Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  Ramone would probably not be expecting an attack, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be ready to fight. She had no way of knowing what weapons he had at his disposal, but she was prepared to bet that the arsenal packed into her Skyhawk would outclass anything he might be able to point her way. She had solar torpedoes, a raft of radionic missiles, and enough kraeton-tipped rockets to annihilate several moons. Ramone would be unlikely to match her firepower, but that might not help her since her intention was to recover the prisoner alive and return him to Amalthea, not vaporize him, his ship, and his crew. She would have to rely on her skills as a negotiator to convince him that she meant business and he had no alternative but to surrender.

  Erin was glad of her enforced visit to Lysithea; those skills would stand her in good stead now. She just wished her head didn’t ache like a bitch. She could barely think straight. For want of something more useful to do to pass the time until they caught up with Ramone, she headed for her bunk and closed her eyes.

  * * *

  “Scanners are picking up a signal.”

  “What?” Erin struggled to a sit, shoved her hair from her eyes, and peered at Jacob framed in the door to her cabin. “What sort of signal?”

  “Not Ymirian by the looks of it, but the craft is in the right location and on the heading we calculated. It could be him.”

  “It must be him,” corrected Erin as she rolled from the bunk. “How far ahead of us?”

  “Fifty-seven thousand kilometers. At our present velocity we should be within firing range in less than two hours.”

  “Don’t fire until we know who or what they are.” She was certain in her own mind, but it never hurt to check. “I’ll be on the control deck in a few minutes.”

  * * *

  “Is that Valasian?” Erin peered at the on-screen display. The image of the vessel, which was now less than two thousand kilometers ahead, was distorted and unclear. “Can you get a better lock on the image, Katya? Maybe clean it up a bit?”

  The crew member shook her head. “There’s some sort of blocking device operating. It’s preventing us from making a reliable identification. I’ve been trying to clean it up, but...”

  “How many crew are on board and what species?” Erin laid her palm on the clear glass sensor that connected her to her ship. By utilizing this link she could enable faster synaptic transfer of data, which would release more of the ship’s processing power to help solve their current problem. She glanced over at Katya. “Any better?”

  “A little. I’d say not Valasian, but they’re trying to disguise themselves.”

  “If Ramone thinks we’re about to fall for that, he’s bloody mistaken. Set up a hail, Yves.”

  The other crewman was stationed at the communications panel and hit several commands on his data display. “Not responding, Monitor.”

  “Try again, activate translators, all known languages.”

  “Still nothing.”

  “Okay, they may not want to talk, but can they hear us?”

  “I should think so. We’re well within range and there’s nothing to indicate that their communications systems are down.”

  “Transmit this then.” Erin addressed her words to the distorted image on the screen. “This is Monitor Stein of the Amalthea II penal facility. Xyker Ramone, you are under arrest and required to surrender your ship at once. You will also relinquish command of your crew, and lay down any weaponry you may hold. Failure to comply will result in imminent attack, and we will use all proportionate force at our disposal to ensure your submission. Respond, please.”

  The silence from the communications panel was deafening. Erin repeated her instructions. Still the alien craft did not reply.

  “Ramone, I must caution you against resistance. Our weapons outclass yours. You cannot win.”

  She waited a full minute before turning to Jacob. “Arm solar torpedoes, seventeen percent of full power, and target their propulsion system.”

  The deputy responded with a curt nod and readied the weapons.

  “Last chance, Ramone. We have torpedoes locked on to your coordinates. You will surrender your vessel. Now.”

  Chapter Two

  Fuck! Xyker Ramone muttered the expletive under his breath. Did that bloody female never give up?

  “Zeke, how many laser cannons do we have?” He turned to his second in command. “More to the point, do we have anything that could disable a Skyhawk?”

  “Not a chance, sir. Their commander is right when she says she outguns us.”

  “She won’t use her weapons. Everything Monitor Stein has pointing at us is too powerful, what her people on Earth would call taking a sledgehammer to crack a nut.”

  “She’s ordered her crew to target propulsion, not our main systems. Not life support.”

  Xyker waved his hand in dismissal. “And with our emulation cloaking making us look more Valasian than anything else, how is she supposed to know where—? Fuck!”

  Xyker grabbed for the rail that ran the length of the command deck as an explosion rocked his freighter. “Shit, what was that? Damage report!”

  Zeke was quick to answer. “Solar torpedo. Direct hit to port hull, outer casing breached.”

  “Can we repair it?”

  “Given time, but we’re fast losing structural integrity. We’ll break up in less than three minutes.”

  Xyker took a few moments to consider his options then executed a vessel-wide hail. “All crew to command deck. Transport as much of our cargo here as possible without impeding departure. We’re abandoning ship.”

  “Shall I transmit our surrender, sir?”

  Xyker gritted his teeth. He’d misjudged the Earth female, and not for the first time. “Yes,” he ground out. “I’ll... shit, what the fuck is she doing here?” He watched in amazement as his adversary materialized before his eyes, right in the middle of his fucking bridge.

  His second-in-command gawped at the intruder but Xyker was quick to recover his composure. He affected a casual but polite demeanor. “Monitor Stein. So, we meet again. I confess I had hoped we would not.”

  “You are under arrest. Surrender your weapons.” The diminutive figure barked out orders, brandishing a photonic pistol that Xyker thought would have barely passed muster as a toy for the young on his own planet. He’d been right, her effective firepower was all big stuff. She had no weapons suitable for close combat, and seemingly lacked the battle-sense to realize that. His own laser cannon would annihilate her at the press of a button, and without demolishing half his ship in the process. Better still, it was capable of operating remotely. He glanced up into the corner of the bridge and watched with satisfaction as the muzzle of the weapon swung around until it was trained on the female who had seen fit to attack his ship and invade his command deck.

  Unfortunately, she was not the greatest of his problems at this precise moment, a fact emphasized by the arrival on the deck of the rest of his crew. Six Ymirian warriors entered at a sprint, ready to transport off the doomed vessel. Eight metallic canisters appeared next to the transporter cubicle. He did a rapid calculation; this amounted to approximately a third of his cargo, but in the time available seemed to be all he could save. He wouldn’t sacrifice lives for it. He had to get his crew off the freighter quickly and as far as Xyker could see, there was only one possible destination.

  Xyker ignored the pretentious female. “Zeke, how many crew aboard the Skyhawk?”

  “Three, sir. Four with this one.”

  Right, he mused. The Ymirians had superior numbers and he was willing to bet the Skyhawk crew possessed weapons no better than that which their leader now brandished in his direction. With the element of surprise, they could probably overpower the search posse from Amalthea II, a place he had absolutely no intention of ever again gracing with his presence.

  “Ready transport systems.” Xyker issued the command though his attention was now totally focused on the female. “I suggest you put that down before you hurt yourself.”


  She tilted her chin at him, belligerence stiffening her stance. “You will surrender, Ramone. You and your crew will be transported to my ship on my command.”

  “I believe we should go now.” Xyker stepped toward the female. “Your clumsy attempt at target practice has created a situation of some urgency.”

  “What are you talking about? Your propulsion is compromised, nothing more. Now I said—”

  His patience evaporated, and with it any further attempt at politeness. “I don’t give a fuck what you said. You fired without knowing what sort of vessel we were. Your torpedo breached our hull and we’re about to disintegrate, so if you don’t mind...?” He made a grab for the pistol, but was a millisecond too late. The weapon discharged, taking out Xyker’s forward viewing platform.

  “Shit. Transport now,” he instructed his crew. “I’ll deal with her.”

  He circled Monitor Stein, conscious that his crew was at least making their escape. They were all well-trained and would be well able to handle anything that awaited them on board the Skyhawk, provided the pilot herself was not present to prevent it. Although Ymirian technology was less developed than that of the Pan-Galactic Alliance, he was well enough informed of their military capability. He had to be, in his line of work. He knew the Skyhawk to be an advanced piece of hardware, synchronized to the precise markers of its pilot, who he had to assume was standing right in front of him. Her absence would weaken the Skyhawk’s capabilities, yet more evidence of Stein’s inexperience in a battle situation. She should have remained on board her craft and sent someone else to confront him.

  Still, he wasn’t complaining. And despite his opening remark to her, she really was a pleasure to look at. He’d always considered the monitor of Amalthea II an exceptionally lovely woman, though of course such details were of little relevance. She was his jailer, his enemy, and right now she stood between him and the safety to be found aboard her ship.

  “One minute before disintegration, sir.” Zeke spoke from behind him.

  “Noted. Now leave.” Xyker dropped into a semi-crouch, readying himself to launch at the transporter pad the moment he knew the rest were clear. He glanced up at the laser cannon trained on his adversary. He could transmit the command to take her out, then... shit!

  Xyker watched in astonishment as Stein dropped her pistol, then fell to her knees clutching her head. His reflexes were quick enough. He dived for the weapon and sent it hurtling harmlessly across the deck, then he sprinted for the transport pad.

  “Come on. We only have a few seconds left.”

  The female didn’t move. She appeared paralyzed, transfixed somehow. Her lovely features contorted in pain, then she collapsed to the floor.

  Xyker didn’t pause to think, though he did allow himself a few more expletives as he charged back across the command deck to scoop her up. He covered the distance back to the transporter at a gallop, issued the command to transport two, and held his breath.

  He materialized on the Skyhawk control deck in the middle of pandemonium. Monitor Stein’s crew had put up spirited resistance by the looks of it, but their efforts had been futile without their pilot to optimize the ship’s own defensive capabilities. No sonic wave, capable of disabling most nonhuman species, had been activated. Neither had they used their close-range photo-ballistic rifles, which he had to assume remained safely stowed in their armory. His own crew was successfully subduing the opposition and by the time Xyker strode to the pilot’s seat, his unconscious adversary still in his arms, the three humans were disarmed and surrounded by Ymirian warriors.

  He placed Monitor Stein in the copilot’s seat then straightened to survey the situation. “Report, Zeke.”

  “All secure, sir. Engines idling and unresponsive to new commands.”

  “The Skyhawk requires the unique signature of its assigned pilot to make significant adjustments. Unfortunately, she’s in no shape to cooperate right now.”

  “You bastard!” The shout came from one of the human prisoners, a man now struggling to escape his captors. “What have you done to her?”

  Xyker ignored the furious interruption and crouched before the copilot’s seat. He cupped the female’s chin in his palm and gently lifted her head. “Can you hear me? Monitor Stein?”

  There was no response.

  “Monitor Stein?” He tapped her cheek lightly and was rewarded by a brief flickering of her eyelids.

  Xyker raked his gaze over the others on the deck until his eyes fell on the one he needed. “Ariann, get over here.”

  The only female among the Ymirian crew hurried to his side. Ariann was their medic, and damned good. Xyker stepped back to allow her the space to work. He offered what he knew by way of background. “She collapsed while we were still on the freighter. No idea why, she just held her head, looked to be in pain, then went down.”

  “Okay.” The medic peeled back one of Stein’s eyelids, then released it. She repeated the action on the other eye then reached into her pocket and produced a compact body scanning device to check vital signs. “No concussion. Heart and breathing within normal human parameters. Pain receptors firing haphazardly.” She turned to look up at her commander. “I can bring her round, but she’ll be in a lot of discomfort. A headache, you say?”

  “Looked like it. Anything you can do for that?”

  “Depends what analgesia they have on board. Ymirian medication would work, probably, but could be risky until I have the chance to properly appraise her systems and tolerance levels.”

  “We have painkillers.” Again, the strident tones from across the deck. “In our sick bay. Let me go and I’ll show you.”

  Xyker turned to regard the human. “Name and rank?”

  “Jacob Morrell, Deputy Monitor, Amalthea II. Until Erin is fit to take command again, I’m senior officer here.”

  “Well, Deputy Monitor Morrell, I think you’ll find that I’m senior officer now. But we’ll take you up on your offer of the medication. Ensigns Hak and Djulis will accompany you.”

  Morrell was permitted to leave the group of humans now huddled together under guard and two Ymirian crewmen took up positions on either side of him. “Don’t be long, Deputy Monitor, and don’t give my men any cause to kill you. I suspect your pilot will need that medication quickly.” He turned his attention back to the medic. “Start reviving her. We need to plot a new course and get underway before reinforcements arrive.”

  Ariann bent to her task again, this time using a small epidermic device to introduce a mild stimulant into Monitor Stein’s arm. Or should that be Erin? That was what her second in command had called her. Xyker quirked his lip. The name suited her, short and to the point.

  “What...? Who...?” The human female opened her eyes, just a crack at first, then wide as realization of her situation hit her. “How did you get onto my ship?” She shook off Ariann’s restraining hand and tried to stand, only to stagger backwards as her legs seemed to give way. She put a hand to her forehead and grimaced.

  “I suggest you remain seated, Monitor Stein. We’ll have some pain relief for you soon. Meanwhile, if I could trouble you to apply your palm to the signature plate...?”

  “And let you have control of my ship? Go fuck yourself, Ramone.”

  Xyker might have smiled at this show of completely futile belligerence but he really didn’t have the time. Instead he hardened his expression and moved to stand behind the copilot’s seat. Bending, he allowed his breath to feather across her cheek before murmuring into her ear. “You will cooperate, Monitor Stein, unless you prefer me to jettison your crew out into space, one at a time.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she gasped, then moaned as a sharp turn of her head appeared to cause another wave of pain.

  “Try me,” replied Xyker, his tone little more than a whisper now.

  The infernal female stared straight ahead. Xyker considered his options. He could, obviously, place her hand on the sensor by force, but he also required her to key in various command codes so that wasn’
t a practical solution. He could wait her out, but with every second that passed the chances of further confrontation grew. Other ships would be in pursuit and he couldn’t fight them all off with just seven men and a Skyhawk, however well-armed the ship might be.

  Further, he had ten tons of siarnaq crystals, nowhere near as good a haul as he’d started with but worth protecting all the same. He needed to get the cargo back to Ymir, and this stubborn female was in his way. Xyker made up his mind.

  “Ensign Qeel, you may start with the female.”

  One of his men stepped toward the two captive human crew members and took the woman by the arm. Xyker managed to ignore her expression of horror as the Ymirian pulled her toward the door where Jacob and his escort had exited just a minute before.

  “Take her to the cargo hold and load her into a refuse pod. When you’ve finished with her, you can come back for the other one.”

  The pair disappeared from view. Monitor Stein—Erin—turned a shocked, tearstained face toward him. “You’re bluffing.”

  Xyker folded his arms and leaned against the side of the pilot’s seat. “Am I?”

  A minute passed, then another. There was silence on the command deck apart from the ragged breathing of Monitor Stein. Xyker glanced at the door when it swished open to admit Deputy Monitor Morrell, his escort of two, and Ensign Qeel. The female crew member was not with them.

  “No!” Erin covered her face in her hands and wept openly now. The features of the remaining humans were ashen as Xyker’s gaze fell upon him.

  Jacob Morrell gazed about the deck, bewildered. “What’s happened? Where’s Katya?”

  It was the other human who provided the response. “These bastards murdered her. I guess I’m next, then you.”

  “It could happen that way,” agreed Xyker. “That’s entirely up to your pilot here. So, Monitor Stein? Are you ready to cooperate now?”

  The doomed human glared at Xyker. “Don’t do it, Erin. Byrom will be here soon, and—”