Dragon's Love: A SciFi Alien Baby Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 3)

by Miranda Martin

  Looking over she's on her feet and shielding her eyes while turning a circle. I lay back down my head hurting even worse.

  "What happened?" Jolie asks.

  "We crashed on Tatooine," I groan.

  "It's Vulcan," Amara says.

  "Is not," I grouse. "Sand, fucking sand everywhere. That's Tatooine."

  "It's red and there's mountains, that's Vulcan," Amara replies.

  "Fine," I fold to the Star Trek lover. "Get Scotty to beam me up so Bones can do something about this pain in my head."

  "Just be glad you're not wearing a red shirt," Jolie quips.

  "Ugh," I groan.

  Jolie kneels down next to me and inspects my head. When she touches the back of it sharp pain stabs through the regular pounding and I cry out in surprise and pain. She purses her lips and shakes her head.

  "You got cracked pretty good," she says.

  "I can tell," I say rolling over and getting onto my knees.

  "Be careful," Jolie says helping me steady myself.

  "Sure, all the time in the world for that," I say, standing up slowly.

  Jolie holds on to me and Amara comes and helps on my other side. I lean on them gratefully until the dizziness passes. The three of us silently inspect the area. It's obvious we've crashed on a planet and not a hospitable one at that. Massive parts of the colony ship stick up out of the sand, some of them might be whole enough to use for shelter. Bodies dot the landscape that might be alive or dead. Some are moving and a few people are on their feet looking around lost. The heat is going to be our most immediate issue. My throat is as dry as all this red sand and my skin is burning. I look at my friends and can see they're burning too.

  "We need to find shelter," Amara says. "Now."

  "Yeah," I agree. "And figure out who survived."

  Jolie blanches at my words but Amara nods her agreement.

  "That section looks pretty whole," Jolie points at part of the ship that's a few hundred yards away.

  "Probably our best bet," I say. "We can gather survivors on our way."

  The three of us start trekking across the hot sand. The first person lying on the ground we come to didn't make it. Propriety makes me want to bury them or do something but survival has to come first. The next one we come to is Inga. As we approach she suddenly jumps to her feet and looks around wide-eyed.

  "Inga!" I call to her.

  She whips her head around so fast it makes my own head hurt worse.

  "You're fine," Jolie says running over to her.

  "Where are we?" Inga asks her voice cracking.

  "Tatooine," I say.

  "Vulcan," Amara says right on top of me. I glare at her and she returns it. "I won that debate, remember?"

  "Right," I agree sagging. "Vulcan."

  Inga looks between us with tears welling in her eyes. Her fair skin is bright red and starting to blister already. We have to get to shelter and find water or nothing else is going to matter. We gather Inga and continue on our way towards the massive piece of what was the only home any of us have ever known. Inga silently cries as we go and my head continues pounding.

  We find a handful of others but most of those we come to didn't survive. We gather those who did and all of us support each other trudging forward. By the time we reach the shade being cast by the broken ship I'm dizzy and my knees feel weak plus my stomach is cramping and I'm nauseous. The others are not faring any better. The heat is incredible, too much to be dealt with. I haven't seen any signs of life yet. I'm curious as to how any plant life would have to adapt to survive. Is there other life? Are we alone on this planet and doomed to die? I think if I have enough time I can figure out a way to adapt our seeds if any survived but I'd need a lab and time.

  "Finally," Amara sighs with relief as we get into the shade at last.

  We work our way along the cool metal of the ship trying to find an opening. It's huge, probably three to four hundred yards long and towering at least a hundred into the sky. It looks like a triangle with one point buried into the sandy ground. The sun is behind and the shade it casts is at least twenty degrees cooler than out of it but still hot. Several of our small group passes out forcing us to stop and help them back to their feet before we all continue. Our progress is slow, too slow. If we don't find water soon nothing else will matter.

  "I think that's the edge up there," Jolie gasps.

  Amara and I nod. I can't bear the idea of speaking anymore. My throat is too dry. I work my mouth trying to force moisture into it but get nothing. My sinuses are even burning making me not want to inhale the air. I blink trying desperately to at least force the grit out of my eyes but no luck there either.

  We reach the edge of the ship and I lean against it trying to soak up the small comfort of its coolness. Amara pushes forward and disappears around the edge. I dig up the willpower at last to follow her and make my way around the corner. The sand pulls at my legs with every step making everything even harder. This place sucks.

  Once I clear the corner the ship goes on for quite a ways but the first thing I notice is there's a tear that I can see in to and there are people moving in and out of it. They've stopped to look at Amara and I then a few of them rush over and embrace me then I fall into their arms and they carry me and the others inside. It's cool and dark and the most amazing, wonderful feeling I've ever experienced. It's perfect. Cool, no sun, thank you all the stars in heaven there's no sun beating on me!

  They get our small group inside and then Rosalind, the woman in white we met just before everything went to hell walks up. She stands imperiously tall and perfect, like even the sun can't break through her defenses. She's perfect and I swear she's not sweating which is just weird. She stares pursing her lips as if debating her words carefully.

  "What is your specialty?" she asks.

  I blink and squint my eyes focusing on her. That's not anywhere in the realm of questions I expected and I'm having a hard time making sense out of it.

  "Huh?" I ask in a display of utter brilliance.

  "Your specialty? What was your job?" she repeats speaking slower.

  Maybe it helps because it does penetrate the constant throbbing in my head even if it's not the question I would have expected.

  "Bio-chemistry," I answer her. "Specifically pertaining to botany."

  "Good, we'll need you."

  "Good?" I agree with askance.

  What does she mean good? What if it wasn't good?

  "We need to find water," I gasp.

  The Lady General motions with one hand without taking her eyes off of our group. Some of the people already inside come over with containers filled with cool water. All of us grab them and gulp. The cold hits my throat like a soothing balm.

  "Slow down," Rosalind orders.

  My stomach cramps hard as the cold hits it and I double over in pain. Amara was smarter and had been sipping her water where the rest of us had gulped. The pain and nausea recede and my headache returns to a dull pounding roar at last so I stand up and face the woman in white who has now turned her attention back to issuing orders to the other survivors.

  "What happened? Where are we? How did we get here?"

  She turns to look at me as the small group that came with me gather closer. Jolie and Inga are clinging to my arms on either side of me and even Amara has moved closer to listen. Rosalind sighs as she turns her full attention to us. Some of the other survivors have stopped their gathering and organizing to listen as well. Rosalind looks around, pursing her lips, then comes to a decision. She moves a couple of feet away and climbs on top of several crates of supplies and holds her hand up to all of us. We gather closer around her to listen.

  "All right, all of you," she says and her voice carries across those gathered easily. "Here is what we know for certain. Our ship, our home, was attacked by space pirates. They damaged the life support and sent the ship into an emergency survival condition. This means sections of the ship were sealed off and because of the damage done they broke into
sections. We crash landed on an inhospitable planet. Survival is our first priority."

  "What about rescue?" someone in the crowd asks.

  "There will be no rescue," Rosalind says.

  Gasps and cries of despair rise from those gathered. My stomach clenches into a tight knot as the enormity of the situation settles on me. I turn and look at Jolie and see the tears in her eyes. Inga is gripping my arm tight enough to cut off the blood flow to my hand which is tingling and numb.

  "Damn," Amara says softly.

  "We can survive," a beautiful blond says stepping forward to stand in front of Rosalind. Her hair is so light as to appear almost white and halo like in the red sun piercing the shadows of our shelter. She smiles and it's like a soothing ray of light passes over the crowd. "We just have to organize. Work together, we'll be all right. Someone will rescue us eventually but until then we have to work together."

  Rosalind looks down at her and nods.

  "Mei is right," she says. "We have to focus on immediate needs. Gathering survivors, fixing this shelter, food and water. After that we'll handle those who didn't make it but for now survivors first. This heat we have to be careful, does everyone know the signs of heat stroke?"

  Several people acknowledge they do among scattered muttering.

  "Who put you in charge?" a man asks from the crowd.

  Rosalind looks for the source but no one is stepping forward. Almost I think I recognize the voice but it can't be him. My head hurts so much I just push it aside for now.

  "I am Lady General Rosalind, Head of Security, if anyone else feels they are more qualified than I to lead this mission of survival, then I welcome them to step forward."

  No one does and that seems to settle things for the moment.

  A curvy girl with auburn hair steps forward from the crowd. I know her from the ship, her name is Lana. She's wearing a low cut shirt that shows off her ample cleavage and skin tight pants. She looks up back at the crowd then up at Rosalind.

  "What about the pirates? Did they crash too? Do we have to worry about them as well?"

  "I've had a few scouts sent out and we've seen no sign of their ship or them," Rosalind says.

  "But does that mean we are safe?" Lana asks.

  "What's your name?" Rosalind asks.

  "Lana," she responds, one hand on her hip.

  "Lana, I'm putting you in charge of a small team that will scout the area specifically to seek out any threats, pirate or otherwise we need to be aware of."

  "I don't-" Lana says.

  "Thank you Lana," Rosalind says cutting off her objections. "Your contribution is appreciated. Your name?"

  Rosalind is pointing at me now and my heart skips a beat.

  "Calista," I say.

  "Botanist?" she asks.

  "Yes," I say.

  "Okay, those three with you there, you all work with Lana. Calista I want you to get to work studying the local flora. We need to establish food sources. Our existing supplies are limited and we'll need to supplement them soon as possible. Any other questions?"

  Rosalind looks over the crowd imperiously. A few mutter but no one speaks up.

  "Good then get to work. We've got a lot to do. Once we gather and store most of the supplies we'll set up teams to care for those who didn't survive. Be careful, we know nothing of this planet and all our computers are gone. We're working blind."

  The crowd disperses and I turn back to my friends.

  "Well that was interesting," Amara says softly.

  "Yeah," I agree. "Guess we all have jobs to do."

  "I guess someone has to take charge," Inga says.

  "I don't want you on your own," Jolie says looking at me.

  "Yeah, me either but I don't think the Lady General is interested in other people's bright ideas," I say.

  We part ways all heading towards our assignments. I gather some water, salt tablets, and rations as well as find a poncho made of reflective cloth that the person assigned to be the survivors quartermaster says will help disperse the heat. I take it all, gear up, and head out to study the local environment.

  DRAGON'S BABY is available now!

  © 2017 Miranda Martin & Juno Wells

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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