Page 10 of Chieftain (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #1)
Khaion
It felt right.
Not the hot, salty wetness flowing down her cheeks. I didn't like that. I knew they were called tears, a way the humans—especially human women—expressed strong emotion. I wished never to see tears on her beautiful face again.
What felt right was how she cuddled against me, letting me comfort her with foray after foray of my fingers into her thick mass of red curls. Comforting her felt right. Protecting her felt right. Holding her against my body felt the most right of all.
I’d rescued hundreds of humans—seen my share of beautiful females throughout the charted galaxy.
None compared to her.
Emmy.
Even her name was beautiful, feeling soft and sweet on my tongue.
She was tiny in my arms, delicate but with pronounced curves of breasts and hips.
Her face was pale and perfectly oval with a smattering of tiny brown dots that humans called freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Eyes the deep green color of the sea on my home planet gazed at me with such trust and hope. I would not let her down.
I would find her friends no matter what the cost.
Above us, the blackness of space yawned wide, a visual reminder of the impossibility of the task. But I had done the impossible before.
The memory was as raw and fresh as the day itself.
My home planet was lush with vegetation and life.
Our oceans were a deep clear green flowing endlessly under a pale purple sky.
Khiak, my older brother, loved the seas.
He loved the challenge of hunting the creatures that made the green depths their home.
Khiak was older than me, he was already into his adult rotation when I was born, and while our father was off on a battle cruiser, he was the only father I knew.
I was still a youngling, all gangly and uncoordinated, just beginning my warrior training and still unable to hold half my weight for more than a minute.
It was hot that late summer day when he and I stole away to the seaside to catch our mother a batch of fleckings—tiny, swift swimmers whose sweet flesh melted on your tongue.
We'd just cast our nets when the waters pulled away from the sand, as though the sea feared the beast.
A Tweller.
Massive. Ten times the size of the pod I lay in, with a dozen appendages lined with suction cups and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
The beast was on me before I had time to run.
Khiak put himself between me and the beast. My brother's skill as a warrior was unmatched by those in our village, but to the Tweller, he was just a toy.
Still, he battled to protect me and somehow managed to drive the creature back into the sea—losing his leg in the process.
I managed to cauterize the wound and slow the bleeding, but the skiff we used to travel was damaged in the battle. Khiak was twice my weight, but there was no other option. Hoisting my brother upon my back, I began to walk.
It was one hundred Earth miles from my village to the sea, and we only stopped to rest twice when Khaik's screams of pain became too great. It took four days to reach the village. A village where my brother still lived.
I would give all I had to return in time and keep my brother from the pain he suffered. Even so, those four days when I was small and scared, praying to Valana with every step to have the strength to save Khiak taught me that with enough determination, nothing is impossible.
It was my greatest lesson.
The pod gave an abrupt lurch, drawing a frightened squeak from the female in my arms. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with the same wetness that clung to her cheeks.
"Do not be alarmed, tiny human. It is only the tractor beam of my vessel bringing us on board." I loosened my grip on her waist so she could raise her head and glance around.
Emmy wiped her face with the back of her hands, her gaze settling on my ship a few hundred meters away. Her green eyes widened considerably, along with the drop of her jaw.
“That’s your ship?” Emy chirped, and she squirmed to get a better look at my battle cruiser's sleek gray and white hull. "It's huge—like five times the size of Sanford Stadium."
"Sanford Stadium?" It was a concept I didn't remember from my Earth studies.
“A really, really big building," Emmy explained and added. "It didn't take them long to find us?"
Pride at my ship and crew had me squaring my shoulders as much as possible in the small space. “My ship and crew are the best in the galaxy.”
“It looks much bigger than the Toadwick ship.”
“Trogvyk?”
“Yeah, those guys.”
“The Bardaga is larger than any slaver ship," I assured her.
"Then why didn't you just blow those cat-aliens out of the sky when they pulled up alongside Earth before they started snatching people?" Her face held a touch of aggravation. It made the faint lines at the corners of her eyes deepen.
“Before today, did you know my kind existed?”
Her gaze widened, mouth opening and closing before she finally uttered a defeated, "No. Some humans believe in aliens, but most of us consider them lunatics." Her eyes sparked with defiance. "Why? What's that got to do with you keeping humans from being abducted?"
“If the Bardaga were to enter Earth's orbit and engage another ship, then your planet would learn of our existence. The Planetary Alliance that governs my kind and others ruled that any planet unaware of other lifeforms cannot be contacted. Earth’s technology is primitive. You could not defend against an attack even from the weakest in the Alliance.”
“So, it's all about keeping Earth unaware that you exist to keep us safe?”
“Correct.”
A heavy sigh seemed to make her body smaller. “Is the Alliance like your president? Your ruler?”
"There is no one ruler of the Alliance. Every species and planet are represented, and all decisions are made collectively.”
“Democracy in outer space,” Emmy snorted. “Who knew?”
"Yes," I agreed, curious why she pressed her lips together to stop the twitching.
“What’s your ship like?” Emmy asked as the tractor beam gave another jerk. She'd shifted to watch through the pod's frontal view, so her back pressed against my chest. The scent of her curls was dizzying—floral, spicy, and sweet.
"Like any battle cruiser." I watched the large dock doors on the lower front quadrant slowly open.
"It has living quarters for my crew, a training area, plus a prison on the lowest levels of the ship.
My crew is devoted and well-trained. We have a Framaddi onboard that acts as a chef, so I suspect our meals are better than most."
Emmy looked over her shoulder at me, her nose crinkling adorably. “What’s a Framaddi?”
“The Framaddi are a species devoted to spreading culture among the galaxies. They make excellent musicians, artisans, and chefs. You will meet Orzon. He will be responsible for seeing to your comfort while aboard the Bardaga.”
“Am I … will I be the only human on board?" The slightest shudder ran through her body. If we weren't touching, I would have missed it.
“Until we locate the other humans, yes." I ran a hand through the hair at the nape of her neck.
Emmy seemed to like having her hair stroked, perhaps not quite as much as I enjoyed stroking the silky tresses.
"Please do not fear, tiny human. My crew is oath-bound to rescue and protect your kind. They will not be a danger to you."
Emmy turned her head, sharp green eyes meeting mine. "I trust you. Please don't make me regret that." She said softly. From the expression flitting across her face, I wondered if the words meant more than a simple response to my statement.
“I give you my work as a Vaktaire chieftain. I will protect you with my life.”
A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and the corners of her mouth turned upward faintly. She looked out the port window again as the tractor beam drew us to a stop, hovering in the middle of the ship’s loading dock.
The gigantic winch in the center of the dock used to move ships and supplies captured the pod as the tractor beam disengaged, setting us down without upset. I used the heel of my boot against the overhead window, and the upper glass lifted away with a resounding poof .
Our time in the pod did not exceed three of what humans called hours; still, my body felt sluggish as I hopped onto the deck.
Emmy would need assistance. The pod was small but sat too high above the floor for her tiny human legs to maneuver.
Resisting my offer to lift her out, she took my hand, sat on the pod's side, and shimmied down.
Before her dainty feet hit the floor, my council surrounded us.
Emmy turned, her eyes going wide. The hand in my palm turned to grip my fingers with surprising strength.
It felt right.
I offered a smile, hoping introductions would soothe her worry.
"Emmy, may I present my council. Tarook, my weapons master.
Hakkar, our healer. Jutuk, the ship's navigator, Daicon, my battle chief, and my Sage Charick.
" As I said their name, each male stepped forward, a fist laid over his heart, and gave an extended nod—the signal of greeting and respect from my people.
“Hello.” Emmy’s voice held no trepidation, but she pressed closer to my side, the grip of her hand not wavering
"Greetings, human." My Sage gave a deep bow, his expression wary. Emmy wasn’t the first human to be brought aboard the Bardaga, but she was definitely the calmest.
With a broad sweep of his arm, Charick led the way to the large room down the hall from the dock entrance.
We used the area for meetings, mission debriefings, guests, or when what was said between the six of us needed to be kept from the rest of the crew.
Not many were allowed access to the inner workings of our vessel, for good reason.
Several Vaktaire ships had been damaged or destroyed by those allowed on board posing as allies.