The Alien's Savior

by Ella Maven

  With a vicious kick, he sent the door flying off its hinges. It slammed into the opposite wall and when it splintered on impact, two unconscious Kulks were among the debris. Big hands grabbed me, hauled me over a dark blue shoulder, and then the walls were a blur. I’d thought Gar was fast before, but now that he was healed and rested, his speed was lightning fast. He raced down hallway after hallway, away from the shouts of guards. I couldn’t see much from my position, but a few times, he’d lash out with the hand that wasn’t holding me, taking down some guards with his machets and others with a vicious whip of his tail.

  I vowed never to get in the way of that thing. None of the other Drixonians used their tails in battle as effectively as Gar. He seemed to have more control over it, or maybe it was just stronger. Either way, he was able to smash an entire Kulk’s head against the wall with one lash of the appendage. It was magnificent.

  The violence didn’t bother me anymore. Not now I knew what the Kulks and Uldani were capable of. I’d seen Miranda’s bruised face from those armored bastards. If I had any sort of chance, I would have bashed a few skulls myself.

  Something about the hallway we were in caught my attention. I propped myself up as best as I could with my hands on his shoulders so I could see the direction we were going. Yep, I was right. I pounded on his shoulders. “Turn at your next right.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s something in there. Something I think you need to see. And lots of places to hide.”

  He didn’t slow down, and I glared, thinking he was ignoring me, but at the last minute he took the turn so sharply I groaned at the whiplash. He slid into the giant room where I’d first been caught.

  He dropped me on the floor, immediately took out two guards with slashes of his machets, and then slammed the door shut behind him. We listened, but no further sounds came from outside. The solar light that had been here before was rapidly losing its charge, as only a dull glow illuminated the bodies on the floor currently bleeding out. No sounds came from them, and I scrambled away on a frantic crab walk, holding down the bile that rose in my throat.

  I didn’t think anyone had seen us run in here, but it was only a matter of time before they searched this room and found two dead bodies. And us.

  We had to hide. I stood up on shaky legs and turned to see if the spacecraft was still there. Which of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be? “This is what I wanted to show you,” I gestured toward the very obvious object in the room. “Do you know what it is?”

  I turned to Gar to find him staring at it, his entire body still, every muscle tensed. The expression on his face was a mixture of awe and longing. In fact, I’d only ever seen him make that face right after he’d licked me to orgasm.

  But now, he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the spaceship. And I knew why when he finally spoke in a voice choked with emotion. “That’s a Drixonian stealth cruiser,” he said, his unblinking eyes coming to rest on me. “And I never thought I’d see one again.”

  Gar

  I could barely believe my eyes. There, in the middle of an underground cavern built by the Uldani was one of our cruisers. We’d thought they were all gone. It was the Uldani who transported us here in large cargo ships back when we made our bogus pact. We’d flown a few of our own spacecrafts—some cruisers like this one used for scouting missions and our infamous war ships. The rest remained on Corin.

  It wasn’t until the Uprising that we learned our ships, which the Uldani had promised they would keep safe, had been destroyed. We’d seen the charred remains as evidence. It was why we were trapped on Corin with no way back to our home planet.

  That had been my belief for over fifty cycles. And now, sitting in front of me, was proof it had all been a lie. Why did we believe anything the Uldani tried to get us to believe? And why was the cruiser here rather than at Alazar? I had so many questions and no answers. All I knew was that this was a massive revelation.

  “I didn’t know, obviously,” Naomi was saying as I worked to thaw the shock that had frozen my body. “I ran in here on my way in and saw it.”

  I quickly explained to her we thought they were all destroyed by the Uldani during the Uprising. “This changes everything,” I said. “Did you see anyone around it while you were in here?”

  “No,” she said. “How do you think they got it here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, striding toward the base as she jogged to keep up with me. “Only a Drixonian can operate our spacecraft.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I fumbled around the back of the circular craft, searching for the panel that would give me access to the entry pad. When I found it, scratches and dents marring the surface indicated it had clearly been tampered with. The Uldani had certainly tried to gain access to the ship, but they weren’t Drixonian. Any other species trying to board our ships were faced with an immediate shutdown of all systems. For the Uldani, this cruiser was nothing but a hunk of metal. For me, though, she’d come alive.

  I placed my palm on the center of the console and waited. I didn’t pray to Fatas, because I knew she’d never grant me a wish, but I did send up a plea for Naomi. Fatas had to provide her safety.

  For a moment, I worried the ship had no charge in its internal generator, but then a weak red light scanned my palm, and a soft click sounded throughout the cavern.

  “Holy shit,” Naomi breathed as the panel peeled back to reveal a small basin. Releasing my machets, I slashed at my wrist and held it over the bowl. A few drops of blood splattered on the surface, and then the recording of a husky female Drixonian voice, one I hadn’t heard since I was a chit, spoke. “Board now.”

  I could barely believe it. With a hiss, a door lowered underneath the ship, and I grabbed Naomi’s hand, tugging her along behind me as I ran up the platform. Once inside, I slammed my hand on a lever inside, the actions instinctual, and watched as the door closed, securing us inside the cruiser.

  I turned to Naomi, who gazed around the craft with wide eyes. “We’re safe in here,” I explained. “The Uldani can’t access it. Not without a Drixonian palm print and fresh blood.”

  She swallowed and promptly braced herself on the wall. “I think I need to sit down.”

  I yanked out a seat from the wall and placed her on it. Her legs dangled, not touching the floor, and she looked like a chit in the massive seat meant for a full-grown Drixonian warrior.

  I crouched in front of her and yanked the pouch of qua out of my pants. “Drink.”

  “Right,” she gasped, and lifted the pouch to her lips. After a few gulps, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and placed it back in my hand. “Your turn.”

  I wasn’t thirsty, but I drank a little anyway. Just so she didn’t argue with me.

  “Okay,” she said. “So, you’re saying we’re safe inside here.”

  I nodded. “They can’t see through these tinted windows. The walls also protect us from heat signature detection. A Drixonian scouting cruiser is one of the most secure crafts in the galaxy.”

  “I think I need a bit of a history lesson,” she said. “Weren’t you … young when you came here to work for the Uldani?”

  “By your human standards, maybe. But not ours. I’d been trained since I could walk for my place on a Drixonian warship as a warrior. I was always bigger and stronger than the other chits. Ward was the same, although he was already showing signs of becoming a squad leader. Daz was on track to train as a warship pilot, one of the most important positions in the entire Drixonian fleet. Sax was to be his co-pilot. Nero was training as a developer of the craft systems, while Xavy was to be a cruiser pilot.

  “Before the virus struck our planet, we’d already been in training. It was the Drixonian way. We knew our roles inside and out. It was only a matter of time before we grew into our bodies, which happens for Drixonians around ten to fifteen cycles.”

  Her eyes bugged. “You’re full grown at ten years?”

  “I’m not sure our yea
rs and cycles are comparable.”

  She bit her lip. “Yeah, maybe not.”

  Silence descended on us, and I reached out, intending to wipe off a streak of dirt on Naomi’s face, but she flinched away from me, startled. I quickly yanked back my hand and turned away, not wanting to see her disgust. I deserved that with the way I’d treated her. And I didn’t know how to fix it. I could describe battle strategies and Drixonian history but when it came to the complicated feelings knotted in my gut, I had no idea how to untangle them.

  I knew she was still angry, and I wanted to beg her forgiveness. I wanted to kiss her feet and worship the ground she walked on. But she’d made it clear my attentions were no longer welcome. And it was better that way, even if my very cora felt cracked and bruised from self-administered pain. That was nothing new.

  I focused on the dark control panel. Getting inside the cruiser on a weak charge was one thing, but could I actually make this craft come alive for me? I couldn’t imagine the power source still worked or enough fuel remained in the thrusters to get this thing off the ground. I squinted up through the dome covering. Even if I could get this thing in the air, all I had above me was dirt. A lot of dirt.

  The most pressing question was how they had gotten this ship down here. Because the entrance could also be an exit. Either way, I had to find out quickly. Soon, they would search this room and find the dead Kulks along with our footprints. We couldn’t hide in this ship forever as we had limited supplies. I had to get out, and I wasn’t leaving without Naomi or this cruiser.

  I sank down in the pilot seat and felt the arm rests made of antella leather. I wondered which long-lost Drixonian warrior had piloted this cruiser. Was he still alive? Had the virus taken him? I could still see worn places in the leather where he’d gripped the seat, claws digging into the padded surface. I ran my fingers over them, the knots tightening in my gut until my stomach rolled. So much death. So much loss. In the past, and in our future too.

  And for what? I heard a noise behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see Naomi picking up a small wooden doll that had been left on a shelf. I hadn’t meant to talk, but the words tumbled out as I watched her caress the small trinket. “It was common for warriors to take something of their chit’s for good luck on missions.”

  She jerked her head up, small rivers of tears running from her eyes to drip off her chin. Sniffling, she wiped her face on her shoulder. Carefully, reverently, she placed the doll back on the shelf and gazed at it. “I hope it brought the warrior luck.”

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  So much death. So much loss. But as I gazed at Naomi, I knew she was the reason. Her care, kindness, and heartfelt wish for an unknown warrior. Drixonian pride backed by the love of human females was the reason we still fought.

  “Get something to eat,” I said as softly as I could. “Rest. I need to work on the cruiser and find a way out of here.”

  I heard rustling behind me as I studied the control panel in front of me. The first task was breathing some life in the cruiser. I found the switch for the evergreen generator and turned it on. A low hum filled surrounded us, and main screen winked on, showing me that we had approximately six yoras for the generator to be at full power.

  For now, dim lights backlit the control panel in low-energy mode, and I checked the fuel levels as well as ran a few diagnostic tests. Fuel, as predicted, was low, but the ground thrusters—meant for in-atmosphere travel—were intact. The generator, once at full power, would enable the thrusters as well as the defensive laser rounds. As of now, I couldn’t do much but wait.

  It was only a brief time later when the soft mews of a sleeping Naomi filled the small space. I glanced over my shoulder to find her curled up on the floor using my leather pack as a pillow.

  I slowly crept from my seat and cracked my neck. She’d had to sleep on the floor last night, but I couldn’t let her do it again. I pulled down the small sleeping pad from behind a panel in the wall. Picking up Naomi with as much care as I could, I placed her on the bed and covered her with a scratchy woven covering.

  She murmured in her sleep and clutched the fabric up under her chin. When she settled, I sank down to the floor. I ran my palms over the metal panels of the cruiser, barely able to believe it was here. Then the reality hit me—if it weren’t for Naomi, I would have blown this cruiser to bits along with myself and all the Uldani and Kulks in this underground bunker. If she hadn’t shown up and messed up my plans, I never would have discovered the cruiser. Nero would have never forgiven me if he found out I’d blown up one of our space crafts.

  Was this a sign from Fatas? It couldn’t be—she’d already shown me my end. She’d already let me know why I deserved it. Maybe Naomi was here so I performed one last good deed. Getting her to safety and finding a way to place this cruiser back in the hands of the Drixonians.

  I watched her sleep, her dark lashes fanned over her pale, spotted cheeks. I had to apologize for the way I spoke to her. I had to show her that this discovery, for which she was responsible, meant everything. I couldn’t finish my mission until she knew just how special she was. To us. To me.

  Leaning my head back against the wall, I settled in to wait.

  Seven

  Gar

  She woke up slowly, wriggling under the blanket and smacking her lips before blinking her eyes open, staring at the wall blearily. Finally, she jerked to her elbow and looked around frantically, only relaxing when her gaze landed on me where I sat on the floor. Her eyes flicked to the control panel where the generator’s progress bar, about three-quarters finished, blinked on the screen. “Everything okay?”

  I nodded. “Did you sleep well?”

  She rubbed her eyes, looking almost like Bazel in the morning. “Um, yes.”

  I gave her a brief rundown of what I’d accomplished while she slept and what the progress bar on the screen meant.

  “Don’t you need to get some rest?” She sat up on the bed, and her short legs dangled off the side.

  I shook my head. “I have some things I’d like to say to you.”

  Her body tightened, and a brief flash of panic flitted across her features. “This sounds like you’re about to break up with me, which makes no sense because there’s nothing to break up.”

  I blinked at her in confusion. I wasn’t sure what a lot of those words meant.

  Sighing heavily, she waved a hand. “Just … say what you want to say.” Her body remained stiff, and she clutched the covering around her shoulders like it was a protective shield.

  I deserved that, her fear, especially after the way I’d treated her earlier.

  “I wish to redo the words we exchanged in that dark room,” I began.

  Her dark eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Redo?”

  “Yes, those words were not the ones I meant. So, we forget those happened and I’ll say the right ones now.”

  She snorted. “Um… Okay. I mean, you can do that, but words are like toothpaste. Once they’re out of the tube, you can’t get them back in.”

  I frowned at her. “Toothpaste?” Then I remembered. Drixonians had self-cleaning saliva, but the human females needed to use a sand mixture they’d made to keep their teeth from “falling out” as they’d said. But I didn’t understand her words about a tube.

  Once again sensing my confusion, she huffed. “I just mean … those words. They were already said. I can’t unhear them. And they hurt me.”

  I flinched. I’d known I’d hurt her but hearing her admit it was like a blade across my throat. “I regret what I said.”

  Her heat tilted to the side, and she watched me for a moment before hopping down off the sleeping tray and sitting down at my side, her legs crossed in front of her. She tucked the covering around her shoulders and peered up at me. “There, now I can see you better. Tell me what you want to say.”

  All the words I wanted to say felt jam packed in my chest. I’d kept them there, shoved into a deep hole, and I worried once I uncovered the top la
yer, they’d all fly out like a hunner swarm. But I had to do this. I had to make Naomi see. So, I told her something I’d never told another living soul. Not even Ward. “After the virus, I began to have visions in my sleep. Fatas made it clear I would reach my end amid fire. I’ve known this most of my life, and I’ve come to accept it.”

  “Gar,” she murmured. “Those are just dreams.”

  “They are not just dreams,” I said through gritted teeth, needing her to understand. She wasn’t in my head, thank Fatas. She didn’t see what I saw every night. The flames. My burning flesh. The agony of the all-consuming blaze. My lungs filling with smoke as I gasped my last breath. Those were the visions I woke up from every night, panting in the dark alone. “My visions are real. They are a promise from Fatas.”

  She swallowed heavily and ducked her head. Her small fingers plucked at the covering before she spoke in a trembling voice. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have dismissed them.” She glanced up and shifted closer, placing her small hand on top of mine. “Go on. I’m listening.”

  I’m listening.

  I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted to hear those words. I’d spent so much time being silent so no one would know what swirled in my head, but maybe that was why the storm inside never stopped.

  “I’ve never given anyone a chance to listen to me,” I said. “And there’s a reason. Burdening anyone with my curses is unfair. Even now I hesitate to say anything.”

  “But don’t you think you’d feel some peace? If you let some of what you’re feeling out instead of keeping it locked inside?”

  “And how is that fair to you?” I demanded. “I feel a small amount of peace but then you are forced to live with the ugliness inside me?”

  Her back straightened, and her chin lifted. Normally when my tone deepened to a growl, others fled, but not Naomi. If anything, my growls strengthened her courage.

  “I might not be your mate, as you say, but I’m your friend. And this is what friends do. We lighten the load for each other. I’m tired of watching you carry around this weight on your shoulders. This isn’t about what’s fair. This is about me, sitting here, pleading with you to let me help you.” Her hands squeezed mine. “Please, Gar.”