Raevu_Science Fiction Alien Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Other Books in This Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  GALAXY ALIEN WARRIORS SERIES

  RAEVU

  LARA LARUE

  RAEVU

  LARA LARUE

  Copyright © 2017 by Lara LaRue

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Other Books in This Series

  Dekkir (Book One)

  Sekkol (Book Two)

  Craze (Book Three)

  Before we start…Be sure to subscribe to my mailing list for free reads, exclusive sneak peeks and giveaways.

  Chapter 1

  Raevu

  I held the data screen in both hands, staring down at it in disbelief. I scanned the missive twice before its contents sank in—the experiment had reached stage two.

  The Earth primitives have finally come through for the Juhlian people. I was starting to think that the benefits of our trade agreement were all one-sided.

  With a deep breath, I composed my expression and made sure my hands were steady before looking up at my deputy prime minister. “J’da,” I addressed him.

  “Yes, my lord?” He was tall and spindly, with spidery fingers and a long, intelligent face. His milky blue eyes glanced up at me mildly. Despite all the drawbacks of being born a eunuch, his ability to remain dispassionately calm in emotional situations made him invaluable.

  It was difficult not to distract myself by reading that message again. It actually worked. Fifty years of searching for a biologically and sexually compatible intelligent species. Six years of negotiations with the humans once we found them, and ten years of sending them technology and trade goods while they paid us back with empty promises. Finally, they were able to make good. I wanted to crow in triumph, but J’da was waiting for his answer.

  I met his gaze. “Ready the fastest cruiser. That message came from Earth—we’ve reached stage two. We leave at first light.” I got up from my command chair, straightening my cloak.

  “Of course, my lord.” He bowed as I passed him, already reaching for his communications pad as he straightened.

  I stalked away from him, heading for my chambers to rest and pack. I was confident that everything would be ready at dawn. J’da was stunningly competent, and he knew just how important this mission was—important enough that I had to deal with it myself.

  ***

  The hypertunnel’s terminus spat us out just outside Earth’s orbit, the vast metal and ceramic ring flashing with a million multicolored lights before the milky vortex inside of it collapsed. A few of my crewmen sighed with relief; hyperspace travel had its risks, even with a stable terminus to link to.

  I ordered, “Send hails to Earth command.”

  My communications officer, Kymptar, nodded and coded in the commands on his holo-console with thick, black-nailed fingers. As the connection request went out, we gazed down at the blue-green ball below, with its satellite layer shimmering all around it.

  The view-screen flickered, and a human communications officer appeared, sitting at a desk, her bland expression balanced by an enormous pair of velvety brown eyes.

  She gazed at me briefly, a mix of confusion and lust in her eyes before her expression turned neutral. “Envoy ship, we have received your hail with registration information. May I help you?” she requested.

  I cut to the chase, “The ambassador, please. He’ll know why I’m calling.”

  She nodded and tapped on her own screen. “Patching you through to the ambassador.”

  The screen fuzzed for a moment, and then a burly but weak-chinned older human man appeared on the screen. His skin was pinkish, he wore a poorly knotted tie of dusty burgundy that clashed with his coloring, and his bald spot had widened since our last video call. He offered a saccharine smile.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty Raevumon,” Ambassador Reynauld spoke in a clipped tone.

  It was nearing sunset, but I ignored that. “Good morning. I got your missive about the compatibility project. I want to know about the experiment results. In detail.”

  “We looked for the qualifications your ministers and scientists specified, performed the tests as requested, and injected the five finalists with the DNA samples provided.”

  Somehow, his voice always sounded oily to me, as if he were trying to slip through the conversation without telling me the whole truth.

  I scowled at him. “Only five finalists? Do you realize the straits my planet is in, Ambassador? Fewer women are born on Juhl with every generation. Without women to breed with from a compatible race, the Juhlian people will all die out. We need more than five human women to help our situation.”

  The ambassador held up a hand. “There were only five that fit all of the criteria your scientists provided, sir.” His voice was placating.

  Months of searching, and yet the best the humans had was a tiny pool of potentials?

  We stared at each other, and I finally sighed and shook my head. There was no choice but to work with what we had. “Five will be a start. I will get our scientists to work on recalculating and adapting our growth plan.”

  Reynauld winced. “I’m sorry, please allow me to clarify. There were five, Your Majesty. There aren’t five anymore. There is one.”

  I blinked at him. “I don’t think I am hearing you correctly.” I turned toward Kymptar and barked at him to look at the translator circuits, certain there was a loose connection somewhere.

  As my communications officer scrambled to make sure all components were working properly, Reynauld blathered on as if he hadn’t heard me. I scowled but listened, hoping I wasn’t missing anything in translation. “There were complications with four of the finalists after we injected them with the DNA as your scientists instructed.” The ambassador’s small green eyes flicked nervously back and forth as he explained. “Two were immediately violently ill. One, unfortunately, died as a result of some allergic reaction to a spore or virus in the samples. Two had only mild physiological reactions, and we had high hopes for both. Unfortunately, Jane Cleveland, one of the two finalists, started hallucinating violently. She did not respond to medication or implant therapy, and she ended up committing suicide.” He must have caught sight of my expression and added hastily, “For which we are very sorry. The psychologists should have seen that inclination in the genetic or psychological screening but somehow failed to do so. So, that means we have…one fully viable candidate.” He stared at me, throat working.

  With a patience that would have pleasantly surprised my father, I shifted my stance, hea
d up and hands clasped behind my back. My voice stayed calm. “Ambassador Reynauld, our agreement was for an exchange of technology and science for women—plural, as in multiples of them, not a singular woman—who could help us rebuild our race, voluntarily. We have held up our end for almost a decade. And now that we have finally reached Phase Two, you present us with only one viable woman?”

  “I… On behalf of Earth’s science team, I deeply apologize,” he started. I shook my head, and his mouth snapped shut.

  “One woman will not help us rebuild my people. One compatible human woman will not bring us the stability and fertility our race needs to survive. Our agreement will not be considered met with only one woman to exchange.” I could feel my temper rising.

  “Of course, we will continue our genetic screenings of volunteers for as long as is required to find others as needed.” He waved his chubby hands at the screen in a placating way, and I growled under my breath in annoyance.

  From one side of the room, I heard my first officer T’ral clear his throat. Curse it. I took a deep, cleansing breath. Shouting at the Earth Ambassador would get me nowhere. “Tell me about the remaining candidate,” I invited.

  “We are unsure about our final subject’s results,” Reynauld spoke hesitantly.

  I turned so T’ral could see the growing impatience on my face. He remained, as always, impassive, his black eyes emotionless. I huffed and turned back, imitating T’ral’s expression. “What’s the complication?”

  “She has grown moderately ill—fever, chills, fatigue, nausea. If she were not perfectly healthy before the injection, we’d say she had the flu.” Then, at a mumbling interruption behind him, Reynauld cleared his throat. “Influenza. It’s a disease that is typically viral in nature, and usually, the symptoms are treatable, but in this case…”

  I’d had enough. “Reynauld, I know what the flu is. We have something similar on my planet. You already admitted that your samples were not properly sterilized. She must have picked up the virus that way. We can cure it easily. Tell me more about the female. Is she otherwise well?”

  His eyes shifted again. “Not…entirely.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face. I was tired of dealing with this slippery fool of a man. T’ral came and stood just behind and to one side of me to offer his silent support. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited, one eyebrow lifting.

  “Um…Your Majesty, this was completely unexpected. This last woman has developed a series of welts in an unusual configuration. Almost like a symbol.”

  “A symbol?” That was bizarre. “Do you have an image available?”

  “I-I— The latest data has not yet been transmitted from the medical unit.” He was getting more nervous by the second, and I quickly realized that the humans, after making us wait so long, had almost completely botched their end of things.

  And we’re relying on them to save our race?

  A muscle jumped in my jawline as I fought a scowl. I rubbed my hand across my smooth jaw to ease the tic. “How long until we pass quarantine and can make landfall?”

  “Two days after your arrival.” The ambassador sank down in his seat.

  Primitives.

  “It seems then that you have a small reprieve. I want all the current data on the project, especially anything that you have on the survivor…what is her name?”

  “Eva Knight, Your Highness.” He took a shivery breath, blinking too often. I had scared him. Perhaps that would prove motivating, or perhaps he was simply the hapless messenger of an entire incompetent system. Either way, I had little sympathy.

  “I want every bit of information about her sent as soon as it is available. From now on, as long as we are within transmission range, I want you to send copies of all reports about all candidates, living and deceased, to my ship immediately, so we can review the information.” I saw all the pink leave his face. “Is this in any way unclear?”

  “No, Your Highness. I will get you the data as soon as possible.”

  “Good.” A hand tightened on my shoulder. I twisted around and met the blank look T’ral was pointedly giving me.

  I sighed. Pasting on a small, professional smile, I turned back to the view-screen. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  The ambassador nodded and swallowed, and the screen went black. I puffed out a sigh and slumped in the command chair. “Are all Earthlings this painfully incompetent?”

  “No,” my second replied solemnly. “But bureaucrats move on their own timetables throughout the galaxy. Might I remind you of that shipment of data cubes we were forced to wait for over a year?”

  I rolled my eyes again and bit back a sarcastic remark as I levered myself out of the command chair. “I don’t judge our people as perfect, T’ral, but this is getting ridiculous.”

  The corner of his lipless mouth tugged up. “Yes, it is, but losing your temper won’t do anything but give the ambassador digestive trouble.”

  I snorted. “I’m taking a break. Contact me as soon as they make their next data delivery.”

  “I shall.” He went back to his station to continue monitoring our orbit.

  I brushed past him on the way and headed to the tube lift. Maybe a workout with Baelon would put me back into a more charitable frame of mind before I dealt with the human again.

  I stepped into the lift. “Once you receive the reports and review them with the science team, I want to go over the documents myself. We’ll need to review the genetic profile of this ‘Eva’ and any others who pass the screening, to see if the exchange will be a viable one. We need results.” The lift doors swished shut before T’ral could reply.

  Chapter 2

  Raevu

  Baelon, my arms-master, could see the sort of mood I was in the moment I walked into his practice chamber. His eyebrows rose almost to his shaved hairline, and the corner of his mouth twitched with knowing amusement. “Trouble with the human bureaucrats again?”

  “Foolishness from top to bottom. They found only five candidates that made their way through the full screening, and four of them died. The fifth one suddenly fell ill and has some kind of disfigurement.” I shook my head as I removed my cloak of office and went to the wall to grab a practice staff.

  “Are they continuing in their efforts?” He took up a practice staff as well and activated it, the repulsor fields shimmering to life around each end.

  I activated mine, nodding. “I’m also having them send details on the survivor. If she is tough enough to survive that botched inoculation, she might be exactly what we need.” It was the only bit of hope in this whole mess.

  Baelon had taught me everything I knew. We had practiced together since I was small, and doing it again was like slipping on a favorite pair of boots. He put me through a series of exercises, then opened the sparring match with a surprise attack—and we were off, swiping, clashing, and dodging our way around the chamber. The fears of our people and the annoyances of dealing with the human government faded to a small part of my mind.

  We switched weapons after the first several minutes, tossing aside the deactivated staves and snatching paired swords off the rack. I circled him with practice blades ready, watching his tall, lean form for the shifts in stance that would tell where his next movement would come from.

  There! My trainer twirled his twin swords over his head, and they spun with deadly precision toward my head and midsection. With a resounding clang, my blades met and repelled his attack.

  Without letting him consider his next move, I twisted and wrapped my advancing leg around the one he was using for stability. I jerked my knee toward myself, and he fell backward onto the practice mat.

  Before he could roll to a standing position, I threw one blade into his path on one side. I heard its thunk as it stuck into the practice mats solidly, and I threw the other one to Baelon’s other side. Even as it impacted the practice mat, I swiped his swords from his grasp and held one to his throat.

  To my satisfaction, Baelon was breathing as hard as I
was at our exercise. “I yield, King Raevumon,” he said wryly, an amused twinkle in his eye.

  I held out my hand to give him additional leverage to stand. With a grunt, he rose to stand beside me. Our hands still clasped between our chests, I grinned at him. “I can count on my hands the number of times you’ve said that to me, Uncle.”

  “I must start looking for a replacement arms-master when we return home. Obviously, I am growing slow and soft.” His eyes twinkled.

  I laughed. “I replace you, Uncle, only after the ceremony devoting your ashes to the gods.”

  “Gods willing, after many seasons, nephew.” Baelon released my hand and swiped his forearm across his brow, wiping away sweat. “Good workout, sire. But I sense you are still agitated. Did you want to talk about this Earth matter further?”

  His question immediately brought the human ambassador and his oily, placating manner back to the forefront of my mind. An attack of restlessness took me again, and I strode to the edge of the practice mat and flung the sword in my hand down with a clatter.

  “Humans! Whose idea was this anyway? I do not care to deal with this Reynauld fellow any more than I have to, Uncle. But even if he were replaced, I would still be dealing with incompetence.” I turned and paced to the other end of the mat.

  “We have gotten further with our human allies than with any other species,” my uncle reminded me gently, but it didn’t help.

  “I foresee excuse after excuse of why they cannot supply us with fully viable mating candidates, while they continue to beg for our technology.” I ran my hand over my smooth scalp.

  “I thought that they finally had a viable candidate, however.” He tugged his short, pointed russet beard.

  “Uncle, that’s not sufficient. You know the dire straits we are in. We need hundreds of compatible human women to help us rebuild our race, not just this one Reynauld has said may be viable.” I continued to pace, trying to run through my frustrated energy.