Alien's Challenge: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Outlaw Planet Mates) Page 2

  The train snaked through the mountain pass, a black streak oozing through the gray stone and snow.

  “Now?” Perrigaul’s hovercycle rocked forward.

  “Wait.” Their timing had to be perfect.

  “Now,” Perrigaul said. He wanted revenge as much as Faris. Randevere planted a lot of knives the day he betrayed his business partners and left them for dead.

  Faris clamped a hand on his companion’s shoulder, keeping the impetuous youth in place. Faris had been twenty-five when he was transported to Reazus Prime. Perrigaul had been eight.

  Eight.

  Faris knew what he had done but couldn’t imagine what crime a child, little more than a hatchling, could have committed that warranted a life sentence on an inhospitable rock. The child wouldn’t have survived on his own for more than a day, and Faris distrusted the male who proclaimed himself the hatchlings’ protector. Impulsively, Faris made a trade for the child. They’d been like brothers ever since.

  Perrigaul hadn’t liked Rand when he joined the crew, which should have been Faris’ warning. The youth had an uncanny ability to sense trouble that saved their tails more than once.

  “Come on, I’m freezing my frills off,” Perrigaul grumbled.

  Faris ignored him. Perrigaul was soft, too soft for this world, and that was partly Faris’ fault.

  The train sped forward, gliding on the mag levitation track. Their timing had to be perfect. They only got one shot at this.

  “Now,” Faris said.

  He pushed off, his hovercycle speeding down the steep slope toward the maglev tracks. Snow flew past him, thick in the air.

  The bikes wanted to connect to the tracks. Internal sensors were drawn forward, ready to dock and zip along at ludicrous speeds.

  With a jolt, his bike hit the track. The machine hurtled forward, the last car of the train growing closer. They had moments to connect before the train entered the tunnel; a force field would shut out any stragglers hoping to hitch a ride.

  Reazus Prime was a dangerous place, full of criminals and miscreants. Ne’er-do-wells would take a hovercycle down a mountainside just to rob a train.

  Faris would know.

  The bike inched closer to the train. Faris deployed the leash. Power zipped down the tether, forcing a connection between his bike and the train’s security system.

  The display on Faris’ control blinked. Success.

  A glance to the side showed Perrigaul struggling to make the tether connect. He smashed buttons, his mouth moving in shouted curses that the wind swept away.

  The tunnel grew closer.

  Faris told Perrigaul his bike was a pile of expensive junk, all flash and no substance, but the youth wouldn’t hear it.

  “Now or never,” Faris said, knowing that Perrigaul would not be able to hear him.

  Power crackled and fizzed along the tether.

  The train entered the tunnel, plunging into darkness. The security field slammed down on the other side of his bike, close enough to shave off the tip of his tail.

  The bikes docked along the back of the caboose.

  Now came the tricky part.

  Faris climbed aboard, a plasma blaster strapped to his back while a small arsenal of various weapons of destruction decorated his person. Using an iron lever, he pried open the back door.

  The male guarding the door jerked in surprise but never shouted his warning. He crumpled to the floor after a blow from the pry bar.

  “No style,” Perrigaul teased, stepping over the fallen guard.

  “Brute force is a style.”

  Perrigaul removed his blaster from his holster, the weapon humming to life. “Setting to stun?”

  “Yes. I’d prefer not to make any corpses today.” He stepped over the stunned male. “It’s not this poor bastard’s fault he works for Randevere.”

  Randevere, though…

  The mere thought of the male left a sour taste on Faris’ tongue. If he had the chance to make Randevere a corpse, he just might.

  They advanced through the train cars. Faris had the guards stunned and bound before they knew what was happening. Most did not require extra attention, but a few hardier males needed to stay unconscious.

  Brute force was a style. His commanding officers from the Imperial Forces would not find the description flattering, even if it was accurate.

  Perrigaul worked on unlocking doors and bypassing alarms.

  “I’m appalled at the security, really,” Perrigaul said, stepping over a male who lay on his side.

  “Don’t get sloppy. There’s five more cars to go,” Faris said.

  “How many carriages on a train does one male need?”

  “One for him and the rest for his ego, plus baggage,” Faris said, his tone dry.

  Perrigaul laughed, his frills rippling along his neck. “The others think you just grunt and stab people to communicate. No one believes me when I say you have a sense of humor.”

  Faris preferred it that way, honestly. He worked hard to hone a reputation that encouraged people to leave him the rotza alone.

  Finally, they reached the luxury compartment near the front of the train. The guards there were no more competent than those at the back of the train. Once bound and no longer a threat, Faris opened the last door.

  He tried hard not to think strategically about what waited on the other side, about the number of guards, their weapons, and how to extract their target without damage.

  The surprise on Randevere’s face, however, was worth all the weeks of planning and the fortune spent on bribes.

  The barely clothed human female he pulled in front of himself to shield his body with, however, was a complication.

  Chapter 2

  Faris

  A human.

  Rotza.

  Rotting rotzas.

  Faris knew Rand had attended an auction of salvaged goods. Nearby asteroid belts damaged plenty of vessels, leaving them stranded and drifting. Scavengers would tow the ship to the nearest station with salvage rights of the cargo. The good stuff—mostly weapons, some luxury goods, but who was sending that to this stinking corner of the universe?—went up for auction. The rest was sold for scrap. Plenty of junkyards were full of abandoned ships, picked over for parts.

  Rand was supposed to have purchased an antique blaster, a real gem in pristine condition.

  Not a breeder.

  There must have been a pod at the auction and he couldn’t help himself. Faris didn’t know if Rand planned to fill a nest with her, but the male liked pretty, expensive things. Conspicuous consumption could be his house motto.

  “Owenfaris, fourth child of the Eternal House. I am honored,” Rand said, a slow grin spreading over his face.

  Faris kept his face neutral. He would not give Rand the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort at the sound of his full name.

  The human female twisted, trying to break free, but Rand pinned her against his front with a strong arm over her shoulder. She wore a golden collar, a leash, and thin cloth wrapped around her torso.

  Rand held the antique blaster in his other hand, hanging loose at his side.

  “Rand.” Disdain dripped from Faris’ voice. “Hiding behind females?”

  “Randevere,” he snarled. “Use my name. You disgrace your house, but you will not disgrace mine.”

  The female spoke. It sounded like babble, the kind of disjointed and broken speech that hatchlings utilized.

  “Shh, pretty one,” Rand said, pressing the side of his face into her hair.

  Humans were so odd-looking. Fragile, like a strong wind could break them. Lacking protective scales, their nude skin was exposed for all to see. No claws. No tail. No spurs on their heel. Utterly defenseless.

  Yet so much fur. The poof of fur on top of their heads looked like the downy feathers of hatchlings. Two thin strips of fur hovered over their round eyes. Humans were cute. Painfully cute. Faris could not understand how anyone would want to mate with one, even if humans were celebrated for bein
g universal breeders.

  Some genetic quirk made human DNA compatible with nearly every form of sentient life. They were highly sought after, especially the female, by species with low birth rates. On a planet like Reazus Prime with a low female population? Human females fetched a small fortune at auction.

  The concept of owning people like property turned Faris’ stomach. How could a male mate with a female so helpless?

  Rand loomed over the female. His scales shimmered in the light. Once they were vivid blues and purples, even flashes of gold. Now they were as red as Faris’ own raggedy scales.

  Reazus Prime had changed them both.

  “Let the female go,” Faris said.

  “You do not dictate the orders, lordling—” His words were cut off.

  The female kicked backward, slamming her bare foot into Rand’s knee. He yelped more in surprise than pain, but he must have eased his grip on her. She darted to the side, grabbing the blaster.

  She pointed it at Rand, babbling in that nonsensical hatchling speak.

  “You do not know how to use that,” Rand said.

  She huffed, then flicked a switch. Lights along the barrel of the blaster flickered to life. Frankly, Faris was amazed the ancient batteries still had power.

  “You would not use that,” Rand said.

  “Do you have rotza for brains? Do not challenge the female,” Faris said.

  She glanced at him, the blaster never wavering from her target.

  Slowly, her lips pulled back and she bared her teeth, blunt with no fangs. So strange.

  Rand tugged on the leash. She jerked forward. As she did, she pulled the trigger, hitting Rand in the shoulder.

  Perrigaul sucked in a breath. Faris did the same. The blaster made an alarming clicking noise but remained stable. For the moment.

  Rand fell to the ground, screaming in pain. She tumbled down next to him, still attached by the damnable leash. The blaster bounced against the floor, but she never lost her grip.

  “Bad human!” Rand screamed. “They said you were trained.”

  The female struggled to her feet, smashing the side of the blaster against Rand’s face.

  “Don’t!” Faris warned. Aging power cells were notoriously unstable. Any jostle and the entire unit could explode into plasma and shrapnel.

  The female looked at him. She jerked the blaster at Rand.

  “Do not,” Faris said. She said something in angry tones. “I agree. He deserves it and worse, but that blaster is old and unreliable.”

  Again, angry words. Her eyes—round, with round pupils—glared at him like he had caused her offense. She then slammed the butt of the blaster into Rand’s nose.

  Faris suddenly understood the attraction to humans.

  “If you set the blaster down, I will incapacitate Randevere,” he said.

  She gave him another sharp look but complied.

  Perrigaul bound Rand, all the while the male made threats and promises of retribution.

  “Be quiet, Rand. Do not make me stun you,” Faris said, half-hoping the male would continue to talk. Stunning Rand into unconsciousness had its appeal.

  “You think you can steal from me? You?” Rand spat, missing Faris’ boots but making his contempt clear. “I will hunt you down and reclaim what is mine! I will tear the frills from your neck…oh wait, that’s already been done.”

  Faris yawned, then hit Rand with the stunner. The male twitched satisfyingly, flopping around on the floor before finally passing out.

  Perrigaul nudged him with the toe of his boot. “I think you used too low a setting. That should not have taken so long.”

  “Oh? That’s a real shame.”

  Alice

  “He can file a complaint with my boss,” the big one said.

  The smaller one laughed. Well, he made this clicking noise that could have been a laugh. The big one didn’t seem alarmed, so probably a laugh.

  “I didn’t mean to do that,” she said, stepping away from Randevere’s unconscious body. Her finger slipped. Honestly. She only grabbed the gun because Randevere didn’t seem to think she was smart enough to take it from him, so fuck him. But shooting him? Not the plan.

  Pistol-whipping him had been pretty satisfying, though.

  Alice raised a hand to cover her mouth and hide her smile. That hadn’t been like her, but she’d never been abducted by aliens, sold, and then used as a meat shield, so maybe that was like a stressed-out her. Except stressed-out Alice went camping to avoid mean comments on the internet, not bash people’s noses in with guns.

  Nothing made sense.

  Big watched her, the quills on top of his head flexing up and down.

  “I’m not a violent person. I’m a librarian,” she said.

  He tilted his head and looked almost sympathetic, as if he understood her existential crisis. He was big, red, and covered in scales. She mentioned that already. His face was grayer, like the scales had faded with age. They looked rough and worn. Feathery quills at the top of his head were a deeper red with white scattered in.

  Small, standing next to him, was a vivid scarlet by comparison, all shiny like he oiled his scales.

  Big was…hot? Rough, absolutely, but it worked for him. Two legs, two arms, a tail—but who was counting? Humanoid or human-ish enough. He wore a long woolen coat, open to reveal a tight-fitting shirt and trousers. The trousers bulged in the right places too. He had a silver fox vibe going on, which was so weird because he was a massive red lizardman.

  Maybe it was gratitude at being rescued from Randevere, or maybe it was the lingering effects of whatever her abductors drugged her up with, but Alice wondered what he looked like under his clothes.

  “What is wrong with me? You’re an alien, and you can’t even understand a word I’m saying.” She pushed her hair out of her face. Adrenaline and fear had kept her going since she woke up, but she’d crash soon. “I want a shower, a brush, food, and I want to go home.”

  Alice didn’t care if that sounded whiny. She pistol-whipped an alien asshole, and she was going through something. Let her whine.

  Okay, snap decision. Big and Small seemed to dislike Randevere as much as her, which made them all right in her books. The enemy of my enemy and all that.

  “I don’t know who you are, but I’m coming with you,” she said.

  Big blinked at her.

  She sucked in a breath. His eyelids didn’t move, but a gray membrane moved across his eye from side to side. Oh, and his pupils were vertical slits, but that wasn’t so strange. He was the same type of lizardy-looking alien as Randevere with red scales, flexible quills at the top of his head, and a tail.

  Lizard people. Sure, why not? Since waking up in the warehouse, she’d seen lots of aliens. She just never really looked at their eyes before.

  And she thought that was hot?

  Alice glanced at him again, just to be sure.

  Yup, still hot.

  “Can she understand us?” the small one asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  The quill’s on Big’s head flexed up and down. “Female, allow me to remove the collar. Sentient beings are not property.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” she said.

  Holding still, Big hacked through the collar with a knife. She tried real hard not to think about what a knife could do to her neck if she moved, or the blade slipped. Finally, the cursed thing fell away.

  “Thank you,” she said, rubbing her throat.

  “She understands. The translation chip is defective,” Big said. The quills on his head went flat. “Or Rand enjoys it when his breeders speak like hatchlings.”

  “Breeders? No, no, no. I was his pet,” she said, needing to erase the mention of breeding from the conversation. No one was breeding anyone, hot lizardman or not.

  Big patted her on the head. “See? It is cute.”

  “I’m not cute, you scaly bastard.” She slapped his hand away.

  “Adorable,” Small said, sounding less convinced.
r />   She shook a finger in warning at Small but continued to speak to Big. “I’m coming with you.”

  He watched her, the quills flexing up and down. Eventually, he let out a low hissing noise which reminded her of a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. You make no sense. You better come with us.”

  Alice grabbed her blanket off the floor.

  Yeah, this wasn’t going to cut it.

  “I need shoes and clothes.” She lifted a foot.

  The red guys looked at each other. The smaller one’s side ruffles flexed and went flat.

  “Is it speaking?” he asked.

  “Shoes. Cold.” She hopped from foot to foot, then mimed shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing to keep warm.

  “The female’s chip is defective. She is speaking nonsense.” The larger one glared at her like it was her fault. “I believe she is telling us that she requires footwear, and she is cold.”

  “Yes!” Alice sighed, never so happy to be understood.

  The big one stripped Randevere of his boots. He then cut her blanket into narrow strips. Getting the idea, Alice wrapped the cloth around her feet and stuffed the excess into the toes of the boots.

  Good enough.

  She stomped in a circle, getting the feel of her boots. “Thank you,” she said, giving the big one a smile.

  He gasped.

  “What did they do to her teeth?” the small one asked.

  “What? Nothing.” She ran her index finger over her teeth just to make sure. Everything felt fine.

  “They took her fangs.”

  “That is barbaric,” Big said, not sounding surprised.

  Being misunderstood was getting real old, real fast.

  “Alice,” she said, putting a hand to her chest. “I’m Alice.”

  “Al-iss,” Big repeated.

  “Yes! That’s my name.”

  “I think that is the female’s name,” Big told Small.

  Real old, real fast.

  Faris

  “I will take Alice to repair her chip,” Perrigaul said. He reached out a hand to stroke Alice’s hair.

  “No,” he growled. “Do not touch her.”

  Perrigaul jerked his hand back. “No? Why is that?”