Alien Warrior's Bounty

by Lizzy Bequin

  Lorka has a point. We’re totally unarmed. I would give anything to have my spear right now, but Van Cleef and his cronies destroyed it along with my ship.

  I cross to the wall and brush my hand over one of the astro-crates. I can’t read the writing because it’s written in ugly Rothilian script. I work the fingers of my gauntlet under one of the lids and pry it back. Lorka stands on his tiptoes, and we both peer inside.

  “Jackpot,” Lorka chuckles.

  CHAPTER 32: CLARE

  My thighs are burning as I struggle to keep up with Rogar’s brother. He runs ahead, his broken chains jangling as he leads us down a dimly lit corridor in the palace. My exposed skin is dripping with sweat.

  Null-99’s severed, metal head is still tucked snugly in the crook of my arm.

  “Pardon me.” The damaged droid’s voice is stuttering and glitchy. “May I enquire where you are taking me?”

  “Shut up,” I snap.

  I nearly slam into Kozar’s back as he skids to a halt. Ahead of us is a junction of corridors, and when I listen closely, I can hear the clatter of running feet coming near.

  “Noopeesta,” the big purple alien hisses.

  He pulls me aside, and we duck into the shadows of a dark alcove. He holds his finger up to his lips, telling me to be silent. I press my palm over the speaker grate on Null-99’s scorched face, just in case the droid decides to pipe up again.

  After a few seconds, a squad of ratman guards hurry past in the direction of Lord Putrude’s throne room where the big gunfight just went down.

  Once the last of them has passed and the sounds of their boots fade into the distance, I heave a sigh of relief.

  “Mikaa tuo?” Kozar whispers, gesturing at the robot head.

  I gathered it up off the floor earlier in the hopes that it could act as an interpreter for us.

  “I need you to translate,” I whisper to Null-99, “but keep your voice down.”

  “My allegiance is to Captain Van Cleef,” the droid answers. “Why should I help you?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to have Rogar’s brother smash your head into a million little pieces. I may not speak his language, but I’m pretty sure I could get that message across to him.”

  Null-99’s eyes pivot sideways, taking in the alien’s hulking silhouette.

  “Fair enough,” The droid’s voice answers at a low volume. “What do you want me to tell him?”

  “Tell him that I’ve seen Rogar. I know where he is, and if we hurry, there may be a chance to save him.”

  While Null-99 translates, my mind drifts back to the last time I saw Rogar tied to that tree in the jungle, and my heart twists with pain. I can only hope that he’s still alive, that no predators have found him. I push that thought out of my head. Right now, I just have to focus on getting back to him.

  Kozar listens. After the droid is finished speaking, Kozar says something in a hushed voice.

  “He wants to know why you would help his brother. Rogar was your captor.”

  I’m glad that we’re enshrouded in shadows at the moment as it conceals the deep blush that is burning in my cheeks and at the tips of my ears.

  “Because I’m in love with Rogar,” I whisper.

  I leave out the fact that I might very well be carrying Rogar’s hybrid baby right now. Kozar doesn’t need to know every single little detail. After Null-99 translates my simple message, Kozar is silent, as if thinking.

  “Wait! Ask him how he knew Rogar was my captor,” I instruct the droid head.

  The whole situation is a bit perplexing. I’m not even sure why Rogar’s brother is here in the first place.

  As Null-99 translates, I come to understand what happened. For years, Kozar worked as a slave in the neutronium mines—whatever the heck those are. Later, when Lord Putrude decided he had the hots for me, he wanted to hire Rogar, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, to capture me and bring me here to Rothilian Primaris. But Putrude knew Rogar would be reluctant to work for him, so as an incentive, he purchased Kozar, and promised Rogar his brother’s freedom as soon as he completed the job.

  It goes without saying, that convoluted plan went a little sideways somewhere along the way.

  At last, Kozar asks one final question, which the droid translates.

  “Where is Rogar now?”

  That’s when my heart sinks.

  “I have no idea how to get back to that planet where Rogar and I crashed,” I say with a dejected sigh. “I don’t know what the planet is called—I don’t even know if it has a name.”

  A tear rolls down my cheek and lands like a raindrop on Null-99’s metal skull.

  “If I may make a suggestion, Madam,” the droid says. “I remember the route back to that planet. If you can get me back to Captain Van Cleef’s gun cutter, we can hijack it, and I can navigate you there again.”

  “You would do that?” I gasp. “Why?”

  “Van Cleef and Szelina have likely been killed or captured by now. If my head ends up in Lord Putrude’s possession, I’ll likely be melted down for scrap. It is now in my best interests to aid you in escaping. Besides, my model is rather infamous for having a defective loyalty processor.”

  I nod.

  “Fair enough. Can you get me back to the ship?”

  “Of course. I made a mental map of this complex as soon as we landed. First you’ll want to continue down this corridor to the junction up ahead.”

  I poke my head out to make sure the coast is clear, then I motion for Kozar to follow, and we set off down the corridor at a sprint. Our bare feet are stealthy on the smooth tiles of the floor.

  “Make a left up ahead,” Null-99 buzzes.

  I do as he says, but as soon as we swing around the corner, a roar from behind us freezes my blood.

  When I turn to look, I see Lord Putrude scuttling toward us on his eight legs, followed by a patrol of his rat soldiers. His layers of yellow flesh jiggle as he charges.

  Kozar leaps in front to protect me, but Putrude flicks out one bionic leg and swats the purple alien aside like nothing, flinging him into one of the many dark alcoves that line the corridor.

  I try to back away, but Putrude picks me up completely off the ground. His scrawny arms are deceptively strong. Null-99’s head drops from my grasp and clanks on the floor.

  This is it. I’m well and truly screwed now.

  Putrude has me in his clutches, and he’s pissed. His eyes are blazing with murderous hate. I have no doubt that he’s going to kill me.

  But as he smiles and sticks out that awful, oozing tongue, I realize he plans to do something else with me first.

  I scream. with every ounce of air in my lungs and every bit of energy in my body, I scream.

  Then I swing my foot up and forward, kicking Putrude in his flabby chin, and his jaw, with its rows of jagged teeth, slams closed on his tongue.

  CHAPTER 33: ROGAR

  A piercing shriek echoes down the corridor, and I know right away that it is Clare.

  There is terror in her scream, but there is something else there too—the sound of a furious woman warrior who has been backed into a corner and forced to fight for her life.

  Joy and fear battle each other in my heart—joy that I have found Clare and fear that I might be too late.

  But this is no time for feelings. Now is the time for action.

  “This way,” I shout, charging ahead with my laser cannon at the ready.

  I can hear the sound of Lorka’s little feet scampering after me. He is weighted down by his own massive laser cannon. It is far too big for him, but he insisted on arming himself when we found the crate full of weapons in that storage room.

  The echoes of Clare’s scream have not yet started to fade when another even louder sound follows them.

  It is an awful, bestial roar. I’m not sure what creature made the sound, but the feeling behind it is clear. It’s not terror. It’s not rage.

  It’s pain.

  As I come around the corner,
time seems to grind to a halt, and I take in the scene in front of me.

  The first thing I see is Clare. She is lying on the floor on her back where she has apparently just fallen. Beside her, a few feet away, is a bloody, nasty looking appendage. It is a tongue, and it belongs to the repulsive thing towering over Clare’s helpless body.

  It’s Lord Putrude himself, in the rancid yellow flesh. Dark blood is dripping down his chin, and I realize that must be from his own tongue. Did Clare somehow do that to him? It appears so, because Putrude clearly wants her dead.

  As I watch, Putrude lets out another terrible howl, and raises one of his bionic legs. Its pointed end is aimed straight at my mate like a spear.

  “Clare!” I roar.

  In a fraction of a second, I have aimed my cannon. The perfectly straight red beam projects down the corridor, blasting the bionic leg in a flash of light.

  Clare clambers away and huddles against the wall.

  Putrude scuttles backward, his eyes rolling wildly with fear.

  As I rush down the corridor, I fire another laser beam off. This time, I swing the rifle as I fire, slashing the beam across Putrude’s diseased belly. His flesh sizzles in a diagonal wound.

  Putrude’s tongueless mouth shrieks again, and he retreats backward, letting his rat guards take over. They raise the rifles.

  “Suck on this you mangy motherfuckers,” I gruff voice shouts at my side.

  It’s Lorka’s turn to unload. He fires his laser cannon, scything the red beam across the guards, and they are mowed down like grass. The few remaining survivors flee, following after Putrude, who is now scuttling away down the corridor. Lorka takes a few more carefully aimed shots, picking off two more guards before they disappear around a bend in the passage.

  “Clare!” I call out as I rush to my mate’s side.

  “Rogar?” she gasps, her pretty eyes widening with surprise. Then a big smile breaks across her face and she leaps to her feet. “Rogar, you’re alive!”

  My impulse is to wrap her up in my arms and squeeze her to me, but I remind myself that she might be hurt. However, the way she flings her arms around my neck and hugs me until it hurts assures me that she is fine.

  She nestles her face against my neck, and little drops of water splash onto my shoulder.

  “You came for me,” she whispers. “But…how?”

  “It’s a long story,” I answer. “I’ll tell you when we’re safe.”

  I notice a dark stripe on her shoulder where she was scorched by a blaster.

  “Little one, you’ve been shot.”

  She just shakes her head, blinking back her happy tears.

  “I’ll live. But Rogar…look.” She gestures toward a shadowy alcove.

  Something is moving in the darkness there, and I tense up, ready to aim my weapon at it, but Clare’s hand stills my arm. As the figure moves into the dim, dirty light of the corridor, my jaw drops inside my helmet.

  “Kozar?”

  He grins at me, that same bright devilish grin that he would flash when we were children, and he had been up to some major mischief.

  “Brother!” he laughs.

  As Clare looks on, smiling, I take him in a firm embrace. My heart is hammering with joy. Not only have I found my mate, but I’ve found my brother too.

  But a sound from below breaks the moment. It is Acquisitor Lorka clearing his throat.

  “I hate to intrude on this lovely reunion, but can we stow the hugs and kisses for when we’re all safely out of this hellhole?”

  I nod. The little Gavronian is right. We need to get to safety. More than anything else, I need to make my mate safe, and then we can celebrate.

  As I turn toward Clare, however, I see that she has scooped something off the floor, and now she is holding it in front of her.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  Clare nods. “It’s Null-99.”

  “Leave it behind,” I tell her. “The droid is an enemy. Now come on.”

  I toss my laser cannon to Kozar, who catches it with a grin. As a warrior, he’s happy, no doubt, to feel a deadly weapon in his hands once again. I take Clare by the arm, and we all start running down the corridor from the way we came.

  Clare, however, refuses to drop the enemy droid’s head.

  “Rogar, listen,” she insists. “Null-99 is going to help us escape. He says he can lead us back to his ship.”

  “We don’t need their ship,” I tell her. “We’ve got something much better. We—”

  Suddenly, a familiar voice shouts from the corridor in front of us.

  “Babuuu!”

  The thin alien is running toward us, its noodle-like arms waving wildly in the air and its lighted innards flashing bright red, almost like an emergency alarm.

  “Oh shit,” I mutter.

  “Babu?” Clare gasps. “Wait, what the eff is Babu doing here?”

  “Again, long story…”

  Babu skids to a stop in front of us, one wobbly arm gesturing down the hall. A moment later, a patrol of rat guards come racing around the bend. Kozar and Lorka mow them down immediately, leaving a heap of smoldering bodies and filling the hall with the repulsive smell of fried fur.

  But now we’ve got a big problem. Without Babu there to keep it open, I can only assume that the Webway portal has closed.

  I turn toward the droid head cradled in Clare’s arm.

  “All right, Null-99, today is your lucky day. Now where’s that ship? And if you try to pull one over on us, I’ll let my little purple friend take out his aggression on you.”

  Lorka hefts his laser cannon and sneers at the scorched metal head.

  “Understood,” the droid answers.

  Null-99 guides us through the winding labyrinth of Putrude’s palace. Somehow, we manage to avoid any more open confrontations, but as we near the landing hanger, I can hear the sounds of more guards chasing us from behind.

  “Hurry,” I shout, urging our little motley band forward as Kozar and Lorka fire a few shots behind us to keep our pursuers at bay.

  Van Cleef’s gun cutter is there waiting for us like a big metal bird of prey.

  I make sure Clare is up the ramp first and safely inside the ship. Then I motion the others inside—Babu, then Kozar, and last Lorka. I have to pick up the little Gavronian by his fur collar and drag him inside the ship while he fires his laser cannon at the guards and laughs maniacally.

  Once we’re all inside, I rush into the cockpit. I take the controls and Kozar takes the copilot’s seat while the others strap in on the bench behind us. The ship is similar to mine, and it only takes a moment to figure out the controls. We lift off and fly out of the hangar amid a flurry of blaster shots from the guards, which spark harmlessly off the spacecraft’s shields.

  I aim the ship skyward, and soon we have passed through the planet’s dark cloak of poisonous storms and into the void of space beyond. Null-99, or what’s left of him, provides the coordinates for the lost planet where Clare and I crashed, and we set off into hyperspace.

  We’ve done it. We’re free.

  I reach over and clasp my brother’s hand, and he grips me back fiercely. All those years in the neutronium mines have made him even stronger than me.

  “It’s good to have you back, brother,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

  “It’s good to be back.” He nods toward the back of the cockpit. “The human female is the one who saved me.” With a wink he adds, “she is quite fond of you, brother.”

  I unbuckle my harness and rise from my seat, turning. Then I drop to my knees in front of Clare. She unfastens her buckles and falls forward into my arms. For a few moments, we just hold each other.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

  She laughs, that bright, tinkling laugh like chimes or water over stones.

  “I can’t take all the credit. It was a team effort.”

  She sweeps her hand around the cockpit.

  We certainly are an unusual
crew. A pair of Mezentine warriors, a human female, a disembodied droid’s head, and Babu, whatever the heck he is.

  And one member of our team seems to be missing.

  Lorka’s seat is empty. From the outer chamber comes the sound of rummaging and clinking glass. A moment later, Lorka trundles back into the cockpit carrying a case of bottles which he plunks down in the middle of the floor.

  “Look what I found,” he chuckles, quite pleased with himself. “Genuine Gavronian wine!”

  He lifts one bottle from the straw padding of the crate and blows the dust off it.

  “Captain Van Cleef may have been a prick, but at least he had good taste when it came to his vices. Now, we’ve got some time to kill folks. I’d say this calls for a celebration.”

  CHAPTER 34: CLARE

  Rogar has taken off his armor except for his helmet. For the purposes of speaking, he has kept that on. He sits in the pilot’s seat, and I lounge in his lap, my tush nestled against his loincloth and my body enjoying the loose embrace of his scaled arms.

  Except for Kozar, everyone else is asleep. Null-99’s head has powered down to rest, Babu is balled up on the rear bench like a sleeping cat, and Lorka, Rogar’s little horned friend, is slumped against the empty case of wine snoring loudly.

  Our little celebration lasted many hours as we sailed through hyperspace.

  Lorka, being the most boisterous of our little crew, acted as the self-appointed master of ceremonies, popping open one bottle of wine after another and proposing increasingly extravagant toasts which Null-99 graciously translated for me.

  Incidentally, Lorka also did most of the imbibing, and his bearded face gradually turned from violet to a tipsy magenta as the party went on. He did, however, convince stern Rogar to drink a bit.

  I even tried some of the alien wine myself. It was strong but sweet, and it felt funny sliding down my throat. It didn’t take much of the stuff before I was feeling quite giggly.

  While Null-99 translated for me, Lorka regaled Babu with tales of past adventures. The mysterious, transparent being listened attentively, even though I assume it didn’t understand a single word. Occasionally, however, Babu would answer in that odd little language, which even Null-99 was unable to translate.