Marauder Cygnus: A Scifi Alien Shifter Romance (Mating Wars Book 1) (7 page)

“No!” Baxter shouts. “That thing ain’t gonna’ shoot! Drop it, Sherlock!’

Sherlock drops the rusted gun.

“We will take this weapon,” I say, shaking Baxter’s pistol in my hand. “It’s well maintained and seems reliable. It feels good in my hand. Do you agree to this trade?”

“Yes,” Baxter says. “Just let me go, man.”

I pull the knife away from his throat and shove him away from me. In the low Martian gravity, he looks like he’s falling over in slow motion, but he falls all the same.

“Good,” I say. “Enjoy the shuttle. Please!”

“
I
can’t believe
you did that!” I say, shoving Cygnus.

He’s not quite shovable, however, and my attempt only bounces my own body back.

“Yes,” Cygnus says. “I quickly adapted to the human bartering system, and I made the most of it.”

“No,” I say. “You jumped the gun...literally! I could have talked him into a better deal, I just needed more time. You’re going to have to learn to compromise, and to trust me. We can’t just do everything the Marauder way all the time.”

“That was a compromise,” he says. “The Marauder way would have meant killing all three and taking everything. I showed great restraint and subtlety.”

I grit my teeth. This man is impossible.

We stop near the lip of the crater to eat. There’s only one entrance into Rust Bucket, and it’s clear on the other side of the crater. I’ve opted to avoid the road until the last possible moment. Highwaymen are rampant on the roads. They are tolerated because they ask for very little in return for safe passage, and I’m normally able to buy them off with a few grams of precious metals—or a half kilogram of bacon. Right now, though, we have nothing of value aside from the gun and the jerky. Sneaking around the edge of the crater is a bit riskier because, while the highwaymen are happy with high volume low value robbery, the raiders off the main roads will kill you and take everything. And if you have nothing, they’ll just kill you.

I give Cygnus all of the jerky, and he raises his mask and starts to cram stick after stick down his throat, but he stops after three or four pieces.

“Aura,” he says. “Though you do not have a biosuit feeding off of you, you must be hungry.”

“I could eat a couple,” I say.

I’m starving, but I’ve heard Cygnus’ stomach rumbling like an earthquake ever since we landed, and I need him at full alertness if we run across some raiders.

He puts half of the jerky—six sticks—into my hand. “Eat. Please.”

I try to hand him back a few of the sticks, but he looks away from me and devours his remaining portion.

I raise my mask and put a whole stick in my mouth, then re-seal the mask. I repeat this process until I’ve finished the jerky.

“Thanks,” I say. “I was really hungry.”

“You must sustain two lives,” he says.

“Cygnus,” I say. “We only had sex one time, there’s no guarantee I’m pregnant already….”

He scoffs. “You will see.”

“Tell me more about your sister,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.

We’ve been walking a long time, and the surrounding rocks mask us from any potential raiders.

“We’re both from Earth,” I say. “The surface though, not the orbitals.”

“Earth’s surface is also a harsh place?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I answer. “But different from Mars. Mars is cold and sparse; Earth is sweltering and crowded. Fiona, my sister, is two years older than me. She’s always looking out for me, and after our parents were killed in food riots, she took care of me.”

He nods. I know Cygnus is a younger sibling too, though I don’t really understand sibling dynamics in his race.

“She joined the military for the minimum five years,” I say. “As soon as she turned 17. She had most of her salary sent to me, and I used it to learn bartering. I got good at it, and I played it safe. I rarely took risky deals, and my profits were miniscule at first. After three years though, I was making real money on each deal, and I bought my own ship. The
Zephyr.

“Your fleet started its breaking burn when Fiona was only a few months from getting out of the military, and war meant she was kept indefinitely in the military. Earth wanted to pool all of the solar system’s resources together to prepare to fight you. Mars and Venus wanted to welcome you. I had built up all my connections on Mars, since it’s closer to the belt. I had to pick a side. If I stuck with Earth, I’d be able to keep in contact with Fiona, but I’d go broke, and all the sacrifices she’d made for me would have been for nothing. Earth doesn’t tolerate scrappers.”

“Why did Mars and Venus want to welcome us?” Cygnus asks.

“Humans have only been terraforming Mars and Venus for a few centuries. Aside from the orbitals, Martians mostly live underground or in domed craters like Rust Bucket, while Venusians live in floating cities. I guess they have less to lose...if the invasion had gone as planned, which planet would you hit first?”

“Earth,” Cygnus says. “But also these orbitals. It sounds like the orbitals are the cream of society, so we’d be most interested in breeding with them.”

I shudder a bit at that. “So you’d rather have a glitzy orbital girl over me?”

“Of course not,” Cygnus says. “This is just how the marauder fleet will think. Mating with you has changed my thinking. They’ll still be set in the old thinking.”

“That’s sweet,” I say, smiling. I know he can’t see me through the tinted faceplate, so I press it against his. It’s surface shorthand for a kiss.

“I have to go pee,” I tell Cygnus. “Then we can work our way around the crater. We should reach the entrance in an hour or so.”

“I will escort you,” Cygnus says.

“No, you won’t. I will be just a few meters away.”

He huffs, but I convince him to let me have just a few moments of privacy. I appreciate his fierce and resolute protection, but watching me pee is taking it one step too far.

The worst thing about peeing on the Martian surface is how damned cold it is. The Martian air chills me to the bone as I pull down my pants, but my bladder thanks me as it finally relieves itself.

There’s a man-sized rock and about three meters separating me from Cygnus, but I know those bear ears can still hear me, which is annoying, but unavoidable.

As I pull my pants back up to shield me from the biting chill, I feel something snag my ankle.

I look down to see a robotic hand clasped on my ankle. The cable attached to it is still somewhat slack, but then it slides across the ground like a snake as it begins to tighten.

“Cygnus!” I shout. “Raiders!”

I
’m already running
when she shouts. “Cygnus!”

I shouldn't have let her out of my sight, but there’s no time for regrets now, only action.

I leap over the rock with my gun drawn. How did I fail to hear or smell someone so close to us?

As I clear the rock, I have my answer. There’s something clamped to Aura’s ankle, and hundreds of meters away is a band of men and a buggy. One of them is holding a long gun from which the cable is attached.

I draw the knife and rush toward the cable. It’s tightening and is going to drag my mate away if I don’t cut it in time.

I raise the knife. I’m only two steps away, but the cable tightens, and Aura slides across the surface. Away from me.

I dive toward her, and she reaches out to me. My fingers miss hers by mere centimeters. I watch in horror as she’s dragged away from me, down the lip of the crater and toward the four men. Four men who have only minutes left to live.

I raise the gun, and with the steadiest of hands, I make the micro-adjustments needed to hit a target from over 300 meters away. I fire.

Aura is halfway to them by now, but the bullet moves faster. I’ve accounted for Martian gravity— which means minimal drop-off as the bullet travels—and I see the man holding the harpoon gun drop the device and fall down.

As soon as he lets go of the gun, Aura stops sliding, and the gun instead pulls toward her.

I rush down the lip of the crater, toward my mate. I see muzzles flash from the remaining three men, and I dive feet first, sliding behind a rock.

I hit the rock, which breaks my sliding descent. I hear bullets biting into the other side of the rock, but I risk a brief look around.

Two of them are advancing toward Aura with guns raised, while one is jumping into the buggy. Aura is motionless on the ground.

I’ll return any injury they caused to her one-hundred fold!

I sight across the gun, which is pointing at the rock. I steady my breathing and leap out from behind the rock. I jump hard and travel far— further than they expect—as their reaction shots hit against the edge of the rock, but I’m several meters past it.

I fire three shots before I hit the ground. One shooter drops, and the other is hit in the leg.

I hit the ground, the surviving shooter’s muzzle flashes, and a bullet tears into my shoulder.

Both of my arms still work, but the gun shakes as I try to aim.

I fire wildly as I rush headlong toward the shooter. From the corner of my eye, I see the buggy begin to drive away. The coward will not stay and fight? How could he live with such shame debt?

The shots I take while running are inaccurate, but they force the shooter to hit the ground and roll to find cover behind a rock.

The moment he’s behind the rock, I shift.

The clothes and jacket tear apart as I grow to full size. The facemask’s straps break, and the mask falls to the ground, as does the oxygen tank.

When the shooter pops back out, I see his gun shake wildly. The last thing he expected to see was a 2,000 kilogram purple bear rushing towards him.

I’m almost on him, and I cut to the side just before he fires. He loses sight of me behind the rock.

Now he thinks I’m going to come around on his right side, so he’s likely holding the gun pointing toward the other side of the rock. He’ll unload as soon as he sees me, at point-blank range. It would be hard to miss from that vantage.

But I won’t come from the left or the right side.

I leap, and in Martian gravity, I might as well be flying.

I coast over the top of the rock, and just as expected, he’s tunnel-visioned and waiting at the edge of the rock.

I land on top of him, my claws severing all the tendons in his shoulders before he can aim the weapon up at me. My teeth find his throat, and I tear it open in one brutal bite.

Without bothering to look back, I run at full speed down to my mate.

I shift back to Marauder form, and I unclasp the robotic hand from her ankle.

“Aura!” I shout, putting a hand on her shoulder. I’m tempted to raise the mask—briefly—to check for injuries, but I decide against it. She needs all the oxygen she can get if she’s injured.

“Cygnus,” she says. “I’m fine. Stop the one on the buggy from getting away!”

She grabs the harpoon gun and throws it at me. I catch it and look up.

I’d forgotten about the one on the buggy, but quickly I understand. I’ve shown them what I can do, and if he escapes, he’ll tell others who will come for us. If I let him escape, I’m failing to protect my mate.

He’s only about 200 meters away. He must have stopped to gawk at my bear attack. That delay will cost him.

I raise the harpoon and notice there is a screen on it for sighting. When I put the harpoon on my shoulder and sight across it, the cable retracts all the way and suddenly there is a green flashing reticle. It locks onto the man; I pull the trigger.

I expect the projective to fly straight, but the hand adjusts itself as it flies. The buggy swerves wildly to try to dodge it, but the hand simply follows, the cable trailing behind. The harpoon beeps slowly at first, and then faster as the hand travels.

I hold the harpoon tight with both hands, and the beeping intensifies.

The beeping becomes a constant hum, and the targeting reticle flashes red.

I see the cable begin to tighten, and I press my foot against a rock to brace myself.

As the cable goes fully taut, I tug the harpoon and the man is jerked out of the buggy. He hits the ground, and the cable drags him across the dusty surface. I hold tight, and the cable does all the work. He’s coming quickly toward me, but I spare a moment to look down at Aura.

She’s sitting up now, and she nods at me.

I look back, and I notice the hand is grabbing the man by his head rather than his ankle. His facemask is still attached to his oxygen tank, but the tank is dragging across the ground.

When he’s about 100 meters away from me, the tank slams into a rock and a moment later, he’s engulfed in flames. I drop the harpoon, and it flies toward the burning mass.

“I wanted to kill him with my own hands,” I say.

Aura tugs at my arm. “Cygnus, we need to go. There may be more nearby.”

“We will take the buggy,” I say. “It’s faster, yes?”

She nods.

We get into the buggy, and Aura checks the storage compartment. It’s full of weapons and food, and I devour several kilograms of rations immediately. It’s more cured meat, but it has some type of heat built into it. I find this odd, but the burning sensation somehow enhances the taste. Aura eats some as I drive the buggy, and we stop at each of the raiders’ corpses, throwing the equipment we retrieve from their bodies into the cargo container.

We finally retrieve my gun as well, which has a few bullets left.

“Get yourself covered again,” Aura says, smiling down at my penis. “Not that I don’t like admiring it.”

I remove the clothes from the largest of the raiders and manage to put them on, but they are a tight fit. The boots don’t fit, so I cut the toes off. My purple toes poke through the ends, so I wrap them in extra cloth.

“You look like a raider now,” she says. “A bad one...who doesn’t get much loot.”

“Will this be a problem?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “Getting attacked was certainly scary, but it worked out for us. We actually have a lot to trade with now. If that hadn’t happened, I honestly didn’t know what we were going to do when we got into the city.”

I nod in satisfaction. Just as I promised myself, I provided for her on this planet.

“We will flourish here,” I say, leaning back in my chair and chewing into another stick of jerky. “And you now have no need to sell your beloved
Zephyr
.”