Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1)

by Bobbi Ross

  I clenched my teeth until I thought they would crack. You need to be calm Caspia. I don't know what pissed me off more. This creep thinking we ever had any kind of relationship, or referring to the mass slaughter of our space sector as Independence Day.

  "Listen Skeeves, I'm sure that as long as I'm carrying 50 kilomounds of ervedidite ore and 10 kilojectors of synthetic organoflavic gel, doing business with me is worth 10 times any bounty the Alliance puts out."

  A predatory smile split the pustule he called a face, as he handed me back the signed data pad.

  * * * *

  I was happy to be through with this piece of skeck, but something in my brain itched. I turned back to Skeeves and his men. "Just remember, turning me or any of my crew in would be very bad for business. It might make that 10 kilojectors of synthetic organoflavic gel go boom boom." I held up a small silver-colored stick with my thumb poised over it.

  His face turned from a sickly pale yellow to a snotgreen. That made me smile. I waved bye bye to him and his cronies as we walked away. "Thanks for the credits Skeeves."

  Once out of earshot, I unwrapped the silver stick and broke off pieces of the sweetened carob-bean bar to share with my crewmates. Let that skeck search all day for nonexistent explosives. It'd serve him right.

  Not three minutes later did my ear piece start to chirp. A coincidence I was getting a call from my ship just as we finished the deal? I sincerely doubted that. "Captain, are you there?"

  It was Anya, chief engineer of the illustrious Protectorate Warbird class ship, the Razor. My ship. I left her in charge when we docked at the station, under strict orders for radio silence. If she was calling me it better be catastrophic. I tapped my ear piece to open up the channel.

  "We're headed back to the nest, what's up mama bird?" Was anyone going to remember that we were supposed to use code words while on open channels?

  Her voice was tinny due to the low-level frequency we had decided to transmit on. "A large number of official looking types have shown up around the docking ring asking questions. They seem to be taking one of the crews from a ship two slips down into custody. Can't say why, but it definitely looks too hot to come back to the nest."

  Sheetek! I would pop that cess-bag Skeeves the next time I saw him.

  "Alright then, what's the verdict?" I trusted her to make an accurate assessment of the situation. Her intuition had helped keep us alive the last 3 years after all.

  "Say an hour, give or take ten minutes. We'll let you know if there's any hawks in the sky. Mama bird out." With that she cut the transmission.

  I was torn between pulling my hair out at the prospect of staying on this floating waste bucket for one more minute and doing a happy dance for the next hour that someone on this mission finally stuck to the code words.

  I turned to face my two curious crew members. "Well fellas, it looks like Plan B."

  They both looked at me with what I guessed by the tilting of their heads was confusion, the holograms hiding their real expressions. I gestured at them to follow me. "All right boys, it's time to blend in with the locals."

  Chapter 3

  My first officer pulled his head back in from the sizable engineering service tube's hatch. Inside the rusted out tube was a shaky ladder that would take us up several flights to the main deck, where with any luck we'd be able to hide in plain sight.

  "This is our best option Captain. We already have clearance to walk around. Sure the biometrics will trick the sensors, but we'd still have to get through all the registration checkpoints if we took the lifts." He stuck a finger through his hologram to emphasize the weakness in our disguises.

  It was a good plan, but the whole situation left a sour taste in my mouth. Or was it the broken sewage pipe shooting that pink mist into the air we just passed? Either way, watching my best friend waddle like an inebriated duck was killing me. I can't believe I had to drag him through the bowels of this floating Petri dish of a space station in his condition. Oh prak! I'd just have to chalk it up to another bad decision in a ridiculously long line of bad decisions.

  Jaxx raised a questioning, bushy, pine eyebrow waiting for my nod to give him the go ahead. Would he even be able to climb the ladder in the small, confined space of the service tube? I pointed to his bellies then to the ladder.

  "Are you sure you can do this?"

  Jaxx puffed up his chest, which just made him look all the more pitiful. "Not a problem Captain."

  I stepped aside to let the ensign go first, then my old friend. He scowled, but I shot an eyebrow up, pinching my lips tight, which he knew it meant business or he would have if he could actually see my face. "After you daddy-to-be," I said affectionately then noticed the large bags on his shoulders. "Wait. Give me those,” I stopped him and pointed to his bags.

  “I’m only pregnant Captain, not injured. I can handle myself. Besides, these bags are quite heavy for your size.”

  “Don't argue with me Commander. Hand them over now. It’s an order,” I retorted as he huffed and puffed but relented in the end.

  “Good, the ladder is yours now," I added gently.

  "Why Captain, I didn’t know you were such a gentlemam." He dropped the heavy satchels at my feet, and pretended to fan himself as he stepped into the tube.

  This was going to be a very long climb up. A pregnant Floturan was not a fast climber. Normally Jaxx would be charged with protecting our flanks. But not this time. If anything happened I wanted to be there to shield my budding godchildren.

  The slow climb allowed my brain to relax and wonder, unfortunately it most assuredly wondered to the same dark place it always went.

  I'd been promoted to the rank of captain and assigned to the glorious Warbird Razor for only 2 years before whispers of an invasion force traveling through the dark region of space began to trickle into my sector. I guess it was a threat we should've taken more seriously, but we were the United Worlds Protectorate.

  52 inhabited worlds that played host to 17 distinct species, all living in relative peace. Trade was thriving. Artists and story creationists produced symphonies and literature of every flavor. The galaxy hadn't seen anything resembling real conflict in over 300 years. Heck, even I had thought it silly, still referring to our ships as Warbirds, when 98% of our missions were of a humanitarian nature; curbing natural disasters, escorting trade delegations, transporting much-needed med supplies to the outer sectors. And in the center of it all, shining like a beacon of hope and freedom stood the crown jewel of the sector, my home world, New Astoria.

  Sure there were criminals, and people who thought they could take advantage of the peace. Some thought the Protectorate weak. They thought centuries without war had made us soft. But those of us who enlisted in the United Worlds Protectorate Space Force, did so to ensure that our friends, families and neighbors, no matter what planet they came from, how many arms or eyes they had, could live as they chose to do so in peace. What nobody expected was for the Novokin Alliance to simply appear one day from behind the largest moon orbiting New Astoria.

  My home world had been decimated in the days it took to recall the Protectorate fleet back to sector one. My crew and I had been orbiting the planet Flotura. We were there to attend the opening of a new research facility meant to teach Floturan growing techniques to farmers from the outer sectors, hoping to make a life for themselves on previously uninhabitable planets. Planets that the Floturans helped to terraform for the new colonists. The first distress call reached our ship three days into our conference. My communications officer originally thought he must have mistakenly picked up an entertainment broadcast of some kind.

  When we finally made it back to my home world, decimated as it had been, it was clear that we were now winning. The United Worlds Protectorate Space Force, though weak in actual combat experience, was strong in heart. It also didn't hurt that our technology was a millennium more advanced than anything the Novokin Alliance had yielded so far. Sure, they may have had the numbers, but we were fighting f
or our people, for our homes, for our families.

  Those first few days of the attack, my crew and I fought alongside brave captains and their crews, against what we believed was the entirety of the Novokin fleet. It turned out, we had engaged only a small advanced scouting party. The main Novokin fleet entered Protectorate space a week later. The ratio of our ships to theirs, turned from 1 to 10, to 1 to 1000 over night. Whole outer planets were obliterated in a matter of seconds.

  In a further dimming of the light, the second wave of the gruesome onslaught contained much heavier armed and technologically advanced battle cruisers. They took us by complete surprise, raining down fire and mayhem upon our remaining fleet.

  I lost several members of my crew in the first engagement with this new fleet. But we still had air in our lungs and energy in our power banks. Most importantly, we weren’t alone. In a show of supreme solidarity and fortitude to uphold and protect our ideals and way of life, the Protectorate Space Forces rallied with untold determination and zeal. Once again, we turned the tide against unimaginable numbers and increased firepower. We were winning. We were winning dammit!

  And while we were winning...while the brave men and women and other genders of the United Worlds Protectorate Space Forces were laying down their lives for the ideals we held so dear, word came in from the home world. My whole world, New Astoria and the entire remaining Protectorate Senate had surrendered, calling for a cessation of all hostilities from our side.

  So many of the crews and captains used to following orders, ceased fire. But the Novokin Alliance never did. They never ceased fire. They kept going. They murdered countless numbers of people on the Protectorate ships that obeyed that order and stopped fighting back. The brutal Novokin assault wasn’t limited to military ships and outposts, but on civilian ships and colonies as well. They destroyed everything and everyone in their wake. And the Senate just stood by quiet, unmoving. Those cowards had wanted me to simply lay down my weapons and surrender, no questions asked, to the Novokin butchers. No praking way. Always thinking for myself and asking questions was something my father had deeply instilled in me. Besides, it wasn't the first time I had disregarded orders. But it would be the 1st time it didn’t pang at my conscience to do so.

  In the last three years I'd heard whispers, rumors of other Protectorate ship captains and crews who also disregarded orders and took control of their ships like me. Those unfortunate enough to be captured by the Novokin army were publicly executed on the steps of the new Protectorate Senate building. Without a trial or even the choice of incarceration.

  Suddenly, my hands were shaking and I was sure I’d lose my grip only to plummet to a horrible, agonizing death. I took in a few deep breaths as I tried to calm myself down. Looking up at my struggling friend, belly now swollen with pregnancy, a lump formed in my throat. Why did he have to risk his unborn children? Where was the justice in a pregnant man having to become a criminal to feed his unborn budlings? The Novokin Alliance did this, but not alone. I could envision the weaklings in the Protectorate Senate groveling at the Alliance’s dirty feet, and giving our galaxy away.

  “Hey Captain. I think this will do.” The ensign’s voice from above startled me back into the present.

  “Yes, all clear Captain. This access port opens to a safe, secluded side corridor leading to the station’s promenade. It should allow us to slip into the crowd unnoticed and buy us some time.” Jaxx added after scanning the area beyond the hatch with his biosensor.

  We slipped through the access port unseen and made our way onto the station's promenade. Now, all we had to do was relax and enjoy ourselves for an hour.

  I began to comb the surrounding stores and scan the bustling crowd for possible threats, when-.

  “What the prak?”

  Jaxx’s jaw dropped and the ensign gasped. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

  The world tunneled into a pinprick as my brain attempted to grasp this latest atrocity in a string of horrors that was quickly becoming the new reality of Novokin Alliance controlled space.

  Chapter 4

  "Let me go! I'll kill them all!" my usually easy tempered, calm like a lamb, first officer was roaring, ready to throw himself into the clutches of what appeared to be reptilian guards dirtying the promenade.

  Young Ensign Chandles and I struggled to hold the 6’5’’, 300lbs, densely muscled, ex-chief of security back. The suicidal tone in his voice didn’t scare me. Neither did Jaxx’s imposing size. What had me peeing my big girl pants was the now first-hand knowledge that Floturan males gained up to triple their strength during pregnancy. The panic I saw in the wide-eyed ensign’s strained face reflected my own as Jaxx slowly dragged both of us with him like we were in zero-g.

  "Hold him Ensign!” I yelled, wrapping both of my arms around his one massive arm and threw my whole body weight on it. It was a desperate but stupid move because all it got me was a nasty whiplash with Jaxx’s sudden forceful jerk forward. “J calm the prak down!" I barked at him. Sweat moistened my face and hands. “You dont want to end up to a praking Novokin prison.”

  "No court in the land will convict me Captain, not in my condition. Let me devour these sheeteks!" My quaking vegetarian friend growled, dragging us along for the ride as he stalked toward the line of chained alien slaves.

  I had to talk some sense into him fast or we'd be added to the line, or worse. "Exactly J, no Protectorate court would ever convict you. Forgetting something my friend?” I asked, letting the sadness in my heart fill my voice. “There is no more Protectorate. The place is crawling with guards and the whole station is under the Alliance rule. It has been for the last 3 years,” I said ruefully. People were starting to look our way. Dammit.

  "I will not allow slavery here again! It's been 1500 years since slavery was abolished by the Protectorate. And 317 years since my planet joined the Protectorate. My people were the last to be free! I can’t..., I won't allow such pain to befall my world again. For the sake of my people. For the sake of my children."

  "Yes," I took my big green friend by the face and stared into his eyes, "for your children."

  The wind finally came out of his sails and the big guy slumped down onto the ensign. The suffering and pain from living under the darkness of slavery were still raw in his heart and the hearts of his people. Understandably so, as his planet was one of the last to truly be freed. Floturans had a long lifespan, an average of 400 plus years, meaning that as recent as a generation ago some of his people and maybe even members of his own family had been subjected to the same travesty unfolding directly in front of us on the space station’s promenade. Jaxx joined the Protectorate, so he and his people would never have to suffer the degradation and cruelty of slavery again. Now here it was, staring him in the face, and this time he was about to bring children into the universe.

  I got his anger, but it wasn’t any way good for his growing budlings and it certainly wasn’t good for me or the rest of my crew’s health. I had to get a handle on this. Fast.

  I spun my friend towards me and whisper shouted at him. "Calm down Jaxx, that's an order. People are starting to stare at us. We're supposed to be Daunietes, so act like one." I reminded him while he glared at me with a savage hatred, or at least it felt like savage hatred, couldn't tell with the holographic disguise.

  "I’m mad as a Sartavian ice hornet too. I'd like nothing more than to dump those sheeteks out an open airlock, but we can't risk getting caught. Not here my friend, not today."

  His green eyes blazed an eerie, iridescent emerald that shone clear through the holographic projection.

  "Sure there's a price on my head, but what do you think they'll do to you and the rest of the crew when you're caught helping me. And what about your two budlings? What do you think it will be like for them growing up without a father? Assuming they get a chance to grow up at all. You want to see them in that line over there? Do you? Chained up like animals? We need to be smart about this, my friend," I said gently.


  His ginormous biceps relaxed under my grip. I purposely took deep breaths, until his breathing mirrored my own. Right now I needed his brain, not his brawn. He patted my hand. "I'm all right. Thanks Captain, I've got it under control."

  The rancid smell that permeated the air all around Jaxx told me otherwise. "Good." I said and I slipped from friend into Captain mode while backing away from the new toxic zone he had created. "Now, I want you two to scout the perimeter. Get me details on fallback positions and exit options."

  “But Captain I don’t think it wise to split –.”

  I raised my hand to stop him from questioning my order. This was my play, and it would go down how I said. I took a moment to casually study the traffic on the Promenade. Our earlier display already forgotten, we were once again lost amongst the throngs of alien life forms. Perfect. I turned back to my crew members.

  "I want contingency plans drawn up in case this goes south. I'll see if I can find out more about the sale itself, and what the prak is going on here." Grasping Jaxx’s arm I whispered, “We’ll find a way to free them my friend.”

  He nodded and then he and the ensign slipped into the passing crowd. We were supposed to be buying ourselves time, mixing with the crowd until it was safe to head back to our ship, not playing freedom fighter. Most likely that sniveling Uglevite snake Skeeves had given us up already. If the authorities were aware of my presence on the station, as I suspected, it would take a miracle to get us all out of this station in one piece.

  My gaze wondered back to the slavers' caravan. There were 3 guards escorting 12 slaves. Five women and seven men were chained up like Gulurian work hounds. All 12 of them wore signs of physical abuse bruises, cuts, hideous welts -the tell tale sign of laser whips left when touched naked flesh. They were barefoot on the cold steel of the promenade, their clothes were little more than tattered rags. Obviously, these slaves were intended as mine workers. Not meant to be sold as house servants or sex surrogates.