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Alien Dragon's Baby: A Scifi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss) Page 2


  "We're bio-chemists, thank you very much your Highness," Jolie quips. "If not for our work, you high and mighty pilots would starve."

  "Right, thanks, the food's been so wonderful of late," Amara says shaking her head.

  "We're not the cooks!" Jolie exclaims rising to the bait and I sigh.

  "She's prodding you Jolie," I admonish her.

  "Oh, right," Jolie says then shrugs. "Whatever."

  The room shakes hard causing the three of us to lose our balance. I'm pinwheeling my arms to try and stay upright then I fall onto the couch. Decorations we have on shelves around the room are thrown to the floor filling my ears with the sound of shattering glass.

  "What the hell?" I ask as the shaking stops.

  "Woah!" Jolie cries.

  "Damn it," Amara growls.

  "Amara, what's happen-"

  My question is cut off as the light of the room switches from white to red and begins flashing. A distant alarm sounds, echoing into our space. My blood turns cold and my stomach clenches into a tight knot.

  "Amara?" Jolie asks, her voice trembling with fear.

  We've drilled this all our lives but no one ever expected a real alarm. It's all theoretical because there are only a small handful of events that would cause the alarms to sound and none of them are good.

  "You know the drills. We have to get to our life pods," Amara orders.

  "But what is it?" I ask.

  Amara looks at me with heavy eyes. "I don't know."

  She's lying and I know it but there's no time to argue because the alarms grow louder as the room shakes once more. The light begins flashing in a different rhythm. Amara watches it carefully while I struggle to remember the codes we learned in core school.

  "Damn," Amara mutters then she leaps into motion.

  She grabs Jolie and helps her to her feet. The room rocks hard and I'm knocked back on my butt again. I struggle to my feet and see Amara and Jolie supporting each other. I reach them and we hold on to each other and work our way to the door. As soon as it slides open we're choking on smoke that fills the hallway. Other people fill the space crying and screaming as they try to fight their way through the smoke and stay upright as the floor bucks and heaves under our feet.

  "Amara, what the hell is it? Smoke? There was no smoke in any of our drills," I ask grabbing her by her shoulders and forcing her to look at me.

  She purses her lips and tenses her jaw. She shakes her head looking side to side as other girls work their way past us towards their own stations or life pods depending on their assignments.

  "Pirates," Amara answers me. "We have to get to our stations. Now."

  "You're shitting me," I say. "I thought they were like a myth, like the Empire or something?"

  "No, they're not," she replies.

  "PIRATES!" three girls fighting their way down the hallway scream at once having overheard Amara.

  "No, calm down. Get to your stations," Amara orders.

  Then I hear gunshots for the first time. The sound of it echoes down the hall bouncing off the walls and reverberating in my ears causing a ringing that doesn't stop.

  "What was that?" Jolie asks.

  "Gunshots?" I make it a question because I'm guessing. I've only heard them on movies before.

  Everything around us is chaos. People are running and screaming. The three of us stick close together and Amara falls into a leadership role that I'm glad to let her have. We make our way out of our dorm levels and onto the main thoroughfare and then things go from bad to nightmarish. The ceiling lights all flash red in time with the blaring alarms. The air is filled with thick smoke out of which screaming people are running for their security stations or just running in fear and confusion. Jolie has a death grip on my arm while I keep on hand on Amara as she pushes her way through the crowds. A zinging sound burns through the air over our heads preceded by a blue flash of light.

  "Shit," Amara curses as all three of us duck.

  The screams grow louder as we work our way forward towards our designated life pods. It's not that far. We've drilled this all our lives and it's supposed to take less than two minutes for everyone to reach their life pods in an emergency situation. It's been much longer than that. The smoke, the screams, the fear, all contribute but no one is calmly proceeding like they do during the drills. Everyone has gone insane running here and there crying and wailing. We seem to be running against the crowd too which is not helping.

  "Run!" a dark haired man screams, grabbing Amara as he appears from the smoke. "They're that way!"

  He lets her go and runs past us fast. I look after him then back at Amara.

  "Ignore him, they're in a panic," she says and continues forward.

  We go less than a dozen feet when a blood curdling scream crests over blaring alarms.

  "NOOOO!!!!!"

  It makes my blood run cold and goosebumps form on my arms. My stomach clenches into a hard knot forcing acid to burn its way up my throat. The smoke swirls around us as we move slowly forward. The smoke clears and three men are ahead of us but these aren't our men. Their skin has an orange tint and leathery look. Their mouths are filled with sharp teeth and there are two spiky protrusions coming out on either side. The top of their heads are bald but they have black dread lock looking hair or tentacles around the sides and back with metallic bands up and down each individual strand. They're wearing space leathers, outfits designed to double over as space suits for short jaunts in the cold vacuum. They're armed with clubs and one of them has a gun that he points at the three of us. On the ground in front of them is a fourth man holding down a girl who was the source of the screams.

  "Well, well boys, our lucky day!" the pirate with the gun says in Common, grinning to show his sharp, nasty, yellow teeth.

  "Oh no," Jolie cries next to me.

  Amara steps forward and somehow manages to get the gun man's weapon away from him. There's a loud crack then his head explodes as a new hole forms in his forehead and he drops to the ground. Looking around there's a fire extinguisher mounted on the wall next to me so I grab it from the wall and run forward waving it madly in front of me. I scream, filled with a rage and anger I've never experienced before. The one on top of the girl has his pants around his knees. He looks up just as I swing and tries to roll but I hit him straight across the top of his head and feel his skull cave in with the force of the blow. Wetness splashes across me and my stomach flips. It takes all my willpower not to drop to my knees and vomit. I kneel down beside the girl and then realize I know her.

  "Inga," I say softly reaching towards her.

  She jerks away from me crying out as tears stream down her face.

  "NO!" she screams looking around wildly and scrabbling backwards.

  "Inga, stop!" I yell at her.

  Her eyes land on me and I see them clear.

  "Calista?" she says, her voice quivering.

  "You're fine, come on, we have to get to the life pods," I say reassuringly.

  She nods and pulls at her clothes trying to cover herself. Amara and Jolie close around her and the three of us help her to her feet. I look at the lifeless body of the pirate. One eye stares up at me as it glazes over and bile rises in my throat. I gag and turn away.

  "You okay?" Jolie asks placing a hand on my back.

  "I'll be fine," I choke out forcing the bile back down.

  It's a lie but I cling to it. He was alive and I just… no I can't think about that.

  "Let's move," Amara orders.

  We form a protective circle around Inga and continue on our way. The ship rumbles and there's explosions in the distance.

  "We're going to die," Inga sobs, barely keeping herself upright.

  "No, we're not," Amara barks without looking back.

  We come to a crossroads that we shouldn't have reached.

  "We missed our turn," I say.

  "It doesn't matter," Jolie says. "There's another life pod on this corridor."

  "Fine, let's go there then," Amara s
ays.

  "How did we get turned around?" I ask but as soon as I say it the sound of fighting echoes to us.

  It sounds close and intense. Cries of pain accent the sounds of flesh hitting flesh. The four of us look at each other scared, confused, and none of certain what we should be doing. Nothing in our lifetime of safety drills prepared us for a flat out invasion by pirates. Space pirates were a myth, a bed time story to scare each other with. They not supposed to really exist! Except they're here. I just killed one. My stomach clenches tight and burns with hot bile as I see that man lying there with his head bashed in. I did that. Oh god what are we going to do?

  "We have to push forward," Amara says.

  "It's just a few yards that way," Jolie says pointing the same direction the sound is coming from.

  "Right, just a few yards," I say looking down into the swirling smoke.

  Jolie shrugs and gives a tentative smile.

  "Well if nothing else we just Han Solo it," I quip.

  "What?" Amara asks looking at me like I'm crazy.

  "Star Wars? When they're outnumbered by the storm troopers so he and Chewie just charge in blasting the two of them against a dozen and all the troopers run away in fear thinking they're outnumbered?"

  Amara looks at me blankly but Jolie laughs. Inga chuckles softly, the first response she's given that makes it seems like she's going to be okay.

  "Seriously? You've never seen Star Wars?" I ask Amara.

  "I always preferred Star Trek," she responds.

  I shake my head and sigh.

  "Vulcan's are sexy," Inga says and Jolie laughs.

  "Okay, sure, I agree, still anyone have a better idea?"

  No one speaks up so we all crouch down and creep towards the sounds of the fighting. It's coming from around a corner that we reach in minutes. Amara peeks around then pulls back and leans against the wall.

  "Uhm," she says.

  "What?" the three of us whisper almost in unison.

  "I think she's winning," she says.

  "Huh?" I ask.

  Amara shakes her head and glances around just as another explosion rocks through the ship causing the floor to jump then buckle. It knocks all four of us off our feet. There's a loud whistling sound and the air is rushing past us like a strong wind blasting through the corridor. I climb to my feet then help Inga and Jolie. Amara is already on her feet looking around. The ceiling ruptured and a crack has formed in the wall with some pipe sticking out of it. One of them is spewing steam and another has water running out of it. Amara grabs the water pipe and works it back and forth until it breaks off in her hand. She looks at me then down at the fire extinguisher that I'd mostly forgotten I was still carrying.

  "Han and Chewie?" she asks.

  I nod and heft up my fire extinguisher. We step into the corridor both raising our weapons high and I yell a wordless battle cry. My heart is racing and my breath is coming in short gasps both due to smoke and the adrenaline fueled fear that has me in its grip. I run beside Amara through the smoke towards a group of bodies that I can barely make out. The red flashing light glints off black space leather but there's glimpses of white as well. As we run forward two of the black clad bodies go up into the air then land hard on their backs not moving.

  A woman clad in flowing white stands in a defensive position facing us from the far side of the unmoving bodies. I stop my forward charge slowing to a halt. This is not what I expected. It's Lady General Rosalind, head of the ship's fighting force. She's a beautiful woman with long dark hair that hangs past her shoulders. Her hands are balled into fists with one leg forward so that she's in a slight crouch.

  "Who are you?" she asks without relaxing.

  "I'm Cal-"

  My attempt to answer is cut off by another explosion then the hallway turns sideways and I'm slammed into the wall. The air rushes past us so fast it takes my breath away. Amara slams down on top of me then we're tumbling forward. Gravity switches positions pushing me against the wall so hard I can't raise my head. My vision grays at the edges and I struggle to not pass out. I have to get our group to the life pod. This is it, the ship is damaged, we're screwed. I raise my head but then there's another explosion and the last thing I feel is my head slamming back against the wall.

  3 CALISTA

  My head is pounding like a solid bass drum being played by the Metallica drummer. Double beat, single beat, double beat, single beat. The intro to One ponds through my skull. I'm hot, really, really hot. I try to open my eyes but it really is too much effort. My mouth and throat feel like I've been eating sand, and my eyes feel glued shut. I give up. I must be trapped inside a sun it's so damn hot and I just don't care to even try. I tell my hand to move but it feels like it's a million miles away.

  Someone moans and cries. A grunt of pain echoes through my head cutting through the pounding. My hand responds at last slowly raising until I feel it touching my forehead. I rub across my eyes. Something gritty covers them so I wipe it away the best I can. Everything feels distant, disconnected from me, and hard to accomplish. The simplest of tasks take monumental effort to push past the pulsing pain in my head. I don't want to be here. Forcing my eyes to open it feels like they tear their way across my eyeballs then I'm assaulted by bright light that temporarily blinds me.

  "Gah!" I cry out.

  "Calista?" Jolie's voice comes from somewhere close by.

  I blink repeatedly trying to clear my vision so I can see my friend.

  "Yeah?" my voice sound tentative even to me.

  "Are you alive?" she asks.

  "Maybe?" I still can't see so I wipe at my eyes furiously and at last my vision clears.

  I wish it hadn't. I'm lying on my back staring up at a red-orange sky with wispy clouds that look like purple bruises. A blazing red sun glares down at me angrily. Pushing off the ground I rise up to my elbows. As I do they sink a little.

  Sand, red sand dotted with massive chunks of steel and bodies for as far as I can see. In the distance are rock protrusions that rise high breaking the skyline and my line of sight. It looks like we're in some kind of valley or the middle of a desert.

  "Damn," Amara says whistling.

  Looking over she's on her feet and shielding her eyes while turning a circle. I lay back down my head hurting even worse.

  "What happened?" Jolie asks.

  "We crashed on Tatooine," I groan.

  "It's Vulcan," Amara says.

  "Is not," I grouse. "Sand, fucking sand everywhere. That's Tatooine."

  "It's red and there's mountains, that's Vulcan," Amara replies.

  "Fine," I fold to the Star Trek lover. "Get Scotty to beam me up so Bones can do something about this pain in my head."

  "Just be glad you're not wearing a red shirt," Jolie quips.

  "Ugh," I groan.

  Jolie kneels down next to me and inspects my head. When she touches the back of it sharp pain stabs through the regular pounding and I cry out in surprise and pain. She purses her lips and shakes her head.

  "You got cracked pretty good," she says.

  "I can tell," I say rolling over and getting onto my knees.

  "Be careful," Jolie says helping me steady myself.

  "Sure, all the time in the world for that," I say, standing up slowly.

  Jolie holds on to me and Amara comes and helps on my other side. I lean on them gratefully until the dizziness passes. The three of us silently inspect the area. It's obvious we've crashed on a planet and not a hospitable one at that. Massive parts of the colony ship stick up out of the sand, some of them might be whole enough to use for shelter. Bodies dot the landscape that might be alive or dead. Some are moving and a few people are on their feet looking around lost. The heat is going to be our most immediate issue. My throat is as dry as all this red sand and my skin is burning. I look at my friends and can see they're burning too.

  "We need to find shelter," Amara says. "Now."

  "Yeah," I agree. "And figure out who survived."

  Jolie blanches
at my words but Amara nods her agreement.

  "That section looks pretty whole," Jolie points at part of the ship that's a few hundred yards away.

  "Probably our best bet," I say. "We can gather survivors on our way."

  The three of us start trekking across the hot sand. The first person lying on the ground we come to didn't make it. Propriety makes me want to bury them or do something but survival has to come first. The next one we come to is Inga. As we approach she suddenly jumps to her feet and looks around wide-eyed.

  "Inga!" I call to her.

  She whips her head around so fast it makes my own head hurt worse.

  "You're fine," Jolie says running over to her.

  "Where are we?" Inga asks her voice cracking.

  "Tatooine," I say.

  "Vulcan," Amara says right on top of me. I glare at her and she returns it. "I won that debate, remember?"

  "Right," I agree sagging. "Vulcan."

  Inga looks between us with tears welling in her eyes. Her fair skin is bright red and starting to blister already. We have to get to shelter and find water or nothing else is going to matter. We gather Inga and continue on our way towards the massive piece of what was the only home any of us have ever known. Inga silently cries as we go and my head continues pounding.

  We find a handful of others but most of those we come to didn't survive. We gather those who did and all of us support each other trudging forward. By the time we reach the shade being cast by the broken ship I'm dizzy and my knees feel weak plus my stomach is cramping and I'm nauseous. The others are not faring any better. The heat is incredible, too much to be dealt with. I haven't seen any signs of life yet. I'm curious as to how any plant life would have to adapt to survive. Is there other life? Are we alone on this planet and doomed to die? I think if I have enough time I can figure out a way to adapt our seeds if any survived but I'd need a lab and time.

  "Finally," Amara sighs with relief as we get into the shade at last.

  We work our way along the cool metal of the ship trying to find an opening. It's huge, probably three to four hundred yards long and towering at least a hundred into the sky. It looks like a triangle with one point buried into the sandy ground. The sun is behind and the shade it casts is at least twenty degrees cooler than out of it but still hot. Several of our small group passes out forcing us to stop and help them back to their feet before we all continue. Our progress is slow, too slow. If we don't find water soon nothing else will matter.