by Tia LaBeau
Alien Miner’s Bride
Moon Company Brides Book 1
Tia LaBeau
Contents
1. Location: Mars, Population: 6,456,789,234
2. Location: Asteroid Belt, Population: 123,344
3. Location: Multiple, Population: Unknown
4. Location: The Asteroid Belt, Population: 123,345
5. Location: The Bed, Population: 2.5
6. Location: Deep Space, Population: Unknown
7. Location: Mars, Population: 6,456,789,235
8. Location: Asteroid Belt, Population: 123,348
Copyright © 2016 by Tia LaBeau
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.
Cover Art by Rebecca Frank
Photography by Jenn LeBlanc/Illustrated Romance
ISBN: 978-0-9985397-0-6
To C. -
You are my rock.
Location: Mars, Population: 6,456,789,234
I work in a bar on Mars called Nero’s. Freda, my little sister, works with me. I bartend, and she’s a cocktail waitress. She’s only eighteen. I’m twenty-four.
Our parents died in the crash of 2455. They were bringing back a group of refugees from the star system Protos as a part of an evacuation of the Protean system when their ship experienced a malfunction. The malfunction caused the ship to crash. 2000 souls were lost on that voyage, human and otherwise. That was six years ago.
After my parents died, the Earth’s Juris granted me full custodianship over my sister. The only parameters were that I needed to hold gainful employment, provide a roof over our heads, and make sure that she sat for the master tests at the necessary times.
At the time of my parent’s death, I was working in a robotics factory, and I kept that job for a while until I was laid off. Then I moved on to bartending, and here I am getting ready to interview for a job with a security firm. The new job, if I get it, will pay double. The company will put me through training and everything.
It’s not that I don’t like my job as a bartender. Besides being able to look after my baby sister, it’s interesting to watch all the different sorts that frequent the bar. People come from all over the system, some human, some not. What I don’t like are the jerks that frequent here. With the system being in such influx, there’s bound to be riff-raff, and we don’t have a suitable amount of law enforcement to contain all of it.
Right now, some jerk is sitting at a table with a group of guys, laughing, running up his tab, and I don’t like the way he’s looking at my sister.
I walk over to his table where my sister is standing, trying to be a good waitress. He’s got his hand on her arm now. He’s squeezing it.
My sister is trying to play it cool, but I can tell by the look on her face that he’s holding her a bit too hard.
“You want to take your hand’s off her, motherfucker?” I ask the kid. He can’t be more than twenty years old himself. He’s got a baby face.
He laughs but doesn’t let go. “Actually, no, I don’t want to take my hands off of her,” he says.
“Get your fucking hands off of her. Or else you’re going to regret it.”
“It’s okay, Cleo,” Freda says.
“No, it isn’t fucking okay. This scumbag needs to let you go.”
“Whoa,” one of the jerky guy’s friends says. “You’re in trouble, hoss.”
The jerk lets go of my sister, stands up and says, “Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“No, I fucking don’t, and I could care less really,” I say.
“I’m Klep, the Governor of RimRock’s son.”
“So?” I place my hands on my hips.
“So, I basically run this shit,” he tells me.
He’s incredulous this one, but he looks like he could be the Governor’s son. He’s dressed well, in clean pants and a clean shirt. His boots are new, and his nails don’t have any dirt under them. It’s also obvious he can pay the thirty creds it takes to buy something as frivolously expensive as hair gel.
“I’m happy for you that you’re the Governor’s son,” I say, “but I can honestly give two fucks about it when it comes to you putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister. So might I suggest you take your daddy’s wee wee creds and get the fuck out of this bar?”
“Why don’t you make me?” he asks me. He turns his attention to my sister.“Hey barmaid, fetch us another round, and then get your pretty ass back over here.”
“It’s okay, Freda,” I say. “You take over the bar. Let me waitress.”
The Governor’s son whistles. “Well, you’re just as pretty. You’re a bit of a bitch, though, but you can still go and fetch us our drinks. Pussy is pussy.”
It takes every single capillary, muscle, bone, nerve, whatever the fuck, in my body, to stop myself from popping this sonafabitch one.
“Sure,” I say, swallowing the kill. I walk back to the bar with my fists balled up instead.
Freda is shaking. “That guy is bad news.”
“He sure is. You ought to be careful with him. I don’t want him getting fresh with you.”
Freda looks down at her watch. “Aren’t you going to be late for that interview?”
I check my own time. “Shit, I am.” Reality sets in quick. “I’m not going,” I say.
“What? You have to go. It’s a great opportunity for you,” Freda says.
“I can’t let you stay here alone with that guy,” I say, tipping my chin across the room.”
“I’m not alone. There are other people here.”
I look around. There are other waitresses. There isn’t a bouncer, though, no guards either, and the owner of the bar is older than Methuselah, literally. He’s got all his mental faculties firing on all cylinders, but he’s a tiny guy, and his body has slowed down quite a bit over the years. So, no, I don’t think he’s capable of taking down the Governor’s son and his friends. Hell, neither am I, but I can at least punch somebody in the mouth, or kick someone in the juts if necessary.
We’re working on that asshole’s drinks, and I’m wishing I was doing it back in the kitchen so I could spit and snot into his glass.
“Seriously, Freda, I can’t leave you alone with this guy,” I tell her.
Freda sighs. “Oh my God, Cleo, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you stop treating me like a baby?”
The Governor’s son whistles. I guess it’s his way of saying that I’m taking too long with his drinks. I grab the tray of drinks, but when I do, Freda grabs the tray too. “No, let me take this. Listen, if I get the guy to calm down will you leave?”
“I don’t think so, Freda.”
“Come on, please! You’ve sacrificed enough for me already, and I appreciate it, but why don’t you consider giving me a chance to take care of myself.”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice,” I say. “You’re my little sister, and I love you, more than anything in the whole world.”
I’m not lying. I’ve done some of what I wanted to do, and a big part of that includes taking care of her. To me, taking care of her after my parents died became the most important thing, and it’s still the most important thing now.
I won’t let the tray go. Freda won’t either. Like sister, like sister.
“Damnit, Cleo. If you don’t give me the fucking tray, I’m going to go over there and s
it on that fucker’s lap. Then, I’m going to show him my tits.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Dare me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Fine, take it. If that motherfucker does anything, I’ll be on his ass like white on rice.”
Freda smirks. “Why not brown on poo?” she asks. She walks off with the tray.
Freda’s right, the new job I’m going for at the security firm would be an excellent opportunity. With better pay, I could afford more for us. She doesn’t want to go to the University, mostly because of the cost, but I figure that I might be able to help her go if I can save up some creds.
I watch from the bar. Freda stands by the Prince of nepotism. He has his arm around her waist. Her back’s turned, so I can’t see her pretty little face, but her shoulders are low, so I guess that means she’s not upset.
Freda is a good looking girl. She’s petite, which she claims to hate. I think she looks cute the way she is. I’m not petite. I’m five foot seven. I weigh about 140 pounds by earth weight. I run every day after work, so that keeps me fit. I’ve been lifting weights to make sure I’m strong enough to knock somebody the fuck out.
Freda has long black curly hair. My hair is brown like my late mother’s. I keep it straightened and pulled back most of the time. Freda’s skin is paler than mine; she has freckles and hazel eyes. My skin is golden brown. I have no freckles, and my eyes are such a dark brown that they almost appear black. Both of us have my father’s slanted eyes. My father’s family originates from the Asia-Pacific portion of Earth, while my mother’s family originates from the American Republic, some I’m a mixture of racial backgrounds thrown in, but it doesn’t matter because I was born on fucking Mars, so that makes me fucking Martian.
If I don’t leave soon for the job interview, I’m going to be late for sure, and if I’m going to be late, I ought to miss it altogether. I have about five minutes to decide the rest of my future.
“Can I get a Supernova,” a female of Partroxian origin asks me. She’s got green skin, gold hair, and large black eyes.
“Sure,” I say. “Give me just a moment to whip that up.”
She smiles and goes back to playing some game on her phone.
Laughter comes from the table where my sister stands. She seems fine. She turns around and heads back to the bar. She has a grin on her face.
“We’re good now,” she says. Her words come out breathy.
“Is that so? So you chumming it up with the Governor’s son?”
“Actually, I am. The kid's not so bad. He’s rough in the mouth, but he’s not unlike the guys I went to senior school with.”
“Uh huh, so you feel safe?” I ask. I’m not convinced.
“Seriously, he’s all bark no bite. Go on to your interview. I’ve got a full can of pepper spray if I need it and rock hard knees, you know for kicking them in the juts.”
“Okay,” I say. Pepper spray will lay the guy down. It’s quite potent, and it only takes a little bit to do some damage. A full can would lay all those guys out, and a kicking in the juts, well, nuff said.
I finish making the Supernova, hand it to the chick who ordered it, and then I remove my apron.
Layla, the other girl who bartends, comes in, smacks me on the butt and says, “See ya, cutie.”
I grin. “See ya. Hey, keep an eye on my sister for me?” I ask her.
“Sure, Cleo, no problem.”
“Thanks,” I say. I wave goodbye to Freda and shoot the Governor’s son a don’t fuck with me look, and take off for my interview.
I show up to my interview just in time. A guy, by the name of Bilal, shows me to the boss’s office. “Good luck,” he says and then he takes off.
The security firm’s office is located in downtown Rim Rock. It’s dark in here. I don’t know if its because these guys are trying to save on electricity or what, but it’s kind of scary dark. Turn some fucking lights on. I should have brought a flashlight.
Since agent Bilal didn’t formally present me to his boss, Mr. Drek, I assume I’m just supposed to knock on the door and introduce myself. I take a deep breath and knock away.
“Come in,” I hear a voice say.
I open the door. Mr. Drek sits at his desk. I can tell from the distance between his head and the top of his desk that he’s a short guy. He has one of those faces that says that he came out of the tubes with a frown on his face. He’s got a bald head, big ears, and a large mole on his cheek.
“Miss. Chou,” he says. “Welcome to Rock Security, please have a seat.”
I enter his tiny gray office and sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
He holds his tablet in his hand. “I see you’ve never worked in security before.”
“Yes, sir, that’s true.”
“Well, that’s not a problem. With the influx of new traffic to Teros, you know that good security is becoming increasingly important.”
“Yes, sir,” I say. I swallow hard. My suit jacket is itching the back of my neck. It's not the jacket but the store tag which I left on the jacket that’s itching me. I plan to return the jacket to the store once this interview is over. Unless, I get the job, in which case, I’ll keep the suit and wear it to work.
“Your test scores, both physical and mental, are quite high. That’s why we called you in. You seem to have your shit wrapped up tightly. You kept it together after your parents died. You raised your sister on your own. Now, there’s just one issue I’d like to bring up.”
“Shoot,” I say. I know what it’s going to be, but I act as if I’m unaware of what’s coming.
“You were detained last year but then let go. You were found to be innocent by the investigators of this very firm.”
“That’s right, sir. I was trying to save a baby from being stolen by a whack-head druggie. I knew that druggie was going to try to sell that baby for snuff.”
“I have all the details. No need to go into it further. I must say, I’m quite impressed that you managed to stop the perpetrator. He was twice your size.”
“I like the martial arts, sir.”
I do. I’ve been digging into martial arts since before my parents died. I practiced martial arts even more after my parents died. It helped me work through a lot of shit emotionally, and well, it taught me some self-defense. I made Freda take it too. I just allowed her to quit. She didn’t take to it as much as I did.
“So good at martial arts, no-nonsense, responsible, can make a good cocktail because of your current job, I mean what more can I ask for? We could use someone like you on the team, although I have to say that we have to be careful not to use too much excessive force when we’re out there in the field. You know what I’m saying? We’re working on a lot of big things here, Cleo. I think we could really use you.”
“Yes, sir, only kick ass as much as necessary, got it,” I say.
“I have to be honest; there are those on the hiring board who worry that you might be tricky. The hiring board fears that you may be a danger to our company’s reputation. There are some who think your reaction to that junky kidnapper was a bit excessive.”
My stomach drops. My worse fears are coming true. “I understand, sir,” I say.
Mr. Drek smiles. “But screw that, I’m in charge here. If I say you’re right for the job, well, then damnit you’re right for the job. We’ll see you next spin for your first day of training.”
I leap out of my seat and clap. “Yes!” I shout. I realize where I am again, and I calm my shit down. Mr. Drek is still grinning, so at least I didn’t freak him out.
“Goodbye, Miss Chou. I look forward to working with you,” he says.
I let myself out of his office. I think I’ll take my ass back to the bar. It’s time to celebrate.
When I get back to the bar, the first thing I do is ask Layla where Freda is.
“She took off,” Layla says.
I look down at my watch. I realize that Freda should be off of work at this hour, so it’s cool.
I sit down at the bar and order myself a Supernova. While I’m waiting for it, I call Freda. She picks up on the fifth ring.
“Hello,” she says. Her voice sounds weird.
“Are you okay? Where are you? At home?”
“Cleo, oh shit, is that you?” She starts sobbing.
“Freda, honey, what’s going on?”
“I need you to come home right now,” she says.
“Is everything okay?”
“Please, Cleo, just come home.” I hear a kind of scuffling sound, but before I can ask any more questions, Freda hangs up the phone.
I dash off from the barstool. I hear Layla yelling after me, “Hey, what about your drink?”
I don’t stop long enough to say fuck my drink. I run out of the bar like my life depends on it. I hop into my Veemer O and fly home.
It takes about ten minutes to get from the bar to our apartment located in the outerlands of Rim Rock. I call Freda again, but my comm goes to her voicemail. I’m panicking now, unsure of what’s going on. All I can keep thinking is that something happened between her and that Governor’s son. Did he rape her?
My mind swirls. I think about calling Layla to see if she saw anything bad happen, but I figure that she must not have because she wouldn’t have said that my sister went home in the casual way that she did. Layla’s a sweet girl, and when she told me she would look out for my sister, I have no doubt that she did whatever was in her power to do.
The ride home feels like an eternity, but when I finally get there, I don’t even turn my Veemer off. I park it shittily on the roof lot and run downstairs from the roof lot to our apartment. As soon as I go for the knob, I realize that I forgot my damn house keys in my Veemer. I can’t open the door without the fucking keys, so I have to knock on my own fucking door like a stranger.
Freda seems to be taking forever to open the door. I knock louder and yell, that it’s me.
Finally, the door clicks open. Only Freda’s face is visible. Her face is wet with tears. I push into the apartment, being careful not to bump into her in any way, which is easy because she backs away from the door swiftly.
