Dark Planet Warriors: The Serial (Books 1-3)

by Anna Carven

  “No shit, Sherlock.” My voice comes out as a stutter. “This thing is arctic. Why the hell does Zyara have to freeze me half to death? I’ll start getting frostbite soon.”

  “I’m no medic,” Tarak shrugs, “but I believe the cold slows down cellular damage. Still, you Humans seem quite vulnerable to cold. I will ask her to come now and sedate you.”

  Sedate? My shoulders slump and I close my eyes. You know it’s bad when the only way you can escape your situation is to sleep. I let out a deep sigh, my warm breath misting up the faceplate again. “Dope me up then, General. And please, be a good boy and wake me when we land.”

  Tarak

  She’s quiet now, after letting out her anger. Does this tiny female ever run out of energy? Even with the wounds she’s sustained, finding herself in unfamiliar surroundings, she manages to find the strength to challenge me.

  I am rarely ever challenged. This feeling is new for me. And she has a point.

  Why did I insist on taking her back to Kythia? When I saw her, injured and broken, lying helpless on the floor, a feeling came over me.

  I wanted to make things right.

  How very un-Kordlian.

  And a deeper, more primal part of me simply wanted to take her. To protect her. Mine.

  I left the rest of the First Division on the mining station. My soldiers didn’t question my orders, intent on hunting down every last Xargek larva. They know we’ll be back to retrieve them, even if backup has to come the long way. Until their mission is complete, Fortuna Tau is under Kordolian control. If the Station proves to be strategic in our fight against the Xargek, I may even consider keeping it.

  They did not question why I was taking this Human female back to Kythia. My soldiers obey me without question. And apart from that crazy female mechanic, the Humans didn’t dare stop me. Zyara raised curious eyebrows, but didn’t say a thing.

  For the rest of this journey, she’s my responsibility. Mine.

  Her eyes flutter as she stares at me through the clear glass of her respirator. They appear green now, a blue-green filter cast across her face by the liquid in the stasis chamber.

  She looks small and vulnerable, her fragile body surrounded by various lines and monitors. She’s shaking uncontrollably.

  I did not realize Humans were so vulnerable to cold. It must be unpleasant for her. Kythia will be unpleasant for her. But we’ll worry about that when we get there.

  Sedation will be a mercy as we complete the final leg of our journey.

  She puts a hand up against the glass, as if to reach out to me.

  Her brown hair sways gently in the liquid, forming a soft, moving crown around her pale face. Her body fascinates me. Unlike Kordolian females, who are long-limbed, muscular and lean, there is a softness to her. Although hidden by a fitted, black garment, I can make out the swell of her breasts, full and rounded. Her nipples are erect, two perfect, symmetrical points. I imagine them beneath my fingers, taut with arousal.

  Her stomach is exposed, a smooth plane of pale skin leading to rounded hips.

  She is small but her body has curves. She has a loveliness to her that is distinctly Human and entirely feminine. And right now, she is completely vulnerable.

  I find myself aroused. Her appearance stirs my base instincts. To dominate. Control. Protect. The thought occurs to me that I could keep her on Kythia, when she has healed.

  But I know she would fight me, each and every step of the way.

  That thought stirs my arousal even further. Underneath the exo-suit, I am hard; painfully so. And my headache is starting again.

  I push the insanity from my mind, reminding myself that she’s hurt.

  There is something desperately sad about seeing her like this, broken and trapped, shivering and alone.

  I will ask Zyara to sedate her.

  But I cannot tear my gaze from her.

  “What are you waiting for, General?” Even though her voice cracks, she manages to inject a hint of mockery into the question. “Knock me out already.” Her teeth are chattering. She brings her arms up, hugging herself around the chest, trembling.

  Alone.

  A strong impulse overtakes me there and then. I need to touch her. To be by her side. To stop this infernal shivering of hers. I walk over to the side of the tank, mentally commanding my exo-suit to retract. Billions of microscopic nanites dissolve, entering the pores of my skin, making their way back into my bloodstream. I haul myself up at the side of the tank.

  “Wh-what the hell are you doing, General?” Her sometimes brown, sometimes green eyes have gone wide.

  “Making you warm,” I answer. I pause for a moment, suspended at the edge of the tank, surprised by my own actions. I did not think. I reacted instinctively. “If you wish.”

  She doesn’t protest at first, her lips parted in surprise. And for the first time, I see hunger in her gaze.

  I don’t wait any longer. I plunge into the tank, allowing the blue liquid to engulf me.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Abbey

  My jaw drops as Tarak does something and his nano-armor just melts away, dissolving back into his skin. What the hell? The nanites can go inside him?

  But that freakiness is not what astounds me the most.

  Under the armor, he’s completely butt naked. And he’s walking around as if it doesn’t bother him in the least.

  Oh, sweet Jupiter. I should look away. But I can’t. The General is a sight to behold.

  He’s totally ripped. Defined. Chiseled. His broad chest tapers down to a perfectly formed six pack. His arms ripple and bulge as he moves. And as I look down, catching sight of what’s between his legs, oh mercy, I can’t go on. Kordolians are so similar in appearance to Humans, and yet so different.

  This is unfair.

  I’m injured. This is totally inappropriate. This shouldn’t be happening.

  He comes up to the side of the giant fish bowl, getting up on a raised platform. Then he hauls himself up to the top, his muscles working, bunching up as he suspends himself effortlessly at the side of the tank.

  Holy hell. It’s a magnificent sight. And it affects me in the most primal of ways.

  “Wh-what the hell are you doing?” I gasp. He’s not going to get in with me, is he?

  “Making you warm,” he replies. “If you wish.”

  My mouth forms a silent ‘O’, but I can’t bring myself to protest. The sheer sight of him has caught me off-guard. I should be telling him to get the hell out of here. This is impossible. There’s a naked, aroused male jumping into the fishbowl with me, and he’s acting as if nothing’s wrong with it. He’s not bothered at all by his lack of clothes. But of course, the arrogant bastard would be like that, wouldn’t he?

  Tell him to get the fuck out of here, Abbey.

  But even though my brain is thinking it, the signal that goes to my mouth isn’t working. I’m too busy staring at his incredible physique, at the way his smooth, silver skin is marred by scars, some of them vicious looking.

  He’s fought some battles, this one. His body has a story to tell.

  It’s the body of a warrior. It’s magnificent.

  And then he’s in, dropping into the tank, and of course, I can’t move because my legs are wrapped up in that weird alien stuff. Not to mention they’re broken in a hundred places.

  The truth is, I can’t say shit because I’m aroused as hell just looking at him. Warmth pools in my lower belly, spreading to my core, right down into my pussy.

  I stare at him through my clear visor, afraid and at the same time aroused.

  The lack of air to breathe doesn’t seem to bother him. He comes up behind me, his movements fluid and graceful. Strong arms surround me, and all of a sudden the cold is gone.

  I take a deep breath, shuddering as my bare skin comes into contact with his. Unable to help myself, I lean into him, savoring his warmth.

  What the hell am I thinking? I should tell him to get out.

  But I can’t. It feels too go
od.

  A monitor starts flashing. I’ll bet it’s from my heart rate going through the roof. Moments later Zyara rushes in, takes one look at us and promptly runs out, not saying a word. In other circumstances, I might have called the expression on her face ‘hilarious’. I might have laughed out loud.

  In other circumstances.

  My body doesn’t lie. The monitors don’t lie.

  As if this couldn’t get any more embarrassing, even though it’s amazing.

  Why does it feel so good? Damn it.

  Tarak isn’t moving. He simply holds on to me, the warmth from his body seeping into me, taking away the terrible chill. Being totally submerged doesn’t seem to bother him. The lack of air doesn’t bother him. How long can he hold his breath?

  His large hands are curled around my upper arms, his fingers tracing my skin.

  Seriously, if it’s going to be like this, maybe I don’t need the sedation. I could stay floating in a stasis tank with a big, warm, muscular alien for weeks.

  This one just happens to be a General, a hardened fighter, a warrior of a fearsome alien empire. I don’t even know that much about him or his culture.

  This is madness.

  He pulls me into him, and the hard length of his cock brushes against my ass. Sweet Jupiter, it’s as impressive as the rest of him. No disappointment there. And there are some interesting, er, variations down there.

  Despite his arousal, he’s incredibly careful, skillfully avoiding the various lines and objects attached to my body. He’s gentle, making sure he doesn’t hurt me in my injured state.

  He doesn’t do anything else, simply holding me in his arms.

  Talk about surreal. “This is unfair, General,” I protest, not sure if he can actually hear me while he’s submerged. But the truth is, I’m enjoying the feeling of his hard body against me, basking in the heat radiating from him.

  My teeth have stopped chattering. That terrible, bone-deep sensation of coldness is gone.

  And I’m worlds away from Earth, speeding towards a foreign planet, my fate taken out of my hands. Has a Human even set foot on Kythia before?

  What if they fix me up, only to sell me into slavery? Or what if they’re going to dissect me like a lab specimen?

  I don’t really know what the General’s true motivations are. What if he’s just toying with me?

  Yes, he’s attractive, in an exotic, alien way. But I can’t afford to let that turn my brain to mush.

  I start to push him away, resisting his embrace. At first, he’s immovable, but after a while, he responds to my movement by disengaging, swimming slowly up to the edge of the tank, pulling himself out in a single, powerful movement.

  I turn away, on purpose. I don’t want to look at him.

  I’m unnerved by the effect he has on me. Maybe it’s better to be sedated.

  “You play dirty, General,” I complain, as the liquid’s temperature drops again. He’s taken all the warmth with him. “The odds aren’t even.”

  “Odds?” He’s returned to the front of the tank, and he raises an eyebrow. He’s still naked, as if it’s the most natural thing in the universe. Well, I guess it is.

  He’s standing there in all of his infuriating, unselfconscious glory, his dripping wet body glistening under the muted glow of tiny blue lights. I’d call him arrogant, narcissistic, a show-off, except he’s not trying to impress anybody. He just is.

  Are all Kordolians like this? Or is it just him?

  “I’m at a bit of an unfair disadvantage right now, don’t you think?” I glance down at my mangled legs. The pain has left me again, courtesy of whatever Zyara is pumping into me through those twisted cables. But my body looks as if it’s been through hell.

  “Then I shall wait until the ‘odds’ have balanced out.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And will you please put some pants on? Do you even have pants, or do you just wear that freaky nano armor all the time?”

  Tarak looks at me in genuine surprise. “Does my current state somehow offend you? Does it not please you?”

  “It’s indecent.”

  “You weren’t thinking such things when I was in there with you.”

  “You didn’t give me much of a choice.” I let out an incredulous snort. “And you were trying to lecture me about decorum?”

  “There is nothing unbecoming about my state of undress.”

  I shake my head in exasperation. This must be a Kordolian thing, because I really don’t get it.

  He’s still aroused. I’m stuck in a giant fish tank while a very attractive, very naked alien debates with me over his lack of attire. Said alien was only recently wrapping his warm arms around me.

  What was he thinking?

  What was I thinking?

  “Zyara,” I yell, hoping she can hear me. “I need drugs. Can you tell this big silver jerk to leave me alone, please?”

  This situation is spiraling out of control, and it’s starting to freak me out. I get the feeling nothing good will come from whatever is happening between us. A sudden thought occurs to me.

  “General,” I say, “you’re not going to, uh, try anything while I’m under, are you?”

  He stiffens. “You think I’m capable of something so dishonorable?”

  I answer with a pointed stare. “You tell me.”

  He seems genuinely offended. After what he just did, I’m surprised it’s such a big deal. I sigh. Kordolians. I don’t understand them at all.

  At least he seems to actually be offended by the alien equivalent of date rape. That’s reassuring, I guess.

  “I cannot take pleasure if the other is unwilling.” He leans close to the tank, and all of a sudden, his seamless, black attire is back, the nanites or whatever they are forming millions of tiny black dots on his skin that seem to mesh together in an instant. The armor stretches along his arms, extending down his torso and legs. Once again, he’s fully clothed.

  And the liquid that was on him sluices to the floor, forming a blue puddle around him.

  “Neat trick,” I try not to gape like an idiot. I really need to find out how he does that. It looks like the nanites have been implanted into his body. He appears to control them at will. It’s unthinkable technology, light years beyond what Humans are capable of.

  I shudder. What else are these Kordolians capable of?

  And what the hell are they going to do to me?

  I’ve never been this helpless before. “General,” I whisper, feeling lost. “You’re going to make sure I get fixed, aren’t you?”

  He stands rigidly, his jaw set in a hard line. “I don’t go back on my word.” Then his voice softens. “Get some rest, Abbey. I’ll get Zyara to attend to you.”

  I nod in thanks, still disbelieving of the whole situation. He leaves me alone, merging with the shadows of this strange, alien ship.

  Tarak

  I encounter Zyara in the corridor. She regards me with a silent look, her purple eyebrows raised.

  “Not a word,” I snap, annoyed that she witnessed my moment of weakness.

  Her incredulous expression doesn’t change. “What’s gotten into you, Tarak?” She breaks the formality by using my first name, something she rarely ever does.

  She’s one of the few who would dare. But then again, she’s been with the First Division since the beginning. She’s witnessed everything we’ve done in the name of the Empire, good and bad.

  “What I do with the Human is none of your business, Medic.”

  “It is when she’s my patient.” Zyara steps forward, her orange eyes glowing in the dimly lit passageway. “The only reason I let it slide was because I knew you wouldn’t harm her.” She averts her eyes for a moment, in embarrassment.

  “It’s heartwarming to see that you have such faith in me.”

  “What are your plans for the Human, General?”

  “I will see her fully restored,” I reply. “It’s my responsibility.” Behind Zyara’s intelligent gaze, a thousand que
stions burn. But she doesn’t ask me anything further. I owe her half an explanation, at least. “We’ll be in communication range with Kythia soon. I will be sending backup to Fortuna Tau.” I know what she’s worried about. I’ve left the entire First Division on the Human station, to deal with the Xargek.

  She should know better.

  “It will take much longer to reach the Station, now that the wormhole’s collapsed, but I’ve calculated that the main concentrator we left on Fortuna Tau has plenty of reserve. The Humans should have fixed their supply by then. I’ve changed my mind, Zyara. I have plans for that little outpost.”

  “Cryptic as always, General.”

  “You should know by now that I will never abandon my troops.”

  “Yes, and of the thousands you command, the First Division holds special meaning for you, doesn’t it?”

  I choose not to answer, turning my gaze towards the entrance of the medical bay. “Your patient needs your attention, Medic.”

  Again she tries to pin me with that questioning stare. “The authorities on Kythia aren’t going to accept her, you know. Without your protection, she’d be in danger.”

  “You let me worry about that.” On Kythia, lesser species do not have rights. They’re assigned to the servant classes. The High Council will challenge me, and I will fight back. These days, I’ve come to relish my battles with the ruling class. I have nothing but disdain for those pampered, self-indulgent fools.

  “From what I’ve seen, she’s not going to be happy about it, when she realizes how things are.”

  “Again, let me worry about that.” She’s right. Abbey won’t be pleased at all. She’s stubborn. Obstinate. She will argue and complain and fight. She has no filter and speaks her mind at will. Without fear.

  I find it strangely refreshing.

  The very thought causes my erection to return.

  She won’t be happy at all. But if that’s the price to pay for her to be healed, then so be it.

  I will deal with the aftermath when it comes.

  Abbey

  Drifting in and out of sleep, I hear faint voices outside. It sounds like the General’s debriefing Zyara on the little situation she just walked in on.