Rescued by the Alien Pirate: Science Fiction Alien Romance (Mates of the Kilgari Book 1)

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Rescued by the Alien Pirate: Science Fiction Alien Romance (Mates of the Kilgari Book 1) Page 12

by Celia Kyle

Fingers brushing my lips, I rush away from the handsome Kilgari captain’s presence. This is crazy. I’m no prude, but I’m not one to just swap spit with a man who has so much power over me.

  This is a path I’m not sure I should follow. There had been nothing short of pure electricity the first time his lips brushed my own. It was as if my heart, long dormant, had begun to pump blood through my cold, dead system again. Yes, I shut him down, but I really didn’t want to. My main concern was someone seeing us together, which is another conundrum I must unravel.

  As I wander through the burnished, baroque corridors of the Ancestral Queen, the engine’s comforting throb is not the only sound that greets my ears. Laughter, both male and female, seems to emanate from everywhere. Well, it seems like most of the Frontier women are certainly getting along with our alien hosts, and vice versa.

  The chemistry had been perfect with Solair, no question of that. So why did I flee at the first opportunity? I could have just waited until he inevitably invited me back to his private cabin. A little thrill shoots through me that I’ve already been there, up the forbidden staircase that his men fear to tread upon.

  I can’t sort all of this out on my own. My first thoughts are of Lamira. While she might be less worldly than the rest of the Frontier women—particularly those who have a somewhat shady past, as I do—she possesses something I can only call “hearth wisdom.” Lamira isn’t the type of person who agonizes over the right thing to do. She just knows it innately in her heart.

  That’s one of the reasons I think I’ve been drawn to her throughout our friendship. Her easy nature is a contrast to my own anxious, somewhat high-strung personality. Between the two of us, we balance each other out.

  I find her in our makeshift quarters, and at first I believe she’s entertaining company because there are many voices echoing into the corridor. But when the door slides open, my mouth falls open in shock because she has a working holovid projector.

  “You’ve been holding out on me!” I come over and sit cross-legged on her bed so I’m in the right position to take in the gorgeous colors and textures of the emitter. It’s one of the good ones, a Durzacorp model.

  “I have not.” She punches me softly in the bicep. “First Mate Grantian gifted it to me. He heard me complaining about missing As the Galaxy Churns and wanted to help.”

  I settle in next to her and squint at the display of two Alzhon actors in “Terran face” cosmetics trying to reenact a poor rip-off of Romeo and Juliet. How Lamira can watch this schlock and not want to hang herself from the ceiling is beyond me, but to each their own.

  “Well, can you stop streaming the broadcast for a moment? I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

  “Sure.” Lamira’s face creases with a worried frown before she addresses the holo projector. “Cease playback, As the Galaxy Churns season sixteen.”

  Then she turns her gaze on me, eyes narrowing as she attempts to ascertain what’s eating me.

  “Hmmm.” Her face stretches in a slight grin. “Well, it’s not an emergency, or you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’d be yelling at the good-looking Kilgari captain to fix it.”

  I hide my face in my hands when she brings up Solair. At first Lamira thinks my reaction means she’s gone too far, and she puts her hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you yell. Well, not all the time…”

  “It’s not that.” My voice is muffled by my hands, but I keep my face covered to hide my shame. “It is about Solair, though.”

  “Oh no. Did he ask us to leave?”

  I shake my head, groaning behind my hands.

  “No? Then, I don’t understand. Did you guys have another fight?”

  Again, I shake my head. I hear a sudden intake of air through clenched teeth, and then I feel Lamira’s hands pulling on my wrists, forcing me to look at her.

  “Did you hurt him?”

  I roll my eyes to the ceiling and swiftly stand up, hugging my arms across my torso as I wander toward the far wall. “No, I didn’t hurt him, Lamira. Fuck, am I such a terrible, rage-filled beast that everyone assumes the worst about me?”

  “Come on, Var, I didn’t mean it like that.” She comes over to me and hugs me from behind. “If you’re hurting, I’m hurting. Let me help you. Tell me what’s going on.”

  She takes my hand and tugs me back toward the bed as some boring news broadcast goes on in the background.

  Lamira laughs and pats my hand. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Or maybe it can.” I have to squeeze my eyes shut as I make my confession. “I… just left Solair, and we’d been, um… kissing.”

  Lamira’s eyes go wide, her mouth forms an O, and for a moment I think she’s going to start berating me for being impulsive. But then she lets out a childish whoop and pumps her fist in the air. “Yes, girl! Get up on that golden-skinned beast!”

  Now it’s my turn to gape in astonishment. “Lamira! Behave yourself. This is serious!”

  “I am being serious.” She gently shakes my shoulders in comic rage. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing something you want and going for it.”

  “Lamira, I love you like a sister, but you’re not thinking things through. I don’t even know how long we’re going to be on this ship, let alone Kilgari space. Where could this… this thing between us possibly lead?”

  Lamira purses her lips and folds her legs under her, adopting a more somber expression. “That’s one way to look at it… or, you could just see it as an opportunity to have some fun while we’re on board…”

  “Lamira!” She’s full of surprises tonight. “I can’t believe what’s coming out of your mouth. And here I thought you were so innocent.”

  “Innocent?” She laughs. “Maybe compared to some of the convicts on the Frontier, but that doesn’t mean I never think about sex.”

  “Oh god. Please stop.” I clap my hands over my ears. “I don’t know when or if we’ll be headed back to IHC space, and anyway, I thought he despised me until the other day in his quarters.”

  “You’ve been in his quarters?”

  “Shut up. Yes, we stopped arguing for a bit and just sort of talked. I almost let him kiss me that night, but then today… it just kind of happened.”

  “Hmm.” Lamira puts a finger to her lips and her gaze grows distant. “So, you think maybe he actually feels the same attraction you do?”

  I sigh and pick at the fibers on the bedspread. “I know he does. He—during our spirited make-out session, he said something like ‘you could be mine.’”

  Lamira’s hand flies in front of her mouth, and she gets as giddy as a schoolgirl.

  “Oh my god, that’s fantastic. That’s just the kind of thing you want a big, hunky golden alien to say, especially one with two…”

  I hold up my hand to forestall further comments. “Can we not bring that up again, please? This is confusing enough without… without having to bring that into the mix.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Lamira throws her hands up in the air, and then she settles back ostensibly to finish watching her show. “But you know you’ve thought about it at least a few times.”

  “I’ve thought about smothering you with a pillow a few times, too.”

  “You’d never do it. You’re all talk.”

  I grin savagely and grab her pillow, attempting to pin her to the bed. While we laugh, squeal, and grapple, her foot hits the holo projector unit and changes the channel.

  Peering over her shoulder as she attempts to throttle me, I gape when I see Thrase’s face on the display.

  “Hold up, Lamira. Truce, already. Look at the news.”

  She rolls off of me, tossing the pillow to the side, and gapes at the image. I turn up the volume so we can hear more than a low drone.

  “…if you’re just joining us, this is a Novarian News Alert. The Interstellar Human Confederation has announced that it has lost custody of a number of domestic terrorists scheduled for execution. These fugitives are b
elieved to be armed and should be considered highly dangerous, and the authorities have stated they may be traveling under false names. If you have any information about the whereabouts of these fugitives, please contact your local IHC consulate.”

  Then the display changes to show my face, as well as Lamira’s. I thought this whole affair was due to my black-market smuggling and Lamira had been dragged in by mistake.

  But now it’s obvious something far more sinister is afoot. It’s also obvious that we can’t return to IHC space.

  “…thank you for tuning in to Novarian News, your galactic news source.”

  Lamira kicks the display off the bed with a sneer. “Shut up, asshole.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Solair

  Ensconced in my command seat on the bridge, I have a great view of the M’Kal Port Station. Its teardrop-shaped hull appears amidst the sea of stars as we drop out of superluminal speed.

  “MPS directly ahead.” Swipt spins his chair around and flashes a smile at me. “Shall I open a channel to the station and request a docking vector?”

  “Proceed, Swipt. And try to get us near ring four if you can. I hate having to walk all the way down just to jam my credstick into their outdated collection console.”

  Grantian steps up to my side, his gaze distant and his tone contemplative. “I wonder if some of the human women might wish to disembark here? It would be simple to arrange transport back to IHC territory at such a busy port as M’Kal.”

  He’s not wrong about that. As we vector in closer to the station, its docking rings resolve themselves to our gazes, as well as the tiny shimmering dots moving both toward and away from its central mass. Those tiny dots are actually ships, many of them much larger than the Queen.

  “Perhaps.” This idea bothers me for some reason. After the startling turn of events between me and Varia, the thought of her leaving in very short order has me both discombobulated and a little bit frustrated. “Perhaps I should speak with Varia and find out?”

  Grantian nods. “That might be prudent. They should also be informed of some of the… less than savory elements and alleyways of MPS.”

  “Varia strikes me as someone who can take care of herself, but I’ll definitely pass it along.” I unfold from my seat and clap him on the shoulder. “You have the bridge.”

  He nods, eyes still focused on the station as it grows larger on the view screen. Just as I’m about to leave, I turn back toward him, a grin stretching my lips. “Oh, Grantian, it’s come to my attention that you gifted your Durzacorp holovid projector to Varia’s friend, Lamira. The same one you ranted on and on about for months, with its three trillion color array and such…”

  Grantian attempts to keep his expression neutral, but the sudden stiffness in his shoulders is hard to miss. “Ahem. Well, that’s only because I intend to buy an even better, newer model. Here. At the station. Today. You’ll see.”

  He sits at the command chair and punches keys on the console, bringing up telemetry spreads that Swipt is more than capable of handling on his own. I chuckle to myself and leave him be.

  I first check the mess hall but don’t find Varia there. Likewise, the med bay is bereft of her presence. It would be logical to check her quarters, perhaps as even my first destination, but I’m oddly anxious about being alone with her in close confines. It’s not that I don’t trust myself. I’m just afraid that our tenuous peace might be dispelled if I say or do the wrong thing.

  As I roam about my vessel, nodding at crewmen and moving aside for those carrying burdens, my mind drifts back to when she was warm and soft in my arms. I can’t forget the taste of her lips or the way she just kind of melted her form into my own when I told her she might be mine…

  I actually walk right past cargo bay nine, which is echoing with Varia’s voice, before I realize I’ve stumbled across my quarry by accident. When I enter the room, I just catch the tail end of the conversation she’s having with Fiona and Marion.

  “…so that’s all I’ve been able to glean so far. They’re blaming us for a bombing on an IHC mining colony called Kaleth that I’ve never even heard of. The fact is, it’s not safe for us to even—”

  She turns at the sound of my footsteps and instantly her gaze drops to the floor before she forces it to return to my face. Her fellow Frontier women notice the reaction and exchange befuddled glances.

  “Captain Solair.” Her tone is as formal as my title, and the smile she gives me is bereft of teeth but full of anxiety. “How can I assist you?”

  For a moment I can’t respond because all I can think about is how she’s my fated mate, but then I force myself to speak. “I…” I clear my throat and force myself to go on. I dislike this sudden distance between us. “I just wanted to inform you that we will soon be docking with M’Kal Port Station, a fairly large transit hub for this sector.” I lick my suddenly dry lips before continuing. “It might be possible for some of your number to disembark here and seek transit back to the IHC territories.”

  Varia’s face scrunches up in a grimace. I was expecting an entirely different reaction. I step forward, reaching out to touch her but pulling my hand back at the last instant.

  “What’s the matter? I thought that you were anxious to return home.”

  She heaves a heavy sigh, and runs a hand over her face. “That may not be an option for some of us, Solair.” She gestures at Fiona and herself. “It seems that whatever conspiracy put us on the Frontier in the first place goes deeper than we thought. A lot of the girls are facing criminal charges if they return, including me.”

  I had considered as much. The holovid broadcast marking Varia and what I’ve come to think of as her “senior staff” as terrorists has been the talk of the Queen today. It might be far too dangerous for any of them, truth to be told.

  “Judging by the looks on your faces, I’m guessing this level of criminal activity is not something that’s jogging your memory?” I raise a single brow with my question.

  “No,” Varia shakes her head. “None of my girls are terrorists. Simple thieves and maybe skirting the grayer areas of the law, but we don’t go around killing people.”

  “And the human government is saying you did?”

  “They think we bombed and destroyed a mining colony.”

  “Does anyone have family or friends who can vouch for them? Maybe spouses or children?”

  “That’s the thing,” Varia looks around, scratching the back of her neck. “Most if not all of the girls who are awake now aren’t married. And if they were married in the past, they’re divorced now. The ones I’ve talked to don’t have children and they weren’t living with their parents. They were pretty much independent and on their own.”

  “Which means they have no character references or alibi?”

  “Also, it means that no one missed them when they were gone.”

  A part of my brain tugs at me.

  Varia may be right. There may be more to these women being on the ship than what appeared on the surface.

  Fiona steps forward, holding the data pad she’d been pecking on at her side. Its screen casts an eerie glow on the floor, making sinister shadows.

  “Varia? I might be able to help with at least one of our problems.”

  My destined mate turns toward her tech guru, brows climbing on her face in query. “Oh? I could use some good news.”

  “It might not help for you or me, or the rest of the ‘terrorists,’ given that they’re expecting us to be tricky, but I have ways of securing things that aren’t exactly traded upon the open market.”

  Varia flashes a panicked gaze over to me and then moves in close to her friend.

  “Maybe don’t say that quite so fucking loudly next time, Fiona.”

  Fiona spreads her hands and shrugs. “I had been striving for subtlety.”

  “You weren’t striving hard enough.”

  “Please, ladies.” They both swivel their faces in my direction, and for a moment I lose my nerve. “Ah…ther
e’s no need to fear my reaction to a little dabbling in the black market. I usually take above-board contracts, but when things are tight, I’ve been known to… skirt the law.”

  For some reason, that declaration seems to relax Varia. The tension drains from her face, and she glances over at Fiona. “Go ahead and spill your plan, I guess. It’s all right.”

  “Okay, boss. Here’s the situation. With over ten trillion estimated sapients in the galaxy, how do you know the person you’re talking to is really who they say they are?”

  Varia’s brow furrows in confusion.

  “Well, I suppose…I’d check their passport, or maybe do a retinal DNA scan?”

  “Ah, but how do you know that the information provided by those things is correct?” Fiona’s eyes are shining, and her manner is a trifle more eager than I’m comfortable with, considering we’re talking about illegal activities. “All it takes is the right person on the right data system to change that information to whatever they want, and presto. You have a new identity.”

  “Fake IDs?” Varia shakes her head and frowns. “I’m not going to ask where you learned how to do this, or why, but I’m just going to point out that a fake photo isn’t going to fool a DNA scanner.”

  Fiona chuckles and buffs her nails on her coveralls before blowing on them smugly. “All the scanner is going to do is access the galactic database. If the info in there says you are who you say you are, the scan is a nonissue.”

  I consider this information, rubbing my fingers across my lips. It seems like a solution that’s far from foolproof. While many of the women might be able to find passage back to the IHC, it won’t be their home world. And with the reason for their incarceration upon the Frontier in cryopods still unclear, it seems a risky proposition to drop them off on a free port as exciting as MPS can be.

  “Varia?”

  She pauses in her discussion with Fiona and turns her gaze upon me. “Yes?”

  “I would speak to you about this matter in private. Would you be willing to join me in my quarters?”

  There’s only the briefest of pauses before she gestures toward the open bay door. “Very well. Lead on.”

 

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