Gyft (Rescued by the Alien)

Chapter Two

GYFT, HIGH COMMANDER of the Kashian fleet:

“I LOOK FORWARD to meeting you in person, my bride.”

Bridezilla is more like it. She is mannerless.

While I chose her for her brightly ruby-jeweled, human equivalent of freelig that grows from her head, I didn’t expect her face to have black smudged eyes. Or black lips, which made her teeth look oddly yellow. Two slashes underneath her cheekbones of the same darkness make the bones look sharp and prominent. She’s hard, sharp angles everywhere.

She looks like a ghoul that comes to collect souls to take across the deadlands to the ever-after.

She doesn’t bother to respond, though the translation came across in her own language. I’m sure it was explained to her that whatever she speaks is translated across my viewing board written in mine. That the translation works both ways.

Such a barbaric, ill-mannered species, and yet I was forced to choose one. Not much of a choice as our king had stressed the relationship be of either the leader’s daughter or the one of his second-in-command—the female who sobbed with relief during the entire ceremony that she hadn’t been chosen.

But then the lights flash on the viewing screen and human males run for the shuttle she just entered.

I grip the comm controls in front of me, lifting my head just a little for more visibility. Two of the human guards reach the shuttle door and bang on it, but they’re forced to step back when sparks fly from the base.

A siren wails on their end and Prominent Admiral Nash barks a command to shut down the alarm before remembering I’m present.

“What’s going on with the shuttle?” I ask.

Too late, I realize my slip up. Not with my bride. But with the shuttle. No one catches the mistake.

“It appears the coordinates have shifted,” he says, his lips tight. “We’re sending the new destination to you now.”

The final location points flutter across the viewing screen. Quickly, we map out the general area where she’ll arrive on our planet.

The edge of the deadlands, thankfully far enough from the borders for safety... well, unless she shifts with the winds.

“Well.” I frown, even though he can’t see my face. “That’s not good. What in the world went wrong on your end? Is this some sort of trickery?”

“No,” the male splutters. “I would not have offered my own daughter if I suspected any of the safety guards would fail—”

I cut him off. “We’ll be lucky to fish my bride out alive,” I tell him, before ending the viewing with the push of a button.

Idiots.

When the viewing screen goes black, I flip back my hood.

“She’ll be fine,” Minniel says, angling the more scarred side of his face away from me. “The Earthlings assured us the shuttle locks are engaged and the ship will remain with low level power for a week while she sleeps. You will be able to open it when you arrive.” He claps me on the back. “Like a bridal present waiting to be unwrapped.”

Just not to my doorstep.

I wasn’t looking forward to this merger between our planet and Earth. Especially not when I found out I was the offered male. I imagine we’ll consummate once—and hold back my shudder at the thought of those black lips—and I can set her up in her own house .

But in the meantime, we’ll have this technology that a backward planet of insects have managed to develop. Technology that costs us dearly... no one wanted this hideous creature for a bride.

“I guess I’d better prepare for the trip.”

It will take at six or seven rotations to travel, and our cold season arrives. We have ten each year and we’re only in season four. She should arrive when it warms. I have two choices. I can travel there now, and sit and wait through the cold season. Or I can wait out the cold in the luxury of my own home, and travel the day after it ends. Arrive at the deadlands in the warmth of the sun, pack up my sleeping unbeauty , and we’ll board the ship to come back here long before the next cold wave hits.

No sense in suffering through the weather.

“What’s that look on your face?” Minniel says, his eyes narrowing on me. I force my features to relax and grow blank.

“Nothing. I’ll collect her and fulfill my end of the bargain. Once.”

“Once?”

I nod. “I’ve already petitioned for a dissolution. It should go through in about one rain season. By then, I’ll have collected her, consummated our brief mating, and all that’s left is the decree. I’m sure she’ll understand that we might not want to mention this to Earth, and that she can continue to do as she pleases here.”

“And did you mention that she’ll be ridiculed as a female scorned?”

I wave my hand as if the fact that males don’t petition for dissolution isn’t well known. It’s not like it’ll affect her anyway. I’m sure she won’t care about social standing.

“What will you do when someone tries to force her to become a slave?”

I bristle, not liking the way he phrases it. “It won’t come to that. She’ll stay in our city. It’s all she’ll know, after all.” Why wouldn’t she stay? I’m providing for her. It’s the least I can do.

But Minniel simply raises an arched brow. “We’ll see. ”

I scowl at his obstinance. It’s not like he volunteered to take on the bride from Earth. We all know what excuse he probably used... no female would want such an ugly, scarred male despite his high command. “I’m doing my duty. If it were up to me, I’d say allow the lot of them to get wiped out by the Bril’tioks. Why the humans thought they could reach out to anyone in the universe and find a benevolent species is idiocy.”

Instead, they contacted a lawless species who always try to bend the Global Galaxy’s rules. A species that considers flesh of sentient beings a delicacy, and Earth practically offered their entire planet on a platter.

“Idiots or not, they’ve stumbled upon a way to cut travel time by safely traveling through black holes without gravitational implosion. They’ve managed to contact other life despite their primitive sound wave methods. We’ll save them because no one, not even the Bril’tioks, know about the shuttle they’re about to send your bride on.”

The Earthlings are smart enough to have a built-in explosive in their device, which is triggered whenever their robotics reach an exploratory planet after traveling through worm holes. But this time, this one time with the lead scientist’s own daughter on board, will the shuttle land without a detonation device for safety reasons. This is our one and only shot to study the shuttle.

And, of course, we’ll keep our end of the bargain and protect them from the Bril’tioks, a situation their foolish leaders got them into.

“In any case, her father is sending a read of her DNA,” Minniel says. “Once it arrives, we’ll be able to track her whereabouts and zero in on her long enough to download the language.”

“But a remote download takes so long to incorporate after the satellite laser finds her.”

He shrugs. “It can’t be helped. It’s simply a backup plan, anyway. You can retrieve her and bring her in for a real-time version and she’ll have it immediately. ”

The frown tightens my forehead. If I have one week of freedom left, and it’s the week before the storms hit, I’ll enjoy my time.

The bride can wait out the cold season in her comfy little shuttle.