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

Chapter 13

13

S ’aad leaned back in his chair, his fingers dancing over his console as he compiled the new data from the Terran penal system for the database. A soft chime from his communication device broke his focus. Turning his wrist, he blinked, straightening up as he recognized the identifier. Maax. It wasn’t a call, just a message. Two lines with a location code.

We need to talk. Come alone.

He rubbed his jaw, the stubble prickling his fingertips. If Maax wasn’t comfortable discussing this over a secure channel, they had more of a serious problem than he’d thought. He flicked a glance across the lab to where Jay was working on data analysis, his narrow shoulders hunched where he sat in front of his console.

He’d only been working on the project for a few hours, but the notes he’d made, flagging inconsistencies even S’aad wouldn’t have noticed, had impressed him. He had an uncanny knack for seeing things from a different angle, and that was definitely what they needed.

Making a split-second decision, he called out, “Jay, save your work and come with me. I need your help with something.”

The human looked around, curiosity in his dark eyes. “Sure thing. What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you on the way. Come on.”

He waited by the door as Jay switched out his lab coat and cap for his outer wear, arms folded behind his back as he tried his best not to look as the smaller male changed. He knew Jay’s hair was pale and long, maybe as long as his own. Suddenly he wondered what it would look like down, without the cap. Would it feel silky and soft running through his fingers as he?—

He cut the thought off and grunted as Jay joined him at the door, turning to leave the labs and then the LMP section without a word.

As they made their way through the corridors and more crowded areas of the station, S’aad’s mind raced. How much should he tell Jay about what was going on? The implications of it? He was human and male, so the stakes weren’t as high for him, but… he had an aptitude for the work, and because he was human, he would be looking at this from a different angle. His perspective might prove valuable. But involving him could also put him at risk, and S’aad didn’t know how he felt about that.

So… why was he bringing him along to the meeting with Maax anyway?

“Remember our conversation about the discrepancies in the matching algorithm?” S’aad asked in a low voice as they walked, leaving the main areas of the station and heading deeper into the restricted areas. The guards they passed glanced at Jay, but because he was with S’aad, they didn’t say anything or try to stop them. No one ever did. Healers were rarely ever challenged.

Jay nodded, his expression serious. “Yeah, of course. Why? Have you found something new?”

“Possibly,” S’aad replied, glancing around to ensure they weren’t overheard, but they were alone for the moment. “But we need to be discreet. This situation could be more… complicated than we initially thought.”

They entered a less populated area of the station, the sleek refit of the LMP and civilian areas giving way to the more utilitarian B’Kaar design. The air grew cooler, carrying a faint metallic tang that spoke of the station’s true nature, and the lights were dimmer. He spotted Jay looking around, curiosity written on his softer features.

“We’re heading into the more functional sections of the station,” he explained. “This is all mostly B’Kaar design from before the conversion.”

Jay’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Was it something else before?”

S’aad nodded, looking at him with surprise. “It was. Didn’t the human newsfeeds cover it?”

Jay shrugged, looking away. “Didn’t get much chance to watch the feeds to be honest. Too busy.”

Too busy surviving, S’aad realized and kept on talking. “Well, this entire station used to be a B’Kaar warship. One of the biggest of its kind. A destroyer class called the Devan’kra . We positioned it here in Earth orbit and converted it.”

Jay ran his hand along one of the walls, tracing the B’Kaar designs. “It’s incredible,” he breathed. “But why turn a destroyer into a station? And why here, of all places?”

“It’s less of a station and more of a massive weapons platform.” He shrugged. “Earth has a valuable resource that needs protection.”

Jay looked at him from under the brim of his tatty cap. “What resource?”

“Females,” he replied, his voice tight. “Human females are incredibly precious to us, Jay. Non-imperial Lathar and others might try to raid the surface and steal them.”

Jay snorted, a bitter edge to the sound that caught S’aad off guard. “They don’t need to steal anyone. Just go to one of the factory cities… plenty of women there would fall over themselves to leave.”

S’aad blinked in surprise. He’d known that conditions on Earth were far from ideal, but hearing it so bluntly from someone who’d lived it was different. “It’s not just about willing participants, Jay. There are… other species out there, ones that would see earth or any of her colonies as nothing more than a food source.”

“What… you mean some aliens would eat us?” Jay whispered, going as white as a sheet.

He nodded. “Unfortunately so. Such species are in the minority now, mostly exterminated by more reasonable members of the intergalactic community, but there are a few holdouts, like the Krin.”

“The Krin?”

He inclined his head. “A predatory species that delights in hunting and consuming other species, often while they are still alive.”

Jay looked like he was going to be sick. “That’s… That…”

“Exactly.” S’aad clamped a hand down on his delicate shoulder. “But don’t you worry. We keep the Krin well-contained in their own areas of space. There’s no risk of them reaching Earth.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound the soft hum of the station’s systems and their footsteps echoing off the metal walls.

“S’aad,” Jay murmured, his voice low. “What the emperor said earlier, about the new data from the human penal colonies?”

“Yes?” he asked, sliding a glance sideways down at Jay. His shoulders had tensed, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his jacket in a way that put S’aad on alert. There was more to this question than simple curiosity. “What about it?”

Jay’s expression darkened, his eyes flashing with… something for a moment. “Well… what if they don’t want to be matched? What if they don’t want to be in the program at all?”

The vehemence in Jay’s voice took him aback. “It’s voluntary. No one is forced into the program. I would assume that if they don’t want to be matched, they would continue to serve their sentences where they are.” He tilted his head, watching the human carefully. “Why?”

For a moment, it seemed Jay might say more, but then he shook his head, his expression closing off. “It’s nothing. Just… it seems like a system that could be easily abused. That’s all.”

S’aad nodded, letting it go, but he made a mental note to follow up on this later. There was more to Jay’s reaction than he was letting on. He just knew it.

“We’re nearly there,” he murmured as they neared the coordinates Maax had provided.

S’aad’s senses sharpened, the warrior taking over from the scientist. The intersection ahead was small and dimly lit, perfect for a clandestine meeting… or for being ambushed. He spotted Maax’s hulking form in the shadows and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I thought I said to come alone,” Maax growled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jay.

S’aad moved to put himself between the big engineer and Jay. “He’s my assistant. I’ll vouch for him. He’s been a big help already, and I think he can help us as well.”

Maax’s expression remained skeptical, but he gave a gruff nod. “Fine. But this doesn’t leave the three of us. Understood?”

Both S’aad and Jay nodded.

Maax’s voice dropped to a near whisper, the low rumble barely audible over the ambient hum of the station. “I didn’t want to risk this conversation being recorded. The information you sent me, S’aad… You were right. The discrepancies aren’t the coding mistakes they look like. Or rather, there are coding mistakes, but they’re hiding what look like deliberate changes.”

S’aad’s stomach tightened, a cold weight settling in his chest. He’d suspected as much, but having it confirmed made the situation all too real. And dangerous. “Someone has access to the systems and is making these alterations on purpose?”

Maax nodded grimly. “Exactly. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why. There doesn’t seem to be any discernible pattern to the changes.”

“Do any of the alterations involve actual matches?” S’aad asked, his mind racing through possibilities.

Maax shook his head. “No, not that I can see. All the changes involve files of individuals who haven’t been matched yet.”

S’aad frowned, but the pieces refused to fall into place. He glanced at Jay.

“Okay, can you send me everything you have on the changes. I’ll get Jay to look through it. A new set of eyes might help us see a link we’re missing.”

Maax’s eyebrow winged up almost to his hairline as he looked between S’aad and Jay. “A human? No offense, kid, but the logic involved here is incredibly complex. I doubt?—”

“Jay has already solved three persistent issues I’ve had with data analysis since this morning,” S’aad interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “He spotted an inconsistency in the RCT amplification protocol that was causing a point-zero-three percent error rate in the genetic sequencing.”

Maax’s eyebrows shot up, clearly impressed despite himself. He turned to Jay, reassessing the human with new respect. “Is that true?”

Jay shrugged, but a hint of pride colored his voice. “Yes, sir. I’ve always had a knack for patterns and problem-solving. If you’ll let me take a look at the data, I promise I’ll do my best to help.”

The engineer considered for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll reconvene in three days with whatever we find. But remember—absolute discretion is crucial. We have no idea who might be behind this or what their motives are.”

Jade’s stomach growled as she trailed after S’aad through the bustling market on the way back to their quarters. The day’s events left her barely managing to stay upright, dragging her feet along. The tantalizing aromas wafting from the various food stalls perked her up a bit, making her mouth water.

S’aad walked ahead of her. His towering form parted the crowds in front of him like water around a ship’s prow. She felt small and out of place in comparison, tugging nervously at the hem of her oversized jacket as she followed close behind him like a baby chick with its mama.

He glanced back at her, his green eyes piercing. “Hungry?”

She nodded silently, yawning so widely she almost cracked her jaw. Highly attractive, not… but it was a total boy move.

“Good. We’ll grab something before returning to our quarters for the night.” He gestured toward a nearby food stand.

The vendor—a squat, reptilian creature with iridescent scales—greeted them with clicks and whistles. After a second’s delay, her translation implant S’aad had given her earlier converted it into words she could actually understand.

“What’ll it be, folks? Best burgers this side of the galaxy!” the vendor chirped enthusiastically.

“Two specials, please,” S’aad rumbled as he approached the counter, his towering frame dwarfing the alien vendor.

Jade watched, amazed, as the vendor’s multiple arms flew into action, assembling their meal with practiced efficiency. Within moments, two peculiar-looking concoctions were placed before them, wrapped in a paper wrapper that shimmered under the lights.

“Here you go,” S’aad said, handing one to her. “It’s a local delicacy.”

She eyed it warily. The “burger” was a startling shade of green, nestled between halves of a mottled cream and purple bun that bore an unsettling resemblance to a fresh bruise. She should know. She’d had enough of them courtesy of Mr. Morgan. But the smell, a blend of savory and sweet, made her mouth water despite her brain’s reservations.

“It’s… interesting looking,” she managed.

S’aad’s lips quirked. “Don’t let appearances fool you. It’s very good. I assure you.”

She watched as he took a large bite of his burger, nearly half of it gone in one go. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The first bite was a revelation. Whatever the meat was, it was tender and juicy with a flavor that danced across her tongue. The bun, despite its bruise-like appearance, had a subtle sweetness that made her moan in delight.

“This is… actually really good,” she admitted, taking another eager bite.

S’aad nodded, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes the best things in life are the ones we’re initially wary of,” he said, his gaze lingering on her for a moment.

As they continued to eat, she found herself relaxing slightly. A full stomach helped a lot with anxiety. S’aad turned to the vendor. “How’s things, Kreeva? The business still thriving? Family good?”

Kreeva’s eyes gleamed with pride. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it! I’m a grandfather again… for the hundred and second time!”

Her lips parted, and she leaned in as Kreeva produced a holographic image from the inside pocket of his coat.

“Here, look at the last five,” he rumbled, gesturing to what appeared to be a cluster of leathery spheres. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Those are… Are those eggs ?”

S’aad’s lips twitched with amusement. “They are. Were you expecting something else?”

She flicked a glance at him, her cheeks burning.

“I guess I thought… well, I’m not sure what I thought,” she admitted, biting her lip. “I’ve never seen alien babies… eggs before.”

S’aad’s green eyes sparkled with amusment as he crowded closer.

“And what are you used to, little one?” he asked, his voice dropping deeper.

Her breath caught at the tone of his voice, and she swallowed hard before answering, “Well… humans have babies. I’ve never seen…” she gestured at the picture, “outside of a nature documentary about reptiles.”

Kreeva’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her more closely. “Ah, forgive me, young miss. I should have realized you were human. Your species is still quite new to us.”

Her heart leaped into her throat.

“Miss?” she squeaked, panic rising in her chest. Her cheeks flamed with heat and she forced her voice back down to a lower register. “I’m… I’m not…”

Kreeva’s multicolored eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! My deepest apologies, young sir,” he said with a bow. “I meant no disrespect. I’m still learning to distinguish human genders. Please forgive my mistake.”

Her gaze darted to S’aad, skittering away from his face quickly. Her heart hammered against her ribs. Had he noticed? Did he suspect she’d lied to him?

“No harm done,” he said smoothly, resting a hand on her shoulder. The warm weight of it felt like an anchor, both comforting and terrifying. “Human genders can be difficult for other species to discern sometimes.”

Kreeva nodded enthusiastically, clearly eager to move past his faux pas. “Indeed, indeed. Now, as I was saying about my grandchildren…”

The conversation shifted back to Kreeva’s expanding family, but she struggled to focus. Her mind raced, replaying the moment of her near-exposure over and over until she felt sick. She barely registered Kreeva’s words as he launched into a detailed account of his older grandchildren’s accomplishments.

S’aad listened patiently, though. His questions made it clear he knew Kreeva well. Jade nodded along, trying to appear engaged in the conversation even as her insides were a snake pit of anxiety.

“My eldest granddaughter, Treeva, just received her first command.” Kreeva beamed, his chest puffing with pride. “A small scout ship, but it’s a start.”

S’aad nodded. “That’s really good for her age. The Rell council must see a lot of potential in her.”

“Oh, they do,” Kreeva agreed. “And my grandson, Preeva, is showing a real interest for xeno-botany. Can you believe it? He’s only fifty and already cultivating rare gvygonian orchids!”

She frowned. “I’m sorry… did you say ‘only’ fifty? How long do your people typically live?”

Kreeva chuckled, his multifaceted eyes twinkling. “Ah, young one, we Rell can live for centuries. Preeva is little more than a child by our standards.”

“Oh my,” she breathed and glanced at S’aad. Did the Lathar live that long as well?

S’aad caught her look and grinned. “We aren’t quite as long-lived, but we do live longer than unaltered humans.”

She couldn’t help herself, the question out before she could stop it. “What do you mean, unaltered?”

S’aad shrugged. “Humanity descended from the Lathar, so it’s a simple genetic fix to make you live as long as we do.”

More customers queued up for Kreeva’s food, and the Rell winked at her before he turned to serve them. She waved goodbye before following S’aad through the market. It was a riot of colors and textures with beings of all shapes and sizes haggling over exotic wares. The air was thick with the scent of spices and the hum of a hundred different languages. She was enjoying herself until she spotted a familiar face among the throng, and a chill ran down her spine. Reav sauntered into the market, flanked by his cronies. Their predatory gazes swept across the area, and she instinctively ducked behind S’aad’s broad back, out of sight.

The big Latharian turned to talk to her and, realizing she wasn’t at his side, half turned around.

“Don’t look at me,” she squeaked, grabbing his arm so he couldn’t.

“What’s going on, little one?” he murmured, following her line of sight as she peeked around his arm. He stiffened as he saw the gang. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “They won’t try anything here if they know what’s good for them.”

She watched Reav and his gang weave through the crowd with a predatory grace, like a wolf pack after it’s prey.

Reav’s eyes locked on to S’aad, and a mixture of recognition and challenge flashed across his features. The gang fanned out around them.

“Stay behind me,” S’aad murmured, his voice carrying an edge of steel she hadn’t heard before as he stepped forward, putting himself between her and the gang.

“Reav.” S’aad’s voice was low and dangerous, a growl that sent shivers down her spine. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Reav’s lips curled into a sneer as he looked the older Latharian up and down. S’aad couldn’t have been much older than him, perhaps late twenties, but for some reason the way he moved and acted made him seem much older.

“Understanding? Oh, we understand perfectly. Don’t we, boys?”

A chorus of malicious chuckles rippled through the gang.

“We understand that you think you can tell us what to do, where we can go. And that’s not on, old man.”

“The market is neutral ground,” S’aad stated, his tone brooking no argument. “You and your… associates are welcome here, as long as you behave and don’t bother any of the marketgoers or vendors.”

Reav took another step forward, invading S’aad’s personal space.

Jade’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the gang leader’s hand twitch toward something concealed in his jacket.

“And if we don’t want to behave?” Reav sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “What’s an old imperial warrior like you going to do about it?”

The standoff stretched for an eternity, S’aad and Reav locking eyes with each other in a battle of wills. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she watched the rest of the gang in case they all decided to rush S’aad at once. She couldn’t do much if they did. They were all huge… much bigger than she was. But at least she could warn S’aad.

Just as the tension reached its breaking point, the sound of heavy boots and the crackle of comm units cut through the silence. Before Reav and his gang could scatter and disappear into the warren of corridors around the market, security officers flooded into the space en masse, a mix of Latharian warriors and the massive horned aliens that she’d glimpsed before but never seen up close.

Like most bullies, Reav’s bravado crumbled as he realized he and his gang were outnumbered. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape route, but there wasn’t one. The security team had them surrounded.

“Stand down,” commanded a huge Latharian warrior, his voice booming across the market. “You’re in violation of station regulations.”

Reav snarled, his hand inching toward his jacket again. “We ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You can’t touch us!”

The security officer’s eyes narrowed. “Last warning. Stand down or we’ll be forced to restrain you.”

For a tense moment, it seemed Reav might actually be stupid enough to fight. His muscles bunched as if he was ready to lunge. But then one of his lackeys grabbed his arm, muttering something too low for Jade to hear. Reav’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Fine,” he spat, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We’re done here anyway.”

As the security team escorted Reav and his gang away, Jade felt her knees go weak. She leaned against a nearby stall, trying to steady herself without drawing attention.

Saad turned to her, concern etched on his features. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice little more than a soft rumble.

She nodded, forcing herself to stand upright even though she was still shaking.

“I’m fine,” she managed, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.

S’aad’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned to speak to the warrior who had ordered Reav to stand down.

“V’Renn,” the big Latharian greeted, his tone respectful but tinged with exasperation. “I see you’ve managed to find trouble again.”

S’aad sighed tiredly. “Trouble has a way of finding me recently, it seems. Jay, this is Z’yan, our chief of security. Z’yan, this is Jay, my new assistant.”

Z’yan’s eyes flicked toward her, his dark eyes seeming to see right through her. Her breath caught in her throat as he frowned, convinced that S’aad was the only person on this station who couldn’t see through her disguise. “Well met, Jay,” he said with a nod.

S’aad and Z’yan exchanged a few more words, discussing the incident with Reav’s gang. She tried to focus on their conversation, but the adrenaline crash left her feeling shaky and disconnected.

“We’ll increase patrols in this sector,” Z’yan was saying. “These gangs are becoming more brazen. We can’t let them think they can operate with impunity.”

S’aad nodded. “Agreed. Keep me informed of any developments.”

“Will do. Stay safe, V’Renn. You too, Jay.” Z’yan’s gaze flicked to her once more, causing her to tense, but then he turned to leave.

As Z’yan strode away, S’aad turned to her, watching her with a frown between his brows. “Let’s head back to our quarters. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Jade nodded gratefully and fell into step beside S’aad as they made their way out of the market. The bustling crowd that had seemed so vibrant and welcoming now felt oppressive and full of danger, and she found herself moving closer to S’aad for protection.

They walked in silence for a while, the tension from the confrontation slowly ebbing away. As they neared their quarters, S’aad looked at her.

“I’m sorry you had to experience that, Jay,” he said softly. “The station is generally safe, but there are always elements that…”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted with a shrug, her voice gruff. “I’ve seen worse than that.”

Way worse, but he didn’t know that. Didn’t need to know that.

S’aad’s eyebrows rose, but thankfully he didn’t press for details. Instead, he nodded and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Get some rest,” S’aad said as they entered their quarters. “Tomorrow is another day, and we have a lot of work to do.”

She nodded, somehow managing a small smile. “Thanks. Night,” she said and escaped to the sanctuary of her room.

“Oh, Jay…”

She paused and looked over her shoulder to find S’aad watching her with an odd look in his eyes.

“I will not enter your room unless you invite me, so please sleep in the bed tonight, not the closet.”