Dekkir: An Alien SciFi Romance (Galaxy Alien Warriors #1)

by Lara LaRue

  “That does sound like what Earth is facing. It’s one of the reasons we came here looking for a trade agreement. We’re running out of critical resources. The moon, Mars, and the asteroid belt . . . they’re all mined out. When I left, they were estimating pollution levels would surpass what atmosphere scrubbers can handle within two decades.” She shivered, and I rubbed her back soothingly.

  “If that is so, would it not be in their best interests to avoid all conflict with us?” I frowned. So many decisions made by her superiors at Earth Command seemed to be tactically nonsensical.

  “You would think so. But it depends. I don’t know if it’s Earth Command or someone in his or her hierarchy acting on their own. I don’t know their motives or their plans. That’s why Dr. Stirling—Tabirus—may be our only hope of getting answers.”

  I nodded, rubbing her back still. She was finally starting to relax again. “You trust him, and so does Neyilla. I shall try to as well. But I hope we hear good news from him soon.”

  “Me, too.” Her brows drew together. “How did Lyra go from the kind of environmental mess Earth is currently into this? If Earth could do the same . . .”

  “Neyilla will be better at explaining the science behind it than I would. Let us ask once your lesson is done.”

  We managed to get some rest, and I woke to rain pattering on the edges of the round windows. A Glow Beetle the size of my fist sat on the edge of one of them, drinking rainwater with its proboscis while it shed yellow-green light around it. I watched it rest there until the rain thinned out, and it lifted off heavily to fly out of sight. Glow Beetles were peaceful creatures; their presence was considered a blessing. Turning my gaze back to my new mate, I hoped that would be true here as well.

  I let Grace sleep while I washed and dressed, leaving off the armor in favor of a soft under-tunic and drawstring leggings. I grinned a little. The armor wasn’t needed in this place, which was guarded by Neyilla’s three enormous trained Grogs and her own powers. Besides . . . it got awfully inconvenient to take off when things between my mate and me heated up. Which, to my delight, was nearly every waking moment Grace and I were alone.

  We broke our fast in the communal dining hall on fruit, a loaf of bread, and pale slabs of river eel. The caravan workers who had brought us to Neyilla’s hostel chattered and laughed at the tables around us; the caravan master, my friend and former lover Elorie, exchanged waves with me before going back to chatting up the bronze-haired guard she had designs on lately. They all looked restless, bored; I heard a few talking about their eagerness to get back to traveling. Fortunately, they would not be waiting long.

  Tomorrow, my father, the High Chieftain Dorin, would undergo a last few physical tests and return with the caravan to Highfort to resume his duties. He still refused to eat with us, as his illness had left him with a touchy stomach, and he would not humiliate himself by losing his meal in front of others. I, for one, was just glad he was alive, but aside from saying that to him once, I could not express it. My father was not exactly demonstrative.

  Grace tasted a little of everything, a bit gingerly. Some of our food had turned out to be far too spicy for her. I just stopped and watched her sometimes, forgetting my own food to do so, a little smile playing on my lips.

  She had finally tried the eel and was happily munching on a bite of it when she blinked and her eyes widened. She set her fork down and turned to look at me. “It’s Tabirus. He’s found something.”

  I set down my fork as well. “What is it?”

  She stared off into space. “He was reading Commander Wickman’s mind . . . and he found something. He says it’s nothing good.”

  I reached over and folded her tiny hand in my own, feeling her trembling as she sat there receiving the message. Her face went ashen, horror creeping across her features.

  “The commander . . . drinks. A lot. Tabirus could never read his mind when he was drunk. He just caught him sober for a teleconference with Earth Command headquarters and ‘listened in.’” A long pause, and then she pressed her free hand over her mouth, and her trembling intensified. A glaze of tears brightened her eyes. “Oh God.”

  “Grace, speak to me. I cannot help you if I do not know what is going on.” I had been war chief of this world for many decades. I was a man of action. If there was one feeling I despised the most out of all of them, it was helplessness.

  Her eyes held misery and horror as she looked up at me. “We need to talk to Neyilla and your father right away. Earth Command has ordered them to look for an excuse to go to war with Lyra and take it over. They want to strip-mine this world. Take everything. By any amount of force that’s necessary.”

  CHAPTER 11 / GRACE

  I sat numbly in my seat in Neyilla’s practice room, staring off into space. My only tie to reality right now was Dekkir, who kept gently rubbing my back as I struggled against a breakdown. I have been used. This entire time, Earth Command was using me. Not just me, but everyone at the base. We’re all sacrifices to greed and political expediency.

  Across from me, Neyilla sat placid in her own seat, as meanwhile, her most recent patient, High Chieftain Dorin, paced the floor between us. The two were a study in contrasts. The healer, slender to the point of emaciation and with her pale hair caught up in elaborate braids, watched the scene before her while showing little emotion. Her questions, when they came, were calm and pointed. Draped neck to foot in embroidered blue robes, she only moved now and again to reach out, placating, to her patient, who grew more and more agitated as time went on. It was not good for his health, not so soon after being poisoned.

  Dorin, nearly as big and broad as his son, olive-skinned and sporting curly, bronze-colored hair and beard, stalked back and forth like a caged tiger. Every once in a while, his golden eyes would fix on me, a mix of anger and suspicion riding in them. I always stared back as calmly as I could. If he felt like making me his personal scapegoat in this matter, I was pretty much ready to tell him to go to hell. My life was falling apart around me, and the last thing I needed was some egotistical alien nobleman trying to tell me I was the one to blame in this situation.

  “You say they gave you no idea at all that this was their aim.” His voice was hard and angry, and I felt Dekkir tense beside me. He had already started arguing with his father twice, and I was glad he was there to step in on my behalf. “What else did Tabirus say?”

  “He said their plan is to manufacture a conflict the people of Earth will accept as sufficient excuse to take over this planet. They’ve been planning it for years, but they did not even bring it to the commander’s attention until recently. Everyone on that base has been operating under the same lie. We all believed what Command’s leaders wanted was a treaty and trade agreements.” I wiped my eyes. I had managed to keep my voice even, at least.

  He turned and stared at me hard, standing still for a few moments. I could feel his rage and worry pecking at me from the outside, like small, sharp-beaked birds. “And if we took you hostage, would they still feel comfortable in attacking?”

  “Excuse me? Are you out of your mind?” I was getting thoroughly sick of his posturing. He might be important in this world, but right now, I didn’t care what happened to me. “I’ve technically been your hostage for over a week and a half. You may or may not have noticed that no one has come to rescue me.” He had no need to know Tabirus was covering for me. It didn’t change the truth of what I said next. “My death would be considered an acceptable loss. I’m absolutely certain of it.”

  He blinked at me in shock, and Dekkir quickly spoke up. “Father, may I remind you of the risks Grace has already faced in order to thwart those who sought your life?”

  His anger faded slightly from both his manner and his face. “That, at least, is true. But how do we know where your loyalties lie?”

  I glared at him, tears running down my face. “I just got betrayed by Earth Command. I just found out they have decided to use me as a pawn in their long game of screwing up everything I
had intended to come here to do. Do you really think, even though my family and people are back on Earth, that I could possibly have any loyalty left to my former employers?” I knew it to be true even more once I said it aloud. After this, any respect or consideration I showed to Earth Command would be an act. As theirs had been to me.

  Dorin went quiet for the moment. Neyilla spoke up. “I understand your grief at this betrayal. But I do not understand. Why would they have you gathering information on us if they had no intention of releasing it to the general public?”

  “They did release them to the general public, just as propaganda. According to Tabirus, they took all of my reports, and all the reports he did before me, and edited them so heavily they became pretty much fiction. They left our names on them and sent them back to Earth. Their aim was basically to make your people seem like uncooperative savages who would have to be forced to give us the resources we need to survive.”

  The healer steepled her fingers. “And don’t you think anyone back on Earth would raise any sort of protest if they killed you in the course of their actions?”

  My face crumpled and fresh tears filled my eyes. I had to stay silent for a minute while I pulled myself back together.

  Dekkir spoke up for me. “It seems likely that her family, which is important amongst the warriors of Earth, would lodge some sort of protest. We have not yet determined how it is that Command intends to get around this complication.”

  My heart ached. I tried to imagine Mom, Dad, and my brothers getting the news that there was war with Lyra and that I was trapped planet-side with no possibility of rescue. They would all be furious. They would definitely protest. They would even go to the press if they felt they had to, oaths of loyalty or no. But . . . it wouldn’t change anything. Earth Command had too much power to challenge directly unless there was truly widespread outrage. My one death would not be enough to stir that.

  “So,” Neyilla said in that same calm voice, “what can best be done about this?”

  Dorin glared at me again. “If you weren’t my son’s mate, I would exile you from this world immediately. I know you are conflicted. You cannot hide it from me. You may despise those who give the orders, but that is still your world, and this is not. I also know your people are desperate. You must sympathize with them at least somewhat. Your world is dying.”

  I managed to focus enough to answer. “Yes, and even from a purely logical standpoint, no one in their right mind would support war with your world. We barely have any resources left. The idea we should waste them all in a gamble to take over this planet is ridiculous. We needed this alliance. We can’t afford to have Lyra as our enemy. I don’t understand how Earth Command came to the decision to manufacture a conflict.”

  Dekkir turned to me, his brow furrowing. “What would happen if the general public of Earth learned of Command’s scheme?”

  “It would create scandal. Those currently in power would find themselves challenged. It would create a period of extreme upheaval if enough people reacted violently enough. And I suspect they would. I don’t know whose bright idea it was to do this, but I don’t think my people in general would be in agreement with the move if they understood the entire war is being manufactured to take advantage of Lyra’s resources.”

  Dorin frowned thoughtfully. “And if they determined your life was put at risk in order to further their plans, would that not cause even more scandal?”

  “It would if the information got past Command censors and reached Earth.” I felt a touch of hope. It almost sounded like Dorin was slowly forming a plan.

  “Can Tabirus get that information past the censors?”

  “I could find out.”

  He rubbed his face. Then he turned to his son. “I will return to my duties tomorrow. In the meantime, I strongly suggest you find out everything you can from your new mate about Earth’s military, the weapons, their technology, and their tactics. We need to know what may be coming at us.”

  Dekkir bowed his head. “It will be done.”

  Dorin glared at me one last time and then turned on his heel and strode out. I stared after him, shaking my head. I hadn’t exactly expected him to be grateful after I had to defy my own people to make sure he had a cure for the poison someone in Command sent. But it would have been nice if he’d at least acknowledged I was more or less trustworthy after that. Instead, since I was human, I remained persona non grata.

  Once he was gone, my shoulders sagged and I dropped my face into my hands. Dekkir slipped an arm around me, and I just cried quietly for a little while in his embrace. Finally, I gulped air and mumbled past my hands, “There’s nothing I can do. I can’t fix this. I have no idea where to begin.”

  “Let us begin, then, with what my father requested.” My mate’s tone was gentle but pointed.

  I hesitated. If my parents ever found out I had given up crucial military information about Command to an extraterrestrial power, they probably would disown me. But now . . . it was the only thing I could do to prevent what could play out as a planet-wide atrocity. “I’ll tell you everything.”

  It took me roughly half an hour to go into all the details I thought could possibly be relevant. The dropships, the drones, the fuel they used, and the weapons they tended to carry. How many soldiers the base housed. The possibility of a bombing. The possibility of another assassination attempt. Every bit of it made me sick to talk about, but I kept on until it was all done.

  As I finished, Dekkir stared at me, and Neyilla sighed. “Our fearless leader seems to have forgotten his manners, but I assure you he will be grateful for the information. As for me, I am more concerned about you. Perhaps it is time to change the subject. I know you came in here with questions for me.”

  I swallowed and looked up at her, nodding gratefully—then forced myself to move on. “I’ve started having visions about how Lyra used to be. It reminded me a lot of Earth now, although from the airship designs, it looks as if your technology actually advanced past ours.”

  “Very likely. At the time of the Great Transition, we had mastered space-fold technology and had traveled to several other star systems. We actually have a few colonies of Lyrans living on other worlds. We have not been in contact with them in over two thousand years.”

  I leaned on Dekkir, who was slowly relaxing. “But why would your people give up all that technology?”

  “Technological dependence almost ended us. The pollution it created nearly destroyed our world. The constant demand for resources caused us to mine out our planet, along with our moons. As resources became scarce, we struggled to discover a form of technology that was ‘clean’ enough to be sustainable. But nothing we came up with allowed us to truly live in harmony with our world. Especially at our population levels.”

  Wait. “So your solution to your problem was to give up technology?”

  “In part. The decision was made to alter both the remaining life on the planet and our own gene sequences in order to adapt to a new way of living. Back then, we were not significantly larger or stronger than humans, and neither were we psychically active. We created the Golden Strain during that time. We developed plant life and bacteria capable of metabolizing the pollution and restoring the ecosystem. We also changed our level of fertility so we would not reproduce as quickly. Because of this, our population eventually dwindled to sustainable levels.”

  “I wonder if something like that would work on Earth.” I kissed Dekkir on the cheek and then got up to go and look out the window. It was raining again, and I could see fat droplets bouncing their way down the leaves of the tree that surrounded us. “If this world was once a wasteland like Earth has become, I would have never been able to tell.”

  “Ironically, records of the biotechnology we used to accomplish these things do still exist. If Earth Command was not attempting to destroy us, we could supply this information and assist you in saving your own world.” She offered a sad little smile, seeming almost apologetic.

  “What if I s
ent that idea along to the doctor—I mean, Tabirus?”

  “He is quite aware of the origins of our world. However, it may not have occurred to him to use this information as a bargaining chip among the humans. By all means, let him know.” She came up behind me and laid a long-fingered hand on my shoulder. “You are too distraught now for further training, and this is understandable. I’m going to suggest you take some time away with your mate and leave everything else behind for a while. We have a whole month together until your training is completed. By then, perhaps we will have come up with some way of fixing this . . . situation as well.”

  I nodded, wiping my eyes. She stepped away, and a moment later, Dekkir moved up beside me. “Come, let’s go into the Meditation Temple.”

  I followed him mutely up the spiral staircase that ran the height of the tree, not really seeing anything around me. I wished I could close my eyes, open them again, and—like waking from a bad dream—all of this would dissolve. I just wanted to go back to the job I had when I first came here. I was supposed to be a cultural attaché. I was supposed to be studying Lyran customs and their world. Instead, here I was caught in the middle of not only an escalating conflict, but also a plot to plunge both our worlds into war.

  I still hadn’t heard from Tabirus. I had known him to be very troubled by what he had learned, and I imagined he was spending all of his time right now following up on it. I just wished he would check in. He was the only friendly voice from Earth I had left.

  Dekkir led me to the very top of the tree, above the tree line. We came up into a dome-shaped room, its entire outer wall carefully shaped from branches that formed a web-like pattern as they arched above us. Set in the gaps between branches, panels of some kind of plastic material—perhaps thickened, translucent cellulose, but in a dozen different colors—let in the dim, storm-filtered sunlight, splashing the polished wood floor in rainbow fragments. Several large cushions were scattered across the floor, dyed the same colors as the skylight panels. It was so beautiful it shocked me partway out of my dark mood, and I looked around with quiet amazement.