Warrior Forever (Warriors in Heat)

by Amber Bardan

  WARRIOR FOREVER

  By Amber Bardan

  WARRIOR FOREVER Copyright © 2017 by Amber Bardan

  WARRIOR FOREVER is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed are fictional or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  His Temptation Chapter 1

  His Temptation Chapter Two

  Books

  About Amber

  CHAPTER ONE

  My nose brushed the chill glass surface, and my pulse gave a shudder.

  Peering through windows in the dark might not be how I usually spend a Friday night, but then…exactly nothing could be considered normal since Monday.

  A shadow crossed the porthole. I rolled back against the door, and waited for the heavy thunking steps to pass, then crossed the room.

  I dropped to my knees by the bed, pulled back the mattress and added a scratch to the fiberglass wall panel, using a metal button.

  My fingers brushed the rows of dents.

  Every hour.

  The guard passed my room every hour on the hour. I’d counted out the seconds and minutes.

  Monitoring guard rotations, now that didn’t rank that high on my list of shit that will never, ever happen. Not when as a military psychologist capture wasn’t an unfamiliar concept. That I’d end up a prisoner myself—that was unlikely.

  Unlikely was fine.

  Unlikely I could deal with.

  This shit though…this shit was fucking impossible.

  Alien abduction . Complete with white light shining through my bedroom window, frozen limbs, and a tugging sensation that lifted me right into a spacecraft.

  Yep, mother-effing impossible.

  The only thing that could rank higher on my list of improbable crap never to happen, was that I’d grow wings and fly. And right now, not even that seemed so implausible.

  I hid the button under the mattress then climbed up onto the bed and lay on my side. There were several significantly more likely possibilities at play here.

  Psychotic break.

  I’d just have to accept it. As a psychologist I should be the first to swallow that pill. I dragged up the blanket. There’d been a patient who I’d had to refer on for more serious treatment once, who was convinced that he’d contracted an alien parasite while on active duty. He believed the parasite spoke in his head.

  People’s minds will conjure and believe the strangest things.

  I knew that. This place was probably a treatment facility—not a spaceship. The guard’s nurses—not horrific snake skinned aliens. Time to accept it and stop resisting…

  A light flashed across the darkness. I stiffened. Only the thinnest stream of light seeped through the porthole. The lights operated on a twelve-hour rotation. Which meant that there were more hours of darkness than preferable, not that there was much, or anything, to do in these little living capsules.

  At least meals were served in a common area, where I saw other humans—prisoners—patients.

  Whatever .

  Light flashed again.

  I sat up. A green spot flickered by the door. I climbed out of bed and went to the control panel. The doors unlocked at the same time every morning and afternoon.

  A metallic thunk clicked, and the door creaked open.

  I stumbled back. This was not one of those times. My heart dropped in my chest.

  They were coming to my room?

  The aliens.

  At night.

  In the dark?

  My stomach clenched. I watched the door. Maybe I didn’t have anything to fight with, but I’d damned well wouldn’t take their sinister alien intentions laying down. I’d get probed with my eyes open, thank you.

  The door remained exactly as it was.

  Only a crack open.

  The green light flickered, faster and faster.

  I approached it again. The guard only just passed. There was an hour before anyone would be back this way.

  My breaths sped up. I pushed the door open and peered out. What would happen if I got caught wandering around? I’d never observed overt abuse from the guards, but disobedience was met with the hurty end of something very much like a cattle prod. I still had the twinge in my side to prove it.

  I swallowed, throat sticky.

  Alien cattle prod was extremely unpleasant.

  But survivable.

  I took a deep breath, my nerves settling. Survival . Hour, after hour, of client appointments ran through my head. Now those soldiers were real survivors. I took a breath and slid through the door and out into the hall.

  Bring on the cattle prod.

  I squinted down the hall. A green flicker flashed up ahead. My spine clicked straighter. What were the chances of a little light like that popping up in my room and now in the hall?

  I made my way towards the flash. The flicker jumped ahead. My pulse thudded. I moved after the light. The dot danced faster, forcing me to jog across the smooth, slippery, floor. The light paused around a corner.

  I reached the spot, panting for breath.

  A door groaned open in front of me.

  Hairs rose off my body like a lick of static. I was literally following after a green light that was leading me god only knew where. My mind flashed with an image of my last boyfriend who’d teased his cat with a toy laser. Making it chase the red dot up a wall.

  Is that what I was doing?

  Chasing a dot like a cat?

  Someone was responsible for this. Most likely one of them . Toying with me. I was probably alien amusement.

  Maybe they’d lead me somewhere terrible.

  I glanced back the way I’d come.

  It would be easy to get back to my room if I went now. If I passed through this new door though…

  The light flickered, drawing my attention back to it. The flashing increased pace, creating an urgency that infected my pulse, spinning it further out of control.

  I darted through the door.

  Wherever this led me, the fact was I was already somewhere terrible.

  I followed the light down hall after hall, reaching another door which slid open the moment I’d reached it.

  The door snapped shut behind me.

  Lights flickered on.

  I covered my eyes. Bloody hell . Air rushed fresh and almost moist in my mouth. I blinked, uncovering my eyes slowly.

  The freshness sang in my lungs.

  Trees and plants filled an en
ormous room. The air in the rest of the ship had a tang to it. An unnatural aftertaste.

  I sucked in breath after breath.

  Whoever led me here, so far was playing nice.

  “This way.”

  My head snapped toward the sound. A path with the same shiny smooth metallic finish to floors everywhere else, snaked a path between garden beds. I went in the direction of the sound, ducking under tree branches to a clearing.

  Trickling water drew my gaze to a pond with a tiny stream of water falling over rock.

  “Here.”

  I turned around. A bench seat sat empty by the pond, a computer panel fixed to a stand in front of it.

  The screen flickered with measurements. I leaned closer. This panel might control this greenhouse. I could probably screw up the whole eco-system with one careless touch.

  “Leila Hains.”

  I jerked back. “Who are you?”

  The panel released a brief echo, before the voice spoke again. “I am your only hope for escape.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Escape .

  My chest surged, but I studied the panel, mind once again back to the picture of that cat chasing a laser. Only hope ? Some dramatic and evocative phrasing right there. This could be some kind of human testing program…

  See how resourceful they are. See how gullible .

  “I asked who are you?” I leaned closer to the panel. “Make that who are you, where are you, and why have I’m here?”

  The panel remained quiet for a moment then crackled.

  “You are in the greenhouse because they do not come here. And because there is an accessible speaker that is not part of the ships intercom system.” The voice flowing from the panel was smooth, eloquent and distinctly feminine.

  There’d been an interview when we were first captured. They must have drugged us in the beginning, because the memory was shaky and foggy like a dream. The aliens asked questions that were interpreted by a small box with a crackling voice. I’d never heard them speak since, and that voice had been clipped, abrupt, and mechanical.

  This one was not like that at all.

  “Okay.” I sat on the bench. “I’m listening.”

  “How is your mind coping with these rapid adjustments to your reality, human?”

  I gripped my knees. Human . Whoever this was, didn’t consider themselves human. “As well as can be expected.”

  “And you are an expert in the field of mental health?”

  I watched the box like it might crawl to life. Whoever this was had information on me. If I’d had concern over whether this speaker was friend or foe, this revelation skewed things to the later. “I am.”

  “And in your time on earth, you worked for your nations Military?”

  I gripped my knees tighter. “That’s correct.”

  Maybe I’d never seen active duty but I’d gone through basic training like everyone else.

  “Would you consider yourself then, as a Military expert on mental health, of sound mind and reason?”

  What the hell was this?

  “Sure.” Aside from the alien abduction delusions my mind was sound as fuck.

  “ Would you consider your personality type amenable to leadership?”

  I’d been psych team leader. Written policies. Conducted studies, and was responsible for reports and articles that were used globally for reference. I’d beaten out men twice my age for my job, in the damned Military , as a freaking woman . “Oh, I am a leader.”

  Thank you very much.

  “ Who are you ?” I repeated.

  The lights dulled a little on the panel.

  “I am an original occupant of this space craft. This is a Crestonian passenger ship, hijacked by the Gillan’s who took you.”

  I sunk forward, elbows to my knees. “What happened to the rest of the passengers?”

  “They are where you will soon be if you do not follow my directions. They are held at a Gillan’s holding station, awaiting sale.”

  My lungs tightened. “Sale for what, slavery?”

  “Perhaps. There are several planets who procure intelligent humanoid species for labor.”

  Labor, thank god. Physical labor I could survive.

  I swallowed, and let out a dry laugh. “Well at least it’s not some weird sexual thing like in books and movies. Like oh, no, there’s magically somehow no females in the whole freaking universe—all the aliens must have sex with you now.” My laugh died in my throat.

  Wait…every single passenger here was female.

  “There are indeed many known female poor planets. However, most of them prefer to procure females bred and trained for companionship.”

  Companionship—ha. In alien speak, companionship must translate to trained sex slave. Best make note of that.

  “So that’s not why they want us then?”

  “Given all females procured are at full sexual maturity this indicates the majority of you are most likely intended for farming and taken for your specific genetic qualities.”

  “Farming, as in working on a farm?” I glanced down at the silver floor. There was an understanding, a very, very awful understanding, beginning to creep in.

  “For the farming and production of humanoid species. Your genetic profile would determine the kind of farm you’d be placed in. Some of you to produce companion slaves, others labor slaves, and some for meat production.”

  My stomach heaved. I clamped a hand over my mouth. Meat. Oh god. They’d make people have babies for meat?

  “How the fuck do we stop this?”

  I wanted to claw at my ears. Take out that knowledge. Pretend I’d never heard such a revolting thing.

  “I have your cooperation?”

  Cooperate or have meat babies? “If you can get me out of here then yes, you have my complete cooperation.”

  “Excellent.”

  A shiver twitched my skin. Only villains say excellent.

  “You room is resealed. The guards will not check inside without reason. We have only tonight to prepare and return you to your cell.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  I left the greenhouse, following the flash to another area, and into a sealed room. The lights flickered on but in this space, it was only a warm yellow glow. At least ten big white capsules filled the room. Glass computer panels lined the walls.

  “What is this place?”

  “This is the medical station.” The voice chimed from above me. “Where you will find technology to enable us to better communicate.”

  “Great.” I glanced around. “But, if we’re going to communicate, I’m need to call you something.”

  “If you must call me something, you may call me Commander.”

  I stifled a laugh. Yep, I’d already picked up on several cues my mystery friend had some real delusions of grandeur. “Not calling you Commander. Give me a name.”

  The silence in the room seemed to swell.

  “Very well. You may call me Maccamilencia.”

  “Excellent. Macca for short.” I smiled again. “So, where’s this communication technology?”

  A pod lid cracked open.

  I strode over and looked inside. The inside of the pod looked like a tanning bed full of rows of wires. “There’s nothing in here.”

  “You must enter the pod to receive the technology.”

  I inched away from the pod. “What do you mean ‘receive’?”

  “A cochlear implant. The adjustment will enable us to communicate discretely anywhere on the ship.”

  “You want to implant something in my head?” I backed up.

  “It is necessary—”

  “Necessary to implant alien technology inside my actual head?” I turned for the door.

  The room sizzled with deafening silence, then the door breezed opened. The lights flicked off.

  The medical station plunged into darkness.

  “Very well.” Macca’s voice grew chiller than the blackness. “I hear humans harvest spring lamb at three month
s. You’ll find these farms equally generous.”

  Horrific images flashed from times I’d seen documentaries on abattoirs. My stomach heaved. I gagged onto the floor, grabbing onto the edge of a pod.

  Perspective.

  Implant verses breading farm.

  I straightened slowly, wiping my mouth on my wrist. “Fine, implant me.”

  The only indication of unconsciousness was the sudden return to consciousness. I burst upright, forehead smacking into the opening lid of the pod. Pain shuddered into my skull.

  “All done.” The voice rang in my left ear.

  I clamped my hand over the ear. Oh, god, that was a weird sensation. Voices in my head…

  “You must return to your room immediately. Lights will soon be on.”

  I scooted out of the pod. My ribs ached at the memory of the cattle prod in my side. Were there worse punishments for sneaking out of your room?

  I slinked down halls under Macca’s instruction, and slipped back into the cabin. The bolt thunked closed.

  “What now?”

  The lights flickered on and the door unbolted, signaling morning.

  I grabbed my chest and backed into a wall, heart pounding.

  “Now do exactly as I say.”

  I changed into the clean white jumpsuit provided every other day, as instructed, then made my way as usual into the dining area, and sat at a free seat with a waiting bowl.

  “Be mindful that while the guards cannot understand you, they can see everything you do on surveillance.”

  I picked up the spoon and glanced at the doors. That would be right. The guards didn’t come in here unless there was a problem. It only made sense they watched on cameras. The women around me dug into their slop, chewing the gelatinous muck.

  “Do not touch your ear when I speak to you.”

  I dropped my hand from the side of my head.

  “Eat while you can.”

  I swallowed a big spoonful, gulping water in-between to get the sticky stuff down.

  “In exactly eight of your human minutes, I will place the surveillance footage on a loop, and you must address your fellow humans. Any who you are not able to convince to follow you, will be left behind.”

  My spoon clattered into the bowl.

  I was actually supposed to lead passengers off the ship— now ?