Wrong Place, Right Mate (Celestial Mates)

by Kit Tunstall

  Amourisa Press and Kit Tunstall, writing as Aurelia Skye, reserve all rights to WRONG PLACE, RIGHT MATE. This work may not be shared or reproduced in any fashion without permission of the publisher and/or author. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  © Kit Tunstall, 2016 Cover Images: Depositphotos.com/ Honored

  Celestial Mates Template by Yocla

  Cover design by Amourisa Designs.

  Editing by N.G., V.R., and CM Editing Services

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  Wrong Place, Right Mate (Celestial Mates)

  Aurelia Skye

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Bonus Excerpt

  About Aurelia

  Blurb

  Celestial Mates—Romancing the Galaxy…

  Dr. Ellie Wright worked hard to be one of the first exo-geologists in space. It's too bad her employer cuts corners and has constant problems. When she's given the wrong data for a planet assessment, she ends up on the wrong planet and in the middle of a man...er...alien-hunt for Aladrina, a Sibian crime lord. Zyan, the tracker hunting the fugitive, is a gorgeous hunk, sweeping Ellie off her feet and into an intergalactic adventure. With someone at the Celestial Mates Agency watching over them, their HEA is guaranteed, even if the route there is a bit bumpy.

  Chapter One

  Dr. Ellie Wright was so busy consulting the pictures from the satellite survey that she barely noticed when the ship switched over to autopilot to begin the landing sequence. It was only at the first jostle that she looked up. She frowned in confusion at the sight of small asteroids between her and the planet. When the Hub sent out the satellite after discovering the planet just a couple of weeks ago, she didn’t recall seeing any asteroids in the photos.

  Still, to be sure, she double-checked. It seemed unlikely that the satellite would have passed at exactly the right time to miss the entire field of small asteroids, but it was feasible. Most bounced harmlessly off the hull of the ship, so she tried not to be concerned.

  As the ship piloted her into the atmosphere, her confusion deepened. She hadn’t expected a violent hue to the atmosphere, and once again she consulted her photographs and other data from the satellite. The Hub had sent it out before sending the first manned explorer shuttle as a safety precaution. The data wasn’t matching up with what she was seeing.

  She gasped when she brought up the view screen, activating the external cameras. It was a rocky, mountainous terrain, which didn’t mesh with images provided by the Hub. They showed planet 428Z as relatively flat, with only two small continents surrounded by liquid that had remained unknown, but was speculated to be liquid ammonia. Those were the details she was supposed to discover on her trip to assess the planet.

  There had clearly been a glitch somewhere. Either the satellite had photographed the wrong planet, or she’d been provided the wrong images. She wasn’t the only exo-geologist doing surveys on recently discovered planets. At any given time, there were likely to be at least five active missions in this solar system, where their Hub had been assigned.

  With a curse, she flicked on her ansible and pulled up the Hub, immediately connecting to the communications officer. Dahlia Grey’s frazzled face was a familiar sight, and even though she was frustrated at receiving the wrong data, she didn’t want to unnecessarily burden Dahlia. With that in mind, and a sympathetic smile, she said, “I have the wrong data. I think someone else received the packet for 428Z.”

  Dahlia closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to be counting, at least judging by the way her lips moved, as though it could summon her some patience. When she opened her eyes again, she looked angry. “There’s something going on with the computer systems. Again. You’re not the first person I’ve heard this from today.”

  “I imagine one of them has my data, and I have their planet.” She tilted her head slightly. “Should I come back to the Hub?”

  Dahlia shrugged. “It makes sense to me, since you’re all flying blind, but Commander Thorson decided not to waste the resources and time it has taken each of you to reach your planet. He is authorizing you to explore as intended.”

  Ellie nibbled on her lower lip. “Without any pre-survey data? I don’t know what I’m getting into here. I’m walking in blind.”

  Dahlia was clearly sympathetic, and her tone of frustration must have been directed toward the commander. “I’m aware, Dr. Wright, and like I said…” She trailed off with a shrug, make it clear she couldn’t override the commander.

  Understanding that, Ellie nodded. She was partially relieved not to have to turn around after almost two days in ionospace, but the idea of entering the mission blindly, without any idea of the planet’s layout, was nerve-racking. “Could you put me in touch with the other pilot? Maybe we can figure out whose data belongs to whom. We could transmit it through you—”

  Before Ellie could finish the words, the klaxon screamed in her head as the ship alerted her that they were in close proximity to a large outcropping of rock. “What am I supposed to do about it?” she asked in frustration, though the ship wouldn’t answer. “You’re the one steering us.”

  When she got back to the Hub, she was going to put in a long list of complaints and suggestions for improvement, starting with the ability to allow pilots to override the ships during landing. They could take the helm during empty space, while traveling through ionospace, but the powers in charge had deemed it unwise to allow humans the ability to pilot themselves while landing.

  That was all well and good if she had the right coordinates programmed into her computer in the shuttle, but the ship was going on data provided for planet 428Z, not this unknown place. Apparently, no one had focused on programming enough to make the ship aware of when it was acting on faulty data.

  That shouldn’t surprise her, she thought with a sour twist of her lips, as she fastened the straps on her seat, unsure what kind of landing to expect. When GeoCorp had gotten the contract from the government, they had thrown together everything as hastily as possible, likely having exaggerated the extent of their progress when submitting their bid for mapping the recently available, yet still unknown, areas where humans could finally reach after a breakthrough in space travel technology. She was under no illusion that GeoCorp had gotten the contract because they were the most qualified. They had flat-out been the cheapest, and they had been willing to cut corners.

  Ellie had known that when she’d signed on with the company, but she hadn’t let it stop her. She was finally within reach of achieving her career goal of being an actual exo-geologist, rather than the theoretical exo-geologists who guessed on the nature of the composition of different planets based on data provided from their interstellar probes. When her mentor had recommended her for the program, she’d jumped at the opportunity.

  Now, she was rethinking that position as the shuttle shuddered after impacting with the rocky outcropping. The lights flickered and dimmed before the auxiliary power kicked in, and she was relieved to note the shields had held.

  It was a rough and rocky landing, especially since she couldn’t d
o anything to get the shuttle to recognize their path wasn’t clear, and she certainly couldn’t override the redundancies that kept her locked out of the landing process. Oh, she was definitely going to have a laundry list of suggestions when she got back to the Hub.

  If she got back, she forced herself to amend when the shuttle finally halted with a shuddering jolt that clacked her teeth together. Miraculously, three of the four external cameras somehow had survived the entry and the collisions, and she had a view of three-fourths of the area around her. She drew in a shuddering breath when she realized the shuttle had stopped inches away from the edge of a cliff. A shard of rock acted as a landing brake, but if it hadn’t held, the shuttle would have gone over the edge and into whatever waited below.

  Cursing GeoCorp, and her own shortsightedness at overlooking the risks in favor of getting into space, she carefully eased from the seat. She moved with exaggerated caution in the shuttle, though she doubted it was really necessary. Even if the rock broke now, the shuttle was stable, its landing gear having anchored into the rocky material at least a foot deep. It was simply her own perception, and the reality of how close she had come to the edge of the cliff, that made her move so gingerly.

  The ship continued its annoying klaxon until she found the system to shut it off. After that, she pulled up damage reports, eyes widening at the long list of repairs required before the ship could return her to the Hub. She had no communications of any kind, but she was able to activate the distress beacon, which should send out a signal to the Hub.

  The ship was designed with self-repairing systems, and she activated as many of those as she could, though she was certain some of the repairs would be beyond self-maintenance. Hopefully, none of those repairs would keep her grounded on this planet permanently, with GeoCorp her only hope of rescue.

  After that, there wasn’t much she could do on the shuttle. She could either sit there and wait for rescue, or she could explore the planet around her. At least she didn’t have to worry about it not being able to sustain life with her environmental suit. Since the mix-up had simply been exo-geologists receiving the wrong planet data, someone had at least remotely surveyed this planet, and they had interpreted the data and come to the conclusion it was safe enough to explore, at least with caution.

  Taking her time, she slid on the E-suit, marveling at how comfortable it was even though she had worn it several times on previous group missions and during simulations. This was her first solo mission, and this E-suit fit as well as the last one she’d worn. It conformed to her body, and the ambient oxygen and temperature were calibrated to be the most comfortable. There were tubes she could select to receive nourishment or water, and if she happened to need an extra burst of oxygen, there was even a tube for that. The E-suit took care of everything, and she tried not to think too much about all the details that involved. It was better to leave some parts a mystery.

  After donning her pack, and gathering up the toolkit full of her instruments, she went to the airlock, waiting for the ship to seal before opening the outer airlock and stepping outside.

  The first thing she noticed was fierce wind cutting through her. For just a moment, it threatened to knock her off her feet until she became accustomed to it. Ellie planted her feet and widened her stance, bending her knees slightly to stabilize herself as she got her first look at the planet without filtering from the cameras aboard the shuttle.

  It was desolate and rocky, with no signs of being able to support any kind of life. The sensors built into her suit could read the data for ten kilometers, but found no trace of water or any real variation in the rocky outcroppings.

  Suddenly, the sensors started to ping with a sound eerily like gossiping gerbils. She homed in on what had triggered the sensors to react so excitedly. There was movement approaching her—the kind of movement indicating life. With a fumbling hand, she set down her toolkit and reached for the weapon holstered on her E-suit. She’d been trained how to use it, but it had never felt natural to her. Ellie preferred to approach things logically and inquisitively, rather than with the expectation of defending herself. She hoped whatever was approaching was friendly, or at least inclined to leave her alone.

  Chapter Two

  Zyan was angry. The mission to track Aladrina had been an unexpected one, especially since he’d been the last one to take her in—a successful effort after weeks of tracking her, culminating with a fierce battle that had resulted in the scar on his arm and her in custody.

  How had forty heavily armed guards managed to allow her to escape as she was en route to her execution? He hadn’t hesitated to accept the assignment, both because Aladrina needed to be apprehended once more, and because he was a Karadisian, among the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, and he didn’t turn down assignments.

  Seeing this heap of rock where Aladrina had gone to ground, he was only slightly regretful he had agreed to come after her. Not that he’d had any choice, or had ever really considered the idea of not retrieving her. Still the planet would complicate the mission. It was an inhospitable place, and difficult to move around, which would make it ideal for Aladrina. With her chameleonic properties, his quarry would find plenty of places to hide on the planet.

  Not that it would save her or keep her from facing execution again. Zyan would find her, just as he had the last time, and this time he would personally deliver her to the executioner to ensure she made it. The woman had certainly earned her multiple death sentences—though only one could logistically be carried out—and he had no remorse at the idea of playing such an active role in ensuring she was eliminated.

  The band on his wrist had given him a lead, finding movement that had lit up the schematics like a bomb. The yellow glow pinpointed where he was headed on the typically green and black diagram.

  It was unexpectedly careless of Aladrina to land a shuttle, or to betray signs of life. He was certain that with her connections, she would have had all the technology needed to scramble his sensors. That was why he expected a trap as he carefully approached the site.

  Either Aladrina had come up with a clever new disguise, or his sensors had been wrong in directing him this way. The shuttle was unrecognizable from any technology he’d seen before, and as he grew closer, he realized the humanoid standing beside it couldn’t possibly be the Sibian crime lord he tracked. She was too slight for one thing, though he wasn’t entirely certain she was female. He expected she was, based on her body build, and she seemed to have breasts. That meant nothing, of course. Both the males and females of the Grogas species had enormous breasts.

  He admired this humanoid’s breasts, deciding they were very nice, and not at all enormous or out of proportion for the being’s frame. He took a moment out of his mission to admire the form before him. Whatever type of alien she was, she was certainly stirring carnal thoughts that made his body armor unexpectedly too tight.

  The closer he got, the more obvious it was the humanoid was afraid of him. She held something his scanner identified as a weapon, though it was unlikely to be able to penetrate his body armor. He moved closer to her, curious about who and what she was, and if she had any link to Aladrina.

  When he was within ten meters, she extended her weapon fully, sounding slightly hysterical when she said, “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot you.”

  He could be nice about it and convince her he was no threat to her, or he could deal with it quickly. Before she had a chance to react, he was moving. A second later, his hand fastened around her wrist as he relieved her of the weapon she had pointed at him. He tossed it aside without looking at it, having relied on his sensors, which told him it was a primitive weapon at best.

  She was feisty, kicking out at him and attempting what he supposed might have been some crude form of hand-to-hand combat. She got off a lucky strike, her hand colliding with his cheek. If it hadn’t been for his force field, he might have actually felt the blow.

  With a sigh of impatience, he simply held her against him, forc
ing her to the ground until she wore herself out. When she finally stopped squirming and kicking, beads of sweat pouring down her face through the thin membrane protecting her from the planet’s atmosphere, he arched a brow. “Are you done yet?”

  Her big green eyes grew even wider in shock, and her mouth dropped open. “You speak English?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “My translator. What manner of creature are you?”

  She clearly didn’t like that question from the way she glared at him. “I’m a human woman. And what the heck are you supposed to be?”

  “I’m Zyan Lan Par of Karadis, and I’m supposed to be tracking Aladrina. What do you know of her?”

  She shimmied away from him, but only because he allowed it. The little human didn’t get far, bracing her back against a rocky outcropping as she stared at him in shock. He ran the word human through his wristband, connected to the Interstellar Alliance’s databanks, and his computer quickly brought up what data was available.

  They were a primitive species hailing from Earth and had only recently adapted the technology necessary for interstellar travel. He was surprised by one tidbit in his databanks. More than two hundred years ago, his people had a ruler named Princess Jory, who had been married to one of the Karadisian leaders. According to his file, the Princess Consort had birthed twelve children for Zandar. An impressive number of them were female, which would have insured the continuation of the matriarchy.

  His databanks provided an image of Princess Jory, who was shorter and rounder than the variation before him. This one also had silvery blonde hair the color one of the many moons circling Karadis, whereas Princess Jory had possessed a richer brown shade.

  Humans were clearly compatible with Karadisians, and he assessed her with renewed interest. It had been a long time since he’d mated with a woman, having no time with being in high demand. All of his people were excellent trackers, but he was among the best, so there was never an absence of assignments for Zyan.