Alien Captain's Prisoner Read online

  Right now, shirtless and still wearing Scorp blood on his knuckles, Vinicus prepares to treat his wounds the old-fashioned way – stopping the bleeding and applying antibiotics; but keeping the battle marks rather than using our med-bay to regenerate his flesh and muscle. Vinicus wears the mark of every injury he’s ever received – each one a testament to every battle he’s survived.

  I consider his accusation – that I’m putting us all at risk.

  “Aye, I am.”

  Vinicus laughs bitterly in response to my dry answer – but he appreciates my honesty. You can’t fight against honesty.

  That’s why it’s the only way to debate with Vinicus. Whether the adversary is a Toad, human, or even another Aurelian, my battle-brother doesn’t care who you pit him against – as long as there’s a fight to be had. The only time he won’t accept your challenge is when you don’t offer him one.

  I stand there and watch him as he finishes tending to his wounds, and then crosses our chambers to take a scalding-hot shower; washing away the blood and dirt of those Scorp nests.

  Vinicus does all that in front of me, without shame or embarrassment from either of us. Naked, dripping wet, and with his cock swinging between his legs, my battle-brother busies himself freshening up after his long hours of combat.

  But even when he’s finally showered and cleaned his wounds, Vinicus is still not fully relaxed. That’s typical, though. The only time I ever see my battle-brother’s aura calm and steady is when he’s facing off against a ten-feet-tall Scorp warrior, or shoving his Orb-Blade down a pirate’s throat.

  I’m no stranger to that restlessness myself. I, too, ache for the blood of battle – but being Captain of The Instigator means I have to put the welfare of my crew in front of my own needs.

  Which makes me even more of a hypocrite as I break my code of honor for this… this woman.

  This frustrating, enticing woman – who’s left me questioning everything.

  Tasha – Captain Tasha – is not your typical human woman, and I don’t just mean in terms of her piloting skills, sharp mind, or her ability to lead rough, chauvinistic men like those thugs who make up her mining crew.

  Those men under her command don’t appreciate her leadership. I’m hoping tonight’s humiliating punishment will demonstrate to Tasha how worthless her crew is, and that she’ll cast them aside like the garbage they are. It will be a harsh lesson, but after having watched them snigger and smirk as she selflessly accepted the punishment they were due to receive, it’s a lesson I feel she needs to be taught.

  Tonight will open her eyes to the truth. I was surprised when she accepted the shameful spanking in lieu of harsh, brutal lashes for her crew – but now I’m looking forward to administering it.

  I turn to Vinicus. He’s still angry – but in admitting the risk I’m placing us under, he at least accepts that I’ve thought things through… to a point.

  “She’s a firebrand, Vinicus,” I tell my battle-brother. “She’s young to be a captain, by the standards of their species, but she’s already demonstrated that she’s tougher and more capable than most.”

  I lean toward my battle-brother.

  “If Tasha is our Fated Mate, then all this risk will have been worth it.”

  Our Fated Mate.

  Iunia, Vinicus and I all agreed it was possible. My triad saw Tasha for only a few short minutes – and I’d spent barely much more time with her myself – but that was all it took.

  One breath of her scent was all it took to let my triad know that she could possibly be the one and only woman in the universe who can complete us. Tasha just smelled right.

  That’s the reason we haven’t turned her entire crew over to the Aurelian Empire – and collected the impressive bounty being offered for returning those stolen Orbs. It’s the only reason we weren’t willing to let Tasha rot in an Aurelian jail cell for the rest of her natural life.

  But I’m basing all this on a possibility.

  An Aurelian can tell when a woman just smells right. We Aurelians have the keenest sense of smell in the universe – we can detect fear, guilt, arousal and even virginity by the scent of a woman.

  The more right a woman smells, the more likely it is that she’s genetically compatible with us – the one woman out of the billions who exist, stretched all across the universe, who can bear the natural-born sons of my battle-brothers and I.

  However, the more right a woman smells, the worse the disappointment when you claim her body and discover that she’s not the one. Only the act of penetration can confirm whether or not a woman is our Fated Mate – as we penetrate her, she can penetrate us; by joining our shared aura through the Bond.

  But when you enter a woman’s body, but not her mind, you instantly know she’s not the one we Aurelians spend our thousands of years of life searching for. When you make that bitter realization – that she’s just another woman – it hurts.

  She’s instantly transformed from the woman who could possibly have been your destiny…

  …into just another woman; and a sweaty distraction in the relentless search for our Fated Mate.

  Iunia paces my chambers. He’s got the same angsty eagerness as Vinicus. It stems from getting your blood up in battle and knowing you’re going to return to the fray the next day. His nerves are still attuned to the frequency of blood and battle. He’s still thinking he’s out there, in the caves, fighting for his life. Iunia craves to be back on the moon, clearing out another Scorp nest, because the pursuit of bloody victory is the closest any of us come to the satisfaction of finding and seeding our Fated Mate.

  I wish I could join them. Every time they leave The Instigator and descend into the darkness of those Scorp caverns, I feel their Auras in my mind – raging in the ecstasy of pure violence.

  The three of us form an unlikely combination. You don’t choose your triad, just like you don’t choose your Fated Mate. It’s a Bond formed by destiny, fate, mystery and experience.

  Iunia and Vinicus are close enough in resemblance to be mistaken for twins – if such a thing was possible given the way Aurelians typically reproduce. In contrast, however, their personalities could not be more opposite – and neither could mine.

  When we all started our first hundred years of service – the duty that all Aurelians owe to their Empire – we three had all hated each other.

  We’d graduated top of our class. We’d competed in everything at the Academy - sprints, fencing, sparring and even our conquest of women.

  I remember how good it felt to beat those two, but I also remember the bitter taste when one of them got the better of me. We were like oil, water, and fire – totally incompatible.

  Or, so we’d thought. Now, we work together.

  On our first day of real combat, we three had rushed the Scorp nest we’d been assigned to destroy – running into the darkness side by side like comrades, even though we were only doing so because each of us wanted to outdo the other in the number of Scorp we killed. We’d each been racing to be the one who killed the Scorp Queen and claim the honor of victory that day.

  We’d pushed deep into that underground hellhole together – too deep. We’d quickly found ourselves cut off from reinforcements.

  Gods – we were so green back then. Our arrogance and recklessness had left the three of us cut off, lost, and surrounded on all sides by the scuttling, snipping nightmare of the Scorp horde. By rights, we should have been dead – for our sins, we’d deserved to die…

  But that was when the three of us found something we had in common – a refusal to surrender.

  For two hours we fought. For two hours, with the three of us back-to-back-to-back, we’d sliced down wave after wave of Scorp warriors. We relied on each other, knowing that our survival depended on the survival of our comrades. Individually, or as a pair, we’d have been run down and killed by the endless waves or Scorp – but together, the three of us worked in unstoppable synchronicity; like the slashes and stabs of our Orb-Blades were music w
e were playing together.

  It was music the universe heard – and as our movements became as one, so did our minds. They merged until we became one. The Bond between warriors was forged – and the rivals I’d so bitterly competed against became my most trusted allies.

  Now, the auras of Vinicus and Iunia are in my mind forever. I’ll feel their thoughts and emotions until one of us dies – and only then will he wink out of existence in my mind.

  Every day, now, I have to face that risk. Each day, I must sit back and watch on my screens and readouts as Vinicus and Iunia endanger their lives in the same grim caverns that forged our eternal Bond.

  I’m left in the safety of The Instigator – commanding my battalion and ensuring the large-scale decisions are made while my triad works in unison together to massacre the waves of Scorp.

  I’d trade places with either of them in an instant – I often wish I could – but that is not my fate.

  Iunia stops his pacing, turning to me.

  “Well, what if she is not our Fated Mate? What then, Aelon?”

  “I still won’t turn her in.”

  Iunias’ eyes narrow.

  “Then you’ll throw everything away, and for what? You’re our leader, Aelon, and…”

  “Aye,” I say, cutting Iunia off. “I am our leader – and while you two get to fight and kill, I have to sit back and lead.”

  Vinicus is a silent hulk, watching us argue. He’s eager – eager for a fight, but not against me.

  “Iunia,” my battle-brother eventually injects, “we follow where Aelon leads. It’s our fate. It’s our karma. If that means we go Rogue, we go Rogue.”

  Rogue.

  Once you go Rogue, there’s no turning back. We’ll be lumped in with the rapists and killers who dishonor our Empire – who’ve been exiled, or have exiled themselves to pursue slavery and other atrocities forbidden by the laws of our species.

  Each year now, more and more Aurelians go Rogue. More of our kind rankle under the leadership of the human Queen Jasmine. She’s been the reason human women and human-inhabited planets have gained more rights and independence; and not always for the best.

  Some Aurelians ache for the old ways – for the times during which Aurelians claimed human women, forcing them to obey and serve us.

  Gods – I’d be lying if I claimed some base part of me didn’t want that – to just take Tasha and find out for myself whether or not she is our Fated Mate. In fact, if we’d been alone in my chambers, uninterrupted for just a moment longer, I might have snapped and done exactly that.

  Tonight, it will take every ounce of my discipline not to succumb to my burning need as she’s bent over my lap, getting spanked like an unruly little wench.

  But such a decision comes at a serious cost. If the Empire discovers we’re harboring a criminal, and that we have no plans of turning her in, we’d instantly be branded as Rogue – all three of us. We wouldn’t be placed on the Kill List, but we’d become persona non-grata across the Empire, and on all Empire-affiliated worlds and systems. That means never being able to return to our home world of Colossus. It means being hunted down for the rest of our lives – and Aurelian Law Enforcement never stop hunting.

  It would mean never settling down – and I’d always thought I’d settle down eventually; even if I wasn’t lucky enough to find my Fated Mate.

  I’d always hoped to one day find a nice, warm planet with cool breezes and clear oceans. There, I’d build my harem. I’d always imagined that would calm the anger that’s always boiling up inside of me. I’d keep adding women to my harem, one after the other, always hoping against hope that one of them would be her.

  And, if not? I’d still have a home base – somewhere stable, to put down roots.

  But, if we’re branded as Rogue, we’d never be able to settle down. We’ll never again have a moment to relax. The Aurelian Law Enforcement would never stop pursuing us…

  But perhaps that’s fate’s sick way of ensuring I don’t achieve my goal. After all, what would ‘settling down’ look like? My own nature rebels at the thought of being like those degenerate Aurelians back on Colossus – who wear their togas and discuss philosophy and politics, while drinking wine and lying by their pools.

  Such a fate sounds like death to me. In fact, give me death – the dead of space. It’s only in the dead of neutral space that you can kill Toads.

  Toads.

  Just the thought of them makes my huge hands ball into fists.

  The only good Toad is a dead Toad – and I make it my mission to put as many of those slimy, warty bastards as I can into a cold, empty grave. I hope those fuckers from earlier – Captain Hoplan and his cowardly crew – are as stupid as I’d pegged them for, and decide to come back for the Orbs and prisoners I refused to hand over to them.

  Through our Bond, I suddenly feel Iunia find his calm.

  Maybe he feels the rage building in me through my aura and feels he must calm his own to compensate. Whatever the explanation, his own aura becomes certain again, and even the hint of a smile forms on his normally serious face.

  “Then, let us win the very prize that could destroy us.” He takes a deep breath. “Battle tomorrow will help me focus. I need to forget this business for a moment, and the thought of crushing more Scorp helps with that.”

  I raise my hand.

  “That’s another thing. You and Vinicus won’t be going back to the moon’s surface tomorrow. I have other plans for you…”

  My two battle-brothers look up at me uncertainly.

  “I’ll explain later,” I promise. “For now, we must decide who gets the privilege of turning that beautiful little minx’s bottom red tonight. Now, I’m our leader – but that doesn’t mean I’m selfish…”

  6

  Tasha

  I hear the dreaded knock at the door.

  I’ve been expecting it all day – but it still makes me start. I sit up, and if the room hadn’t been made to the scale of the huge, hulking Aurelians, my movements would have been so sharp I’d have knocked my head on the ceiling.

  The seconds had been ticking by towards this moment with both excruciating slowness and inexorable momentum. With no way of knowing when the Aurelians were coming for me, I had no frame of reference to judge the passing of time; and each moment grew more torturous than the last.

  But now the waiting is over.

  Sawoot jumps from the bottom bunk. She looks up at me, her gaze firm.

  “Tasha, remember – you’re doing this for your crew. If Chris and those lugs don’t respect you for it afterward? Screw them. They’ve got no idea what being a true captain is all about – and you should stop worrying about their sorry asses. Next time those jackasses earn themselves twenty lashes, let the bastards take them.”

  I smile at her spunk, but I know that was never an option. For Chris, Felix and the rest of them, perhaps I could have done that – but not Theme. Poor Theme wasn’t part of the ill-considered assault on that Aurelian guard, and he’d never have survived twenty lashes.

  “Listen, Tasha,” Sawoot reaches and touches my arm, “a captain is someone who can put the crew before themselves – and that makes you a fine captain.”

  I smile at her and then take a deep breath. Jumping down to the floor, I land like a cat and hold my head up high as I straighten up and turn toward the door. Whatever happens, I’m determined to face my fate resolutely. I’ve had hours to prepare for this. I won’t shame myself with cowardice now.

  I open the door, which had been unlocked from the outside. Iunia greets me on the other side. Aelon’s towering battle-brother has a fresh, new scar carved deep across his shoulder – red and angry. He doesn’t obscure his cuts using Aurelian technology. I imagine, like all the others, that the new scar will soon fade until it blends into the patchwork of all those older wounds that already cover the rest of his otherwise perfect skin.

  I stand there and study the looming warrior. Aelon might be the most handsome of the three, with his chisel
ed body and striking face, but Iunia and Vinicus each have broad, strong features that make them feel more… trustworthy.

  Not that I’ve had any reason to trust any Aurelians so far.

  I put my hands on my hips and growl: “So. It’s you who’ll punish me.”

  Iunia responds coolly: “It’s not I who have earned that pleasure.”

  Pleasure. They aren’t even hiding it. This punishment is going to be enjoyable for them - just as much as it will be humiliating and painful for me.

  My eyes dart down to Iunia’s huge hands. I can only imagine how much it will hurt to have them cracking down on my ass – again and again.

  I turn my nose up. “So, you admit it. It’s not a punishment, it’s a pleasure.”

  “It’s both,” Iunia retorts. “Now, come with me.”

  He steps back, knowing I’ll have no choice but to follow him. I force myself to walk out of the cell and fall in step beside him. Each stride is painful and takes great effort, because I know with each step I’m carrying myself closer and closer toward my humiliating fate.

  As we head down the corridor, we approach the section of the brig reserved for male prisoners – including Chris, Theme and the rest of my crew.

  We pause there, and Iunia points toward the cell where my shipmates are imprisoned.

  “The Captain’s orders are that your crew watches.”

  Fuck!

  I should have expected this, of course. Captain Aelon wants every man and woman who follows my orders to bear witness to this degradation. Sawoot also follows – she’d left the cell the same time I had – but instead of feeling shame or embarrassment, I feel stronger in her presence.

  I turn to Iunia and snort.

  “The Captain only orders that because he wants to humiliate me.”

  Iunia’s eyes narrow.

  “You tried to do the same to him. Don’t pretend you’re innocent, Captain Tasha.” He says my title with disdain – as if he feels I hadn’t earned the right to call myself captain. “Aelon told us both about your little ploy. You put him to the test in front of his men – demanding to take the lashes for you men, and then choosing the airlock rather than the punishment that was due to you.”