Her Alien Alpha (Salvaged Hearts Book 1)

by Leslie Chase

  My pack followed, exchanging fire with any Imperials who found enough courage to fight back. None of the firefights lasted long, but they still slowed us. The deck shook under my feet, evidence of the battle outside — and a warning.

  Sooner or later the fleet action would be decided. Either we’d win, and this ship would die, or the Empire would triumph. In that case, we’d have nowhere to flee to and even Caibar would lose eventually.

  Either way, we had a time limit. Every second the Imperials delayed us lowered our chance of success, and with it the chance we’d find our way home.

  “We’re too slow, Delkor,” Mykor growled, echoing my thoughts. “The Archives will be gone.”

  I snarled back at him. Ever since he joined the pack, Mykor had tried to claim the alpha position from me. Under the Empire, he’d been restrained by military protocol. Now that we were free, there was nothing to hold him back.

  Nothing except the fact that I’d handed him his head in our first fight. The angry scar I’d left across his face ought to remind him who was in charge, but he never stopped pushing.

  “We can’t rush,” Termek said. His mechanical eyes whirred, seeing into spectra invisible to the rest of us. “Security is still tight, and if we run into something before I spot it, we’re all dead.”

  Mykor snarled something but backed down. I nodded my thanks, unsure if Termek would notice. His gaze was on those realms of data and energy that only he saw. My quarrel with Mykor would keep.

  “We all want to reach our females,” Qursek said. His voice boomed nearly as loud as the plasma cannon built into his arm. An Imperial voidman peeked around a corner, gun coming up, and Qursek annihilated him without breaking stride. “Delkor has led us right so far, I will not rush him now.”

  Our destination was close, and I felt the temptation to hurry. Our rebellion against the Empire had taken everything out of us, and if we didn’t win this prize it would all be for nothing.

  No. Not nothing, I reminded myself fiercely. Dying free of the Empire is better than living as its slave. But if we can’t return home, can’t rescue our females, it will be a tragedy.

  I refused to let my doubts show. The others relied on me for leadership, for guidance. And if they realized I wasn’t sure that they’d get the prizes they sought, the pack would splinter. I wouldn’t be able to protect them all.

  The Imperial Archive sat at the core of the ship, the most protected area of the Golden Duke Lyian. The gigantic ship shuddered under our feet, taking hits in the battle that raged outside. More pressure — the ship’s shields would fail soon, and if we were still aboard we’d be killed by our own allies.

  “Through the wall,” Termek said, pointing. Qursek’s cannon roared almost before he’d finished speaking, wide beam plasma tearing a gap in the metal and superceramic bulkhead. Mykor dove through the hole, a pistol in each hand blazing, and I followed to find a trio of Imperial guards on the far side dead, neat holes drilled through their heads.

  We might have our differences, but no one could say that any of my pack didn’t pull their weight.

  More guards ahead, all of whom went down to our combined fire. The rest of the pack followed through the gap and we pressed forward to the Archive door.

  The ship rocked with impacts, fire spreading through it and alarms blared. We didn’t have much time. My cybernetic instincts screamed that the ship wouldn’t last long, that the fleet outside was coming apart. Even if we got the information we were after, we might not make it off the ship in time.

  Termek extended a jack from his wrist, driving it into the Archive’s lock. A squeal from the computer and we were in. White walls, calm music, and towering computer monoliths — the Golden Duke Lyian carried an immense amount of data, and even the Empire’s experts couldn’t compress it smaller than this room. My implants objected as I crossed the threshold: no Caibar warrior should ever be in here. Failsafes activated when I ignored the warnings, trying to inject poison into my heart.

  I grinned. The venom sacs were empty, defanged when we began our revolt.

  “Stop!” A high-pitched Imperial voice met us, echoing from behind the computers. I recognized the voice and bared my teeth in a hunter’s grin. Duke-Admiral Herrian pe-Voltraic Lonsuise, once our lord and master, now our sworn foe. An unexpected bonus of this raid.

  A ghost of an instinctive deference tickled at my mind. For too long, I’d been unable to hear or see an Imperial noble without being overwhelmed by awe.

  But I’d torn out that implant, and the hijacking of my instincts with it. The Imperials had used our mating bond to enslave us, and that was reason enough to slay them all.

  “Another step and I blow the Archive,” he shouted, voice echoing. “I will not let it fall into rebel hands.”

  His voice trembled and I grinned. “Do that and you die. A pack of Caibar warriors is here, Your Grace, and the Archive is all you have to bargain with.”

  “Are you really going to bargain with him?” Mykor hissed, outraged. I gestured for silence, taking another step forward.

  “I warned you,” the Duke-Admiral squealed. “Stay back.”

  But he didn’t fire. That’s the problem with holding a single hostage — you can’t destroy the only leverage keeping you alive.

  “You know what we want,” I said, projecting calm. The rest of the pack spread out, and we slipped into the maze of computer architecture. “Give it to us and we’ll let you go. Get to the escape pods and live. If you’re right and our rebellion is doomed, you won’t lose anything.”

  Frantic whispers from behind the monoliths. Lonsuise wasn’t alone back there, and some of his companions were trying to talk sense into him.

  “This is a sacred trust,” he shouted, silencing the whispered discussion. “I will destroy the archive before I let it fall into the wrong hands.”

  Burran raised his rifle, adjusting the settings carefully. I nodded to the sharpshooter, gestured to the others to spread out. Our implants linked the pack, and every time he spoke, Lonsuise fed us more information on his location.

  “All we want is the location of Home,” I said. “Give us that and we’ll leave.”

  A reasonable request, but the Imperials were anything but reasonable. Good — I’d have honored the deal if he’d taken it, but preferred to see his blood spilled on the deck.

  “Surrender,” he called back, voice recovering its strength. No matter how bad his situation, a life of having others cower and kneel before him gave him confidence he didn’t deserve. “Surrender and live, return to service. The Emperor is your loving father and will forgive all.”

  “Oh yes,” Joster said, laughing. “In his infinite mercy he’ll forgive us, hijack our instincts again, and send us into battle until we die. No thanks.”

  Burran’s finger gently squeezed the trigger, and his rifle spat a bolt of energy into hyperspace. He’d calculated the distance precisely, and the other end of the hyperspace channel opened on the far side of the computer. The bolt snapped into the man hiding behind it without damaging the monolith, and the Duke howled. It was easy to forget what a Caibar sharpshooter was capable of — so few of their targets survived to talk about the experience.

  But the Duke’s scream faded into a litany of curses and Burran snarled, frustrated. Imperial technology was like magic, Burran’s rifle was a thing of beauty, and Burran himself was an artist with it. But judging a shot that wouldn’t harm the Archive and would kill the Duke was beyond even his abilities.

  We leaped into action, my pack moving as one. In moments like this we showed why the Empire put so much effort into keeping our services — in all of space you’d find no deadlier warriors.

  Mykor’s pistols snapped shots that looked wild, but each stopped in an Imperial body. The rest of us closed for melee, the Duke’s guards too slow to stop us. The Duke-Admiral himself fled cursing, one arm hanging limp. Burran’s shot had torn a bloody hole in his shoulder.

  I flung a knife after him, but one of his lackeys
leaped into the way, taking the blade as his master vanished from the room. I cursed, resisting the urge to chase wounded prey. Our mission mattered more than one nobleman’s life, no matter how hated.

  Resistance melted away as soon as the Duke-Admiral left the room. Some Imperials fled, most of them not making it out of the Archive chamber before being gunned down. The few who escaped wouldn’t return, I judged.

  As soon as the chamber was secure, Termek plugged himself into the Archive. His body stiffened and his cybereyes glowed red as he battled the encryption system, a cable linking his brain to the machine. The rest of us fanned out, covering both doors and ready to keep anyone from interfering with Termek’s work.

  “How long?” Mykor growled.

  “As long as it takes,” I answered. “Termek is good, but this is an Imperial Archive. Don’t distract him asking for updates.”

  He snarled but shut up. Just as well, because I felt the same tension. Home waited for us, along with the females who’d be our fated mates, but only if Termek got through. The battle outside gave him a harsh deadline.

  I tried to get a feel for that battle, my implanted computers dragging what information they could from the communications flashing between ships. Disinformation, jamming, and general chaos kept me from getting an exact idea of what was going on, but it looked like we were winning. The Golden Duke Lyian’s hull had torn open in places, its main guns no longer fired, and more hits tore into it through its wavering shields.

  I swore silently. Even this ship wouldn’t last long under this much punishment. As though to emphasize that, a shower of sparks erupted from the computer banks and the walls flashed from white to an angry red.

  “Warning. Critical damage. Hull integrity failing.” Somehow the recorded voice managed to sound calming and urgent at the same time. “All crew to your designated emergency positions.”

  My implants, still holding the programs from our time serving the Empire, flagged a route for us. Not to the escape pods, those were reserved for our Imperial masters. Caibar warriors like my pack should perform crowd-control and die in defense of our overlords. We were not expected to survive losing a battle.

  Fuck that. We’re free now, and I will not lose my pack today.

  “Termek, schematics,” I called. “Directions to the nearest escape pods.”

  “What?” Mykor’s shouted challenge drowned out Termek’s acknowledgment of my order. “This is our only chance. We can’t abandon it now.”

  “If we stay, we die. There’s no time to break the encryption.” I wheeled to face him, snarling into his face. He didn’t back down, eyes glinting red with rage. “If we die here, we lose everything. We have to survive so we can return to salvage this wreck.”

  “And if the Archive is destroyed?” Mykor’s voice dripped anger and tension.

  “Then there are other Archives,” I reminded him, struggling to keep my own temper. “Staying here won’t save this one.”

  A Caibar in battle rage isn’t easily swayed by reason. Mykor’s muscles tensed, implanted servos whirred, and he bared his fangs. This close to each other, victory in a fight would probably go to whoever attacked first — there wouldn’t be time to react.

  Burran broke the tension. “Delkor, Mykor, we have to go. Argue later, survive now.”

  Our standoff lasted a moment longer and then, by unspoken agreement, we both turned away. We hadn’t settled anything, just put off the inevitable fight. I’d have to deal with Mykor’s challenge soon.

  Fine. As long as we live to see that. Termek routed a path through the ship to our displays and it hung before my eyes.

  “Joster, bring up the rear,” I ordered, setting off along the glowing path my implants displayed. My voice sounded distant, reedy, in the thinning air. The Golden Duke Lyian’s damaged hull leaked, and the repair systems no longer compensated. A very bad sign.

  It brought us one advantage — no Imperials barred our way. They treasured their lives too much, even those who had the stomach to face Caibar warriors in battle. No one can out-shoot vacuum.

  When we reached the evacuation chamber, half the pods had already departed. Probably carrying the Duke-Admiral and those of his court who’d made it this far. I snarled, metal claws extending unconsciously. If fate loved me, I’d have another chance to tear that bastard’s heart out.

  “We will never meet our mates now,” Mykor growled, baring his fangs and breaking my reverie. “You fucked us all, Delkor.”

  I snarled into his face, refusing to back down. “There will be other ways to find our homeworld — so long as we live. For now, that’s what matters. Into the escape pods, all of you.”

  Burran and Joster needed no convincing. Before I’d finished speaking, they were hauling open pods, checking the settings and prepping six of them for launch. Qursek watched, scratching his head.

  “The battle?” He sounded dubious. “I don’t think it’s going well.”

  “We can’t do anything to help,” Termek said. “The Golden Duke’s losing power, there are fires everywhere.”

  The pods were too tight for any of us, designed for the smaller Imperials. With a grimace, I pulled off my combat armor. The rest followed my example — it was the only way a Caibar would fit. Qursek, by far the largest of us, frowned as he tried to fit into the tiny space. The cannon mounted on his arm made that difficult, and the lid wouldn’t close.

  “Be still, brother,” I said, turning to help him and seeing the doubts in his eyes. “We’ll live, and find our homeworld. No matter what.”

  Behind me, Mykor snorted. “No thanks to you, alpha.”

  He made the title a curse. Without giving me a chance to respond he lay back in a pod, letting it close around him. His eyes flickered shut as the stasis field activated, and then he was gone, fired into space like a shell from a cannon.

  Qursek shook his head. “That one will be trouble.”

  “Let me worry about him,” I said, pushing the giant back down. He had to hunch over to fit, his gun arm at an awkward angle, but we found a position that worked. After a struggle, I leaned all my weight onto the door and it clicked.

  Instantly, the pod shot down the track toward space and safety. Or the closest thing to safety we’d find in this battle, anyway.

  One by one, my brothers fired themselves into space. I stayed till last, looking back at the halls of the ship that had been both my home and my prison. Trained instincts told me to stay, to defend it to my death, but that was the past. My life, my fate, and my mate waited for me in the future.

  I stepped into the escape pod, took a deep breath, and tried to remember Home. Only impressions remained: vast trees reaching into a perfect blue sky. Villages that spanned the treetops, high above the deadly predators below.

  The Imperial raiders, coming to take us away. My jaw tightened, enhanced muscles seeking a foe to tear apart. I will go home, and I will see the end of the Empire.

  The pod closed over me, too tight, and the stasis field activated. Darkness closed around me, the deep sleep from which I would not wake until someone opened the pod.

  That’s it, I realized. That’s where I am. Asleep in the pod, kept alive and waiting to be found.

  5

  Carrie

  “For the tenth time, Carrie,” Alice said with a fond roll of her eyes, “we’re not waking the alien just because you’re desperate for some dick.”

  My cheeks heated, and I bit back a response that would only have justified her concerns. She was joking, I knew she was joking, and I didn’t blame her for making fun of me. My thoughts about whoever it was in the pod had been embarrassingly obvious.

  “We’re almost at Nautilus station now, there’s no point anyway,” Lily added from the pilot’s seat. “He’d barely be awake long enough to speak to.”

  “Long enough to kill us and take the ship,” Michaela said. That had been her argument against opening the pod from the moment we found it, and I couldn’t fault it. I felt sure he wouldn’t attack us, but tha
t didn’t mean that I was right.

  “And if he’s injured, he might die before we can get him to a doctor who understands him.” Jen had a different, and more persuasive to me, argument. Sure, the blue alien didn’t look hurt, but for all we knew he had a knife buried in his back.

  “Fine,” I said, trying to sound good-humored about it. “Fine, sure, you’re right — and even if you weren’t, we had a vote. I’m not going back on that. You don’t have to gang up on me again.”

  Michaela snorted, Alice hid a grin, and Lily’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. At least my frustration helped morale — the crew had been teasing me about it the entire trip.

  “Coming in to land,” Lily said, breaking into my grumpy thoughts. “Brace for gravity shift.”

  A second later we passed through the shield holding in Nautilus’s atmosphere, and with it we came into the station’s gravity field. Suddenly everything had weight again and Munchkin yowled, his claws digging into my shoulder as he struggled to keep hold. He might have adjusted to space travel quickly, but a sudden change of gravity still confused and alarmed him.

  I gave his ears a scratch and offered a fragment of a ration bar. That calmed him down, fast enough that I wondered if he was playing me. Munchkin could be a sneaky little devil. He protested again when I pulled him from my shoulder and put him on the captain’s chair, though despite his resentful glare he still curled up in the warmth.

  “Sorry, Munchkin, I’ve got to go talk to the bad men again,” I said, petting him and offering another sliver of rations. The cat snatched it from my fingers, forgiving me as soon as I paid him tribute in food.

  “You spoil that cat,” Michaela said, folding her arms. I nodded, grinning.

  “After how those Drall assholes were treating him, he deserves a bit of spoiling,” I said, giving Munchkin one last stroke before heading for the exit. “Now let’s see about selling the pod before they come looking for our late payment.”