Alien Bride: A Dark Alien Sci-Fi Romance

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Alien Bride: A Dark Alien Sci-Fi Romance Page 11

by Penelope Woods


  “We won’t do any such thing,” Rekker shouts.

  Rekker says, “I love Emma, and so do the others. She’s our bride.”

  Twelve

  Emma

  How did that song go?

  You know, the one you used to sing to taunt the other kids on the playground? The one that made a mockery of the first feelings of love.

  “Emma and some brutal aliens, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

  First, comes invasion. Then comes marriage. Then come the sentinels, leaving you with the baby carriage.

  I trace my fingers across my stomach, curling into my navel.

  What really comes first are the tears. No matter how tough I want to stay, they always break down my walls first. Second, comes the sickness, the undeniable nausea that makes my stomach lurch.

  I vomit across the floor. It’s unladylike, but there are literal alien bones everywhere.

  All at once, my memory comes flooding back to me, and I just can’t do it anymore.

  I can’t keep running. I can’t keep fighting. It’s too much for a girl like me.

  I am alone. Not alone like I thought I was before all this went down. This time, I am truly alone.

  Only the dead surround me, and their spirits don’t feel too comforting.

  I need to head back home.

  It takes me a few hours to come to terms with everything. For a while there, I thought I might never stand again. When I do, I feel like I’m floating. It’s not good. It’s not bad. It’s just me, floating in space.

  I lift myself up and stumble against the wall. Hands feeling the rough brick, I scan each crevice until I feel a hole.

  I reach inside and feel a lever. Pulling, a door opens to bright sunlight. A spacecraft sits before me, covered in an ivy looking plant.

  An inkling of doubt runs through me. It looks too rundown to fly. I was given the ability to read their language, but I’m not a pilot, let alone a rocket scientist.

  But then I take a gander at the path toward Empire City. I can’t go there. I’d be found, raped, and then executed. Or worse. They’d keep me to breed for an eternity.

  No thanks.

  The craft is round, but it does not resemble the depictions in the movies. No, it’s round like a pinball, and multiple rings are positioned around it. This is a different type of craft than the mothership. If I had to make a guess, it’s an older model.

  There’s no way this will work, right?

  I walk around the spherical structure, stepping onto an opened platform. The inside is trashed, and covered with plants. What appear to be spider webs cover the computers.

  I flick a switch, and the lights turn on. A solid hum shakes the craft awake. The door closes, and suddenly, I lift off of the ground.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  The computer says something in their alien language, but I hear it in English. “Ready for take-off. Location?”

  Maybe it’s not so hard to fly one of these things, after all.

  I start to speak. “Eart—”

  But I cut myself off, sitting back on a weathered chair.

  “Location?” the computer repeats.

  Looking up at the ceiling for an answer, I take a deep breath and relinquish control. I could go home right now. All I’d have to do is say the coordinates. But for whatever reason, I can’t seem to get them out.

  I’m torn between two ideas. My family, and the one I have just created and lost.

  I still have our baby inside of my womb. In time, it will take shape and develop a mind and heart. I can’t tell them I left their fathers to die.

  “Location?”

  In a moment of passion, I hit the screen. “Will you just shut up and let me think?”

  “Location?”

  “Ugh!”

  “Location?”

  I twist my jaw and bite my inner lip. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…

  “Take me to Planet Ferän,” I say.

  The computer’s display screen shows a complex map of the universe. Even though I can understand the language, it’s far too big for me to comprehend.

  The computer says, “Planet Ferän. Searching coordinates. Found. Please, brace for take-off.”

  I take hold of the seat belt, but the craft doesn’t wait for me to buckle up. Within a single second, we’re zooming through the air, blazing into the cosmos. I’m barely hanging on.

  I hear the sounds of lasers, of gunfire and more devastation from below. I’m not sure if it’s aimed at me, but I manage to escape into the twinkling stars above.

  I feel my skin tingle. The stars and galaxies warp, and I feel myself start to disintegrate.

  Literally. My skin dissolves into atoms. My cells split apart, and the entire universe opens up for me.

  The craft can apparently warp through space and time. I don’t know how. It didn’t seem like a wormhole, but how it happened is irrelevant to me.

  In the distance, Ferän floats. It grows bigger. Minutes pass, and I’m nearing it’s dusty atmosphere.

  Akron is my last hope.

  I hit the atmosphere. The ship rumbles. An error message appears on screen.

  “Harsh conditions ahead. No landing systems are available at this time. Goodbye.”

  “Wait. What?” I shout, hands trembling over the hundreds of lit-up buttons. I have no idea what to press or what to say.

  “Land!” I yell.

  “No landing systems are available at this time. Goodbye.”

  “Stupid computer,” I mutter, jumping back into my seat.

  This time, I fit the belt around my body. I lock myself in place.

  I’m going down. Mayday. Going down...

  No one tells you what it’s like to crash in a futuristic spacecraft, but I can tell you one thing. The sound is deafening. Like a nuclear siren.

  The heat from the outside burning causes sweat to form across my skin.

  I close my eyes and brace. The last thing I see is the site of a vast desert, carved out with tunnels.

  I feel the blow of metal against rocky earth. I’m thrown forward, but my belt catches me. The heavy sound of metal bending sends me into a state of panic.

  We skid across the landscape, hitting the ground near a large mountain.

  I’m sure I’m going to die, but the craft slows and comes to a halt.

  The craft balances. Right on a fucking cliff.

  I’m careful to breathe. “Okay,” I whisper. “This is okay...”

  The craft tilts forward, sliding. Luckily it catches against a large plant. “Oh, God,” I say.

  The computer’s speech malfunctions, tone drowning into a lower octave. “No landing systems are available at this time. Goodbye.”

  My neck hurts like hell, but I’m okay.

  Clicking my belt off, I stand and stretch. The craft starts to inch again, scraping across the rocks below.

  The door opens automatically, and I jump outside as the spaceship falls off the edge. On the way down, it drags against the rock wall, shattering into pieces.

  “No...” I whisper.

  Great. I’m stuck here now.

  Immediately, I feel the harsh heat burn my skin. I glance up and see two suns. “And here I was, thinking our Chicago summer was hot,” I whisper.

  “This isn’t Chicago,” a deep voice resounds behind me.

  I turn, throwing my arms up pathetically.

  Akron stands, gun wielded around his shoulder. “Calm down. It’s me.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Akron,” I cry. “The sentinels. They came to the facility. They found us.”

  He curses under his breath. “Shit. I thought you were my way out, but you fucked up that landing nicely.”

  He looks pretty messed up. His eyes are black from a beating he must have taken here. Blood cloaks his shirt. He’s still strong, but I can tell he hasn’t eaten in days.

  “What has happened to you?” I ask.

  He falls to the ground, weak but unwilling to take my
hand. “I’m fine,” he growls.

  “You are not fine, Akron,” I say.

  He stumbles to his feet, wagging his head. “I’ll get over it.”

  Reaching forward, I grip the front of his shirt and feel the cold blood soaking through. He’s injured.

  “Tell me what happened to you,” I demand.

  He groans in pain, kneeling once more. “What happened to me?” he asks, face twisting. “You happened to me.”

  He lunges forward, prepared to strangle me, but he misses and falls face first into the dirt.

  Lurching forward, he clenches his stomach, trembling like a wounded animal.

  I stand above him. “I’m sorry for what has happened to you, but I am not the source of your troubles. Blame the aliens that abducted me, sure. But you and I both know the Empire is the real enemy.”

  He slides across the dirt, away from me. “Why did you come here?”

  I follow, and he finally stops, chest pumping inches into the air.

  “I came here for your help,” I say.

  “Fuck my help. Why would I help you? I have lost everything. And now, the slaves have organized their own rebellion. My ship is fucking toast. I’ve been hiding for a full day now. I’m on the verge of death,” he cries.

  I start to pace. I wasn’t aware of the slave rebellion. Good for them. They deserve independence, but they could easily mistake us as their colonizers.

  Time is limited.

  “We just need to band together and think,” I say.

  “I just wanted to lay low. I didn’t want to participate in all of the bullshit. Why did I ever let you lot into my bar?” he asks.

  “No time for useless questions that rely on self pity and blame. There is only the present, not the past. You hear me? So stand up and help me think of a good plan to get my husbands back from the Empire’s hands.”

  He pauses. “They impregnated you?”

  I nod. “I am carrying,” I say. “Whether they live or die, I will have their child.”

  Groaning, he stands and hobbles toward a rock. “And I’m assuming the sentinels took them away? You escaped?”

  I nod again.

  “I’m surprised a primitive being such as yourself made it this far,” he says.

  Even I’m amazed. I’ve always had it in me. I guess I just needed a little push.

  He glances back at the cliff and sighs. “All right. Fine. I won’t kill you,” he says.

  “You really thought you could kill me? You’re barely hanging on,” I joke.

  He swings his weapon. “I’ve got the ammo.”

  “Fair enough,” I say.

  I’m starving. I need a shower. I’ve barely slept two hours in the last few days. I feel absolutely insane. The worst part is I know this isn’t the end.

  “Follow me,” he says, walking as fast as he can toward a facility in the distance, protected by an electrified gate.

  Small drops of blood trail behind him. I wonder just how bad he really is...

  The gate opens once Akron punches in the code. He glances around us before quickly shutting it.

  Out of breath, he continues to walk toward a building. “The slaves stole the Resnyx,” he says. “And the gold, and all the fucking weapons they needed to take.”

  The thought sends chills down my spine. “How is that possible?” I ask.

  “They left the planet without a plan. They set up electrified barriers, but they didn’t expect them to hack into the Resnyx transport once it arrived,” he says, shaking his head. “Basically, they were fucking stupid.”

  “Hey,” I warn. “I’m carrying their baby, remember?”

  He opens the door to the building. Inside is a sterile hallway with doors that lead to unknown rooms. “Another idiotic plan,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “The Empire will not recognize your marriage. There was no witness,” he says.

  “Yeah. Because you opted out,” I reply.

  He shakes his head. “You don’t get it. Slain wouldn’t recognize it, regardless. This whole intergalactic law business is a sham. He does what he wants, when he wants. That’s why I stayed out of the way. I opened a bar and tried to move on with my life.”

  I get it. I honestly do. But now that we’re here, the stakes are glaringly obvious. It’s like I need to spell it out for him.

  “If he stays here, you will die,” I say. “Do you understand?”

  He grumbles, but does not reply.

  “If we fight the Empire, we could suffer the same fate, but at least we gave it a try,” I say.

  He heads through the hallway, pausing at a door. He opens it, revealing a small medical station. “How are we going to get back? Your craft fell off a cliff. Mine is in need of repair.”

  I bite my cheek and think. There has to be a way. I hope we’re not stuck here forever.

  Finally, it hits me. The obvious choice. Reconciliation.

  “We let the slaves keep the gold,” I say.

  He pauses. “Excuse me?”

  “And the Resnyx,” I add.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? If they control the Resnyx, they control the universe,” he asks. “Trust me. You don’t want a bunch of slave aliens running things.”

  It’s only right to let them have it. They received nothing in return for their hard labor. It’s not ideal for us, but I have a plan to make it work. He just has to trust me.

  “Fair or not, they have the upper hand on us. They are your people, no different from you. You need to make peace on their terms. You don’t want to die, right?” I ask.

  He sits on a surgical bed and groans. “No,” he says. “I don’t. But I also don’t know if I can handle another regime change.”

  “The universe is unstable,” I say. “Brace for impact, right?”

  His nostrils flare. “Can’t say I’m the biggest fan of the universe.”

  “Me neither,” I say. “But I think I’m starting to understand it.”

  I don’t hate it anymore. I don’t blame myself for the past. There are still things that need to be addressed, but I have to believe things will heal along the way. Without that faith, I have nothing.

  He lies back. “You ever stitch up a plasma wound before?” he asks.

  I raise a brow. “A what?”

  “Thats what I thought,” he mutters, reaching into the drawer next to him. “Well, it’s easy. Just take this gun here. Hold the charge button on the side. Once it heats up, I need you to run it across my wound.”

  “Couldn’t you have done this yourself?” I ask.

  He chuckles and removes his shirt. The wound is directly in the center of his back. It’s lucky his spine wasn’t impacted.

  “Trust me, honey. I’d have done it myself if I could’ve reached it. This here’s a two man job,” he says.

  I grip the odd-looking metallic gun. Cautiously, I click the button. The inner core starts to light up. An orange swirl, like a mini sun appears.

  “Come on. Just do it,” he says, clenching his mouth tight.

  I place the heated barrel against his back and pull the trigger. The flaming ball of energy shoots out and glides across the skin. His wounds heal as I drag it around the flesh.

  “Fucking hell,” he cries. “All right, enough!”

  I keep it going for a few more seconds, until it’s fully healed.

  He exhales and rocks forward. “Son of a bitch,” he curses.

  “There. I saved your life,” I say.

  He laughs again. “Everyone’s always saying that to me.”

  But I’m not laughing.

  Outside of the window, I see the slaves marching toward us. It’s not the weapons I’m afraid of. No, it’s something much worse.

  Someone in the center is holding a glass vial, no bigger than my thumb. I know what’s inside. Resnyx. Pure energy.

  Akron was right. They are out for blood. Seeing their tenacity, I realize negotiating is going to be difficult.

  I swallow and
take a step back.

  Is this where I die? Is this where I realize our love wasn’t forever?

  None of the slaves are female. It doesn’t matter where I go. As long as I’m in the Empire’s jurisdiction, I will always be looked at like a rare piece of meat.

  “Are you seeing what I see?” I ask.

  He stands, nearly silent. “Told you.”

  “Think they’ll want to fix your ship?” I ask, voice full of sarcasm.

  It’s not the time to make jokes.

  They already have the Resnyx. The gold. The sheer numbers and weapons to back them up. What negotiating can we do?

  Akron touches my shoulder, pulling me back. “Okay, Ms. Diplomacy. If you can figure this out, I’ll fight to get your alphas back. And once that’s done, I’ll take you back to Earth.”

  He’ll take us home.

  “Deal.”

  Thirteen

  Rekker

  “You bastards! You traitorous, Empire scum! Fight me like a real alpha,” Vraik shouts.

  Vraik is cuffed, but he’s still being himself, lunging at the sentinels, teeth out. It’s stupid as hell, but I admire his tenacity.

  They beat him to a bloody pulp. Then they beat Lök and I. It’s a total fucking party.

  When we’re aching, dizzy and downright docile, they drag our bodies into their mothership and shut the doors.

  “Slain wishes to see you,” the sentinel leader says, eyes black as coal.

  “Why? What business does the Emperor have with us?” I growl.

  What a stupid question.

  Another hit to my face collapses my body into his chest. He pushes me to the floor, boot resting against my neck.

  “You didn’t follow the rules,” he says, coldly.

  I’ve always played by the rules. Lök used to called me a stargazer, but I was never a dreamer. I wanted to understand the laws of the universe. I thought there might be a way to force power into the hands of our people.

  But I was wrong.

  Logic, facts and reason don’t make a difference to living beings. Power comes with a loud enough person and a good story.

  It’s up to Slain to have the only argument. That’s the way he continues winning.

  The mothership slowly wades through the air, shadowing the landscape below us. The sentinel laughs and points at the view from one of the many windows. “Your female is somewhere below,” he says.

 

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