Heroic Abduction (3 page)

She dashed to her ship, the hissing of escaping pressurized gas as the door opened letting her know Zista watched. She darted inside and slapped a button to shut the portal, allowing herself one last glimpse of the hunky dumbass about to face off against the horde.
What a waste of hotness.

“Who in the galaxy was that?” Zista asked.

“A purple moron who is buying us some time.”

“Shouldn’t we help him? A man with that kind of bravery and skill would make a great breeder.”

Betty glared at her friend. For some reason, the fact that Zista thought him attractive bothered her. “He’s not even close to your type.”

“No, but he is yours,” she replied, her yellow eyes casting a sly glance in her direction.

“I’ll grant you, he’s sexy in a dumb jock kind of way. But he’s also a dead man. I mean who runs back toward a mob when he’s got a perfectly good ship to escape in.” A big ship she coveted.

“A male who’s kicking some serious alien tentacle.”

Betty allowed herself to peek out a porthole, having unconsciously avoided it so she wouldn’t have to see her purple rescuer get cut down.

Only he was not dying. Heck, he wasn’t even bleeding or maimed. On the contrary, was he … smiling?

No way. She scooted to their control room, which didn’t take long given the size of their compact ship. She typed on a computer console, and the large screen changed its view to that of the camera on its side. She zoomed in. “Fucking crazy bastard.” He was smiling and laughing. “He must be related to Brax and Xarn,” she muttered, which meant she couldn’t just abandon him. She sighed in annoyance. “I guess we should give him a hand and rescue his dumb—”

“Yet oddly attractive.”

“—ass.”

Again, Betty couldn’t help but fire a dirty glare at Zista, who returned it with a smile and a wink. Bitch.

However, their plans to help didn’t pan out. Zista frowned as she punched at the navigation controls. “This is odd. My commands aren’t functioning.”

“What do you mean they’re not functioning?”

“I mean I can’t fire our guns or maneuver. It seems we’re caught in some kind of tractor beam and are currently not in control of our vessel.”

Sure enough, a beam of light encased them. Their ship lurched and then gave a slight shudder as it lifted from the ground, up and up, toward the giant UFO in the sky.

So much for helping the suicidal warrior. But, hello, big starship. At least the day wasn’t a complete loss.

“No money, no fight.” –
A Mercenary’s Guide to Prosperity

“No reward necessary.” –
The Unofficial Guide to Heroism

Once Dyre ascertained the small spacecraft was out of danger, with the distressed damsel and her ship on board his better-equipped vessel, he disengaged from the enemy. Not that many of them remained. Twitching limbs littered the ground, and the wails of the injured provided a steady moan in the background to his farewell speech.

“I hope this day you have learned a valuable lesson about why you should never pick on females. I thank you for the exercise, apologize if I’ve accidentally killed one of your loved ones, and now bid you goodbye as I embark on a new quest to save the universe from something as yet undetermined.” Not his best hero speech, but it would have to do. He had a tractor beam to catch.

Tapping the transmitter on his belt, he sprinted away from the battleground toward the beam of light sweeping toward him. The tingling ray caught him, and his feet lifted from the ground. While it was probably unmanly to admit, Dyre quite enjoyed the sensation as he flew, a power, alas, reserved for the avian races. A shame, because the ability to fly would have proven a great asset.

The tractor beam sucked him past the lip of his ship, and he flung himself to the side, landing with his knees slightly bent on the deck surface. The ship sealed the bay door shut.

“I can’t believe you made it.”

The human’s remark wasn’t exactly overjoyed, probably because she was in awe at his prowess. Understandable. He was a formidable fighter, a thought he squashed down as being a little too prideful. Pride was for mercenaries.
Whereas I am a humble knight.

“Welcome, pale one, to my ship.”

“My name is Betty.”

“And I am Dyreokulan, galactic hero and warrior formerly from the planet Aressotle.”

“Formerly?”

“It seems my goals in life were at odds with those considered acceptable by my planet.

“And that goal is?”

“To provide valiant assistance to those in need.”

She didn’t seem impressed. “Whether they want it or not, apparently. Well, Dyre, you now have us on board your ship. What’s the plan?”

Plan? Heroes didn’t plan. They acted. But she did pose an interesting question. “No idea,” he replied with a shrug.

“What do you mean, no idea? You abducted us.”

“Rescued.”

“Whatever. You took us, and now I want to know why.”

“Who is us?” The answer to his query was soon answered as a Zonian beak edged out the small craft’s door, the broad avian body dwarfing the human.

Yellow eyes perused him. “He’s big,” she remarked.

“And about as brilliant as a rock.”

What unexpected flattery. Dyre puffed out his chest. “I am considered slightly large for my kind and thank you for the comparison to the Roc. Their wisdom is renown throughout the galaxy, and I am honored you would compare this simple warrior to one of their great mental stature.”

Betty’s mouth opened, revealing flat-edged, white teeth. Were humans herbivores? He’d have to research the care and feeding of her kind. But first, they needed a destination, and a purpose. “Where would you like me to escort you?” he asked. Somewhere dangerous? Somewhere his skills could be used to fight the forces of evil?

“No need to escort us anywhere,” Betty quickly answered. “Just drop us off once we clear the planet, and we’ll be on our way.”

His excitement deflated.

“Don’t be so hasty, little sister,” the Zonian said. “I wouldn’t mind a bit of a break from our cramped quarters and a chance to relax.”

“You’d let a
man
pilot?”

“Why not? He seems capable.”

“So am I, yet you won’t let me drive the damned ship.”

“Because the last time you did, you scratched it.”

“Not that again,” Betty snapped. “How is it my fault that a pair of asteroids collided and shot out shrapnel?”

“Was the ship nicked?”

Betty growled. Dyre watched and listened, fascinated by their repartee. Would they come to blows? It was what would happen on his home world. Actually, it took a lot less than that to get the warriors riled.

The Zonian clacked her beak as she laughed. “Oh, you are so easy to anger, little sister. I just think it would be nice to have some extra space, and I wouldn’t mind exploring this beauty of a ship.”

“But we have a mission,” hissed the pale human to her companion. “You know, to
get
stuff.”

“If it is supplies you need, then I have a hold full of items. No matter how many times I try to refuse payment, those I help insist I take it and leave.” They usually even cried when they thrust the riches at him begging him to go. Most even exacted a promise he’d never return. Probably because they didn’t want to hog his noble abilities.

“Why would you give us your stuff? What do you want in return?” asked Betty suspiciously.

“What use do I have for treasure? I am a galactic knight on a quest to bring justice to those in need.”

“I’ve seen your idea of help, and it’s kind of disruptive, violent, and misplaced.”

“Oddly enough, you are not the first person to remark that. But, I don’t let a few bumps along my path sway me from my purpose.”

“If your purpose is to cause chaos, then I’d say you succeeded.”

“Ignore her,” the Zonian said. “She’s just grumpy because she’s in a breeding phase and hasn’t found a male to ease her.”

“I could—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the human slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t even think it, purple dude. And
you
.” Betty fixed a glare on her companion. “Will shut it. I don’t need a man. And if and when I do, I’ll select him myself thank you very much.”

Zista clucked her disapproval. “If you wish to abstain when there is a perfectly acceptable male specimen here for the taking, then that is your choice. If he were a little more robust, I’d give him a try.”

The Zonian eyed him up and down. Dyre’s cock shriveled tight. He’d heard about what happened sometimes to the males brave enough to mate with them. He preferred to keep all his body parts intact thank you.

As if sensing his discomfit, the female warrior chuckled. “Relax. I won’t bite. Unless provoked. Since we’re going to be roomies for bit, you may call me Zista. And while Betty is a grumpy, repressed barbarian, I am not and would love a tour of your ship.”

“Then, please, follow me.” Dyre led them through the large vessel he’d earned after a particularly stringent cleanup in a village on a little planet in the ninth quadrant. The townsfolk shoved him on it and preprogrammed it to launch in space. Those brave souls, ensuring his escape even as their homes burned. The fire-breathing reptile he’d chosen to take care for them had caused some damage during their battle. But, while the townspeople would have to rebuild, at least they’d no longer have to worry about the occasional three-horned bovine getting eaten.

As he extolled the various virtues of his vessel, which boasted four large crew rooms, plus a barrack if he needed to carry a large number of passengers, he couldn’t help but eye the pale human.

While initially her coloring and odd two-breasted status shocked him, the more he observed her, the more he found her pleasing to his eyes.

She boasted a more rounded frame than the women of his planet, less muscle and hard-edged planes and more curves and valleys. Her softness beckoned a man’s touch. He wondered if she would feel as pillowy as she appeared once nestled between her thighs. He wasn’t the only one enjoying the sight of her. His cock also found her to its taste, swelling when he accidentally touched her, standing to attention as he kept her from leaning in to a deadly plant known to eat its prey alive—another gift from a thankful party.

“Hands to yourself, dude,” she snapped.

“I meant no disrespect,” he apologized. “Simply ensuring you did not become a meal for my garden. Most of the foliage you see here is quite dangerous to your kind.”

“Then why keep it?”

“They were gifts. It seemed rude to rid myself of them.”

She snorted. “If this is what your friends give you, then I’d hate to see what your enemies like to give.”

“I think these are fine warriors gifts,” Zista stated as she stalked by on taloned feet. She snatched a carnivorous bloom in passing and popped it in her mouth, crunching loudly. “It shows respect for your strength that they would gift you with danger knowing you can handle it.”

Dyre nodded his head. “My thoughts exactly. You are wise. My own mother has not grasped that fact. She claims these aren’t thank-yous but attempts to kill me. As if I could get taken down by a mere plant.” Oops, getting a little boastful. He’d have to rein it back in, but it was nice to speak with someone who at least followed his point of view.

“On my planet, the more dangerous the gift, the more it speaks of our respect for the recipient. Why, our great queen once gave her biggest enemy the gift of a razor-tailed, rare three-headed Ihro raptor. It was a most wondrous gift.”

“And did her enemy appreciate it?”

“She did until it ate her.”

Betty shook her head. “You guys are both whacked. Speaking of which, I’m tired and sticky. Any chance of getting a room with a shower?”

“But of course. I’ve been remiss as a host.”

Dyre led them back through the ship to the spacious chambers. The Zonian commandeered the first room he showed them despite the pale one’s grumbles. “I’m in charge so I get first choice,” Zista said with a clack of her beak.

Betty stuck her tongue out, and Dyre couldn’t hold back a smile. While childish in gesture, it only served to highlight the friendship between the two, a camaraderie Dyre would have enjoyed. The road of a hero was a lonely one.

With one guest taken care of, he led the human to another chamber, which coincidentally—ahem, by purpose—was alongside his. The door slid open, and he led her into the most sumptuous suite.

“Good grief. This room is massive.” Betty turned in a circle, her eyes wide as she took in the space.

“It is the largest one aboard.”

She whirled, suspicion in her eyes. “Is this your room?”

He could understand her confusion. “Of course not. As behooves a hero, I’ve taken the smallest of the quarters for myself.”

“Smallest? But why?”

Dyre blinked. “Um, because.”

“Because isn’t an answer. If this is your ship, and you’re its captain, then why would you take the smallest room? I mean, hero or not, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Heroes aren’t supposed to enjoy comforts.”

“Says who?”

Dyre didn’t answer. Given his planet followed
The Mercenary’s Guide to Prosperity
, he’d had to cobble together his own handbook,
The Unofficial Guide to Heroism.
Basically, he did the opposite of the mercenary one.

“Do you belong to some sect-like or monk-type group that thinks all comforts are a sin or something?”

“No.”

“Taken a vow of poverty?”

“No.”

“Celibacy?” she asked with a smirk.

“Most definitely not.” A question that surprised him. Had she not emphatically stated she wanted nothing to do with him when it came to sexual intercourse? “As mentioned before, should you have needs that require tending, I am more than capable of aiding you.” That was Dyre, always willing to help.

“Thanks, but no.” An odd red hue flooded her cheeks.

He frowned as he noted it. “Are you ill?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Your skin has changed color.”

She slapped her hands to her cheeks. “It’s normal.”

“Normal? Does it have a cause? Is it something I can fix?”

“It’s called embarrassment, dum-dum. I shot off my mouth before thinking. Can we stop talking about it now?”