Page 22 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 22

T he landcrawler rumbles beneath us as we speed across the tundra, leaving Frosthok behind. The icy wind howls outside, but inside the landcrawler, the air is warm and still. Tasha sits beside me, her head resting on my shoulder, her eyes closed. She’s been sleeping on and off for hours, her body still recovering from the trauma of the past few days.

I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, my heart aching at the sight of the bruises marring her delicate skin. The dark purple marks a reminder of how close I came to losing her, of the danger she faced with that Nexus Fist scum, and that slimy bastard, Claws, putting his hands on her, trying to hurt her... Anger boils within me, hot and fierce, but I ruthlessly suppress it. Tasha needs me now. She needs my understanding, my support.

I focus on the horizon, on the icy plains ahead. We still have a long way to go, and I need to stay alert. As the miles slip by, the landscape begins to change.

The endless expanse of white gives way to patches of brown and green, the first signs of life emerging from beneath the snow. Tangled trees dot the horizon, their branches reaching towards the pale lavender sky like skeletal fingers. It’s a harsh, unforgiving land, but it has its own beauty.

Tasha stirs beside me; her eyes rouse open. She blinks, her gaze taking in the passing scenery.

“Where are we?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

“We just crossed into Jrosk territory,” I reply, my hand finding hers, our fingers intertwining. “We should reach the trading outpost by nightfall.”

She nods, sitting up straighter, wincing slightly at the movement. My brow furrows with concern.

“How are you feeling?”

She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Better. Still sore, but better.”

I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I’m so sorry, Tasha. I should have been there. I should have protected you.”

She shakes her head, her fingers tightening around mine. “It’s not your fault, Droilin. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should have,” I insist, the guilt twisting like a knife in my gut. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. And I failed.”

“You didn’t fail,” she says firmly, her gaze intense. “Droilin, you saved me. It was you who found me. You rescued me. You protected me. And you are the only reason I made it through all this. I can never thank you enough for that.”

I swallow hard, her words piercing my heart.

“Tasha, I’ll always come for you. Always.”

She leans in, her lips finding mine in a soft, sweet kiss.

Our journey continues in companionable silence. The landscape changes. As we drive, the signs of the Orion Wars become clearer. The trees are twisted and gnarled; their trunks scarred by laser fire. The ground is pockmarked with craters; the earth churned and broken. Rusted remnants of starforgers, nebula navigator spaceships and their weapons litter the landscape, a silent monument to the violence that once raged here.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Tasha whispers, her eyes wide as she takes in the devastation. “I knew the wars were bad, but this?”

“All of Morcrest was hit hard,” I explain, my voice heavy with the weight of history. “We were right in the middle of it all. The fighting, the destruction... it nearly tore our world apart.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her gaze distant. “And now Garrox is making deals with the same people who caused all this... even if it’s under a shiny new name.”

I nod, my jaw tight. “It’s just that I don’t trust them. I don’t trust any of it. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“You think the sabotage is connected?” she asks, her brows knitted.

“I’m not sure,” I admit, frustration edging my voice. “But it’s too much of a coincidence. First your ship, then the missing luminore, and now these Nexus Fist thugs showing up out of nowhere. Maybe it is all tied together somehow.”

Tasha sits forward, her expression thoughtful. “What about what Throk said in the mine? About the workers stealing the luminore to feed their families?”

I consider her words, turning them over in my mind. “Times are hard, and people are desperate. But even if some workers are skimming off the top, it doesn’t account for the scale of what’s missing. We’re talking about a significant portion of our supply, more than a few ounces here and there. It might not even be connected.”

She nods, her lips pursed. “And the shadowy figure, the feather and the symbol you found in the South Tower, the same ones from the ship. You think it’s some kind of clue?”

“It has to be,” I reply, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. “No one at the South Tower knew anything about it either, other than it had been there a long time. It’s the link, if any, we’re missing.”

“Maybe it’s not just about Morcrest,” Tasha suggests, her voice low. “Maybe it’s bigger than that. The STI deal, the sabotage, all of it. What if it’s connected to something else, something we’re not seeing?”

I glance at her, my eyes narrowing. “Like what?”

She shrugs, her expression uncertain. “I’m not sure. But I have a feeling there’s more to this than just some missing ore and a blown-up ship. Call it a hunch, but I think we’re only scratching the surface here.”

I let out a long breath, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy cloak. She’s right. There’s a bigger picture here, a web of secrets and lies that we’re only just beginning to unravel. I won’t be distracted by conspiracies, my focus has to be on clearing Tasha’s name, on helping Morcrest.

I squeeze her hand, my resolve hardening. Whatever is going on, we will figure it out. Together.

As the twin suns dip towards the horizon, the Jrosk jungles come into view. The lush, verdant green is a stark contrast to the icy wasteland we’ve left behind. The air grows thick and humid, the rich scent of earth and foliage filling our nostrils.

Finally, the trading outpost appears on the horizon, a sprawling collection of tents and makeshift structures nestled in a clearing at the edge of the jungle. As we draw closer, I can make out the bustle of activity, the hum of voices and the clamor of trade.

A group of Jrosk warriors, their golden hair gleaming in the fading light, stand guard at the entrance to the outpost, their eyes scanning our approaching landcrawler. I pull to a stop and roll down the window, meeting the leader of the guard’s eye.

“State your business,” the Jrosk warrior demands, his hand resting on the hilt of his luminore blade.

“I am Droilin, from Clan Frosthok. We are here to complete a luminore survey on behalf of the High Chieftain. Stopping here to trade for supplies.”

The Jrosk’s eyes narrow, his gaze flickering over Tasha and me. Finally, he nods, waving us through.

I roll up the window, letting out a sigh of relief. “That could have gone worse,” I murmur.

Tasha laughs, a musical sound that lifts my spirits. “We made it. That’s what counts.”

I park the landcrawler on the outskirts of the trading outpost, and we climb out, stretching our legs after the long journey.

“I should find my friend Suzor. He makes it his business to know what is going on. If anyone can tell us more, it’s him,” I explain, leading the way through the crowded market.

“How will you find him?” Tasha asks, keeping close.

“He always stays in the same tent,” I say, pointing to a large red structure at the edge of the outpost. “Come on.”

We make our way through the bustling throng of traders, the atmosphere filled with the cries of vendors hawking their wares, the smell of spices and incense thick in the air.

“Droilin, you old bastard! I thought that was you!”

I turn, a grin spreading across my face as I spot Suzor weaving through the crowd towards us. A huge Jrosk, his golden hair flecked with gray, approaches, his arms outstretched.

“Suzor!” I clasp his arm in greeting, pulling him into a quick embrace. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

Suzor returns the hug, then steps back, his eyes falling on Tasha. His brows rise, curiosity clear on his face.

“And who is this lovely creature?” he asks, his tone light, but his gaze sharp.

I place a hand on the small of Tasha’s back, a subtle gesture of protection and possession. “This is Tasha. She’s with me.”

Suzor’s eyes flick to the prison garb Tasha wears, then back to me. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tasha,” he says smoothly, inclining his head. “Any lady friend of Droilin’s is a friend of mine.”

Tasha smiles, but I can feel the tension in her body. My heart aches for her, for all she’s endured.

Suzor, ever the perceptive one, seems to sense the undercurrents. He claps his hands, his expression brightening.

“Come, come. Let’s not stand here in the market. My tent is more comfortable, and the wine is better.” He winks, turns and strides away, beckoning us to follow.

We keep pace with Suzor through the busy market, dodging carts and vendors, until we reach his tent. He holds the flap open, ushering us inside.

The interior is surprisingly spacious, with a large table and several chairs, as well as a comfortable-looking sleeping pallet. A brazier burns in the center, filling the air with a warm, smoky aroma.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Suzor says, gesturing to the table. “I’ll get us some wine.”

Tasha and I take a seat, our shoulders brushing. Even the small contact sends a thrill through me.

Suzor returns with three goblets and a bottle of dark amber liquid. He pours, then raises his glass, his eyes glinting.

“To old friends and new beginnings,” he declares.

We toast, and I take a sip, the spicy, heady flavor washing over my tongue.

“Now, tell me,” Suzor begins, leaning forward, “how can I be of assistance?”

I glance at Tasha, then back to Suzor. “We’re looking for information. Anything you can tell us about what’s been happening in Jrosk territory, with the STI and the luminore mines.”

Suzor takes a long drink, his expression thoughtful. “Well, that’s quite a broad topic. You’ll have to be more specific.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I trust my old friend, but I have to be careful with what I reveal.

“We’ve been having trouble with our own mine. Missing luminore, increased security, that kind of thing,” I say slowly, watching his face for any hint of reaction.

“I see,” Suzor murmurs, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I assume you’ve already spoken to Garrox.”

“It was he who has ordered me to survey all the clan mines. We’re heading to Jrosk’s tomorrow. But he hasn’t been forthcoming with information,” I say, unable to keep the frustration from my voice. “If there’s anything you know, Suzor, anything that can help?”

Suzor takes another sip of his wine, his gaze distant. Finally, he sighs, setting down his goblet.

“All I know is there have been rumors,” he says, his voice low. “There’s been a lot of big shipments coming through the Trade Post, not just the regular wares, but machinery, big loads of it.”

I sit forward, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Machinery? For what?”

Suzor shakes his head, his expression troubled. “Hmm, it’s been directed to Clan Degok. More Corsairains and Seraphim have been about as well, but they’re staying quiet. They are always so secretive.”

“Shit,” I mutter, running a hand over my face.

Tasha touches my shoulder, her hand warm and comforting. “Show him the symbol, Droilin. Suzor, have you seen this before?”

I reach into my pocket, producing the scrap of paper showing the symbol I had sketched for Tasha and hand it to Suzor.

“I’ve noticed this symbol, at the South Tower. The warriors there said it had always been etched on the tower. But I noticed it on a console on our ship while on the Orion Space Station. Seems odd, don’t you think?”

Suzor’s brows furrow in confusion. He takes the paper, his eyes darting over the drawing. “It’s not familiar, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, Suzor. I appreciate it,” I say, before standing up. “We need to get some supplies and we can catch up tomorrow. We’ll come find you.”

Suzor nods, rising to his feet. “I’ll ask around, see what else I can find out for you.” He grasps my arm, a smile tugging at his lips. “And you owe me a rematch at cards.”

I laugh, returning the gesture. “You’re on.”

We leave Suzor’s tent, and I lead the way through the market, only pausing to grab supplies.

Outside, the trading post is still a chaotic hive of activity. The air filled with the shouts of merchants hawking their wares, the calls of animals, and the drone of voices in a dozen different languages.

We make our way into the lively marketplace, weaving between the crowded aisles. I keep a protective hand on Tasha’s elbow, guiding her through the throng of bodies. The heat and humidity are oppressive, the air thick with the smells of smoke and spices.

The stalls are laden with every imaginable wares — gleaming weapons, richly dyed fabrics, strange fruits and spices. Merchants haggle with customers, their voices rising and falling in a constant ebb and flow. There are Morcrestians of all clans, their green skin and tusks marking them as kin, but there are other species too—lithe Vulpexians with their furry faces, burly Bravorians with their scaly hides, and countless others I’ve never seen before.

In the center of the trading post, a few permanent structures rise above the sea of tents. A large, open-air tavern dominates the square, its rough-hewn tables crowded with patrons. The smell of roasting meat and spiced ale wafts from within, making my stomach rumble.

Nearby, a sturdy stone building serves as a makeshift inn, its windows glowing with the warm light of oil lamps. A steady stream of travelers passes in and out, their belongings slung over their shoulders.

I place a hand on the small of Tasha’s back, guiding her through the throng. She stays close, her eyes wide as she takes in the sights and sounds. I can feel the tension in her body, the wariness that comes from being around strangers.

“Stick close,” I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. “This place can get a little rough.”

She nods, pressing herself against my side. I wrap an arm around her, holding her tight.

We make our way to the tavern, the promise of a hot meal and a cold drink too tempting to resist. As we push through the doors, the noise and the heat hit us like a wall. The air is thick with the stench of sweating bodies and stale ale, but there’s an energy here, a vibrancy that’s undeniable.

We find a table in the corner, away from the worst of the crowd. A buxom server saunters over, her hips swaying. She eyes me appreciatively, her gaze lingering on my tusks and my scars.

“What’ll it be, handsome?” she purrs, leaning in close.

I clear my throat, feeling Tasha stiffen beside me. “Two ales and whatever’s hot in the kitchen.”

The server pouts, but nods, sashaying away with an extra swing in her step. I feel Tasha’s eyes on me, a hint of jealousy in her gaze.

“She was very friendly, wasn’t she?” she says, her voice tight.

I shrug, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Jealous, little human?”

She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. Why would I be?”

“Because you want me all to yourself,” I tease, my voice low and husky.

She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing. “Maybe,” she admits.

I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “I’m all yours, Tasha.”

Tasha’s expression softens, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You better mean that.”

“I do,” I reply, my thumb stroking the back of her hand. “I meant what I said last night, Tasha. This thing between us... it’s real. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nods, her eyes shining. “Good. Because neither am I.”

The server returns with our drinks and a steaming platter of roasted meat and vegetables. We dig in, the food a welcome respite after the long hours on the road.

As we eat, my mind churns with the events of the past few days. The sabotage, the missing luminore, the Nexus Fist attack... it’s all connected, but how?

“We need to talk to the Chieftain here, and some of his miners,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “See if they’ve noticed anything strange, any unusual activity or missing shipments.”

Tasha nods, chewing thoughtfully. “And we should ask around about that symbol, see if anyone recognizes it.”

I agree, my gaze sweeping the tavern. There are miners here, their faces weathered and their hands callused from long hours in the tunnels. They huddle together in small groups, their voices low and their eyes wary.

As I watch, a flicker of movement catches my eye. A cloaked figure slips through the crowd, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. They move with a fluid grace, their steps nimble and sure.

I tense, my hand reaching for my blade. But before I can act, the figure disappears into the throng, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

Tasha leans in close, her voice a whisper. “Did you see that?”

I nod, my jaw tight. “Yeah. I did. We need to be careful, Tasha. I don’t like not knowing what is going on, but we can’t let our guard down.”

We finish our meal in silence, the weight of the mystery hanging heavy between us. As we stand to leave, I take Tasha’s hand in mine, our fingers intertwining.

“Come on,” I murmur, leading her towards the door. “Let’s find a place to rest for the night. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

She nods, leaning into me as we step out into the warm night air. The outpost is alive with activity, the sounds of laughter and music floating on the breeze. But beneath the surface, I can feel the undercurrent of tension, the sense that something is brewing just out of sight.

As the suns set, it’s time to find a place to rest for the night. I lead Tasha through the winding paths of the outpost, searching for the lodging area. It’s not hard to find—a neat row of small, wooden cabins, each one just big enough for a bed and a few basic amenities.

I approach the administrator’s building, a slightly larger structure at the head of the row. Inside, a bored-looking Jroskian sits behind a desk, idly scrolling his datapad.

“We need a room for the night,” I say, placing a few credits on the desk.

The Jroskian looks up, his eyes flicking from me to Tasha and back again. If he’s curious about the human in prisoner’s clothes, he doesn’t show it.

“Cabin four is available,” he says, plucking a key from the wall behind him and sliding it across the desk. “Check outs at noon tomorrow.”

I nod my thanks, pocketing the key. Tasha follows me out, and we walk down the line of cabins until we reach number four.

The door creaks as I push it open, revealing a simple, cozy space. A large bed dominates the room, topped with a colorful woven blanket. A small table and chairs sit in the corner, and a bathroom sink rests on a stand by the door.

Tasha enters, taking a seat on the bed. She lets out a sigh, rubbing her tired eyes.

I close the door, locking it behind me.

“It’s perfect,” she breathes, a soft smile on her face.

My heart swells at her obvious delight. After all she’s been through, she deserves a moment of peace, of comfort.

I close the door behind us, shutting out the world beyond. For tonight, at least, we can forget about the dangers that lurk outside, the mysteries that still need solving. Tonight, we can just be together.

“Wait,” Tasha whispers, her hand resting on mine as I move to unlock the chains around her wrists. Her touch sends a shiver down my spine, igniting a hunger I’ve been trying to suppress.

I pause, my gaze locking with hers. There’s a heat in her eyes, a longing that mirrors my own. The air between us crackles with tension, the small cabin suddenly feeling even more intimate.

“Tasha,” I murmur, my voice rough with desire. “Are you sure about this?”

She nods, her fingers trailing up my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I’m sure, Droilin. I want this. I want you.”

Those words, spoken with such certainty, shatter the last of my restraint. I pull her close, my mouth claiming hers in a searing kiss. She responds with equal fervor, her hands tangling in my hair, her body molding to mine.

We stumble towards the bed, a tangle of limbs and heated breaths. I lay her down gently, my eyes roaming over her curves, drinking in the sight of her. Even with the bruises marring her skin, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I take my time undressing her, savoring each inch of skin as it’s revealed. I press kisses to her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. She arches into my touch, a soft moan escapes her lips.

“Droilin,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Please”

I understand her plea, feeling the same urgency coursing through my veins. I shed my own clothes quickly, not wanting to be parted from her for a moment longer than necessary.

As I settle over her, skin to skin, the rest of the world falls away. There’s only Tasha, her warmth, her softness, the way she moves beneath me. I lose myself in her, in the slide of our bodies, the mingling of our breaths.

She cries out as she reaches her peak, my name a prayer on her lips. I follow her over the edge, the pleasure cresting like a wave, washing over me and leaving me spent and sated.

We lie tangled together, sweat-slicked skin cooling in the balmy night air. I hold her close, my arms wrapped protectively around her.

She nestles into my chest, her head resting on my shoulder. I stroke her hair, marveling at the silken strands beneath my fingers.

“That was” I trail off, struggling to find the right words.

“Amazing,” Tasha finishes, a lazy smile curving her lips. “Incredible. Mind-blowing.”

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “All the above.”

We drift off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the worries of the world temporarily forgotten.