Tchaikovsky: Stargazer Alien Barbarian Brides #3

by Black, Tasha

  Tchai sat on her knee. He looked up with great interest as she began lining tiny powder vials on the table in front of him.

  “Mah,” he said importantly, waving both arms at the vials.

  “Yes, that’s food for you,” Angel agreed. “It will make you grow big and strong.”

  Tchai made a squeaking sound and managed to knock over one of the vials.

  “Careful, buddy,” Angel told him.

  She grabbed her insulated bottle. It still had about four cups of precious filtered water in it. Maybe there was a way to get freshly filtered water in the kitchen. That alone would be worth the trip.

  She measured out a half cup and stirred in the milk, vitamin and carbohydrate powders.

  Tchai watched, intermittently smacking the top of the table with his tiny hands.

  “Do you want to try this?” Angel asked.

  He looked up at her, blue eyes dancing.

  She smiled at him, forgetting his meal for a moment.

  He really was a sweet boy.

  “Hey, look at you,” Peter said as returned. “Did you make him some milk?”

  “Sure did,” Angel said.

  “Nice, here you, go,” Peter handed her a composite baby bottle.

  She opened it and poured the mixture inside, then replaced the lid.

  “Want to try it, Tchai?” she asked him.

  He leaned back into the crook of her arm, tiny fingers splayed around the bottle as she held it for him.

  She watched expectantly as he took his first pull, reveling in the feeling that she was caring for this baby, providing for him.

  But Tchai’s little face squeezed up angrily and he batted the bottle away as if it had offended him.

  “What’s wrong?” Angel asked.

  “You said that’s milk?” Peter asked her uncertainly.

  “I added vitamin C and a carbohydrate substitute,” Angel said.

  “Let me try it,” Peter offered.

  Angel shrugged and handed it over.

  Peter took a taste of the bottle and made a face that was comically similar to Tchai’s expression after tasting it.

  “That’s horrible,” he said in an accusing way.

  “It’s nutrition,” Angel said.

  “Nutrition doesn’t have to be like that,” Peter said.

  “We’re in outer space, it’s not like farm-to-table is an option here,” Angel pointed out.

  “Do you not have cold storage on your ship?” Peter asked in wonder.

  “I guess not,” Angel said.

  “You’re scavengers,” Peter said, looking like he had figured something out. “You probably use your cold storage for perishable booty.”

  “Maybe?” Angel ventured.

  “Well, around here, we use cold storage for food,” Peter said.

  He pulled a few containers out of the box he’d brought in. The contents were colorful. Tchai sat forward and gave his father an enormous open-mouthed smile.

  “You want your fruit, don’t you?” Peter asked.

  “Hah,” Tchai panted, mashing the table with his little fist.

  Angel watched as Peter warmed up a small, red packet between his hands.

  “What’s in there?” she asked.

  “Ilderbry fruit,” he replied. “I’m told it tastes like strawberries.”

  “So it’s not from Earth,” Angel said.

  “No, it’s from my people’s old world,” Peter said. “Well, that’s where the fruit originated. Now it’s grown hydroponically since Ardor is a closed planet.”

  “What does that mean?” Angel asked.

  “Hydroponically?” Peter asked.

  “No, what’s a closed planet?” she asked.

  He nodded slowly and rearranged the packet between his hands, causing Tchai to squeal a little with excitement.

  “Not yet, little one,” Peter said. “Soon, it is almost ready.”

  Angel laughed.

  “A closed planet is exactly what it sounds like,” Peter said. “It’s not open for visitors or imports and exports. Guests are allowed by invitation only.”

  “So the whole planet is like… a nightclub?” Angel asked.

  “I suppose,” Peter said. “The abundant natural resources of the planet allow its occupants to be completely self-sustaining, so they can afford to refuse trade and immigration.”

  “Your people must be very private,” Angel said politely.

  “Oh, it’s not my people, not anymore,” Peter said with a bitter half-smile. “My people were always delighted to meet new races and learn about other worlds. Probably too much so.”

  “What happened?” Angel asked.

  “We received guests who liked our planet,” he said. “They wanted to stay, asked our government to sign a guarantee that they wouldn’t be asked to leave. We were too naive to imagine that what was signed wouldn’t protect our own rights.”

  “My god,” Angel breathed.

  “Within a year we were all shipped out,” he said. “None of us has ever seen our home again.”

  “How old were you?” Angel asked.

  He laughed.

  “Would you believe I wasn’t even born yet when it happened?” Peter said. “Although I swear sometimes I can remember it. My people are nomadic now. We work in whatever capacity we can. At first many were desperate enough to fight in the pits. The rest of the galaxy took to calling us barbarians, and the name stuck.”

  “That’s terrible,” Angel said. “Can you do anything about it?”

  “Not really,” Peter said.

  “Can’t you go back, storm the Bastille?” Angel asked.

  It occurred to Angel that he probably didn’t know who or what a Bastille was, but he obviously got her intent.

  “They’re a wealthy planet,” Peter told her. “They’ve used Ardor’s resources to turn her into a fortress. And they’ve used their credits to buy off every government in the galaxy. If my people wanted to invade, no planet in the system would sell us the ships to get there or the arms to pick up the fight, even if we could afford them. It’s over.”

  “Paradise Lost,” Angel mused.

  “I guess so, yes,” Peter said, looking from her to the baby and back again. “But I say paradise is where you make it. Ready for some ilderbry, Tchai?”

  “Ahhhh,” Tchai agreed heartily.

  “Want to do the honors?” Peter asked, offering Angel a spoon and the packet.

  “Sure,” she said.

  Tchai nearly knocked the spoon out of her hand in his eagerness to be fed.

  “Easy, little man,” she admonished him.

  He slurped up the first bite with gusto. After a moment he closed his little eyes.

  “It’s cold, isn’t it, son?” Peter asked. “That’s why we had to wait.”

  Tchai opened his eyes and smacked his lips.

  Angel prepared another bite.

  “What about you?” Peter asked. “How long do you plan to travel the universe? Are you going to try to go back to Earth?”

  Angel blinked at him.

  “You don’t know?” she asked. “Of course you don’t, you’ve been trapped on this ship.”

  “Know what?” he asked.

  “At some point during my time in stasis, the portal to Earth closed,” she said. “That’s why my pod was lost for so long.”

  “The portal to Earth closed?” he echoed, looking thunderstruck.

  “Yes,” she said. “Even if I had anyone to go back to, I couldn’t go home again. The pod I was in floated for about two hundred fifty years before it was found.”

  “So you were suited up to begin in the Space Cadets and never made it at all,” Peter said.

  “Exactly,” Angel nodded. “When I woke up I was on the Stargazer. Our captain goes to auction and buys up any stasis pods occupied by females. She does her best to save as many of us as she can from the pleasure ships.”

  “That’s… amazing,” Peter said.

  Angel bent to give Tchai another bite of
fruit.

  When she looked back up at Peter she swore there were tears in his eyes.

  “It is,” Angel agreed. “I’ll always be grateful to her. She also trained me in my new skills so I can be a treasure-hunter. I’ll work for her until I pay her back what she spent on me at auction.”

  “You’re an indentured servant?” Peter sounded horrified.

  “We’re not abused,” Angel said quickly. “And we understand. She’ll use the money we bring in to save more women.”

  “What do you mean we?” he asked.

  “She’s done this before,” Angel said. “That’s how she crews her ship. I was found with two other women, Anna and Raina. We were trained for the Cadet program together too.”

  “I see,” Peter said.

  “Anyway, working for Mama isn’t so bad,” Angel said.

  She could see the confusion in his eyes.

  “She’s not anyone’s mother,” Angel explained. “At least, as far as I know. We just call her that. I guess because she takes care of us.”

  Peter nodded.

  “I might even stay on after my debt is paid,” she told him. “If I do that, she’ll pay me. I can save the money, buy my own ship, heck, maybe even get a crew the same way she did if I have enough money at the outset.”

  “Have any of her other workers done that?” Peter asked.

  “At least two that I know of,” Angel said. “We’ve seen her sub-contract them in on bigger jobs. She’s not blowing smoke up our asses, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense,” Peter said quickly.

  “I know, I know,” Angel said, feeding the baby another bite. “I get it. Whatever her reasons were, she did buy me. It doesn’t feel right, but it is what it is. I’m grateful not to be on a lifetime contract on a pleasure ship.”

  “You have no idea,” Peter said.

  Angel looked up.

  There was a haunted expression in his dark eyes. His jaw was clenched.

  “Did you… ever know someone who was on a pleasure ship?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds.

  “I was on one,” he said, thrusting out his chin.

  Angel felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I didn’t mean as a customer.”

  “Neither did I,” he replied.

  Oh.

  She fed the baby another bite as she scrambled to think of what to say.

  “I’m sorry,” she said at length. “Is it as bad as they say?”

  He tapped the table top with his fingers for a moment without answering.

  She wiped the berry from Tchai’s cheek with her thumb and licked it off. It did remind her of strawberries.

  “We don’t have to talk about it, Peter,” she told him softly.

  “When I visited as a customer it didn’t seem so bad,” he said. “Please don’t judge me. Barbarians can be very… lonely.”

  She nodded, biting her lip.

  “I feel it’s only right to start by sharing that part,” he said. “I’m not innocent.”

  “Lots of people enjoy the pleasure ships, or there wouldn’t be so many of them,” Angel allowed.

  “The females seemed so eager,” he said slowly. “It seemed like I was only giving them what they wanted.”

  She nodded.

  “When money was tight and my grandmother was ill, I wasn’t sure what to do,” he went on. “I volunteered to fight in the pits.”

  Angel had never seen it firsthand, but she knew pit fighting was terrible. From what Mama said, dozens of fighters died every year, and those were only the reported deaths. The only way out of the pit was to kill your opponent or render him unable to keep fighting.

  “I had the bad luck to fight a guy who was only doing it for kicks,” Peter said. “Rich kid with parents who were pretty unhappy when I broke both his legs. I did it so I wouldn’t have to kill him.”

  Angel nodded.

  “The intergalactic defense league came for me. My only choices were prison or the pleasure ships. One of the officers must have been on the take from the recruiters.”

  Angel nodded, willing herself not to show him how upsetting she found his story.

  “I didn’t want to go to prison,” he went on. “And if I worked on a pleasure ship, there would be an annual purse to send to my grandmother. So there was never any question what my choice would be.”

  “Were you able to save your grandmother?” she asked, hopeful that there was some bright lining to his tale.

  “No,” he said bitterly. “She died while I was in there. It turns out that the reason the pleasure workers always seem so eager is that we’re drugged to make us feel endless desire, a desire that can’t be satisfied. I was too crazed with lust to ask questions. They never sent her a single credit.”

  “Oh, Peter,” Angel said, tears springing to her eyes.

  “I spent two years under the hands of anyone who would touch me,” he continued. “I was very popular with human females. They liked to torment their lovers and they felt I was especially responsive. I was taken to the dungeon where they could play with me to their hearts’ content and no one could hear me beg. I don’t remember much from the final few months.”

  “How did you get out?” Angel asked.

  “My brothers,” he said, a smile back on his face. “One moment I was lost in my haze and then the two of them were there, tossing those cruel women aside and breaking me out of my restraints.”

  Angel nodded.

  “I was a mess for a while when I got out,” he said. “The drugs had to work their way out of my system, which wasn’t pretty, and then the shame set in. But they cared for me until I was myself again. Then they helped me get a job on this ship, no questions asked, by taking work for themselves with the same employer. They called in some favors, and we were each made head of security for one vessel in the convoy.”

  “Family,” Angel said.

  “Exactly,” Peter said. “Family is everything. Without mine, I would still be in that collar. But now they’re gone.”

  Something occurred to Angel.

  “Did you say that each of you was put in charge of one vessel?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Two others exactly like this one?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “My friends, Anna and Raina each boarded one of the other two ships stranded here,” she said.

  10

  Peter

  Peter felt a thrill of hope.

  He hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of hope in the days he’d spent alone with Tchai. It was too hard trying to escape the bad thing and to learn how to feed and care for a human infant.

  “Are you sure they were exactly the same as this ship?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she said. “Do you think it’s possible your brothers were put into stasis like you were?”

  Peter nodded, afraid to even speak the words.

  “If your brothers are alive, my friends will find them,” Angel assured him.

  She looked positively triumphant.

  He loved the dimples on her cheeks, and the way the starlight made her dark hair shimmer. She was beautiful, inside and out.

  Desire tugged at him, threatening to pull him under.

  He fought against his fear.

  This was his blood mate. This was the only woman who could truly satisfy him.

  “Angel,” BFF21 called out as she zoomed into the room.

  “Hi, BFF21,” Angel said. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet,” the little drone admitted. “It’s a sequencing code, so the bar keeps moving.”

  “So you can’t open it?” Angel asked.

  “Of course I can,” BFF21 said indignantly. “But it may take longer in human time than you deem worthwhile.”

  “How long?” Angel asked.

  “One to three hours maximum,” BFF21 said.

  “One to three hours?” Angel echoed.

  “Maximum,�
� BFF21 said.

  “I guess we don’t have much a of a choice,” Angel said. “What do you think, Peter?”

  “It will be time for Tchai’s nap soon,” he said. “But I’m sure we can make him comfortable in the cook’s quarters.”

  “Sounds good,” Angel said.

  “I’m back to work then,” BFF21 said.

  Peter watched her zip back to the hallway.

  Tchai yawned and leaned his head against Angel’s chest.

  “Looks like someone is ready for his nap now,” she said.

  Tchai looked very happy there, but Peter knew the little one would soon grow too heavy for her arms.

  “Come on,” Peter said. “Let’s find him a place to sleep.”

  Angel took the hand he offered, her touch sending an electric shiver of lust down his spine.

  He helped her up and they wandered deeper into the galley. They crossed what felt like a mile of checkerboard tile floors to find the cook’s chambers beyond the furthest set of freezers.

  Peter pushed open the door to reveal a simple suite decorated in shades of gray. A large bed filled most of the room. Beside the bed was a chest of drawers.

  “Should I put him in the middle of the bed?” Angel asked.

  “No, no,” Peter said. “That’s too dangerous, he could fall off. We’ll use one of the drawers.”

  “You want to put the baby in a drawer?” Angel asked in horror.

  “We’re not going to close the drawer,” Peter chuckled.

  He slid one drawer out of the dresser and grabbed a pillow from the bed. The drawer was deep enough that it still provided a contained area for the baby.

  He placed the drawer on top of the dresser, then turned back to Angel.

  “May I hold him?” he asked. “I can probably get him to sleep quickly.”

  “Sure,” Angel said. “I could use a bathroom break.”

  She put the sleepy baby in his arms.

  Tchai whimpered a little, but when Peter began to rock him he settled right in.

  His warm weight felt so good. Peter inhaled his sweet baby scent and then began to sway him in his arms. His grandmother’s song rolled easily from his lips and he sang to the child about the rolling fields and wildflowers of Ardor.

  He didn’t even notice when Angel left the room.