Sold to the Alien Cartel: An Alien Menage Romance Read online

  Many of those rogue Aurelians adhere to the old ways – from when we were an empire of slave-owners and conquerors. They still view our species as superior to all others – and that it is their right to take whatever they want from all who are beneath them.

  There are countless dangers out there, and all I do is offer a little safety to the people forced to work beyond the rule of law.

  Of course, in return, I take a cut of any profits if they want to sell their wares on Titus.

  That’s only fair. That’s business.

  I nod at Dorothy.

  “Good. Set up a meeting.”

  Dorothy swallows.

  “That might be too… Forward. Apparently, Xeres has a hard time trusting an Aurelian who is unwilling to dabble in his business.”

  His ‘business.’ A business that was disgusting and distasteful to me.

  Slavery.

  Xeres had broken the most cardinal law of the Aurelian Empire by selling slaves. He was distrustful of all Aurelians, rogue or not, who wouldn’t commit the same atrocity.

  Dorothy had no such compunctions. It’s funny how accepting humans can be of such things – even when it threatens to turn them into commodities, to be sold and traded.

  “Why haven’t you taken slaves, Korgath? It would save us money in the long run – having some of our less technically minded day-to-day businesses manned by slaves instead of paid employees.”

  She averts her eyes to the floor, and coyly adds: “…and you could… Could work off your stress a different way.”

  I stop myself from snorting loudly. I can tell she’s imagining me working off my stress.

  Slavery is technically outlawed on Titus, as it is across the Aurelian empire – but that doesn’t stop the Toads, and rogue Aurelians like Xeres, and even the highest tiers of human society from continuing to practice it.

  In fact, slavery had a resurgence ten years ago, and I know why.

  It was Xeres - Mr. X. He helped rebuild a black market for slaves, and turned it into an illegal, immoral interstellar enterprise. Now he wishes to plant the tendrils of that network here on Titus.

  It’s a risky strategy. Xeres will risk drawing the ire of the entire Aurelian Empire if he supplies Titus with slaves – if he gets caught.

  But, on a lawless world like Titus, there’s no guarantee of that.

  Not that it matters. Dorothy might be accommodating to Xeres’ business in trafficking slaves, but the practice sickens me to my core.

  I could enforce the Aurelian laws, and make it too dangerous and unprofitable for Xeres to bring his trade here – but he’d retaliate if I did, and then Titus would be plunged into war.

  Not that I’m afraid of war. In fact, part of me still lusts for it. If Xeres ever wants to go to toe-to-toe on my turf, I’ll be eager to show him the folly of his actions.

  But so far, he’s made no such move – and there’s always more money to be made in peace than in war…

  …even if the price of peace is corrupting my soul still further.

  But I’ve come this far. What of my soul is there left to protect?

  So, I’ll let the slave trade continue. For now…

  If nothing else, it draws the tendrils of Xeres’ organization deeper into my planet; where he hopes to line his pockets selling human flesh to Toads and other humans. As distasteful as it sounds, humans are often the best customers for their kind – especially the human females.

  It’s ironic. No matter how rich a human is, they always find it much more difficult to get a woman on a leash than an Aurelian does. That’s why their willing to pay.

  In contrast, human females literally flock to Aurelians, eager to willingly join their harems. For that reason, I have no need for slavery. I could have any human female eating from my hand should I desire it. It would take only a week of spanking and training to have them utterly submissive, and perfectly tuned to my needs.

  Human females are instinctively submissive to Aurelians. There’s no challenge with them – no thrill of conquest, no competitiveness.

  And therefore, no appeal to me.

  Nothing has value, unless it’s fought for, and earned.

  But still, I will confess – I ache to one day, maybe, find a human female worthy of my attention.

  I wish there was a human woman proud enough, and independent enough, to be deserving of my affection. A woman that I could be proud to hear moan my name while I ravished her body, and her soul. One that would resist me at first, until she finally succumbed to her darkest need to be owned.

  But does such a human woman exist?

  Based on my experience with their submissive, eager kind – I doubt it.

  I spin around and face Dorothy.

  “I don’t need to take slaves.” My look is stern.

  She’s abashed, cheeks burning.

  “I… I didn’t mean to suggest… I mean… I know you could…” She shakes her head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

  Clearing her throat, Dorothy pretends like she’d never even mentioned it.

  “Well, there is a way to get closer to Xeres. He’s hosting a private soirée, which I believe is to test the domestic markets for slaves on Titus. An auction of prime human females. If you were to attend… Perhaps even buy one or two virgins… Well, he might trust you more.”

  When she says ‘virgins’, Dorothy’s mouth curls up and I see the jealousy on her face.

  She wishes I would claim her, and turn her into my submissive little slut. I know she wonders if her lack of innocence is the reason I don’t. She feels she gave away her own virginity too easily – and I won’t desire her because of it.

  But I won’t shame anybody for the decisions of their past.

  I stare at her. Dorothy’s nipples are hard through her shirt, and my body starts to react to the sight of her arousal…

  But I shake my head, and shut down my need.

  I must focus. No woman will break the iron-concentration I need before the most important business deal of my life.

  The truth is, I barely look at women anymore. I allow the occasional one into my bed to sate my needs, but they’re a blur of nameless faces. They mean as little to me as eating a steak to fill my belly.

  No. No women. There’s only one thing I’m focused on.

  Business.

  I need to become Xeres’ distributor. I clawed my way to the top of Titus through sheer will and brutal violence. Now it’s time to expand. To secure a business relationship with Xeres would bring enormous wealth, far beyond even the trillions I currently possess. It would extend far beyond the luxury buildings and hotels that are in my name here on Titus.

  I’d take my empire across the stars.

  And if the cost of doing business with Xeres requires proving to him that I’m corrupt enough to take slaves? Well, that’s a cost I’m willing to pay.

  What is one more drop of blood, in a bucket full of it?

  I nod at Dorothy.

  “Very well. I will accept the invitation.”

  I swallow hard, feeling the last, incorruptible part of me succumbing to the dark life I lead.

  But it’s the only way to get to the top.

  Xeres might have the throne of the criminal underworld, but his reign won’t last forever. I’ve worked two hundred years to get this close to him.

  The throne is his…

  …for now.

  But I won’t lose this chance.

  3

  Juliana

  The comms link flashes as the massive ship approaches. I pick up the signal, wondering what the hell they want.

  Only silence greets me at first – two torturous seconds during which I wonder if these strangers are merely using the comms link to distract me long enough for their weapons to lock on.

  I can’t take the silence anymore.

  “This is A268793. What can I do for you?”

  My tone a little more guarded than I would have liked – but if the occupants of this mi
ning hulk are up to no good, I’d rather they think I’m naïve at first – and show them how dangerous I can be once I’ve lulled them into a false sense of security.

  This vessel may be nothing to worry about, but even regulated mining ships have been known to turn pirate if they sense a quick buck. With my ship loaded with precious metals, and on the return to Titus, we’re the quickest buck for a million miles.

  Then, finally, the comms link crackles in response.

  “This is X4Z869. It looks like you guys took some damage in the asteroid fields. You’re leaking air.”

  The voice on the comms link sounds sure and in control. I feel the tension leave my shoulders. It sounds like it’s just another day mining in deep space – one vessel offering courtesy to another.

  The certainty in this stranger’s masculine voice reassures me. I imagine a pirate would have some adrenaline in their voice - causing it to waiver as they stand poised to attack.

  I turn in my seat and shout down the corridor:

  “Adam! What’s the look?”

  Adam’s head pops into view.

  “Fuck! It’s a bad breach. I sealed it off as best as I could, but the AI can’t fix it. Warning systems were hit as well – that’s why it wasn’t reading as low oxygen.”

  I bite my lip. “How’s our oxygen recycler?”

  The comms unit flashes again.

  “A268793, are you still there? You’ve got a bad breach, I repeat, you’ve got a bad breach.”

  I grit my teeth and reply.

  “I’m here, X4Z869. Crew is checking damage.”

  Muffled curses echo from the back of the ship.

  “The recycler is pumping at full capacity, but it’s close to overheating,” Adam reports. “We need to direct power from the engines to our life support.”

  Shit. The three-day journey back to Titus could take months if we have to run the engines at low power.

  The hulk of the huge mining ship approaches, dwarfing us. It’s easy to feel small in the vastness of space, and I get a chill as I see the huge mining beams attached to the behemoth. Each of those mining beams is made for blasting a part asteroids as big as a small planet. It could rip us apart with a single shot.

  “X4Z869, keep your distance,” I warn, throttling the engines and moving farther away. Mining beams might be deadly, but they have a short range before their energy dissipates. They’re nothing compared to the power of an Orb-Beam.

  “We mean no harm,” the voice crackles down the comms link. “We have advanced repair droids on board. It’ll cost you, but we can fix you up.”

  The voice is slick like oil. I clench my fists, worried about yet another cut into my profits. I’ve come to terms with having to pay-off Korgath with every shipment, but I’m not eager to lose more to these miners – my competitors.

  I bite my lip, considering his offer. “How much?”

  There’s a laugh over the comms link. “How much you got?”

  I shiver at his cold tone. We’re leaking air, and he’s using his position of power to screw us for every cent he can. The worst part of it? Every second his position grows stronger.

  “I don’t like your tone,” I bark back, “but if you give me a fair offer, I’ll consider it.”

  I pilot our vessel a little farther away again, and lick my suddenly-dry lips.

  I’m starting to think going low power and putting almost everything into the air recycler is the way to go. I’m getting a bad feeling about the captain of this mining hulk.

  “That depends on the extent of your damage, A268793,” comes the response. “Stay still, we’re analyzing.”

  His ship picks up speed towards us. A chill goes through me, as if I can feel the rays from his sensors analyzing my ship. Analyzing us.

  I can only hope he’s focused on the breach in my hull, and not the riches in my cargo hold.

  I lick my lips again, keeping my ship still while I run the mining hulk’s numbers through the database. I want to know everything about this vessel, and the man speaking to me over the comms.

  It turns out that X4Z869 is a mining ship in good standing, part of the Nauticus Mining Corporation. I worked a few runs back at the start of my career with Nauticus. Fair wages, corporate culture, just as much sexism, catcalling, and inappropriate advances as any other corp.

  But that’s reassuring. Everything seems routine. This hulk has been in deep space for nearly a year, mining and offloading to a space station that’s far beyond the reaches of my little ship.

  Then I catch something on the screen that makes my heart go cold.

  I pray it’s an error. A glitch. Anything, but my darkest suspicion.

  “X4Z869, could you broadcast your latest certifications?”

  I read through the info on the screen. The ship was flagged as having outdated certs by an AI sentinel a week ago. It’s probably nothing, but a gnawing uneasiness grows in my belly.

  “Sure, we’ll broadcast certs. Just a moment – we’ve almost finished the analysis. Looks like you’ve got some serious damage.”

  I shake my head, muttering under my breath. This doesn’t feel right.

  “Adam! Get the reserve oxygen masks.”

  “Why? The generator will be fine. Let’s pay these bastard whatever oversized prices they ask for and get back to Titus so we can spend what remains of our dough.”

  “Adam, get the fucking reserves!” I yell, and I hear him scuttling to obey my order.

  I try to control the panic in my voice, but my gut feeling is that everything is wrong – that the reason the certification isn’t updated is because the ship is no longer under the Nauticus Corporation’s control.

  I punch the engine. At the same moment, a teleporter beam shoots out from the massive mining vessel and barely misses my ship.

  “What the fuck! They’re trying to capture us!” Jenson yells.

  The comms link beeps.

  “A268793, surrender your vessel, and we won’t blast you to dust and loot your corpses.” All pretense of friendliness is suddenly gone from the captain of the mining hulk. “You won’t get far, you dumb bitch. You’re leaking oxygen like a punctured balloon.”

  Dammit! My suspicion was right. The Nauticus Mining Corporation lost their ship to space pirates – who are now eager for another easy score.

  “What did you do to the crew of X4Z869?” I demand, gunning the throttle and feeling the g force as we accelerate. The hulking ship follows effortlessly behind, its massive engines barely pulsing as it matches our speed.

  I asked the question, but I already know the answer. If the crew of the mining ship aren’t all dead, they’re probably locked up in chains – about to be sold to slavers on the black market.

  There’s a cold laugh on the other end of the comms link.

  “What do you think? Their fate was exactly what yours will be.” He pauses. “Are you pretty? I’ve never met a woman captain before. If you’re half as skilled in the bedroom as you are at piloting that thing, my men and I are in for a treat. Give up now, and the best I can promise is that we won’t be too rough with you.”

  Revulsion fills me. The thought of dozens of sweaty, disgusting slavers taking turns with me flashes through my mind before I stop myself.

  I punch the throttle, burning through our precious reserves of fossil fuel to accelerate away.

  Suddenly, laser shots arc past the cockpit - barely missing us.

  More blasts glance blows, skimming off our shields. Jenson and I work as one – I dart left and right to shake their shots, and Jenson alternates the shields to protect each exposed flank of our vessel.

  It’s not the lasers that worry me, though – it’s the sickening teleportation beam. It’s technology long since outlawed as a weapon of war – but what do pirates care about breaking such conventions?

  If that teleportation beam hits even a glancing blow on my vessel, half of our ship could be teleported directly into the bulk of the mining ship. I contemplate for one horrific second the idea o
f the top half of my body being caught by the beam, leaving the bottom half floating around in space when they activate the teleporter.

  Terror grips me, but I can’t let it take hold.

  I’ve cranked all power to our engines and shields. The oxygen thins. Adam rushes into the cockpit, a mask around his face. As I pilot, he places a second reserve mask over my head and I breathe in my first full breath of air in minutes. Instantly, I feel less light-headed – more certain at the controls.

  “These will only last us a few hours,” warns Adam, his eyes wide with terror.

  “Go give one to Jenson!”

  “On it!” Adam disappears, his feet clanking against the metal of the ship’s corridor as he runs down it.

  My knuckles are white as I grip the controls. Sweat drips from my brow. I hyperventilate, barely controlling my panic as a tracking missile suddenly shoots out from the pursuing ship.

  It arcs forward through space, careening with the propulsion of its searing rockets, burning towards us like a dagger.

  A missile like that will blast us to smithereens. All that will be left of my beloved bucket of bolts will be floating scrap and what precious metals the pirates don’t salvage as their own.

  The crew of the pursuing ship don’t care if we live or die. They’ve already got enough slaves from the original crew of that mining hulk. They’re more interested in our valuable cargo, which is worth just as much in pieces to be melted down as it is whole.

  The missile flies towards us, locking onto our trajectory. Shields will do nothing to stop the explosion if it gets close. I narrow my eyes, watching the small but deadly weapon streak towards us, ready to blow us to nothingness.

  Please, Gods – let my shot be true.

  I divert power from the engines and my ship slows. Suddenly, we’re a sitting duck. The tracking missile easily closes in on us.

  “What the hell are you doing!” Jenson’s terrified scream echoes down the corridor. “We need to dodge!”