Alien Pirate's Booty (Science Fiction Alien/BBW Fated Mates Abduction Romance)

by Juno Wells

  Oh, the anxiety in those dark eyes ... I must be strong. This will not be pleasant for her. But the Spirits will provide.

  “No alien may see Gyr and leave.”

  19

  - Dakota -

  It feels like ice down my back. “No one may see Gyr and live?” His English has an accent, and I really need some clarification here.

  He still looks at me, and he's more serious than I've seen him before. “Once alien has seen Gyr, must stay on Gyr forever.”

  Yeah, it's not much better. “Oh. You'll just happily keep innocent aliens imprisoned on this desert world for life?”

  He considers this. “No alien ever on Gyr.”

  Great. I'm unprecedented. “It's not like I had a choice. You brought me here. Your legal position is probably very weak. This would never stand up in any courtroom on Earth. Uh, or anywhere else, I'm sure.”

  “Difficult,” Brenaxx agrees, and I can see a worried crease on his forehead.

  Damn. I'm worried too, now. If this is their law, then I might be screwed in more ways than the good one. I have trusted this guy far too much. I should have slit his throat the second he let me touch that sword to dig the hole with.

  Figures. The only time I really fall and really give my heart to someone, he turns around and wants to keep me a prisoner on his planet. Because this is his doing. I may not understand the words of their language, but I can tell that the old guy and everyone else hold Brenaxx in great regard. He has a lot of power here. And he wants to keep me prisoner.

  I was right the first time. I'm his booty.

  “You have no right to do this to me,” I say, and my voice cracks. It's weak, I know. I'm so disappointed I can't even be angry.

  He just looks at me, and now I don't know what I see in his eyes. They're usually pretty easy to read.

  Or maybe they never were. It was just a figment of my imagination.

  Oh, who am I kidding? I never knew this man.

  20

  - Brenaxx -

  I sit down on the floor in front of the the Tribal Mother. She's not my actual mother. Not as far as I know, anyway. I was raised by warriors, as all men are.

  “She's my Bayan.”

  The Mother is old and frail. But her eyes have that glint of fierce intelligence that I remember from my younger days when I grew up in this village. The fact that Dakota and I crashed so close to here is clearly a sign from the Spirit. A good sign or bad, I have no idea.

  She sits in her simple chair and doesn't move. “Certainly you have good reasons to think this. Hardly any men find their Bayan, their One Love. And those that do become legendary. That you, our king, should be among them is too much to believe. A king who has found his Bayan? It has never happened.”

  I sigh deeply. In front of the Mother, I don't feel like a king. I just feel human. And that's the point. “I am aware of that. It is too much to expect. But ever since I saw her, she has filled my mind to the point where I think it might burst in a flood wave of joy.”

  She is quiet for a long time. “That is certainly talk that is untypical of any Xar. I have never known you to be fanciful or to have your head in the sky. You were never a dreamer, Brenaxx. You were always practical. Tell me about the meeting.”

  I tell her about the Earth forces we attacked on a whim, just six of us against twenty times as many heavily armed soldiers. How we slaughtered them, as is our right, and how I singled Dakota out for combat to let her entertain me with her desperate antics. And how time stopped when I saw her face and how I saw a blue flash and felt strange, as if I had been hit by lightning. And about all that happened in the desert.

  The Mother is quiet for a long time again. “Much points to this woman being your Bayan. The lightning, the intensity of your obsession with her, the fact that you spared her life and even kept her alive in our desert. That you, our king, willfully broke the law and brought her here to Gyr. Yes, I accept that she could be your Bayan.”

  I frown. 'Could be'? I'm not happy with this. I wanted guidance, not vague maybes. “How will I know for sure?”

  “How does this alien woman feel about you? Does she love you?”

  “I don't know. I think she likes some things about me. She did say she loved me.”

  The Mother taps her lips thoughtfully with one finger. “No woman says that lightly, Brenaxx. I think we can take it at face value. She certainly feels affection for you, anyway. And therein lies the final test. She must be allowed to leave you. If she does, she's not your Bayan. If she stays, she is. And you'll go on to become a legendary king.”

  I groan. I'm aware that it's a very un-kingly thing to do. But in front of the Mother, I'm reduced to my core. “She is an alien. She is not allowed to leave. If I let her leave, I break the law and I lose the throne.”

  I can hardly believe my ears: the Mother chuckles. “Then you have a choice to make, Brenaxx.”

  I get laboriously to my feet and stagger out, my mind a chaos of conflicting feelings and opinions. If only everything could be as easy as waging war out in space!

  21

  - Dakota -

  They gave me a nice underground cave. It's not dug into the sand, but into hard rock. It has modern conveniences and nice rugs everywhere.

  A young man is my servant, I think. At least he has that feel to him. His name is Trunak. He has given me food and new clothes. For a planet that makes its living stealing stuff from other civilizations, I have to say this is not very ostentatious. Some things have an alien look to them, and the technology I see was probably not made here. But still, you'd think they'd have more gold and jewels.

  There are no guards anywhere. I don't think they even have guards. They gave me a cave of my own, with Trunak to help me with daily things, and they're not guarding me at all. Of course I understand why. We're surrounded by desert. And while Brenaxx taught me a lot about how to do things out there, I also know that I'd survive about twenty minutes before some terrible animal killed me. Or a sandstorm.

  I finish the tasty stew that Trunak gave me, along with a pitcher of a cool, fruity drink. It makes me feel better and more motivated for planning my escape. I think I can consider myself a prisoner of war by now. And it is my duty as a space marine to try to escape. Both to take up enemy resources in looking for me and to get back to base to fight again.

  It's just that the only way I can go is up. And I have seen no spaceship here.

  Night time is approaching, and there's no way I'm going to go out when that black hole is in the sky. But tomorrow morning, I'll start exploring the village. I'll find a way home.

  I sigh as I lie down on the mattress. For all the good it will do me. Will any place feel like home if Brenaxx isn't there?

  Shit. He got me good. I can't take my mind off him. And I don't want to.

  The rest of my life without him? The idea makes my mind go dark with despair.

  22

  - Brenaxx -

  The hangar is blasted into the top of the rock and carefully camouflaged. I stand there and watch Garek land his ship. It's just like mine, a round and very advanced thing that we looted from a species that I think is called the Hubi. Very smart aliens, great designers of spacecraft. But also very easy to defeat in battle.

  Dakota is right. We have done a lot of stealing, and then we try to pass it off as war to justify it to ourselves. Perhaps it is not very honorable. Well, we have to try to survive. Our planet is barren, and life was always a struggle here. When we first were able to go into space, it seemed as if the gates of heaven opened for us and that all the treasures of every other species and civilization was there for the taking. Growing up on Gyr makes you hard.

  But perhaps our hardness is excessive.

  Garek comes out and is not too surprised to see me here. “Greetings, Sire. You left the battlefield with a captive?”

  I grasp my friend by the forearm as custom dictates. “I did.”

  He grins. “Some of them were females, were they not? If I'd known, I would
have taken one of my own. Or possibly several. But they wore those suits that disguised their features. Any good?”

  I look away. This is how we talk about females? I hadn't noticed before how crass it sounds. “Yes. Very good.”

  We walk towards the lounge where I'm sure Garek will enjoy a drink or two while we talk about our exploits and plans. I will not drink anything. Not tonight. She's so close I can almost smell her.

  Garek cuffs my shoulder, which he can do because no one is around to see it. Royal protocol can be complicated. “Interesting. I've never seen these ones before. They put up a better fight than most. One might almost respect them.”

  “Was there much loot?”

  He shrugs. “There was little. Some useless space suits and swords of an interesting material.”

  We sit down in the lounge and a servant brings drinks. Garek downs his in ten seconds and gets a new one. My glass remains on the table, untouched.

  “So we mindlessly slaughtered a hundred and fifty sentients for little gain.”

  Garek peers at me above the rim of his glass. He's never heard me talk like this. “Gyr comes first. If we knew there was that little to gain from the battle, we would probably not have entered it." He looks away to not offend. "Which we did on your orders.”

  “Yes. I gave the orders to attack. And now I'm not sure if I should have. I've been thinking about our place in the universe, Garek. What do we add to it? Nothing. We just take. What do we build and add?”

  He takes a long swig from his glass. “Gyr never had anything to offer, as you well know. It is barren. All it has is powerful males and sickly females. We will not beg. Thus we must take. We are the sandstorm of the galaxy. Surely there is value in that. And it is pleasant to be feared.”

  “It is pleasant,” I agree. “And yet I wonder if we might not now consider if there could be another way. This last battle was distasteful to me.”

  Garek is already far down in his third drink. “Anything is possible. We Xar were always pragmatic, never married to tradition and the way things have been. That is a luxure we could never afford. We can try other things if the king commands it.”

  I know I'm talking as much to myself as to Garek. And his opinion reflects my own. I stretch in my seat. “Indeed. Have you heard from Boriak since the battle?”

  I change the subject and we talk for an hour. I make sure there's always a full glass in front of Garek. I want him to drink his fill and then some.

  I have a plan. It's simple and it's treacherous. It is also necessary.

  23

  - Brenaxx -

  I tiptoe into the cave they've given her. It's Narek's own, and thus the best one in the village except for mine. For a minute I just stand there in the darkness and look at the vague shape of her on the mattress. I want to take her into my arms and comfort her. I also feel a familiar pressure in my crotch. Spirits, the effects this alien woman has on me!

  I light a candle and kneel at the bed. “Dakota.”

  She stirs, but her sleep is deep. I place one hand on a very female shoulder and squeeze gently. “Dakota.”

  Her eyes fly open, and then she yelps and draw aways from me in a scared movement that breaks my heart. “Get the fuck away from me!”

  But there's no time to explain. I take her hand and pull her to her feet. “Get your suit. You have to leave.”

  For three heartbeats she just looks at me, then she shakes my hand off her and puts her space suit on. “I guess I have no choice. What kind of trick is it this time?”

  I almost cringe at her tone. She trusted me once. And now she doesn't.

  But at least she lets me take her hand and lead her to the hangar. Garek is asleep in my quarters and will hopefully remain there for the time this takes.

  The hangar is small and the ship is large, but it just about fits. The hatch opens with a hiss, but I don't go inside. “I have programmed the navigation system to take you to the nearest Earth base.” I make sure I speak her language correctly. This is important. And I have some practice now, so there's no need to be sloppy about it.

  She stands there and peers inside the ship, holding her helmet in her hand, then back at me. “I thought no alien who had seen Gyr could leave.”

  “That's the law,” I confirm.

  “What is your status here, anyway? I mean, I saw the way they looked at you.”

  “I am the king of Gyr.”

  “The king of the whole planet?”

  “Yes.”

  She looks at me again, and thankfully I see no fear in her anymore. “This is pretty costly for you, isn't it? You're breaking the law.”

  I shrug. “Some things simply must be done. Perhaps we have been in isolation too long.”

  I've never been this nervous. If she accepts this, and actually leaves, she is not my Bayan and my kingdom is no longer mine. If she stays, when she has been given the chance to leave, she is my Chosen One and everything is fine. The king's Bayan is not an alien, no matter where she comes from.

  She looks up at me with those dark eyes and my heart beats so hard I feel it's about to break out of my chest. She goes up on tiptoes and kisses my cheek, and I smile. Surely she'll stay!

  “Thank you,” she whispers, and I think I hear her voice crack. “You're right. This is important.”

  Then my heart sinks to my feet as she turns her back and enters the ship. The hatch closes behind her and the spaceship slowly raises itself into the air, then hovers while the huge hangar doors in the ceiling open and the dim light from Rem pours in.

  I stand there forlornly as the ship goes up into space, taking my love and my joy with it. As soon as it clears the roof the doors close again and I'm alone.

  She has left.

  I don't know how long I stand there. But it is daytime when I return to my quarters to tell Garek that his ship is gone.

  24

  - Brenaxx -

  They have no idea what to do about me. No king has ever broken this law. Or even come close to it. Dakota was the first alien ever to see Gyr. And then the king himself helped her escape.

  It's an unusual kingdom we have. The king is the ruler, but the tribal chiefs can unseat him. We are a society of proud warriors.

  Village chiefs are brought in from all over the planet to discuss my fate, and meanwhile I'm left alone and allowed to go about my business as I please. Not that I have much to do. Losing the only woman I've ever loved has made me thoughtful and quiet, very different from the brash young king I used to be.

  Perhaps this, my personal disaster, can be changed into a good thing for our society. Yes, being feared all over the galaxy is pleasant, as Garek pointed out. But it is also troublesome. At some point, we'll attack a species that can fight back better than anyone we've encountered so far. Dakota's Earth forces will not be taken by surprise again. I think they may be stronger than we think. And there are very many of them.

  What does Gyr have to offer the galaxy? Nothing grows here. The animals can't be used for much. There are no factories.

  But we can try. We can build something, not always take what we need and kill the owners to make it look like a legitimate war and not just pillage and plunder.

  I make sure to talk to everyone I see about it. My position as king is not secure right now, but on the other hand I will not be king much longer. I must use my final days on the throne for the good of the people and use whatever influence I have to make the most of it.

  I often talk to the Tribal Mother. She understands my troubles.

  “It is no surprise that she was not your Bayan,” she says. “She was an alien. And you are a king. Certainly you can procreate with any other woman. They are all willing to bear your child.”

  “No other woman is of interest,” I scoff. “Dakota was too special for words. I have met many women. None of them were like her.”

  “It is remarkable, certainly,” the Mother muses. “I think it's a sign that we probably have to be cautious in our interactions with this particular
civilization.”

  I nod. “Cautious and less aggressive. But not just towards them. Towards everyone.”

  The Mother is quiet for a long time. “You have gained much wisdom, Sire.”

  I'm surprised. She has never called me that before.

  - - -

  The crisis conference has begun. Every tribal chief on the planet is here, as well as every warrior that it has been possible to contact. They're spread all around the galaxy, plundering for Gyr. But some were close enough to attend.

  They will decide my fate. The Tribal Mother is there, and I feel sure she will speak for me. I can't take part, so I wander aimlessly around the oasis and wonder what life will be like after this. After Dakota.

  Will I ever be content again? Probably not. I will always look to the stars and know that somewhere out there is someone who is my love.

  I look up. Rem is in the sky, but my skin will protect me from it for a while. The dark sun of death has ruined our females. But it has made us resilient and robust.

  Huh. Something is obscuring part of the sky. Ah. A spaceship is coming in to land in the hangar. Probably some warrior from far away who is hoping he can still make the conference.

  I squint. That is a very round spaceship – a lot like mine that crashed and Garek's that Dakota took off in. I thought we had only ever taken two of those ...

  I start walking towards the hangar, sudden excitement starting to boil inside me. Surely it can't be ...

  I watch the round, dark ship settle on the hard rock, and my heart rate picks up. That has to be Garek's old ship! Perhaps it is filled with Earth space marines or commandos or even a huge nuclear bomb as a thank-you for us attacking them ...

  The hatch hisses open, and I reflexively draw Hoyre and Venstre out of their scabbards. Anything could come out of that ship.

  And there he is. It's a soldier in an exotic battle suit, sleek and black. The helmet is mirrored and I can only see my own reflection in it. He has a sword, but he also has a gun. His hands are empty as he exits his ship and walks towards me slowly.