Alien Rogue's Captive

by Viki Storm

  “Can you get into the nav system?” I broadcast over our comm-link. I’m synced with Hollyhock13 and Corvi. Corvi was despondent with guilt over destroying the vita-packs. He swore a blood-oath to get her back. And while I do appreciate (and need) his help, I know that the responsibility of getting Brooke back is mine alone.

  “Hollyhock?” I repeat. “Are you there?” The Jirdie offered to help me for more practical reasons: I offered her two thousand credits.

  “I can’t find the network,” she says.

  “Then I won’t be able to find your payment,” I say. Corvi snorts laughter over the comm.

  “You’re impatient,” Hollyhock says.

  “Of course I am, Brooke’s inside an escape pod programmed to send her back to Phuru. You saw her record. You know what punishment she was sentenced to.”

  “And that’s why I do not begrudge your impatience,” Hollyhock says. “I’m still just surprised you’re so keen to save her when she’s going to kill you.”

  “That remains to be seen,” I say, but in truth, the Phurusian prediction is more than a little disturbing. It’s like the residue of a nightmare that lingers for hours after waking up. “Just concern yourself with reprogramming that escape pod’s autopilot coordinates. And I’ll concern myself with getting killed.”

  “You mean not getting killed,” the Jirdie reminds me.

  “If all goes well,” I mutter.

  I run another scan of the area, and the energy signature is stronger. It’s gotta be her. Hilf wouldn’t kill her, not when he needs the vita-packs. He might murder me on general principle, but I’m prepared for it. There was a time I might not have cared too much about an impending attempt on my life, but that time is in the past. Not now, not when I’ve found my mate. I’ll be thrice-damned if I let some dandy like Hilf kill me and cheat me out of the time with my mate that I’m owed.

  I enhance the scan and adjust my ship’s coordinates. Time is running out. Hilf said that I had three hours, and it’s already been over two and a half.

  I descend under the atmosphere cover, the dense methane clouds obscuring my scanners. The sky is instantly clear, and what I see almost stops my heart.

  The palace is huge, several stories and spanning half a kilometer in breadth. There is a great courtyard landscaped with lush vegetation, despite the fact that on this planet the methane atmosphere will kill most plant matter. Lord Phuru must have controlled aeration and gas-exchange pumps running constantly in order to support such a garden. But all this is running in the background of my mind.

  Because there is an escape pod in the middle of the yard. It’s a subcompact model, the sort fitted into gunners and lightcraft. The hatch is open, and Hilf is looming over it, pointing his weapon inside.

  I grit my teeth and feel the ice cold of impending battle begin to flow in my veins. Despite everything, a smile comes unbidden to my lips. I do love a good fight—and this is going to be one.

  This is the fight where Hilf dies. He’s a formidable fighter in his own right, not relying on hand-to-hand brawn, of course. Hilf battles with his speed and his wits—and his staff. The staff can emit a pulse of ultraviolet light capable of burning the flesh off of any carbon-based lifeform with only a few seconds of exposure. More than a few seconds, it burns through to the bone.

  I get closer and see he’s not pointing his staff into the pod. It’s something else. A particle blaster or…

  A remote detonation device.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. I push down on the throttle. I need to get down there faster. Landing is supposed to be a delicate procedure, but Kenorians aren’t known for their finesse. I come down swift as I can, projecting the landing beams at the last possible moment. My ship lurches and then crashes into the ground.

  Brooke is in that pod with another collar around her neck, and Hilf pointing the control at her.

  Whatever is happening, it’s not part of the plan. The plan was for a clean exchange, not for him to murder her in cold blood before I even get there.

  The smile on my face gets wider. Brooke. She must have done something to piss him off. I should be mad—should be livid—that she would provoke her captor, but I’m not. I’m proud of her. She did not cower; she did not beg. She fought. I know it. She tried to escape. Probably with many Earth curse words on her tongue.

  Before my ship has come to a complete stop, I’ve torn off my harness and thrown open the hatch. I jump out, not realizing I’m still a good two meters off the ground. I land painfully, my knee wrenching on impact. I’ll have time to deal with it later. Right now, I have to get that detonator away from Hilf.

  I run, the tendons in my knee screaming out, sending white-hot bolts of pain up the side of my leg. I can ignore the pain—I’ve been injured worse—but I can’t ignore the slow pace at which I’m limping along. I point my weapon and send a warning blast. I have no hope of hitting Hilf at this range, but I’m sure I’ll get his attention. It’s hard to ignore a pissed-off, armed Kenorian coming straight at you.

  “Right on time,” Hilf says. “I hope you’ll forgive me my impetuousness. I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to decorate the inside of the escape pod with blood.”

  “Brooke,” I call, ignoring Hilf.

  “Anax,” she screams. Her scream is music to my ears. She’s alive and has enough strength for a powerful shout.

  “You’re safe now,” I say. “Hilf, I have your vita-packs. Let her go. We’re going to trade, remember?”

  “Trade,” he scoffs. “I should kill you both and take the vita-packs.”

  “Not so fast,” I say. “I’ve got Corvi flying a second ship. He’s got the vita-packs, and he’s only landing if I give him the go-ahead.”

  “No,” Brooke says. “Don’t give it to him. You can’t.” I want to laugh. Little does she know that there are no vita-packs, not since Corvi destroyed them.

  “Yes, Brooke,” I say. “I can’t let him hurt you.”

  “He’s going to hurt billions if he gets those vita-packs. Don’t do it.”

  “Stop this senseless lover’s quarrel,” Hilf says. “How I hate to see discord among fated mates. It doesn’t matter, you see, because I’m going to kill both of you and take the vita-packs anyway.” He points the remote detonator at Brooke again, and I lunge, taking him down to the ground. The grass is soft, and it cushions our fall a little. Hilf doesn’t even let out a whoop when we land, even though my whole weight is on top of him. He must be in better fighting condition than I thought. The remote detonator has fallen from his hand, but he’s still got his staff at his belt. A staff isn’t good for close fighting. I have all the advantages.

  Still, I’m surprised by a quick cross to the side of my jaw. I feel searing pain and know from experience that there is a hairline fracture and tomorrow morning my face will be swollen. My weapon is knocked from my hands.

  I respond in kind with a punch between his ribs, to the tender plexus of nerves. He doesn’t flinch. This is what I get for being overconfident, for underestimating my opponent. I land another blow, this time on the hollow of his throat. He gasps, and for a moment I feel triumph. I put everything I had into that strike, and it landed true. It was a blow to kill. A blow that should kill.

  Except it doesn’t.

  He growls and braces himself against the ground and then hoists himself up, bucking me off.

  “First her,” he says. “Then you. You’ll know her death is your fault, and it will be a delightful banquet of anguish to feast upon.”

  Brooke leaps out of the escape pod, lunging at Hilf. But she is small and weak and cannot even budge him. She bounces off his chest and falls to the ground. Hilf’s going for the detonator again, but I need to get in his way.

  “Brooke, get back in the pod and close the hatch. It will take you somewhere safe.”

  “It’s taking me back to Phuru,” she says. “I’m not going back there.”

  “It’s not, trust me, get back inside. Hollyhock’s reprogramming it.” I try to explain as
much as I can, but the truth is I don’t know if Hollyhock has been able to reprogram it yet. Maybe by telling her to get back inside the pod I’m sending her back to Phuru.

  “Reprogramming?” Hilf says. “Go ahead, you can send her corpse anywhere you want!”

  “Get in and close the hatch!” I tell her again. She’s saying something, but I can’t hear.

  Hilf has me in a chokehold. He was so fast I didn’t have a chance. What a fool I’ve been. I deserve this. I’ve failed. Hilf’s arm is around my neck, crushing, squeezing. I can’t breathe. And he’s only using one arm. How could a willowy Phurusian have such strength and power? His other arm holds out the detonator. This is it. He’s going to do it.

  “Brooke!” I say. In an instant I understand everything. How this is going to play out. The Phurusian prophecy and our role in it. “My weapon. Pick it up. You have to shoot me.”

  “No,” she says. “I can shoot Hilf.”

  “You can’t,” I say. Hilf is behind me, his arm around my neck. I’m so much bigger than he is, he’s completely sheltered behind me. There’s no way Brooke could shoot him.

  Unless she shoots through me.

  That’s the only way she can survive this.

  “Do it,” I say. I know she doesn’t care about her own survival right now, so I say, “So he doesn’t make the weapon. Do it for the billions of innocents. Now!”

  Tears stream down her face. It’s not fair of me to ask her to do this, but there’s no choice. Hilf must be stopped, and in less than a minute I’m going to run out of oxygen and die. Then Hilf will be unencumbered, free to kill Brooke and however many other lifeforms on however many other planets in the name of Lord Phuru. This is why Hilf is such an effective underling—he really enjoys his work. Corvi might have destroyed the vita-packs, but that will only be a minor stumbling block to someone like Hilf. He’ll find another way to inflict destruction and pain.

  “You bastard,” Brooke screams. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or Hilf. Probably both.

  The ray feels like a knife blade tempered in the icy pools of Rhomheria’s lost ice galaxy. My entire body goes cold—but not numb. I wish it did. The pain is excruciating, every nerve in my body firing and misfiring like I’m being stabbed over and over again by a million icy-sharp needles.

  Then, there is nothing but the embrace of the Black.

  - - -

  “Anax!” It’s the sweetest sound, my name on her lips. Brooke, I try to say, but I can’t move. The beam from my weapon has paralyzed me.

  But it didn’t kill me.

  Like those primitive and wayward bullets humans use, the pass-through isn’t as bad as when it hits the target. The beam is mass, after all, and it will slow through soft tissue and sinew, but it will stop when it hits bone. When the energy connects with a solid mass, it bursts, ricocheting outward in a million smaller directions, rending anything in its path.

  Basically, I got the drill and Hilf got the hammer.

  “Jesus,” she says. “Corvi, come here, he’s waking up.”

  “And he doesn’t need the first thing he sees to be my ugly face,” my fellow warior says. He must have landed when he heard the trouble over the comm-link.

  “I can—” I say, trying to sit up, but it hurts and I lie back down.

  “Don’t try to get up,” she says. “I could fucking kill you for that. Making me kill you.”

  “You’re going to kill me because I made you kill me?” I say. She is hovering over me, and I am glad that hers is the first face I see. It invigorates me, reminds me of all that I have to live for. Her collar is gone, and the relief I feel is a weight instantly vanished.

  “Not anymore,” Corvi says. “According to the biometrics on your battle armor, your heart stopped for ninety seconds. So you were dead. Technically. If you want to be a little wimp about it.”

  “I sort of do,” I say, wincing in pain as I try to sit up again. The pain is intense, but I’ve had worse. What’s worse than the pain is the fatigue and confusion. How many of my neurons and cranial cells were damaged by ninety seconds without oxygen? But this time I manage to get on one elbow.

  Brooke is here, alive and unharmed except the swollen bit underneath her eye. I reach out one arm and grab onto her shirt, pulling her to me. I put my hand to the back of her neck, feeling the soft skin where no collar will ever—ever—be locked again.

  The feel of her body against mine, warm and radiant as a pulsar, full of the perfect, eternal bond of the Black—it was all worth it.

  Not just the chaos of the last few days. Everything in my life up to this moment has been worth it because it’s led me to her.

  “My arlo jzumak,” I whisper. “I am in your debt, your service, your life—forever.”

  “Like a butler? It’s supposed to be when you save someone’s life, they have to be in your debt. In case you forgot the events of fifteen minutes ago, I just killed you.”

  “You fool,” Corvi says. “He’s speaking the sacred vows of our people.”

  “Corvi,” I say, “thank you for your help, but please leave us the fuck alone.”

  “But I want to see your face when you look at Hilf’s body,” he says. But he turns and walks towards his ship.

  “Hilf’s body?” I ask. Brooke’s forehead wrinkles at the question.

  “Tell me more about these sacred vows,” she says. She gently takes my shoulders and helps sit me up. I can see Hilf crumpled in a heap on the grass. Good. No better place to exchange our vows than at the foot of my vanquished enemy.

  “I pledge my everything to you. My talents and labors, my lifeforce and my energies. All to you. For the benefit and profit of our household and our offspring. Do you pledge yours?” It is traditional to ask the second arlo jzumak if they pledge theirs in return, but the asking is a rote formality. Usually. As I ask Brooke, my stomach twists into a knot and my heart begins to pound. Because I know she wants to go back to Earth. I know she feels like she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t believe in the power of the arlo jzumak, the pair-bond.

  She doesn’t answer.

  Chapter 23

  Brooke

  “Because,” Anax says, but his words are choked off, as if by tears. I look at his face, but his eyes are dry. We are sitting on the lawn of Lord Phuru’s summer palace, Anax recently risen from the dead. So many things are going through my head. Guilt at having pulled the trigger on his weapon, shooting him and killing him. Even if it was to stop Hilf and all the subsequent war and destruction, the fact remains: I killed the one that I love. The one who’s speaking sacred vows and pledging his loyalty to me. “Because if this is not your wish, I will return you to Earth. I understand the ache of leaving your homeland. The feeling of not belonging in your adopted society.”

  Here’s what I’ve wanted all along: the chance to go back to Earth.

  Except now it does not excite me or fill me with relief. It’s like when the mention of a once favorite food starts to turn your stomach because you don’t like it anymore.

  “No,” I say. I don’t even need to think about it any more than a bird needs to think about how to build a nest.

  “I will,” he says again. “I can’t express how sorry I am for telling you that it was impossible to bring you back. If I had been honest, you would never have gotten on Yaubin’s ship. This never would have happened. It was always my intent to return you to Earth if you wanted to—please believe me. But I couldn’t do it until I was sure that you did not reciprocate the pair-bond. I trusted that you would feel it eventually but that it grew slower with you because you’re from Earth. I couldn’t take you back right away before you had a chance to understand what it means to be arlo jzumak. It would be an affront to the Unseen Hand that brought us together. And it would be a devastating loss for us both, to lose the most valuable, coveted gift a mortal being can receive. I will take you back, return you to your home, if that is your will.”

  “It is not,” I say with more force. I want to be upset that he’
s willing to take me back, but I know how much this hurts him. I can feel how much it hurts him. The pair-bond must have attuned me to his feelings. He would only take me to Earth if I didn’t feel the bond, if I didn’t want him.

  But I do feel it.

  I do want him.

  “You pledge your service,” I remind him. I feel a surge of energy start to flow through me, invigorating me like a B-12 shot. “And I pledge mine. My talents and skills—minuscule and useless in this world though they may be—are now at your disposal. I will use my energy to enrich our household and partnership. We will build something, and I will be your co-architect. I’ll bear your children and make sure they’re well-behaved and smart and not total little shitheads.”

  He laughs. “That’s not the sacred vow, but it’s pretty damn close.” I cling to him with a fierceness that sorta scares me. I almost lost him. And that would have been a loss like a void, a pit, a severed limb where you always feel the itch and tingle as if it should be there.

  “Do you accept it?” I say. “Even though I murdered you? Murder pretty much flies in the face of the sacred words of your people.”

  “Not when it’s right and just. We stopped Hilf and the murder of countless innocent people,” he says.

  But Anax doesn’t know yet. He didn’t see Hilf’s body.

  We didn’t stop anything.

  “You need to see something—” I start to say. He needs to know what we’re up against. What battles are still to come.

  He needs to know what Corvi found inside the summer palace.

  “You were only doing what was right. What your mate commanded you to do,” he says. His hand roams up my side and finds one of my breasts. He swirls his fingers around until my nipple stands out, stiff and inviting. I would have assumed that sex would be the last thing on my mind, but Anax can coax desire out of me as easily as a pump draws water from a deep underground well.