Karak Warrior: An Alien Shifter Sci-Fi Romance (Alien Shapeshifters Book 2)

by Ruby Ryan

  The other participants were blocked by the walls of the arena in front of me, but soon they came into view. Two were wolves. Not just wolf-like monsters, but actual wolves, sleek and grey and identical to the ones that roamed Yellowstone back home. But they moved a little differently, in a way I couldn't place but insisted they did not come from earth.

  The final participant was the strangest of all. If you took an octopus and crab and mushed them together, you'd get something in the ballpark of this thing: tentacles and claws stuck out from its body in random, asymmetrical ways, and its torso seemed to be a ball of scaly flesh. It had no legs that I could see, and moved forward in jerky, slithering motions like a snake. My brain didn't want to look at such an impossible creature, so I returned my gaze to the Karak, wondering which was Jerix.

  "...Hormannia, from Wolvae-2," the announcer said in my ear. One of the wolves stood on its hind legs and nipped at the air, and the crowd made a noise that was a semblance of a cheer. It went through the names, many of which sounded too strange in my ear to remember, until finally it said, "Jerix, the Dishonorable."

  The Karak beam farthest from me glowed extra bright for two seconds. The crowd made a deeper noise, which sounded more negative than the other cheers. I wondered why they'd called him the dishonorable, if it was a nickname like WWE wrestlers had, but then the announcer was moving on.

  "The final participant alive in the Pit will be allowed to progress," it explained formally. "Karak are allowed two shifts each. Land-based creatures only."

  "Wait, so all eight are fighting at the same time?" I said.

  The cat-thing next to me turned and said, "Of course, as in all grand melees. Eight participants for the eight electrons in oxygen, the atom which unites all life."

  "Oh, right. How could I forget."

  The crowd noise rose to a crescendo of excitement, and then something glowed extra bright on the opposite end of the Pit. It was up in the ring build around the outside, in a room wider than all the rest, a Karak that seemed larger and brighter than all the rest. It shimmered like a supernova, so much that I had to squint and shield my eyes--which many of the other creatures in the audience also did.

  The Dominion Lord. That had to be it.

  BEGIN, its voice boomed, and the cheering quickly dimmed.

  My eyes locked onto Jerix's shining form. Please be safe, I prayed, wondering if there was a God to pray to out here.

  Down in the Pit, the participants began to move.

  10

  JERIX

  The fight began.

  Many thoughts passed through my consciousness in that moment. I had not known who I would be fighting until I stepped into the Pit, and I would need to use my two shifts strategically if I was to survive. Part of me wished to know where Leslie was, to look upon her one last time before I died, but it would be impossible to reach out with my consciousness and detect her with so many Dominion viewers in the crowd.

  Two fellow Karak. Two Wolvae. A cat from Andromeda-2B. A mammoth-like beast I didn't recognize. And a methane-crustacean from the Forax system.

  A split-second passed.

  The two Wolvae to my left turned toward on another, not as friends but as enemies. That was good; I'd feared they would team up for the melee. Across the arena, one Karak faced the methane-crustacean and began to shift, but I didn't have time to see what it was doing.

  The mammoth beast to my right twisted quickly, locked onto me, and charged.

  Speed would be my armor in this fight, so I shifted into a lean Wolvae. I felt my four legs materialize into place, thick with fur and claws like tiny razors. The mammoth lumbered toward me, closing fast, and I finished shifting just in time to leap out of the way.

  The mammoth brought down its front legs on the spot where I had shifted, missing crushing my head by inches. I felt the air from its paws brush back my fur as I moved.

  The crowd roared with excitement, then disappointment, as I bound away.

  Jerix the Dishonored. The name clung to my skin like oil, tainting every inch of me with foulness. But instead of allowing myself to be despaired I focused on that feeling, guiding it to fuel my anger.

  I would restore my honor, or die in the attempt.

  The mammoth turned, but I was already circling around behind it while keeping an eye on the rest of the arena to ensure nobody surprised me. The mammoth moved slowly; a weakness I could exploit.

  It lumbered forward, swinging wildly with the massive arms sprouting from its back.

  I loped along easily, remaining in the mammoth's blind spot while I became accustomed to my Wolvae form. Great warriors practiced shifting into the forms they would use in combat, sliding from one body to the next effortlessly. I had been allowed no such practice, and felt almost drunk in this body I had not occupied for years.

  The Dominion Lord wishes me to die quickly.

  I spared a glance up to his platform, where he shone brighter than the other Karak on the Council. My dishonor must be great indeed for him to force me into a melee so soon after returning from my tour.

  The mammoth suddenly darted with shocking speed, and one meaty fist swung across and struck me on the hind legs. I spun wildly in the air before landing, sliding several feet across the dirt. Moving with instinct more than sight I rolled sideways, and felt the immense weight of the mammoth stomping through the space.

  I turned the roll into a jump, leaping back to my feet and darting a safe distance away. The mammoth crashed into the wall of the Pit, shaking the ground all around and pulling another roar of excitement from the crowd.

  Speed is my armor, I thought.

  A glance behind me. One of the Karak had already been cut in half by a light-beam from the Andromeda cat, its light fading sickeningly on the Pit floor. The other participants were still locked in individual duels, but the cat was looking around to find another fight to join, and as the nearest to him I feared its gaze would fall upon me.

  I needed to end this duel soon, or the cat would end it for me.

  Taking a chance, I charged directly at the mammoth. It was still dazed from crashing into the wall, turning its head slowly in my direction. Urging as much speed into my legs as I could, I closed the distance. It saw me, and began to raise one of its arms to shield itself, but by then I was inside its reach.

  A gasp went up from the crowd as I leaped through the air. The mammoth's fist swung and missed, too slow, and my perfect arc brought me down on the space between the mammoth's head and torso.

  I lashed out with my claws.

  The mammoth's skin was leathery, but not tough enough. I felt my claws tear through fur and skin and flesh, a foreign and intoxicating sensation that brought a tingle up my Wolvae spine. The clawing motion spun me over the mammoth's head, past it, and I landed on soft feet on the other side.

  For an instant the mammoth was frozen in place. Then dark blood gushed from the wound in its neck, and it collapsed to the ground, squirming pitifully.

  The crowd screamed its pleasure at the sight.

  My Wolvae brain rejoiced in the carnage, and the pleasure of the crowd. It wanted to fall upon the dying mammoth and tear it apart, rip long chunks from its flesh and feast before lesser animals scavenged it, but my Karak brain overruled such desires and forced me to focus.

  The one Karak had finished dying, the light having gone out from its halves. The other had shifted into a second Andromeda cat, but now bore a chest wound that revealed pink and red organs, and he cried out in agony as he died.

  The two Wolvae still circled one another, snarling and snapping.

  The original Andromeda cat had chosen the methane-crustacean to fight, and the two were locked in battle, the cat's light-beams slicing back and forth to match its foe's claws.

  I have a moment, I realized.

  I felt paralyzed with options. I only had one remaining shift allowed, and I did not want to make the mistake of choosing poorly. I could remain in my Wolvae form longer, but its speed advantage was negated by t
he other Wolvae, and would be useless against the agile cat and crustacean.

  What are my strengths? I wondered.

  I did not shift often. For a Karak scout who usually observed and recorded from a distance, it was rarely necessary. I had little experience that would be valuable in the Pit.

  Except for one thing.

  At the beginning of my tour, one of the planets I'd visited held a creature called a Borelisk. Its body was covered in armor-like scales, and it possessed the ability to shoot acid spines from its mouth. While in orbit above that planet, young and curious, I'd shifted into a Borelisk to experience what it felt like to be in a foreign body.

  The memory was old, but it was better than anything else I could think of, and ranged spines would give me a significant advantage.

  I felt the crowd's reaction as I shifted a second time, atoms bursting apart and re-forming like a tempest. My core appeared, a vertebrae extending down and curving out like a snake's tail, supporting the rest of my body. Tiny, useless arms shifted into place, and then my head and brain.

  KILL, was the immediate impulse in the animal's mind, as strong now as it was when I'd first shifted long ago. KILL. MAIM. DESTROY.

  I could not remain in this form long without going insane.

  One Wolvae had struck a crippling blow on the other, who was now limping and leaving a trail of blood. I turned toward the other battle, the cat and the crustacean, and processed the thought in my mind.

  Trying to form and shoot spines was like imagining a phantom limb. I could feel the sharp spikes of cartilage recessed in the muscles of my mouth, but struggled to actually shoot them. I concentrated and tried again, and this time one did launch, but it only traveled three feet before splashing on the ground.

  The crowd made a surprised noise, curious at this new form they had never seen.

  Come on. I had the element of surprise now, but it would not last. I could not waste it. Borelisks could fire their acid spikes hundreds of meters, punching through shells as thick as armor. Why couldn't I?

  I tried again, and this time nothing happened at all.

  The sound of the crowd growing with excitement was my only warning. I turned in time to see the surviving Wolvae sprinting at me, sleek and spry, a homing missile of snarling teeth.

  My Borelisk instinct took over. I twisted and opened my wide jaw.

  The sensation of a spike launching was painful, but I did not care in that moment. The spikes fired with incredible speed, but missed the Wolvae to the right, and I adjusted my aim and fired another volley, three spikes sliding across the space he moved. Instantly, the Wolvae lurched as if it'd been punched, its sprint changing to a fall and slide. It screamed in agony as the acid spikes dissolved in its skull, and chest, and leg, the green acid sizzling in the air.

  The crowd screamed in ecstasy, drowning out the Wolvae's cries.

  By then the crustacean lay dead in seven writhing pieces, and the Andromeda cat was nearing me cautiously, eyes flirting over to the dying Wolvae with surprise.

  KILL AND MAIM AND TEAR AND BLEED AND PAIN, my Borelisk consciousness demanded.

  I leaned back and then jerked forward, firing a new burst of acid spikes at the cat. But it was quicker, and had been expecting it, because it threw itself sideways into a roll that easily avoided my shots. I slithered toward it eagerly, closing the distance so I could not miss, and the cat pulled a round shield from its back and held it to the side tentatively.

  It moved sideways with careful steps as I neared. I knew that as soon as I fired, it would launch itself at me, closing to a safe distance. If I missed I would surely die; I had no other protection, and this Borelisk body was too slow to get away.

  We circled each other, waiting for the moment, the final two participants in the Pit.

  Finally I could hold back no longer; the Borelisk demanded carnage. I fired three acid spikes, killing blows aimed directly at the beast's torso.

  It was quicker than I, bringing its shield around to block the shots. Acid splashed across its surface, bringing a new undulation from the audience. I prepared another volley.

  But as I tried to shoot again, I found myself unable. There were no more cartilage spikes within my mouth, and I sensed it would take hours longer for them to regenerate.

  Oh no.

  But the cat wasn't closing the distance on me; it was shaking its arm, and shouts of despair filled the air. The acid from my spikes was dissolving its steel shield, eating away at its arm. The creature tried to toss it aside but the straps were stuck. Finally it did so, but it was too late, and it fell to its knees while cradling its ruined arm.

  The crowd roared, matching the wounded animal's agony.

  I neared, because that is what Borelisk brain demanded, and loomed over the cat. Its arm had been dissolved down to the bone, a sickening sight to my Karak mind, but it filled my Borelisk impulses with bliss.

  The cat looked up at me, begging for mercy with its eyes.

  I wanted to be merciful; I tried to shift back into my Karak form, but of course I had used my two allotted shifts, and the shield around the Sunken Pit prevented a third. And the Borelisk part of me was too strong, so close to a kill, and it snapped out with its jaws and tore a chunk of flesh from the cat's neck.

  The hot blood ran through my teeth, and down my jaw, and in that moment I felt pure ecstasy.

  My opponent collapsed to the ground, and then the announcer roared.

  The grand melee is complete! Jerix the Dishonored is the victor!

  I felt the shifting imposition lifted from me, and while I still possessed sanity I quickly shifted back to my Karak photons. I could still taste the beast's blood on my tongue, metallic and wonderful. The feeling sickened me and elated me all at the same time.

  A mixture of cheers and boos came from the crowd, and I looked up to the Dominion Lord's seat. He was gone now, the light of his body nowhere to be seen. I felt a burst of satisfaction that he would not see my death today.

  Karak guards appeared at the far door, beckoning me onward. I shimmered my Karak body in a show of pride for the crowd, then followed them out of the Sunken Pit and into the darkness beyond.

  11

  LESLIE

  Oh my God.

  The Sunken Pit was the most brutal thing I'd ever seen. Like Roman Gladiators in the Coliseum, cranked up several alien notches. And even though most of the creatures in the pit were strange to my eyes, their screams and cries of agony were obvious as I watched them die.

  And Jerix...

  Somewhere, deep within my primal chest, I was filled with joy at his performance. And not simply at the relief that he'd survived the melee: pure pleasure at seeing him destroy the other creatures. Ripping that elephant thing's neck apart, and firing weird green spikes at the others. It was like rooting for a sports team, except it was someone I knew, and the stakes were a thousand times higher.

  I was not ashamed to admit that it turned me on. And judging by the roar of the crowd, I was not the only one.

  Jerix shifted back into his light form, and I could feel the pride pulsing from him. And then guards were leading him from the Pit, and the crowd began rising from their seats.

  "The next melee will begin in ten minutes," the translator told me in my ear, but I was jumping up and making for the exit.

  My original guard was there within seconds--I don't know how I knew that the Karak beam was the same one, since they were more-or-less indistinguishable to my human eyes, but nonetheless I knew--and wordlessly guided me away from the Pit and back to the transportation platform.

  "Where is Jerix?" I asked. "I want to see him!"

  He is already back at your cell, he replied, as if I should know that.

  "Cell? You mean the room he's been given?"

  The Karak guard gave me a burst of emotion that very clearly meant: no shit. I guess sarcasm was universal.

  I watched the buildings pass on either side as the platform ran through the city, one of the two suns setting in the
sky.

  Jerix was indeed already in the room--the cell?--when I arrived, a shimmering beam of light.

  I hadn't realized how debilitating it was being alone on this planet. Even surrounded by a crowd of fellow creatures, I'd never felt so alone as in the moments while watching Jerix battle for his life.

  The weight of all my choices, flying out here with only one friend in the world--literally one friend in this world!--pressed down on me. If I lost Jerix, I would lose myself, and I knew that with deep certainty.

  He turned his gaze upon me.

  Leslie.

  His voice bore the weight of what he'd done, horror and amazement and even strange wonder. I went to him, stepping close, and then stopped when I remembered what he was.

  "I want to touch you," I said, relief washing over me that he was still alive, a delayed reaction to the carnage of the Pit. Jerix obeyed instantly, photons shifting into the human I knew.

  He trembled.

  "Oh God, are you okay?"

  I touched him, and he flinched from my touch, and opened his mouth in a silent chatter.

  "...I don't know," he finally spat, the words coming with difficulty. He shook his head, which seemed to clear his mind a tad. "I don't know if I'm well. I feel on edge, alert and trembling at the same time!"

  "I think it's adrenaline," I said. "Your pulse is through the roof."

  I did what came naturally, what any human would do: I embraced him.

  There was nothing sexual in that moment, holding him close to my chest and caressing his brown hair. He still quivered with fear, or excitement, or any combination of the two, and as a cop--former cop, I guess--I knew the feeling from the first time I'd discharged my firearm.