by T. S. Ryder
“Tell me, woman,” he rasped, “where is he?”
“P-Please... I need the b-blue pills...” she gasped, trying to catch her breath.
A sharp, burning pain hit her cheek as her head turned sideways.
“Shut up, bitch!” he snarled. “Answer me first. Where is Erdal?”
She was shocked by the impact of the slap as blood oozed from her nose and dripped onto the front of her white nightdress. A fit of coughing shook her for a while. When it was over she lay on the floor, only half conscious.
“Get up!” he barked and kicked her leg. “You pathetic whore,” he spat at her.
She screamed. “Please... stop... he’s gone,” she gasped, as tears streamed down her face. “He’s gone to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“His guardian,” she said, wanting to get the ordeal over with. She couldn’t risk the life of her baby.
“Give me a name!” he barked, bending down and roughly clasping her jaw with his hand. She was forced to stare into his beady, dark eyes.
“Ornek...” she whispered. “Th-that’s all I know. Please let me go now,” she implored. The hardest of hearts would have melted, but Gezek was blind to another’s pain.
He let go of her face and slapped her hard, again. She fell on her side, unconscious.
“Shut up or I will cut out your tongue,” he seethed. “Stupid cunt.” He strode out of the cell, slamming the door behind him.
***
It was noon the next morning when Erdal pulled his hood down his face as he followed Ornek toward the throne room. He had slung his Light-Shard over his shoulder and his jaw was clenched. He was late... He should have got here earlier. A strange gleam lit up his emerald eyes, a lethal resolve in his step.
Zutaar sat upon his throne, talking to Gezek, when Ornek and Erdal were led into the throne room.
Erdal couldn’t wait any longer. He stepped forward and took off his hood. The king’s guards immediately surrounded them, swords and crossbows pointing at them.
“Zutaar,” he said, in a cold and demanding voice, “where is Natalie?”
“Look who’s here,” he sneered. “The rat has left its hole.” His laughter echoed through the halls.
“Where is she?” Erdal demanded in a seething voice, blood pounding in his veins.
“She’s in the dungeons, Erdal,” he said, calmly. “And I will punish you both as fugitives.
“My lord, I’m sorry, but please hear me out,” Ornek began. “Erdal here is the rightful heir to the throne. I have evidence to back it up.”
“And who are you to make such a claim?” the king demanded.
“I am Ornek Zorlu, Royal Guard to King Bu’Rak Rezan Urquiorra. Lord Erdal here is his son, the rightful heir.”
Zutaar’s expression shifted.
“Take them to the yard and behead them!” he yelled at the guards.
The guards closed in and, with a swift move, Ornek unsheathed his Katana and beheaded the first guard who approached him. He was fast for an old man. He quickly killed off the other three men who came at him next.
Erdal glimpsed Ornek in combat with Gezek next, as Ornek parried his blow. Then, swiftly, he slit his throat, and Gezek dropped to the floor, dead. Erdal quietly admired the old man’s skills as he quickly made his way toward the throne, jumping over the bodies on his way. His heart thrummed in his chest, rage surging through his blood as he gripped the hilt tighter.
Zutaar got up and unsheathed his own sword. He lunged at Erdal, blindly swinging his sword at him. Erdal dodged, stepping sideways, and braced himself for another parry. He saw the gleam of madness in the king’s eyes.
“Gezek tells me the woman is a real weakling,” Zutaar smirked. “And you dare defy me for her?” He snarled as he lunged toward Erdal again.
Erdal parried the attack by holding his Light-Shard vertically in front of him. The king carried his sword clumsily as he had not taken it up in years, but he was stronger and taller than Erdal. He came at him again and Erdal dodged his lunge. Yet, Zutaar pounded him in the ribs with a small club in his other hand. He then swung again, hitting Erdal in the face.
Erdal staggered and fell backward. His head reeled and his ears rang as hot, searing pain shot up his jaw and the side of his chest. His vision blurred for a few seconds as he tasted warm, metallic blood in his mouth. A wave of nausea hit him.
Get up! Get up now! You can’t let him win! The voice in his head yelled as he saw the king advance toward him. The image of his mother and father lying in a pool of their own blood flashed across his mind as he struggled to get up. He grabbed his Light-Shard from the floor beside him and got to his feet. The king clumsily swung his sword again, and this time, as Erdal parried, the blades clashed, metal clanking against metal. He felt the impact reverberate through his arm. Erdal had the kind of strength and agility that the other lacked. His years of experience in the arena had taught him how to survive. He stepped forward and swung his Light-Shard, slashing the left arm of the king and leaving a large open gash in its wake. Dark blood gushed forth and the club fell from his grasp as he cried in pain. The king lunged forward, wildly swinging his sword at him. Erdal moved sideways, dodging the clumsy attack.
“This is for hurting Natalie,” he said coldly. Quick as lightning, he slashed his other arm, cutting it off. More blood, dark as tar, spilled. He continued advancing as Zutaar retreated, screaming, until he fell backward on the steps leading to the throne. Erdal was upon him immediately, pointing his katana at the murderer’s heart.
“And this is for father and mother,” Erdal said, tears glistening in his eyes, as he raised his Light-Shard. He plunged the thin blade into Zutaar’s chest, severing his dark heart. The pseudo-king convulsed and breathed his last, the light escaping his cold, gray eyes. His body lay still in an ever-increasing pool of dark blood.
***
Erdal found Natalie unconscious on the dark floor. She was pale and her skin seemed gray in the dim light. Her breathing was ragged and her pulse faint, but she was alive. He carried her in his arms to the sickbay, tears rolling down his cheeks.
Dr. Barca took her in. Kissing her forehead, Erdal left her in his care. An hour later he reported she was stable and the baby was fine. She needed breathing pills and was dehydrated. He had given her a sedative to put her at ease. She was stronger than she seemed, the doctor reassured.
Erdal heaved a sigh of relief as he gazed at the now confused and scared faces of the council members. Half an hour earlier, when he got back to the meeting room, there was chaos among the council heads. Ornek had already briefed them about the situation and showed them the documents that proved Erdal was the true heir to the throne.
They wanted some time to think it over, but as Ornek said, there was no doubt about it. They had no choice but to agree.
Epilogue
Erdal sat by the bed in the sickbay and watched her sleep. He had almost lost her. Again. His chest constricted at the thought. If something had happened to her or the baby, he could never have forgiven himself.
Natalie stirred and her eyes fluttered open.
“Erdal,” she whispered his name, and he felt a familiar pull toward her.
“I’m here, my love...” he bent down and planted a kiss on her soft lips.
“Oh, Erdal!” she cried, as he took her in his arms. “I thought I would never see you again!”
“Hush,” he whispered into her hair, taking in her sweet scent. “I rule this land now, so everything will be okay.” He smiled down at her, and then kissed her deeply. “And you will be my beautiful queen,” he said pulling apart.
“You have claimed the throne?” she asked, ever so softly. “What happened to Zutaar?” She saw the side of his face was still slightly swollen, and she could only imagine what he must have endured.
With Dr. Barca’s treatment, his wounds had healed quickly.
“He’s dead,” Erdal said darkly. “We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“Even if
he’s gone, don’t you ever leave me alone...” she said.
“I promise you, I will always be at your side,” he said as he gazed deep into her eyes. “And, as my queen, I will lay the world at your feet. I will make you feel loved like no man has ever loved you. I will mark your soul with my touch so deeply that you will crave for nothing more. I will ensnare you with my love, touching you in those secret hidden places you don’t even know exist. Only then will you know what it means to be my queen.”
She gasped, speechless, as her heart beat faster.
He kissed her again. “Oh, and Dr. Barca tells me that it’s a boy,” he said, smiling his gorgeous smile, as he placed his palm on her belly.
“Really? What should we name him?” she asked, smiling.
“Arion,” he said, “he will be Arion Erdal Bu’rak Urquiorra.”
***
Six months later, he stood waiting at the steps leading to the pavilion overlooking the sea. It was draped in gold and white with ivory flowers encircling the gold columns. He wore a dark suit with dark pants, the royal cape draped over his shoulders. He couldn’t stop gazing at the beautiful woman who walked toward him.
She wore a low-cut, backless gold silk and chantilly gown with intricate ivory and gold designs. She held a sleek, gold staff in her hand, a tradition of their race. Her hair was swept up in a loose bun, and she wore an intricate gold tiara on her head. She ambled up to him with a civilized grace gazed into his eyes. The women from the harem were her bridesmaids. They had been set free. Many of them had volunteered to work at the palace while others left for their home planets. One of the bridesmaids held their two-month-old son as she stood by, watching.
Natalie took his hand and he slid a large sapphire onto her finger. They exchanged their vows and Ornek declared them man and wife.
After the ceremony, they stood alone at the far end of the pavilion, gazing at the beautiful sunset arcing over the sea. He held her hand and she rested her head on his shoulder, gazing at the horizon awash with golden and purple hues. He turned to her, his emerald eyes full of love and warmth, and she blushed. He could still do that to her. She bit her lower lip, and he bent down and claimed her mouth with his, his tongue demanding and receiving all of her. As always, he took her breath away, and she wondered what she had done to deserve such a man.
Their hearts beat as one, and the calm sea reflected the peace within their souls. Together they ruled their kingdom and their people loved them. They were remembered long after they were gone.
*****
THE END
The Alien Warrior's Secret Baby
Description
A curvy girl held prisoner on planet X29 PLUS a hot alien who is commander at her camp PLUS a secret human-alien baby!
A generation ago, an alien force named The Gosebs invaded earth and imprisoned the entire human population. Mereen Silver has never known a life different to the one she has. She was born on a Goseb garrison and spent her entire life in their servitude. She has never known hope or happiness, only hard work and despair.
When Mereen is transferred to a different ship, she meets the revolutionary Goseb Commander Detro Mirol. He is not cruel or malicious, he is kind and gentle and, even more, he wants to help the human prisoners under his control.
As time passes Mereen and Detro grow closer and he shares his vision of a peaceful future for humans and Gosebs alike. Mereen is happy to help him in any way she can. But the rest of the Goseb commanders do not agree. They like having power over the humans, using them and discarding them as they will.
But then Detro suddenly disappears in the midst of a fight with a fellow commander over Mereen...
Just then, Mereen learns that she’s pregnant with Detro’s child. Will Detro come back for Mereen, and can she survive until he does? Will their love win out, or will the horrors of war crush them both?
Chapter One
Happiness was in short supply on X29. The planet should have had a better name, but we humans trapped on it felt no love for the strange, dusty place. It didn’t deserve a nickname. We called it Ex sometimes, but that’s all. It wasn’t home and it was never going to be. It was Ex, a place where we had to live because we had no other choice.
The klaxons rang loudly from speakers spread through the camp, signaling the start of another day. It was a horrible, loud, shrieking noise designed to wake even the drunkest man. The klaxons meant that it was time to get up and go to work. They were a call to the men of the camp, telling them to descend into the mines for another day of hard labor. The days were endless, filled with work followed by more days filled with more work, each one leading to the next with no break or rest.
With a loud sigh, I pulled myself out of bed and stretched. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open. I felt tired all of the time. It was an endless exhaustion. All I wanted to do was stay in bed. Nausea hit me when I moved and I put my hands to my lips, struggling to contain it. I couldn't afford to be sick. I needed to keep every bite of food I ate in my body.
I rubbed my soft belly. I could feel the start of a swell there. Or maybe there was nothing. Maybe it was all still in my imagination. But the symptoms were clear enough. I was pregnant. It was good I wasn’t showing yet. Hopefully, I could hide it for a while, wear baggy clothes, wrap myself in rags. I had always been curvy and I was thankful for that now. It would help hide the pregnancy for a little longer.
“Knock knock,” I heard a low voice say. I looked over to see a man with a red face and yellow eyes leaning into my tent. He was tall and thin, with that sunken-cheeked look that all the miners had after enough time spent here. He had dirt permanently trapped under his fingernails and his clothes were thin rags, though he managed a wan smile.
“Good morning, Rob,” I said, as I stood and stretched my already aching back.
“Ready to do some business, Mereen?” he asked me. Behind him, I could see the glaring morning sunlight of the planet. Morning and night were words that had no meaning here. The planet sat between two suns. There was no night. The temperature ran from hot to hotter.
“Always,” I replied. Rob was my salesman. He sold my wares to men in the mines for fifty percent of the profit. It was a high markup, but it kept me safe and away from the more dangerous side of the business. It was too risky for me to deal with the miners. Rob was better at it, and he knew them. He knew their schedules and personalities; he knew who could be trusted. I handled the supply, Rob handled the demand.
Rob and I had done this countless times. He didn’t need to be told to close the flap and wait on the other side. Once the flap was closed all the way and I knew he couldn’t see, I reached into my rucksack at the foot of my thin mattress. Inside, sewn into the lining, was a secret compartment. Reaching in, I took out a handful of small bags filled with a clear liquid. Alcohol, concentrated and deadly, but easy to smuggle around the camp.
“Enter,” I called to Rob, and he opened the flap and came inside. He handed me a heavy clump of copper ore and I placed it on the scale. It was three pounds, exactly. “How do you always get the number so perfect?” I asked.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Rob said, grabbing the small capsules of alcohol and slipping them into the many hidden pockets of his vest. “Same time tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here,” I answered, and with a tip of a nonexistent cap, Rob left. I let out a deep breath and sat down on my bed again. Just that small act had taken the strength out of me.
There were no comforts in my Spartan quarters. This was a work camp; it wasn’t meant to be pleasant. My tent had a thin mattress on the floor, a bucket for waste and a jug for water. I kept the few personal items I owned in my rucksack, and carried it with me wherever I went.
Our settlement was in the northern half of the planet. Anything further south would have been too hot and inhospitable, though I knew the southern pole had a small tropical island. It was the one place on the planet that wasn’t a miserable desert.
We lived on a huge, wide, fla
t plane. Thousands of tents lined up in neat rows, each one with human men and women working and struggling to survive another day. There were children as well, though only those boys that would one day be suitable for work were allowed to live.
The klaxons outside changed their tone. Tent check. I stood up, my body crying out from exhaustion. I grabbed my shawl and brought it over my head to shield my skin from the bright sun.
Standing next to my tent, I nodded to my neighbors. To my left was the wife of a miner who had already left for work. Women were considered too weak and small to be functional in the mines, but there was still plenty of work for us to do. There was washing to be done, food to prepare and Goseb commanders to care for.
According to the ID chip implanted in my neck, I worked in the washing facility. I should be spending my days elbow deep in suds. But a bribe every week to the woman in charge of the laundry ensured that I got credit for work without ever actually washing a single thing. The laundry was where I made alcohol and I used to surplus income to stay alive.
The Goseb guards walked between the tents. They held a sensor in one hand and every time it passed over a human there was a quiet beep that meant the human was exactly where they were supposed to be.
The guard loomed over me. He was wearing armor that both protected and cooled him. His face was covered with an expressionless black mask, but I knew what was underneath. Goseb’s were oddly human-like in stature and size. The guard in front of me was only a few inches taller than I was. Underneath the armor his skin was green and his eyes a bright violet color. He would most likely have short hair and a body decorated with tattoos. Not that I would ever see him. The Gosebs only took their armor off when they were at home among family.
I kept my eyes downcast as the sensor moved over me. I heard the beep, and then the Goseb moved past me and onto the next human. On and on down the line he went. It would take them about half an hour to scan every human, and we had to wait outside of our tents until they were finished.
