Craving: A SciFi Alien Mail Order Bride Romance (TerraMates Book 8) (39 page)

"The boss assigned me to glider 3A," the smuggler told someone from his seat on the trolley. "I have five crates to load."

I heard fingers tapping against a tablet only inches from me. "Right," a soldier said. "You're on time. Report to the command desk first. We've randomly selected you for screening."

The smuggler was indignant. "What does that mean?" he snapped.

"It means our superiors are tired of soldiers poisoning their bodies with chocolate, herbs, and other human contraband," the soldier sniped back. "We're trained to keep our bodies healthy for war. And for our children."

"Fine," the smuggler grumbled, and the trolley backed up.

The little hope I had evaporated.

I thought the crate was going to be my escape, but it was a cage.

* * *

"
G
lider 3A
," the smuggler said at the command desk.

There was a squawk of a scanner, and I heard footsteps walking around the stack of crates.

I wasn't sure where I was in the scanning process or what cargo the smuggler carried in the containers that weren't bottles, but I knew my heat waves would be picked up on the scanner. The question wasn't if they would catch me. The question was, what was I going to do? Did I run, did I fight, or did I give in to the sentence the Depraved had given me?

The latter wasn't an option. I could not take being a slave any longer. I would rather die.

Captain Fore had said death was not an option for me because of my light bond, but I was sure that if I killed enough of his men, I would make it an option. I had never taken a life, but I was willing to, now more than ever.

"It looks like you're carrying extra cargo," the soldier who scanned the crates said.

"It's harmless," the smuggler replied confidently.

"How harmless?"

"A steak's worth?"

The man huffed. "Not for this. What you're carrying is big."

"How big?"

I expected him to give me away. Instead, the soldier replied, "All the whiskey I want. And a box of chocolates. Two boxes."

"I can't get chocolate. That's not my department."

"You better, because if you come back empty-handed, I'll tell Captain Fore what I saw here today."

"Fine," the smuggler mumbled. "I'll get what you need."

The soldier slapped something against the side of the crate. "It's about time someone took out the trash," he said. "Staring at it day after day is bad for morale."

"Whatever," the smuggler replied. "Can I go?"

"You can go," the soldier said. "But don't come back unless you have my whiskey and my chocolate." Soon after, I was on the glider – the smaller ships the Surtu used to transport goods.

We took off, heading to Earth and freedom.

* * *

T
he northern base
smelled as bad as the blankets in my crate. The Surtu appeared to maintain it as efficiently as the command center, but the men here sweated twice as much. They weren't loading cargo or preparing ammunition, which were relatively easy tasks in war.

They were out on the front lines with their blasters – invading, killing, claiming and conquering. The Surtu took the Fortuna peacefully, but not Earth.

Indentations from laser guns riddled their armor, mechanical suits that looked like armorers created them from heavy metal. I'm sure for every dent in their armor, they fired back a dozen more carefully placed shots. The Surtu tried not to kill women. We were the prize for which they had traveled across the stars. It was not an easy task, especially when half the soldiers who fired back on the Surtu were the femme fatales they wanted to claim.

After the glider had prepared to land on Earth, I snuck out of the crate and hid in a vent. I waited for the glider to be unloaded and abandoned with the other vessels before crawling out. Using the skills Bellona had taught me, I found cover in the shadows and made my way out onto the base, trying not to inhale too deeply.

The base was a network of colossal canvas structures. I didn't know where we were, but I could see skyscrapers towering nearby. The Surtu were trying to break a major city. The frontline would be near the city borders, so my best shot at freedom was to leave in the opposite direction. That's exactly where I started off, but a tent full of women stopped me.

The guards had chained together these women, some in earthly military uniforms, some in house clothes. All were of childbearing age. I recognized the desolation they carried in their hunched posture and sad eyes. I had experienced the same feelings when I was a slave.

I couldn't allow it.

The tent had no sides, leaving the women as exposed as cattle at an open market. Quietly, avoiding the guard at the front of the tent, I hid behind a stack of boxes on the far side. "I can set you free," I whispered to a brunette woman nearby. She wore a military uniform and looked lost in thought. I hoped she was the type who could lead.

She glanced over at me and immediately dropped her head down. "Mmmhmm," she hummed.

Good. She knew better than to draw attention to me.

"Are you all chained together?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Is the chain connected to a pole or any other anchor?"

She didn't answer. That was a no.

"Perfect," I said. "My name is Terra Lynch. I was Commander of the Fortuna before it fell. You can trust me. I'll be back soon. Be ready."

"Mmmhmm."

Retreating to my glider, knowing the smuggler was out gathering whiskey from the distillery, I gathered my thoughts. It wouldn't be enough to free the women if the Surtu would just capture them again. I had to get them to safety, but I didn't know where safety was. I also didn't know how. We were deep inside the base.

I leaned against the wall of the glider. The situation seemed hopeless. It would take a miracle to get the women out. I tapped my hand against the wall, thinking, and then I stopped.

Maybe not a miracle. Maybe just a glider.

I hurried to the dashboard of the glider, my mind racing. The ship was small, the size of four buses, maybe five, but it could accommodate the women in the tent. I was no pilot, but learning to fly had been part of my training for the Fortuna. The glider was Surtu designed, but the science of flying was the same everywhere in the universe. Physics didn't change from planet to planet. Bellona had flown Jidden's ship out of the Fortuna with ease. I had to try, and I had to do it now, during the day, while there was the distraction of the war.

Preparing myself, I took a moment to study the dashboard. The technology was very simple. It made sense. In war, pilots didn't need to be distracted with buttons. They needed to focus on their mission, be it hauling cargo or firing down on enemy lines.

"Nelti, help us," I said, realizing the irony of praying to a Surtu warrior goddess. I did not want to pray to the goddess Fortuna. I had failed her. She would not grant me her luck. But now that my light bond with Jidden made me of the Surtu, I hoped Nelti would listen, because all hell was about to break loose.

* * *

I
lifted
the glider off the ground and hovered above the rest of the ships inside the Surtu base. The glider swayed slightly, tilting the way Telki had when he was drunk. Below me, a soldier waved his hands frantically in the air and mouthed imbecile. He must not have been able to see who was piloting. Otherwise, he'd be doing a lot more than waving his hands. After some maneuvering, I stabilized the glider and circled above the base until I spotted the tent with the women below me.

I lowered the glider over the boxes next to the tent, assuming it was a warehouse, and I opened the loading door. The women were ready. They ran to me as quickly as their chains allowed. The soldier guarding the tent pointed his blaster at them and yelled for them to stop, but he didn't fire. I knew he wouldn't. Women weren't to be killed. I lifted away as soon as the last woman was on board; the loading door was still open.

Other soldiers came and fired on us. They tried to disable our ship, but I flew high and fast, further than their blasters could reach. From my vantage point, I saw a nature reserve in the far distance. I steered there with the aim of setting the glider down in the thick woods.

I heard a loud thud from the back, and the woman I had spoken to earlier joined me at the dashboard, swinging a piece of chain around her wrist. "Are you Terra Lynch?" she asked.

"I am," I answered.

"I thought you were dead."

I huffed. "Ghosts can't pilot gliders."

"No," she agreed, turning to the monitors. "They can't."

"Is anyone following us?" I asked, my focus on the nature reserve ahead.

"Strangely enough, no."

It didn't worry me. I considered it fortunate. "The pilots are probably too busy fighting on the front lines. A major city won't fall easily."

"No," the woman said with pride. "It won't."

"What happened to you?"

"There's a small town not far from where the Surtu base is. My unit was in the middle of evacuating the town when the Surtu invaded. The women here – we were claimed. The tent was like a purgatory while those who claimed us sought approval for their light bonding ceremonies."

"And the men?"

Her face turned to steel. "Gone."

"The children?"

"The soldiers sent them away, but I don't know where. I've heard a rumor that the Surtu have set up schoolhouses where they're indoctrinating children to the Surtu propaganda. The boys will grow up to become loyal slaves, and the girls will grow up to become brides."

"At least they're alive. It's better than the alternative." A thought came to me. "You said you thought I was dead. Do you know where the Fortuna women are?"

"No," the woman answered. "I know of you because there is a story going around." She hesitated.

"Go on," I urged.

"I've heard that the women of the Fortuna escaped with the help of a Surtu soldier who turned on his people. A soldier who was light bonded to the Commander."

"The story is true," I said, wondering how the word had spread so quickly. It gave me hope that my sisters had landed safely on Earth. Maybe they had spread the tale.

The woman was astounded. "So you are light bonded?"

"Yes."

"You are the only one."

It was my turn to be in shock. "But you said they claimed some women."

The woman continued to flip through the monitors, scanning for other ships that may be trailing us. "I said we were in purgatory. I don't think the Surtu thought Earth would resist as much as we have. They've realized that many of their men may die. They do not want women to be light bonded to a dead soldier, so they have postponed all light bonding ceremonies until after the war."

"Are we winning?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"No," the woman said solemnly. "We are resisting, but we are not winning. The Surtu have powers that we do not. They can heal themselves."

"And they can move things with their mind," I added.

"I didn't know that," she said, but she didn't sound surprised.

We arrived at the nature reserve. I dropped the glider down into a meadow and let the women off, a new plan forming in my mind. "I'm going to continue flying," I told them. "If they trace the glider, it will set them off-course. Find safety. You're in good hands."