Legend Beyond The Stars (3 page)

“By the holy hem of Cercis’ cloak, they register as human. And carbon based.”

He heard Magar mutter as he rechecked the scanner. Tarak noted the instrument in his subordinate’s hands give a minute wobble.

Tarak stood motionless, legs apart, his in-built scanners first checking the room for danger and then zeroing in on the inhabitants. There appeared to be around forty or fifty of them bunched together at the far end of the room. A small group of five stood in front and gave the impression of a protective barrier. He raised his brows.

Most unusual
.

His stomach muscles clenched.
Had those rogue traders found something of value?
He drew a deep breath. Through the filters in his suit drifted the familiar scent of fear.

And …?

He scowled. Inhaled with deliberation using all his senses to collate data and analyse. A faint whiff. A scent he had almost forgotten.
Female
.

Then, to his extreme astonishment, sexual interest stirred deep down in his groin.

Nostrils dilating, he stalked towards the group in the centre of the room, his two subordinates kept pace. Without communicating with his men, he knew by the level of tension flooding the room, they also had detected the tantalising scent.

A Jurian male in an out-moded jumpsuit lingered close-by, flapping his hands. Three fellow Jurians waited in a huddle near the far wall. All the females were clothed in an odd assortment of garments. Different skin tones and facial features revealed they were of different races, bound together by their mutual fear of the enemy.

One of the females caught his attention. She stood straight as any warrior a pace or two in front of the others and with her square chin tilted starward, her posture radiated a proud defiance. He stared, his gaze sweeping over a slim body with soft curves easily discernable beneath the flight suit, to linger on her face, drinking in the clear blue-green of her eyes and the paleness of her skin. This one with her air of command and direct gaze baffled him. A strange pull urged him to step closer and he shook his shoulders as if to rid himself of an uncomfortable itch.

He forced himself to remain cautious. It would be foolish to assume success—for the traders were as slippery as coda worms.

This could be an elaborate ruse to throw them off guard.

And the swift recollection of the Elite battle cruiser heading with lethal intent towards their co-ordinates cooled Tarak’s heated blood.

Chapter Two

Predators!
Alana stared horrified at her first glimpse of this new threat. The women at her side cringed. She spared them a quick, encompassing glance.

Jessamine stood goggled eyed. “Oh, moma. They are huge. Are you sure we can do this, Alana?”

Faint perspiration dotted Elise’s forehead. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she wailed.

“There’s no time for hysterics Elise. Now everyone just remain calm. Let me do the talking. I’m sure these aliens will listen to reason.” Alana spoke with a feigned brisk reassurance. It wouldn’t do to show the mounting apprehension which clawed at her gut.

She didn’t blame the women for their fear. It had been all she could do to control a yelp when the aliens had trooped into the room. They exuded an aura of danger and death.

And she was used to the sight of battle hardened soldiers. Behind her she could hear the gulping snivels of some of the women.

Weeping and wailing would not help them now.

Alana wiped her damp palms against her thighs, irritated when her knees quivered as insubstantial as dandelion fluff. She squared her shoulders.
I can do this! I have to
. She stepped forward a few paces.

And waited.

The alien she assumed to be their leader came to a halt a mere arm’s length from her.

And waited.

The two other aliens had also stopped, one on either side of their leader. Alana swallowed over the dryness parching her throat. Directly in front of her was a massive chest. Her gaze traced a slow path upwards, marvelling at the intricate black armour which covered the alien. It moved with smooth coordination towards her. Amazing how the technology allowed such freedom of movement and yet obviously offered effective shielding.

She positively itched to try the suit herself.

The creature’s outward appearance showed a reassuring humanoid composition. Alana gaped upwards. Never had she seen anything or anyone so huge. It towered over her, and she was a tall woman. Alarm bells clanged inside her head.

With shoulders so wide she could not see past and that non-reflective black armour stuff covering thick forearms, a massive chest and sturdy legs, the alien exuded an aura of power and danger. Her curiosity pricked at the sight of what appeared to be control panels inlaid into the armour above the wrist and along the full length of the arm. It had big hands, gloved and lying in a casual flex position by its side.

Her gaze travelled downwards. Various items which she took to be weapons hung from a belt at its waist, slim hips and massive thighs, again all encased in armour, knee high boots.

She quickly jerked her gaze upwards to where she imaged its eyes must be.
That is, if it has eyes! Now, now, Alana. Get a grip
. What the devil lived under that extraordinary suit?

A tiny midget manipulating controls? A grotesque squid-like being with no soul?

Lurid images of torture scenes fed from a lifetime of watching science fiction and horror vids rose up to haunt her.
Fool! Concentrate
.

She took a deep breath to state her name, rank and serial number when it moved. The words shrivelled on her tongue, like snowflakes in a bitter Arctic winter wind as with deliberate measured steps, the alien leader circled her.

It stopped.

Alana swore she could feel its gaze boring into her, as relentless as an oil rig drilling for hidden wealth. She sensed it was attempting to analyse her strengths and weaknesses.

The chamber vibrated with a tension so tangible she wouldn’t have been surprised to see it shimmering like a summer heatwave in the air.

The urge to run, as far and as fast as she could, screamed in her brain.

This was more than fear.

A shudder racked through her. With an immense effort, she buried this weird primeval apprehension by calling upon her years of military training.
Damn it, but this ‘inspection’ was humiliating
. Pride whipped through her. She stood at attention, her posture so stiff she felt if she moved she would snap in two.

Pressure smoothed over her short hair, lifting the strands, the stroke soothing down towards her nape.
Oh God, it’s touching me
!

Her breath hitched in her throat and fear cinched her lungs in a tight embrace while her heart raced out of control. Norman’s words repeated in her mind.
‘From my investigations I understand you are required for research. Why and exactly what type of research I have been unable to ascertain. I do know the Darkons seek females from any race, in particular, females that are carbon based …’

Anger obliterated her fear.
A lab rat! No way! That was
so
not going to happen
.

The touch drifted away.

Alana set her jaw. Just as well. If it dared prise open her mouth and inspect her teeth, she’d pound him into the deck.

The alien continued its circle with excruciating deliberation, then once again stood in front of her. She was certain it examined her as if she was a rare specimen.

The leader snapped off a pouch which dangled from its belt. It appeared to judge the weight by tossing it in the palm of its hand a few times. The alien performed a military about-turn and marched over to where the Scaleen captain perched on his hover board, a crow hovering over road kill.

“Your payment,” the alien growled. He threw the pouch at the Scaleen captain. “We will take all of them.”

Alana felt the ripple of shock wash over the women behind her.

Norman had been right
.

Alana closed her eyes for a second and willed everyone to maintain control. She concentrated on her steadying her breathing and regained focus.

”Three is not enough. For all of them, you must give us …” The Scaleen trader paused to confer with his confederates. They muttered together, hoods bobbed up and down. “Yes, yes. Six you must give us six. They are valuable. We can get much, much more from the Elites.”

The alien leader reached out and grabbed the Scaleen trader by its scrawny neck. He shook the smaller body with such vigour the captain lost hold of his hover board. It clattered to the floor. The other Scaleen traders twittered and hissed. They made no move to assist their comrade.

“You do plan to betray us.” The leader tossed the Scaleen into a corner, where it cowered quivering and made hoarse hacking noises. The alien turned back to the group of females. He signalled his soldiers and half trooped forward to surround them. The remaining warriors trained their weapons on the agitated Scaleens.

Ugh, time to act
. The situation had deteriorated. Any minute now guns would start blazing. And they would be caught in the middle, between heavily armed giants and a bunch of scrawny pygmy creatures.

The small alien appeared to be unhurt. He shook his head and scurried, hissing, to his hover board. She touched the translator, a thin clerical collar they all wore around their neck, and muttered a silent word of gratitude. Norman had assured the women they would also be able to understand these morons, but Alana had been sceptical. She was glad she had been proved wrong.

Remember the mission
.

She slipped between the armoured aliens and stalked towards their leader.

”My name,” she said in an authoritative manner, “is Captain Alana Knight of the United Defence Force. We are from the planet Earth. Our mission is to colonise a new-earth but we have been deceived and taken against our will. We demand to be returned to our home planet.”

She halted a mere hair’s breadth from its chest. Clenching her hands into fists, she fought a war of nerves, well aware the creature could blast her to oblivion at any moment.

Sweat trickled down her back.

A murmur arose from the alien soldiers as if they were disconcerted by her bravado. Alana guessed they were used to intimidating their enemies by sheer size alone.

“Go, girl!” Jessamine piped up in shaky support.

Alana’s resolve strengthened. “This is your one chance. I suggest you let us go or suffer the consequences.” She lifted her chin with an outward show of confidence. Ignored her disquiet and stared at the alien. It was so tall, a crick sliced down her neck as she waited. Really, you would have thought it would have reacted by now, but no, the alien stood silent, head now tilted at a slight angle to one side.

She frowned.

It was breathing long slow deep breaths. For a second she had the weird impression it was drawing her scent deep into its airways.
A hunter scenting its prey?
Could the alien be uncertain of its next move? Perhaps it was confounded by the situation. Or perhaps … by them?

Again, a deep sense of foreboding swept over her but she shrugged it off.

Before she could take advantage of its confusion, a shrill alarm split the weighted silence. Alana glanced around the room.

Some serious looking weapons appeared in the aliens’ hands, aimed in their direction.

The Scaleen traders started to shriek and hiss in dismay.

Alana shot a quick sideways glance at Norman, but their so-called ally appeared on the verge of fainting as he goggled wide eyed at the warriors. No help from that quarter, she mused.

One of the alien giants spoke into a communicating device and approached their leader. “The Elite battle cruiser has fired on the traders’ ship causing a breach in the hull on the lower level. They are demanding the traders heave to and ready for boarders.”

“Fools!” snarled the alien, directing his glare at the Scaleen traders who ducked their hoods under his scorn. “To think the Elites would honour any agreement.” He snorted. “We will deal with this situation and return.”

The other alien indicated the females. “What will we do with our payload?”

“Place two warriors on guard duty. Order up a squad from the entry bay to escort them to our shuttles. The traders will accompany us to their command bridge. We will fire a salvo from the Ark to divert the Elite battle cruiser. Half one rone and we will be off this scrap heap with our payload.”

The portal slid shut after the last warrior had tramped through with the Scaleen Traders herded before them like reluctant sheep. A young woman thrust her way through the group of women and jogged over.

”Now what?” Carly asked.

Alana snapped her fingers. “Simple. We take advantage of this situation. We escape.”

“Escape?” shrieked a blonde woman. She raised expertly plucked eyebrows to an impossible height. “Escape to what? I insist that we stay here.”

“Linette, you heard what just happened. We’ve been ‘sold’ to some aliens. According to Norman, we’ll be used for research. Do you really want to end up in a laboratory?”

The other woman covered her mouth with trembling hands. She hissed past immaculate nails, “Wait, how do we know we can trust him, Alana? He’s an alien. He’s one of them.” Linette’s eyes narrowed into slits of bottle-green glass.

“Well, Norman. Here’s your chance. You’re also a captive and will be sold into slavery. Will you and your friends help us? If you do, it means there will be no turning back, no changing your mind. Because if you betray us, I’ll personally make sure you don’t survive another minute. But if you join forces with us, you’ll have a chance at freedom.”

“Freedom.” The alien’s lips wobbled. “I have almost forgotten what the word means. It has been so long.” He bowed his head for a few moments.

Alana scrutinised Norman, watching, analysing his every expression. If he betrayed them, she knew she would have no compunction in carrying out her promise. Beside her Linette’s foot tapped an anxious staccato on the tiled floor.