Kringl (Rescued by the Alien)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

P rince Kringl groaned as the ship shuddered violently, lurching to one side and sending him stumbling against the curved, metal wall of the bridge. Warning sirens blared as red emergency lights bathed the command center in an eerie glow.

“What was that?” He pushed himself upright and wiped his hands down the front of his dark pants. His blue skin tingled with adrenaline, the golden royal tattoos on his arms and chest seeming to shimmer in the pulsing crimson light.

His first officer, Zaan, fingers flying over the flickering control panel, shook his head grimly. “An unexpected energy pulse triggered multiple system failures, Your Highness. We've lost primary propulsion, and life support will fail. We need to set down immediately."

Kringl's jaw clenched as he gazed out the forward viewport at the blue-white orb of the planet looming before them. Engine trouble was the last thing he needed on their return trip home. He was expected by his father, and the king would not be pleased by this delay. However, it seemed they had no choice but to attempt an emergency landing. That is, if he wanted to see his father again. Kringl pushed aside thoughts of his ailing father, the long-reigning monarch of his planet.

"What do we know of this world?" he asked, trying to keep the tension from his voice. A prince must remain calm in a crisis, even if he really wanted to slam his fist into one of the steel walls of the ship’s interior.

Zaan frowned at his console. "Very little, I'm afraid. Our scans are being blocked, possibly by interference from the planet's atmosphere or surface. We're picking up signs of a small settlement, but beyond that..." He spread his blue hands wide.

Kringl nodded. They had no choice, even if the last thing he wanted was another encounter with an alien world. More diplomacy? More contact with creatures who were not Valorian? He had hoped to be done with that.

“Take us in. Aim for a landing site near the settlement. Perhaps the inhabitants can offer aid."

As the ship began its shaky descent through the planet's atmosphere, Kringl found his thoughts drifting to his father. The aging king had tasked Kringl with more than just a diplomatic mission to strengthen the planet’s bonds with allies, although no one knew what his father had whispered to him before he’d departed. No one else knew that his father was desperate for his son to find a worthy mate, someone who could rule at Kringl's side when he ascended to the throne. It was why the king wished him to return swiftly. It was why Valorian females had been paraded in front of him before he’d left.

Kringl rubbed a hand across his forehead. Too many females from too many illustrious Valorian families. And none of them had sparked even the faintest interest within him. Was that his fate—to be bound to a female he barely knew and did not love? His stomach churned, although that fate seemed less impending now that they hurtled toward a foreign planet. Kringl gripped the arms of his chair as the ship bucked and rattled, the hull groaning ominously as they plunged through thick cloud cover.

When they finally broke through, the pale hue of the clouds was replaced by the blinding white landscape that appeared unending. Snow-capped mountains ringed the horizon of the ice world, and directly ahead lay a flat expanse. Kringl released a breath. It was perfect for a landing, if a rough one.

"There!" Zaan pointed to a cluster of structures barely visible in the distance. "The settlement. I'm setting us down within walking distance.”

Kringl braced his arms on the nearest console as the ship made its final approach. Their engines spluttered before dying, and the vessel skidded across the icy ground before finally grinding to a halt against a snowbank. Only heavy, released breaths joined the creaking of stressed metal as the ship settled.

"We're down in one piece," Zaan reported, "but the damage is extensive. We won't be taking off again without significant repairs."

Kringl's shoulders slumped slightly, but he quickly straightened. They were alive, and that was what mattered. This meant a delay, but nothing more than that. He flicked his gaze to the atmospheric readings of the planet, grateful that the air was compatible. He was not thrilled about the temperature, but he would not freeze to death. He glanced at his bare chest. As soon as he donned a cloak.

“I’ll lead a landing party to the settlement.” The aliens of the world would have seen their arrival. Better to extend greetings than to be met with a hostile force. Kringl was a trained warrior, but he preferred diplomacy to killing. “Have the rest of the crew begin damage assessment and repairs."

Zaan gave him a brief bow before Kringl strode off the bridge and toward the descending ramp. He retrieved a cloak from a storage closet and a blaster from a weapons locker as the other Valorians joined him. When the ramp touched down and sent a puff of snow into the air, he tugged his cloak closer and strode down onto the alien world.

The cold hit him like a physical blow as he took his first breath of the planet's frigid air, and icy fingers reached into his lungs. This was nothing like the warm, humid climate of Valoria, although Kringl preferred the cold to the fiery surface of the last planet they’d visited. That encounter had nearly left the soles of his boots melted.

He cut his gaze to his feet as the snow made a satisfying crunch beneath his boots. The leaden sky above cast everything in a flat, gray light that made the white landscape seem to glow faintly. An eerie quiet blanketed the scene, broken only by the soft whisper of wind and…

Kringl cocked his head, straining his ears. Yes, there it was—the faint sound of music drifting on the breeze. He tensed for a beat, but it was not a war chant or a battle litany. It was, however, upbeat and energetic, and the song seemed to beckon from the distant settlement.

He should have been relieved. They had crash landed on an unknown world, yet fortune had smiled upon them. Not only had they touched down near an inhabited area, but the music suggested a peaceful populace. It was more than they could have hoped for in their situation.

And yet…

As the cheery music floated across the tundra, an inexplicable sense of foreboding settled in his gut, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. They should return to the ship. He should order the entire party to turn around. They should not take one more step toward the village.

He shook his head, trying to banish the feeling. He was being ridiculous. They were stranded, and the settlement ahead might be able to offer assistance. There was no reason for him to worry.

"Let's move out," he called to the small team behind him, even as his chest tightened.

As they trekked across the crunching snow, Kringl couldn't shake the sensation that unseen eyes were watching their every step. The cheerful music seemed to mock him now, like the lure of a beautiful flower that hid deadly poison.

With each step that brought them closer to the village, Kringl's sense of dread grew. By the time the first outlying structures came into view, his hand had unconsciously drifted to rest on the hilt of his blaster.

His step slowed as he took in the quaint and picturesque dwellings—wooden cottages with steep, pointed roofs to shed the heavy snows, and shutters carved in ornamental designs. Warm light spilled from windows edged with frost, and garlands of greenery adorned every door. At the center of it all stood an enormous evergreen tree, festooned with twinkling lights and shimmering decorations.

It was so serene and idyllic that Kringl should have laughed at his earlier apprehension. Clearly his nerves were simply frayed from the crash and the stress of being delayed. What possible threat could this charming village pose?

Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, movement at the edge of his vision made him tense. Small figures were emerging from the cottages, shuffling through the snow toward them. Their faces were obscured by the hoods of crimson, fur-trimmed coats, but there was something off about their gaits, something not quite right.

Kringl pulled out his blaster, even though he did not raise it. He did not wish to provoke a battle, and he saw no weapons in the hands of the miniature creatures. The joyful music swelled, seeming to come from all around them now, and his own unease was mirrored in the faces of his team.

One of the hooded figures stepped forward, tilting its head back to reveal a pale, wizened face with unnaturally bright-blue, glittering eyes. The creature grinned, exposing rows of pointed teeth.

"Welcome, travelers.” The voice was high and reedy. "Velsnickel will be so pleased you've arrived in time for the celebration."

Kringl swallowed hard, his earlier sense of dread slamming into him. What in the seven hells had they stumbled into?