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Alien Commander's Reluctant Bride: A SciFi Alien Romance




  ALIEN COMMANDER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE

  JUNO WELLS

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1. Feeling of Impending Doom

  2. Nesting Dolls

  3. Sister Queens

  4. Trouble with Insects

  5. Bugs Out

  6. Waiting It Out

  7. Lack of Trust

  8. A Ship of Our Own

  9. Lift Off

  10. Earth

  11. Knee Deep In Queens

  12. Getting Reacquainted

  13. The Bio Dome

  14. Settling In

  15. Kindness of Strangers

  16. Chicken Plucking

  17. Frenemies and Enemies

  18. Love and Kisses

  19. Finding A Way Through

  20. Acting Like An Alien

  21. Dealing in Deceit

  22. Caught in the Middle

  23. Victory

  24. Evil Scientist

  25. Home World

  Glossary

  PROLOGUE

  MANY THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO, deep in the Exion star system the first Draconian female entered the Cave of Ascension. She passed through the softly glowing waters, noticing tiny luminous blobs moving about in the water. Whether they were finless fish or worms was difficult to tell, for they had the characteristics of both, as well as thin filaments growing out of their frail bodies.

  Knowing the cave must be her divine destiny, the first queen forced herself to submit to the will of the gods. She walked slowly through the glowing waters, emerging a queen on the other side. Her people were equal parts awed and terrified when she disappeared beneath the eerie luminescent liquid, for none had dared to pass through the glowing waters before.

  When she took her rightful place as leader of her people, all was well for a brief time. Soon her sleep became restless. A suspicion crept forward from the back of her mind as she felt something strange growing in her body. It moved around and playfully tickled her insides. Since she had no fever, nor evidence of disease upon her skin, horns or wings, the healers assured her that all was well. Then the nightmares started, and she never knew a moment’s peace thereafter. Every day was a struggle to shut out the dark voice growing ever stronger in her mind. Once the symbiont took full control of her faculties, the young woman was forced to stand idly by while the creature wreaked havoc on her people.

  From that day to this, every Draconian female had been forced to walk through the Waters of Ascension, thus becoming a queen in her own right. The evil of the cave was disguised as a coming of age ceremony for young females and the Draconian were taught to love this sacred rite, thus perpetuating the age of the symbiont. The first symbiont was long-lived, and few knew it still wandered the verse looking for plunder and warriors. Most warriors prayed to never meet the elder queens, for they were much more vicious than younger queens. Their dedication to terrifying and torturing males was legendary.

  As the decades flew by, the queens grew discontented, fought amongst themselves and battled with each other over warriors. They seemed to grow stronger, crave chaos and feed off the misery of others. Little did the Draconians know, but the creatures were not a strange anomaly, born of their planet, but rather the spawn of a soul sucker that had been driven from a nearby world.

  Meanwhile on Earth, the environment was deteriorating, turning the oceans into putrid acidic cesspools, devoid of all life forms. The lives of many males were lost in an effort to clean up the contamination, and then the worst-case scenario came to pass. A new pathogen emerged and locked onto the male genome. It took time to develop an antigen, costing more lives still. By the time it was all said and done, the ratio of males to females was seriously unbalanced, there being four females to every male.

  Just when humans were losing hope, aliens made contact with the peoples of Earth. They kindly offered to help with the environmental disaster and provided much-needed medical supplies and foodstuffs. In return, the aliens requested the one thing Earth had a surplus of. Voluntary human brides were offered in exchange for the supplies. Many women were all too happy to relocate to a pristine new planet with an accommodating alien husband.

  During transport to one of these alien worlds, women encountered the Draconian. The ever-curious humans discovered the truth about the symbionts, leaving the Draconian warriors grief-stricken. The dragon warriors had suffered long under the rule of symbionts and jumped at the chance to have human brides. Some even escaped the Exion star system using wormhole technology.

  Only, the original ancient queen haunted their every step. Finding a new galaxy, she was intent upon exploiting it just as she had the last. Unfortunately for the ancient queen, she met her match in an equally brutal race of aliens called the Moltan. They promptly stripped her from her humanoid form and imprisoned her in a bubble of life-sustaining liquid. Without her humanoid shell, she was vulnerable enough to kill. Unfortunately, one can never be quite sure some of her genetic matter didn’t survive to infect others.

  Her once-captive Draconian males bump into remnants of their prehistoric queen when they least expect it. These are the stories of their struggle to survive and keep the symbionts from entering the new quadrant of space. Naxis was the name of their new quadrant and it offered a completely new way of life for the battle-hardened warriors.

  1 FEELING OF IMPENDING DOOM

  TABOR

  THE YOUNGSTER I’m accustomed to seeing joking around and asking a million questions has somehow been transformed into a warrior worthy of being taken seriously. Among the Dracon, older brothers take younger ones under their wings as they come of age. It is my honor to usher Phan into adulthood, for we are the only two brothers to survive the rule of Draconian queens.

  Seeing him standing in a full warrior’s uniform with his wings folded neatly behind him and his horns perked up makes me remember how much he coveted the dress of a warrior when he wore a junior warrior’s uniform. The black uniform with the green piping of a healer looks good on him with his green skin.

  We both look much like our sire, especially with our clade symbols inked down our right cheek, onto our shoulder, and right down to our finger tips. The clade of Salon is gifted with green scales, a huge wingspan, and the ability to sense our opponent’s next move in combat. Every Draconian line has a gift, and ours lends itself to making fine security officers.

  Standing at Phan’s side is his best friend, Timric. The youth’s long golden hair marks him out as a true breeder. It is fitting that they have chosen to become a fighting unit. It was the same with Timric’s father and me in our youth. We were inseparable until Meric was chosen by his queen. Now his son, my brother and I will enjoy action and adventure while he nests with his queen. If being left behind on our new home world bothers him, Meric does not show it. Though I will miss him, my time has come to lead, and I am intent on enjoying the privilege.

  We will leave for Denar Five shortly. This will be my first command mission and my brother’s first mission as a sanctioned warrior. We’re both keen on ensuring a successful operation. I’ve planned out our mission to the smallest detail. Since the sister queens will be under our protection, I’ve left nothing to chance.

  This is one of the last training sessions before we leave. I watch the two young warriors select their weapons from the walls of our spacious training room. They choose the traditional weapon of our forefathers and converge on the mat to face each other. Others crowd around, for there are few warriors in their age group or class on this world. At the sound of the first chime, they drop into a traditional fighting stance with their batlets held in the correct defensiv
e pose.

  Pride swells in my chest as the second chime sounds and they attack each other with a vengeance reserved for warriors who thirst for blood. Phan spreads his wings. It’s a risky move. On the one hand it makes him light on his feet and agile, but it also opens his wings to abuse from his opponent’s batlet.

  Timric wastes no time swiping at the tips of my brother’s wings. My own best friend has taught his son well, as I have Phan. They are equally matched and it’s truly fascinating to watch their strategy play out.

  I notice something right away. While Timric’s form is pure, my brother has integrated human fighting techniques into his tactics. He’s more aggressive than I remember him being as well. Though his fighting partner does not seem to notice, Phan has quantum leaped forward in fighting ability. My brother is clever, resourceful, and does not stand on ceremony. Excitement ripples around the room, as the other warriors press closer to get a better look.

  When Timric is on his back with my brother’s batlet at his throat, the room erupts in the thumping of warriors pounding on their chest plates in admiration. Phan steps back, and the warriors begin to speak. There is spirited conversation about integrating fighting moves from other species.

  Timric scrambles to his feet with a huge smile on his face. Within moments, Phan is walking him though one of his new moves. Because I’ve known Timric all his life, I trust him to have my brother’s back in battle.

  A voice sounds off from nearby. “Your brother is wise in his own way, Tabor. You must be proud of him.”

  Sparing my fellow warrior a side glance, my wings tighten slightly. “I have always been proud of Phan. He is the only warrior among us fully trained in healing. However, I’m not sure about these new moves. Though effective, changing our fighting style feels like diluting our heritage.”

  The elder warrior is one I have known for many solars and his response gives me something to think about. “The ‘verse is ever changing, commander. Those species unable to adapt get shoved to the dust bin of history. I have no wish to see that happen to our people. We have only very recently earned our freedom and the chance to have a mate of our own.”

  Turning to face Scarn, I respond respectfully. “Our lives are much different since entering the Naxis sector of space.”

  “Yet we have adapted to freedom and all that it entails. I feel for the first time that my life is truly worth living. We’ve gotten good at accepting change, and this sets us apart from many species. Where they are reluctant to embrace new ideas, we are quick to explore and modify our approach to fighting, mating, and politics.”

  I smother back a smile. “I believe this is why the Intergalactic Council of Planets accepted us so easily. Our ability to cooperate and follow the law marked us out as honorable males and worthy allies.”

  The older man leans onto the thick railing of the catwalk and gazes at the warriors sparring below. They are all now practicing Phan’s new moves. “We have found a paradise in this sector of space. There are no Draconian queens or symbionts to lord power over us, only sweet human queens who wear their emotions on their lovely faces for all to see.”

  “It is clear you have not met the sister queens. They are forever serious, and do not show their blunt little teeth to any warrior.” Showing of teeth is a mating gesture, one that human females engage in often. The sister queens are the only ones who never show their teeth to males.

  Scarn’s head swivels around to look at me, his expression pensive for a brief moment. “I have thought this over many times. I believe there are many ways for a human queen to initiate mating rituals with a preferred warrior. The baring of teeth is our way, not their way.”

  “You sound like you have some experience luring a queen, my friend. If this is the case, you should share your newfound knowledge.” The thought of this elder warrior with his own female gladdens my heart. He has suffered much at the hands of our former queens and deserves a tender touch in his old age. His quick response dashes any hope I had of him growing old with a mate of his own.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Tabor. No human queen would choose a battle-scarred elder warrior for a mate.” He goes back to watching the warriors spar. “Entares crafted their forms to be delicate and beautiful. By comparison I am monstrous. Therefore, I will leave the mating to younger males.” His side glance in my direction reminds me that I am thought to be attractive.

  “I am living proof that having a handsome face is no guarantee a queen will warm to a warrior. The goddess may have a crafted a pleasing exterior to house my soul, but that has earned me little notice by the human queens. It seems they require more than a pleasing countenance to look upon, Elder Scarn. They want males of worth. It makes me think you have as good a chance as any at luring a queen.”

  A grunt is all the response I get in return for what I intended to be positive encouragement. After a pause he murmurs, “Then look for signs of trust and admiration. Even the sister queens allow their emotions to show from time to time. Their expressions are simply less intense than other queens.”

  Deflated, I respond politely, “I will pay close attention to their responses. Thank you for your wise council this day, elder.”

  My compliment makes him smile slightly. The thin scars crisscrossing his face have been there for so long they seem to belong. I believe he would have been thought of as handsome in his day. His hand comes up to slap me jovially on the back. “Anytime you have need of my wisdom, you have only to call for me, commander.” He swaggers off, apparently contented to pass on his wisdom.

  Turning back to watch my warriors train, I look for weaknesses and areas for improvement. Elder Scarn is correct about adapting and integrating new ideas is one of our primary strengths in this new world.

  I pull out my handheld and begin scrolling through the lists of supplies I have ordered for my upcoming mission to Denar Five. The sister queens have been working night and day in the gemstone mines. Uncertain why I’ve taken an interest in these particular queens, I’ve been adding to their stock when they are not present. However, there is only so much I can add without them noticing. They have made it clear they wish to earn independently so no one can lay claim to their venture. As if I would do such a thing. Their persistence and the frantic pace with which they work lead me to believe they have a greater need. I also went behind their back and made a deal with the tradesman who bought their gemstone to pay them far in excess of its value. I made up the excess in precious minerals culled from our home world, all to speed them on their way.

  They care nothing about their own comfort. I see this clearly in their decision to wear plain uniforms and sleep under the stars. I hang around, stoke their fire, and add extra blankets over their small bodies to ward off the chill night air. When they began to gather crew, I was chosen to command their mission. I suspect it is because they have tolerated my hanging about, and in the process became comfortable with my presence. I in turn invited only the warriors I most trusted to speak to Queen Kearney about signing onto her crew. Most have been assisting me in digging for gemstone and minerals as well as gathering supplies. They are already vested in the success of the mission and wish for more action and adventure than our home world affords.

  Something about the sister queens leaves worry squirming in my gut. It may be my family gift at work hinting at some danger we cannot yet see. Normally, my gift comes into play only during a battle, so I may be wrong on that accord. No matter how many times I tell myself the queens are safe and all is right, the feeling of impending doom only grows larger.

  I click though our medical supplies, ensuring everything we could possibly need to treat a queen is stocked for this voyage. I have secured a sturdy tent to ensure their privacy and provide shelter from the elements. Stored away in my crates there is food, water, lighting, bedding, extra clothing, the aforementioned medical supplies and a wide assortment of tools to repair and maintain her ship. I have stocked my credit account with an astronomical sum. On the off chance that our mission goes
terribly wrong, I can feed us and get everyone home with credits to spare.

  I’ve covered all my bases, so why does the feeling of impending doom not ease? Movement across the catwalk catches my notice. When I glance up, my wings flutter in alarm. The two queens are standing on the other side of the room watching our warriors spar. Queen Kearney is wearing a flight suit covered in dust, alerting me that she has been in the gemstone mines again.

  The younger queen is on her knees staring at Phan and Timric. Her eyes are moving around, tracking their every move, and her facial expression is thoroughly intrigued. The way she looks at my young brother sends a chill down my spine. Surely she is too young to select a mate. For certain, my brother is too young to be chosen. I sneak a peek down below, and realize she must have her eye on Timric. He is a true breeder and naturally his golden skin and hair would draw the notice of a queen over my brother’s handsome face.

  When I lift my eyes, Queen Kearney is staring at me. Her expression is totally blank, but she reaches out to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Lowering my head, I take a step back. She doesn’t want me seeing where her younger sister’s eyes have strayed. It’s not my concern if they wish to fold Timric into their family. He is young but a fine choice nonetheless.

  2 NESTING DOLLS

  KEARNEY

  STARING DIRECTLY at the strange Draconian male who seems to have appointed himself our protector, I dare him to cast his eyes upon my sister that way again. Thankfully, he steps back. After darting a quick glance to the warriors down below, he melts back into the shadows. The last thing I see is the tattoo inked down the side of his face. It almost glows in the dark, giving off a sinister vibe.

  Tabor’s normally so matter-of-fact about taking care of us that I sometimes toy with the idea that he’s just following someone else’s orders to make sure we’re fed and sheltered. He rarely looks us in the eye or spares us much face-to-face attention. He just goes about his day, and in the process, checks in on us regularly.