Page 1 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 1

T he Chief always works late now, so tonight I made it my mission to argue my case for applying for the Orion Engineering Certification. And once again, the Chief — sorry, Chief Engineer — Kyor to give him his grand title , knocked me back.

The peacefulness of the workshop does nothing to soothe my seething temper. I can’t believe he denied me. Again! Usually, the engineering dock on Orion Outpost buzzes with the hum of machines drowning out all other sounds that make this tiny zone of the Orion Outpost my home in space.

Tonight though, apart from the automated equipment, it’s eerily quiet. Just myself and the Chief working the late shift. With all the distractions going on here, I never snag a chance to speak to him. Activity around the dock has increased, with unfamiliar faces, some much more official looking than others.

Frustration boils within me as I pound the gundrian metal with relentless force, feeling the vibrations reverberate up my forearm with each strike. Wishing it was the Chief’s head... Despite my shift having ended some time ago, I refuse to retreat to my quarters, fueled by irritation. Instead, I channel this pent-up energy into my work. I might as well put my vexation to some use.

Just one. I just need one major solo project, one success. I’ll finally achieve the status of a licensed space station engineer! Fail and I’m stuck here as a junior, or worse, kicking off my training all over again on another station. The idea of going back to the beginning, losing the three rotations I’ve put in here because of that stubborn Draconic oaf of a Chief Engineer, is simply unbearable.

This time, Kyor turned me down because of ‘resource allocation’ and he can’t afford the ‘training days.’ Even though I know my way around a propulsion system better than him by now!

Clang... Clang... CLAAANG!

I’m not sure what’s bothering the Chief, but I won’t let him stop me from reaching my goal of becoming a full-fledged Space Station Engineer. Leaving behind my home—a human agricultural colony on Venturis — is a chance I won’t waste. Witnessing the relentless efforts of my family to make ends meet, enduring a daily laborious grind, a repetitive routine, was nothing short of mind-numbing. As soon as I could afford a ticket to Orion Outpost Space Station, I was on it.

I reached this place five rotations back. Right from day one, they painted this space station as the crown jewel of the Orion system. It’s not just a functional spaceport, it’s a planet in its own right, home to over four million residents from all over the Orion Galaxy. It’s where Stellar Togetherness dignitaries schmooze, sealing interplanetary deals and whatever else alien hotshots do.

The Engineering Dock is the only part of this artificial planet to hold my interest, though. I’ve been itching to plunge into the different mechanical technologies available to me here. The Orion Space Station Engineering Program provided me with a way out of Venturis. Face it Tasha, they could have offered any old mechanical qualification scheme, and you would have jumped planet!

All I want is to appreciate how junk fits together, fix problems or make new tech to help. Because junk is easier to fix than people. I shove that notion down with another clang of the metal strip.

So far, I’ve only worked on boring earth cargo ships, a lifeline to Earth for the few hundred of us on the station. Seen one propulsion system, seen ‘em all! What I really want is to work on are some starforgers or even a nebula navigator. Hopefully, one day develop my own machines someone will marvel at!

CLAAANG!

I hammer the nails along the strip of metal extra hard and cast my eye towards Kyor’s office. His door panel is shut, but I can see shadows of two figures talking through the broken blinds.

At first glance, I’m certain it’s the handsome yet shifty Kyvernian courier who’s been lurking around lately. But the silhouette’s lack of wings dispels my assumption... This courier is always so guarded. His piercing gaze as he sweeps the dock for Kyor hints he has some hidden past. I would even call him handsome if he scowled less, removing his perpetual air of grumpiness. But what else should I expect from an alien whispered to have both a fearsome and possessive reputation? Legends speak of the Kyvernians and their famous mating rituals, that if they don’t bond, they die. Tragic. Well, it’s less a legend and more space station gossip.

It’s a good thing I’m not a Kyvernian, I’d be screwed! Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy all the time...

I catch my daydream and bring my focus back to my work, but my need to know what is going on draws my attention back to Kyor’s office. Perhaps it’s the Corsairian Ambassador that comes around, but that has been less frequent of late, so I scrub that idea.

This time I spot one hulking great body, which must be Kyor. And another form I don’t recognize. It’s nearly the same size as the Chief but not as tall.

Hmm, I wonder who they are or what they are talking to Kyor about? It’s not business hours... I hope it’s not another investigation.

My temper wanes as I remember how much trouble Kyor was in after the incident with the safety pod a few months ago. Some alien prince and a human diplomat were jettisoned into space during a demonstration right here in this very dock. It was all over the Outpost News. Wild theories and accusations of malpractice abounded, leading to weeks of the Planetary Police presence and interviews with everyone involved — especially the Chief since he spearheaded the rescue mission. No charges were pressed, as it was clearly an accident.

Ever since, the Chief has been even more particular about what jobs we take on. He oversees every part of the process. It’s stifling, really.

I continue hammering the metal strip, my thoughts swirling with frustration and a touch of desperation. I want so badly to move forward, to prove my worth, to really make a difference, but Kyor is determined to keep me in my current, useful position.

Weary of trying to straighten this mangled piece of metal but not ready to head to my lonely quarters, I look towards my drawer for abandoned... private projects. My eyes dart across the room, double-checking the door to Kyor’s office is still closed, before I pull out my latest upgrade and take apart the vibrator. The inside is a mess after I used a plasmatic power source last time. It boosted the speed so much it shot out of my hand, buzzing across the shop floor.

I would’ve been mortified if one of the other engineers stumbled upon it, particularly Nixtor or Spenglar, the notorious loudmouths. Now, with some meticulous re-wiring and a sprinkle of luck, I ought to be able to revive it. I must succeed; this iteration will be my finest yet!

But tonight, as I work away my disappointment, I recognize just how lonely it is here on the outpost. I’m surrounded by machines and alien strangers than friends or family. I’m stuck taking out my frustration on a piece of metal. On Venturis, I would at least have my parents to rant to. I miss them even though it was my choice to leave. I’m grateful they never tried to hold me back. But I can’t lie, I kind of hoped I would find someone of my own who would care for me. At least machines can be fixed, unlike my love life!

So here in the workshop, the familiar noises and routines bring me a semblance of contentment as I work on fixing and improving my favorite toy.

Suddenly, the door to Kyor’s office whooshes open. The noise jolting me out of my thoughts... I fumble the vibrator. It flies out of my hands; the speed is too fast, and the sound is too loud in the quiet hum of the workshop.

I try to reach it, but it’s already hit the ground, buzzing loudly across the floor. As I rush to grab the damn vibrator, a long shadow makes me stop in my tracks.

I freeze, watching as a tall, muscular green figure appears in the doorway, his eyes trained on the buzzing object that is hurtling closer to their feet. The stranger’s eyes shift from the vibrator to me, a smirk spreading across their face. It’s an orc!

Oh, shit... And he is hot!

He’s wearing the Morcrestian Guard uniform. Glad I attempted to learn those planetary symbols after all. I swallow nervously as the guard leans down, his long muscular forearm straining against the vibrating member. His fingers run over the ridges and curves as he examines the device. He looks at me and smiles, revealing more of his impressive tusks. Oh, fuck. My heart... and core flutter because this isn’t mortifying enough.

“This is an unusual power tool. How does it work?” He has a deep voice, which makes my heart beat faster.

“Ummm,”

Before I can gain use of my mouth, Kyor steps into view, his bulky Draconic frame easily filling the doorway. He’s an imposing male, with large scales that shimmer in shades of green and gold. But he’s not alone.

A second figure follows behind him, out of the office. A ripple of surprise trickles down my spine — both strangers are Morcrestians, a sight unheard of at the Orion Outpost. They look like orcs, courtesy of the tusks, muscular build, and green skin that echo our old Earth stories.

I look towards the orc guard and catch his eye as he quickly switches the vibrator off and pockets it, giving me a sly wink. My cheeks flush with a warmth which spreads across my face.

“Tasha, your shift ended two hours ago.” Kyor rumbles.

“I just had a couple things to finish, Chief.” Knots form in my stomach as I pray he doesn’t ask me to divulge what I’m working on.

Kyor sighs and turns back towards his orc guests, murmuring at his office door. I can’t make out enough of what is going on, and I’m keen to remove myself from their gaze, so I dash back to my workstation. My vibrator project might be a bust, but I have plenty of other projects. I drop my attention back to the bits of materials strewn across my workbench and I pray I never see these orc strangers again.

A rogue piece of wire in a busted holocom distracts me so completely that I almost fail to notice anyone approaching until it’s too late. When I finally look up, my hammer poised mid-air, Kyor is flanked on either side by the two orcs, and they are hovering beside my workbench.

The new orc is slightly taller and broader, with gleaming gold tusks. His face looks lined from perpetual scowling in a uniform which would not be out of place with the Stellar Togetherness dignitaries.

Now I’m able to see my orc guard up close. I see he is strikingly different. Both orcs are tall, but where Gold Tusks is bulky, the guard exudes a lean muscularity, carrying himself with a refined posture. Strands of pure white hair have escaped his long braid, cascading around his face, framing a pair of piercing brown eyes. He’s not what I expected from what I’d heard of Morcrestians, and he’s looking at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

As he smiles at me, another flush of warmth spreads across my cheeks, betraying the heat rising between my thighs once more. I try to avert my eyes and focus on Kyor.

“Tasha, we have a situation,” he grunts, bringing my focus back. “This is Ambassador Garrox of Morcrest,” he gestures towards Gold Tusks, who eyes me with a suspicious expression, “and his personal guard, Droilin.”

The sexy white-haired orc gives me a sexy smirk and his gaze lingers just a second longer than necessary. Have I thought he’s sexy enough? Come on Tasha!

I look at the Chief, my heart pounding. Could this be my opportunity for a project? Dare I even hope for a solo one to complete the certification?

“An issue has arisen with their ship,” Kyor continues. “It’s an old model, Morcrest tech, not something we’re used to handling here. We have a full docket with the STI Symposium, and our team is stretched thin.”

Excitement floods through me as I consider the challenge. A vision of an Orion Engineering graduation ceremony flashes before my eyes. I don’t know if such a grand event even exists but, I can’t afford to miss this opportunity.

“I can fix it,” I blurt out too quickly.

Garrox frowns.

“I’m needed elsewhere so it would have to be you,” Kyor says gruffly, casting an unsure glance at the orcs, “I’m not letting Spenglar or Nixtor anywhere near this. They’d just blow the damn thing up.”

I flash my most confident smile, but the lack of reaction from Garrox tells me it hasn’t made the impression I hoped for.

“Are you even qualified? You look very... young,” he demands.

My gaze shifts to Kyor, engrossed in examining a screw. The thought of admitting my lack of qualification to Ambassador Garrox sends a sour note to my gut; rejection is not an option. This is my chance! For once, Kyor won’t be hovering over me and I can prove myself, show them I’m good enough. That I can work alone. That I’m an excellent engineer who needs a chance to get that stupid bit of paper that will let me work on any ship I want.

“I know what I’m doing.”

Droilin grins at my comment. Garrox snorts clearly, not impressed as his brows furrow at me.

Kyor pats me hard on the shoulder. “Tasha is one of our rising stars. Your ship is in safe hands.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Garrox tilts his head, studying me. “She seems eager,” he observes. Droilin nods in agreement.

A tense quiet settles over us. Kyor’s eyes narrow slightly, a hint of unease flashing across his face, but it’s Droilin who speaks up.

“We would be happy to have your help,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

Kyor looks at me, his gaze relieved. I can see his brow relax. He claps, a heavy sound. “Great!” he exclaims. “You’re on it. But Tasha, this is a big job. Don’t fuck it up.”

I nod, my pulse racing. “Yes, sir.” I say, more confidently than I feel.

Kyor mutters something under his breath and waves his hand about, but he doesn’t say no. Instead, he gives me a stern look. “Garrox is attending the STI Symposium and will be back here in two days. You need to have the ship fixed by then.”

Kyor’s worn-out look suggests he’s uneasy dealing with the Stellar Togetherness Initiative dignitaries. But I can’t afford to miss out on this chance. While Garrox has Droilin explain the issues, he and Kyor step aside for a private chat.

A moment passes before Droilin takes a step forward, pulling a small device from his pocket and I freeze as it whirs to life. I can’t help the mortified expression on my face. My head whips around to Kyor and Garrox, who are still deep in conversation. Please don’t let them notice!

Droilin must see the panic on my face as he gives me a soft smile, switching the vibrator off and placing it on the workbench beside us.

“Your machine has impressive... modifications.” His deep voice rumbles, making me hot all over. He’s standing so close my knees feel weak.

“I uh” I’m not sure what to say, so I just mumble.

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he gives me a playful wink before his expression shifts to one of business.

“I want you to look at this.” He reaches into his other pocket and activates the holographic display. A 3D model of a Morcrestian ship appears in the air between us. He stands right beside me. When our arms brush, I’m a little flustered as I take in the details, trying to commit them to memory.

I’m trying to focus on the engine, the specs, the model number. But it’s difficult with Droilin’s muscled arm hovering close to mine. With him standing so near to me. He’s taller than I am, and his frame is big, broad shoulders, muscular arms. I can smell his cologne, or is that just him? It’s musky and masculine. I want to bury my face in his chest and breathe him in.

“So, what’s the problem?” I ask, clearing my throat.

“The propulsion system,” Droilin begins, his voice measured, “is the main issue. It’s not synchronizing properly with the navigational controls.”

I watch as he points at the holographic ship, highlighting the areas he’s talking about. His fingers move with an assured grace, a stark contrast to the brutish image most humans have of orcs, or rather, Morcrestians .

“Okay,” I nod, committing the details to memory. “So, you need me to fix it.”

“We do,” he says, his voice thick and gravelly. It sounds like he is amused, and I chastise myself for speaking the obvious. Get it together Tasha!

“Well, I can do it.” I state in the most businesslike way I can, trying to regain some of my composure.

He smiles sincerely at me, his tusks gleaming in the artificial light.

“Now, the energy source,” he continues, “It’s not a type you’ll be familiar with here. It’s old, very old and I think it is exhausted. We could never find it again.”

I study the hologram, trying to picture the layout of the ship in my mind. It’s an older model, definitely. I can’t say it looks familiar, but if I can get on board and inspect the engine, I’m sure I can figure it out.

I nod as I mentally work through potential solutions. Kyor’s eyes are on me, watching my reaction closely from the sidelines. This is my chance to prove that I’m more than an assistant; I’m an engineer.

“Understood,” I say, meeting Droilin’s gaze once again as he nods his approval.

“Alright then,” he says, his voice low and gravely.

Garrox and Kyor rejoin us, their towering figures casting imposing shadows, yet I refuse to let intimidation creep in. Instead, a surge of confidence floods through me. I can do this.

Garrox speaks up, “Droilin has explained the issues to you, so we will leave you to get on with it,” he says, his voice polite and more than a little cold.

He holds out his hand, and I take it, feeling the strength in his grip as he meets my eyes and says,

“You’ll have the ship back, fully operational, to go before the end of the symposium in two days’ time. No later.”

I nod, meeting his steely gaze. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I reply in my most professional tone, and despite Garrox’s vaguely threatening demeanor, I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

“Two days. No later.” Garrox repeats, his voice firm.

Kyor mutters something under his breath, his eyes shifting between the Morcrestians and me with a hint of unease.

The presence of orcs on the space station is unusual. They aren’t known for their love of technology, preferring a more traditional way of life. That they’ve come to us for help is curious. But one thing’s clear, they need me. This is my chance to prove myself.

As they walk away, I steal a glance at Droilin. His athletic form a striking contrast to the sleek machines of the dock. And his white hair... it’s unusual for someone who doesn’t look much older than me, and I kind of like it. He’s attractive, in an alien way...

I can’t believe I fancy an orc!

I’ve been on the Orion Outpost for five rotations and this is the first time I have had a tingle of excitement for someone. Sighing, I try to shake the notion from my mind. This isn’t the time for fantasies. I have a job to do. A job that will prove to everyone, including the Chief, that I am more than an assistant. I am an engineer, and I am ready for the challenge.