Kringl (Rescued by the Alien)

Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

K ringl strode back toward the ship, his mind churning. Everything about the village and its leader was wrong. He’d been to many alien worlds, but none set his teeth on edge the way this one did. Maybe it was the mask of levity that clearly disguised something dark bubbling beneath the surface. He despised subterfuge, although he was not a stranger to it. Give him an honest battle any day over a sweet web of lies.

As he approached the ship, Kringl debated their options. Part of him wanted to order an immediate departure, to leave this unsettling place behind and find another planet for repairs. But could their damaged vessel even achieve liftoff? And if they did manage to leave, would they have enough power to reach another habitable world?

Doubtful. His crew had assured him that the ship needed major repairs, which would not be swift. His only hope was that they could fix enough of the damage to escape and splutter their way to another stop. Would losing power in space be preferable to being stranded on the unusual ice world? After meeting the bizarre leader of the village, he was starting to think floating in space would be preferable.

He strode onto his ship with his crew mates close at his heels. Once he’d dismissed them and shrugged off his cloak, he made his way to the bridge, where he found Zaan bent over a console with a wrinkled brow.

"Your Highness," Zaan straightened when he spotted him, “how did you find the village?"

Kringl's ran a hand through his hair. "Troubling. Something is not right there. The leader, this 'Velsnickel,' invited us to join their celebration, but…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Zaan's mouth pulled down. "Do you believe we're in danger?"

"I'm not certain, but I don't like it. What's our status? Can we leave if we need to?"

The first officer's gaze dropped. "I'm afraid not, Your Highness. The damage is extensive. We don't have enough power to achieve escape velocity, let alone reach another system. We sent out a hail before we crashed, but I fear it might not have been transmitted. This planet has some kind of communication dampener, which is why we didn’t detect its occupants before we landed.”

Kringl bit back a groan. They were well and truly trapped at least for the time being. He squared his shoulders, pushing aside the nagging worry. "How long until repairs are complete?"

"We're working as fast as we can, but at least a full rotation.”

Kringl nodded, trying to project confidence he didn't entirely feel. “Understood. We have encountered more dangerous species than the ones on this world. I am sure we will be fine here.”

“Do we truly need to join in their festival?” Zaan glanced at his console, clearly eager to return to work.

Kringl didn’t care what the alien leader had requested. Repairing his ship and leaving was the top priority. “No. All essential personnel should continue with repairs. I will take a small contingent to the celebration to appease the village’s ruler.”

The last thing Kringl wished to do was pretend to enjoy festivities that did not feel at all festive, but he was a prince of the Valorian Empire making first contact with an alien world. He would maintain the peace.

Leaving the bridge, Kringl took long strides toward the ship's hold. He needed to take stock of their supplies to ensure they had enough to sustain the crew during repairs without relying on the village's hospitality. He tapped the door to the hold, and it slid open. The hold was not frequently accessed, so he was not surprised by the cool, stale air. He was surprised by a faint rustling sound. He paused, listening intently, but heard nothing further.

Was he imagining things? Was his concern about the planet making him paranoid?

Kringl's eyes narrowed as he peered into the dark. He was certain he'd heard something, but now there was only silence His hand drifted to the blaster he’d returned to his hip as he scanned the shadowy shapes. Stacks of crates and containers cast deep shadows but gave no hint of anything more.

Making a show of sighing heavily, Kringl stepped inside on silent feet. "I suppose I'll have to come back later to do the inventory." He let the door close, enveloping him in darkness, then he held his breath and waited.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe the stress was finally getting to him. Then, from behind a stack of crates, came the unmistakable sound of a relieved exhale.

In an instant, Kringl sprang forward. He rounded the crates, expecting to find one of the small aliens from the village. The creature crouched down was small, but she was not one of the spiky-toothed elves dressed in pointy shoes. She was female—human, by the looks of her—with pale hair and wide, frightened eyes that peered at him.

Kringl crossed his arms over his chest, fixing the intruder with a stern gaze. "Why are you hiding in my hold?"

The female jerked to her feet, pressing herself back against the crates as if trying to disappear into them. "I…I'm sorry," she stammered before stiffening her spine and jutting out her chin. "My name is Joy. I've come to beg for asylum."

This was not what he’d expected. She wasn’t a saboteur? A moment’s relief gave way to exasperation. A stowaway was the last thing they needed in their current situation. And yet, the genuine fear in the female's eyes tugged at something deep within him. His protective instincts, honed by years of battle training, began to stir.

"Asylum?" he repeated. "From what?"

Joy took a shaky breath, her words tumbling out in a rush. "The village—it's not what it seems. It isn’t merry, and we can’t leave." Her voice cracked. "Velsnickel and his elves escaped from the North Pole because apparently Santa Claus is real, and they didn’t like having to make toys. They managed to leave the planet and reach this ice world where they established their own anti-North Pole.”

Kringl knew what little of this meant. Santa Claus? North Pole? Then he remembered Velsnickel asking him if he’d been sent by Santa.

“Then my ship ended up having to stop here on the way to an outpost, and he made us stay. Velsnickel is paranoid about being tracked down by Santa. He’s convinced that he’ll be taken back to Earth and put on the Naughty List for life. That’s why no one can leave.”

“What of this celebration?” Kringl asked.

Joy rolled her eyes. “Velsnickel is twisted. He makes every day Christmas Eve, but he never allows it to be Christmas. I guess it’s his F-you to Santa, not that the real Santa will ever know. It might sound fun, living in an eternal holiday, but it's not. It's awful. Please, I'm begging you. Take me with you when you leave. I want a real life, and I want to save the rest of my people.”

As she spoke, Joy took a hesitant step forward, reaching out to touch Kringl's arm. The moment her fingers made contact with his skin, Kringl felt a jolt. His pulse quickened, and his mouth went dry.

Part of him knew that helping her could bring untold complications. They were already in a precarious position, and harboring a fugitive from their hosts would only make things worse. And yet, as he looked at Joy, he knew he couldn't turn her away.

Kringl jerked away from her, spinning around and running a hand through his hair. This was madness. He was a prince with responsibilities to his crew and his people. He couldn't risk everything for one human female, no matter how compelling her story or how much her touch affected him.

But when he turned back to face her and saw the hope warring with fear in her eyes, Kringl knew he was already lost.