Hunted By The Alien Assassin by Ella Maven

One

Karina

I was not optimistic about my current situation. My rough estimation for the likelihood I’d see tomorrow was … forty percent. Maybe forty-five if I were lucky but seeing as I was a human abducted from Earth, I could safely assume luck was not on my side.

Anyway, my chances were less than fifty percent, which I’d beaten before. Today didn’t seem like a good day. With my hood pulled low over my eyes, I pretended to drink my glass of gray-ish liquid which smelled no better than paint thinner. Even just inhaling the stuff made my eyes water and my nose prickle.

The crimson alien tending the bar in this hole-in-the-wall space station—nicknamed Bad Seed—watched me curiously with his one bulging eye. I tried to avoid his undulating, amoeba-shaped pupil as it scanned my face. One of the reasons I didn’t think luck would be on my side today was because I could feel my disguise melting off my skin as my temples dripped with sweat.

This had never happened to me before, but then again … things had never seemed quite this dire. And based on the direction my life had taken over the last few years, that was really saying something.

The two aliens responsible for my current internal panic were still conversing with each other casually, having no idea that I, the human who was the topic of their conversation, sat a few feet away.

Well known on this station, the two big Rogastix were green, horned aliens who were fairly humanoid with nasty tempers. Gruk was the larger of the two, a little lighter in color, and a lot dumber. Virt was smaller, darker, and intelligent. But he also had an ego the size of Texas so that knocked him down a few IQ points.

They were loan sharks and made a killing since everyone on this station was trying to barter whatever they could to either hide or get a flight out. That was one of the reasons I’d chosen to lay low here after my last mission. The turnover was in my favor. There were few permanent residents… except for Gruk and Virt.

I listened closely as they talked. I’d been fitted with a translator implant by my initial captors, and since getting free, I’d updated as many languages to it as I could on various planets and stations.

“Heard Bosa might be on his way. Wouldn’t want that Kaluma hunting me,” Virt was saying. “Heard you don’t even know he’s there until he caves your head in with his bat.”

“Not even a word first? What if he’s got the wrong guy?” Gruk asked.

“He’s never got the wrong guy.”

“Who do you think he’s looking for?”

Virt shrugged. “Don’t know.”

But I did. He was looking for me. Or at least, human me. And today I had on my best disguise. Harigots were small creatures—usually reaching about four feet tall, but their females could be as tall as five-five. It had taken many months for me to gather all the materials for my disguise as well as learn the jaunty gait the harigots used. My features were still a little fine, and if anyone looked really closely, they’d know something was up. But a small haricot-looking female drew almost no attention. They were not a coveted species by any stretch and were typically ignored.

I tuned out the Rogastix. I’d heard enough of their conversation earlier. The Kaluma hunting me must have been hired by Frenz, since that insect-looking bastard wanted me dead. Or more likely, he wanted to make me pay for all the trouble I’d caused him. I didn’t even want to think about what making me pay might mean. In all honesty, I was probably better off getting my head caved in. I didn’t know much about the Kaluma species, and I’d never seen one in person. I only knew that when the Kaluma assassin Bosa was hired to find you, he never failed.

My right leg was shaking with nerves, and I gripped my thigh in an attempt to stay calm. I couldn’t show I was about to lose it. I couldn’t run out of here like my tail was on fire. I had to casually get up and walk out like nothing was wrong.

I stood up slowly and I steadied my legs. The Rogastix paid me no mind, and the bartender didn’t even glance my way. One foot in front of the other, I walked toward the swinging door leading outside.

As I pushed the door open and took a step out into the small alley of the space station, my brain whirred a million miles an hour. I lived this long only because of my wits, but right now they were failing me. I was letting the legend of this guy fuck with my head, and that wasn’t good. I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. He might be some famous hunter, but I was Karina Black, and while I’d been through some shit, I always came out on top. I steeled my spine and began to walk in the familiar harigot gait, keeping my head down and my upper back rounded.

I should get off this station. If he was headed here, then I wanted to be anywhere but here. Eavesdropping on gossip was the reason I visited various watering holes on the space station. And finally, I heard some rumors that would hopefully save my life. If I succeeded.

Bad Seed wasn’t a large station. There were several docks that looked like they’d seen better days jutting out from a rectangular hub which contained meager lodging, a small market, a few brothels and more than enough bars. I estimated I’d been here about a week, and I’d made a few credits by cleaning the lodging trailers for the owner. Female harigots were known to be hard workers and laborers, so my offer wasn’t out of place.

With my head down, no one paid attention to me, too focused on the scantily clad brothel workers and the vendors selling all kinds of wares. I made it to the row of metal lodging housing in record time. They consisted of two rows of five rooms, stacked on top of each other in what would have resembled shipping containers back on Earth. When I’d last been on my home planet, tiny home living had been all the rage. Those YouTube videos made it look glamorous, but nothing about the lodging on Bad Seed was glamorous.

My room was on the top row, and I scampered up a ladder at the end before traipsing across the narrow walkway until I found my room. Before opening the door, I knelt down to check my homemade alarm. A thin piece of string connected the latch to the frame of the door. It remained intact, which let me know no one had entered since I’d been gone. While I had a supposedly brand-new key, the owner was a Uripon who was known for hustling and lying.

I yanked the door open which snapped the string. After stepping inside, I immediately rushed to the sack on the floor holding my meager belongings. I didn’t actually care about most of it, but I refused to leave behind my one possession left from Earth—a necklace that had been given to me by my grandmother. I rarely wore it, worried it would be detected as foreign and stolen. No one would think twice of yanking it off my neck and selling it for some food.

But if I was leaving this planet, I wanted it on my body in case my sack was stolen. After ripping open the sewn pocket, I reached inside until my fingers closed around the familiar smooth hardness of the pendant. I draped the gold string over my neck and shoved it under my cloak. Just then a quiet thunk sounded from behind me, like the latch of my door. Panic shot through me like a flare. I whirled around, fists up, but nothing was there. Just my closed door. Had I locked it from the inside when I closed it? I couldn’t remember, but the lock was engaged, so I must have done it on instinct.

“Keep it together, Karina,” I whispered to myself. “Not much longer now.”

Next, I used the basin of water in the corner to scrub off my disguise. My ticket off this station was from an alien who only knew me as a human. If I showed up in my harigot disguise, he’d turn me away immediately.

As the fur and makeup washed away in the bowl, so did my confidence. I might as well have been naked now. I no longer had the protection that allowed me to walk around freely in this station. I removed my cloak and blotted my face with the fabric.

The pendant swung between my breasts over top of my thin tank. I exhaled roughly and turned around just as the whistling sound of something slicing the air reached my ears.

On instinct, I dropped to all fours just as a spiked bat slammed into the wall above me with a metallic crunch and enough force to separate my head from my neck. My heart leapt into my throat as I fell back onto my ass and looked up into a pair of glowing blue eyes.

I’d never seen anything like the Kaluma in my life. He was massive, probably close to seven feet tall, covered in bronze scales with wicked looking spikes jutting from the top of his shoulders. His white hair was nearly fluorescent, shaved on the sides and pulled back into a long braid that draped over his shoulder. White marks swirled over his chest and up his neck like tattoos.

Terror iced my muscles. I couldn’t move. Or think. I could only stare as the giant assassin wrenched his bat from the wall and hefted it over his shoulder. How had he gotten in here? Just a moment ago, I’d been alone…

The muscles in his forearms flexed as he regripped the bat like he was gearing up for a grand slam. A sneer twisted his full lips, and I knew I should say something. Plead for my life. Ask for time. Bargain. But all I could do was stare into those enchanting eyes that squinted with hatred. What had I ever done to him?

This was it. My end. I’d made it this far. I’d done so much good, but I’d always known my time was limited. I reached up and grasped the end of the pendant, the one my grandmother had worn during her years working as a nurse during World War II, and my great-grandmother who’d worn it during the depression, refusing to sell it no matter how desperate times had been. It’d brought my family luck, but apparently luck was nothing when faced with a Kaluma assassin.

I looked up, expecting to see the business end of the bat crashing into my face. Instead, the Kaluma stood motionless in front of me. His face had gone slack, lips slightly parted, and his glowing eyes were locked onto my pendant. His chest heaved, and the white of his tattoos seemed to shimmer. A shudder ran through his body before his eyes closed, and he shook his head. “No,” he guttered out in a deep voice full of anger.

And that one word was what finally spurred me into action. Grabbing my sack, I punched the hole out of the side of the container, just big enough for my body, that I’d made the day I moved in as an escape route. Diving out, I hit the ground below on a roll. I was off running as I heard a roar echo from the containers, nearly vibrating the grates at my feet. I didn’t look back. For now, I was free and on my way to the cruiser that would take me off this station. Away from the Kaluma with the spiked bat. I kissed my pendant, smiled to myself, and ran harder. I’d beaten the odds again.

* * *

Bosa

I stared out through the hole of the human’s room, watching as she raced away with surprising speed, dark hair flowing behind her in a brown sheet. I poked at the ragged edges of her escape route with my bat, considering smashing my way through and giving chase, but decided against it. This was the fun part—the chase. Drawing this out made me hard. It wasn’t the first time my prey had gotten away from me. It wouldn’t be the last. I always caught them in the end. I’d catch her too.

I sank down on the bed pallet in the corner and checked my bat for damage. The galaxy council wanted her alive, which was a little unusual. I was known as an assassin after all. They had specified they weren’t worried about shipping and handling damages, but she had to be breathing when I delivered her. Still, I hadn’t intended to hit her—I only wanted to scare her and make her freeze up before I went in for the grab.

Unease slithered through me, and I let out a low growl. Instead, I’d been the one to freeze. When she’d whirled around with her pale face on display, her hair flowing freely, and those light eyes, I’d been caught off guard. Only for a second though. I’d been all ready for the capture until I caught sight of the stone around her neck. The pattern of the wire wrapped around the blue stone had been… familiar. My hand subconsciously rubbed at the white matz on my chest and neck. The echo of the slight burning I’d felt tracing the swirls lingered.

Yerk no. It meant nothing. She was a human. A human who trafficked her own, who betrayed the most helpless of her species by pretending to aid in their escape only to turn around and sell them for profit. This human was selfish. Greedy.

I’d expected her eyes to be cold, dead, lifeless. I’d looked into the eyes of someone who betrayed his own, and they’d been like that. But hers… well they’d been a lot like the human females I’d met before—the mates of the Drixonians who seemed to care too much about everyone. Was this human who I tracked capable of selling her own?

I shook my head and slammed my bat down on the floor, letting out a wry laugh as I did so. Since when did I analyze my jobs? Yerking Sherif. It was all his fault. His softness was rubbing off on me. Yerk all that. No more emotions. I’d enjoy the chase like I always did.

With a stretch, I rose from her bed pallet. Nothing was left in the room, not even a crumb of food. She’d grabbed her sack when she’d leapt out of her hole. I had to admit, that was a smart little escape hatch. She was a devious little thing, wasn’t she?

With my bat over my shoulder, I whistled as I left her room and descended to the floor of the space station. I didn’t bother hiding now, as my presence no longer needed to be a secret. I wondered if someone tipped her off though. Word spread through this galaxy at the speed of light. Had she known I was on my way?

As I strolled through the market, I purchased a roasted leg of artificial tarker, which tasted almost like real meat. Bad Seed wasn’t known for its food, as most of it had to be processed from plants that were grown—albeit not that well—in an engineered green house. It made sense she chose this space station, but she would have been better off in a larger one. All I had to do was look for who didn’t fit. Her disguise had been good, I’d give her that. Everyone would have fallen for it … if they weren’t me. I’d waited until she washed off her disguise to verify her real identity, but I’d been sure long before that when I watched her try to mimic the posture of a harigot female.

As I walked, aliens of all shapes and sizes skittered out of my path. I’d been here about a cycle ago on another job, and the whole capture had been messy and public. I hadn’t really intended that, but the little yerker thought running into a crowd was going to deter me. So, I’d had to make an example of him, and it hadn’t been pretty. In fact, I swore I could still see some stains on the metal grating from his blood loss.

He’d deserved it though, having been responsible for stealing Rogastix infants and selling them off to the Gattrix to feed their young. So, it was his fault he’d lost his limbs slowly. In front of a crowd. While naked.

A silent shock zapped through my brain, and I winced, then growled as I tapped the receiver hidden in my earlobe. “I told you I’d let you know when the job is finished,” I rasped.

“Right, that’s what you said, but I never agreed to that schedule of sparse updating.” Gurla’s prim voice echoed came through my earpiece.

I snapped my jaws at a passing Uripon who nearly crashed into me. His eyes went wide as he tripped over his feet before racing away.

“Did you just scare someone?” Gurla scolded.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I sighed. “Maybe I liked you better when you were scared of all of us.”

She let out a soft cackle, and I heard her speaking to someone nearby. Probably one of her mates, Wensla. A few cycles ago, our clan had been ruled by a pardux who had crippled our society with his paranoia and greed. Fortunately, with the help of our new Drixonian allies, we defeated him and had been working hard to rebuild ever since.

The females of our clan, now free to contribute rather than live only in service to the former pardux, proved excellent at tech. Bolstering our capabilities allowed many of us Kaluma warriors to travel off-planet with skills for hire. I was the only one who worked consistently and into the far reaches of the galaxy. In fact, I hadn’t been home in… a long time. I tried not to keep track.

I missed the time when I could disappear, and no one had a way to contact me. Now I had to wear this yerking talk box in my ear and get zapped every time I received a call. I swore mine was calibrated with a stronger shock than any of the other warriors.

“So, what’s the latest?” she asked.

“I’m working on it.”

“Can I have details?”

“No.”

“Bosa,” she whined.

“You asked. I said no.”

There was a pause. “She got away, didn’t she?”

“No,” I barked out just as I passed an Ickithin vendor offering me a vivid piece of fabric. The vendor, thinking I was speaking to her, shrieked at my tone, flapping her antennae which began to rapidly shift colors and pulse in distress. Her beak mouth clicked and clacked loudly as her whole body trembled.

I held up my hands as other vendors began to crane their necks at the commotion. Forcing my tone to something I hoped resembled gentle, I said, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you.” I tried for a smile, but that only seemed to distress her further as a high-pitched keen seemed to leak from all her pores.

“Oh, for yerk’s sake...” I muttered.

“What did you do?” Gurla hollered in my ear. “What is that sound?”

I shoved a handful of czens at the Ickithin vendor, way more than that yerking piece of fabric was worth. Her pulsing, flashing, and keening faded as she stared at the sack of clinking czens in her hand.

“Sorry,” I said, not bothering to do the failed smile this time. “Thanks for the, uh—” I held up the fabric in my hands. The colors were atrocious, and the pattern was foreign to me. “Uh…”

“Scarf,” the Ickithin whispered, her antennae fluttering. “For your mate.”

The human’s face flashed through my mind, and I slammed the heel of my palm into my temple. “Enough!”

Seeing my anger, the Ickithin went into another meltdown. As some of her fellow vendors rushed over to her, I gripped the ugly fabric in my fist and did my best to melt into the crowd. I didn’t really do melting, but soon the Ickithin’s shrieks faded, and everyone had moved on from the market commotion.

“Bosa?” Gurla spoke in my ear.

I jerked, forgetting she was there, and cleared my throat. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is … is everyone there, okay?”

“Mostly.”

“Is it possible for you to not make a scene?”

I huffed. “Look, my marks make choices. I am content to complete a job cleanly. It’s not my fault they drive me to make messes.”

“Okay, whatever. When will you be home?”

Just the word home made my throat close, and that familiar weight settle in my chest, nearly crushing my lungs. I missed home. My tree hut. The food. My fellow warriors. I worked off-planet because I was paid well, and every single czen I made went to supplies for our clan as we rebuilt. All that was the truth, and it was also an excuse. As much as I missed my home, I was also avoiding it. The tug in my heart for home warred with the guilt over standing by while our females had been oppressed for way too long. I was a coward for not facing them, but at least I could send czens home to help support our settlement. My time was up now though. Sherif, our new pardux, had called me home. This would be my last mission for a while.

The Kaluma were everything to me. I had to remember that and quit yerking around with this mission. It wasn’t my fault the human was here, and it wasn’t my fault she chose to do what she did in this galaxy. My job was simple, and I’d get it done. No more playing. I had to go home.

“Five cycles at most,” I answered Gurla.

“Sounds good. Be safe.”

A click echoed in my ear, signifying Gurla had disconnected the line. I glanced down at the fabric in my hand, then shoved it into my pocket. Time to visit the docks. I had some bribing to do to find out where the human went. And if bribing didn’t work? Pain was a convincing runner-up.