Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV)

by JC Andrijeski

  She reached Laksri’s cabin at a full run, half-skidding as she grabbed the door handle to stop her momentum and nearly slammed into the wall.

  Jerking open the door, she slipped inside, gasping hard by then, her hair matted to her neck and forehead with sweat. She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen, even in the oxygen-flooded Nirreth compound, and when she slammed the door shut behind her, she could only stand there, fighting to breathe, even as her eyes took in the space before her.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Richter stood there, in the flesh this time.

  So did Anaze.

  Behind both of them, Laksri watched her with his dark eyes, his tail lashing behind him in what might have been worry...or perhaps anger, Jet couldn’t quite tell for sure. From the way he was looking at her, though, Jet didn’t get the impression his anger was aimed at her.

  Smiling, Richter stepped forward first.

  Before Jet could get her breathing under control, he was clapping his hands. That thin, smug smile lifted his lips as he walked towards her with measured steps, clapping louder. He glanced at Anaze without stopping, his voice a smirk.

  “I told you,” he said, turning to wink at Jet. “Didn’t even flinch, our girl. Took out four of theirs without batting an eye...”

  Jet didn’t hesitate.

  Pulling her weight off the door, she straightened as Richter reached her. He might have been about to clap her on the shoulder, or do any one of his other condescending, obnoxious gestures, but Jet didn’t give him the chance. When he reached for her, she drew her fist back in one swift pull, and punched him in the jaw.

  Staggering back, Richter held up his arm to block her next attempt to hit him.

  Having him on the defensive might have calmed her down, but that smile turned into a genuine-sounding laugh, which only infuriated her more. He laughed harder when she swung at him again, stepping neatly out of the way. Once he was out of range of her feet and hands, he shook his head, smiling even as he continued to rub his jaw.

  “Not a bad cross, kitten,” he said, moving his jaw as if making sure it still worked right. He smiled at her again. “...Stellar work, too. Sorry you don’t feel the same.”

  “What was that?” she snapped, still breathing hard as she glared at him, then at all of them. “What did I just do? Besides kill a bunch of people...for no reason?”

  “People?” Richter raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at Laksri. “You really have the magic touch, Laks. She’s got it bad for you, doesn’t she...? Just what did you do to her tonight?”

  Laksri stepped forward when Jet lunged at Richter again, inserting himself between them and lashing his tail in darting jerks. Anaze bit his lip, staring at his father as if willing him to shut up, but when Laksri turned on Richter, as if maybe he was going to hit him, Anaze lifted a hand to the Nirreth, as if in warning.

  “Laks. Don’t. Not now.”

  For some reason Jet couldn’t understand, Laksri obeyed that warning, stopping in his tracks.

  Turning, Laksri was watching Jet then, his dark eyes holding something that looked almost like a promise to her. She couldn’t get the exact meaning, but she found her shoulders relaxing somewhat...enough that her eyes shifted to Anaze, too. He was watching her warily now, but she couldn’t quite read the different emotions flickering across his expression.

  “What did I just do?” Jet repeated. “What did I just do? Did I kill them?”

  “Yes,” Laksri said, blunt.

  Jet looked at him, and his eyes held a faint apology. Or perhaps guilt.

  “We needed you to do it,” Anaze said, once more inserting himself between Jet and his father. “Laksri had to be seen elsewhere...and they already have a trace on me and my dad...you were the only person left inside the royal compound that could do it. They would never suspect you...not for something like this.”

  “But why?” Jet said, staring around at all three of them. “Why would you want to kill them in the first place? Doesn’t that put Ogli in charge?”

  “No,” Anaze said.

  He looked at Laksri too, and that time his eyes held something like resentment. “No...the queen and her husband are safe. That’s where Laksri was...he was moving them out of the Royal compound, using his contacts to relocate them away from the attack. As a part of that, we’ve just made a deal with them, with the true ruling family...”

  As he spoke, Jet realized suddenly that it had grown quiet overhead.

  Too quiet.

  “The bombing stopped?” she said, looking around at the three of them, her eyes accusing once more. “Why? Is the attack over?”

  “Yes,” Laksri said, his voice quieter than Anaze’s had been. “The deal included the usurpers. We’ve gotten them both to compromise...to work together...”

  “How?” Jet said. “Work together on what?”

  “They’ve agreed to acknowledge Laksri’s claim to the throne,” Anaze said. Pausing, he let his words linger in the air before he added, “They can’t do it right away, and he won’t rule until the current queen dies, but––”

  “What?” Jet said. She stared at Laksri. “I thought he was a terrorist?”

  “All is forgiven, pet,” Richter said, smiling.

  Jet frowned, without taking her eyes off Laksri. “How can that be true?”

  “It is complicated...” Laksri began.

  Richter spoke up before he could go on, rubbing his jaw.

  “The queen agreed to contest the legitimacy of Ogli’s rule, to appease the usurpers.” Richter glanced at Laksri and Anaze, that more smug expression on his face again. “...Since Laksri’s betrayal was never publicized, no one in the general population needs to know. Both sides want assurances, of course, but they’ve agreed to trust us on that, as well. At least for now. The throne alternates sexes as the dominant lawmaker. As Laksri’s a male, that won’t screw up their royal lineage laws. So the queen is happy, since it doesn’t interfere overly with her reign now. And she prefers Laksri to the people who just tried to kill her...” Smiling, Richter added,

  “...You just helped us fulfill our end of the deal with them, too...part of it, anyway. The only person the usurpers want on the throne less than the current queen is Prince Ogli. They were already losing their battle here, so they agreed to compromise...”

  “What’s the other part?” Jet said. Her voice came out hard as glass.

  When Richter only shrugged, Jet looked at Anaze.

  “...What’s the other part, Anaze?” she said.

  Again, it was Richter who answered, his eyes training a faint scrutiny on her face.

  “You’ve just crowned yourself the future queen, kitten,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. At her expression, his lips slid upwards in a broader smile. “You and Laks...you’re going to rule together. How’s that for a bit of payback for all we’ve put you through? Queen Aligara wants it, and the usurpers think it’s symbolic, and probably that they can take it away from us easier with you on the throne...but they agreed to go along. They’ll wait to announce it until after you’ve made more of a reputation for yourself in the Rings. Even the full-bore racists among the Nirreth are more likely to be open to the arrangement with an adult, male Nirreth on the throne as rule-maker, especially if you can gain yourself some celebrity status, pet...”

  Jet could still only stare at him, though.

  For a long moment, not a single thought penetrated the static as she replayed Richter’s words.

  Queen?

  She looked at Anaze, but he only folded his arms, meeting her gaze reluctantly, his expression suddenly looking a lot more tired. Something in what she felt as she and Anaze stared at one another, in the emotion she saw under the tightening of his mouth, reminded her of what she already knew, what she couldn’t help but know, given her experiences with Richter so far.

  This new development, whatever else it might be, was anything but a gift.

  Her eyes shifted to Laksri in the same moment. His expression was harder to re
ad, but she couldn’t miss the worried flicker she saw in his dark eyes, too.

  They’d allied with the human-hating faction of Nirreth.

  They’d cut a deal with them, and with the current queen.

  In the process, they’d put her and Laksri on the throne of a new world.

  The more Jet thought about it, the more she found herself thinking that this couldn’t possibly end well, no matter what came next.

  She also couldn’t help seeing her new throne as nothing more than a death sentence.

  ~ END OF PART II ~

  THE NEW ORDER

  Alien Apocalypse Part III

  Dedicated to Irene

  The most intense survivor I know.

  M’dear, when the zombie apocalypse comes

  You’re still the one I want to have my back.

  ...Bow and arrow optional.

  THE CEREMONY

  Jet stood on a high dais overlooking the steps of the main plaza in Green Zone, Hezeret, fighting not to think about why she was there. She tried instead to focus on the part of her that was just happy to be outside the palace walls.

  Whatever her status with the Royals or the Rings or whatever else these days, they still rarely let her walk around without armed guards. The irony that the improvement in her position only worsened that trapped feeling didn’t elude Jet entirely, but it didn’t exactly help her, either.

  Inhaling deep the smell of flowers and cut grass and the rising odor of cinnamon and baked bread from the cart sitting on the street below the wide stretch of lawn, she tilted her face up towards the sun, wondering if anyone would try to kill her that day.

  So far, no takers, which made it a banner occasion.

  She considered walking down to look at the cart itself, to maybe try and persuade one of the guards to lend her a few coins to buy one of those lizard pastries she’d developed a taste for, with the meat filling and the light-blue glaze on top, when a shadow blocked her view of the sun.

  The height of that shadow forced her to blink, then tilt her eyes upwards, even as she raised a hand to shade her face.

  Instead of Laksri, who she’d expected, Trazen stood there.

  One of his human slaves had wrapped his muscular shoulders in a gold fabric that matched the tents standing behind them on the hill. The fabric also highlighted tiny, gold specks in Trazen’s dark eyes, which Jet had never noticed before. She wondered if he’d had those added artificially.

  She doubted it. Whatever his other faults, it was difficult to imagine Trazen being vain enough to get a surgical procedure purely out of vanity. The guy might be a psychopath, but he didn’t really strike her as one overly obsessed with the opinion of others.

  Maybe it would be better if he was.

  Either way, she kept her thoughts to herself as she stared up at his muscular, dark-skinned torso, noting the position of his tail warily in her peripheral vision.

  “Do you think it’s wise, princess?” the well-dressed Nirreth said.

  He seemed to notice her looking at his size, and perhaps even his eyes and clothes. His lips lifted in a faint Nirreth smile. His English came out in a rolling hiss, his large eyes sliding down her in a decidedly more loaded appraisal.

  “Is it wise?” he repeated slowly, his eyes still lingering. “...To be outdoors, in such a public venue? You are known here. You are known everywhere in the city now. Your face...your hair. Even before this announcement of your new status, you are likely to attract attention from your recent exploits in the Rings.”

  Jet swallowed, but tried to keep her nerves off her face.

  “What do you care?” she muttered. “One less mammal, right, Trazen?”

  His dark eyes took on a more amused cast, even as he stepped closer to her in the pause, moving with such a gliding step that she didn’t have time to compensate until he was right up beside her.

  “Do you think I could have your autograph, Jet Tetsuo?” he asked in a low voice, flicking his tail sideways as his eyes fell on her mouth. “I imagine it will be worth even more in not too long a time. Although I admit, I would probably not hold onto it for too long, mammal...”

  He put a hard emphasis on the last word and Jet glanced up, narrowing her eyes.

  “...Particularly given our new crop of female candidates for the Rings. I imagine the shine will go off your star soon enough, whether you survive being consort to the First Son, or not.”

  He slid sideways, and once more, the sun blinded Jet’s view. She managed to keep at least half of her attention on the course of his tail anyway.

  “Novelties,” he hissed softly. “After all, are only novelties until they are no longer thus.”

  He spoke in Nargili that time, so he must know she was nearly fluent. She’d made an effort to learn it for real after her first Rings match, if only so it wouldn’t become a barrier to her in completing any courses in the future.

  That had been five months ago.

  Jet knew a little more about Trazen by now. As far as she could tell, none of it was good. She hadn’t even managed to discover anything about him that might be exploitable as a weakness. Even so, as the current Ringmaster and controller of the games, Trazen had treated her fairly in the Rings, as far as Richter and Laksri could tell. She’d managed to pass the minimum bar for points, at any rate, in every match since the first one.

  As a result, the Boards classified Jet as undefeated.

  Trazen was right about one thing; that fact alone made Jet a recognizable face.

  She’d garnered mini-celebrity status after that first match anyway, and not only in Hezeret. She’d been invited to visit other Nirreth Green Zones in the intervening months, including one on a different world, in a different solar system than the one where Earth lived. Laksri had refused all of those requests, citing safety requirements for her personal guard...another perk of her new-found fame...or curse, depending on perspective.

  That same personal guard, while getting her out of quasi-prostitution requests from horny relatives and business partners of the Royals, also forced Jet to endure a ridiculous amount of protection in the day-to-day as part of her new status within the televised sport.

  She still didn’t feel safe enough to deliberately provoke Trazen.

  She plastered a polite, if somewhat vacuous smile on her face.

  “I only meant to see more of the town, Ringmaster Trazen,” she said, using the more formal version of Nargili. “...It is pretty here, and I get out so rarely.”

  When Jet saw his tail coil in a sinuous curve behind his legs, darting closer to where she stood, she slid a few steps backwards, in spite of herself. It occurred to her that speaking to him in Nargili perhaps wasn’t particularly wise under the circumstances, but since it was already too late, she focused on maintaining a healthy distance between herself and the stinger she knew he housed in that snake-like appendage.

  Trazen didn’t follow her when she retreated, but Jet saw him notice.

  A thin, Nirreth smile again ghosted his dark lips, but he didn’t take his eyes off her, or off the dress she wore, the first they’d made her wear since Jet had arrived here, what must be over eight months ago now. Jet saw the look in Trazen’s eyes and felt herself tense. She knew what the look was meant to convey. She’d seen the same look in a lot of Nirreth eyes lately, ever since she’d become the newest rock star of the Rings.

  Laksri had warned her more than once not to let Trazen sting her.

  He’d warned her not to be alone with Trazen at all if she could help it, no matter in how public a place. She understood the reason for that warning, and took it seriously when he said it.

  Now, however, right when Jet was in a position to take Laksri’s words even more to heart than usual, she found she’d already disregarded his advice, and let herself be alone with the giant Nirreth, almost without knowing how it happened.

  Still, even she could tell Trazen wasn’t trying to offend her, or even scare her, per se. Rather, he was trying to charm her, a thought somehow mo
re frightening than if he’d been threatening her outright.

  In Nirreth-speak, he was flirting with her.

  When she craned her neck past Trazen’s muscular upper body in an attempt to look inside the gold tent, she could only see darkness beyond the flap opening. Rippling in the low breeze that whispered over the hill, that same opening didn’t remain wide enough for Jet to glimpse any movement through its folds.

  Which meant no one might be anywhere near where she stood.

  Either that, or they could be right there, watching. Or else Trazen’s people might have Laksri in a choke-hold of some kind, in a darker region of that same tent.

  All of this flickered through her mind, right before Jet raised her voice.

  “Laks?” She kept her words bright and cheerful-sounding, but belted them out as loud as she could, despite how close she stood to the tent, and to Trazen. “Laks! Don’t forget to bring me the coins you promised! I want to try some of that bread I smell!”

  Barely a heartbeat passed before Laksri appeared at the door of the flap.

  When she saw him, Jet felt her shoulders abruptly relax.

  Laksri, for his part, didn’t seem to relax at all.

  Taking in the scene before him, with Trazen looming over the much-shorter Jet, his eyes lingered on the smile on Jet’s face, possibly seeing the strain there before he gave a bare glance to Trazen himself, acknowledging the equally athletic-looking Nirreth with a faint smile of his own. Laksri’s broad shoulders relaxed in the same set of seconds, right before his tail coiled back behind his body in a friendly-seeming arc.