Page 4 of Protected By the Alien Space Guardian

And then he came into view, and my breath stopped.

He was a monster of a man, his six-and-a-half-foot tall body was encased in a dark gray uniform. Tightly snug against his flesh, it showed off colossal muscles. Long black hair was held back by the nape of his neck. In one hand, he held some kind of shield that deflected the Cryons’ blaster shots, and in the other, he held a similar weapon. This was no man. This was a titan—a god.

My stomach fluttered until I realized he wasn’t really a man. At least not a human one. His skin was a mix of silver and gray, and his eyes reminded me of those of a shark. Deep set black orbs. Emotionless as he killed one Cryon after another.

When it was done, he turned to face us.

It didn’t take that much skill to hack into the Cryon computers and receive a list of transporters holding human prisoners on board. The Cryons were amping up their game, realizing the Pandraxian Empire would soon put an end to their exploitation of Earth.

All I had to do was pick one with the most prisoners on board and intercept them once they left hyperspace and before they landed on Colynth.

The Ohrur assured us that we Space Guardians flew the fastest ships, had the strongest shields, blasters, magnetic fields, and the most advanced technology that could be bought. It wasn’t hard for Ohrurs to obtain these things. They had the credits for it. Credits they were paid for our work. Credits we never saw even a fraction of. Oh, supposedly, the credits were invested for us. To ensure a nice rounded retirement fund for us Space Guardians when the time came. The problem was, I’d never heard of any retired Space Guardian, which left the retirement funds in the Ohrur’s pockets.

I wasn’t bitter about it. The Ohrurs gave us plenty of credits to keep an affluential lifestyle whenever the assignments allowed. Our ships were spacious and up to the latest designs and technologies. If my assignment took me planetside, I could afford to live in the best places and eat the finest meals unless I had to go down into the slums to catch criminals like Boudoyen Rapsala. It was the only life I knew, and I enjoyed it. This was what I had been born, bred, and raised to be.

Every once in a while, I even got to play the hero, like that day when I stared at the hundreds of human eyes directed at me after taking care of the Cryon crew, which had been mere child’s play. It didn’t happen very often that I got to save someone, let alone hundreds. Most of the time, I was a glorified assassin sent in to find the scum of the universe who kept escaping the GTU or any of the many planetary forces. The kind of scum who couldn’t be caught by playing nice or by staying within the GTU laws.

Space Guardians knew no such boundaries. We went after whoever we were assigned to take out by any means necessary. The GTU tolerated us because we walked the gray line without conscience, regrets, or moral restrictions and did what was right.

Our bosses, the Ohrur, made sure to tread a careful line. They didn’t allow us to assassinate, let’s say, the ruler of a competing planet, a diplomat, or anybody who wasn’t a criminal—even though that could be argued when it came to rulers and politicians. The Ohrurs made plenty of credits for having us go where no other legal forces could to clean up the dregs of society or quench a rebellion.

Or, like in this case, to free a bunch of prisoners.

The only challenging aspect of this assignment had been to dock my ship against the Cryon vessel, avoiding detection. After that, a drone cut a hole into the Cryon’s ship, making it impossible for them to shake me off unless they wanted their ship to implode.

They tried to knock me off balance with their silly maneuvers, but all they had accomplished with that was to toss the prisoners around and catch their own people off guard. When the captain realized her mistake, it was too late. She was one of the first I took care of.

And now I took in the hundreds of prisoners of this new species: humans.

One woman stepped forward, staring at me through the translucent wall. It was only now that I noticed how all the captives’ arms were bound behind their backs, and I ground my jaw over the unnecessary, cruel treatment.

Dried blood covered half of her face, but clear gray eyes, the likes I had never seen before, assessed me as hard as I her. She was pretty, very pretty. My cock, which had been denied the serving wench on RAT05 stiffened. My head did some quick calculations, and I concluded that there would be enough time before we reached Astrionis to seduce her. I sent my most charismatic smile at her, the one that showed my dimples and made females’ knees go weak across the galaxy.

She didn’t smile back.

I creased my brow.

Her mouth moved behind the glass, but I didn’t hear what she said. Frustrated, she huffed when she realized it. I swaggered to the panel, fully aware of her stare against my backside. My wrist comm made quick work of the panel’s code, opening the walls.

Questions assaulted me from all sides.

Oh my God, did you come to rescue us?

Did you come to take us back to Earth?

Are the aliens dead?

Who are you?

Thankfully, my language chip kicked in right away, having already been updated on the various Earth languages. I held up my palm.

“I am Space Guardian Raasla Garjed. Yes, the Cryons are dead, and the ship is ours. No, I will not take you back to Earth. I’m ordered to take you to Lord Protector Garth of Astrionis, where you will find other humans and a new home.”

The humans stared at me open-mouthed and wide-eyed, keeping, thankfully, their distance. All except her. She walked right up to me, barely reaching my chest, and turned to wiggle her bound arms.

Agitated for her having been treated this way, I pulled out a knife and cut her bindings.

“Thank you.” She turned, rubbing her wrists and shaking her arms before she held out her palm. When I didn’t react, she said, “The knife?”

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