Heroic Abduction (2 page)

No hesitation did Dyre show. His first swipe of his sword sliced across the tendon of its knee, which made the beast bellow in rage. The creature attacked, relying on its massive size rather than skill. Dyre ducked, and then he slid on the ground, narrowly avoiding the sweep of a paw.

“Aha. You’ll have to do better than that to defeat a Kulin warrior of Aressotle.” He sprang to his feet and twirled, blocking the thrust of another claw with the flat edge of his blade.

And thus did they dance—well, he did. The monster didn’t have his grace. The beast roared and charged, swinging its mighty, hairy arms. Dyre dodged and parried, dealing damage via numerous well-placed cuts, not aiming to kill the poor misguided monster, just render it harmless.

His tactic worked. The beast eventually tired of their match. With a grunt and a bellow of annoyance, it retreated. Leaving a trail of oozing green slime behind, the monster lumbered back into the jungle from whence it came, leaving Dyre victorious— and the female safe.

But not in the least grateful.

“You, dumbass,” the tentacled female screeched. “Do you know what it took to get here? How much this illusion charm and the sleeping potion I used cost to get me this far?”

Dyre pivoted to regard the alien, a frown creasing his brow. “Illusion? I do not understand.”

Nor did she explain. Instead, she ordered in a crisp voice unlike her previous phlegmy one, “Cut me down.”

A request for freedom, finally something he understood. With a simple aim of his laser pistol, he zapped the locks on the manacles, and the female staggered free, the outlines of her body wavering.

What an odd species, a species that was arriving with reinforcements.

Facing the approaching crowd, who slithered up steps carved into the rock on the other side of the mountain, Dyre couldn’t wait to tell them he’d beaten back the beast menacing them. Freed them from their reign of terror. He’d be a hero. They’d honor his name, not that he performed his good deeds for recognition. Just knowing he did the right thing was gift enough for him.

Beaming his widest smile, and showing his finely sharpened teeth, Dyre held his arms wide open and announced, “Good aliens of this planet, I, Dyreokulan, mighty Kulin warrior of the planet Aressotle—” He left out the part where his own family had exiled him because he’d renounced their mercenary ways. “—have saved you from the monster plaguing your life and taking your virgin daughters.” The swarm of tentacled aliens rumbled. He bowed. “No thanks are required. I am pleased I could provide my assistance.”

Speech said, he clasped his hands together and waited for the cheers. The applause. Maybe even the slobbery hug of an ecstatic mother able to bring her female child home.

A low grumble went through the crowd, a discontented sound that swelled in treble especially when a multi-armed female, looking remarkably like the one he just saved, pushed her way to the forefront and screamed, “There’s the imposter who stole my sacred spot.”

“And her accomplice who broke our lucky chain of sacrifices,” bellowed a male with a wave of his numerous appendages.

“Capture them so that we might feed on their bodies and appease the gods,” yelled another.

Uh-oh.
Not yet another incident where the right thing was ill received. Dyre seemed to have issues with that. Of more concern were their claims. Had he saved an imposter? Was she not a virgin?

Turning to the female he’d rescued, Dyre caught her backing away, her appearance shimmering. The fuzzy edge of her shape made him blink.

“Stupid, cheap, malfunctioning piece of crap,” she grumbled as she slapped at her chest.

Before Dyre’s disbelieving eyes, the prodigiously ugly female disappeared only to be replaced by an even odder appearing one.

Boasting light-hued flesh with short, cropped almost white hair was a two-legged humanoid with only two breasts. Dyre gaped at her. Where was all her color? Her extra arms? Razor-sharp teeth or claws?

“What in the universe are you?” he asked.

“I’m a human, dum-dum.” Her clear green eyes rolled with evident disdain. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of my kind?”

“Human?” His eyes widened. “As in an Earthling barbarian? But how? Your kind is not on the approved list of galactic travelers.”

“Yeah, like that stops people from smuggling us off planet,” she snorted. “And could we discuss this another time, say like when we’re not being chased by an angry mob.”

Dyre cast a glance over his shoulder. Hmm. Good point.

He turned back to offer his assistance only to see the human had already put her feet into motion. Since Dyre had no set direction, he followed the Earthling female as she raced down the mountainside, her nimble feet leaping from rock to sandy surface to boulder.

Despite his questions about her presence on this planet, Dyre couldn’t help but admire her agility—and her trim buttocks. She might sport a less-than-pleasing coloration—which a dip in a violet-hued dye would fix—but, encased in tight slacks, her rounded and plentiful rear end was most pleasing to watch, as was the occasional glimpse he got of her jiggling mammary glands.

Bounding down the incline, he caught up to the female and kept pace—as well as started a conversation. “So, where are we going?”

“I don’t know about you, but I am escaping.”

“To where?”

“Does it matter?” she huffed, sliding a bit on some loose gravel. “So long as it doesn’t have angry aliens, I’ll consider it an improvement.”

“Might I inquire as to how you found yourself tethered on the hillside?” he queried, ducking as a spear went flying overhead.

“No, you might not,” she sassed back. “Now, would you shut the hell up and leave me alone? Or better yet, since you’re the one who messed up my plan, why don’t you stall the mob chasing us while I get away?”

“My lady desires a rescue?” The hero code had an entry for just such a request.

Dyre halted in his tracks and whirled to face the oncoming horde, just in time to bat away another spear.

“What are you doing?” yelled the human.

Did she suffer from short-term memory loss? “Rescuing you. Fear not, pale maiden, I shall hold back the invading forces while you flee to safety.” A glorious task for a hero.

“Are you for real?”

What a strange question. “I am not a holographic image if that is what you are asking. Quick, make your escape while I stall the advancing enemy.”

A peek over his shoulder saw her standing still. She sighed. “Of all the stupid things.” Soft fingers clasped his arm and tugged. “Don’t just stand there, you idiot. Let’s go.”

“Go?” He cast a glance forward at the tentacled aliens who didn’t move down the mountain as quickly as he and the human. It seemed they weren’t quite as fleet of foot, but they wielded wicked spears. He deflected another one with the flat of his sword. “But I thought you wanted me to protect your retreat?”

“So did I, but apparently a little thing called my moral conscience won’t allow me to let you die. I’m just as confused by it as you are. Now would you get your big purple feet moving? We’ve got a spaceship to reach.”

“A new objective.” His expression brightened. “Lead the way.”

Sprinting after the female, who seemed determined to confuse him with her ever-changing quests, he couldn’t help but think he preferred this new plan. While dying as a hero sounded great in theory, it was also kind of final, for him at least. At least this new request might see him living a touch bit longer, giving him a chance to do more good, and aid the female, who now bore an interesting pink flush to her cheeks as she panted.

He approved of the subtle color, but also noted what it meant. The lady tired. Dyre could help with that.

Tucking his pistol back in its holster, he then used his free hand to grip the female around the waist and hoist her over his shoulder. She showed her immediate appreciation by pounding him on the back, easing some tense muscles, and trying to alleviate his burden by screaming, “Put me down.”

How generous of her, but not needed. He’d trained with worse weights. She was feather-light in comparison. “While your desire to not tax my prodigious strength is kind, fear not. I can carry you. Simply lead me in the right direction, and I shall take you to safety.”

And perhaps earn a boon, like a kiss. Pale or not, the female did possess a tempting mouth—when it wasn’t yelling.

“Don’t kill your allies, unless they’re annoying.”
– A Mercenary’s Guide to Prosperity

“Welcome allies with open arms.” –
The Unofficial Guide to Heroism

What is wrong with this giant purple meathead?

First, he ruined her plan to get kidnapped by the hairy troll and taken back to its cave, where rumor stated it hid untold riches—riches she’d planned to get her hands on. Then, tall and purple—with his big freaking sword and massive muscles—antagonized the local populace, tried to get himself killed acting as a live shield, and, now, insisted on carting her over a brawny shoulder while dodging spears.

The guy was a few cards short of a full deck.
But, he is cute
. And different than others of his kind.

As an orphan kidnapped a few years back with some other girls and her teacher, Louisa, Betty had actually met some Kulin warriors before. Actually, she was well acquainted with two, Brax and Xarn, and they were just as dumb as her wanna-be hero. A species trait perhaps?

But at least she could relax knowing he hadn’t kidnapped her to use as an appetizer for later, unlike the Lxroakian race. Apparently, those monstrous aliens considered humans a sushi-like delicacy, a fate she’d narrowly avoided a few planets back.

Sporting a pea-sized brain or not, her new hero wasn’t abducting her for a snack. But while her flesh might not be in jeopardy, could she say the same about her virtue? She well remembered the bumbling seduction of her mentor’s dual purple rescuers.

She should be so lucky. While not a virgin when kidnapped, Betty was practically one again, given in the several years since her abduction she’d yet to come across a guy, heck, even a male, who didn’t make her go cross-eyed as she tried to figure out how to make sex with an alien species work. Most of the time, their equipment just didn’t seem to want to line up, or they had these antiquated views about a woman’s role in their society. In other words, have sex, keep house, and pop out babies.

Screw that. Raised among the Zonians for a few years after her capture and liberation, Betty wasn’t about to become some plaything for some multi-armed dude who wanted her as some kind of illegal trophy. Humans might be rare in this part of the galaxy—but not without resources.

“Left,” she hollered as he hit the flat ground of the plains paralleling the mountain and its jungle top. “My ship is under the big greenishy-blue tree.”

“The maiden does realize that all the foliage is teal in color?”

She snickered. “Well, at least you’re not color blind, even if you’re dense. Look for the one that’s fatter than the rest at the edge of the tree line. You can’t miss it.”

He angled his running steps, in time, or by chance, missing another spear, which thudded into the ground.

Close one, but luck was on their side. They were currently unscathed and about to make a clean escape.

Or not. Her eyes widened as she saw a hail of missiles about to rain down. “Shit. Incoming! Take cover!” she screamed as she struggled to get off his shoulder.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to screen them. Or him at least. The giant purple fool dumped her on the ground and stood over her, one massive mauve giant against a rain of sharp objects. Before she could mutter a hail Mary, save-my-fucking-ass, he went into action. Beautiful, spinning, sword-wielding action.

Thwack. Spank. Thwonk. Bing
.

How he managed to deflect the deluge she couldn’t have said, but she admired, maybe even drooled a little, as the muscles delineated by his shirt rippled as he weaved, his sword flashing as it parried the spears away.

For a big guy, he had some sweet moves.

She continued to stare even after he stopped dancing, enough that he frowned down at her and said, “Are you injured, pale one?”

Did the ache between her thighs count? She shook her head and shot to her feet. “Good work. Let’s go.”

A smile creased his face. “I saved you. Again. And my family said our kind wasn’t built for heroic deeds.”

Say what? Not having time to deal with his crazy talk, she jogged in the direction of her ship. Well, not technically hers, but Zista’s, her partner in crime. Ahem, acquisitions.

As she neared the large tree, the air wavered and distorted as the cloaking device went offline revealing the vessel. It was a sweet ride, an intergalactic Jifnarian model sporting the latest technology—and a galaxy-wide search warrant, as the previous owner had a hissy fit about its disappearance.
I won that vessel fair and square in that card game.
More or less.

“This is your ship?” he asked as he stopped alongside her.

“Yeah. Me and my friend’s. Why?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “That’s not a ship. It’s a planet hopper. This is a ship.”

The big guy slapped at a transmitter on his waist, and out of the hazy orange sky, a monster UFO appeared.

Her jaw dropped. She gaped. Yeah, she was impressed by the size. The shininess. The …

He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “This isn’t the time to admire. Get aboard your tiny vessel.”

“What about you?” Common courtesy dictated she ask, not that she really cared what happened to him, even if he’d just saved her life. Out in space, it was every girl for herself.

“Fear not for me, pale one. I shall protect your retreat.”

Say what? What crazy thing was he planning?
Oh no, he isn’t going to—

He was.

The giant meathead was running toward the determined handful of tentacle-waving aliens that were scurrying across the plains as fast as they could slither.
I should tell him to get his hot purple ass back here.
The big ship overhead dropped lower and hovered.
So pretty …

She shrugged. If he wanted to die, that was his problem and would make taking ownership of his vessel less of a legal issue. No, she didn’t consider that cold, but practical. Survival of the fittest, wasn’t that what Darwin had preached? It also closely resembled the Zonian code and that of the galaxy, which was only the strong survive. In Betty’s case, while not the strongest, she wasn’t dumb. She knew when to cut her losses and run.