Page 1 of My Alien Angel
Chapter 1
Omni
Alaserblastwhizzespast the exact location where my wing had been a split second ago, presumably leaving a scorch mark on the wall. I don’t stop moving long enough to check, rounding the corner before slamming my palm against the nearest door panel. There should be a grid to access the maintenance corridor somewhere around here. If my wings don’t get caught on anything inside the cramped ducts, I’ll be able to lose my pursuers inside there. Of course, I don’t know how long I’m going to last, hiding out in a series of corridorsnot much bigger than a crawl space. Now that they know I’m on board this ship, they won’t stop until they find and kill me.
Taking down the nearest person to me with a pilfered rifle confirms that I’m not easy prey. As a former member of the top special ops team in the galaxy, the Voidstalkers, I’ve fought hundreds of disgusting vermin like these Ataxi slavers, and won every time. That’s not about to change just because I’m alone and stranded on their ship. I may be cut off from my crew, weapons, and any kind of backup but I’ll figure out a way to defeat them. I just need time.
A sudden tremor running through the ship reminds me that time is one thing I don’t have. This ship is about to land. On Earth, if I’m not mistaken. Being deemed a primitive planet by the United Galactic Congress, Earth is protected under the Non-Interference Directive. Until humans reach certain intellectual and developmental milestones, they’re not supposed to know about the billions of intelligent aliens surrounding their meagre solar system. There is a very strict “no contact” order in place, which is currently supposed to be enforced by an impenetrable UGC blockade. In theory, anyway. The fact that I’m inside a slaver ship that’s about to land on Earth proves the UGC blockade is clearly inadequate.
Why humans? I couldn’t say. The ones I know are tolerable at best. As a species though, humans are worth many times more than almost any other slave, making them far too valuable to pass up. Every slaver in the galaxy has, at one time or another, dreamed of sneaking through the blockade and stealing even just one human, but the UGC usually catches them. Still, every once in a while, a slaver ship manages to sneak through and kidnap a human or two. The punishment for being caught entering the forbidden area is positively draconian, but the profit from selling humans far outweighs the risks.
What’s worse, Garresh, the owner of this ship I’m currently on, has an ally inside the UGC blockade, someone high enough ranked to help the Eclipse Raider pass through undetected. Garresh has already kidnapped at least two humans from Earth and something tells me that this time, he won’t stop at taking just one or two humans. If he’s landing the ship, he’s planning on trafficking dozens. If he’s successful and manages to sell them all, he’s going to become one of the richest assholes in the galaxy.
Unless I stop him.
I don’t really have a solid plan. Winds, I don’t haveanyplan. I just know that I need to get off this ship before they lock me in somewhere and gas me. I also need to make sure Garresh can’t take off again. Except, sabotage isn’t really my strong suit. My crew mate, D’Aakh, could disable the ship for a month by snapping a single wire. Me? Well, I’m not that kind of smart. I wouldn’t call myself stupid, but technology certainly isn’t my forte. I’m good with a rifle and can take out a moving target from a great distance, but I once got stuck in a malfunctioning elevator for nearly ten hours because I had no idea how to fix it.
Ironically, I have actually disabled a ship for at least a week once before. Not because I’m a tech wizard but because, when it comes to moving around in tight spaces, my wings make me a bit of a klutz. I once accidentally grounded a shuttle simply by knocking a bottle of hydraulic fluid into… Well, I don’t know exactly what it was that got destroyed, but it was important and made a lot of sparks when the fluid splashed over it. D’Aakh spent a week fixing it and I spent the next month showering in cold water and running into doors that mysteriously kept malfunctioning for me. Seriously, never piss off a technician. The fallout isn’t worth it.
Wincing as one of my wings brushes against a steaming hot pipe, I crawl through a tight space in the maintenance corridor, relieved when it opens up into a larger room. There’s a fainthumming in the air, which I assume is coming from the reactor. Since a reactor explosion would probably take out a big portion of the planet, I don’t really want to damage it per se, I just need to stop it from working for a while. Easy breezey, right?
I grab two bottles of unknown liquid from a supply alcove, hoping that whatever they contain will be enough to recreate my aforementioned shuttle accident. Except damaging a tiny shuttle versus a massive spaceship is probably quite different. Looking around the room, I don’t recognize any of the machinery in here. There’s no obvious version of the gadget I broke on the Dart. There’s just a lot ofstuff. Weird mechanical stuff I don’t understand in the slightest.
Shouts from down the maintenance corridor announce the arrival of my pursuers. “Blasted winds,” I mutter, unscrewing one of the bottles. “This better not blow the entire ship up.” I wouldn’t mind killing Garresh and his goons, but the collateral damage would be too great, not to mention it would kill the two enslaved Karetelans Garresh keeps on board. Oh, and it would also kill me. I’m not opposed to heroic deaths in general, but I’d very much prefer to avoid being involved in one if there’s another option.
Shrugging, I pour some of the oily liquid over the nearest piece of machinery, expecting it to go up in flames. It doesn’t. “Fuck. Come on.” The next machine emits an ear-splitting screech but doesn’t stop pumping whatever it is pumping and after a second, the screeching sound dies down and it continues to run as usual. “Skies take me!” Why isn’t this working?
Tossing the empty bottle away, I grab the second one, pouring the contents liberally over everything within reach. Finally, something sparks and one of the machines sputters and dies. The engines rumble ominously but whether it’s due to what I just did or because we’re about to land, I’m not sure.
Another laser blast passes by my head, hitting one of the still functional machines. Electricity arcs out, singeing some feathers on the tip of my left wing. A couple of the attackers cry out in panic and someone frantically commands everyone to stop shooting. Apparently, they’re more worried about damaging the ship than killing me, which works just fine for me. Since both bottles are empty and the damage doesn’t seem extensive enough yet, I raise the stolen rifle then send a prayer to the blessed winds before shooting several holes into important-looking machinery.
This time, the ship shudders so hard my balance falters. Alarms blare and the soft humming of the reactor turns to a sinister whine. “Oops. That’s not fucking good.” Time to abandon ship.
Taking off in the opposite direction to the oncoming guards, I leap and crawl over obstacles, my once pristine wings now covered in black engine sludge. I have a destination in mind but it’s difficult to get a sense of direction when fleeing armed criminals on an unfamiliar ship, especially an Ataxi ship, which is designed very differently to the standard UGC models. Scouring the depths of my memory for the one time I studied Ataxi ship plans during a short war against the Empire, I try to pick corridors that will hopefully get me to the hangar. If I can steal a shuttle, great, if not, well. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve jumped off a ship mid-landing. That’s what wings are for, anyway.
A narrow hatch spits me out into the main corridor of the ship, right into the path of two massive Okri guards. Boulder-like in both appearance and intelligence, neither one knows how to react to a stranger bursting out from behind a wall panel. Taking them down with two well-placed shots, I curse at the blinking light indicating the charge on my stolen rifle is almost depleted.Fucking incompetent idiots. Can’t they keep their weapons fully charged, for wind’s sake?
Typical. The two dead Okri aren’t armed, so off to the hangar I go with a nearly dead rifle, knowing there’s only one, maybe two shots left before it dies, leaving me facing an indeterminate number of enemies unarmed. Not the worst odds I’ve ever faced but also, not an experience I’m eager to repeat. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sneak past the rest of the slavers unnoticed.
That hope dies an abrupt death when the hangar door slides open and I’m faced with a dozen armed slavers. Oh, right. Garresh ordered everyone to gather in the hangar to prepare for the great human reaping. Fuck me, how did I forget that?
“Kill him!” Garresh bellows furiously, the golden rings on his head spikes gleaming in the overhead lights.
With a dozen guns aimed straight at me, my options are limited. I can either retreat and eventually get cornered in another part of the ship, or make a suicide run for the open hangar doors and hope for the best. Since retreating has never been my favorite tactic, I take the leap. Literally. Spreading my wings, I jump over the startled slavers, heading to where a shimmering force field is protecting the ship’s interior from the violent descent through Earth’s atmosphere.
“Shoot him!” Garresh shouts before a few laser blasts start whizzing past me. One blast singes feathers on my right wing, which is infuriating because they take weeks to regrow. At this rate, I’m going to resemble a half-plucked bird.
By the skin of my wings, I make it to the force field before the slavers improve their abysmal aim. Passing through, the turbulent wind slams into me with the intensity of a hammer, ramming me back against the ship’s hull. Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea. I’ve jumped from a landing ship once before, but that one was moving slowly. Whether it’s the pilot’s incompetence, the need to evade authorities, or the damage tothe reactor, the Eclipse Raider is descending toward a nearby mountain range at an alarming speed, much faster than any landing maneuvers normally allow and, as I’m slammed against the hull once again, I notice the maneuvering thrusters aren’t online.
Oh well. If they crash, they can’t kidnap anyone.
I’d smirk but a gust of icy wind tosses me to the side, right into a communications array. Something snaps inside of me, pain flaring from my left wing. The wind plays with my body like a pup with a new toy, tossing and turning me backward haphazardly as the ship zooms forward, the exhaust vents turning the air from freezing my bones to burning me alive as I’m thrown around in their wake. Fortunately, it only lasts a second before the air stream grabs me again.
I’m falling.
Normally, this would be fun, but with my breath freezing in my lungs and one of my wings either broken or dislocated, I’m regretting leaping from the ship. Despite the sharp pain, my wings flap determinedly, desperately trying to slow my fall, but it’s too late, the sand below is coming up fast to greet me. There isn’t even any damned shrubbery I could use to cushion the landing. Just sand and rocks. A straight black line cuts through the desert, metallic objects glinting on it here and there. A road, maybe? With ground transports? Its surface looks even harder than the sand, so I steer away from it. A warm undercurrent catches my injured wing, slowing my descent while agony shoots through me, but I’m still going down too fast. I’ve had bad landings before but this one will take the cake.
Mmm cake. I’d love some cake. Or better yet, warpberry fritters. I have a whole box of them stashed back on the Supernova. If I don’t get back there soon, my stupid crew mates will eat them all.
