by S. J. Talbot
Table of Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
Asteroid Mate
Cosmic Alien Sci-Fi Romance Series: Book One
S. J. Talbot
Copyright © 2017 by S. J. Talbot
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Please leave an honest review and help others find this book!
Dedication
To you
Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
About the Author
Preface
When Squads from the Planet Relica visit alien worlds, it’s because those worlds are in danger. So when Commander Tausson Corwin comes to Earth to prepare the planet for evacuation, it’s Tierney Dawson, the President’s Chief of Staff, who is trying to coordinate the American role in the disaster response.
The Relicans help far off worlds — like Earth — who don’t have the technology to fully help themselves. But Commander Corwin’s culture dictates that this process is also how he is to find a mate. This ensures that Relican bloodlines exist throughout the Galaxy and save them from their own extinction.
1
"People of Earth. I am Tausson Corwin, Commander of the Cosmic Vessel Irral, from the system Relica. The sole purpose of the Relican Squad is to save sufficiently advanced cultures from certain destruction due to planetary collisions. Soon your planet will be struck by an asteroid, obliterating all life. We are here to assist with evacuation and transportation to a suitable replacement."
From his orbiting spaceship, speaking to them through a live video channel, the stern alien commander fell silent.
400 miles or so below him, Tierney Dawson stared back, hardly believing this was real. She, as White House Chief of Staff, had been summoned by the President to the Situation Room, joining the Vice President, the Secretaries of State and Defense, and the Directors of the CIA, the FBI, NASA, and SETI for this historic event. Screens on the wall showed live feeds from similar gatherings across the globe, including NATO, United Nations Security Council, Asia Alliance Coalition, and other international bodies. But as Tierney looked around at all of those important people, she could tell from their stunned, dark expressions that all of them were thinking exactly the same thing she was:
We're screwed.
The only ones not paralyzed by what they had just heard were the two scientists who sat beside her. At the first mention of an asteroid, they had begun furiously typing on their laptops, talking to each other in hushed whispers.
Of the politicians, the President was the first to recover. As always, Tierney was impressed by her boss's cool head in the middle of a crisis. This conversation was being viewed not only by the leaders of every country on the planet, but every television channel had also been hijacked by the aliens, ensuring that all citizens of Earth were aware of the impending crisis. With billions of eyes watching, the President became the first person in humanity's history to speak to an alien.
"Commander Corwin," she said, standing at her place at the head of the table, "you are our planet's first contact with an alien race, so I'm sure you can understand our shock at not only your arrival, but also the message you bring. While your technology is clearly more advanced than ours, we are not without our own spatial monitoring systems. We have identified no objects that would be capable of such damage."
She gave a pointed look at the NASA and SETI representatives, and both of them shook their heads.
The commander frowned, drawing Tierney's thoughts once again to how remarkably similar these aliens were to her own species. While Commander Corwin stood too close to the screen for her to see the bottom half of his body, she could see the others around him: two arms, two legs, one head, even hair -- no slime or extra eyes or anything. All of them could have passed for human, if it weren't for their skin color. The skin-tight uniforms they all wore covered almost every inch of their muscular bodies, including their hands, but each of the Relicans' faces were either the color of steel, like the commander; the color of iron, like the alien standing directly to his left; or bronze, like the one standing towards the back with a deep frown.
"As you stated yourself, your technology is primitive compared to ours." The commander's tone had changed from calm to annoyed. The movement of his lips didn't match the audio, and Tierney realized he must be speaking a different language, with a translation being piped through to them.
"By our estimates," he said, "you won't see the asteroid for another fifteen days, and if we are going to evacuate your entire population, we don't have any time to lose."
"How soon will the asteroid strike?" asked the Vice President.
The commander's gray face was hard, and his voice -- deeper than any Tierney had ever heard -- was deadly serious when he said, "Thirty Earth days."
The entire room burst into a cacophony of questions and outcries, and theirs wasn't the only one. Across the globe, Tierney saw hundreds of heads of state losing it, giving in to the panic.
If they're freaking out, she thought, imagine what the public is doing right now. We have to stay calm. We have to lead by example.
Leaning over slightly, she nudged the NASA director next to her. Although the noise would have hidden her words anyway, she spoke only loud enough for him to hear when she said, "Trace the source of that transmission. Now." As he dove back into his laptop, she glanced at the President, who was still standing but not speaking. They had worked together for ten years, and a simple nod was enough for Tierney to communicate what she was doing. The President nodded back.
The iron gray alien standing beside Commander Corwin stepped forward and spoke. "We know this is difficult to accept." This alien's voice was still deep, but higher than the commander's. Tierney wondered if it was female, but other than its voice and darker color, it was identical to the commander: broad shoulders, muscles rippling beneath the uniform, and military-sty
le cut black hair. Speaking over the clamor, this second alien continued.
"We are sending our data over the infowaves now, and it will automatically be translated into each language as it is received. We also invite up to five of your world's leaders to our vessel, to verify our capabilities and intentions."
Although clearly meant to calm the worries of those listening, the alien's words only increased the anxiety and fervor.
"Don't open any data they send!" shouted one of the NATO representatives on one screen. "It could be a virus meant to disable our technology!"
"They're luring us up there to become hostages!" cried someone from the Security Council. "They just want our resources!"
"This is all a hoax!" yelled a member of the Asia Alliance Coalition.
"Silence!" The commander's thunderous roar succeeded where his comrade's attempted kindness had failed. Every voice went quiet, and every eye was once again on him. When he spoke again, it was a low growl.
"I will grant you one hour of deliberation, and then I will shuttle down to your planet to begin discussing logistics."
"Where will you land?" asked the President, who had remained still throughout the tumult. "We have no global, centralized government location."
The commander stared back at her, his black eyes taking in the President's calm demeanor, her steady voice.
"I will land at your command station," he said.
The President pursed her lips, the only sign of what Tierney knew must be a whirlwind of emotions inside. "Very well," she said, "the United States Capitol is located at --"
"I have your coordinates," interrupted the commander, no longer looking at her. "One hour."
The screen went black.
Before the room had a chance to erupt into chaos again, the President stared firmly at the monitors with the other world leaders said, "While it would obviously be preferred to have all of you physically present when Commander Corwin arrives, that is obviously not possible given the time constraints. However, I will conference you all in again on these same channels at the time of the meeting. Nothing will be discussed without your hearing it."
"This is a hoax," the same member of the Asia Alliance Coalition repeated. "My people are searching for the source of the feed as we speak."
"We've already found it," said the NASA director, his eyes wide. "The transmission is originating from 422 miles above Earth's surface, from precisely the same location of the unidentified object we detected a little over an hour ago."
"Why do they care so much about our survival?" asked another dignitary. "What's in it for them?"
"A great question," said the President, "for when the Commander arrives." Someone else started to speak, but she cut them off. "In the meantime, I must address my countrymen, and I'm certain you are all anxious to do the same. We must set the public's mind at ease as much as we can to avoid global chaos."
Tierney had been thinking the same thing. They had to let the public know what they were thinking and planning, otherwise the country could devolve into anarchy.
"I'll see you all in an hour," said the President, and with a click of a button, all of the screens switched off.
2
"A little harsh, don't you think, Commander?"
Tausson snapped his head up to glare at his First. "We're trying to save them, and all they do is squabble, putting themselves in greater danger."
"You know how it goes," said Carterra, speaking gently but holding her ground even in the face of his withering stare. "It's reasonable for them not to trust us -- would you? They'll come around. Just like all the others."
Tausson turned away to look gravely at the sightscreen, the blue and green planet slowly circling before them. "Not all," he whispered.
Carterra's cool, bare hand touched the back of his neck. The gesture of intimacy often comforted him, but today it did nothing but make him more irritable. He could tell she wanted to say more, but with the crew watching and listening, she couldn't contradict him further without appearing insubordinate. Besides, she'd said it all before.
"Elic," he barked, making his Planetary Officer jump, "have you identified a replacement for the planet's population?"
"I've done more than that," she said, flashing him a bright smile, her white teeth a stark contrast against her nearly black skin. "I found six suitable locations, all within twenty jumps from Earth."
"Six?"
Elic misread his surprise as him being impressed, and smiled even wider before hastily tapping on the arm of her black suit. The image of Earth on the sightscreen disappeared, replaced by a planet covered almost entirely in green. "Lota is the best candidate," she said. "Only 13.8 jumps away, it is an almost perfect match with Earth's atmospheric composition, although its orbit is much faster, so they'll have to get used to their seasons only being a few days long."
She pressed a few more buttons on her mechasuit and a new planet was displayed, this one mostly blue but with one massive dark brown land mass. "Arcta is --"
"Why did you waste time on this?" Tausson barked. "We only need one replacement."
The Planetary Officer stared at him, her pride in her work shriveling as she tried to speak. "I thought... maybe if the Earthans were able to make their own choice..." She trailed off, looking at Carterra for support.
"Did you have something to do with this?" Tausson growled, standing to confront his First.
"Third Elic brought her idea to me a few days ago," said Carterra, her back straight. "She has been studying our first contacts and thought that if the Earthans had a say in their replacement planet, they may be more comfortable with the process overall. I agreed and approved her request."
"There are more important things than the comfort of these Earthans, such as their survival."
"Squad," she said, using the Relicans' term of agreement. "However the more comfortable they are with us and our mission, the smoother the transition will be for everyone."
Tausson's Second, Rasmus, piped up from his seat by the door of the weapons chamber. "I say just herd them all up and drop them all off. It's for their own good. We don't need their agreement. They're no match for us. Enough with all this diplomacy nonsense. It never works anyway. Fear's the only thing that motivates these rooters."
Elic gasped, and both Carterra and Tausson whirled around on the Protection Officer, but Tausson spoke first. "That language is not permitted on this ship. We are Squad, not ignorant sludge."
Rasmus stood, moving to stand directly in front of the commander. While most of the command crew were silvers, Rasmus was the only obvious bronze, his skin a dark gold. Though bronzes weren't generally as strong as silvers, the Protection Officer had come close to besting his commander more than once in sparring matches. It had been over a year since their last match, and Tausson knew that Rasmus had been training hard since then. Even though beating your commander in a spar didn't automatically result in becoming commander yourself, it was a guaranteed way of getting on Control's list of potential promotions -- and it was a surefire sign that the defeated commander wouldn't be in command for much longer.
"Go supervise the shuttle preparations," Tausson snarled.
Rasmus glowered for a moment longer -- just long enough to goad Tausson, then moved past him. Even after he disappeared through the hatch, the command center remained thick with tension, with all eyes on Tausson.
"What about the other issue, Commander?" asked Carterra, her voice calm, respectful.
Tausson appreciated her show of solidarity, although no one would expect anything less from her.
"Do you think this President is a good candidate?" she inquired further.
His temper ebbing, he pressed his finger against the forearm of his suit, and his ship interface, a screen with a grid of digital buttons, appeared. He called up the footage of the video conference and froze it.
"Nelle Freeland," he said.
"She was the only one brave enough to speak when the rest were silent, and --" started Carterra.
"-- and to stay silent when the rest spoke," Tausson finished for her. "Yes, yes, I know the Passages as well as you do."
"And," said his First, completing her own thought, "she looks fit."
"For a human," Elic chimed in.
Tausson was inclined to agree with Elic. Although this President was what passed as attractive for a human (if the Culture Report his Third had assembled was to be believed), she was too light, too wispy. Though she stood tall and spoke firm, her pallid hair, eyes, and skin reminded him of the spineless gloop back home: a gelatinous, milky white sea creature that had no strength of its own, bobbing and drifting at the mercy of the currents.
"Call up her profile," he ordered. Elic pressed her sleeve, and a stream of words scrolled along the bottom of the screen.
"Forty-three?" he said. "That's past the recommended age."
"Yet she remains youthful," said Carterra, "and her age brings wisdom. She would make a fine selection. The recommendations are not meant to hinder."
As details about the President continued to scroll past, Tausson's gaze wandered. A head of dark hair caught his eye, and he found himself staring at the woman to the President's left. Her skin, though still light compared to Relican females, was darker than the President's, and reminded him of the rich brown leaves of the nican tree, but after they'd paled during the season of endsummer. Her eyes, so dark they were almost black, stared straight at him, hard, suspicious, sharp. He wondered what her rank was, and if the President would include her in his meeting. The sliver of hope that shot through him at the idea surprised and disturbed him, and he returned his attention to the President.
