His Mate to Keep by Ivy Sparks

12

Xavier

I peeredover Merrit’s shoulder at the strange Bigviat navigational instruments. It was a good thing Merrit was familiar with Bigviat technology, because I sure as hell wasn’t. We had been adrift for hours now, with her doing most of the navigation. “Any idea where we are?” I hesitated to ask.

She ran a hand through her wild curls. “None at all. Do you recognize anything there?” She pointed to the chart laid out on the console.

It showed the stars, systems, and galaxies nearby. It even showed the names and designations of each astral body in Bigviat, but I still didn’t recognize them. As far as I could tell, we were in a completely unknown area of space.

“Where’s the lab facility on here?” I asked.

She traced a dotted line on the lay-out. “This is the course we followed from the facility. The lab should be right there, but it doesn’t show up on the Bigviat sensors. The experimenters must have some kind of masking technology to hide the facility. No wonder the Starglider didn’t see it coming.”

I glanced over at her and frowned. “Did they come out of nowhere? Did they appear without warning?”

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “You too?”

“I would give anything to know who they are.” I bent over the pilot’s console. “Let me take over for a while.”

She stepped back. “Thanks. I want to send out an SOS signal and see if we can find any friendly species in the area.”

I slid into the pilot’s station. After watching her for a bit, I had picked up how to work the system. “Are we far enough from the lab?”

“No one followed us, and the power fluctuated as we were blown through the force field. They’ll have their hands full for a while cleaning up that mess.”

She went to work at a different station. “This craft has a full fuel cell, but it won’t last forever. We need to find a way to resupply and hopefully acquire a different craft.”

I stole a peek at her on the side. She was thinking one step ahead of me. The pilot’s instruments showed her checking every system and powering up the communications array.

She pressed a button on her console and spoke into the display. “Mayday! Mayday! Runner in distress. We are low on essential fuel and require safe harbor to resupply and assess trajectory. Please respond.”

She let go of the button and leaned back. “I’ll put it on repeat. Maybe someone will pick it up.”

“Why don’t you include what species we are? If a human or Kavian picks up the signal, they might be more likely to respond if they know it comes from one of their own.”

“Great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” She fiddled with the array again and recorded a new message. “Mayday! Mayday! Runner in distress. We are one human and one Kavian. We are low on essential fuel. We require safe harbor to resupply and assess trajectory. Please respond.” She looked up. “How was that?”

I nodded. “Perfect.” Part of me knew there was no chance a Kavian could help us, but I knew humans were scattered all about the galaxy.

She sent out the signal and leaned back in her seat while she continued her assessment of the ship’s systems. “It’s weird. I’d never heard of Kavians before I met you.”

“Few people have. We weren’t space-faring—not yet. We traded off our own world, but we were just on the verge of developing our own space travel when the Ranxi attacked.”

“What did they do?” she asked. “How did they conquer a planet populated by such a powerful warrior species?”

She was gazing at me with big, shining eyes. She really wanted to know. She was curious about me—about us. “They used our allies. The Ranxi conquer one species after another. Then they modify each one for their own use. They infiltrated our allies, so we didn’t see them coming. They sent these compromised allies to Kavius, who then attacked us. By the time we figured out what was going on, it was too late.” I ground my teeth and smashed my fist into the console. “Everyone who survived the invasion swore vengeance on those bastards.”

“What happened after you left Kavius? Did many other Kavians survive?”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Some took refuge with other species. Others, like me… Well, I was on my own. I got separated from the rest of the survivors. I was lucky to fall in with the mercenaries or I would have been killed too. The mercenaries were good to me. I guess like how the pirates were good to you.”

Merrit smiled softly at that. “We’re both drifters now, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so.”

She smiled at me and concentrated on her instruments, but I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her. She smiled to herself while she worked. She looked happy for the first time since I met her.

I didn’t feel like I was drifting—not anymore. I was right where I belonged—with her. She was my mate, and I belonged anywhere that she was. Should I tell her that? We were alone. There would never be a more perfect time to make her understand we were bound together for life.

Just then, a high-pitched trill came from the communications array. A voice came through. It sounded like a female voice. “We hear you, runner. I’m a human too! I didn’t think there were any other humans in this sector. I’m relaying coordinates for safe harbor. We’ll do what we can to resupply you, but our fuel sources are limited. Feel free to land while you assess your trajectory. Contact me on this frequency when you get on the ground, and we’ll assist you from there.”

Merrit frowned at her console. “She’s transmitting coordinates now.” Merrit adjusted the runner’s trajectory, then calculated the time until arrival. “Five hours. That won’t leave us with much fuel or oxygen if things go sideways.”

“It’s the only shot we have. Where else can we go from here?”

She sighed and nodded. “That voice sounded friendly, whoever she was. Maybe too nice.”

“She said they don’t have fuel. If it were a trap, I think she would have told us only what we wanted to hear.”

“True. Just be ready.”

“I always am.”

With that, we waited.

* * *

In five hours’time, a planet came into view. Merrit stirred from her seat and swiped at the scanner screen, pulling up some stats. “Well, I’ll be damned. It has extensive floral and fauna life, and a balanced oxygen atmosphere, temperate-tropical environment…” She looked up and caught my eye. “It’s almost too good to be true. We should scout the source of the signal before…” A blast cut her off. It glanced off our tail, and the runner staggered to the side.

Merrit attacked her console as more shots peppered the hull. “Damn it! I should have known. It is a trap!”

I grabbed the helm. “Bring up any weapons this thing has. If we can’t outrun them, we’ll have to…”

“Weapons?” she yelled back. “You’re joking, right?”

I yanked the helm hard to the left in the vain hope I was flying away from wherever our enemies were attacking. I punched the throttle to move away from the planet, but I never got a chance before a devastating smash hit the runner’s aft end again.

The craft staggered forward and pitched nose over tail. “Where are they coming from?” I yelled.

“There’s no trace of them on the scans!” she called over more explosions. “I don’t think it’s coming from the air, but the planet itself!”

Another crushing smash hit the runner from the side, and a cruel ripping sound vibrated through the hull.

“They got the engines!” Merrit screeched. “We’re dead in the water!”

I worked the controls for all I was worth, but she was right. We had no control. One more hit…

It came all too soon, this time from the opposite side. It cracked off the runner’s tail. “We’re spiraling into the atmosphere!” Merrit called. “Bring up the inertia brake!”

“Where?” I scrambled over the instruments. Two more punishing strikes pounded the runner from behind and the planet’s gravity caught the little craft in an unbreakable grip. It tilted its nose into the swirling blue-green atmosphere and picked up speed.

“Divert all power to the inertia brakes!” Merrit ordered.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I fired back.

She shot me a strange look, but we were both too busy to argue now. The inertia brake kicked in, but just as it slowed us down, one last parting shot from our invisible attackers pounded the runner into a death spiral again.

The inertia brake almost failed, and the runner twirled out of control before it caught again. I strained my arms to the breaking point, wrestling the craft back onto some semblance of a course.

The ship rattled apart as it fought the atmosphere. The green jungle rushed toward the cockpit window and I yanked back the helm with all my weight. The runner peeled up and started plunging parallel to the canopy when something exploded behind me. A hurricane of wind ripped me away from the pilot’s station.

I caught a glimpse of the runner angling its nose downward, then the ship plummeted into the canopy.