by T. J. Quinn
ISBN
Foreword
In the beginning of earth’s history, there were only humans. Those humans created stories of fantastical creatures and faraway places. There were tales about giants that came out of nowhere, plaguing mankind, as they tore apart entire villages. The mythical creatures were said to be twenty feet tall and subsisted on a steady diet of human flesh. The human world exhaled a collective sigh of relief when the beasts were banished to a faraway place in the clouds.
Other ancient stories told of strange looking demons with solid black eyes. They fed off humans as well. However, these creatures did not feed on flesh. Instead, they attached themselves to the human soul and thrived on their lust and aggression. God saw his creation losing themselves to the darkest of desires, and sent his angels to save them. His archangel Lucifer would have none of that, for he was the foremost soul feeder. Michael led the angels of God. They fought Lucifer and his legion of demons. The battle was fierce but in the end, the immortals and their mortal followers were cast into in the darkest pits of hell. It is said that they burn endlessly for their crimes against humanity, forced to endure never ending pain in place of the never ending pleasure of feeding on God’s chosen ones. It was enough to make one wonder if God had a sense of humor. If so it was a dark one.
Perhaps the most disturbing were the stories of the Vampiere. They live in the shadows unseen by man until it is too late. It is said, no human can resist being seduced by a vampire, nor can any vampire resist the temptation of a human. The creatures of the night are known for stealing blood and slaking their lust upon their human host. They alone, of all the creatures of the verse, are cursed by God to feed only on human blood. God created their thirst to be virtually insatiable. No human was safe as long as the Vampiere walked free, yet God so loved the Vampiere that he refused to choose sides. The sons of man grew tired of hiding in fear and felt certain that God had abandoned them. Gathering together, they hunted the Vampiere to the four corners of the earth. Each was killed by driving a wooden stake through its heart. Instead of ensuring their peace of mind, mankind continued to live in fear of the Vampiere. For how could they be assured their ancestors discovered the foul hiding places of every last vampire? It is the reason, to the day, humans are afraid of the dark.
The tales of mankind were crafted to terrify and entertain. Humans congratulated themselves on their intelligence and creativity, for their stories were both thrilling and fearsome.
In the year 2032, the alien wars began, and humans came face to face with their monsters of old. Humans quickly learned that their ancient lore was nothing more than their ancient ancestors a skewed accounting of what their ancestors had experienced firsthand. The stories were a skewed attempt to capture the terror of contact with forces beyond their reckoning and meant to serve a warning to future generations. Thus, the tales of the aliens who visited Earth during ancient times became distorted as they were handed down from one generation to another.
During Indian summer in the year 2032, the first shuttle craft to land on Earth. It carried slaves from an alien ship waiting in earth’s orbit. The mother ship, cloaked and silent, waiting for the remainder of the attack fleet remained unnoticed by mankind. Little did humans know, but the ship was filled with all the creatures born of man’s greatest fears. Even more terrifying was the fact that a few ragtag escaped slaves represented mankind’s only defense against that deadly enemy.
Chapter 1
Making Ready
~ Tham ~
Music Mix
Tham leashed his anger, as the large Taron guard nudged him along with a thump to the back with his battle blaster. The impact sent a shock of pain radiating from the impact sight. Such behavior was typical of the brutality slaves were forced to endure from their Taron masters.
Barely lifting up his head as they walked by, Tham made sure to catch Jensen’s eye. The older human turned out to be a gift from the gods when it came to ensuring the safety of his little one. Being taken by an overlord was risky business. They might want you to clean a waste removal tube, or they might need fresh meat for their horrible, scaly Yucak. Surviving was foremost in his mind since he had a little on relying on him.
Jensen nodded his understanding to look out for her. Therefore, Tham went without a fuss. Being a slave meant he had no choice but to comply. Resistance was both futile and dangerous. Disobedience was dealt with quite harshly by the overlords. Slaves were all too aware of how expendable they were aboard the Taron ships.
Tham had been born and raised aboard a Taron vessel, so this was the only life he’d ever known. His grandmother had survived for many years. Long enough to raise him and nurture whatever little cunning and charm he’d been born with. At her knee, he’d learned the concept of freedom, for she had entertained him with tales of living freely on a real planet. The idea of feeling the ground beneath his feet and breathing air that wasn’t purified thousands of times had always thrilled and intrigued him.
He’d dreamed of one day enjoying freedom. It was now a dream he also wished for his small daughter. In the tradition of his people, he’d already started teaching her about the concepts of freedom. Jensen helped her understand when his rough voice failed him. His little one didn’t care what he sounded like, only that he spoke to her. For this he was grateful. Being rejected by the only person in the verse who mattered to him would have been worse than a slow painful death.
Stretching his spine in an effort to tamp down his frustration, Tham wondered how it was that beings with the language skills of a child managed to rampage their way through the galaxy conquering worlds. Hell’s fire, only their elite soldiers, even spoke complete sentences.
While the many of the species they subdued created and used a wide variety of contemporary languages. Some few, like his own, were fluent in multiple languages and created majestic pieces of art and musical compositions. Though he hadn’t been exposed to such, the others spoke fondly of their accomplishments.
Stopping short, the overlord shoved him towards an access tunnel. Dracon staggered out of another corridor with an overlord at his back. The vampire prime took it all in stride, giving him a quick jerk of his chin in acknowledgment. Tham suppressed a smile when his overlord nudged him along with a blaster blow to the back. The big man intentionally slowed his steps, turning to look the big blue brute in the eye. “Did you need something?”
“Move faster.”
Turning slowly Dracon ambled along at a decelerated pace until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Tham. “Greetings, brother.”
“Greetings, sir.” Watching the overlord peck out a code on his wrist communicator, Tham waited for the door to slide open. Within microns, it slid open but stuck halfway.
The Taron shouted. “You fix and then you fix.” The creature’s huge head wobbled on his shoulders as he spoke, making Tham think it might snap off his skinny neck and roll away one day.
“Your overlord is limited.”
Dracon wasn’t wrong. Sighing, Tham stepped forward and scanned the metal slave bracelet he’d always worn against the engineering panel. Once again, the overlord pecked out a code on his communicator and the access panel slid open.
“You fix, then you fix.”
Gritting his teeth so hard his fangs cut into his lower gum line, Tham nodded. “I understand and comply.” Watching the guard approach, the other Taron, he turned his attention back to the task at hand.”
“So, we are to fix and then fix?”
Finally smiling, Tham replied quietly. “I believe he wishes us to fix the door then fix whatever is wrong with the filtration unit.”
“Fix good.” To hear a vampire prime, emulate the foolish speech patterns of their captors was nothing short of hilarious.
“I did not know you had a sense of humor, sir.”
“The closer we get to Earth, the closer I come to finding it.” Lowering his voice, Dracon asked. “You and yours are ready?”
“Yes, sir. We are seventeen strong
, not counting the little ones.”
“The time is near. Be alert for the signal.”
“We are eager to participate.”
Glancing at the two Taron guards, they watched them wander out into the corridor. They appeared to be attempting to convince two more passersbys to join in some kind of betting game involving multi-sided dice. It wasn’t unusual for them to wander off completely. The low-status guards were easily distracted.
“Their stupidity and inattention are making our job easier.”
“We have never given the Taron reason to be cautious of us, sir.”
“The Taron create nothing of worth. Their civilization exists solely to conquer and steal the wealth and technology of other worlds, using every new piece of recovered technology against the next world they invade. I will not grieve their loss.”
“Me either.” Glancing at the gambling group as they worked, Tham murmured. "I'm anxious because of my little one, but I don’t see another way for her have a normal life.”
“I will admit that it has been easy to lose hope, for it seemed that our suffering was never ending. There has never been the slightest opportunity for us before now. My own daughter is a young woman now. I would not see her waste away in the belly of this metal beast, never knowing a moment of peace. Better to die trying for a better life than miss our only opportunity to escape. You have a human friend. What does he say?”
“Jensen reports his people are cunning and ruthlessness. They fight amongst themselves for sport and profit. He thinks they will relish the opportunity to unite against a common enemy and will embrace those of us who join them in battle.”
Dracon nodded, “I have heard they thrust for the blood of their enemies, and kill with impunity. Surely, with a human at our side, we might have a real chance at victory.
The mere thought of overthrowing their Taron overlords sent a thrill snaking through Tham’s gut. It would mean not only freedom for his little one and himself, but freedom for all of his kind being held aboard the ships. “The Taron are at their weakest now. It has been so long since they felt defeat, they have grown complacent and lazy. Their pilots seem to be deteriorating as well.”
Dracon wiped his hands on a rag he pulled from his worn uniform. “I and many others believe it the substance they use to fold space-time. Exposure to it slowly drives the pilots mad. So far from their home world, it is nearly impossible to obtain replacement pilots. They have a guild that controls that job classification, much to the Taron’s detriment.”
“Their shortsightedness is our gain, I think.”
Slapping Tham on the back, he addressed the one issue Tham didn’t want to talk about. “It is nice to speak with you. Your reluctance to speak grieves the others, and isolates you.”
“Apologies, sir. My voice is rough, and speaking out only draws strange stares and ridicule. I would have my little one grow up thinking her father quiet rather than flawed.”
“These are precarious times, my brother. Keep your little one near and don’t hesitate to ask for help if you find yourself in need.”
“My daughter and I manage to get by with help from Jensen.”
“Stick close to your human friend if you make it to Earth. Our kind has not been welcome there for over a thousand years.”
“Jensen is my little one’s preferred feeding partner and I am his protector. Our bond of friendship is stronger than most.”
“Jensen has proven himself to be a friend to the Vampiere many times over the years. He has our trust and support. If a threat comes that you cannot manage alone, call upon you vampire brothers for support and know that we will come to your aid without question.”
“Thank you, sir. I will remember. If Jensen and I can do anything to further the cause, you have only to ask.”
Finishing their task, the two men who rarely had an opportunity to meet, went their separate ways. Each had their own worries about the coming battle. For his part, Tham was certain freedom from the intergenerational oppression they were subjected to aboard the Taron vessels was something truly worth fighting for. It was also something worth dying for, should it come right down to it.
Tham was luckier than most, for he’d traded protection and food from his daily ration to a woman in exchange for giving him a daughter. Though her mother had eschewed responsibility for her from the day of her birth, Tham didn’t care. The beautiful little girl was his reason for surviving in this hellish environment. Caring for and protecting her was his only care. Thank the gods that Jensen had grown attached his little one because he keeping her fed. It was a deb Tham could never come close to repaying.
Jensen had regaled him with tales of the females from Earth. The few times he’d been with the female, during the time they were trying to conceive, left him longing for more. However, that particular female wanted nothing to do with him after fulfilling her end of the bargain. Tham didn’t blame her. He was large, discolored, scarred and unattractive by anyone’s account. Still, he’d been shocked senseless when Jensen told him there were millions of females on his world and many never managed to find mates because there were significantly fewer men.
Tucked into the far recesses of his mind was an idea that maybe one of those millions might find it in her heart to care for one such as him. The rational side of his brain cautioned him not to waste precious time and energy hoping for such a thing, but his soul called out for a mate. In his mind’s eye, she was sweet, delicate and in need of a strong protector. His imaginary mate looked at him with open acceptance, if not admiration. She wasn’t reluctant to be touched by him and easily slid her hand into his when they walked together. Tham let his mind drift, as he headed back to his section of the ship. Such daydreams were likely all he would ever have, but he enjoyed them none the less.
Do you want to read the rest of Taron Invasion
Alien Convict
Taron Invasion Series
A.J. Daniels
GTQ LLC
Orlando, Florida
Copyright © 2017 by A.J. Daniels
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
GTQ LLC
PO Box 540375
Orlando, FL 32854
www.gtq.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Alien Convict/A.J. Daniels -- 1st Ed.
ISBN
Chapter 1
Loss and Love
~ Andrew ~
Music Mix
Tossing and turning in his sleep, Andrew relieved got pulled into a reoccurring dream. His little five-year-old self, choked on the thick smoke pouring out of the vents running along the top of the walls. Since he’d been born and raised on the Taron ship, he was used to emergencies every now and then. This felt different somehow. Everyone was running around, females were screaming and the normally stoic male’s voices were tinged with panic.
It was getting difficult to breathe. His slight form was getting bounced around as people accidentally knocked into as they rushed past. Carefully searching every face, he found that none of the adults were his family. Getting emotional, he held his hand over his face. Suddenly out of nowhere, a large hand locked down around his wrist. Relief flooded his system as he realized it was his father.
“Run faster. We are under attack.”
Andrew moved as fast as his feet would carry him, thankful that his grandfather never let go of his wrist. Of course he wasn’t called Andrew back then. His name had been Androd.
At one point they heard the familiar sound of Krador squalling. His grandfather quickly pulled him into his arms and began to run for one of the exits. Andrew had been too terrified t
o speak, for fear the Krador would find them.
The moment they staggered out the door, a large human male grabbed them. Before his grandfather could react, the man fired a weapon over their shoulder. Andrew watched in absolute horror as an overlord feel motionless to the ground. The alien shouted in Kalian, “Survivors go to the right. Rescuers are waiting to transport you to safety.”
The strange alien warrior shoved them to the right, just as a huge Krador came crawling out of whole in the ship’s hull. Several of the strange aliens gathered with long rifles, intent on taking the huge creature down. His grandfather staggered to the left, away from the creature. Andrew watched over his shoulder as the aliens shot at the huge creature’s many legs, then began targeting the triple row of eyes running back over its head. Andrew noticed something the strange aliens didn’t. Dozens of tiny Krador young scurrying from the vessel and taking refuge in the nearby woods.
Finally his father stopped running. They approached a huge vehicle of some sort. It was white with large red sign upon it. The people there looked like medics to his young eyes.
His grandfather, asked about other survivors. “We have family aboard the ship. I won’t leave without them.”
An alien male stepped forward wearing green with a funny design on his clothing. He had weapons strapped all over his body.
“You’re going to get your ass on the Red Cross transport right now and get your boy to safety.”
“Who are you?”
“Sergeant Marcus Ross. Now, move your ass.”
Andrew watched a female with long red hair approach. “If you can’t interact with the newcomers any better than that, you need to leave.”
Ross spat on the ground, and stood glaring at her for a moment before speaking. “The last time I checked sergeants’ outranked nurses.”
“The last time I check, I was in charge of this unit and you were assigned to protect us. Unless you want us to file a formal complaint with your chain of command you will step back and allow us to access to our patients.”