Page 3 of Alien’s Love Child

CHAPTER 3

JESSE

T he landing gear whines as we touch down on Erebus's dusty surface. Through the viewport, the refueling station's neon signs flicker against the perpetual twilight, casting purple shadows across the empty landing pad.

"Stay put," I tell Xander, who's already buried in whatever he's typing on his PerComm. "We'll be back once we've arranged the refuel."

He doesn't even look up. "Understood."

The cargo bay door descends with a hydraulic hiss, and Taluk's scales shimmer as he stretches in the dim light. "That guy gives me the creeps."

"Yeah? His money doesn't give me the creeps at all." I step onto the metal ramp. "Keep your opinions to yourself until after we get paid."

Taluk snorts. "If we get paid. Something's off about him."

"When isn't something off about our passengers?" The metal grating clanks under our boots as we head toward the station's office. "Besides, Marv owes me a favor. We'll be in and out before anyone notices we're here."

"You sure about that?" Rena asks. "Place looks dead."

He's right. The usual bustle of mechanics and cargo handlers is conspicuously absent. My hand instinctively moves to where my wallet should be – except it isn't there.

"Shit." I pat my empty pocket. "Left my wallet on the ship. You two go ahead, I'll catch up."

"Want company?" Rena asks.

"Nah, just get Marv to start the refuel. Back in five."

I turn and head back toward the ship. The shadows between the landing pad lights seem darker than usual, and movement catches my eye. A figure in a dark coat approaches my ship, his blue skin stark against the twilight.

My heart pounds. No one should be anywhere near my ship.

"Need some help there?" My hand rests on my concealed blaster as I call out.

The Kaleidian spins around, silver hair shimmering with light His hand twitches toward his hip before relaxing. "Actually, you might be exactly who I need. This your ship?"

"Depends who's asking." I take a step closer, keeping my stance loose but ready.

"Name's Davin." He spreads his hands, showing they're empty. "Used to run cargo on the Alliance route until raiders hit us last month. Lost my whole crew, my livelihood. Been planetside ever since, looking for work."

"That's a sad story." My eyes scan his clothes – too well-maintained for someone down on their luck. "Raiders are getting bold these days."

"Tell me about it. Took everything except what I had on me." He gestures at his jacket. "Been living off savings, but they're running dry. I've got experience, references if you need them. Willing to take any position available. I can do maintenance, custodial work, I can even flex my muscles at your command."

I swallow something in my throat; I certainly bet he could. The way he’s towering over me is sending a chill up my spine.

But the timing's too perfect. A strange Kaleidian, approaching my ship right when we've got sensitive cargo? My PerComm vibrates – probably Rena wondering what's taking so long.

"References from your old employer?"

"Course. Though getting in touch might be tricky, given recent events."

His story sounds rehearsed, practiced. But there's something in the way he holds himself – military straight, despite trying to appear casual. Could be legitimate. Could also be police, or worse.

"What route did you say you worked?" I ask, watching his reaction.

"Alliance. Mainly raw ore runs from the mining colonies."

I tap my fingers against my thigh, considering. Of course he'd run in Alliance routes, he's Kaleidian. As if someone from Kalei would find themselves doing work for Ataxians. And sure, piracy has been seeing quite the surge on the border between Alliance and Unaligned territory.

There's a scar right above his eye that looks pretty fresh and shiny. And there's one more thing I can't deny: we're low on muscle.

My gaze drifts over Davin's broad shoulders. The Kaleidian's built like a battleship, and even trying to appear harmless, he radiates the kind of presence that makes people step aside. The kind of presence I definitely lack.

"Look," I say, crossing my arms. "I've got a tight crew. Me, my pilot, and..." I gesture vaguely toward the station. "Thing is, we run into situations. Situations where looking scary comes in handy."

"And you're thinking I fit that description?"

"You've seen yourself in a mirror lately?" A smile tugs at my lips. "I'm five-four on a good day. My pilot's even shorter. Our muscle's still growing into his scales."

Davin raises an eyebrow. "The Vakutan? Bit young for this line of work."

"That obvious, huh?"

"The way he moves. Still adapting to his adult frame."

I nod. Taluk tries, bless him, but anyone who knows anything about Vakutans can spot his age. He can intimidate a human male, no problem, but anyone else has the experience to clock him as a youth.

"Right now, I have to wave my blaster around more often than I'd like. Gets messy. Having someone who can make people think twice just by standing there? That's worth its weight in credits."

"Assuming I'm interested in your line of work."

"Assuming you're not Alliance looking to bust my operation." I shrug. "We both know your story's got more holes than a meteor-struck hull."

His expression doesn't change, but something shifts in his stance. "That obvious, huh?"

"Cap?" Taluk's voice carries across the pad. He jogs toward us, concern on his face. "Everything okay? Rena sent me to check-"

"Actually," Davin cuts in before Taluk can reach us, "I should come clean. That Alliance cargo story? Not exactly true."

My hand stays near my blaster. "Do tell."

"Ran with the Sirius Syndicate. Big operation, until three weeks ago when Alliance enforcement caught up with us." He runs a hand through his silver hair. "I got out while the rest got caught. Not proud of it, but in this business..." He shrugs. "Sometimes you've got to look after yourself."

The pieces click into place – his military bearing, the fresh scar, the quality clothes. The Sirius bust was all over the feeds. My shoulders relax slightly. "Now that's a story I believe."

Taluk's scales ripple, a sure sign he's agitated. "We don't need another crew member. I handle security just fine."

"Kid, no offense, but you telegraph your moves before you make them." Davin's blue features soften slightly. "I could show you a few things. Military hand-to-hand might serve you better than whatever street fighting you're using."

"I don't need your help." Taluk's hands curl into fists. "And I'm not a kid."

"Didn't mean to suggest-"

"Sure sounded like it."

I step between them before Taluk's pride writes checks his skills can't cash. "Cool it, both of you. Taluk, head back to Rena. Tell her I'll be there in a minute."

"But-"

"Now."

Taluk's jaw works, scales flushing darker red, but he turns and stalks away.

"Strong personality," Davin comments.

"He's good people. Just needs some seasoning." I watch Taluk's retreating back. "And if you're going to join us, you'll need to work with him, not against him."

Davin's expression softens as he watches Taluk disappear into the station. "Kid's got potential. Give him time to warm up to me. Could teach him a thing or two about proper combat techniques."

"Before we get ahead of ourselves..." I lean against my ship's hull, the metal cool through my jacket. "One more thing we need to clear up."

"I'm all ears." He crosses his arms, his blue skin almost luminescent in the station's artificial twilight.

"That every-man-for-himself attitude? It stays in Sirius." I tap my fingers against the hull. "I know Marcus ran that operation like a slave ship. Heard stories about crew members disappearing when jobs went south. So I get why you split."

"You seem well-informed."

"Had a few run-ins with Sirius. Enough to know I want nothing to do with their methods." The memory of a particularly nasty encounter makes my jaw clench. "On my ship, we're like family. We watch each other's backs, share the wins, weather the losses together. No one gets left behind."

"Family." He tests the word like it's foreign to his tongue. "That's a dangerous way to run a criminal enterprise."

"Maybe. But for me it's literal. Born into the business, learned it from my parents before striking out on my own. And I've buried exactly zero crew members since I started operating." I push off from the hull. "Can Marcus say the same?"

His hand drifts to the scar above his eye. "Point taken."

"So here's the deal: you want in, you're all in. No calculated risks where you save your own skin at someone else's expense. We rise together or fall together."

"And if someone betrays that trust?"

"Then they better hope the authorities find them before I do." I meet his gaze steadily. "Family goes both ways, Davin. You protect us, we protect you. Simple as that."

I expect my speech about family values to send him running for the nearest transport, but Davin's lips curve into something almost resembling a smile.

"All in." He extends his hand. "You've got yourself a deal."

Before I can shake on it, Rena's voice cuts through the tension. "Tell me I didn't just hear you hire someone without consulting your pilot first."

"Since when do I need to consult you about hiring decisions?" I turn to find her striding toward us, Taluk trailing behind like a thundercloud.

"Since always. I'm the one who has to calculate weight distributions for takeoff." She stops beside me, giving Davin an appraising once-over. "Though I suppose adding some muscle won't hurt our payload too much."

"Meet our new security officer." I gesture between them. "Davin, this is Rena, best pilot this side of the system. And you've already met Taluk."

Taluk's scales darken. "We don't need-"

"This calls for a celebration," Rena interrupts, clapping her hands together. "And new guy buys the drinks. That's tradition."

"Is it?" Davin asks.

"It is now."

As they head toward the station's bar, I hang back, watching my unlikely crew. Rena's already peppering Davin with questions about his experience, while Taluk sulks three steps behind. The extra muscle will come in handy on Glimner – assuming we make it that far without them killing each other.

My gaze lingers on Davin's broad shoulders, the way his jacket stretches across them as he walks. The view certainly doesn't hurt either.