The Major's Mission: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel) (Lords of Zanthar Book 2)

by Liza Probz

  Brook flinched at the intensity of his outburst, but understood exactly where he was coming from.

  Suddenly there was a noise in the crew's mess. The sound of metal against metal.

  Ontarii turned and flew back down the corridor the way they'd come.

  "Wait!" Brook ran to catch up, but the major made it out of the corridor and around the corner before she could, leaving him out of her line of sight.

  She rushed into the crew's mess only to find pots and metal containers strewn everywhere. There was no sign of Mike's body nor the major. She rushed down the corridor towards the bridge and made it just in time to see the bridge door close.

  "Fuck," she muttered, then ran to the bridge door and paused.

  Ontarii had only been out of her sight for less than a minute. Was that enough time for him to be waylaid by the Hareema and replaced? She knew it didn't take long.

  "No. Dammit." She pulled out the laser pistol that was strapped to her waist and brought it to life.

  The major was on the other side of this door, on the bridge, the place from which someone or something had just opened the airlock door and spaced the bodies of the two Zantharians.

  He could be replaced by a Hareema agent, or one could have been snatched by one in the mess. That made more sense. The agent had created a diversion to lure them into the mess, had grabbed Ontarii because he'd made it first, and pulled him into the crew corridor. Then the one on the bridge had opened the door and closed it again, making it seem like Ontarii was now on the bridge.

  And she was about to walk into a trap. Wasn't she?

  No more time to debate with yourself. It’s time for decisive action, Captain.

  With a deep breath, Brook pushed the button that opened the door to the bridge.

  Ontarii, or what looked like Ontarii, was bent over the control panel, pushing buttons with a look of frustration on his face.

  “Step away from the controls.” Brook filled her voice with as much backbone as she could muster. She pointed the laser pistol at the major and prayed he’d obey her orders willingly.

  She wasn’t sure if she could take him in a fight. Even with the laser pistol.

  Ontarii didn’t bother to look up. “According to the log, someone activated the airlock from the bridge. That means the Hareema agent could still be in here, right now.”

  “Step away from the controls,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

  “Don’t be foolish.” He tapped the console rapidly. “I’m attempting to modify your scanners to see if they can isolate organic matter from inorganic. I’m not sure if the scans can pick up Hareema DNA, so—”

  “Step away from the controls!” she screamed loudly.

  The time for patience was over. Who knew what that thing could be doing to her ship from the main console? If it was a thing, and not the major.

  Ontarii finally looked up. His eyes widened when he realized she had him at laser-point.

  “What are you doing?” His voice was deadpan.

  “If you don’t step away from those controls in the next five seconds, we’re going to find out if a Zantharian can be killed by an Earth laser beam.”

  Ontarii moved slowly away from the console, his face blank, but his skin a bright yellow that bordered on neon. “Why are you doing this?”

  “We can’t be out of each other’s sight, remember?” She moved toward the console and debated glancing down to see what he’d been doing. It might give her a clue to whether he was who he said he was, but the risk was too great. Given an opportunity, he could clobber her in an instant.

  The major frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Brook sighed. “You ran down the corridor from the airlock and around the corner before I could catch up with you. I can’t even be certain you made it to the bridge.”

  His midnight eyes narrowed. “You think I’m Hareema.”

  She nodded. “I can’t take the risk that you aren’t. I have to behave as if you’ve already been replaced.”

  Too many of my crew are dead, she wanted to add. Dead or missing. I can’t risk letting my guard down or I’ll end up just like them.

  The thought that she couldn’t trust him filled her with a sadness that surprised her. The handsome alien had saved her life in the engine room. He’d supported her when she’d discovered Mike’s body. He was the only person she thought she could trust, now that she knew at least one member of the Earhart crew was a Hareema agent.

  For the first time in her life, Captain Brooklyn had been able to share the burden of the command. A spaceship captain’s word was law in the abyss of space, and orders had to be followed. The responsibility of running a crew during dangerous missions weighed heavy on the captain of the ship. For a moment she’d thought she might have someone with whom to share commonality and experience.

  And it doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome, she thought. And he kisses like a playboy.

  Still, there was too much riding on her being smart and making the right choices. Brook couldn’t trust anyone at this point. Everyone and everything could be the enemy.

  “Captain Brooklyn,” Ontarii said, moving closer.

  She straightened her arms, making sure to accentuate the pistol in her grasp.

  The major paused as a frown marred his perfect features.

  “I’m not Hareema,” he said, his words like ice.

  She stared him down. “Prove it.”

  Chapter 13

  Ontarii stared down the barrel of the laser pistol and barely kept a leash on his anger. How dare the human female pull a weapon on him? Now? After they’d kissed so passionately he thought they might have become one sometime later in the night.

  “I’m not Hareema,” he said, unable to hide his disappointment and rage.

  She stared at him, her beautiful eyes filled with distrust. “Prove it.”

  The major wished he knew how to do so. He considered her words. She was right; they had been separated. It had only been for a few moments, but if he knew his enemy at all, he knew that was more than enough time for a Hareema agent to get the drop on its prey.

  And if he'd been out of her sight, then she'd been out of his.

  "I could ask you the same," he said. "Prove that you're human."

  The female rolled her eyes. "If I were the Hareema, why would I bother confronting you? Wouldn't it make more sense to wait for an opportunity to ambush you and take you by surprise?"

  Ontarii nodded. "Of course. But who knows what ulterior motives an infiltrator could have. Maybe you need to get information out of me. Maybe you hope to memorize my mannerisms so that you can convincingly take my place on the flagship."

  His eyes burned into her. "Or maybe you just want to fuck with me."

  The captain's face tightened at the thought of fucking with her. That’s exactly what he wanted to do before she’d put her weapon in his face.

  "I passed your human test once already."

  "Then you could pass it again."

  His bioelectricity. This was the means to prove his condition. "The Hareema cannot imitate a Zantharian's bioelectric ability. Our scientists postulate that we've evolved in order to combat our ancient enemy. Let me test you, and prove myself at the same time."

  Ontarii extended a hand in her direction, powering up his energy reserves. Captain Brooklyn skittered backwards, her weapon raised high and her finger growing taut on the trigger mechanism.

  "Don't even think about it," she said, her pitch rising to indicate panic.

  "Captain, listen to reason," he said, lowering his voice and trying to project a logical calm. "Look at my body."

  She laughed, a noiseless thing closer to a hiccup and holding no mirth. "Oh, believe me, I have been. As I said before, this isn't the time or the place for that."

  Confused, he shook his head. "I merely meant for you to look at the bioelectric charge held in my skin. I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Is that part of your sick plan?" she asked, her eyes wild.
"Distract me with your masculine wiles as you dismantle my crew and try to take over my ship?"

  She was accusing him of seduction under false pretenses, of not feeling a genuine attraction to her. That's ridiculous.

  "You’re being irrational." He was quickly losing his ability to keep his composure.

  "Don't mock me. Two hours ago, we didn't even know your race existed."

  Her breathing was rapid, her chest jerking up and down. Ontarii's anger met with a sudden concern for her. His yellow skin mottled, patches of blue and red appearing here and there. The thought crossed his mind that he'd never felt so emotionally confused.

  "Maybe you were never a Zantharian to begin with. Just think about it: I've been going on your word all this time, and it’s cost me my entire crew."

  She was right. She had no context by which to judge his actions, since he was literally the first non-terrestrial life form she'd ever encountered. Still, the fact that she distrusted him completely grated on his nerves.

  "Calm down." His anger rose with painful efficiency. He took the tone of command, falling back into it as naturally as combing his tendrils back in the morning. "I realize that you're upset, but it's time to pull yourself together. I'm on your side. I'm not the enemy."

  "And I say again: Prove it." He could tell she didn't appreciate his tone. Captain Brooklyn wasn't one to back down from an adversary. If anything, it only served to make her burn hotter.

  It was a trait he would have admired, if it wasn't currently directed at him.

  Chapter 14

  She'd had enough of the creature before her. At this point, Brook didn't care if he was a Zantharian or a Hareema. He was 100% asshole either way.

  No more time for mistakes. Brook thought hard about what he'd told her, attempting to determine whether he could have been telling the truth at any time.

  He saved your life, she reminded herself. He could have let you drop.

  It was true. And the way his body had reacted against hers. How could something like that be faked?

  That still left the dilemma of Ontarii being replaced by the Hareema while they'd been separated. His being able to convince her with his words that he was what he said he was seemed unlikely.

  She needed hard proof. But how?

  Brook tried to remember everything he'd told her about the Hareema. They were shapeshifters, and such excellent mimics that they could imitate an object or person's molecular structure. The only way the Zantharians had been able to trace them to the Earhart had been the residue they left when they were forced to morph back into their original shapes every six to eight hours.

  That's it!

  An idea formed in Brook's mind, one that would enable her to ensure that the major was a Zantharian, and that he could be trusted.

  She spared a glance at the main console, furiously typing in a command. Looking up suddenly, she saw that Ontarii was several paces closer, his hand outstretched and his energy weapon charged.

  Brook dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding the pulse of energy sent in her direction. She rolled forward, kicking upward to tag the alien in the back of his knees.

  The Zantharian fell forward, and in a second Brook was on his back, the laser held to the base of his skull.

  "Move again and I'll blast you," she growled.

  "You're making a mistake," he grunted back at her. "And when you realize it, I'm going to enjoy punishing you."

  Punishing me? The idea sent a shiver down her spine, but not for the reason she would have expected.

  How dare he speak of punishments when he was the one face-down with a laser pointed at his skull? And why does the promise of punishment excite me?

  She blocked the thought as the bridge door slid open. The four FIDOs, NASA's defense robots, plodded into the room, awaiting her command. Brook barely had time to activate them before Ontarii tried to jump her again.

  "Intruder alert," all four FIDOs chanted in unison. Their shoulder weapons were revealed and aimed at the Zantharian, giving her some semblance of relief.

  "Now, listen carefully," she told him. "You're going to stand up and put your hands in the air. You will not charge your bioelectric weapon. You will follow the FIDOs down the hall and do as I say. If you don't, me and my robot companions will blow a hole in you the size of Earth's moon. Do you get me?"

  The Zantharian's reply was muffled, but she managed to make out a "Yes”.

  Brook got off the major's back but kept her laser pistol aimed at his head. Ontarii slowly stood, brushing his hands across his chest to clear off imaginary dust.

  She risked a look at his face and what she saw there hurt worse than she'd expected.

  Ontarii's features were carved in stone. His eyes were colder than the emptiness of space. He was furious that she'd gotten the drop on him.

  Brook could admit to herself that she was hurt. If it was Ontarii and not a Hareema agent, she'd hoped that a part of him would be proud of the plucky human captain for getting the upper hand. Instead, he was behaving like an elitist who could never accept a human female as an equal, or maybe he was just one pissed off Hareema. There was only one way to find out.

  As they walked along the corridor, Brook wished she could grow eyes in the back of her head. Heck, along the sides too. She swiveled her gaze back and forth, holding her breath for a Hareema ambush at any moment.

  None came.

  They made it down the corridor, through the mess, and into the hall that led to the crew quarters, the infirmary and the airlock.

  They came to a halt outside the airlock door. Brook hit a button to reveal the manual control panel that was a smaller version of the one on the bridge.

  Brook set the controls that limited all operations of the airlock to herself, requiring a personal access code to open or close the airlock doors. Then she pressed the button to open the door.

  The captain motioned with her weapon, gesturing for the Zantharian to get inside.

  He towered over her, staring down at her with a face like a dark nebula, ominous and black.

  "You're making a mistake," he grumbled.

  "I don't think so." She nudged him forward with the barrel of her pistol, almost fully assured that the major was lost somewhere on the ship and she was standing in front of the enemy. “If I am… you can do anything you want to me when we rectify this.”

  Seemed like a good deal that any hot-blooded male wouldn’t be able to pass up. Besides, if he were a Zantharian, then she owed him something for being so harsh toward him. Another kiss seemed like a mutually beneficial payment.

  With one more scathing look, Ontarii stepped into the airlock and turned to face her. “Remember your words, woman. Anything.”

  She gave him a sultry look, being quite an ass herself now. “That’s right. Anything the major wants.”

  She hit the button on the door and opened the window shade to peer inside at him.

  He had turned his back to her, and behind him was the airlock hatch. With a few taps of the console buttons, Brook could open the hatch and let the emptiness of space inside.

  Without environmental controls or gravity, the Zantharian would freeze while he suffocated to death, his body floating out to join his comrades.

  The major turned toward her and seemed to be trying to say something. She gave the command to initiate two-way communication between the inside of the airlock and the corridor.

  "What did you say?" she asked.

  Ontarii frowned at her. "Are you going to space me? Are you that fucking hysterical?"

  The captain flushed with anger. "Hysterical? Do you know the etymology of that word? It's from the Greek word meaning 'womb’. A mental disorder tied almost exclusively to women. Just another way to disenfranchise the female and discount her thoughts and actions."

  The major laughed. He laughed! "You're lecturing me on sexism while threatening to kill me. You humans really are too much."

  "From sexism to racism, huh? I guess I should have expected it. But honestly, I
think you're just upset that a puny human female was able to box you in so efficiently."

  His mouth flattened into a straight line.

  "I'm not even sure you are a human female," he said, his eyes like black flames. "Your reluctance to submit to my test tells me that you have something to hide."

  "I submitted to your test once before. Excuse me if I'm not eager to have a thousand volts shot through me again so soon."

  "A convenient pretext," he shot back. "I'm supposed to take your word that you're not an enemy agent, but you won't take mine. Not quite fair, is it?"

  "I don't care about fair," she fired back. "All I care about is protecting myself and my crew, and completing my mission."

  "Bang up job you're doing so far."

  Brook inhaled as if she'd been slapped. It was a cheap shot. One she hadn't expected from the major.

  "You know what," he said, adopting a cruel smile. "Maybe I do believe you. You are human, because, frankly, you aren't smart enough to be a Hareema agent. You're sloppy. You're weak. And, honestly, you verge on incompetent. Save your promises to give me what I want. I’ll get it as soon as I get off this fucking ship."

  “And what would that be?”

  “Freedom from your madness and a beautiful woman to fuck until I can’t stand.” He turned his back to her and crossed his arms over his massive chest.

  His words ripped into her. Not moments before he’d held her in his arms, comforting her at the loss of her crewmember, and had kissed her more passionately than she ever remembered being kissed before.

  And he'd saved her life.

  But on the bridge he'd been tampering with the controls, then he'd tried to blast her with his energy weapon. It was a complete turnaround from his earlier actions.

  Maybe this isn't the major. Maybe it is. Who the hell knows?

  Ontarii was a prick, but he hadn't been intentionally cruel to her yet. This new asshole stabbed her left and right, his last blow about taking another woman to bed a bit more than she could handle. Perhaps it was only the newest of lust between them that made her want to know him more, but either way, his words had chilled her desire significantly.