Page 38 of All You Need is Alien Love (Tentacular Tales #4)

fighting our comrades. The fighting is close-quarter and fast enough to give me whiplash, so much so that our Slime-O-Matic Paralyticators are too dangerous to use here. The risk of hitting one of our own with friendly fire is far too high.

We pocket the weapons and Nirblob quickly hands me the supersecret weapon he designed for me to go up against our fiercest opponents—the hostile Vroknu invaders.

A great warrior I am not. Sure, I kicked Fabian’s ass, but he’s no hulking Vroknu killing machine trained in battle since his youth.

The forces we’re up against are precisely that.

We all agreed I didn’t stand a chance against them with an ordinary weapon.

I needed something for close combat that could give me an edge when I’m not an epic sword master.

Thus was born the Lightsaber Dong of Doom 2.0.

I hold my slim, but lengthy, phallic-shaped weapon aloft by its lightsaber-inspired hilt. Nirblob salutes me with his.

“Ready, amigo?” I ask.

He nods his enormous bobble head, and with a whooping battle cry, we storm into the fray, our weapons raised and ready to kick ass. Because we’re super cool badasses, and we’ve watched a lot of epic action movies.

I make a well-timed jab at the Vroknu attacking Lu-Ren. His eyes widen at the metal phallus coming at his face and that’s when I hit the button on the hilt of my weapon.

And give him a Groxil slime facial.

He freezes and falls to the ground with a loud thud. Down for the count.

I stroke my weapon proudly. “Nice work, partner.”

Lu-Ren hurries to join us, panting from their battle. They use a lean arm to wipe sweat from their forehead while the other maintains its hold on a deadly extendible baton with scary-looking blades at both ends.

“Good timing, River. That guy was proving difficult for me to handle by myself.”

“My pleasure. Let’s go help the others.”

I glance across the space to where Ellie, Maddox, and a small team of Alliance personnel hold their own against a group of mercenaries from another species I’m unfamiliar with.

They’re short and squat with sharp, beaked noses and long, dwarf-like beards made out of feathers instead of hair.

They look kind of cool, but they picked the wrong side in this battle, so I don’t spare them another glance.

Zamir and the other Vroknu refugees are engaged in intense combat against their own kind, and we hurry in their direction to help them.

The invaders appear to be led by a huge older Vroknu that I somehow immediately know has to be Zamir and Zion’s father.

His skin is a dark steel-gray hue, and he’s easily as big as Zamir, if not bigger.

He’s also fighting with a deadly-looking sword that reminds me of a Klingon’s bat’leth .

“Gene Roddenberry got so many things right,” I whisper to myself. “He had to have actually visited outer space.”

All of a sudden, Lu-Ren spies an opportunity and rushes into the battle to help Zion, who’s been surrounded by attackers.

Nirblob and I soon find ourselves facing two enormous Vroknu warriors of our own. I gulp as they stampede in our direction, both so big they look like they could squash us.

Nirblob reacts faster than I do, lashing out with his weapon and spraying a beautiful arc of Groxil slime at them. He successfully hits one in the face, but the other manages to duck just in time.

Our first opponent goes down like a rookie boxer taking a ruthless uppercut in his first match, frozen with his weapon in his hand.

There’s no time to celebrate because the second one is on us in a heartbeat.

I have to fend off the enormous blade that comes arcing at my head.

My Lightsaber Dong of Doom 2.0 is made of a metal Nirblob told me is sturdier than titanium, so I’m able to block the blow, but the sheer power behind it sends pain shooting up my forearm all the way to my shoulder.

That motherfucker is trying to lop my head off!

This warrior is older and, based on the patchwork of scars on his face and arms, more battle-hardened.

He’s not as hasty as his friend was and clearly a lot more dangerous. So fast I can barely see it, he manages to send Nirblob’s weapon flying then pivots and swings his sword right at my friend. Thankfully, Nirblob manages to evade the blade just barely.

Alas, his cloak does not.

I hear a loud ripping noise as the Vroknu weapon tears through Nirblob’s beloved Vardox-inspired garment.

“Noooooo!” His sorrowful wail echoes throughout the hangar.

The Vroknu is distracted for a split-second, and I take the chance to use one of the moves that Zamir taught me, performing a running slide on my knees that puts me right in place to swing upward and slam my Lightsaber Dong of Doom 2.0 straight into his unprotected crotch.

It’s his turn to shriek.

I press the button and he gets a healthy spray of Groxil slime, freezing him where he’s crouched and covering his injured balls.

“Serves you right, fucker.”

I hurry to where Nirblob’s fallen to the ground, cradling his ruined garment, tears rolling down his cheeks. “My precious cloak,” he whimpers.

I lay my hand on his shoulder gently. “By Grabthar’s hammer, by the suns of Worvan, you shall be avenged!”

I’ve always wanted to say that line and there has never been a more perfect moment than right now.

Nirblob sniffles and gazes at the warrior I took out a moment ago. “I believe you have already avenged me, amigo.”

“Oh, yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

“What is Grabthar’s hammer?”

My eyes dart around us, and I quickly help him back to his feet. “I’ll explain later. It involves a sci-fi comedy classic known as Galaxy Quest . For now, though, let’s keep kicking ass and taking names.”

One by one, we’re systematically taking down our opponents. Our secret weapons are proving quite handy. I also appreciate the fact that we’re taking out these homophobic assholes with phallic weapons that jizz them with Groxil slime. That’s what I call motherfucking karma.

A few hundred yards away, I spy Zamir fighting his father. The two men appear evenly matched as their weapons clash together so hard they nearly set off sparks.

“You’re a disgrace to your kind. From this moment, you’re no longer my son.” The older Vroknu’s words reverberate throughout the hangar and my heart clenches for Zamir.

But the man himself remains focused and calm. “I cut ties with you long ago. Only Zion is my family now.”

That seems to enrage his father and their fight turns even more vicious.

However, around them it’s evident the tide has turned and our side has a clear advantage now that we’ve incapacitated so many among the invading force. Groxil slime for the win!

Zion’s father seems to recognize the shifting situation as well and shouts at one of his subordinates, “Where are our reinforcements?”

I follow the sound and home in on him and one of his men, who taps at an earpiece, a frustrated look on his face. “I can’t reach them, sir. None of my communications are going through.”

I grin. Yep, the Alliance is going to owe Nirblob big time when all of this is over.

Meanwhile, Zion and Lu-Ren are holding their own until a Vroknu opponent manages to land a savage slash to the big blue alien’s ribs.

Letting out a cry of pain, Zion clutches the gash and falls to the ground, blood dripping from the wound, while Lu-Ren takes on his attacker with fierce determination.

That’s when Zamir’s focused attention on fighting his father is distracted by his brother’s cry of pain.

Seeing his opportunity, Zamir’s father swings his weapon at his son.

I try to race toward them but it’s like I’m moving in quicksand.

It’s clear Zamir’s father has given up on kidnapping him. I can tell with one glance the trajectory of his motion is designed to kill.

“Look out!” I scream, but I’m too far away to help, and I can tell Zamir’s brief moment of distraction over his brother is going to prove fatal.

Then there’s a sudden flash of lavender skin and silver hair as Wilder appears out of nowhere like an avenging angel to shove Zamir out of the way.

But he doesn’t have the time to avoid the deadly blade himself.

It pierces Wilder’s abdomen and embeds itself with a sickening thunk. To my amazement, he grins at his now weaponless opponent, blood trickling from his lips and down his chin. With what I can only imagine is adrenaline-fueled strength, he lashes out with the blade in his hand.

And smoothly severs his opponent’s head in one powerful slash.

Blood sprays everywhere, like something out of an Evil Dead horror movie, and everyone watches in frozen stupefaction as the mighty Vroknu warrior’s head falls to the floor with an echoing splat.

I feel my gorge rise, and I try not to hurl.

Sure, I’ve already seen a decapitation once, thanks to my mom, but it evidently isn’t easier the second time around. It’s so surreal that I’m still having a bit of trouble processing what just happened.

In an instant, time seems to return to normal speed for all of us, except Wilder. He moves in a kind of slow motion as his weapon slips from his hand and he falls to his knees, coughing a wet stream of blood.

Roxy screams.

Wilder’s eyelids flutter but before he can fall forward, Zamir’s there, carefully taking him in his big arms.

Lu-Ren, Ellie, Maddox, and Aiden recover first and quickly take down the stunned Vroknu attackers, who still haven’t fully comprehended that their leader is now dead.

In moments, it’s just us as we all crowd around Zamir. Wilder lies in his arms, his lavender skin unnaturally pale, and blood soaking his shirt. From across the hangar, Roxy tries to rush to her brother’s side, but Lu-Ren holds her back.

I stare at Zamir, shocked to see the normally stoic big man shaking uncontrollably, tears rolling down his cheeks as he strokes Wilder’s silver hair. After everything I’ve heard and witnessed in my time at the Alliance, I always suspected Zamir still loved the man who broke his heart.

Now, however, I have no doubt.