Alien Mercenary’s Destiny by Mina Carter
6
She’d been about to kiss him. He was sure of it. But then he’d been cockblocked by the boss. How the fuck had T’Raal known he’d almost kissed Zad? Were there cameras in his lab or something?
Eric grunted as he slid onto the weight bench. He would be more suspicious of the big Latharian mercenary’s motivations… if he hadn’t so much as flicked a glance toward Zad when she’d slid past them in the corridor. He knew he wasn’t the best at reading people at times, but there had been zero interest there. Zip, nada, fuck all.
“Hey, big guy. You sure you wanna do this?” Sparky asked, loading plates onto the bar.
“Uh-huh. Yeah.” Eric nodded, taking a deep breath as he put his hands on the bar. “I have to.”
“Near death experiences’ll do that to a body,” Sparky said cheerfully, locking the plate into place and moving behind the bench. “And bulking up to make sure you can kick arse… that’s a plan with no drawbacks. Been there myself.”
Eric eyed the lean human mercenary in surprise. He was almost as tall as Eric but where he was… well, less than toned, Sparky was whipcord lean. Most of the time he looked skinny, but stripped to the waist to work out revealed the fact that there was not an ounce of spare fat on him. Probably all that running his mouth, given what the guy ate.
“You have?” He could have sworn Sparky had emerged from the womb ready to fight.
“Uh-huh. Dad was a bastard, especially to my mom.”
“Oh… so, what? You got big enough to protect her?” It was an admirable aim, and not an origin story he’d have expected for the frankly mentally unstable mercenary.
Sparky snorted in amusement. “Did I bollocks. Me ma doesn’t need any man to protect her. If anything, you lot need protecting from her.”
Eric barked a small laugh. “Not what I expected you to say. So what happened?”
“She took me outside and taught me to fight against someone bigger’n me.” Sparky winked. “Made sure I could thrash anyone I went up against.”
“Yeah?” He was interested despite himself, even as he made a mental vow to never meet Sparky’s mother. She sounded scarier than his own. Way scarier. His mother was really only a danger to other women in her social circle. If she thought they were a danger to her position as queen bee, the knives were out.
“Abso-bloody-lutely, and that’s what you’re gonna learn to do. You ready?”
“No, but let’s do it anyway. And thank you.” Eric nodded.
Of all the people on the Warborne crew, he’d never have expected the ex-con to be the one who understood.
“You’re welcome, squire. Let’s see some reps out of you.”
The next hour went from learning the ropes of heavy weightlifting to Eric being convinced that Sparky was, indeed, trying to kill him.
But even though his muscles screamed and even his bones cursed him as he tried, and mostly failed, to lift everything Sparky threw at him, he found his mind clear. Even as he swore at Sparky with sweat pouring down his body, he found his mind as clear as he’d always thought it would be during the meditation he never managed to focus on.
He ran over the almost kiss with Zad in his mind again and again and was almost convinced of two things.
The first was that she’d been about to kiss him… more than that… she’d been flirting with him. He was sure of it. He was a xeno-geneticist and epigeneticist—so he studied how different planetary environments altered humanity—not a xeno-biologist. But he’d done enough biology as an undergrad that he recognized courtship behaviors when he saw them. The coloration along her neck, the new submissive element to her movements… it all stacked up.
But why? He wasn’t the sort of guy stunningly gorgeous women like her went for.
With no data to crunch to answer that question, he moved onto the next puzzle. He’d asked Zad about her language while making notes. The thing was… he’d been writing in Krynassis at the time. There hadn’t been so much as a flicker of recognition in her eyes.
There could be multiple versions of the language, but that still didn’t hold up. There should be at least some similarities. And he was fairly sure he had it right, even without a teacher. There were recordings and examples of the language in the Latharian database, certainly enough for him to work out the cognates and develop a working understanding. It had been his light reading before bed since coming aboard the Sprite.
So why didn’t she recognize words in her own language? Suspicion rolled through him… unless she wasn’t even Krynassis but was just pretending to be. He’d have to check with the ship’s database, compiled by Zero, to see if any other species looked like Krynassis but weren’t. And, more importantly, if they were dangerous. She could be a space dragon or something, hiding in plain sight like Beauty.
“Another couple of reps, guv,” Sparky ordered, the lean guy more of a slave driver than Eric had expected. “And then you can hit the showers.”
He nodded, grunting as he pushed harder. The bar rattled on the hooks as he heaved it back into place.
“Well done, champ!” Sparky clapped him on the back. “Go get something to eat and hit the showers.”
Eric rubbed a towel over the back of his neck to mop the sweat from his skin and gave Sparky a thumbs up.
He would, and once he had, he’d hit the database again. Whatever Zad was, he would work it out.
Eric always slept like the dead, ending each day exhausted both physically and mentally even though he rarely did as much exercise as he had in the last few days. So it was no surprise that he woke late the next morning, the gentle sound of Red shouting at someone on the other side of his door bringing him out of an almost comatose state.
“Draanth’s sake, can neither of you leave shit alone? These systems are delicate. You don’t need to be fucking with them and then I have to fix them. Next time I’ll fucking fix you pair. Understand?”
He groaned and grabbed his pillow, stuffing his head under it. Red was always shouting at someone. Usually Fin or Sparky. He might not have been the most socially aware person on the ship, but even he could see that both men went out of their way to irritate the Amazon-like female mercenary. With Sparky it could be put down to sheer insanity. He only knew part of the guy’s story, but what he did know… Sparky was a few sandwiches short of a picnic for sure. But Fin? Yeah, he had no idea what that guy’s deal was, or why he kept needling Red. Whatever the reason, he wished they would get it out of their systems and stop with the damn yelling matches early in the morning.
“Computer,” he said groggily. Damn, his voice sounded rough. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Computer. What time is it?”
His voice sounded no better that time. He must be coming down with a cold. Great. Just what he needed on top of recovering from almost having his guts ripped out.
“The time is eight forty-five,” the computer replied smoothly, giving him the time according to the human clock rather than whatever the blazes the Latharian used. With a twenty-six-hour day as standard, he’d had to make a few adjustments, so it got a little hinky twice a day. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to thirteen o’clock or twenty-four hundred.
“Ugggh…” He groaned, turning onto his side. His shoulder hit the wall so he shifted forward to avoid it, only to fall out of the bunk. He hissed as he hit the hard deck plating in a tangle of sheets. “What the fuck?”
He could swear he hadn’t been that close to the edge of the bed… Looking up, the bunk looked just the same as it had before. He’d half expected it to have dropped or broken from its brackets or something. Not due to him. These things were built to take behemoths like Skinny and Zero, both built like tanks, so his slighter frame wouldn’t break one.
The floor seemed to have gotten higher, though. The bed was definitely lower than it had been. He’d been doing sit-ups since he’d arrived, trying to bully his somewhat soft midriff into revealing anything that could be considered a sixpack, so lying down, he knew the bed was higher than this. It was just a centimeter or so and most people wouldn’t have realized it, but he was… well, funny about things like that. Eris said he was anally retentive when it came to things being in order but he preferred to describe himself as a perfectionist. Whatever, the bed was definitely lower.
Looking around quickly, he tried to spot anything else out of the ordinary. Even something minuscule. He wouldn’t put it past Sparky to have drugged him and changed out everything in his room as a prank. Although, there was nowhere in these rooms for even the lanky human to hide. Perhaps they’d recreated his room in the cargo bay and the walls would drop away—
His gaze collided with that of the biggest Latharian warrior he’d ever seen, lying on the floor next to him. With a shriek, he hurled himself backward, scrabbling up onto the bed. Only to slam his head against the upper bunk and almost knock himself out.
“What the fuck?” He touched the back of his head in confusion. He wasn’t tall enough to hit his head on the upper bunk. His hand came away covered in blood.
Movement caught his eye. The alien opposite looked just as confused as he was, holding out a huge hand… also covered in blood. That was when it clicked. The Latharian was sitting on a bunk opposite, yet there was only one set of bunks in his room.
He was looking at himself in the mirror.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed, his eyes about bugging out of his head. For a moment he just sat there, staring. His reflection was huge and everything he’d never thought he could be—broad-shouldered and absolutely ripped with muscle. Leaning forward, he watched the way his stomach tensed, the cobblestone abs flaring into life.
“Fuuuuuck,” he breathed, rubbing a hand over them. That slammed it home. His reflection was him. He was fucking huge and ripped and…
“Shit!”
He shot to his feet and stumbled a little. His body moved differently. All kinds of differently. Twisting and turning, he tried to look at all of himself in the mirror at once. But yeah… he looked like he’d discovered weights and adopted them as a new religion. Either that or fucking eaten them or something.
“Holy fuck!”
He had to bend down now to look in the mirror, studying his face. That had changed as well, the slight softness gone and his features harder and more prominent. Carved.
He grinned, the dangerous expression on his new face shocking even him. He looked like he belonged with the Warborne now. Hell, he looked like he should be leading them, not stuck away in some lab somewhere studying genetic aberrations.
His gaze dropped and he pulled out the waistband of his boxers to look inside.
“Hell-fucking-yeah!”
A broad grin spread over his face. When he’d gained muscle, he’d gained it all over. And then some.
He jumped as someone hammered on his door.
“Yo, Eric! You up? Eris is doin’ pancakes!” Zero called out from the corridor.
His stomach growled loudly, a savage ache clawing at his midsection.
“God, yeah, I’m starving! Be right out,” he called back, his voice deeper and more booming as he reached for his pants. Not expecting it, he slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide as he looked at himself in the mirror. Bigger chest, the scientist part of his brain informed him, more resonance.
“Eric?” Zero’s voice was careful, wary now. “You sure you’re okay?”
Shit, the cyborg must have picked up the same changes in his voice. Not surprising since the guy could analyze micro-expressions down to the nth degree while crunching the numbers for a decade’s worth of data analysis. Of course he’d noticed the changes.
Which wasn’t the only problem. He tried to shove a leg in his pants, and only got them just past his knee.
“Crap… err, yeah. Slight problem,” he called out.
“What do you mean, slight problem?” the cyborg replied. “What’s wrong with your voice? You gettin’ a cold or something?”
“I… no, not a cold.” He shoved the useless pants off his leg, getting them caught on calf muscles that seemed carved from steel. “Errr… I’m gonna need to borrow some clothes.”
Zero paused and then chuckled. “Sorry bud, most of my stuff… well, it’ll be a bit big for you.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I need to show you. Door’s unlocked. Come in.”
Eric backed up, away from the door. Just in case.
“Okay, but if a bucket of water or something is gonna land on me, I don’t give a fuck if you’re Eris’s brother. I’ma kicking your ass anyway.”
The door slid open and the big cyborg stepped through, twisting to look above the door in case anything dropped on him. When it didn’t, he turned.
His eyes widened, his huge frame frozen. Eric’s heart thundered in his eyes and he thought he’d be frozen in fear at the hard look that swept over Zero’s face as he registered him as a threat. He drew the heavy pulse pistol holstered on his thigh, a movement so fast Eric would never have registered it before, but now it seemed to be in slow motion. Slow enough that he knew he could cross the gap and disarm the cyborg before he could aim the weapon. He didn’t, though. He stayed where he was, hands up in surrender.
“Okay,” Zero snarled, his pistol pointed at Eric’s head. “Who the fuck are you and what did you do to… to…”
Bemusement and recognition swept over his brother-in-law’s face and he blinked.
“Eric?”
Eric lowered his hands slowly, just in case the cyborg’s reactions took over and he decided to shoot.
“Errr… yeah?”
Zero’s eyes widened as his gaze swept down Eric and back up. The look was thorough enough that he felt slightly odd, especially considering he only wore his underpants.
“What the fuck happened?”
Eric shrugged, rubbing at the back of his head. “Not a clue. I woke up and… this.” He gestured to himself.
Zero leaned back to call out down the corridor. “Eris! Can you grab a shirt and a pair of my joggers please?”
“Huh? Sure, whatcha need them for?” His sister’s voice reached him from her and Zero’s room further down the corridor and then he heard the sound of her footsteps getting nearer.
“Shit! Close the door. Don’t let her see me!” he hissed, grabbing for a towel to cover his nakedness.
Zero chuckled. “Why not? You’re her brother. Of all the guys on this ship you’re the only one I’m okay with her seeing semi-naked!”
“Exactly!” he hissed. “She’s my sister. I don’t want her looking at me.”
“Clothes, as requested,” Eris said, just out of eyeline in the corridor. “Why’d you want them? And why doesn’t Eric want me looking at him. If he’s naked in there, I don’t wanna look at him. He’s my brother. No way I want to see his junk.”
“He’s not naked,” Zero reassured her. “And believe me, you really want to see this.”
Reaching out, he pulled her into sight. She stumbled slightly, righting herself against his side, and then spotted Eric. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping.
“What the… ever lovin’ fuck?” she breathed, looking at him for so long his cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Yeah, yeah… don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked guy before and give me the damn clothes.”
“Eric… you’re… you… what the fuck?” Eyes still wide, she held out the bundle of clothes.
Snatching them off her, he pulled them on quickly to cover himself. “A question I have been asking since I woke up.”
She blinked, snapping herself out of whatever daze she’d been in. Then she grinned. “Oi… Red! You gotta see this!”
Eric closed his eyes. He should have known his sister would find some way to make this into a fucking circus—a fact that was borne out when the half Lathar mechanic appeared in the corridor, surprise on her face as she looked him over.
Great, just fucking great.
He’d gone from being the scientist to the specimen to be studied.
