Sarazen's Claim, Book One Read online

  Sarazen’s claim

  Book One

  By

  Isabel Wroth

  Acknowledgements

  The completion and publishing of this book would not be possible without my two most amazingly supportive, talented, inspirational and beloved friends. Sheila, and Shelda. You’re the very best, and life would never have been the same without you. Muwah!

  Copyright © 2016 by Isabel Wroth

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places are entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review.

  All quotations used in this book are part of public domain works and/or translated copies existing in public domain. The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.

  This book contains mature content, including graphic sex, language, and violence. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.

  One

  She stood at the viewing window with the handful of others who had survived the horror, still not quite able to come to grips with what had happened.

  Their ship had been attacked by a rogue race of aliens not yet recorded in their limited database, and a second ship had shown up out of nowhere to blow the first ship out of the sky. But not before the slimy, wet, foul smelling creatures aboard the first ship had boarded them and gone on a killing rampage the likes of which she'd only seen in old horror vids. Her ears were still ringing with the screams and the wet, meaty sounds of bodies being ripped apart.

  There had been over eight thousand crew members aboard the Aria, there were nine left. Nine, of eight thousand. The initial blasts from the attacking ship had apparently ripped open the crew decks and most of the casualties had been sucked out into space. She'd barricaded herself and any other person she could find not panicking, into the med lab and taken the escape hatch down into one of the shuttles. They'd all heard the screaming, the wet sucking sounds that blasted in disgusting surround sound, and barely able to fly the damn thing, she hadn't known which button to push to turn it off.

  She'd headed towards the asteroid moon close by, not knowing what else to do, and had nearly died from a heart attack when a hologram had suddenly appeared across the viewing screen and some massive mountain of a man had instructed her to stop and await their assistance rather than risk capture by the creatures he called, the Na'ah. The male was massive, even in hologram form he filled up the cabin with the glimmer of his presence, and he looked like an Old Earth Rugby Player and a Viking had gotten together and had offspring. A mountain of a man, with mountains of muscle, and a hip length mohawk that left the tattooed sides of his head bare and the stark, sharp lines of his face in plain relief. He'd barked out orders at them and in her frozen state of terror, she'd just blindly obeyed him.

  The nine survivors she'd gathered up had watched in horrified awe as the attacking ship had been blown to bits of space junk. The com system had finally shut off and the shuttle had been filled with deafening silence, until the others had started whispering about what was going to happen to them next. Six women, three men, adrift in space in a shuttle not equipped for much more than planet to ship transport, they had few options left for survival. Float around in space until they starved to death, or run out of power and then freeze to death. Or, allow themselves to be taken by the mountain man and his people and be completely at their mercy.

  By fate's cruel hand, she turned out to be the senior officer, and her eight crew members turned their wide, terrified eyes to her to make a decision. "What do we do?" They asked, and it was like she opened her mouth and someone else's voice came out. "Whatever we have to, to survive."

  Their shuttle had been caught by the larger vessel, and when they had opened the back hatch and disembarked, it was to a welcome of over fifty massive mountains of male bodies in full on, shining battle armor. The mountain they'd seen on the hologram approached her, standing almost a foot and a half taller than her and gruffly introduced himself as Commander Tarek, "How many crew are aboard your vessel?" He'd barked, and in her numb state of shock, she'd heard herself answer without really being aware that she was capable of such calm when she felt so...hysterical. "Eight thousand," His bright, nearly glowing gold eyes had snapped from her, to each of the crew trying to huddle behind her, and back so quick it almost hurt. "Your name, female."

  "Lieutenant First Class, Clary Starborn."

  "You are responsible for your people?"

  "I'm the highest ranking officer, yes."

  "Good. My warriors are mobilizing to board your ship and destroy the remaining Na'ah,"

  He called the foul smelling snake things by name, spitting the word like it was the vilest curse his lips could form. Naugh, "If any of your people are found, we will bring them here. You will be escorted to temporary quarters and our medics will attend you and treat any injuries you have sustained. You are in no danger, and we mean no harm. However, we will not hesitate to incapacitate you or your people if you offer any resistance or violence."

  She thanked him, sincerely and he tilted his head, narrowing those leonine eyes on her in an uncomfortably frank stare and turned his head to the side to bark something out in what she assumed was their native language, without ever taking his eyes off of her. "Come." She moved, falling into step beside him and glancing back when two more of his people fell in behind hers, herding the frightened crew like children. The Commander barked out orders as he passed, and it seemed like she blinked, and the hangar bay full of armored mountains disappeared.

  Two

  She focused on anything she could to keep herself calm, when all she wanted to do was fall apart. She had rank, because she was a science officer. She studied plants and animals, in a lab. She didn't do warfare, didn't know how to lead anyone, she spent most of her days with her face attached to a microscope. Now here she was, on an alien ship, in charge of the survivors of a horrific alien battle in which every person she knew and interacted with on a daily basis was gone. In charge, of those survivors because she had two more chevrons on her arm than they did. She had to stay calm. She had to show no emotion. She had to stay, calm. Calm, until she was alone. Then, she could give in to the tearing devastation of what had just happened, away from her terrified crew mates who were apparently looking to her to lead them.

  The hallways of the ship were massive seeming, but then they would have to be to accommodate the big alien warriors who manned the vessel. They were smooth, but every hundred feet there was a doorway and thick pieces of metal on either side with several holes cut out in what she assumed were defensible positions. There were also curved indentions in the floor and the ceiling above them, like foxholes that would easily provide cover for at least two warriors. "This is a warship?" She asked, like she usually did, without thinking, and the massive Commander beside her looked down and the barest hint of a smile edged his lips. "Sarazens have no other kind of ships." He rumbled, the sound filling the corridor like static electricity. She nodded, glancing back to see that her people were clinging to one another, pale, flinching in fear and huddling together every time one of the warriors beside them had to shift closer to step around the bulkeds.

  They turned a sharp corner then, and the Commander lifted his palm towards the wall, it depressed and slid back to reveal a massive medical bay. It didn't seem like it had been that long of a walk, but she supposed that on a warship, medical needed to be close by to quickly transport wounded warriors. "Come," She was ordered again, and found herself in a smal
ler, sterile white room with a single table in the center.

  It didn't look all that dissimilar from the medical bay on the Aria, except for the mammoth male who entered in from another door and inclined his head to her, "This is Ga'rae, remove your covering so he can see to your wound." She blinked at the Commander, wondering who he was talking to, and his eyes narrowed on her for a fraction of a second before he sent his other two men outside. "Me?" She clarified, and his jaw clenched a second before he reached out and took her hand, lifting it to show her the blood still steadily trickling down her arm. "Oh shit, I dripped blood all the way up-"

  "Lieutenant, we have discussed this is a warship, she has seen more blood than you possess. Remove your covering, and let my medic see to your wounds."

  She looked at her crew, still huddling together in a terrified knot, some of them wounded, and she knew if she couldn't deal with this, if she showed fear and panicked, they would flat out refuse any sort of treatment. "I think perhaps it would be best to cut it down the back, Commander." Ga'rae rumbled, his voice even deeper and huskier than the Commander's. "Too much movement could cause more damage." Tarek nodded sharply and with a hiss of metal on metal, removed a wicked sharp knife from a sheath at his hip, causing some of her people to squeak in fright. She watched his face, the way the unforgiving lights made his strange eyes shine like gold coins.

  She focused on his expression, on the calm steadiness that crackled around him. He could have killed her with a flick of his wrist, but his hand hovered at her side, the big blade held easily in grip. He looked back at her, one eyebrow quirking with what she swore was amusement and slowly handed his knife to the unarmored medic. He blinked, releasing her from her staring, in time for her to notice that a solid glass door of some kind, sliding down from the ceiling. Cutting her off from her people. She could see them, and they could see her, but she was now trapped in a small room with two monstrously large males.

  Adrenaline surged, her skin got hot, then cold, clammy with fearful sweat.

  The Commander growled something at his medic that made her turn her head, just enough to see him moving up behind her with that knife in his hand, and whatever was said made him calmly incline his head and wait. The Commander took her chin in his fingers and turned her back around to look at her, his eyes narrowing a fraction, "You will not fear me," He ordered tersely, "Or anyone on board my ship." She was starting to feel it now, the pain that was radiating down her arm, and the warmth of his skin, the roughness of his fingers on her face, "I'll do my best." Was all she could say, and he grunted like that was satisfactory, barely, for now. "You are in shock, your mind has distanced from your body to keep you alive, unless you would prefer to be unconscious, it is best that you allow us to move quickly and ensure you feel as little pain as possible."

  He moved her hair over her shoulder and nodded tightly, holding her gaze, and her face while she felt a gentle tug at the hem of her tunic, and heard a soft hiss, "I have never encountered your species before, where have you come from?" She licked her dry lips, wondering if it was the shock too, making the white spots starting to dance in front of her face now. "I, we, are human. The Aria was one of five ships carrying what is left of our um, species. Originally humans come from um, Earth, but the planet died over fifty years ago. I was born on the Starsong, in space. You're really big." Her limbs were starting to feel funny now, and she listened to the rumble of the unfamiliar language behind her, while watching the mountain in front of her give a half a smirk. Not a whole one, but it still made her toes curl. "I am the Commander of the Sarazen armada, it is required that I be...big."

  She felt a little drunk as her body started to process the rush of adrenaline, as the surge of it started to wear off and the debilitating tightness of her muscles started to ease, He picked her up then, like she didn't weigh more than a pillow and gently, carefully lay her down on the table top, "Your clothing is strange," He commented flatly, and she felt herself smile drunkenly, "So is yours. Only knights in fairy tales wear actual armor," His massive hand stroked over her hair in a gentle, kind caress and she felt herself wanting to fall asleep. Wanting to just curl up on her side, curl up against him and sleep. “All of my warriors wear armor."

  "I noticed. What are you commander of, because you're even bigger than him."

  Ga'rae's eyes, which were a remarkable greenish gold, sparkled when he smiled at her in amusement. His head was shaved too, just one thick braided rope of inky black hair that spilled down his back and made the green tattoos on the side of his head and neck stand out in bold relief, "I command only this medical bay, little one. Be not afraid, a light will shine down on you and scan your small self for further injury. You are very brave," She blinked languidly and closed her eyes while those white spots became brighter and more difficult to see through, "No choice. Got more chevrons on my arm, I'm in charge, can't fall apart or the crew will freak."

  She turned her cheek into the gentle stroke down her hair, listening to them murmur in their deep, guttural language above her, "Tell me of you, little warrior, you may sleep soon, but not just yet."

  "Not a warrior. I study plants. Flowers. Trees. Sometimes animals. I'm really dizzy,"

  "The wound you have sustained is extensive, little one. The Commander is going to give you his blood to replace what you have lost."

  "M'kay. I need type AB negative, is the Commander, a type AB negative?"

  "He is whatever you require,"

  "Universal donor..."

  She didn't know why she found that so funny, it shouldn't have been funny but giggles bubbled out of her anyway. She felt that gentle hand stroke her hair again, and her giggles turned to little hiccupping tears, "Shh," One of them soothed, and she gave a soft little cry of pain when a massive arm slipped under her shoulders and gently eased her up into a sitting position, "It will be alright, the pain will stop soon, drink this." The cool rim of a cup was placed to her lips, and she obediently opened her mouth to let the thick, warm fluid flow over her lips. The taste made her gag a little, spicy and metallic, but thick like a protein shake.

  She hated protein shakes and did her best to just choke it down quickly, shuddering and turning away when the cup was removed, "Gross," One of them chuckled, and she felt the sharp bite of a needle in her throat, "Whazzat?" She slurred, trying to force her eyes open, trying to blink away the tears now streaming freely down her cheeks, "A tonic to soothe your pain and a small language transmitter that will travel through your blood to settle into the proper area of your brain. It will allow you to understand our common tongue, and many others."

  "Oh. Kay."

  "Remove the barb," The commander ordered tersely.

  She opened her eyes when she was turned on her side, and a gentle brush of fingers was followed by a firm call of her name. The Commander was crouched beside her so that her face was level with his chest, and she didn't have to strain to look up at him. “What barb?” His touch was gentle, though his voice was hard, no softening to his words, no mincing them, "There is a tracking barb embedded in your shoulder. It will continue to broadcast your location as long as it is within your body, and to remove it Ga'rae will have to cut into your skin. You will not feel it unless Ga'rae is clumsy and ruptures the vial inside, and then you will feel it."

  "What's in the vial?"

  "Essentially, acid."

  "Is Ga'rae clumsy?"

  "Not usually. But his patients are not normally as frail and delicate as you."

  "I'm six feet tall, I'm not delicate, or small, or frail."

  "Your bones have a fraction of the density ours do, and your flesh is soft,"

  "You're a giant Viking alien, and why wouldn't it be soft? I'm a girl."

  "I am a Sarazen, not a Viking,"

  She opened her mouth to tell him just exactly how much of a Viking he was, but something felt weird in her general shoulder area, and the medic’s soothing voice followed the strange sensation. "The barb is removed, Commander. I need not use the re-generator, your
blood is already repairing the damaged tissue." Tarek glanced up and away from her, and she took the opportunity to study the tattoos that swirled in thick lines over his shaved scalp and down his throat, disappearing down under the collar of his armor.

  He had a beautiful face, beautiful chiseled lips that shaped around every word he spoke, though she wasn't really paying attention to those words. Just how sharp and leonine his features were. She imagined that if he had let his entire head of hair grow out, instead of just that thick braided stripe down the center, it would look like a lion's mane. She saw dimples wink in his cheeks, but he wasn't smiling. He didn’t really seem like a smiley sort of guy. But she reached out anyway to clumsily stroke her fingertip down the cleft in his chin, almost jerking her hand back when his eyes snapped back to hers and he frowned at her, "Sorry," She mumbled, trying to maintain a serious face while he stared at her. "She needs to rest, Tarek." Ga'rae grunted from behind her, and without taking his eyes off of her, the commander grunted back, "She will do so."

  He stood up and she had to roll back onto the table to keep him in focus, but it turned out she didn't have to even do that, because he slipped his arms under her and carefully lifted her back up against the hard, cold metal of his armor. She stared at him, and he stared right back, "I should walk," She whispered, and his tawny eyebrow arched up, "I disagree." He told her firmly, standing there holding her like it was no effort at all to do so. Like he carried women around all day every day, and for all she knew, he probably did. "What little crew is left is relying on me to lead, I should walk." His eyes warmed a fraction, but his armor was still just as cold, "Females who study flowers do not lead warriors." He told her bluntly, and she snorted, "Maybe where you're from, but they probably don't know that. I certainly don't know who any of them are past the stripes on their uniforms, but it's still my responsibility."