by Leslie Chase
Alien Reindeer
A Winter Starr
Starr Huntress
Leslie Chase
The Alien Reindeer’s Christmas Package
Starr Huntress
http://starrhuntress.com
Editing by Sennah Tate
Copyright 2019 Leslie Chase
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Foreword
1. Megan
2. Dhannar
3. Megan
4. Dhannar
5. Megan
6. Dhannar
7. Megan
8. Dhannar
9. Megan
10. Dhannar
11. Megan
12. Dhannar
13. Megan
14. Dhannar
15. Megan
16. Dhannar
17. Megan
18. Epilogue
Other Winter Starr Books
Are you a STARR HUNTRESS?
About Leslie Chase
Sci Fi Romance by Leslie Chase
Paranormal Romance by Leslie Chase
Foreword
The authors of Starr Huntress were given a challenge: give readers a reindeer shifter in your holiday story. We all agreed to call our shifters "reilendeer" and decided they bring good cheer to the world around them... and then we went crazy! You might notices differences about the world and abilities of the reilendeer from story to story, and that's because each author has put her own spin on the challenge. Now it's time to grab your eggnog, cuddle up by the fire, and enjoy these steamy alien shifters.
1
Megan
Under the fresh layer of snow the twisted wreckage of our planetary defense cannon looked almost peaceful. Sunlight glittered off the pristine white fields beyond, and I tried to appreciate the beauty of the view. It wasn’t easy while the shadow of an alien warship fell across our colony. A week had passed since the invaders arrived, dropping into Nicholasville without warning, blowing our automated defenses to kingdom come.
I kept my back to the ship and the colony, looking out at the whiteness stretching from the colony to the forest at the horizon. The invaders’ arrival brought misery and despair, wrecking the colony’s festive atmosphere, and I’d take any chance to forget about them for a few minutes.
Snow crunched behind me and I tensed, fearing that one of them had come for me. But no — I recognized the footsteps and relaxed again.
“Be careful, Megan,” my mother said, doing her best to sound calm as she stepped up next to me. She would have fooled most people, but not me. I appreciated the effort anyway. “You don’t want the aliens to see you taking a break. Wait for tonight: it’s Christmas Eve, we’ll have a nice time as a family and ignore them.”
Easier said than done. The green-furred invaders did their best to make it impossible, taking or destroying every visible sign of Christmas without explanation. Some colonists had objected, and their punishments were harsh enough to convince the rest of us not to stick our necks out.
From the start, they’d made it their mission to make our lives miserable. Forced labor, reduced rations, and absolutely no festivities allowed. Cruelty without purpose, just to make us suffer. If Mother had hoarded enough supplies for even a basic Christmas dinner, I’d be impressed.
Mind you, underestimating Carol Wilson was a mistake many had made and regretted. As her daughter I knew that better than most, even if I still fell into the trap sometimes.
“Fine,” I said, shivering and turning. “I can’t stay out here forever.”
Mom was right: standing still out where the aliens might see me was a stupid risk. Our conquerors had a nasty habit of finding something for idle humans to do, even if it was pointlessly hauling rock from one side of the colony to the other and back. No rest for us captives.
I looked around, back towards the spaceport. There was one of the bastards: six-foot-tall, bulky and covered in matted fur, tiny red eyes glaring out of a green face. Tusks protruded from his lips, his jowls sagged, and his lips twisted into a sneer when he spotted us. The aliens didn’t really remind me of anything from Earth, but if I had to pick a comparison, it would be a pig. A furry pig, wearing a dark red uniform and a bad attitude.
Attention from one of them was the last thing I wanted, so I turned away. Mom took my arm and pulled me along, walking faster.
“Don’t look at him, Megan,” she hissed. “You know what happened to Gwen.”
“No, Mom, I don’t,” I replied, fighting the urge to glance behind us. “No one does. She just vanished into that ship.”
My voice rose and Mom’s hand tightened on my elbow, gripping hard enough to make me wince even through my thick coat. I took the hint and shut up. The aliens had excellent hearing, as more than one human learned to their dismay when they’d complained about conditions since the invasion.
Mom kept her voice low. “They won’t be here for long. The governor got off a distress call to Earth before they took over the assembly.”
Wonderful. I kept my sarcasm to myself, but her attempts to comfort me fell flat. It’s a three-week flight from Earth at best. No one’s going to turn up and save us for a while yet.
“We’ll keep our heads down until the marines arrive,” I said instead, playing along. Mom nodded, but I hadn’t fooled her either. Neither of us was much comfort to the other — we knew each other too well.
“Let’s get home,” she said. “No point in you staying out here and getting put to work. Not on Christ—”
Mom cut herself off halfway into the word. The aliens hadn’t turned up the week before Christmas by coincidence, and they’d been rounding up whatever signs of the holidays they found. Before the invasion, most of the houses had at least some Christmas decorations up. Now, the street looked brutally empty.
All gone now, taken by the aliens along with the presents and trees from our homes. A lot of colonists wouldn’t even say the word in case it attracted trouble.
I thought we’d gotten away with it, but then a rough shout interrupted us.
“You two. Stop.” The alien’s heavily accented voice froze the blood in my veins and for a crazy moment I considered running. Pointless when there was nowhere to go — hiding in Nicholasville was futile, and it was the only settlement on Faraway.
Mom recovered first, pulling a convincing smile from somewhere and turning to face the invader.
“Yes, sir?” She spoke with the precisely calibrated politeness that was her way of dealing with annoyances she couldn’t afford to be rude to. “Is there a problem?”
The pig-faced invader crunched closer, waddling through the snow. My eyes flickered to the weapons at his belt: a big knife, an agonizer, and a bulky blaster pistol.
On the first day of the occupation, they’d shot a hole straight through a cow to show off their weapons. I swallowed, remembering the awful sight and trying not to think about what would happen to a human body hit by one.
“Where are you going?” His voice was harsh, demanding, unfriendly. Nothing unusual there. He put his hand on the butt of the agonizer and I winced. We all had too much experience of the neural weapons and the pain they brought.
“To collect shovels, sir,” Mom said, lying with a calm ease I envied. The tension in her fingers was the only sign of her fear. “We’re to shovel the snow off the road.”
The pig-man gr
umbled under his breath, horrible red eyes looking me over. I swallowed nervously, looking down at my feet and trying to sink into the ground.
“You come with me.” It took a second for me to understand he was speaking to me and I didn’t know how to respond. My instinctive objection died on my lips as the alien caressed his agonizer.
Mom and I exchanged panicked glances, but the alien didn’t give us time for goodbyes. Grabbing my shoulder, he pulled me away and shoved me towards the spaceport. His smirk grew, an unpleasant, satisfied expression, and he walked taller now. As though he drew strength from our suffering.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, stumbling through the snow. Stupid question when the ship hung ahead of us, an ugly gray-green brick. Stolen decorations hung from it, and they did nothing to improve the ship’s look. Who wanted a warship with tinsel wrapped around the gunport? Why had they nailed a Christmas tree to the prow?
Maybe I’m about to find out. That was the only positive I saw in this situation, so I clung to it.
The alien didn’t bother to respond to my question, just pushing me along. I looked back at Mom, trying to tell her I’d be okay. She watched with horror, and no wonder. Only one human had set foot aboard the ship, and no one had seen Gwen since.
So things can’t get any worse if I fight back, I told myself, looking for a bright side. Far too optimistic, the rational part of my mind insisted. Whatever the aliens had in store for me, there was no reason to think they couldn’t make it less pleasant.
I told that inner voice to shut the fuck up. Frustrated by a week of occupation, by the incomprehensible demands of our attackers, by the fact that they seemed set on ruining Christmas, I refused to take this lying down.
Not that I had the first idea how to resist. My eyes flicked around the spaceport as my captor shoved me inside, past the pair of alien guards at the gate.
The warship floated above the landing field, casting a black shadow. I’d never been this close to it before, and it looked even more ridiculous than I’d expected. Baubles hung from every surface, every decoration taken from Nicholasville used whether they fitted or not. And oh, they did not.
It was the most garish and tasteless thing possible. Why anyone would do such a thing to their own ship I couldn’t imagine.
“Move,” my captor grunted, shoving me again. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.
In the cold shadow of the ship, I turned and glared at him. Somewhere on the walk I’d run out of fucks to give. “Why? Where are you taking me? What the hell is this?”
“Christmas,” Pigface said, a nasty grin on his lips. “We come to celebrate Christmas.”
I opened my mouth, shut it again, tried to make sense of that statement. If this was how they spent the holidays, they’d missed the point by a lightyear.
“You’re meant to give presents at Christmas, not steal them,” I said, incredulous.
My captor laughed, a horrible wet sound. “Humans! So foolish, giving away everything. Christmas is when we take good things. Give only to the strongest.”
I almost asked him where the ‘things’ would come from, if his people all wanted to receive presents but not give any. A stupid question — they were taking ours. I shook my head and asked a more pressing question instead. “What do you need me for, then? You’ve already got all my Christmas gifts.”
Another disgusting wet chuckle. “I still want to give something nice to the Commander. He likes pretty things, and you’ll amuse him.”
The blood drained from my face. Nothing had prepared me for that answer — the aliens might have attacked us, stolen from us. Even disappeared people for no reason we could understand. But somehow, slavery still came as a surprise.
It shouldn’t have been a shock, but it was. I took a step back, head spinning and mouth dry, gathering the energy to run. Pointless, but I had to do something.
“No fu—” I started, before the world dissolved into the shimmering lights of a teleport beam.
“—king way,” I finished, addressing an empty room. Damn it. Teleporters were cheating.
Grimy greenish walls surrounded me, stained with rust. Maintenance obviously wasn’t a priority for the crew. The blocky, rectangular design carried through to the inside, giving the space a cramped and uncomfortable feel.
A control panel on the wall stood unattended, and for a crazy moment I considered trying to beam myself down. Stupid — with no idea of how the teleporter worked, I’d be as likely to scatter my atoms across the universe as to get myself home.
But that might be better than what the aliens had in mind. While I looked at the controls, trying to decide, the door slid open with an unhappy grinding noise. I spun to face it, expecting to see another alien. My hands balled into fists, determined to fight for my freedom even if I didn’t have a chance.
“Megan!” I blinked, mental gears grinding as I tried to adjust to an unexpected sight. “Megan, it’s me, Gwen!”
Gwen Massey, the disappeared colonist girl. Missing, presumed dead or worse. She stood in the doorway, a pile of fabric in her hands, wearing a nondescript green outfit.
Thinner than when I’d last seen her, dark circles under her blue eyes, blonde hair unkempt, but she didn’t look injured. Her eyes betrayed fear and her voice quavered, but even so I took strength from her appearance. This might not be as bad as I’d feared.
“I thought you were dead,” I said, rushing forward to embrace her. We hadn’t been friends, exactly, but the colony was small enough that we all knew each other.
Gwen dropped her bundle and hugged me tight, holding on as though I was the only piece of flotsam that might keep her afloat. “I didn’t think I’d ever see a human again.”
Harsh alien words spoke from thin air and she flinched in my arms, looking up and replying in the same language.
“I’m sorry Megan, we have to hurry,” she said, pulling back from my arms. Her face had paled, and she refused to meet my eyes. “They’ll be angry if we don’t.”
I swallowed, mouth dry. “What’s the plan? No one told me what’s going on.”
“I’m supposed to get you ready for the Commander,” Gwen said, gathering up the bundle of cloth. Her voice trembled at that, and a rush of anger filled me. But what the hell was the point? The only target here was Gwen and fighting her would just be hitting another victim. It wouldn’t save me.
Instead, I crossed my arms and stepped back against the wall of the cell. “Nope. No way. I might be stuck here but they can’t make me cooperate, and neither can you.”
Gwen flinched at that. “Trust me, they can. The agonizers they carry aren’t just for show, and you don’t want a first-hand demonstration. If don’t get you changed, it won’t just be you they zap.”
I blinked, unsure how to deal with that. Fuck. I didn’t want to get another human in trouble. Especially not when it wouldn’t even help me.
But I refused to go along with this. I shook my head. Gwen turned away, looking down.
“I tried,” she muttered, hitting buttons on the control panel.
Shimmering lights surrounded me again for a second, then faded, taking my clothes with them. I squeaked in shock, clutching at my naked body as my cheeks burned.
Like I said, teleporters are cheating.
The outfit Gwen offered was ridiculous, but it was better than nothing — and those were my only options. Christmas-themed pieces of thin fabric, modeled after wrapping paper, gaps between them showing off skin. Ribbons tied around my body, bows planted strategically to make the display more appealing.
It wasn’t easy to get a good look at myself, which was for the best. I looked like a present ready for unwrapping, down to the tag looped around my wrist with alien writing on it. Perhaps it said who was giving me to whom, but the harsh, angular squiggles meant nothing to me.
That didn’t bother me. I had no intention of being a present to this ‘Commander’ anyway. There had to be some way out of this disaster, and I’d find it. Somehow.
&
nbsp; “Good enough?” I asked Gwen. She examined me, fidgeting with the ribbons one last time before stepping back.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish there was something I could do.”
You could help me stab the bastards. I bit back the words. One look at Gwen’s shaking hands made it clear the aliens had broken her spirit, and it wasn’t fair to blame her for that. It would be easier if I could, but no. None of this was her fault.
“Come on, we’d better get you to the rest of the Commander’s presents,” she said, leading me out into the corridor. More of the same rust-stained metal, stretching along the length of the ship. I followed her unsteadily — because of course this outfit came with heels too high for comfort.
None of the aliens showed themselves as we walked. They must all be busy searching for loot or victimizing people, I thought bitterly, trying to concentrate on keeping my balance. It had been a long time since I’d worn heels, and the textured metal decking wasn’t an ideal surface to walk on.
Gwen hurried, head bowed, shoulders hunched as though scared of being seen by someone. Every step we took, I felt a little worse about my fate. A little more determined to escape, or at least try to. Gwen might have resigned herself, but I’d go down fighting. If I could figure out how to fight, anyway.
The corridor ended in a large hatch that slid open at Gwen’s approach, opening into what had to be the ship’s cargo compartment, and I stopped on the threshold to gawp. I’d thought the outer hull of the warship looked bad, but this?
