Alien Savior (Zerconian Warriors Book 5) Read online

  Alien Savior

  Sadie Carter

  Copyright

  Sadie Carter

  Alien Savior

  © 2016, Sadie Carter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This story contains explicit sex scenes.

  Cover Design: No Sweat Graphics

  Editor: Christie Giraud: EbookEditingPro

  Chapter One

  “Porridge? And here I had you pegged as a sausage kind of girl.”

  Willa glanced down at her bowl of gray gloop and counted silently to ten.

  Patience, Willa. Patience.

  When she’d joined the crew a few months ago, Rye had warned her she’d be in for a bit of a hard time from the others. There had been a few tricks, some laughs at her expense, but everyone had ceased to put her through a newbie hazing weeks ago.

  Except Mitch.

  “I bet you know exactly what to do with a sausage.”

  Willa ground her teeth together before moving to the bench. She placed her plate in the sink. Their spaceship was so old it actually had an old-fashioned sink, although they all used the D-Wash.

  Not everyone was happy Rye had given her this job. She was the only female and his sister. But if they thought she’d gotten this job because her brother was the captain then they were seriously mistaken.

  If anything, she’d had to work twice as hard to prove herself. She was an excellent mechanic. She didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Except maybe herself.

  Suddenly Mitch stepped up behind her, so close she could smell his rancid breath. A shudder of revulsion ran through her.

  He pressed his hips against her ass. “Feel that, baby? You know, the others were angry about having a female on board, but I think you could have your uses.”

  Willa quickly stepped to the side then swung around, catching him by surprise. Using her advantage, she grabbed his dick.

  “You want me to show you exactly what I can do with this?” She squeezed tight and his face grew red. “Hmm, not exactly performing, is it?”

  His cock was softer than a handful of marshmallow.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Let go, I’m warning you.”

  “Or what? I’m just getting acquainted with your baloney pony. Bit premature to end the party now. Although maybe you’re familiar with premature endings,” she said with false sympathy.

  “Bitch,” he spat out, squeezing her wrist until she let go. He took a few steps back.

  Willa gave a derisive laugh. “I take it back, it’s more breakfast sausage than baloney. Still, I could chop it up and fry it up for breakfast if you’d like.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Hands clenched, he stepped forward as Willa bounced lightly on her feet, ready.

  “Everything okay here?”

  Damn it.

  She glared over at Steele, who stood in the doorway. The weapons commander was built like a bull. Wide shoulders, trim waist, and every inch of him hard and muscular.

  “Fine,” Mitch said. Face red, he pushed past the other man and left. Willa let out a deep breath, her stomach trembling nervously as she wiped her hands on her pants to hide their shaking.

  “You know, Willa, you’d do well to keep your head down and get on with your work.”

  How the hell was this her fault? “For your information, Mitch provoked me. And I am doing my damn job. I’m good at what I do.”

  “Then start proving it.”

  “Fine. I will. Excuse me, I’ve got to get back to my job. The one I earned fair and square.”

  ***

  “Mother fucking son of a bitch.” Willa strained to turn a bolt. Crappy old piece of junk. Damn thing had been stuck for years and didn’t want to budge. “Rotten carca carcass, move damn you.”

  She was lying on a metal bridge under the engine in the deep heart of the ship. Sweat dripped down her back. In an attempt to keep herself cool, she’d pulled the top of her overalls down and wrapped the arms around her waist. Her tank top was plastered against her skin as her muscles shook with fatigue.

  And that damn bolt hadn’t moved at all.

  A chuckle made her roll over to glare down at her brother, Zuma, where he leaned against the wall, a huge grin on his face. With his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and a wicked glint in his green eyes, Zuma was handsome, and he had enough charisma to guarantee you looked at him twice. If he’d applied himself, she was pretty certain he could have ruled the universe. But he had no interest in taking life seriously. He was easy going, charming and had a strange sense of humor.

  Oh, and he was also batshit crazy.

  “What’s so funny?” She’d spent the last forty minutes undoing the other three bolts so she could remove the panel to repair the leaking fuse inside. She didn’t intend to let this last bolt get the best of her. Even if she was sweaty, filthy, and completely and utterly pissed off.

  Her brother better tread carefully. Very carefully.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be steering this pile of crap instead of watching me?” she asked.

  “That’s what autopilot is for. Not like we’re moving that fast anyway.”

  Didn’t she know it?

  “Haven’t you got that panel off yet?”

  Rolling her eyes, she turned to see her oldest brother, Rye, now standing by Zuma. They shared the same dark hair and green eyes, but Rye kept his hair short and he was more serious and focussed.

  While Zuma made grown women trip over their tongues, Rye had a quieter presence. But he was a born leader. They put their lives in his hands and he had never let them down.

  “Nearly,” she told him.

  “That fuse has to be fixed before we get much closer to Lilan.”

  “I know. I’m working on it. Sheesh.”

  “Need me to undo that bolt for you?” Zuma asked.

  “No, I don’t.” This was her job. She wasn’t about to let one stubborn, rusty, old bolt get in her way.

  “You know, if you’d upgrade from this heap of junk, I wouldn’t have this problem.” She strained. “Fucking ass wipe.”

  “Hey, don’t talk about Betsy that way,” Zuma protested. She glanced down to find him patting a side panel lovingly. “You’re a good old girl, aren’t you? Don’t listen to mean Willa.”

  Willa rolled her eyes. “She’s a hundred-year-old rust bucket, not a toddler.”

  The bolt moved an inch. Or maybe it was just her imagination, spurred on by desperation. If she couldn’t do her job, then she had no doubt Rye would kick her off the team.

  Everyone knew Rye didn’t cut any slack for family. Not even the baby sister he’d raised from a toddler. As he’d told her when he’d hired her on, this was about business not family. Anyone who couldn’t cut it put the rest of the crew, and their livelihood, at risk. The credits they made from each mission had to feed a lot of mouths. They couldn’t afford to fuck up.

  So if this bolt didn’t damn well move in the next few minutes she was getting a laser and cutting it off!

  Suddenly, with a groan, the bolt shifted.

  Sweet mercy.

  Thankfully, she caught the cover before it landed on her head. That would have added to her embarrassment.

  “Don’t you two have somewhere else to be?”

  “How long?” Rye asked.

  “Twenty m
inutes.”

  “I’ll give you thirty. If it takes any longer, Mitch will take over.” Rye turned and left.

  Mitch? Over her dead body would that little jerk get his hands on her engine.

  Zuma laughed. “I think he’s growing more cheerful in his old age.”

  She snorted. Rye was serious and driven. Some thought him cold. He’d been seventeen when their parents died. He didn’t have to stick around. Didn’t have to take responsibility for his five younger siblings.

  Yeah, he might be emotionally distant and a hard, demanding leader. But he took care of those around him. That was more than she could say for most other men she knew.

  “Go away, will you? I need to concentrate.” She didn’t want Zuma to see how she shook with exhaustion. No matter how hard she trained, she never built up muscle like the others.

  “You get grumpy when you’re stressed.”

  “I’m not stressed.”

  “Uh-huh. Fine, I know when I’m not wanted.”

  Not wanted. She rolled her eyes. Willa doubted he knew that feeling at all. A different woman in every port was no exaggeration. Women flocked to him. They didn’t care that he wasn’t interested in happy ever after.

  Twenty-five minutes later, rubbing her hands on an old rag, Willa paused outside the door to the bridge. Only one day out from Lilan airspace and the overdrive had malfunctioned. They had a cargo bay full of weapons they’d be contracted to deliver to the Lilans and time was running out.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed back her exhaustion, hiding it behind a cocky attitude.

  “All done and with five minutes to spare.” Walking inside, she hopped onto a seat next to Rye. He didn’t turn from studying his tablet.

  “You’re five minutes late,” he countered.

  “You gave me thirty.”

  “And you said twenty.”

  Slave driver. She glared at him, but didn’t argue. Any of her other brothers she’d give them as good as she got. But not Rye. She owed him everything.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked instead.

  Zuma turned in his chair, a wide smile on his face. Oh crap, she didn’t like that grin. That was his, ‘I’m about to do something crazy that might get us all killed’ grin.

  It was a grin she’d seen too many times. And there had been way too many near misses for her liking.

  “What do you have planned?” she asked.

  “We just received intel from the Lilans. Coizil warships are circling the planet, right outside the shield.”

  “Jesus, they’re like wolves circling for the kill.”

  Lilan had been suffering from internal unrest for years. The government had finally put down the insurgents but at a huge cost. The Coizils, sensing weakness, were ready to take advantage. Scum of the universe, the Coizils were scavengers. Which is why the Lilans badly needed the weapons they were transporting.

  The only thing standing in the Coizils way was the shield surrounding Lilan, protecting the planet from outsiders. But it wouldn’t hold keep out forever.

  “Can we sneak past them?” she asked.

  “There’s no way we wouldn’t come up on their radar.” Rye tapped his fingers against his thigh.

  “So what then?”

  Zuma’s grin widened.

  “What are you thinking?” Trepidation filled her.

  “I’m thinking that there’s no time like the present to test out Kyle’s cloaking device.”

  He had truly lost it now. “We don’t even know if his cloaking device works. Even if it does work, we don’t know how long it will last for. It will probably stop working right at the wrong moment.” Their brother Kyle was a brilliant inventor, but he hadn’t properly tested the cloaking device.

  “Then it’s just as well you fixed the overdrive because we’ll need it to get out of there,” Rye said.

  So they all agreed with Zuma’s plan? That never happened.

  “Can’t we use the overdrive and pass under them?”

  Rye shook his head. “They’re too close to the shield. If the Lilans don’t pull the shield at the right time, we could crash into it and explode. And they can’t keep it open for long and risk the Coizils getting past.”

  If they had an updated overdrive autopilot system, it would automatically avoid any obstacles or pull them to a stop. But no, they had the outdated overdrive that required a clear path of passage.

  They didn’t use it often because it was extremely risky.

  She expected this sort of plan from Zuma, but Rye was supposed to be the sensible one. “This is a suicide mission.”

  “Your opinion is noted,” Rye said.

  But it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. She glanced around the bridge. Everyone remained silent, but she could sense their determination.

  “Guess I better buckle up then,” she muttered. “Have I got time to send a last message to Kyle and Duke? Tell them they’re welcome to my pet stone collection and not to wait for us?”

  She tended to get mouthy when she was nervous or stressed.

  Rye gave her a look and she quickly shut up.

  “Have a little faith,” Zuma told her with a pout.

  Oh, she did. She had complete and utter faith they were all going to die.

  ***

  “You left without telling anyone.” Koran scowled.

  Darac stared at the holographic image of his old friend. They both knew why he’d left. But Koran didn’t want to acknowledge it. Didn’t want to say the word.

  Goodbye.

  That’s why he left without telling anyone. He wanted to avoid this awkward conversation.

  “You know why.”

  “Did you wait until we’d left for Mercuria to leave?”

  Of course he had. It was easier that way. Or it would have been if he had taken care of matters before they discovered he was gone.

  “We will find your mate.” Koran’s voice was filled with force. With belief. It was easy to believe when you had found your mate. Mila was the other half of Koran’s soul. Darac’s soul was nearly lost. So he’d done the only thing he could.

  He’d left.

  Darac shook his head. “It is too late, old friend. I am too far gone.”

  “You do not seem out of control,” Koran countered.

  Every iota of control he possessed was being utilised to keep himself sane. Anger gnawed away at him. Had he stayed on Zerconia, he would have been a risk to all those around him.

  The honorable thing, the only thing he could do was leave before he was completely lost. For nearly a hundred years he had lived without his mate. He could no longer go on without his other half.

  Darac wanted to end this without hurting anyone, with his dignity and self-respect still intact.

  “Darac? Darac, go home.” Mila popped up in front of Koran. The tiny human didn’t even reach Koran’s shoulders.

  “I cannot, small human.”

  She scowled, a stubborn look crossing her face. “Yes, you can. Just turn your little spaceship around and go home. Or wait for us to come get you.”

  “Mila,” Koran placed his hands on her shoulders, giving Darac an understanding look, “Darac has to do this.”

  “No, he doesn’t. I know what’s happening here. You’ve left because you’ve given up hope of finding your mate. You think you’re being all self-sacrificing and other kinds of bullshit. But you’re not. You’re being selfish.”

  Darac’s eyes widened and his temper stirred. Lately, it felt as though he were two people in one body. “You call me selfish for wanting to protect others?”

  “Selfish and a coward!” she told him.

  Koran placed his hand over her mouth. “She does not know what she says, Darac.”

  “I think she does. Let her speak.” Rage filled him. This was it. This was what would send him over the edge.

  Koran lifted his hand.

  Tears dripped down Mila’s face. “You’re a coward because you’re not fighting it, Darac. You need to fight. We’
ll find your mate. You just need to fight.”

  Only the utter sorrow in her gaze gave him the ability to claw the beast back. “I am lost, little one.”

  She shook her head, sobbing. Her pain stabbed at him. “No, no, please.”

  Koran turned her, holding her close. His gaze met Darac’s. “Be at one with the stars, old friend.”

  Darac nodded. “Take care of your mate.” The image of Koran and Mila disappeared, leaving a deep well of sadness.

  Switching the autopilot off, he aimed his small spacecraft towards the space rubbish he had spotted. Perfect.

  It was time to end this.

  ***

  They were five hours away from Lilan—and certain death.

  Willa checked her hands. Was she shaking? Yep, her hands were trembling slightly. She quickly hid them under her thighs before anyone could notice.

  “What the hell is that crazy bastard doing?” Zuma asked.

  She stared out the large viewing portal as she sat on the bridge, spotting the small ship Zuma had seen. It was headed straight towards a pile of space rubbish.

  “That’s a Zerconian spaceship,” Deacon said. The coms expert was a quiet man. Willa would guess his age at around late forties, but it was hard to know. His tanned face was heavily lined and there was more salt than pepper in his hair, but he moved like a much younger man.

  “Why doesn’t the pilot pull up?” Zuma asked.

  They watched the smaller ship head closer to certain death. Space rubbish was a hazard, especially to small ships.

  “Try to contact the ship,” Rye ordered.

  Deacon spun back to his screen. “They’ve turned their coms system off.”

  “Zerconians have got some nice tech on their ships.” Zuma turned to look at her. “Could be useful, huh, Willa?”

  She nodded. “You think we can pull it on board? What about the crew?”

  “They’re a wealthy race,” Steele said. “We could ransom the crew.”

  Rye nodded. “Bring it in.”

  ***

  Willa stepped into the cargo bay, studying the Zerconian spaceship. It was small, designed to only hold two people, but it looked almost brand new. Excited by the idea of getting her hands on it, she stepped forward.