Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
16
The Rheroti system was the smallest, most nondescript system Eric had ever seen. In fact, the only thing remarkable about it was the hulking, malevolent behemoth lurking in orbit of the largest planet.
“That’s a hive ship?” Eric braced his forearm against the back of the pilot’s chair and leaned down a little to look through the Sprite’s tiny front view screen. “It looks…”
“It looks like a concrete apartment block,” Nat commented from the jump seat by Beauty’s console. “It’s fugly as shit.”
Eric snorted as he looked at the ship. He had to admit, the ex-cage fighter was right. The ship was a blocky slab of red plating, engines and guns. It was like someone had ripped up a fortress by the foundations and thrown it into space.
“Krynassis engineering isn’t cutting edge,” Red said behind them, her voice quiet. It was the first time Eric had heard her talk about that side of her nature. But considering the circumstances of her conception and birth, he didn’t blame her. It couldn’t be easy to reconcile. “Their ships are generational—big and brutal. They’re not fast. Their main advantage is their sheer power.”
“And the little one?” Sparky asked, pointing at a small dot breaking away from the Krynassis ship. The shuttle bay it had emerged from closed its doors immediately after. “Some kind of flyer or something?”
“No, that’s not a Krynassis design,” Zero said, his big frame crammed into the pilot’s seat. “I don’t recognize it. There’s nothing on file for it at all. In any database.”
“Is that our guy?” he demanded, his fist clenched as he tracked the ship across space in front of them. If only his physical upgrade had come with laser vision or something, he could have taken out the fucker here and now.
“Probably,” Zero’s voice was clipped and with the absent note it often had when he was playing in cyberspace. “Hull configuration and engine harmonics noted. We can find him later. Right now we need to focus on the ship.”
“Agreed. Red, what can you tell us about them?”
Eric turned to look over his shoulder at the half-Krynassis mechanic. She shrugged, her arms folded over her chest.
“Not much more than is in the public databases. They’re generational hive ships. One female, the queen, to a ship. She has a harem, normally between ten and fifteen males. The rest aboard are her children.”
“What? All of them? Ship that size there’s gotta be thousands of them,” Sparky gave a low whistle. “That’s some going. Not sure even I’d have the energy for that amount of boom-chicka-wow-wow.”
“So, if you’d been like a full-blooded Krynassis, you’d have been a queen?” Nat asked as everyone ignored Sparky’s comment.
Red inclined her head. “A queen has many sons, but only one daughter who then succeeds her on her throne. Krynassis females are rare.”
Fin looked Red up and down, his warm gaze appreciative. “You would have made an amazing queen.”
Red snorted dismissively. “No, I would have been a goddess. Beautiful and terrible. Feared and adored in equal measure.”
Sparky shivered. “Oh, I do love me a dominant woman. How about you bring some of that over here, baby girl? You can dominate me any time you like.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re human. You’d never survive sex with a Krynassis female.”
“So… if I wasn’t human, you’d do me?” As usual Sparky only heard what he wanted to hear. “And Eric did. He was a fucking wuss before he got that fancy-dancy upgrade.”
He turned to Talent, leaning against the holo-table at the back of the bridge.
“No,” the healer said bluntly before Sparky could even get a word out. “Absolutely not. It could kill you.”
Sparky shrugged. “T’Raal’s been threatening to space me for weeks. You’d be doing him a favor.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” the Warborne leader rumbled in response. “I’m undecided between just shooting you or marrying your mom.”
Eric choked back a snort at the proto “your mom” joke, eyeing the big Lathar.
Sparky, though, wasn’t fazed. “Do I get to call you Dad?”
A look of panic washed over the mercenary’s face. “Not a fucking chance. Change of plan… I’ll just shoot you.”
“Best place to hit the ship is here.” Zero took control of the main viewscreen, overlaying a schematic over the ship in front of them. A red dot flashed on the ventral hull, under the bulk of one of the main engines.
“Looks to be minimal external defenses here, and no firing solution from the main cannons. Not that I think they’ll fire on their own hull, even the scale-heads aren’t that stupid. No offense,” he called over his shoulder to Red.
“None taken.” The mechanic leaned in and used Zero’s console to alter the display, zooming in on the image and altering the boarding point a couple of feet. “You had us coming in through two super-structure elements. It would have taken the cutters hours to get through that. This is the best spot if you want to be in there and kicking ass before we’re old and grey.”
“Talk to me, Zero. Where is she?”
Ten minutes later Eric kicked the loose hull plate in the middle of the cutting panel free and stepped through onto the Krynassis ship. He had the rest of the Warborne at his back and Zero on the bridge, coordinating their attack as the cyborg suppressed the hive ship’s internal defenses.
“I’m reading three female life signs three decks above you, toward the stern of the ship.”
Eric glanced down at the battle computer embedded in his wrist bracer. A schematic of the ship materialized with blue dots for the Warborne crew as they set off down the corridor ahead of them and three red dots clustered above. As he watched, two of the dots broke away from the third.
“Zero, can you work out which one is Zad?” Eric asked as he broke into a run, taking point.
“Not at the moment,” the cyborg replied. “These internal sensors are fucking prehistoric. You’re lucky I’m getting anything at all. I’m trying to raise Zad on her internal comms but nothing so far.”
“Keep trying,” Eric ordered, his attention refocusing as the team turned a corner and came face to face with a group of Krynassis males.
Low, malevolent hisses filled the small space, the scaled fighters fanning out as their black-eyed gazes washed over the Warborne.
Eric snarled back, flashing the fangs that had dropped down into his mouth at the first sign of danger. The sound rattled in the back of his throat, drowning out the hisses. Several blinked, confusion on their faces as they watched Eric.
He stepped forward, calling his armor up from under his skin. It was like a full body shiver and then his armor was fully in place, the dim lighting glinting off his scales.
The sight stopped the Krynassis dead in their tracks. Then, one by one, they bent their heads and backed away to line the corridors.
“Ambush?” Sparky murmured in an undertone, walking sideways and trying to keep an eye on the alien fighters on both sides at the same time. The rest of the Warborne followed him, just as suspiciously.
“Honor guard,” Eric replied, marching forward without looking left or right. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did.
“The queen? Where has she taken the female?” he demanded, an ominous rattle in his voice. “Someone start talking or I start killing.”
“Lord consssssort,” the nearest Krynassis bowed low. He was shorter than Eric, with a yellow patch of scales over his left eye. His scale armor wasn’t diamond like Eric’s but looked more biological in nature. “The queen took the female to her temple. Behind the throne room.”
Eric nodded. “Show me.”
The alien nodded, bowing and trying to walk ahead of Eric at the same time. “Yessss, my lord.”
“This is weird,” Fin grumbled from the back of the group. “When we board a ship, normally they fight us, not take us to their leader.”
“Walk and talk,” Eric ordered the fighter in front of him. “Why are you helping us?”
The Krynassis bowed his head. He was well-built, packed with muscle and covered in scars that said he wasn’t a coward by any stretch of the imagination.
“Our queen…” he started hesitantly and then swallowed. “Sssssshe is not a good queen. Not kind. Ssshe sssstarts wars with other hive queens. Many of us have died.” He straightened up and looked Eric in the eye. “Sssshe should no longer be queen. We know sssshe bore a daughter but killed her to keep her placesssss.”
“What do you mean? Killed her?” Eric’s heart stalled in his chest. “Zero, check the life signs of the three women. Now!”
“On it. Yeah, one of them is fading fast. Sending you her location now.”
If he’d lost Zad—if he was too late—he would fucking take this place and its queen apart with his bare hands.
“Princess Zadaenae is still alive?” Yellow-scale asked, hope flaring across his face. “Come with us. There is a quicker way to the temple.”
“Why would you help us?” Eric asked, looking at Yellow-scale. “And more to the point, why should I trust you?”
“We are the sons of Zadek,” he shrugged, as though that statement explained everything.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Eric asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Zadaenae was… Is,” Yellow-scale corrected quickly at Eric’s hard look. “Princess Zadaenae is Zadek’s daughter. When she ascended to the throne, we would have become her honor guard. Elevated above other bloodlines. We would have protected her with our lives.”
“You’re Zad’s brothers?” Eric blinked in surprise, looking around them. Now he looked, he could see the similarities. Something about the set of the jaw and the eyes.
Yellow-scale nodded. “We are. And ready to serve her consort. You are her consort. Aren’t you?” he asked suddenly, casting a look at Eric’s skin. “You are not Krynassis. The only way you would wear a consort’s armor is if—”
Eric cut him off with a sharp slice of his hand.
“Yes, I’m Zad’s consort. Her mate.” At least, he would be as soon as he got her out of here. He looked Yellow-scale dead in the eye. “The temple. Now.”
The Krynassis nodded and clicked in the back of his throat, signaling to a group all with a similar yellow patch of scales above their eyes. They formed up in front of the Warborne and set off at a run.
Eric ran with them, grim determination in every step. He reveled in the physical exertion, feeling his body move smoothly and powerfully, even as his mind focused on his goal.
Saving Zad.
They met groups of other Krynassis but Yellow-scale and his group cut them down ruthlessly. The rest backed off with awe in their eyes as soon as Eric flashed his scale armor. Rapid-fire clicks from the group in front had them falling in behind the Warborne.
They burst through a set of doors and Eric almost recoiled at the scent of blood. Thirteen bodies lay around the perimeter of the room, the foul stink emanating from them proof that they’d been disemboweled.
“Jeeze, what happened here?” Sparky covered his nose with his sleeve as he looked around.
Red, next to him, looked around the room, and her expression hardened. “She has a scale witch. Watch your backs.”
“Zad!” Eric spotted the crumpled form on the altar and ran. Halfway across the room details came to him. His breath caught. The torn red fabric over her stomach wasn’t material. It was… oh god, it was her skin.
“Tal!” he gasped, staggering the rest of the way and dropping his weapons to haul her into his arms. But he couldn’t, his hands pausing before he touched her. She’d been gutted like the rest, her abdomen opened up and her…
“Oh god, sweetheart, please,” he murmured, tears coursing down his cheeks as he gathered her up gently, trying to move her as little as possible. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry for what I said.”
He was barely aware of Tal by his side, the medic dumping his bag on the altar by Zad’s leg as he stroked her hair back from her face. She looked so peaceful, like an angel. An alien angel. His alien angel.
She was so still, not even a whisper of breath from her lips.
He’d lost her.
His heart broke, cleaved in two right there in the center of his chest. He threw back his head and howled with pain.
“Draanth, they really did a number on her,” Tal muttered. “Zad, sweetheart, hang in there. We’re gonna get you stabilized and back to the Sprite.”
“Wait?” Eric’s head whipped around. “She’s alive?”
He’d thought she was dead.
“Of course she’s alive.” Tal moved with purpose, covering Zad’s horrendous injuries with what looked like a sheet of blue gel. His expression was determined, even more so when he caught Eric looking.
“What? You think I’m going to lose one of my favorite crew members to a little abdominal injury?” He scoffed. “To steal a human phrase, fuck that. Now, if you want to help, go find the bitch who did this. I’m going to need a sample of the poison from her claws to create an antidote.”
Eric leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Zad’s forehead. Then he straightened up, death in his eyes.
Turning to Yellow-scale, he nodded.
“Take me to her.”
Zad’s brothers surrounded Eric as they surged across the temple and out into the corridor beyond. Fury filled him, burning through his veins and fueling his muscles as he focused on one thing and one thing only.
Zad’s mother. The bitch who had tried to kill his mate.
He threw back his head and howled again, but not in pain or grief. This was a howl of challenge. Of retribution.
A warning to the queen he was coming for her and he was bringing hell with him. Zad’s brothers took up the sound, and he realized what they were—a hunting pack. He pushed to the front, barely aware of the Krynassis and behind them, the Warborne.
This was not their fight.
It was his fight.
He had become vengeance, and retribution burned through him brighter than a supernova.
He hit the double doors of the throne room and burst through them, taking them off their hinges.
The throne room was immense, a long sweep of red scale-shaped tiles leading up to a blood-red throne. A tall woman with scarlet red hair sat upon it, her red gown made of shimmering scales. She would have been beautiful, if not for the hardness and arrogance written on her face.
“Sistilia,” Yellow-scale murmured at Eric’s side. “Our queen.” He spat on the floor.
“What is the meaning of this?”The Krynassis queen snarled, half rising off her throne.
Three groups of Krynassis warriors with red scales over their chests took position behind the queen. They were older, more scarred. Eric didn’t need a family tree to know these were Sistilia’s honor guard, her siblings. They had the same pinched features and mean look about them.
“Who are you? Guards! Get rid of this…” she sniffed the air. “This… creature. It stinks and I will not have it fouling up my throne room. Deal with those traitors as well.”
“Hiding behind your guards?” Eric scoffed as he stalked forward. “Just what I would expect of a coward who hides behind a witch. Don’t think I don’t see you there, you bitch…”
He lifted a hand to point at the shadows behind the throne, where the wizened old female lurked, a nonhuman talon extended in warning. “When I’m done with your mistress, I’m coming for you.”
“Really?” Sistilia threw back her head and laughed. It was a harsh sound, echoing back from the vaulted dome overhead. She made a show of wiping at the corners of her eyes in mirth with a clawed hand. Then she looked him up and down, her lip curling. “You, a pathetic soft-skinned mewling… nothingness, you think you can best me? What species are you? Some pathetic slave race?”
He lifted his chin. “I’m human.”
“Then human-ar, or whatever you call your planet, will die.”
She stalked down the steps of the dais of her throne toward him.
“When I am done with you, I will find your planet, and I will enslave it. Kill all your people.”
Eric chuckled. “Really. Yeah, somehow I doubt that.”
She sneered as she looked him up and down, starting to circle him when she reached him. “If you are the best warrior they have, my victory is assured.”
“Oh, that’s the thing,” he said mildly, keeping his fury in check as he turned to keep her in sight. “I’m not.”
“You’re not what?” She frowned, swiping at him with six-inch claws. He moved, time slowing to syrup to allow him to move easily and evade her.
“I’m not the best warrior of my people. Nowhere near the best.”
He smiled, swiping for her as she had for him. His claws flashed in and out of their sheaths, cutting her dress at the shoulder and parting her scales. Blood welled, perfuming the air. She gasped, jumping back, and then hissed at him in fury.
“What I am is one of the best scientific minds the human race has ever produced.”
“Ssssscientist?” She sounded confused.
“Yeah, you don’t have a word for that. Do you?” He circled again, feinting to the left and then slashing his claws through the air on the right.
“It means I’m a warrior of the mind. It means I’ve taken the secrets of your species, your genetic code, and added it to my own.”
“Stop blathering! I will end you!”
She roared and charged him.
Time slowed as an epiphany hit. He’d thought he needed to be bigger, a soldier, more masculine. But at the end of the day, to save Zad, he hadn’t needed all that. Instead, he’d needed the one thing he already had.
His mind.
He stood his ground, a small smile on his face. In the instant before she body slammed him, he lifted his armor. Her hand drove into his stomach and stopped against his iron-like skin. Sistilia staggered back, looking at her hand. Her talons were broken off at the base.
“Wh… what are you?” she hissed.
His lip quirked. “Your worst nightmare. I’m Zadaenae’s mate. Her consort. I am the consort of the true queen of this ship.”
“Nooooo!” she screamed and charged again.
Instinct took over. He roared and charged, meeting her head on. Her claws arched toward his heart, faster than he’d ever seen anyone move before. But he was faster, grabbing her wrist before she could reach him. Her eyes widened and she tried to yank her hand back.
He didn’t let her, heaving her forward. As she stumbled, he spun her around, pulling her against the solid width of his chest.
“I will vaarking kill you,” she hissed, fighting like a wildcat. “I will gut you like I did that pathetic daughter of mine. Leave you to bleed out like the vaarking worm you are!”
Eric’s growl was low and dangerous. This bitch had hurt the woman he loved. Had left her own child bleeding out alone on a slab of stone. Any compassion or feeling leached away, leaving him cold and emotionless.
“You’re no queen. You don’t deserve to be queen,” he snarled, and snapped her neck in one quick, clean movement.
Her guard howled, surging forward only to be warned off by the Warborne and Zad’s brothers surrounding them.
“Back in your fucking boxes,” Red hissed, her voice swelling with a dangerous rattle sound Eric had never heard her make before. The red-scaled fighters hissed at her but scuttled away like they were too scared to approach.
“A new female,” the whisper rolled through the yellow-scales and they looked at Red in something akin to reverence. “Another queen…”
“Eyes front!” Fin growled, stepping up to stand by Red, Sparky on her other side. Both men had huge machine guns, and matching “fuck-you” attitudes.
Eric dropped the queen, her body a dead weight against his leg as he stepped forward.
“Bring out the witch!” he ordered.
“Oh, I got her.”
Before anyone could move, Red plunged forward, scattering red-scales as she disappeared behind the throne. Savage hisses and squeals erupted and a few seconds later, the female mercenary emerged, dragging the witch by her ratty black hair. With a curse, she threw the scale witch down in front of Eric.
“No, please, don’t hurt me!” the pathetic creature pleaded, groveling and bowing at Eric’s feet.
His lip curled back from his teeth as he looked down at her. She was a wizened, twisted thing of a woman in tattered black robes, her claws permanently extended and as black as her rotten fangs.
His expression hardened as he focused on them. Leaning down to snap a hand out, he grabbed her wrist. A whine escaped her lips as he yanked her upright, taking a breath to roll over his tongue.
The scent of blood, Zad’s blood, filled his nostrils.
“You,” he hissed. “You hurt her!”
Her mother might have ordered it, but this woman had hurt his mate. With a howl, he stretched out her arm and sliced his hand downward. His claws flashed from their sheaths as he took what he needed.
Dropping the howling female to the floor, he turned to leave the throne room.
“It’s all yours,” he said to Yellow-scale as he passed. “Be your own man. Make your own future. Make it a better future than this.”
He walked out of the throne room, down the corridors, and through the hole in the hull they’d cut through to board until he was back on the Sprite. Even then he didn’t stop, not until he was in the medbay.
Throwing down the witch’s severed hand on a surgical trolley, he grunted at Tal, “There’s your sample. Now save her.”
Without another word, he turned to take a position next to Zad as she lay on the auto-bed. She’d stood watch for him, had never lost faith in him. He could do no less for her.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, Zad. I promise.”
