Karun: A Sci-Fi Alien Dragon Romance (Aliens of Dragselis Book 2) Page 4

  “I'd like to help you, Prince Karun, but I also need my men out patrolling in case the Infernians try to attack any of our people.”

  “Master Sergeant, I'd like to request permission to act as a security liaison to Prince Karun and his brothers. I've already fought beside them. I'm a part of it now, and I'd like to see this through,” I added, avoiding Karun's eyes.

  “Permission granted. Thank you for volunteering, Andie. Not a lot of people would choose to face an Infernian twice.” After a moment of pensive silence, he turned back to Karun. “So here is what I can do . . .”

  In addition to the armaments, Johnson was sending Hardin back with us to meet with Zaruv and the others to work on formulating battle strategies for another attack.

  Hardin returned, and Johnson briefed him on the plan. Both Johnson and Karun seemed satisfied with these next steps. Leaving Johnson's office, Hardin escorted Karun to the armory where we picked up the pulsors and electron charges Johnson had promised.

  As we reached my fugecraft again and Hardin prepared to follow us on his hovercraft, Karun turned back to me, his expression serious.

  “I have not been myself of late, but please know that . . .” He paused, searching for the words. “I appreciate your assistance. You don't know me or my brothers, and yet you have put yourself on the line.”

  “It's what I do. I'm crazy, I guess,” I said, joking and moving to get back on the vehicle.

  He caught me by the arm and turned me back to face him, his grip bringing my senses to life. “Thank you.”

  For a moment, both of us were frozen by the electricity between us. His hand slid down my arm, slowly, so exquisitely slowly. My eyes dropped to the firm, inviting lines of his lips. Instinctively, I licked my own.

  “Hey, get it on later, you two!” Hardin joked as he flew past us in the direction of Jennifer's clinic.

  Flustered, we both shook off the moment.

  Trying to ease the awkwardness, I climbed back on the fugecraft and teased, “Come on, dragon-boy. This time, you get to drive. That is, if you know how.”

  Smiling slightly, he took the front position. “I have been told my skills are not insubstantial.”

  Heart racing, I held tight against his broad, muscular form as we sped away.

  Chapter 5

  Karun

  Walking into the clinic with Andie, I felt a lightening in myself. The ride from the Hub had been liberating. It was nothing like the majesty of taking to the open skies in dragon form, but for a moment, the darkness that had gripped me since our banishment eased.

  The path of my life had been settled for me a millennium ago by endless wars and infighting—blood spilled, families destroyed, all for power. I was lashed to the traditions of my people, sentenced to exile for simply existing because of a crime that was committed long before my existence was even a thought. To be cast off by everyone you have ever known, to be so easily discarded, had stung me to my very core.

  Still, for a moment, flying over the golden brown and orange terrain of Vaxivia's plains with the soft, supple curves of this woman pressed against me, I didn't feel so lost and without hope.

  “Hullo!” We were greeted by the pleasant, owlish face of young Mike, Jennifer's sometime helper.

  “Why, hey there, Mikey!” Andie beamed at him, ruffling his moppy brown hair.

  “Jennifer has muffins behind the counter,” he informed us as he headed out the front door.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Home. Jennifer's appointments all canceled, so she is closing for the day,” he said, a note of disappointment in his voice. He held up a metal box. “She let me take home a field kit, though, so I'm going to go practice some dressings.”

  “Nice! Well, hey, just uh . . . just stay inside today, okay?” Andie watched him worriedly.

  “Okay, sure,” he said, distractedly fiddling with the box as he walked away.

  “Kid'll be okay,” chimed Hardin. “He's in CHUs with a bunch of militia families.” Hardin was referencing the condensed housing units constructed to serve the most recent influx of residents to the Outpost.

  Andie hopped behind the small front desk and triumphantly lifted a plate of delicious looking small bread-like items.

  “Breakfast!” Andie said, licking her lips with glee. For a split second, I wasn't sure which looked better, the woman or the food.

  “Sweet! I'll take one of those, babe,” Hardin said excitedly. His informality with Andie was proving irritating and nearly robbed me of my appetite.

  “Hey, guys.” Jennifer bustled up front. “I didn't know you were back already, but great timing. I was about to EE you that we were headed back out to the compound.”

  Zaruv came up behind her. “Pavar is awake now, and we need to move someplace more secure.” He then looked at Hardin in his militia fatigues. “Greetings, I am Zaruv. I take it you are aware of our situation?”

  Hardin nodded, introduced himself, and agreed with Zaruv's motion to relocate.

  “I've got a hover vehicle out front than can carry you all there, but we should move quickly. It's carrying weapons from the armory. A show of solidarity from the militia.”

  Zaruv inclined his head. “Many thanks to the people of Vaxivia.”

  Back at the compound, we placed Pavar in a resting chamber where he quickly resumed a slightly feverish sleep.

  “He looks like hell,” Andie said bluntly, taking in his bandaged abdomen and sweaty, pale face.

  “He will heal, but it is not pleasant. Dragselian bodies can rebound from nearly any injury but decapitation,” I informed her.

  “That's handy.”

  “Yes. It is usually fast, but unfortunately, it is never painless.” My response was punctuated by a low moan from Pavar's dry lips.

  We returned to the dining chamber where, seated around the large steel table, everyone else had convened and begun discussing our situation.

  “I think the time has come for us to leave the Outpost,” Ragal said quietly.

  Jennifer's eyes widened, alarm and something else showing in them. “Where will you go? You don't have a ship and there are literal demons out there hunting you.”

  Zaruv looked pained. “Ragal is right. Every moment that we are here is a moment we endanger you all. Trouble has followed us here. It will follow us out.”

  Andie joined in now. “Jennifer has a point though. If you go out there half-cocked and they attack you and win, you think they'll just walk away? Forgive me if I am wrong. My familiarity with Infernians certainly doesn't match yours, but from what I've heard, those sons a'bitches like to make a hobby for leaving a mark wherever they go.”

  “Sorry, but what exactly are Infernians? Like, aside from bad guys,” Hardin asked as we all turned to him, a little surprised by the simplicity and candor of his question.

  Zaruv spoke up first. “They are Dragselians, but in the most bastardized way.” In a voice that dripped of disgust, he continued. “Thousands of years ago, Necak, a member of the royal family of Dragselia, incited a decades-long, grisly civil war. No house was left untouched by the death and destruction the Dragon wars wrought. As the younger son of a younger son, he sought to challenge the rules of succession, and in turn, he destabilized and nearly destroyed a kingdom.

  “Eventually, the descendants of Necak were defeated and fled to the previously uninhabitable Infernis. Forced to adapt to the extreme atmosphere, they attempted to intentionally evolve their DNA with biomanipulation technology, to devastating results. They are forever trapped between bipedal and dragon form, as hideous as they are nefarious.”

  Finishing, Zaruv downed one of the drinks Jennifer had set out for us all.

  Hardin still looked somewhat quizzical, so I added, “They can blend in with humans and Dragselians for short times by injecting themselves with a chemical compound distilled from our spinal fluid.”

  “Shit. That's harsh.” Hardin swallowed, looking fractionally more nervous.

  “Infernians are difficul
t to kill, as are we. Having descended from Dragselians, the only way to truly kill one is beheading. Andromeda is right. We must approach this more tactically,” I agreed.

  Zaruv looked frustrated. “No, batr, you were right before. We have endangered our friends long enough. We can't delay. Besides, we will not lose against them. We are four and they are three. We are dragons while they are freaks.”

  “Those freaks nearly killed Pavar,” Ragal said.

  I agreed. “Yes, we would do well not to underestimate our enemy. They clearly know with whom and where we are. What little security we have added to the compound is insufficient. If we could get a message to a nearby Dragselian colony, we could call for reinforcements.”

  Hardin spoke up again. “What about Steel City? It's at least ten times the size of the Outpost. It is easily the most populated part of Vaxivia and has a lot more tactical fortification. We get most of our munitions through them. Their mayor, Charles Janeway, has been a friend to the Militia.”

  “How far is it from here?” Zaruv inquired.

  “About ninety specs—so about two days’ travel time, depending on the conditions. Out on the crags and flats, dust storms can kick up without warning,” Andie put in as her slender fingers toyed with the mug before her.

  “That's a long time to be out in the open with two of us injured,” I contended.

  “Not if we fly,” Zaruv retorted.

  Jennifer looked shocked. “You can't be serious. Pavar is in no condition to fly anywhere. He is barely able to stand.”

  Zaruv looked at her balefully. “We have no choice. I will not put you in harm's way again. If the only way for you to be safe is for us to be gone, we must go.”

  Face reddening, Jennifer snapped back, “Excuse me, but I'm not going to let you go out and martyr yourself on my account. If you're going anywhere, you're taking me with you. Besides, Pavar is my patient, as are you, and if you think you're transporting my patients without me, you're as out of it as he is!”

  “Jennifer, you could be killed, or worse, taken captive and tortured. They know that we are . . . close. Do you think they won't act on that knowledge, given the chance?”

  “And do you think that I would let you go off to your death alone? Nope. Sorry, either you stay here or I go with you.”

  I hadn't seen Jennifer so determined, but it was good to see someone put Zaruv in his place. Concerned as he was, I could sense the relief in Zaruv knowing Jennifer would come with us.

  Ragal spoke up, “We cannot fly with Pavar like this, and you can barely shift.”

  “I can shift if I need to,” Zaruv puffed.

  Such bickering and posturing continued for some time until Andie, who had kept quiet for some time, finally cleared her throat.

  “I think I might have a solution. What if we borrow a couple of mecharovers from the Militia? We could go by land, using the vehicles as shelter, and it would allow us to carry more munitions than I'm guessing you could strap on to yourselves if you fly. Besides, it'll be smoother, I suspect, than riding a dragon—granted, I've never ridden one, but I can imagine it might get a little rough up there . . .” Andie started to stumble, realizing the suggestive double meaning of her words.

  A flush of pink warmed her smooth cheeks as she continued, “It'll also be easier for Hardin, Jennifer, and myself to accompany you, giving you reinforcements if the demons attack.”

  Her plan made sense and was practical and tactically sound. I was impressed. Everyone was silent for a beat while they mentally weighed the option.

  I spoke first. “It's a good plan, strategically—I like it.” Andie looked at me and smiled slightly before looking away. Ragal nodded in silent agreement.

  Zaruv said, “Yes, it has merit. What say you, Hardin?”

  “Makes sense to me, and I'm game to blow off some demon heads! I'll EE the Hub.” Hardin stepped away from the table and closed his eyes, concentrating.

  Jennifer stood. “I'll go check on Pavar and start packing medical supplies and food.”

  Hardin returned. “Johnson will give us two mecharovers—it's all we can spare—along with a few more supplies and long-range rifles. Kang will bring them over shortly.”

  Zaruv stood to follow Jennifer. “It is settled. Let's all make our preparations.”

  Two hours later, we loaded into the vehicles. Hardin climbed into the driver seat of the first and Andie, the second. Pavar walked himself to the back of the first rover. Ragal opened the doors for him and helped him climb in.

  Jennifer insisted on accompanying Pavar and Zaruv insisted on accompanying Jennifer.

  Ragal turned to me. “Zaruv thinks he is still in his fighting form, but we both know he is hurting. I will ride with them. You should go with Sergeant Andromeda. She should not be alone in the event of an attack.”

  I nodded and inwardly steeled myself against the thrum of my quickening heart rate as I walked to the second vehicle and climbed in beside Andie.

  “Ready to ride?” She inquired innocently, and it was all I could do to nod as I resisted a growing excitement.

  Chapter 6

  Andie

  Karun hopped onto the long front seat with me. I was feeling a little nervous and more than a little excited as we followed Hardin's mecharover out on the eastern road. As with most roadways, on Vaxivia, it was just a length of packed dirt with short steel post markers every few miles and bunches of succulent flowers punctuating the loneliness of the drylands.

  It was well past midday when we finally got beyond the outer boundaries of the Outpost. The sky overhead was brilliant in variegated shades of blue. The breeze in the biosphere, the engineered atmosphere, was warm, dry, and oddly sweet smelling. Nomadic birds passed above us at infrequent intervals, small reminders of Vaxivia's original design.

  Approximately 500 years before humans finally began teleportation to Vaxivia, Earth Federation's Colonization Taskforce had selected the planet for development and begun sending robotic developers to introduce conditions favorable for human life. Wildlife had been designed to replicate Earth species, both for farming and ecosystem development.

  Initially, the planet was intended to serve as a luxury desert oasis vacation destination for Earth Federation's wealthy elites. Political unrest and social restructuring had seen the Federation's class system thrown into disarray, and Vaxivia was abandoned, a half-completed project, until refugees began to work to create a haven for themselves in this forgotten wilderness.

  We had ridden in silence for some time, both of us taking in the tranquility of the flats dotted here and there with desert poppies and weathered trees, when I finally decided to disturb the lull.

  “So. Prince Karun,” I started.

  “Just Karun will suffice,” he interrupted. “I am a prince-in-exile, with no official role or inheritance. The honorific no longer feels fitting.”

  “Yeah, so why is that? I mean, why are you guys exiled? The 'Dragon Wars' Karuv was talking about?” I asked, curious about this planet of which I knew so little.

  “There is no brief answer to that.”

  “This isn't a brief ride. Educate me, dragon-boy,” I prodded. He side-eyed me but seemed amused. Maybe he was starting to relax.

  “Essentially, yes. When Necak and his ilk challenged the law of succession and war erupted, several of the noble houses saw an opportunity to reconfigure the Dragselian power structure in their favor. Individual factions warred against the crown and each other, all trying to lay claim through their royal lineage and connections. There was no way to win with so many competing forces and the wars just dragged on. It was devastating. Whole cities were razed, and many families within the royal line were completely eradicated.

  “Twenty-two years after the Dragon Wars started, an armistice was declared. The Treaty of Vahakun was ratified and the war was over. One faction, the kin of Necak, refused to comply with the bylaws and thus were driven out of the colonies. The rest you have heard.”

  “But . . . what does that have to
do with you?” I asked, still confused.

  He sighed, looking out the window. I wondered whether I had overstepped.

  “It has everything to do with us. Ever since the Treaty of Vahakun was ratified into law, it has been declared that upon the coronation of a new monarch, all younger brothers are to be exiled to whichever outlying colony the new monarch chooses. In this way, we avoid any challenges to succession and preserve peace.”

  That seemed extreme. “So your brother was okay with sending all of you millions of lightyears away from your home?”

  “Mulkaro, my eldest brother and the new king, is not like myself and my younger brothers. He has always viewed us with suspicion and intolerance. We have always been, in his eyes, a threat to his future, to his power. I believe he was relieved to send us away, to have, at last, a sense of security in his position.”

  “So can you ever go back? I mean, is there an . . . expiration date, I guess, for your exile?”

  “Mulkaro's death,” he replied bluntly. “It is the tradition and the law of my people that I, and my brothers with me, live out the remainder of our lives in obscurity.”

  “That's got to be hard. I can't imagine having to leave Vaxivia or my family,” I said, looking wistfully out across the flats of my home.

  “Are you of Vaxivia, then, or were you born elsewhere?” Karun asked

  “Born and bred! My family settled here four generations ago. We were some of the first residents, in fact. I grew up on a compound near the Hub, but before it was advanced to its current state. My whole family—dad, uncles, brother, ten relatives in total—are all militia men.”

  “Ah, so it is a family legacy then?” He smiled.

  “I guess you could say that. I never thought about doing anything else, and to be honest, if I had wanted to do anything else, I would have had to leave the Outpost, and that never sounded appealing.”