Page 2 of Alokar (The Alliance Rescue #2)

Ewok

I was drowning in love.

Completely, hopelessly, helplessly submerged in an universe of adoration for this tiny, perfect creature.

My baby sister, Jordan.

She was a living masterpiece—delicate human features wrapped in the softest ivory pelt that shimmered like moonbeams. Her eyes were twin stars, swirling with the distinctive blue and gold that revealed her Vaktaire heritage.

The moment my human mother Daisy placed this precious bundle in my arms, something fundamental shifted in the very core of my being.

Love crashed over me like a tidal wave—not the gentle affection I held for my adopted parents, Daisy and Daicon, or the warm kinship I shared with my adopted brother George.

Not even the familial blood that connected me to my sister, Vienda, her mate, Talamus, and their daughter, Irsay felt this strong.

This was something primal, fierce, and all-consuming.

I gave Jordan my vow. I would be her shield against darkness, her sword against every threat. Nothing in this universe or any other would ever harm her while breath remained in my body.

Then the pain started.

At first, I dismissed it as soreness from the daily training sessions with my dad, the ache of muscles pushed to their limits. I dreamed of becoming a warrior just like him, and pain was simply the price of strength.

It didn’t take me long to realize this was different. The pain deepened, seeping into my muscles like acid, twisting my bones until each movement felt like glass grinding between my joints. Soon, I couldn’t walk without dragging my feet, a pathetic shadow of the warrior I aspired to be.

Hakkar and his human mate, Dr. Agnes, were excellent healers—their skilled hands had safely delivered my baby sister into this world.

Yet despite their arsenal of advanced scans and countless tests, the source of my torment remained a maddening mystery.

While the Bardaga possessed a Garoot Healer capable of curing virtually any ailment, Hakkar and Agnes hesitated to use it without understanding what disease consumed me from within.

My adopted brother George was a Garoot—a species with healing knowledge woven into the very fabric of their DNA.

When word reached my parents that the Historia , the vessel where he worked training others, had traveled within range of the Bardaga , they didn’t hesitate.

They commandeered a shuttle and rushed me to his side.

My brother was a truly brilliant healer.

According to George, I suffered from a condition called kuyaruka .

A rapid, violent puberty that afflicted my kind—the Kerzak.

Left unchecked, the hormonal storm could flood a male’s bloodstream with a toxic surge of what my mother called testosterone, transforming him into something cruel and savage, a monster.

Thankfully, my brother was able to ease me through the transformation, keeping my mind and emotions calm as my body underwent the change.

And how I changed!

A week ago, I had been a youngling whose head barely grazed my Vaktaire father’s chest. Now I towered above him like a mountain over foothills, my shadow swallowing his entirely.

I stood taller than every soul aboard the Historia —save perhaps Captain Adtovar, but he was an augment, artificially enhanced beyond natural limits.

I knew I was big, but I hadn’t truly grasped the magnitude of my transformation until Duke Ako’s gaze found me. Disbelief masked his pale features, and his mouth fell open as if the air had been stolen from his lungs.

“Ewok?” The name escaped his lips as barely more than a whisper, tinged with wonder and uncertainty.

I felt the warmth of my parents flanking me, their presence as always loving and supportive, my baby sister cooing in my mother’s arms.

“Hello, Duke Ako.” My voice had deepened considerably, carrying a new resonance that seemed to vibrate through the great hall. I genuinely respected the Duke. His fairness and kindness were legendary, and his devotion to his human mate mirrored the love I witnessed daily between my parents.

He blinked rapidly, his stunned gaze darting between my towering form and my parents as if seeking confirmation of an impossible truth. “How... when....”

“It is the kuyaruka,” George announced, his clinical tone cutting through the tension as he moved through the crowd.

He took his place at my side with quiet confidence.

“Like many apex predator species, Kerzak experience accelerated puberty—a biological metamorphosis that is swift and painful. However, I was able to regulate the chemical changes coursing through my brother’s system, preventing the hormonal overload that can transform Kerzak males into creatures of violence and unpredictable rage. ”

“Thankfully,” my mother breathed the word like a prayer, her relief palpable.

“Ewok.” Duke Ako shook his head slowly, a laugh of amazement bubbling up from his chest. “Ewok.” He descended from the dais with measured steps, his movements deliberate and respectful.

When he took my hand in both of his, I felt the tremor of awe that ran through him.

He had to crane his neck back to meet my gaze—a gesture that still felt surreal to me.

His deep sapphire eyes studied me with the intensity of someone trying to reconcile memory with reality. Finally, he nodded. “And you claim the sacred right of vengeance for Ambassador Yaard.”

“He murdered my birth parents.” The words carried weight.

Duke Ako knew the blood-soaked tale well.

How my birth parents, the Kerzak king and queen, Ardika Vey and Paluma Oy, traveled to a crucial meeting with the Alliance Council when disaster struck.

Ambassador Yaard orchestrated their murder, depositing my sister on a desolate world to mature in isolation to the point he could claim her as mate and seize the throne through our bloodline.

While I had been too young to retain memories of that night, I was apparently old enough for Yaard to cast me into the depths of a Gilese mining moon, where I would have rotted away if not for the intervention of my adoptive parents.

“I remember,” Ako murmured, his eyes flashing with righteous fury. As if sensing the storm of emotion building within him, Duchess Helene glided to his side, her delicate hand laying upon his arm in a gesture of comfort.

“Are you certain you are ready?” Duke Ako pressed, his grip on my hand tightening substantially—a test of strength, perhaps?

I returned the grip, and a faint grimace flashed over his features, quickly replaced by a smile.

“The last time I saw you—merely months ago—you were still a youngling barely reaching my shoulder. You have not worn this new form for long.”

“No,” I admitted. “But I am fully grown now, possessing the strength that flows through every Kerzak of my stature. More importantly, I have been training for months under War Chief Daicon himself. I am confident in my abilities as a warrior.”

“As am I,” my father added, his massive hand settling on my shoulder. When I glanced at him, the gold swimming in the cerulean depths of his eyes blazed with unmistakable pride.

It was my mother’s expression that suggested she might cheerfully throttle us both.

“It is imperative that we learn of Yaard’s fate.” The Alliance Prime, leader of the known universe, descended the dais. The golden gaze that marked her as a Vaktaire, like my father, swept over me, weighing and measuring every inch of my transformed frame. “We cannot leave this to chance.”

“I understand, my lady,” I replied, offering her a curt, respectful nod. “I will bring back Yaard’s head. Whether his death was accomplished as the Duke described, or by my own hand, he will be dead and I will return with proof,” I vowed with utter conviction.

The Prime’s gaze slithered to my father. “You are confident of his skill?”

“Trained by my own hand, Lady Prime.” My father’s voice resonated with authority and pride. “He holds a blade as well as I—perhaps better.”

I glanced between my parents, reading the storm brewing in the space between them.

While my father radiated pride, my mother seethed, her anger crackling through the air like lightning seeking a target.

The murderous glare she kept shooting my father could have melted durasteel.

It made me wonder if she would banish him to sleep on the sofa, as she sometimes threatened to do.

I never understood the threat. The sofa in our quarters aboard the Bardaga was wickedly comfortable. I had napped there often.

“Ewok is newly grown,” my brother interjected, and a fracture of worry shot through me at his words. I knew George loved me, but I also knew he was a healer and scientist first—nothing that passed his lips would ever betray that truth. I shouldn’t have worried.

“The hormones still surge through his blood,” George continued, his face a mask of professionalism, though warmth flickered in his eyes.

“Unlike most Kerzak who welcome the influx of savagery, when the kuyaruka is managed properly, the hormones create an influx of strength, not wildness. For some time to come, Ewok will possess a physical strength greater than most Kerzak.”

From the withering glare my mother shot him, I wondered if she might make George join my father on the sofa.

“And you can pilot a shuttle?” Duke Ako’s question carried the weight of assumption, but I nodded with confidence. “You will need to take the same cloaked vessel I used to reach Earth’s surface.”

“Yes, Duke Ako.” Between recent journeys from the Bardaga to my birth world of Kerzak, I had become more than competent at the controls.

The Duke pursed his lips thoughtfully, his gaze swinging to the Alliance Prime and holding, until she granted him a slow, deliberate nod. Excitement bubbled up within me so violently that I nearly released a triumphant roar.

“Earth is a different realm entirely,” Ako warned, turning back to me. “To move among them without detection or causing fear, you will need to wear a cuddwisg device and be knowledgeable of their customs and social intricacies.”

“I have long treasured stories of Earth told by my mother,” I replied, warmth flooding my voice. Her stories of Christmas and Thanksgiving were my favorites.

“Maddie can craft you some Earth-style clothing,” Ako continued, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “The jeans and hiking boots are surprisingly comfortable.”

I had no idea what he meant by jeans or hiking boots , but from the way his mate’s laughter rippled through the air, I suspected they were at least amusing in some way.

“Yes, Duke.” I would wear whatever garments he deemed necessary, though if given the choice, I would remain clad in the supple leather pants and vest favored by Vaktaire warriors—clothing that moved like a second skin and bore the proud marks of my training.

“No!”

My mother’s voice erupted like a thunderclap, raw and trembling with such force that it seemed to shatter the very air around us.

Every head in the chamber snapped toward her, conversations dying mid-syllable.

What I first mistook for fury revealed itself as something far more devastating.

The shimmer of unshed tears transformed her eyes into pools of liquid starlight.

“Mom....”

“I don’t want you to go.” The words tore from her throat.

She whirled on Duke Ako with the ferocity of a cornered animal, her free hand—the one not cradling my baby sister—slicing through the air in desperate, wild gestures.

“There are dozens... hundreds of warriors aboard with decades more experience than Ewok. And we all know what a treacherous, murderous bastard Yaard is. I don’t want him to go. ”

The anguish radiating from her small frame hit me like a physical blow, waves of maternal terror and love crashing over me until I could barely breathe. I sank to one knee, bringing my towering form down to her eye level—a gesture that somehow made the vast dining hall feel intimate, sacred.

My massive hands enveloped her wildly gesturing one, stilling its frantic dance.

“Mom, I know you worry about me... and I love you beyond measure for that.” My voice gentled to barely above a whisper, each word carefully chosen.

“But before the gods and goddess blessed me by bringing you and Dad into my life, I had another family.” The words caught in my throat like thorns.

“Another family that was stolen from me because of Yaard. It is my sacred right—my burden—to avenge that loss.”

Daicon moved with the silent grace of a shadow, positioning himself behind my mother.

His hand settled on her shoulder, and when their eyes met, he offered her a slow, deliberate nod.

A nod weighted with the absolute confidence and pride he had for me.

It meant everything—more than any formal blessing or royal decree.

Jordan chose that moment to wave a chubby fist through the air.

Whether she was rallying to support my mission or protesting it with infant indignation, I couldn’t tell—but the sight was so achingly adorable it nearly undid me.

I extended my hands, and the precious little female practically launched herself into my embrace, her delighted coos filling the silence.

“I need you to understand something,” I murmured, gently bouncing Jordan until her laughter bubbled, bright and effervescent. “I’m not doing this solely for vengeance. I’m doing this so my family—all of you—can exist in a universe finally cleansed of a monster like Yaard.”

My mother watched me cradling my baby sister, tears carving rivers down her cheeks.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” she demanded, her voice breaking on each word.

She wrapped her tiny arms around both Jordan and me in an embrace that somehow felt strong enough to encompass the universe.

“Promise me you’ll come back to us whole. ”

“Of course,” I vowed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of home and safety.

She was such a tiny human, yet she possessed the bravest, largest, most luminous soul I’d ever encountered.

“I will be here to witness Jordan’s first word. .. which will undoubtedly be Ewok .”

“Absolutely not,” Daicon snorted, though his eyes danced with mirth. “Her first word will be Dada —as is proper and natural.”

George cleared his throat. “Actually, based on my extensive study of human vocal development and the relative ease of pronunciation, her first utterance will most likely be George .”

My mother’s laughter burst forth like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, tears still streaming down her face as she pulled me into another embrace that somehow felt like both goodbye and welcome home.