Rekker: Warlord Brides (Warriors of Vaznik Book 1)

by Ava York

  REKKER

  Vaznik Warriors: Book One

  Ava York

  Starr Huntress

  Contents

  Lila

  Rekker

  Lila

  Rekker

  Lila

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  Lila

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  Lila

  Rekker

  Lila

  Are you a STARR HUNTRESS?

  Kyre: Sneak Peek

  Rogue Mate

  Lila

  “Lila, it’s time!”

  My sister Nora’s voice echoed through the old wooden barn. The little lamb I was trying to bottle feed squirmed in my arms and I muttered under my breath.

  Of course it was time. Every Friday, just about now, it was always time.

  “Lila!” Nora called again and I heard the squeak of the barn door opening.

  “You’d better shut that tight behind you,” I yelled, even though I wouldn’t mind the distraction of having to round up the rest of the flock.

  Especially today.

  I scratched behind the little guy’s ears before withdrawing the empty bottle.

  “I’ll be back in just a few minutes,” I promised and stood, brushing straw from the knees of my jeans.

  Nora leaned over the stall door, rolling her eyes.

  “You’re going to be late,” she chided.

  “There’s not any way to be late,” I grumbled. “The lottery is going to happen if we’re there to listen to it with bated breath or not.”

  The late spring evening wrapped the farmhouse in gentle shadows, still just a touch chilly from the last frost. Alfalfa had already started to come up, and the farm would be in full swing soon.

  “What if you don’t know? Are you packed? What would you bring?” She bounced beside me as we left the barn and crossed the yard towards the house. “I’m packed. Just in case.”

  Nora was the only person I knew who was excited about the lottery.

  She was excited at the idea of going to strange new worlds, meeting aliens, having adventures.

  All of that.

  I was excited that we weren’t all dead or slaves at the hands of the Suhlik, but a treaty that involved my body, made without my input, that could turn me into a broodmare for some alien Mahdfel warrior I’ve never met?

  No thanks.

  I had other plans. The farm had other plans for me, even if I didn’t. I did my best not to even think about the lottery, the treaty, the testing.

  Any of it.

  Nora tugged me into the house, ignoring my grumbling. As usual.

  “Come on, girls.” Mom’s voice drifted in from the family room, tight with worry as it always was on Friday.

  Six daughters.

  If it weren’t for the superstitious taboo that kept anyone from talking about the lottery, her friends probably would have teased her that she was tempting fate.

  With six daughters, the likelihood that one of us would be selected, have our birthdate pop up on some random Friday, was higher than normal.

  But the odds of being matched were the same for everyone, I reminded myself as I kicked off my filthy workboots in the mudroom and followed Nora in.

  Our other sister, Jane, was already on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

  As the third oldest, she’d just become eligible. just realized how quickly her life could change.

  Posey, Farah, and Kate were too young. At fourteen, eleven, and nine, respectively, they could ignore it. Hell, I wanted them to ignore the whole thing.

  Until they didn’t have a choice.

  The government comms unit crackled to life and my mother froze, eyes fixed on it.

  My father stopped mid-rock in the old rocking chair across the room, watching us all with the same hazel eyes I’d inherited from him.

  Normally, we counted on the government communication unit for information about tornadoes, nasty hailstorms, the sort of things that you needed to know about on a rural farm.

  But every Friday was lottery day.

  “Good Friday, citizens,” the announcer said.

  His voice was far too cheerful. Every single week, it grated on my frayed nerves.

  Who on Earth had told him that this was even vaguely appropriate for the thousand, probably millions listening, waiting, hoping?

  “Those lucky females born on February twenty-first should report to the testing facility nearest you.” My heart froze in my chest, as Nora’s wide eyes swung towards me.

  “I repeat, February twenty-first is the date selected for this week’s lottery. Thank you for your attention and adherence to the treaty. Good luck, everyone!”

  My luck had run out.

  February twenty-first was my birthday.

  Nora bounced up and down.

  “You’re going!” she squealed. “You’re really going! Are you packed? I’ll bet you’re not even packed.”

  I tuned her chatter out, my eyes focused on the bleak expression on my father’s face.

  “Maybe you won’t be a match,” Jane whispered, reaching down to take my hand.

  “Probably not,” I agreed, squeezing her fingers.

  It was true. You had to be at least a 98.5% perfect match to be sent away. It was a crazy high level.

  Still, it would mean being sent away to somewhere I’d never been, probably somewhere I’d never even heard of, to be the mate of some alien.

  I’d spent my life training to be a veterinarian. It was all I’d ever wanted to be, the most wonderful future I could imagine.

  Between that and growing up on my family’s farm, there was very little doubt in my mind what being someone’s mate would entail.

  Would I even have a choice in the matter?

  I swallowed hard, feeling faint.

  “I know this wasn’t in your plans, Lila, but what have I always told you?” my father asked.

  There was so much kindness and love in his eyes that I forced myself to look away.

  “Never give up on your dreams, no matter what,” I recited.

  The words he’d told each of us girls all our lives, that no matter what happened and no matter where we ended up, our dreams should never die. And despite my anger at being selected, I knew he was right.

  Earth couldn’t be the only planet in the universe with animals that I could care for. I was sure I could be a vet anywhere, on any world out there in the black, even if it wasn’t on the farm that I’d poured my blood, sweat, tears, and love into my entire life.

  I couldn’t imagine a life without this place or my family. I couldn’t imagine going even a single day without my sisters.

  But I quickly pushed those thoughts from my mind. If I dwelt on them, I’d never leave, and it was that thought alone that broke my heart.

  At that moment, a thought hit me. It was imperative that I report to the facility, but did I have to stay there?

  What if I went and just . . . didn’t sign in? I was sure I could find somewhere to hide out for a week and then make my way back home. I’d just tell everyone I wasn’t successfully matched.

  Hell, most women weren’t a match.

  It seemed plausible enough, right?


  “Lila, honey.” My mom’s voice broke, just a bit. “They’re here.”

  Wait.

  What?

  Rekker

  Damn, I was tired.

  It had been a long mission.

  Actually, it’d been long mission after long mission, so many of them that they blurred together.

  I stretched, wincing a bit, as I headed down the halls of the Calliope to the med bay.

  “What are you doing back here, Rekker?” Javik snapped.

  He was a good medic, and a better science officer.

  But not really one for the niceties of social interaction.

  “Checking to see if you were done tormenting my pilot yet,” I snarled.

  Alright, maybe I wasn’t at my social best, either. The day had nearly gone very, very badly.

  Javik adhered a patch over Cedroc’s eye, the sterile white disturbing against Cedroc’s hunter green skin.

  “Don’t tell me you lost one,” I joked, keeping my voice light in case Cedroc actually had.

  The last battle against the Suhlik raiding party had been nasty.

  Luckily, Sector Command had sent the Walkandro, a mobile command hub, as well as a dozen ships all our size or larger, to take care of the bastards.

  Sure, the Suhlik hadn’t attacked Earth proper since the Mahdfel had driven them away, but that didn’t seem to stop them from sniping at the edges of every system they could find, looking for easy prey for their trafficking cells and breeding centers.

  We’d taken superficial injuries, but no casualties, better off than some of the other ships that had been part of the operation.

  The Calliope had taken damage, but nothing more than Kyre, my engineer, would be able to handle now that we were docked with the Walkandro, like a sleek spoke radiating out from a giant wheel.

  A few other ships were still docked, as well, but the rest had already departed for new missions, or if they were lucky, some downtime.

  “His eye will be fine if he quits squirming,” Javik spat.

  Cedroc gave a tiny shrug. “Just a laceration around the socket from where that panel came loose. Doc wants me to keep it covered to avoid infection,” he answered, finally giving me the information I needed. “I’ll be ready to go when you give the order, Captain.”

  “You’ll be ready to go when I say,” Javik corrected.

  I watched as the tattoos on the science officer’s shoulder heated from gold to vermilion, indicating his annoyance.

  All Vaznik Mahdfel had the same tattoos, broadcasting our emotions to the rest of our crewmates and families.

  Not that one usually needed to guess.

  “How long do you estimate it will take to heal?” I asked, not really caring that the vermillion now was a full-blown crimson against Javik’s natural deep blue. “You do realize I’ll need my pilot to get us out of this damn system, right?”

  He snorted. “A week would be ideal. If you want your pilot not to lose that eye after all.”

  A week, I thought grimly.

  “Maybe I can make a deal,” Cedroc said, grinning. “I’ll take it easy for the next two rotations, and then he rigs up something that just covers the wound, and not half my vision?”

  I left them arguing the details.

  They’d figure it out.

  They always did.

  In the corridor outside, I came across Kyre, who was holding a thick wad of bandages over a pretty deep gash on his left arm, and Derrix, my weapons specialist, who had quite a nasty lump rising over his right eyebrow just below where his horn began.

  “Shouldn’t you be in med bay, not waiting outside?” I asked them both.

  “Doc’s in a cranky mood,” Kyre answered.

  “He needs to find something new to poke and prod that isn’t us,” Derrix elaborated. “Maybe some nice rock would keep him busy.”

  Kyre shook his head. “We’re taking on supplies from the hub, should be able to have most of the damage repaired in a day, maybe two.”

  “Biggest hassle is, the teleport is down.” Derrix leaned back against the bulkhead. “We keep having to run and ferry the stuff into the cargo hold the old way.”

  “We’ll take as long as we need to,” I decided. “We don’t have anything pressing, and I think Cedroc might be on restricted duty for a bit.”

  Sure, we could all pull a shift at the helm, if need be.

  But Cedroc was a damn master at it.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to complete a systems test sometime before tomorrow morning?” I asked Kyre.

  “Absolutely. Once the Doc gets me stitched up, I’m on it,” he reassured me.

  “How’re the guns looking?” I asked, turning my attention to Derrix.

  His eyes were a little glazed over, but he responded quickly enough that I wasn’t worried.

  “One sustained heavy damage, but the other five are still operational. I’ve already put in the request for parts to get the damaged one running,” he said. “Would be faster if the teleport was working, though.”

  “Thanks, Derrix. I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered.

  Once I’d spoken to every crew member, I returned to the bridge and took a seat in the captain’s chair. A beam had come down near my cabin in the firefight, and while I had temporary quarters assigned on the Walkandro, it wouldn’t be the first night I’d slept sitting up.

  I stretched my long legs out in front of me and folded my hands behind my head, creating a cradle against the headrest for my curved horns.

  I couldn’t help but curse whoever designed this ship.

  It wasn’t a Vaznik, that much I knew. If it had been, more accommodations would have been made for our anatomy, that’s for sure.

  Whenever I got enough money to build my own ship, I was going to make damn sure the chairs conformed to the horns of every one of my crew.

  My eyes lingered for a moment on the massive viewport before me.

  Outside, the Milky Way was burning and alive.

  Meteors raced through the dark sky, sprinkling the frozen vacuum with even more shards of ice. I couldn’t help but pause for a moment to take it all in.

  In all the time I’d spent out here, I’d never tired of the infinite wonder of space.

  Pluto was the only dwarf planet in Earth’s solar system and was also the farthest away from its only sun.

  It was the perfect location for stationing the mobile hub, convenient, but not close enough to set off Earth’s alarm bells.

  The small amount of light that did reach this far orbit was muted and barely visible, but enough to set the tiny planet sparkling far below our orbit. It was eerily beautiful and even though I wanted to get my ship away from this hunk of ice as fast as possible, I couldn’t help but appreciate the frigid beauty of it all.

  The blaring of the comms system interrupted the peaceful moment.

  As usual.

  “Captain Rekker?” a gravelly voice demanded. “If he’s not there, get him on.”

  Thank the void the comms was audio only.

  “I’m here, Commander Strygan.” I tore my eyes from the glittering mountains. Strygan might not be able to see me, but I was certain he’d sense any lapse in attention. “Was there a problem with my report?”

  “No, not at all. From all signs, looks like the Suhlik are running scared. Maybe we’ll have a break from them for a while.”

  “That would be nice, sir.” But not likely.

  “You mentioned the damaged cannon and teleport. Anything else structural? Anything major?”

  And . . . that was strange. Commander Strygan wasn’t exactly known for checking up on his officers. He assumed we’d get in, get the job done, and get out.

  Repairs weren’t really his focus.

  “No, sir,” I answered without asking about anything else. I might be curious, but I wasn’t stupid. “My engineer reports that we’ll be able to leave in a day, possibly two, tops.”

  “Good, good.”

  The old man was working his
way around to something. I just didn’t know what.

  “I’m planning on sticking around the Walkandro for a day to fix the gun and give the crew some rest before we take off for the homeworld,” I reported.

  “Actually, I have another mission in mind for you and your team,” Strygan said.

  My face fell. I had been looking forward to returning home—we hadn’t been back in months.

  “Is this an offer or an order, sir?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.

  “A little bit of both,” he said.

  “You’ve got my attention.”

  There wasn’t really any choice, but I was starting to get curious.

  “It’ll be an order if you refuse, Rekker, but after hearing the details, I think you’ll agree to take it,” he said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s a retrieval mission. If you and your team complete it successfully, you’ll earn a two week furlough, as well as striking a blow the Suhlik aren’t expecting,” Strygan told me.

  My team had just gone through hell and I wanted to decline, but I knew every single one of us could use a break.

  “Just yesterday, the main comms team deciphered chatter on the Suhlik channels about an ancient and powerful device. We’re not yet sure what it’s for, just that it’s important. If they want it, we can’t let the Suhlik retrieve it before we do. We have the location, and the comms crew is trying to decipher the rest of the message now.”

  “What’s the catch?” I wondered.

  “I haven’t finished.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  I was pretty good at taking orders, but I was also no stranger to getting ahead of myself.

  “The catch is that the device seems to be located in a cluster of planets in a relatively uncharted area. We don’t know what’s out there, other than what appears to be three large gaseous planets with four moons orbiting each, as well as two dwarf, moonless planets. You’d be going in pretty much blind,” he explained.