Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1)
Read Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1) Online
Authors: Bobbi Ross
Tags: #Alien, #Alpha, #SciFi, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Galactic Empire, #Action, #Adventure, #Pregnant Male, #Adult, #Erotic, #Paranormal, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Invasion, #Novokin, #Alliance, #Captain, #Warbird Razor, #Galaxy, #Enslaving, #Fugitive, #Outlaw, #Deep Proteus, #Space Station, #Barbarian Alien, #Protectorate, #Alien Commander, #Crew Lives, #Cliffhanger
Copyright
Defying the Alliance: Book One
No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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© Cover Art by Cora Graphics
© 2015 Bobbi Ross
All rights reserved.
First Digital Edition October 2015
All rights reserved.
Written by Bobbi Ross at
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Defying the Alliance Book One
One spitfire captain, one deliciously sexy alien warrior and one ship...
What captain in her right mind could resist saving the smoldering hot, ferocious alien dipped in delicious muscles and cooked to a golden sexy perfection?
Caspia Jones, the headstrong and sassy little captain of the Warbird Razor, was once a proud agent of law and order in her galaxy. That is until the Novokin Alliance invaded her world, enslaving her people and killing everyone dear to her. Most of her crew are dead. Her fleet disbanded. To save the last remaining crestfallen members of her ship from certain death, she had to run. Become a fugitive. An outlaw.
But Caspia couldn’t leave well enough alone.
She just had to go and free the slaves on the Deep Proteus space station, along with a hunky barbarian alien -who dares to challenge her authority, infuriates the prak out of her and yet tantalizes all of her body’s senses.
Now, her ship and crew are once again in the enemy’s crosshairs with nowhere to run.
Will she choose to break her Protectorate Captain’s code to save them? Will she go against everything she believes in? Everything she stands for? Will Caspia choose the mysterious, intoxicating, hazel green-eyed alien commander over her principles, her ship and the lives of her crew?
Defying the Alliance will be 5 episodes over 3 books.
Book 01 includes episodes 1 and 2.
Table of Contents
"Capt. Jones, will these holographic disguises be enough to fool the bio-metric sensors?"
Before I had a chance to slap the young ensign into next week, Jaxx had him by the throat and pinned to the stained metal wall of the corridor. "Sheetek! I will not die today because of your incompetence!" My trusted friend, one-time chief of security and now second in command roared in fury.
No matter how well the holographic projections shielded our faces or the bio-metric scrambling capability of our brand new implants were, announcing my name on a Novokin Alliance controlled space station, was simply asking for trouble. I tapped Jaxx on his massive arm through the thick sleeve of his disguise. "Ease off my friend, he didn't mean any harm."
Jaxx was still fuming, and the ensign was turning my least favorite shade of purple. "No holograms or biometric sensors will do us any good Captain, if this sheetek is shouting our names to the sensors."
"Come on Jaxx, let him go." A few more hard stares and the man relented. The ensign, once again under the purview of the station’s artificial gravity dropped to the floor, gasping for air.
I knelt down beside him. "Ensign, do you remember what we discussed about stealth protocols before venturing onto the station?"
He shook his head vigorously, still trying to pull air through the swelling in his throat. I shot my normally peaceful first officer a look that could melt the hull of a ship, but he was too busy pacing to be fully chastised by it.
Males.
Pfft!
The ensign coughed a few times and then whispered in a raspy voice, “All communication is to take place
-cough-
using code names
-cough-
and never ever the real names of the crew
-cough-
."
“What’s the purpose of the protocol Ensign?” I deadpanned.
“…to prevent detection by hostile forces Captain –.” A short coughing spell cut the last of his words.
“Are you trying to get us killed ensign?” I growled.
“No Captain,” he gulped. His eyes pleaded with me while his face burned crimson like a red dwarf star. I grabbed the underside of his arm and helped him up to his feet. I thought of brushing him off, but the dirt added a certain sense of authenticity to his disguise.
When constantly running for your life, and looking over your shoulder becomes a way of life, there's not much time left for drills. Adhering to protocol begins to fall short, and yet more often than not, it's the edge we need to survive. Ensign Chandles was well aware of this. Still, I felt responsible.
“Ok then Ensign, keep your head on straight and your tongue in check."
“Yes, Captain!” He responded with a sharp salute, then turned to my second in command Jaxx. “I’m truly sorry Sir. It will not happen again,” he assured the large man behind me, while dropping his chin to his chest. The contrite look in his face matched the sincerity in his voice.
“Ensign go on up ahead and keep watch for hostiles...Dismissed” I commanded, and he scurried off down the corridor.
Once the young recruit was out of earshot, I turned to my second in command whose rage had simmered down to a light boil. "We've got a timetable to keep my friend, and you know at this stage in your pregnancy your hormones are wreaking total havoc with your system."
I began to rub his upper back directly over his spine at his fourth dorsal vertebra. The tension in his wide shoulders relaxed instantly and he let out an audible sigh. At least I’d hoped it was a sigh. The book said that in his condition he’d be prone to multiple gaseous releases, with delayed olfactory recognition for the non-Floturans in the vicinity. And they might be deadly.
He dropped his voice to a near whisper. "I'm sorry Captain. These praking emotions are impossible to contain sometimes. One moment I’m euphoric like flowers in the spring, the next I’m depressed like the great willow, or worse I’m spiraling into a violent rage like I'm being uprooted.” In a decisively uncharacteristic move of my normally calm, well-restrained and rational friend, he folded his massive green arms around me squeezing the air out of my lungs. Pregnancy sure was doing a job on him. I could feel the two spawning buds on his large bellies kick and wiggle while he wept on my shoulder. Small drops of green ran down the sleeve of my well-worn brown coat.
"It's alright my friend." I consoled him by making small circles with light pressure over his mid-back just below his shoulder blades to stimulate the release of a balancing hormone chloraxin; a midwifery technique I had also learned from the book. If we made it off the station alive, I'd be sure to disseminate a copy of
Spiritual Mid-husbandry: Special Edition for Floturan Males
to every member of the crew. Mandatory reading.
"How in the dark abyss of Torgan infested waters did you find the chance to go home to reproduce?" I teased, deliberately changing the topic. Sure we had missions that separated us for days at a time, but not that long. Especially, considering his home world was way on the other side of Protectorate space.
I clenched my fist and drew in a sharp breath. No, not Protectorate space, we lived in Novokin Alliance space now. Even thinking the words turned my mouth to ash.
He wiped leaking eyes, dripping chlorophyll laden tears onto the grimy deck below and further staining my brown on brown disguise that resembled the official uniform of a Dauniete captain.
"As I told you before Captain, for some things you just make the time,” he replied and I could hear the smile in his voice. Good, I needed his mind right, if we were to live through today’s mission.
"The truth is I met my budmate 3 months ago. You probably remember her, she was the engineer on the Galorian freighter we docked with in sector 45. It was a surprise to me too. I mean, how was I to know that the hot Floturan petal I was flirting with would have a sexy pollinator as a roommate?" a smug little grin split his face, as he bounced his eyebrows suggestively.
Oh brother.
Now my longtime friend was practically tittering at the memory. I've been dry as a desert planet for almost three years and he's having a three-way harvest festival.
I'm sorry I asked.
The strain of his two big bellies on his large frame was evident with his forward drooping shoulders. His torso leaned backwards in a precarious angle, struggling to balance the extra weight. Green sweat rolled down his forehead and he looked, well... kind of green even for his people.
I felt a pang of guilt. All things being normal I would never have endangered his life on an away mission in his condition. I have way more respect for fathers-to-be. But having a crew of only nine people, on a ship that's meant to be manned by over 100 beings made everyone except my pilot and my conscience irreplaceable. Our supplies were dangerously low, mostly because we’d aborted the last three attempts to resupply in order to evade capture by the annoyingly vigilant Alliance authorities. We were lucky enough to land a deal here at Deep Proteus space station 5. That being said, no one knew the inner workings of a Deep Proteus space station as well as Jaxx, having served on one for over 15 years. Plus he set the rendezvous up through his private network, so the whole deal hinged on him being there. "Okay J, this is your contact, so I'll let you take point."
"Yes Captain. Give me a minute here. Please
-sniffle-
Ensign, do you have a nose cloth?” Jaxx called to him across the corridor. “I think something on the station is setting off my allergies," he blubbered.
Oh boy
, this was going to be a long night. The waterworks continued to flow for another several minutes while the ensign tenderly tried to console the much larger man.
"For gosh sakes,” I groaned. “Just stay behind me and let me handle this."
Exasperated as I was, I pushed past the two of them. The coordinates of our meeting put it just around the next corner, the largest junction on the maintenance level of the station. I checked the time. 19:05 and we were supposed to be there at 19:00.
Skeck!
"You're late!" A whiny voice drifted out from the protection of the darkened service corridor. Great, more skeck from another bottom feeder. Could my life get any worse? I mean, I used to lock these jokers up for prak's sake.
We stepped into the soft blue illumination of the nearby engineering panel. Our host’s nostrils flared and a resounding growl filled the small corridor.
"Prak a Klexite! I'm not doing business with any Daunietes. Nobody told me the deal was with Daunietes. I'm outta here," he gesticulated wildly towards his associates while whining like a yippy pood-odle dog; the one the pet-powers-that-be had bio-engineered as dogs made for space travel a few years ago. Come to think of it, maybe he just had to pee.
His rant brought him all the way out into the light.
Joy for me!
It wasn't just any bottom feeder. It was a bottom feeder that fed off the excrement of other bottom feeders when those bottom feeders were sick with the plague, and I had the misfortune of knowing this one personally. I knew for a fact that he'd tried to sell his own mother's kidneys on the intraworldnet, to three separate buyers, for several thousand credits each. I also knew for a fact that Uglevites didn't even have kidneys.
"Calm down Skeeves." I unclasped my inducer and switched off my holographic disguise so he could see my face. "Is that better?” I grimaced at the smell of him, my patience paper thin. “Now let's get this over with."
A toothy grin twisted through the pale yellow oozing mucus sac that served as his face. Like layers of melting cheese over a festering boil.
This just in, breaking news from my stomach – I'd never be eating cheese again.
"Why if it isn't the infamous Captain Caspia Jones. How the mighty have fallen? Look at you, making back alley deals with the likes of me. Why, I'm flattered Captain," he fluttered crusty lashes at me.
He tilted the oozing blob, which he called a head, sideways. I felt his leering gaze creep over every inch of my body. Bile rose to my throat which actually had the unexpected yet pleasant side effect of covering up his smell.
If we weren't so praking desperate for supplies and so far from any other outpost, I'd shoot a plasma bolt through his rippling head-sac and put him out of his misery, mine and probably a dozen other people's who would probably shower me with lavish gifts and give me a parade. But we really, really needed this trade. Forcing myself to look back at him, I shuddered.
Skeeves wasn’t really the problem here today. The three giant Oskevite -imagine the offspring of a giant ape mated with a naked Zulterian rhino- henchmen hovering behind him gave me pause. Using diplomacy with them would not only be considered rude but also a challenge to a warrior race like them. Time to earn some respect, and maybe avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Particularly if that blood belonged to me or mine.
"Don't be," I flatly answered his lingering comment. "I had no idea who our contact was before I arrived. Had I known, I most likely would have ejected the ore into the nearest star and been done with it."
He slithered up to me. His foul, putrid odor briefly made me wish the breathing apparatus in my holographic disguise was real.
"Oh Captain, you don't really think our little reunion is a coincidence now, do you? I've always suspected there was something special between us. You've shown me such leniency throughout the years. All those times you let me off with a slap on the wrist, or bit of a spanking. I feel obliged to return the favor. We've got some time here… Why don't you and I go for a drink and maybe a quick-." His body coiled in what he probably meant it to be a vulgar suggestion. He only managed to look like a Talerian worm trying to fend off a morning mimic bird.
"Prak no!" My stomach roiled, not nearly as amused as my brain and tried to shoot my breakfast out. Whether at the thought of him actually putting his hands on me or as a proactive defense mechanism to keep him away, I couldn't be sure. Either way the noise from my stomach invariably seemed to turn him on and he reached out to stroke my arm. I sidestepped his slimy touch, swallowed down more rising bile, then gave him and his cronies my death glare. It wasn't working. In fact, I was concerned it was having the opposite effect, at least from the teeny tiny tenting of Skeeves’s pants. I held back the urge to snap it off, but I was afraid he’d enjoy it too much. Then a brilliant thought popped into my head. I held out my hand, palm side up and shouted out to my first officer.
"J, get me a jar. A very smaaall jar."
"How small do you want it Captain?" he asked, falling right into step while the ensign just looked confused. Jaxx’s quick acumen and formidable size made him an excellent sidekick and it’s mainly the reason why I suffered through his galaxy-sized mood swings of late to have him by my side.
I held my hand up and made just enough space for a Temsian microscopic tic-fly to squeeze through between my forefinger and thumb. "Not too big. I don't want Skeeves to feel even more, less adequate than usual when I cut off what passes for his genitalia, put it in the jar and make him wear it around his neck."
This got the Oskevites chuckling. Good. Skeeves’s head darkened to a rich dijon mustard, then turned to glare at them, which only made them laugh harder. They pointed at the tiny bump in his skintight pants and lost all composure.
I raised my voice after a minute to cut through the now roarous laughter. "Let's just complete the deal and then we can all go our separate ways. What do you say Skeeves?”
The baleful glint in his eyes didn’t escape my notice. He would unequivocally be a problem one day. Maybe today would be that day. A slick plastic smile finally slid over his heated anger. “Whatever you say Captain Jones,” he enunciated before he passed me his data pad. I forced myself not to pop him, then I did the same with mine.
I looked over the terms with the scrutiny a drill sergeant saved for new mouthy cadets and swiped out two ridiculous concessions that were overtly placed into the deal to distract me from the real hidden screw overs in the contract. I swiped those out too, along with a seven year marriage contract hidden in the fine print.
Skeeves was busy inventorying the data on his pad. When he was finally through, he flashed me a crocodile smile, sitting below two very dark, shifty looking eyes; he was innocence personified. Had he not figured out pushing his luck would land him in the station's infirmary? Holding a jar? Skeck, we needed to be dealing with a better quality of lowlife.
"You know Captain Jones, not everyone you deal with will be as understanding as me. As I'm sure you're well aware of Captain Jones," I cringed every time my name oozed out of his fetid mouth, and followed it up with a silent prayer to the powers that be that no Alliance sensors picked it up, "all of the former Captains of the Protectorate were supposed to surrender to the Novokin Alliance military on Independence Day. There is a hefty price on the heads of those who disobeyed...,” he drawled, not at all creepy looking like a giant wrinkled infection ready to burst. "But I would never turn you in Captain, because you and I have a special relationship," he said mockingly, all hints of his previous lustfullness morphed into cold, cruel, calculating disdain.
I clenched my teeth until I thought they would crack.
You need to be calm Caspia.
I don't know what pissed me off more. This creep thinking we ever had any kind of relationship, or referring to the mass slaughter of our space sector as Independence Day.
"Listen Skeeves, I'm sure that as long as I'm carrying 50 kilomounds of ervedidite ore and 10 kilojectors of synthetic organoflavic gel, doing business with me is worth 10 times any bounty the Alliance puts out."
A predatory smile split the pustule he called a face, as he handed me back the signed data pad.
* * * *
I was happy to be through with this piece of skeck, but something in my brain itched. I turned back to Skeeves and his men. "Just remember, turning me or any of my crew in would be very bad for business. It might make that 10 kilojectors of synthetic organoflavic gel go boom boom." I held up a small silver-colored stick with my thumb poised over it.
His face turned from a sickly pale yellow to a snotgreen. That made me smile. I waved bye bye to him and his cronies as we walked away. "Thanks for the credits Skeeves."
Once out of earshot, I unwrapped the silver stick and broke off pieces of the sweetened carob-bean bar to share with my crewmates. Let that skeck search all day for nonexistent explosives. It'd serve him right.
Not three minutes later did my ear piece start to chirp. A coincidence I was getting a call from my ship just as we finished the deal? I sincerely doubted that. "Captain, are you there?"
It was Anya, chief engineer of the illustrious Protectorate Warbird class ship, the Razor.
My ship
. I left her in charge when we docked at the station, under strict orders for radio silence. If she was calling me it better be catastrophic. I tapped my ear piece to open up the channel.
"We're headed back to the nest, what's up mama bird?" Was anyone going to remember that we were supposed to use code words while on open channels?
Her voice was tinny due to the low-level frequency we had decided to transmit on. "A large number of official looking types have shown up around the docking ring asking questions. They seem to be taking one of the crews from a ship two slips down into custody. Can't say why, but it definitely looks too hot to come back to the nest."
Sheetek!
I would pop that cess-bag Skeeves the next time I saw him.
"Alright then, what's the verdict?" I trusted her to make an accurate assessment of the situation. Her intuition had helped keep us alive the last 3 years after all.
"Say an hour, give or take ten minutes. We'll let you know if there's any hawks in the sky. Mama bird out." With that she cut the transmission.
I was torn between pulling my hair out at the prospect of staying on this floating waste bucket for one more minute and doing a happy dance for the next hour that someone on this mission finally stuck to the code words.
I turned to face my two curious crew members. "Well fellas, it looks like Plan B."
They both looked at me with what I guessed by the tilting of their heads was confusion, the holograms hiding their real expressions. I gestured at them to follow me. "All right boys, it's time to blend in with the locals."