Page 11 of Alien’s Love Child

CHAPTER 11

JESSE

M y boots barely make a sound against the concrete as I slip away from the window. The rain pelts my face, mixing with the cold sweat breaking out across my skin. That bastard Xander has been using my ship, my crew, as his personal data storage.

"Rena, you copy?" I whisper into my PerComm, ducking behind a dumpster as footsteps echo from around the corner.

"Here, Cap. Everything okay?"

"Run a full system scan. Look for any hidden files, especially in the auxiliary drives." My heart pounds against my ribs. "And get Taluk. Have him guard the door. Tell Par to check Xander's room for…anything. Oh, and get the robot to scan for any small and artificial bugs."

"What's going on?"

"Just do it. And Rena? Don't let anyone on or off that ship until I get back."

The footsteps fade away. I press my back against the wet wall, my mind racing through possibilities. If the Alliance finds those weapon schematics on my ship, we're all going down for terrorism. Life in a mining colony would be the best-case scenario.

Through the rain-streaked darkness, I stare at the warehouse's grimy windows. My fingers trace the spot on my arm where Davin grabbed me, practically throwing me toward the exit. The memory of his touch burns hotter than the bruise forming underneath.

"Get to the ship," he'd growled, his silver hair hanging over his face. "I'll handle this."

Handle this? There are at least eight armed thugs in there, not counting whatever backup might show up. The rational part of my brain screams to run, to protect my ship and crew. But my feet won't move.

A crash echoes from inside, followed by muffled shouts. My hand drifts to my blaster.

"Damn you, Davin," I whisper, the words catching in my throat. "You magnificent idiot."

The rain soaks through my jacket, but I barely notice the cold. All those little moments flash through my mind – the way he'd lean against the galley doorframe during late-night talks, how his eyes would soften when he thought I wasn't looking. Even the lies felt like half-truths, wrapped in genuine care.

My PerComm chirps. Rena's voice cuts through the patter of rain. "Jesse? Found something. It's bad."

"I know." My voice cracks. "But I can't—" Another crash from the warehouse. "I can't leave him."

"Leave who? What's happening?"

My heart clenches. He might be lying about his past, might have his own agenda, but no one fakes the way he stepped between me and danger. No one risks their life for a mark like that.

"You better survive this," I mutter. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Jesse, the Port Authority is knocking. And they have backup. A lot of it."

The sound of gunfire from inside the warehouse snaps me back to reality. I press my PerComm closer to my mouth. "Stall them, Rena. Cover story twenty-three."

"The maintenance crew one? Jesse, there's at least six Port Authority ships out there."

"Perfect. More people to convince we're just a bunch of broke repair techs on vacation." My fingers tap against the wet wall. "Remember, we've never heard of any scientist. Par's already wiping Xander's quarters?"

"Started the second you called. Taluk's helping."

A bitter laugh escapes my throat. "Good. Make sure they see his clumsy act. Nothing sells 'harmless' like a Vakutan tripping over his own feet."

"And what about the hidden files?"

"Dump them into a secured drive and bury it in the cargo hold. Behind the spare converter should work." The rain plasters my hair to my face. "If they ask why we're planetside?—"

"Yeah, yeah. Needed to stretch our legs after that long haul. Already retrieving the fake chart history. Got it." She pauses. "But Jesse, what about?—"

"Tell them I'm at the market getting supplies. Also I simply can't get enough of antique shopping." Another burst of gunfire makes me flinch. "And Rena? You've never seen a Kaleidian on this ship."

"What about the logs?"

"Wipe them. All of them. I don't care if you have to fry half our systems to do it." My free hand clenches into a fist. "Make us boring. Make us forgettable."

"On it, Cap." The sound of boots on metal comes through the comm. "They're boarding now."

"Show time. Don't forget to complain about the pay."

"Please. I was born ready to whine about money." The PerComm goes silent.

The bell chimes as I burst into Madame Liu's antique shop, my boots squeaking against the polished floor. The old woman looks up from her sweeping, her wrinkled face creasing with concern.

"Back so soon, dear?" I can hear the fear in her voice, and she peeks around me to see if I'm being followed.

"I need—" My lungs burn. "Something. Anything. Like we talked about earlier?"

Her dark eyes narrow, taking in my rain-soaked clothes and wild expression. Without a word, she disappears behind a curtain of wooden beads.

"Please hurry," I whisper, bouncing on my toes. My PerComm vibrates – another message from Rena. I ignore it.

Madame Liu emerges with a small cloth doll, its stitched smile slightly crooked. "This one speaks to you, I think. Very old Earth design. Handmade."

"Perfect." I fumble with my credit chip. "How much?"

She presses the doll into my hands. "For my favorite customer? Consider it a gift."

"I can't?—"

"Take it." Her fingers close around mine. "And whatever trouble you're in, child? Be careful."

I stuff the doll into my jacket pocket and sprint three blocks to the market district. The vegetable stalls blur past until I spot one with a bored-looking vendor.

"Give me whatever's in season," I say, slapping my credit chip on the counter. "Enough for a crew of five."

The vendor raises an eyebrow ridge. "That's... quite vague."

"Surprise me. Just make it look like I've been shopping all morning."

He loads a bag with purple tubers, something leafy and green, and what might be carrots if carrots were blue. I grab it and turn to leave.

"Your change?—"

"Keep it."

My boots slip on the wet pavement, sending me sprawling. The produce spills across the ground, a purple tuber rolling into a puddle. The doll in my pocket digs into my hip as I scramble up, snatching what I can salvage back into the bag.

It takes everything in me to calm my breathing.

The landing pad looms ahead, my ship's silver hull gleaming under the port lights. Two Authority cruisers block the main approach, their running lights cutting red swaths through the rain.

An officer steps into my path, hand raised. "Ma'am, this area is?—"

A massive furry form shoulders past him. "Captain! You got the spices!" Paraxan's whiskers twitch as he grabs the grocery bag. "Perfect timing. The stew's almost ready."

"Par, I told you not to cook without?—"

"Everyone loves my cooking." He wraps one arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the ship. "Even found my special seasoning blend this morning. Been aging it in the cargo hold."

The officer clears his throat. "Sir, we're conducting an investigation?—"

"Investigation?" Paraxan's ears perk up. "Oh, you must be here about the converter! Told the boss it needed replacing months ago, but you know how cheap these private operators are." He leans closer to the officer, dropping his voice. "Between us? The pay's terrible. But the food allowance..." He pats his round belly.

"Actually, we're?—"

"Speaking of food!" I pipe up, forcing a smile. "That stew won't cook itself. Right, Par?"

"Right, right." He guides me up the ramp, still chattering. "Did you get those purple things? The ones that taste like Earth potatoes? Last batch was stringy, but if you boil them just right..."

The ramp hisses shut behind us, cutting off the officer's protests.

The cargo hold's door slides open, revealing two Port Authority officers looming over Rena and Taluk. Three more officers are scattered around, one hanging upside down in an access shaft while another pries open panels with suspicious precision.

"What's going on here?" I drop my shopping bag, letting a few tubers roll across the floor. Taluk stumbles, nearly tripping as he bends to pick them up.

"Sorry, Cap," he mumbles. "They just started?—"

"Ma'am." The taller officer steps forward, his badge reading 'Waxan.' "We have reason to believe this vessel is involved in illegal smuggling operations."

I press a hand to my chest, letting out a sharp laugh. "Smuggling? Us?" My eyes drift to where Rena stands, arms crossed. "We can barely afford fuel most days."

"Then perhaps you'd like to explain these discrepancies in your maintenance logs?" The second officer waves a datapad. "Three stops in the past month at unregistered ports."

"Unregistered?" I snatch the pad, scrolling through. "Those are independent colonies. They can't afford Alliance certification, but their cash spends just fine." I toss it back. "Look, we're not exactly premium contractors here. We go where the work is."

"And where the oversight isn't."

"Because we sometimes skip the environmental impact forms?" I roll my eyes. "Yeah, guilty. Sue us. But smuggling? That's..." I gesture at Taluk, who's managed to spill half the groceries again. "Have you seen my crew?"

Par chooses that moment to sneeze, sending fur floating everywhere. The officer in the access shaft yelps, losing his grip.

"We're a budget operation," I continue. "Cut-rate parts, long hours, terrible pay. Ask anyone." I spread my arms. "But smuggling? That's crossing a line. We're just trying to make a living here."

"Then you won't mind if we continue our search?"

My fingers twitch toward the doll in my pocket. "Fine. But you're paying for any panels you break. And keep your hands off my private quarters – a girl's got to have some secrets."

An explosion rocks through the port, rattling the ship's hull. My bones vibrate with the force of it, and for a second, I can't breathe.

Waxan's PerComm lights up with urgent chatter. "All units respond. Explosion at Warehouse Seven. Possible terrorist activity."

"Sir!" One of the officers rushes up from the cargo hold. "They're calling everyone in."

"Stay put." Waxan jabs a finger at me. "We're not done here. We have your registration codes. If this ship moves one inch, you'll all be in prison by dinner."

The officers sprint down the ramp. Through the viewport, I watch their cruisers lift off, emergency lights painting the rain red and blue.

My legs give out. I grab the nearest wall, my fingers finding the grooves between panels.

"Jesse?" Rena's voice sounds far away. "Jesse, what was that?"

I sit stunned, my only hope left that this snake of a bounty hunter was slick enough to get out of this one too.