Alien Protector’s Mate (Latharian Mate Program #4)

Chapter 4

4

T hey were here.

Jade winced at the heavy clunk that reverberated through the crate she was hiding in. The last few hours had been nothing but silence and her own thoughts… namely, what the hell had she done? They were going to find her. She just knew they were. Then they’d quickly figure out that she wasn’t Jared and send her back to the Morgans. Or worse.

Actually, she had no idea what would be worse than being sent back to her foster parents. But life had never once let her down about getting worse, so it had no reason to start now.

Dull noises beyond the crate told her something was going on, but she didn’t know what. Determination filled her. The only thing she could do was take it one step at a time. And step one was getting out of the crate rather than just waiting in here to be discovered.

Wriggling again, she pushed upward on the top and slid it across as silently as she could so she could peek out. The cargo bay was dim and shadowy but not completely dark. There must be some low-level lighting somewhere because she could make out the dim forms of crates and other cargo around her.

Pushing further, she poked her head out, waiting for alarms to start blaring. When they didn’t, the tension between her shoulder blades eased a little, and she climbed out of the crate as quickly as she could. Which wasn’t quick. Her muscles ached from hours spent curled up in the confined space.

Pushing the lid back on the crate, she flitted between the cargo until she reached one of the doors. She leaned against it, just making out the sound of voices on the other side. Yeah, they were here. Devan Station.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, but the recycled air in the cargo bay felt thin and weird in her lungs. She had to breathe harder just to get a breath, and she started to panic. She’d heard them say the cargo bay was pressurized, but they hadn’t said anything about the environmental controls in here. The metallic taste of the air soured on her tongue. It would be just her luck to have escaped, only to suffocate before they opened the doors.

Just as she began to feel lightheaded, the massive doors in front of her groaned as they began to open, the sound vibrating through the metal floor under her feet. A thin sliver of light appeared, and she backed up quickly, hiding behind a crate to watch as the gap widened to reveal the bustling interior of the loading bay beyond.

The doors parted like a yawning maw, the harsh lighting from outside spilling into the dimly lit cargo hold and making her squint. She winced, holding up a hand to shield her face as her eyes struggled to adjust after hours in the darkness of the crate.

As the opening widened, a rush of air, laden with new smells and sounds, flooded in. She wrinkled her nose at some of the scents as she breathed deeply, finally filling her lungs as she kept her attention on the door in front of her. All she could see from this angle were more crates like the one she’d hidden in for the journey up here. But beyond them she could hear the distant hum of some kind of machinery, the chatter of voices, and every so often a soft whoosh she couldn’t identify.

She heard a groan behind her and whirled around to find that the cargo hold had two doors. The other one was behind her, opening slower than the first. Quickly, she tucked herself in deeper behind the crates, trying to keep an eye on both doors at once.

The second door was more informative than the first. She bit her lip as she peeked out over the crate. People scurried back and forth between what looked like hundreds of ships in the cargo bay, driving hover-carts laden with cargo. They mostly looked human, but a few towering figures had horns and tails that made her eyes open wide.

Voices got closer, their words completely alien to her. A group of men appeared in front of the door with cargo-sleds, and she shrank down further into the shadows, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure it would give her away.

“Krav’nath zho’lar mel’tik,” one of them said in a gruff voice as he pulled gloves on. “Shar’vol na’kree…”

“Rak! I told you to put the damned ship translator on,” one of the others in the group said. This close, she realized they weren’t human as she’d thought. They were way too big to be human. They must be Lathar. “Half these dockhands are human males and can’t understand a word of Latharian.”

“…is last of the perishables,” the one with the gruff voice said. “We need to get them to storage quickly. We’re behind schedule.”

They turned away to the sleds, and she inched forward. She had to go now, before they started unloading. As soon as they did, they would find her in here. Holding her breath and expecting shouts of alarm to ring out any second, she eased from her hiding place and darted to the first cargo door that had opened. Casting a quick look around to make sure she hadn’t been seen, she ran quick and low across to the group of crates not far away.

She worked her way across the cargo-hall like that, darting from one group of crates and boxes to another, always keeping an eye out to make sure she hadn’t been seen. Along with the aliens, machines filled the space as well. The tall, spindly spider-like machines had claws for hands and faces that were little more than one big, red eye. They gave her the creeps so she hid under a sled until they passed.

She was just about to squeeze out and continue toward the doors she’d spotted at the other end of the hall when the clang of metal on metal made her freeze. Footsteps approached—heavy, purposeful strides that echoed in the cavernous space. Her breath caught in her throat, and she pressed herself against a nearby container, praying its shadow would conceal her.

A towering figure passed by, only feet from where she was hiding. Through a gap in the cargo, she caught a glimpse of grey-tinged skin, rippling muscles, and horns. He wasn’t a Lathar, that was for sure. She’d heard stories of other aliens on the station, but she hadn’t paid any attention to the gossip. She’d had too much to think about with the Morgans to worry about aliens in orbit.

The alien paused, his head tilting as if sensing something amiss. She froze, breath caught in her chest, every nerve in her body taut with fear. For an agonizing moment, she was certain he would discover her.

Then a voice called out from across the bay. “Voratt! We need your strength with this equipment!”

The alien—Voratt—grunted an acknowledgment and moved away. She sagged in relief, her legs trembling as the adrenaline coursed through her system.

She couldn’t stay here. It was only a matter of time before someone spotted her. With a deep breath to steady herself, she moved again, slipping from shadow to shadow as she made her way toward what she hoped was an exit. Knowing her luck, it would just be the bay doors to space and she’d be fucked.

But as she got nearer, she caught glimpses of big corridors and the bustle of activity beyond the doors. People, the Lathar and the horned aliens alike, flowed in and out of the doors along with, she was relieved to see, some humans. Skirting around the back of a crate, she managed to snag a bright sash that must have been the equivalent of a high-vis vest here. She slipped it on and pulled her cap down to cover her eyes as she joined the back of a group of humans leaving the bay.

Relief filled her as the big doors slid shut behind her. She’d done it. She was aboard Devan Station and away from the Morgans.

Then she bit her lip as she looked around the crowded corridors. Many more aliens were here, of all different types, and she couldn’t understand a word of the conversation flowing around her. Her stomach churned as the reality of her situation sank in. She’d escaped, but now she had no plan, no resources, and no idea how to navigate this alien station.

What the hell did she do now?

Jade allowed herself to be swept along with the rest of the crowd headed down the corridor, trying not to gawk as she went. She’d never been out of her own sector of the city before, never mind all the way up to space on an alien station.

Everything was so big. The corridor itself was huge, stretching out in both directions and arcing gently in a way that told her it must follow the curve of the hull somehow. She hadn’t seen the station on the way up here, but she’d seen enough pictures of it in orbit. It kind of looked like the oranges she’d seen in history books but with the segments all spread open and linked together.

The ceiling arched high above her head, easily three times taller than any building she’d ever been in back on Earth. Soft, ambient lighting glowed from somewhere she couldn’t see, casting a warmth over the metallic walls and floor.

And the air felt different here. Even with the faint metallic tang that tickled her nose, it felt… cleaner somehow. But being packed in tightly among all these beings chased that away somewhat, her senses assaulted by a kaleidoscope of sights and a myriad of smells: spices she couldn’t name, the ozone tang of the robots that wove their way between the organic beings here, and something musky and alien that made her nose wrinkle.

She looked around and couldn’t stop her eyes widening with wonder. Humans mingled with aliens of all shapes and sizes. There were lots of Lathar, their long hair braided intricately and adorned with metal beads that clinked softly as they walked. Their leather clothing creaked with each movement, the material looking supple and well-worn. Surprisingly, for all their height, they weren’t the tallest aliens here. The big ones with the horns and tails easily topped them, their cloven feet making clipping sounds on the metal of the floor as they walked.

She wouldn’t even have been able to describe some of the other aliens if she’d tried. Some had skin in shimmering shades of blue and green while others sported extra limbs or eyes. One group that passed by chattered to each other in high-pitched clicks and whistles, reminding her of the dolphins she’d once seen in a nature documentary.

It was like something out of a dream. A small smile tugged at her lips despite everything… despite the fear and uncertainty of her situation. For a moment, she let a spark of excitement fill her chest. She was on an actual space station… she and Jared had always dreamed about this. And how many people back on Earth could say they’d done that?

Her wonder was short-lived though. The flow of the crowd took her around the gentle curve in the corridor, and she was so busy looking at a small alien with butterfly wings like silver that she missed the massive, reptilian alien who stopped abruptly in front of her. Its scales shimmered under the lights as it spun around, and she didn’t need to speak the same language to see the anger in its deep-set yellow eyes. It snapped at her, its mouth full of needle-sharp teeth.

“Kre’tavniv vee is nath! Shiv rol meik’fa!” it bellowed, its four eyes narrowed on her with predatory intensity.

Panic seized her chest, squeezing all the air from her lungs as other people in the corridor turned to watch the altercation. Shitshitshit , she was going to get caught.

“I’m sorry!” she whispered and then turned and bolted, shoving her way through the crowd. Behind her, she could hear the alien’s angry shouts growing fainter as she ran. She twisted and turned through the crowds in the corridor to get as far away as she could as quickly as she could.

She didn’t stop until her lungs burned and her legs felt like jelly. Slowing to a walk, she stuck her hand up to the side of her ribs, over the stitch forming there, and looked around.

This area of the station was less crowded. The polished metal of the main corridors had given way to duller walls and flickering lights. Small stores were packed together, selling all manner of goods, most of which she couldn’t identify. The smell here was different too… a mix of stale sweat, cooking grease, and something vaguely chemical that made her eyes water.

Shuffling along, she kept her head down and tried to blend in with the shadows. The beings she passed here looked rougher, their clothing more worn and their expressions guarded. She caught snippets of conversation in various languages, none of which she understood.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her as the adrenaline from her escape finally wore off. She’d napped in the crate on the way up here, but that had been snatched, not real sleep, and she’d woken at each bang and clank, convinced that the crew would discover her at any moment.

Her stomach growled loudly as the smell of food wafted from nearby establishments, making her mouth water even as her stomach twisted with hunger pangs. She hadn’t had anything to eat since this morning, and even then, it had only been quarter of a nutri-block. Not enough to stop her feeling lightheaded now.

Pulling her cap lower, she scanned her surroundings, looking for somewhere to hide and catch her breath. She’d rest a little as she tried to figure out what to do next. There… she spotted a narrow alley of sorts between two grimy storefronts that might have been restaurants. Quickly she slipped into the shadowy space, pressing her back against the cool metal wall.

She closed her eyes as the reality of her situation came crashing down on her. Sliding down the wall, she drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms.

Ohmygod, what had she done? She had no idea what she was doing. No plan, no money, and she couldn’t even understand what anyone was saying.

She lifted her head, wiping roughly at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. The stolen high-vis vest was crumpled beside her, no longer needed now that she was away from the cargo bay. Her stomach growled again, loudly enough that she worried someone might hear it.

She was so hungry, but she couldn’t gather the energy she needed to move. Just a few more minutes.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching made her freeze. She held her breath, pressing herself further into the shadows of her hiding spot.

“I’m telling you. We need to step up patrols in this sector,” a man said in a deep, rumbling voice. He had an odd accent and enunciated his words carefully, as if he was still learning the language. “Too many unregistered humans are slipping through.”

Her heart rate kicked up a notch, and she peeked around the edge of the alien dumpster she’d tucked herself in behind. One was human, a middle-aged man with a weather-beaten face and salt-and-pepper hair. The other… she had to crane her neck to take him all in.

He was Lathar and towered over his human partner, easily seven feet tall if not more. Her eyes widened as she looked at him. She’d seen them on the news feeds and in the cargo bay and corridors, but she hadn’t had a chance to really look at one.

His hair was a rich auburn shot through with petrol green, falling past his shoulders in intricate braids that were adorned with metal beads. Like the others she’d seen, he was clad head to toe in leather that hugged his muscular frame. Some kind of alien pistol hung at his hip, and she could see the outline of other weapons concealed beneath his jacket.

“I hear you, Aiin,” the human guard replied, running a hand through his hair and leaving it standing up in messy spikes. “But we’re stretched thin as it is. Command’s more worried about the trafficking ring we uncovered last month. They think more cells might be operating in the area.”

Aiin growled low in his throat. The sound sent a shiver down Jade’s spine. “All the more reason to increase our presence. These gang scum prey on the vulnerable, especially humans, especially human females if they can get them. We cannot allow it.”

“Agreed.” The human nodded. “But it’s difficult. Not all women want to come through that mating program, you know? Some of them are just trying to start a new life here? Living their own lives on their own terms.”

The Lathar grunted. “It would be safer for them to become mates. They can be useful to the empire then. Birth the next generations.”

“Fuck’s sake, Aiin, we’ve talked about this.” The human sighed, and she practically heard the eyeroll. “Not every woman wants to be hogtied to some dickhead warrior. Take my sister, Mel. She’s been married three times. She’d probably shank the first guy they hooked her up with.”

“We are not dickhead warriors,” Aiin growled and then shrugged. “Okay, we’re not all dickhead warriors. I was just saying it would be safer for them to be under the protection of the empire. At least then we could make sure they only dealt with reputable traders. These draanthic exploit the system, using fake credentials and disguises while making false promises, just to get the females in their cargo holds. We must be vigilant.”

The two moved off again, their voices fading as they continued their patrol. She waited until she couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore before she emerged from her hiding spot. Her legs were shaky, and her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. She had to find food, and soon.

Then she needed to figure out how to blend in and survive here without drawing attention to herself. The market she’d glimpsed down a side corridor earlier seemed like the best bet. Places like that were busy enough to get lost in the crowd with plenty of opportunities to scrounge for what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the cap lower over her eyes and hunched her shoulders, trying to make herself look as unremarkable as possible before she stepped out of the alley and into the flow of foot traffic, letting it carry her toward where she remembered the marketplace to be.