Kede held Joyce close, unwilling to lose the feel of her skin on his. Her warmth sank into him, soothing his growing rage. He gripped her shoulder, fighting to keep his touch gentle while he squeezed his blade in his free hand. He would not be surprised to hear the metal bend and break beneath the strain.
All males surrounding his harae were in the same state, anger and rage pulsing through their bodies as the council released their “truths.”
Kede would tear their truths from their throats. Those were his truths.
His Joyce though… She did not, as she said “give a flying fuck” about their words.
“Petition denied.” Riskz slammed his hand on the surface before him, the collision of hand on metal echoing through the cargo hold.
Once Joyce was deemed the warriors’ High Warrior, the remainder of the council traveled to the Vehly for a conclave.
They demanded she come to them, pulling the Vehly from orbit and traveling to Dosha.
His harae denied their petition. She “had to wash her hair.”
He did not understand the term and it seemed to only amuse her, but the Comm Commander conveyed the message as dictated.
The council came to her or they did not. She had no fucks to give.
He reminded the Comm Commander it was not an invitation.
Now the ruling males from the fifteen great Houses formed a semi-circle before his harae. No warriors guarded the Houses. All warriors who voyaged with the council immediately pledged their support to Joyce.
The Vehly was overrun with warriors desperate to serve her and Kede would happily rip them to shreds.
Kede noted his harae’s slow smile, the one that caused even him to tremble.
She slowly, carefully placed her palms on the table before her and gradually rose to her feet. She was short compared to her warriors, but what she lacked in height, she made up with pure stubbornness. At least, that is what she often repeated.
“Petition. Denied. Those are your words?”
Riskz bared his teeth in a bastardized smile and every warrior tightened their grip on their weapons. None usually came armed to the conclave save those males assigned to protect their House.
These males protected their House. House Enner.
Kede never imagined being joined with a female who commanded millions. A female who often loved chocolate more than him.
He was not too ‘butthurt’—offended—about it.
Joyce was teaching him many Terran phrases.
“Yes,” Riskz snapped. “We will not have our ships—”
“Zip it!” She snapped her fingers and the male immediately froze. In that moment, when the councilman who wielded his power like a mighty warship ceased speaking, Kede knew they’d made the right choice.
She was a female like none Dosha had ever known. She exhibited the strengths of a warrior while understanding females. Her every word and deed was to further their cause. They would be treated as others, they would be seen as more than killing machines, and they would be able to join with a willing female.
They would be able to live.
Smiles would no longer be anomalies.
“To be clear.” Joyce’s tone told him she was prepared to launch herself across the table in order to beat the councilman. “To be perfectly clear and no confusion when Dosha is blown to bits—”
“Are you threatening—”
“Will somebody please shut Councilman Moar the fuck up, already? So help me, I will one hundred percent stab him with my pen.”
“You do not have a pen, High Warrior Tria-se. Should I procure one?” Moar probably believed he was assisting Joyce, he may in fact even applaud her for her actions, but his offer would only annoy his harae.
Kede knew from experience. Many, many experiences.
Rather than snarl at the male, she grinned. Somewhat. “Thank you, but no.”
She took a deep breath and released it slowly before returning her attention to the council. “I am here in good faith and with a singular purpose in mind. For my warriors—”
Councilman Ferea snorted.
His harae tilted her head side to side, cracking her neck and it was Kede’s turn to sigh. “My harae, I do not believe…”
“Oh, get to believing, baby.” The joy was unmistakable in her tone.
Damn the darkness. She’d assured him this was a last resort, but also promised a show of force would be necessary. No male, no matter his strength or age, wished to have his world disrupted by a female. She also assured him, it would not be a show of force so much as a show of intent and strength.
“Yare,” she waved to the male and Kede glared at Yare as he approached. The male merely grinned and presented his burden. “Thank you so much.”
Kede could imagine his harae’s smile.
Joyce flipped the box open and extracted its contents. A vell-vet tray displayed fifteen pens. Each device was engraved with the councilman’s crest and name in Doshan.
With care, she rounded her table and paced toward the councilmen. Warriors flanked her, offering protection as she neared the Doshan males. Each councilman stared at her with narrowed eyes. Some stares promised death while others speculation.
“I think perhaps we rushed things. On Terra, it is tradition that important meetings such as these begin with an exchange of… gifts. I realize this is not practiced on Dosha, but I felt this discussion warranted commemoration.” Her tone oozed with the fake sweetness he knew. Knew and hated when she turned it on him. It often came before one of her growls.
Within ten minutes of that sound came make up sex.
She promised not to offer any other males sex so he allowed her to use that tone today.
At each councilman, she carefully extracted her “gift” and handed it to them. She promised the device would not harm her, but he was still skeptical.
Once the last councilman held his pen, she returned to her table and rather than reclaim her seat, she hopped onto the smooth surface. Her feet dangled and swung. She clutched the edge of the platform and he wondered if she was concerned with falling. She was still with young even if no others knew she carried.
He slowly moved until he stood even with her and it was then he noted her smile. Her true smile.
Yes, knowing what was about to happen, her reaction further proved she was meant to be their High Warrior.
Each councilman stared at the devices with furrowed brows.
“Go ahead and click them. They’re pens. You push on the top and the writing device appears at the bottom.” She waved her hand. “It’s easy.”
The low snick of each pen being depressed was immediately followed by fifteen grunts. Not at the same time, but they came nonetheless.
Joyce’s smile grew. “Now, what just happened here is that I,” she pointed at herself. “Non-warrior that I am…”
The males surrounding her growled, but his harae ignored them. She was a brave, if reckless female.
“I just killed you all. Not with a blade, not in a Kerosa, not with my fists. I handed you the method of your own destruction. And because you’re a bunch of cocky bastards, you’re gonna sit there and die while we all watch.”
Shock coated each male’s face, the expression warring with their worry.
Councilman Tesk was the first to speak. “What have you done?”
“I, High Warrior Tria-se, proved I am a warrior. Maybe not what you’re used to, but I am. I am more than capable to lead these males and help give them a better life. And I will keep doing this until I get to a council that will actually listen instead of simply demanding things remain the same.”
“But what have you done?” Tesk’s voice was growing hoarse and worry inched forward. He knew his harae’s desires, but he hated taking life even if that was his purpose.
“We’ve proven that cilotha is deadly to non-Doshans, full Doshans. Another thing we’ve discovered is that lactose is just as deadly to Doshans while it is merely a delicious drink to Terrans.” She gestured at the now discarded pens. “When you depressed the top of the pen, a small needle punctured your thumb. That needle was coated in milk, lactose. It will eat at you slowly, carefully, until you turn into a pile of mush.”
“This is blackmail.”
Joyce shrugged. Even knowing her true intentions, his stomach clenched as the play unfolded. “And what you’ve done to these males for years is akin to abuse. I’m not feeling guilty about any of this. I don’t know why you’re trying to reason with me. I asked for very simple things. I am not changing laws, I am not demanding anything more than what the rest of your planet receives. I merely asked for cooperation. You were given a choice when faced with the Planetary Coalition. The Ailone stood before you, both in person and on vid, and told you exactly what would happen.
“My warriors don’t want to abandon Dosha even though you’re all assholes. So, the Doshan get three chances. This is number one. Once you all are done with dying, I can hope that rounds two and three listen a little better than y’all.”
Joyce glanced at him, closing a single eye in a wink. “Now, I’m hungry. Anyone else wanna grab a bite?”
“But-but-but…” Tesk held his hands out to her, his thumb now swollen and purple. “You cannot mean to…”
“Oh, I totally do.”
Riskz snarled at her, his finger now blackening. “This victory will be empty if this is how it is attained.”
His cold, heartless Joyce raised a single shoulder in a half shrug. “And yet it will be victory. It will be a victory that shows every single Doshan that I am the High Warrior. That I lead the males they depend on for their safety and it’s time their sacrifices are acknowledged. It’s time they have a reason to smile that doesn’t revolve around how much they can make their opponent bleed.”
Kede had privately told her that even if they had other reasons for happiness, they would still be joyful over injuring their challengers.
She rolled her eyes and stalked off grumbling about idjit males. He looked the word up and was not happy with the definition. He believed she used the wrong word and would tell her so when she was finished.
“I ask for three things gentlemen, open minds, open hearts, and open access to Terra through use of Doshan ships.” She crossed her arms over her ample chest, and he glared at each male who dared stare at her breasts. They had grown as had their young. Resane assured them all was well, yet her belly had grown and the child often tried to beat its way free of her body.
He did not believe his medico was correct and would tell him so. When Joyce was not near.
Six of the councilmen grinned at her, their hands undamaged. She’d spoken with those directly, carefully discovering their feelings during private meetings. She’d made the offer to all fifteen males.
The three in the most pain informed her they had no use for a Doshan abomination.
The remaining six sweated from the growing ache, but their fingers remained merely purple.
“It is time for another vote or fifteen funerals, your call gentlemen.” Joyce did not flinch or cower beneath the glares from the males and he battled his own instincts. Males were promising violence with their gazes and he was very willing to end the threat.
Councilman after councilman rose, some staggering to their feet, but they were vertical.
Only Riskz protested, his voice rising higher with each male that left his seat. “No, you cannot submit! You cannot do this! They will become unruly! They will be uncontrollable! They—”
“What do you think they are now, Riskz?” Haspava snarled back. “Do you think you can regain control of the warriors if you are dead?”
Alive or dead, there was no denying the warriors their demands, but Kede did not put voice to the words.
Riskz remained seated, glaring at his harae. Her grip on the table increased, betraying her worry, and he eased closer to provide her support.
It was almost over. Almost.
Riskz stubbornly remained seated, but fourteen stood now. Fourteen. They’d only needed eight, but more was better than fewer.
Joyce finally nodded at Resane and the medico in turn directed his staff to go to the suffering males.
All stayed away from Riskz.
“My harae?” he murmured.
“He’ll be out in a second,” she returned.
And then they waited. Riskz’s glare remained locked on her, his hate palpable, and hers remained on Riskz, her delight evident to all.
The moment councilman Riskz lost consciousness, Kede signaled to the Comm Commander and the feed was cut. The rest of Dosha no longer watched the proceedings.
“Resane, get this trash out of my cargo hold and to his room. Under guard. The council can decide if they would like to keep him or release him from duty.” His medico rushed to follow orders. He turned his head and found Councilman Moar staring at him. “Yes, Councilman?”
“You act as if he will live.”
“Oh, he will.” Joyce’s joy rang through the air. “He won’t be happy, but he will.”
Moar’s confusion was evident and he waited for his harae to reveal the full truth.
She eased toward Kede and he raised his arm, welcoming her into his embrace. He was never happier than when he held his harae.
“This was simply a demonstration, Councilman. Just because I can end your life doesn’t mean I will. Unless I’m pushed.” She gestured to the rest of her warriors. “Just because they can abandon you doesn’t mean they will. Unless they’re pushed.”
Councilman Moar’s gaze drifted over the room. “I believe I understand… High Warrior Tria-se.”
Kede released the breath he had not realized he held. This councilman was their first convert. Their first battle and their first success. They now had seven more.
Staring at his harae, the growing joy in her eyes, he knew she would not rest until the entire council supported her… and her warriors.
Did you enjoy Accidental Alien? Then I have no doubt you’ll enjoy RESCUED BY THE ALIEN PIRATE! To make sure you’ll lurve my hottie, golden, horned aliens and the human women that love them, here’s the first chapter.
Chapter One
Varia
The lights keep flickering on and off. I’m trying to hold it together and not let the darkness get to me, but I’ve never been comfortable in pitch black. Real darkness is like an abyss. If someone stares into it for too long, they’ll go crazy, and I need all my wits about me to figure a way out of this mess.
“We’ve been stuck in this hold for seven days now,” Lamira murmurs to me.
“If we even know what a day is,” I reply, unable to suppress the bitterness in my voice or the twist to my lips. “They took my comms and timekeeping devices before shoving me into cryosleep.”
Whoever “they” were, neither of us know.
For days now, I’ve been stuck in the hold of what appears to be a transport ship. I jerked awake to find myself in the dark, lying in an open cryopod. There’s barely any food or water and no one around to explain what the hell I’m doing here. I’m starving, dehydrated, and pissed because I hate not knowing the full details of a situation, especially one that involves me.
And now the fucking lights keep flickering in and out.
“At least we’re not alone,” I sigh.
“No.” Lamira grins. “We’re surrounded by one hundred and seven women, nearly half of which are still in cryosleep and haven’t woken yet. With very little food and water and one working toilet with no privacy.”
She’s right. We’re stuck here and no one has any clue why we’re here. Some woke after me, with questions I can’t answer. I don’t know whether to envy them or pity them because our situation is just that fucked up.
The last thing I remember before waking inside one of those pods is being arrested by Interstellar Human Confederation Security on planet Erebus while on my way to the store.
They didn’t read me my rights. They didn’t charge me with any crime.
I’m a human being, and a citizen of the Interstellar Human Confederation. I know no matter what I may have done I should have at least been told what crimes I was accused of.
They just grabbed me, threw me into a hovercar and hit me in the back of the head.
The next thing I remember is waking in a cryopod.
It took me a while to figure out my surroundings once I had the strength to get up. I’d stumbled around and found some food tucked in the corner, but it wasn’t until I called out that other women woke.
That was several days ago.
All we’ve had a chance to do is… nothing.
We can’t get out of this hold and that’s left a lot of time to think.
I’m definitely not what one would call innocent, having dabbled in a bit of black-market trading, but I’ve never done anything serious enough to warrant detention and shipment off-world. That kind of treatment is usually reserved for the real assholes—murderers, marauders, and madmen.
Last time I checked, I’m none of those things, so how in the hell I ended up here is a mystery.
I don’t even recall making it to interrogation. I was just being grabbed by some IHC Security goons and then nothing. Blackness. The abyss.
Remember what I said about real darkness?
I’m trying hard to hold it together for the others. My resolve is unravelling quicker as time passes, but I’ll be damned before I let anyone else know. As far as I can tell, those of us who are awake have been conscious for roughly seven days. But that’s just a guess. The room is windowless and there are no tech devices for us to call up any type of calendar or ship’s log. There’s barely even any sound, save for the buzzing of the damn lights, random conversations, and occasional whimpers emanating from some of the women.
It’s no surprise that they’re starting to fall apart. While I’d been the first to waken, others soon followed, and then utter pandemonium ensued. Some of the women sobbed, some yelled, and worse, some did nothing at all, almost catatonic with shock. Using my most authoritative, take-no-bullshit voice I was able to calm everyone down long enough to discover I’m the only one aboard with any sort of military training. Because of that, I’ve become the de facto leader of our ragtag group.
Not that I mind. I’m good at giving orders. Sometimes I’m not the best at taking them, but I left the military honorably, so I don’t feel too badly about that.
The good news is I’ve got a great team. Whoever locked us up in here clearly didn’t think through all the ways their plan could go sideways. My core group of girls each have a very specific skillset that will benefit us in the long run if we ever get out of here. I know I sure as shit wouldn’t have put a former military sergeant, a tech geek, a mechanic, and a biologist together on the same transport.
Honestly, they’re damn lucky this rig is locked up tighter than a space navy knot and we haven’t yet figured a way out because once we do, there’s no place in the galaxy they’ll be able to hide where we won’t find them. I’ll make damn sure of that.
Water was more difficult to locate, but thanks to a resident genius and tech wizard from Novaria who introduced herself as Fiona, we have a small supply. Somehow, she rigged the pipeline to the stasis pods, allowing it to divert a small amount of water suitable for drinking. I have no idea how she did it because my brain doesn’t work that way. It really doesn’t matter how she accomplished the miracle—just that she did. She’s proven herself to be a definite asset.
After we’d accumulated our stash of sustenance, I had Ilya, who’d informed me she was a professionally trained gearhead from Glimner, recon the entire hold. She’d spent hours crawling around on her hands and knees looking for a way out of this place. Despite all efforts, she’d come up short. Whoever put us here sure didn’t want us leaving anytime soon.
The rest of my squad is composed of Thrase, who’s lived on Mars and was a biologist. She’s been monitoring the vitals of each of us, awake or asleep. There’s Marion, a cook from Luvon who worked on Erebus before she too was taken and has shown she’s quite capable of slapping together a meal of things you’d never think of mixing from the pile of food I located when I first woke. Then there’s Lamira, originally from Titanus Vox, lately of Erabus with me and my best friend in the galaxy. She was with me when I’d been picked up and I’m afraid it’s my fault she’s here.
What I’m most confused about is how she ended up here with me. Even if I’d been arrested due to my transactions on the black market, Lamira is the cleanest whistle I know. There’s no reason at all for her to be here.
She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I’d been dealing. Keeping it a secret from her now will take some finesse. My primary concern is keeping her safe and getting her out of here alive because if she’s in this mess due to me, I’ll never forgive myself.
My breath stalls in my throat when the lights go out again. Silently, I count the seconds as they pass, dread filling my guts as they turn to minutes. We’re in the dark for a full ten before they return in a blinding flash, accompanied by a series of echoing gasps and sighs of relief.
“Varia, a word?” Ilya keeps her voice low, not speaking until our heartbeats have returned to normal.
I nod and follow her away from the main group. Her lips are set in a grim line.
“Now clearly I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s going on—” she starts, but I cut her off.
“Shoot straight, girl. If you know anything, you know we don’t have time for bullshit,” I tell her.
My voice is stiff but I’m smiling. In the days we’ve spent together my core group have quickly become close, knowing we’ve got to trust each other fully if we want to get out of here alive. I may be direct, but I genuinely care about these women and I think they know that.
Ilya returns my grin although hers is smaller and doesn’t reach her eyes. “The lights going out intermittently signifies the issue with the ship is electrical in nature. Once they’re out for good we’ll lose whatever life support we have quickly,” she gets the last out in a rush.
I stare into her baby blues, looking for fear but finding only rage.
“How long?” How long will we live once that happens?
“Group this size? Hours. A day at most.”
Fuck.
“Thanks, Ilya. Keep this between us,” I instruct, and she agrees with a nod. No sense in causing a massive panic.
I did not survive the firefight on Horus IV to go down like this. I will not die like a rabbit in a trap, snared because I didn’t keep up my guard. There’s got to be a way out of here. We just have to find it.
Returning to the group, I ask Fiona to revisit the locking panels on all of the doors to see if she can bring them back to life. Just as she rises to do so, the lights go out again.
The amount of time we spend in utter darkness is longer this time. The cries of the women are louder, echoing throughout the high-ceilinged room. I wrap my arms around my chest and will myself not to fall apart. I keep my eyes closed as if to trick my brain into believing I’m not trapped inside a hulking metal coffin, quickly on its way to becoming a mass grave.
Watching everyone else start to give up is affecting me more than I thought it would. It’s been days with no sign of anyone knowing we’re here. The cavalry isn’t coming. We’re all going to die here. Mother save us, ‘cause somebody has to.
When the lights come back on again this time, they’re accompanied by the sound of a distant but resounding crash that shakes the entire ship. I reach out for Lamira, grabbing her hand in mine and pulling her close. Once the dust settles the silence returns, but only for a few minutes. The next sound we hear is closer—a rumbling, screeching noise that sets my teeth on edge, coming from outside the main doors.
“Fiona, move!” My scream reaches her just in time.
She darts out of the way as the doors burst inward, letting in a rush of fresh air. An unfamiliar deep male voice cuts the silence of the room.
“What the fuck is this?”
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