We can't help him ourselves. Only you can.

  The other dragon had the lifeless Braxan in its claws and came after them, while the third kept behind them.

  Amelia froze. Braxan wasn't dead? The bright spark of hope lit up her mind. But the worry and fear were back, too. “Me? I've pretty much done all I know. If the nanogel doesn't work, I'm fresh out of ideas. But there's a doctor on the base.”

  No doctor can help an Ultraco. Our bodies are not entirely in this realm. We function in other ways, more ethereal ways. Healing a wound must be done by the same person who inflicted it.

  Amelia glanced down. There had to be thousands of Pirgks surrounding the base. It was obvious that their main attack was close at hand. “Yeah? How?
”

  In kind. Like for like. Symbolically, of course. There are always two elements to the healing. In this case, it's up to you what those elements are. It is the intent that matters. But there must be symmetry.

  The dragon was flying fast, but not so fast that the wind around Amelia's ears was uncomfortable. They were getting closer to Belzon Base, and she could see the dirty gray mass of Pirgks under her. Some of them cheered when they saw the dragons. After all, they were allies. “There must?”

  Yes. Symmetry. You shot him with an arrow, penetrated his armor. Thus he must penetrate you. Somehow.

  She bit her lip. “Um. Yeah. I think that's been taken care of.”

  Ah. I thought so. There is a slight shimmer of Ultraco in you. Only one who has known the ecstasy of the Ultraco's embrace have the soul that I sense in you. You have gold in you now, thus it was the golden Ultraco who placed it there.

  The Pirgks below them looked up, and now they were all cheering. It was a deafening disharmony, like nails on a blackboard. Amelia reflexively pulled her legs up under her to get as far away from them as possible. “Uh-huh.”

  Then you must address his actual wound. Healing him. Making him whole again.

  They were very close to the base now, and Amelia cringed at the thought of the chaos inside there when the barricaded colonists saw the dragons come this close. They must be sure they were about to be fried. “How?”

  Making him whole again. Add what was taken. Sacrifice something of your own, something that resonates with him.

  The dragon flapped its wings as it put her gently down on the ground right by the entrance. The other dragon landed and carefully placed the unconscious Braxan on the sand, then took off again.

  The blue dragon beat its wings lazily as it hovered over her. Only you decide what that is. It must happen soon. Our captain is almost dead.

  “Can you help us against the Pirgks? Even if he dies?”

  In this, I can only act as ordered by my captain or my Emperor. The dragon turned in the air and beat its wings, and suddenly it was a hundred yards away, its long, elegant tail flowing after it as it soared.