Alien Paladin's Woman: SciFi Alien-Human Military Suspense Romance

by Vi Voxley

  "I think the people who dole out death the way you do are most frightened of it," Tieran went on, watching the miniscule reactions on the assassin's face. "You see it up so close. You see how bloody and painful it can be. Sometimes your employers ask for suffering, do they not?"

  Tieran never raised his voice, but a drop of venom crept in when he said that. To his credit, Sar Rahan still hadn't moved from where he'd stopped in the middle of the room.

  There was nothing in his immediate vicinity that he could have used as a weapon, which was why Tieran had chosen the place. Posing as a potential customer with more money than brains, it had been way too good for Sar Rahan to pass up.

  Still, the paladin had no illusions about the assassin. Men like that were never unarmed.

  "You would know," Sar Rahan said bitterly. "If you managed to lure me here. If you stayed so still I didn't notice the trap. You must be very good."

  "I am not an assassin."

  "No?" Sar Rahan said, the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice. "Vengeance then, perhaps? Are you a loyal guard of someone I have killed? If you give me a name, I will happily point you in the direction of those who hired me."

  Tieran stepped forward, just enough to emerge from the shadows he'd hidden in. The light of the city below illuminated him and Sar Rahan's face dropped.

  The paladin wasn't surprised.

  He knew how he looked, how intimidating his form was. After all, Palians had bred and modified their elite warriors to resemble the most feared beings in the galaxy. There was something about a tall, wide-shouldered form of a man that spoke universally of power, and the paladin was all that and more.

  Like the dreaded Brion generals and the mysterious Corgan clan lords, Tieran was a towering warrior capable of facing anyone in the galaxy. His deep hazel eyes stared the assassin down.

  The confusion was plain in Sar Rahan's eyes. They were painted golden, a trademark of the Kaleshi, a species with dark blue skin that spawned many brutal killers like the one before Tieran right now.

  "I don't know you," Sar Rahan admitted, telling the truth for perhaps the first time in his life. "What are you?"

  "I am a Palian."

  Sar Rahan laughed, but it sounded forced and ungenuine, utterly humorless. Seeing that Tieran did not join him, the assassin stopped and silent hatred crept into his voice, his expression growing cruel.

  "Palian," he repeated. "You don't look like them. I've dealt with a few. They're tall, with those big, horrible lidless eyes and that sickening look of being so fucking smart. Definitely nothing like you. So you are a liar."

  "I am a paladin," Tieran replied, allowing himself a small shrug. "An elite warrior of Palians."

  "Palians don't have warriors," Sar Rahan snapped. "They're peace-loving and – "

  The small smile on Tieran's lips forced the assassin to shut up.

  "Well, fuck," Sar Rahan finished.

  As crude as that was, Tieran agreed with the choice of phrasing. He watched Sar Rahan's shoulders slump as the assassin came to understand what he was up against. He wasn't facing a nobody, but someone whose very existence was kept secret from most of the galaxy.

  For good reason.

  Sar Rahan was looking at him, the assassin's golden eyes trying to pierce his gaze. In return, Tieran never took his eyes off the man in front of him. Compared to his impressive bulk, the assassin was shorter, but the paladin had seen vids of his work. Sar Rahan was damned fast and agile, hiding weapons in his crafted, dark suit.

  More so, he could use his own body as a weapon.

  It wasn't in Tieran's nature to underestimate the enemy, especially one skilled enough to warrant his attention in the first place.

  "What does it depend on?" Sar Rahan asked then, a morbid sort of acceptance in his voice.

  "What does what depend on?" Tieran asked.

  "Your willingness, preparedness to die."

  "On the cause."

  Sar Rahan nodded as though he understood. Unlike others, more arrogant species, Tieran actually believed he might. Just because an enemy was despicable to the paladin didn't mean he could not be intelligent.

  "If you really are a paladin," Sar Rahan said, "that does not surprise me."

  He was silent for a moment before continuing.

  "I heard rumors, you know," he muttered, looking somewhat ponderous at his own words. "That you guys existed. I didn't believe them, but here you are. Must mean I did something very bad. What was it? Tell me that, at least. Was it someone important?"

  "Every life is important,” Tieran responded.

  Sar Rahan snorted, but there was no viciousness in him as he did so.

  "Even mine?" he asked, the golden eyes flashing. "How about mine, paladin?"

  As an answer, Tieran drew his glaive. Immediately, two long knives appeared in Sar Rahan's hands from seemingly out of nowhere.

  "Answer me!" the assassin growled, backing away from Tieran as he approached.

  The paladin recognized the fighting stance Sar Rahan chose. He'd seen it before, but even without that advantage, he simply knew the man was no match for him.

  He walked slowly towards Sar Rahan, seeing the fury burn in the man's gaze. A part of the man already knew he was going to die, but wasn't willing to take it lying down.

  Tieran was grateful for that. Killing people who didn't resist was the sort of execution he didn't enjoy. As long as they fought, they stood a chance, even if the result was ultimately decided the moment he had walked into the room.

  "Answer me, you fucking bastard!" Sar Rahan yelled to him.

  "There is nothing I can say that you don't know already," Tieran replied, twirling the long glaive in his hand to loosen his muscles. "You deserve to die, while most of those you killed did not. You never asked about them, never cared, never heard out a plea.

  “You were very good at it. You managed to elude the law for long years. Long enough for word to reach me. So here I am."

  "I only did my job!" Sar Rahan protested. "Nothing a soldier wouldn't do!"

  A humorless smile appeared on Tieran's lips as he drew nearer to his retreating enemy. All the confidence Sar Rahan had stepped into the room with was gone.

  "A soldier serves for a greater purpose. You? Your greater purpose is wealth. But worry not. My brothers and I will bring down all those who hurt others. Even armies."

  "And what about you?" Sar Rahan demanded. "Sounding all high and mighty. There are worse than me out there. Who made you the judge, jury and executioner?"

  "Perhaps there are," Tieran allowed, finally stopping with the assassin's back to the glass, staring at the end of Tieran’s glaive. "This is what others never understand about my people. We don't think we can end all evil. We don't delude ourselves into thinking we can help everyone. We merely do what we can. You caught my attention. And now it ends."

  With a cry, Sar Rahan attacked, but Tieran had been prepared for him before he ever laid eyes on the man.

  The two men clashed together, the glaive versus the long knives. In any other battle, the weapons would have been nothing to Tieran, but Kaleshi were unnaturally fast and deadly.

  Everywhere he looked, the blades seemed to wait for him. It gave the paladin a better perspective of what Sar Rahan's victims must have felt like. How overpowered, how helpless. Now the assassin was tasting his own medicine, backing away towards the window.

  Once or twice, his blades cut against Tieran's armor, but they never pierced it. In return, the glaive got stuck in the magnificent dark suit Sar Rahan wore, catching without penetrating. It took only a few seconds for Tieran to catch on to that, though and after that, his blows were aimed at the assassin's hands, uncovered as they were.

  The fight was one-sided, but most of Tieran's were. Still, Sar Rahan managed to be the first person to surprise him in long, long years. The assassin turned and jumped right against the window when Tieran thought the fight to be but one strike away from ending.

  Glass rained down on the city below as Sar
Rahan fell.

  Only to be caught by Tieran. Before the enemy could say or do anything else, the glaive cut through the air in two perfect strikes, piercing Sar Rahan's hands deeply enough to make him drop the knives. Sar Rahan howled in pain, hanging, impaled by his hands, outside the room, with the wind whipping at his clothes.

  Then Tieran hauled the enemy back in, dropping him on the floor before his feet. Sar Rahan crawled away from him, panting. Blood was running down his cheeks, cut by the breaking glass. He raised his golden eyes to the paladin, looking at him with pure loathing.

  "Why didn't you let me fall?" he demanded. "I already know I must die. I thought you weren't cruel, you Palians!"

  "We are not," Tieran the paladin confirmed, pointing to the building below them. "We are also not careless. I know how resilient and tough you Kaleshi are. Survival was a possibility."

  Sar Rahan was staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

  "So you saved me to kill me?" he growled. "That is cruelty of an entirely different kind! To take away a man's hope."

  Tieran’s expression changes. He watched the assassin nearly jumping out of his skin as he glared down at Sar Rahan, bleeding and helpless on the floor.

  "Don't tell me about hope," he said very quietly.

  The assassin still heard him, though. Through the broken window, hushed sounds of the city crept in, but in the room, not even air dared to move before Tieran's terrifying gaze.

  He goads me into this… And for some reason, I relent, Tieran thought, swallowing the bitter pill.

  "I know about your specialty," the paladin went on. "Devising traps for your victims that gave them hope of survival, only to dash them at the last moment. Playing on their will to live, only to snatch every chance away.

  “You were the tool of the maddest and cruelest people in this galaxy. The chosen of the worst people alive. You think you and I are the same? You think to call me an assassin because we both kill? You are nothing but a murderer. I am justice."

  The paladin sheathed his glaive. Seizing Sar Rahan by the collar of his suit, Tieran dragged him up to kneel before him, pulling a long dagger instead. The assassin stared right at him with the golden eyes, all fight gone out of him after the menacing speech.

  The blade in Tieran's hand cut slowly, with clinical precision, through the weak points of Sar Rahan's suit. The assassin's mouth dropped open, but not a cry of pain emerged. The paladin was, after all, an expert in killing.

  There was nothing brutal about it to the Palians, who knew exactly how to end lives without any torture involved. And so he worked, like a surgeon, removing a soul from a body that was no more than a vessel now.

  His skill was evident by the fact that Sar Rahan almost looked peaceful as he died. Tieran never turned his head away, witnessing the man’s last moments with all the revered silence of a man of worship.

  The Palian creed of mercy and kindness applied to everything. That included ending the lives of those who cared nothing for their values.

  Tieran left the body behind, his duty done. Mere hours later, he boarded a ship to a much preferred assignment, leaving Garon and its once feared assassin as nothing but a distasteful memory behind him.

  Protection came so much more naturally to him when it wasn't done in hindsight.

  1

  Audrey

  The artificial sunlight woke her.

  Audrey opened her eyes, infinitely thankful for the light green lenses she wore ever since she'd first set foot on Verien. They helped reduce the brightness in her quarters, but at least Audrey had asked for the imitated sun.

  The world outside her quarters was a whole other matter. Verien wasn't the most welcoming planet in the galaxy.

  Mighty beautiful though, Audrey thought cheerfully and threw her legs over the edge of her bed.

  Back on Terra, she'd been a morning person, honest and true, but on her adopted home world she hated getting up.

  Sliding out from under her thermal blanket, Audrey's bare feet touched the floor.

  She howled a word that didn't suit her position as the governor of Verien one bit and brought forth an urgent knocking on her door.

  "Are you okay, Miss Price?" a voice called to her.

  Her helpful Palian assistant Pelar sounded very worried.

  "Yes, yes!" Audrey called back. "Why is the floor heating turned down?"

  Pulling her long furry boots on, she could hear Pelar shuffling around in the common area separating their rooms. Then the Palian woman came back. It was funny how someone could make walking sound apologetic.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Price," Pelar said. "The station went into energy conservation mode last night when the storm eased up, but I forgot to turn it back on this morning."

  Audrey considered that. The temperatures on Verien were temperamental to say the least. Even the mildest day seemed arctic to her, but that she'd been able to get used to. The nights were an absolute nightmare, however.

  That was when the ships cracked in two and every living being stupid enough to still be outdoors died with the blood in their veins frozen solid. It was Verien telling them in no uncertain terms that they were courting death every minute they spent there, and that they were not welcome on the cruel world.

  It was in Audrey’s nature to be somewhat stubborn, however, and tame what didn't want to submit. She welcomed the challenge. It was the main reason she'd taken the job, although there were plenty of planets in the Galactic Union that had sandy beaches and little umbrella drinks that also needed governing.

  "It's fine," she called back to Pelar. "Just don't let this happen again. I don't want to lose my toes. I'm very fond of them, you know."

  She could hear soft, nervous chuckling answer her. A moment after, Pelar left to prepare their meals while Audrey walked to the cupboard to pick her outfit for the day.

  The sunlight imitation was still shining in through the fake window on the wall of her room, but in truth about twenty feet of steel and heating layers separated her from the planet's surface. When Verien was being particularly moody, Audrey often compared it to bitching, but it was her bitch and she'd be damned if anyone said a bad word about it.

  The mirror in her closet looked ready to crack from the cold and Audrey stared at it suspiciously for a second. The surface seemed to shiver as much as her, but they were both fine as far as she could tell. The room was wired to set off an alarm if the temperature dropped to life-threatening levels and that included any objects that might harm her when breaking.

  After a long moment of daring the mirror to explode, Audrey started dressing. She shook her limbs, looking at her reflection dancing in it like she there were ants crawling all over her.

  The suit she slept in made her look like a polar bear on two legs, in her opinion. Amusing, but necessary. She was short for an arctic predator – but average for a human – and considerably less furry. Audrey's naturally green eyes were made lighter by the lens that shielded her eyes from the intense glow of the endless snow fields.

  She was nowhere near the bulk she would have needed to actually pass for a bear, but she had curves and some meat on her bones. Even that was a plus on the planet. Skinny girls suffered the most with temperatures like that.

  Long, silver-blonde hair made her look like some sort of an ice queen, but she planned to cut it off soon. There was no practical reason to keep it as such, although Audrey loved the look of her hair, even if the memory of Ulor still haunted her.

  She tried to be firm. Everything on Verien went by practicality, including her hairdo, if need be.

  In the end, she chose one of her regular light blue suits with matching pants and a sweater that was warmer than it looked. On any world with a Palian presence, most of the things were not what they appeared to be. The kind, nurturing, hardworking species had an answer for every problem.

  Very soon, they'd promised her, even the dreadful cold would be “fixed”. Audrey could hardly wait.

  On top of all the bulky clothes she was already
wearing, she threw a long coat lined with the fur of a white animal. Audrey could only guess which.

  Definitely not a polar bear. They would have been prey on Verien.

  "Good morning, Governor," Pelar greeted her when Audrey walked out of her room, falling easily into step by her side.

  Audrey liked the young Palian girl. She was honest and dutiful like all of her kind and the morning's carelessness was completely unlike her. Audrey supposed they all had much on their minds those days. The excavations in the deep mines were nearing their breaking point. They'd either find something to make the planet worthy of being inhabited or they'd leave.

  It was as simple as that. The Galactic Union had no need and no trained personnel to spare on a planet that gave nothing back but bills, and the icy temperature was heaping them up like nothing else.

  They made for an interesting pair, Audrey and Pelar.

  Pelar was pale, shorter than her and thin to the point of absurdity, but Palians weren't built like Terrans were. They didn't need the lenses, even with their large lidless eyes leaving them unguarded against the searing light outside. Her head was shaven, but despite it she still managed to look feminine and sweet.

  Personally Audrey thought beauty was completely wasted on Verien, at least while it was in its initial stage of colonization. Until they could safely climb out of bed every morning, people of all species and genders focused on their work and little else.

  "What's the situation?" Audrey asked, walking through the corridors with a fast pace.

  Pelar struggled to keep up with her a bit, but she was used to getting busy as soon as she got warm.

  "Everything is good," her assistant reported. "The first shift of miners has eaten and gone down to the mines."

  "Did they follow their workout routine?" Audrey asked.

  "Yes, Miss," Pelar confirmed. "As you demanded."

  The mines down below the surface of the planet were treacherous. At first they were deceptively warm, away from the cutting winds that could flay a man, but in the deeper levels the cold crept in even through the protective suits.