Alpha Trine

  Table of Contents

  Alpha Trine

  Book Details

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Book Two: Striker

  About the Author

  The sole survivor on a science vessel adrift in deep space, Zeus was adopted by the Emperor and Empress of the Mar'Sani, though he is both human and blind, and seen by most as unfit to join the royal family. Though they were able to repair his vision, Zeus does not trust his eyes and the nobles of his parents' court refuse to ever trust a frail human.

  Dargon Kal-Turak, along with his symbiote and lover Alpha, command one of the most dangerous ships in the stars. Narrowly escaping a trap, they dock in a space port to make repairs, but find that the Psonics hunting them are closing in fast. In desperation they kidnap the port Master Mechanic, unaware that the man they've brought on board is more than he seems, and will bring far more upheaval to their ship, their lives, and the stars than any of them could have imagined.

  Alpha Trine

  The Valespian Pact

  By Lexi Ander

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Michael Jay

  Cover designed by Aisha Akeju

  This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  Second Edition September 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Lexi Ander

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN 9781620042434

  For KimE who provide me with an awesome prompt that spawn so many great characters and ideas.

  Many thanks to Jason Bradley who helped me to straighten this out to make the story so much better.

  Canry was lost—no—taken.

  Empress Ashari ignored her attendants. She knew they would report back to her mate, Emperor Valdor Vondorian, and she cared not. She was hollow inside, the pain turning to a numbness that ate at her core until there was nothing left for her to feel. She refused to pretend everything was normal because it was not. Nothing would ever be normal again because he was gone—stolen. Her youngest son, Canry, had disappeared in the Waters of Poseidon only two short months ago, and yet it seemed like yesterday.

  Ashari slipped a hand under the cream-colored pillow and pulled out Canry's little nightshirt. She had made the weave herself from the finest spyder silk. Ashari handled the material carefully. Her claws were ragged from nervous chewing, and she did not wish for the fine thread to catch on them. Her eyes burned as she tenderly fingered the colorful clothing. Her heart might have been hollow but her tears were rivers that fed the sea.

  She wondered what she could have done differently. All Mar'Sani younglings were introduced to the Waters of Poseidon when they turned six lunar months. She and Valdor had been delighted Canry had quickly taken to the waters, more so than the twins or his sister, Shaneva. The youngling had been swimming, diving perfectly at her side and then slithering through the water, his black scales glistening in the sunshine. She noticed the tips of the barbs that ran along his spine and down his tail were beginning to turn red, a sign of his royal blood. Canry splashed Ashari with his tail and dived into the water—never to surface again.

  Within moments everyone began searching for the royal youngling. Those who lived in the waters combed the depths and found nothing. Canry was simply gone—disappeared—no trace or body had been found.

  He had vanished.

  Never in Mar'Sani history had a youngling or adult been lost in the Waters of Poseidon. For days Ashari refused to leave the shoreline of the great sea in hopes her son would find his way back home. She spent hours diving and swimming until she was overcome by exhaustion and the attendants pulled her ashore.

  Finally, she accepted the fact that Canry would not be coming home. She took to her sick bed and there she stayed. Every day she ate a little less. Her mate, Valdor, tried his best to console her, but there was little he could do. Poseidon had, for some unknown reason, taken her son, and in a few short years, he would claim their daughter as well.

  Their now youngest child, Shaneva, had been showing signs of The Longing prior to Canry's birth. One in every two thousand younglings born would return to the Waters of Poseidon. These children would eventually choose to reside in the waters over living on land. The reasons for The Longing were unknown, but neither were the children discouraged from the choice. As natural as The Longing was to the Mar'Sani people, Ashari could not help but wonder what she had done that Poseidon would lay claim to two of her four children.

  A large Mar'Sani male filled the doorway. His black scales gleamed like polished rock. Dark yellow eyes narrowed at the sight of Ashari lying on the platform, his barbed tail swishing side to side. Resplendent in the imperial red and gold robes, the Emperor strode into the room. Ashari knew that look of determination on his handsome face and was unfazed. She tucked the outfit back under her pillow as Valdor sat on the edge of the low bed.

  "Your attendants claim you are not hungry this morning." Valdor's voice was deep, resonating throughout the room. Ashari refrained from replying for there was nothing to say. "They also relay you are too tired to rise." Again, she responded with silence.

  Without another world, Valdor unlaced his boots and set them aside before climbing onto the platform. He gently nudged her to rise up, and he slid under Ashari before pulling her down to his chest. He released a great sigh and stroked the smooth ridge of her forehead until her curiosity slowly surfaced.

  "What are you doing?" Ashari softly inquired.

  "He … Canry was my son too. I miss his laugh. I miss watching him sleep. I miss … Being the emperor requires that I put my personal sorrows aside to care for others, but I cannot keep doing so if I lose my mate as well. I, too, hurt and grieve. I am exhausted and food holds no appeal. So I will lie with my beloved for a time and keep her company in her sorrow."

  Ashari buried her face in the crook of Valdor's neck, the scales pliant against her cheek. He needed her, Ashari reminded herself, and Valdor never gave up.

  "I had hoped," he continued, "I could pique your interest with something out of the ordinary. Interesting things are happening in the skies, and I wish you would share the discovery with me. I think we both need a break from our lives. Besides, you know how I love listening to council drone on about the quality of city paving stones. It is all very thrilling choosing between red or green."

  Ashari abruptly laughed through her tears. "And what is going on in the upper atmosphere that would draw your attention away from your duty with the council?"

  "A human science vessel was discovered floating in space within the borders of our patrol."

  "Are they certain the ship is human?" Ashari asked. "Terrens are not allowed this deep into Galactic space."

  The Terrens—humans—had been contained to their quadrant of the galaxy by the Galactic Imperials for the last fifty cycles. Most of the humans who traveled in space were employed by one of the four major Terren corporations. They operated freely within the Under Earth-Sun Alliance space.
Their quadrant was made up of a group of colonized planets, terraformed moons, and worlds that were forcibly taken over by the Terrens before the Galactic Imperials received word of the Terrens' activities.

  It had been the Terrens' treatment of the GyrFalconi on Aries 7 that caused the Galactic Emperors to issue a cease order, which the Terrens ignored after they killed the Imperial Ambassador. Later, at the conclusion of the Twenty Year War that had almost bankrupted the four corporations, their representatives claimed a misunderstanding and asked for a truce. They had sworn they were unaware they had overstepped the Galactic Inter-Planetary Regulations until the Cypress of Neighn Council played back the public executions of the Galactic delegates that had been broadcast on all of the human networks.

  Per the treaty the Terrens signed, they agreed to strict operating guidelines. They were not allowed to travel Galactic space without authorization. They were also required to pay restitution to the GyrFalconi for four hundred cycles. If the Terrens invaded, made war with, or destroyed a sentient planet then the Galactic Imperial Patrol would take over the Terren quadrant and dissolve all offending operating companies.

  Valdor pulled a communicator from his robe pocket. "Finding a Terren research vessel so far from their approved travel course is alarming. Warlord Sohm'lan is attempting to discover the purpose of a human vessel this far into deep space before we report it to the Galactic Imperial Patrol."

  He checked his watch. "The ship should be docked at the orbital station by now. Two away teams, Deimos and Phobos, have been sent to board the vessel and gather information. Warlord Sohm'lan is monitoring their progress from Ares Station. I have been given the operation codes. Do you mind if I listen to the transmissions?"

  Ashari found a comfortable spot to pillow her head on Valdor's chest. "No, love, I do not mind."

  Valdor switched on the handheld and entered his security code. For a few brief seconds there was silence before the first transmission came through.

  "Team Deimos, this is Ares Station, report your activity."

  "Warlord, this is Deimos reporting. We have boarded the deep space science vessel Asclepius. While waiting for the airlock to engage, I noticed marks from EM net burns on the ship's hull. Upon boarding, there is evidence of short-range phaser discharges within the corridors. All life pods have been deployed. Team Phobos is checking the data core. We have detected one life form and request permission to investigate."

  "Proceed with caution, Deimos. Team Phobos, report in," came the command from Ares Station.

  Ashari's eyes drift closed as she listened to the radio chatter, not paying much attention to the conversation. It was background noise that kept her from thinking for the moment and allowed her to simply relax, something she had been unable to do for a while.

  "Phobos reporting in. I do not know what happened, Ares. The data core was ejected with the life pods, backup drive was viral. We have been unsuccessful in drawing information from secondary systems. There are some written records, which we are gathering now. Whatever the Terrens were doing here, they did not want anyone to know."

  "Ares, this is Deimos. We have tracked the life source to the medical bay. You are not going to believe this, Sir. They left behind a youngling."

  Ashari's eyes popped open. Surely she heard incorrectly.

  "Say again, Deimos," commanded Ares Station.

  "A Terren infant," Deimos repeated. "He's about two months old. Per the paper chart, his name is Zeus. There is no other information besides confirmation of his health."

  Ashari sat up and stared at Valdor. Could it be that Poseidon had shown her a small mercy?

  "Any contagion or reason given why the youngling was abandoned, Deimos?" asked Ares Station.

  "None that I can see, Ares. The child is blind. I did not know human customs practiced culling." Deimos responded. For the first time, the sound of derision colored the clinical dialog of the military officers.

  "They are heathens," Ashari could hear the hiss of disgust in Ares's voice. "Everyone knows what atrocities they perpetrated on Aries 7. Prepare the youngling for transport. I will send in a medical team to double check for contagions. They will bring a unit to decontaminate your team as a precaution before transporting the child to the base. Ares out."

  Ashari's heart fluttered and her breath quickened. Poseidon had sent … Oh, Gods above, could she even begin to hope? The child, Zeus, was two months old. Was this a coincidence or an omen? Ashari slid over the silk bedding to the edge of the platform. This was a gift. He was a gift. That was how she would choose to see the situation.

  "Ashari, what are you doing?" Valdor inquired, golden gaze watching her with poorly disguised optimism.

  She rang for her attendants, then turned and regarded her ever-patient mate. By Valdor's expression, the joy and excitement had to have been written on her features. "I am going to get dressed so that I can pick up our son."

  "Ashari." Valdor moved to the edge of the platform, never taking him gaze from her. "He is not our Canry. He is not even our species." His voice was soft and full of repressed agony.

  She clasped her hands in front of her and stared at the floor, marshaling her thoughts together. "This child is not Canry. For some reason, Poseidon has claimed our son."

  "Ashari …" Sorrow made Valdor's voice crack.

  "No, Valdor," she replied softly. "I know what others believe. He is not dead. I would know if the Fade had claimed Canry in the waters. My connection to him is still there. The string has not been cut, but for whatever reason, Poseidon has taken him beyond our reach. Instead, he has given us the child of another to care for."

  Valdor was a male Mar'Sani. Bulls did not have the same connection to the offspring, and she could tell he desperately wanted to believe her. Valdor met Ashari's gaze. "Zeus?"

  "Yes, Zeus." Ashari waited patiently for Valdor's decision. He had known her for all of their lives. They were matched as younglings. He could read her like no other, and she allowed him that opportunity now. It was important he believe her and more so that he accept the youngling of another in his home, among his family, as a true son. She knew it just as surely as if Poseidon himself whispered the confirmation in her ear. So she waited for Valdor to wade through his thoughts and emotions, almost certain he would come to the same conclusion as she had.

  Valdor laced his boots up and stood, stomping his feet slightly to settle his shoes. Crossing to Ashari, he took her hands in his and pressed a warm kiss into each palm. He regarded her with his large, yellow gaze, the black slash of his elliptical pupils barely noticeable.

  "Would you like me to ready the twins?" he offered. "I imagine they would like to meet their brother." Valdor grinned at her, flashing a set of needle sharp teeth at her exclamation of instant joy.

  Ashari glanced over as the attendants rushed into the room, halting at the sight of her and Valdor standing in the middle of the room laughing together.

  "You will want to have something done about your claws. I heard Terrens are soft skinned." Valdor kissed Ashari's palms again and withdrew to be replaced by a half-dozen attendants.

  Ashari watched him stride out the door. His shoulders no longer slumped with sorrow. He had been so much stronger than she, silently bearing his own grief while attending to the others. She had been so focused on her loss that she had lost sight of her family.

  "I will notify the warlords of your impending arrival," Valdor called from the door before he disappeared into the corridor.

  Several hours later, Ashari swept out of the room, dressed as she had not been since the disappearance of her youngest son. She knew she appeared as the empress of old, full of life and purpose, resplendent in the reds and shimmering golds that made her black scales appear liquid. Bangles chimed at her wrists, and the only ring she wore was the promise ring Valdor had given her when they were sixteen summers.

  Stopping outside the children's ward, Ashari smiled softly as the twins, Azaes and Mestor, helped each other dress, ignoring the assistance the
nannies offered. They were five summers old and already too smart for their own good.

  "Boys?"

  The young bulls' heads snapped up at her voice. She had barely seen them in her grief. Their relief and happiness was evident in their exuberant display. They gave enthusiastic bellows and rushed toward her. She met them on bended knee, pressing her forehead to theirs. Small hands touched her face, searching for reassurance, and she gave it as she sang a heartfelt greeting of love to them.

  "Where are we going, Meme?" Azaes asked, taking one of her hands as Mestor claimed the other.

  Together they walked abreast down the hall. Ashari noticed people stopped and stared at her and her sons as they passed by. Some whispered behind their hands, but others grinned and gave small waves when she strode by. Ashari paid them no mind, too excited to socialize. Outside the palace doors hovered a sleek, lined glider. The driver opened the door. Ashari followed behind Azaes and Mestor as they scrambled in. She buckled the boys into the plush seats before commanding the driver to head to Ares Command Center.

  The hovercraft exited the palace grounds with little fanfare. The military space station was situated inland on the other side of the Somiathracen Mountain range located north of the city. The royal family lived in Atlainticia's capital, Thrace, the largest of the four cities that hugged the shores of the Waters of Poseidon. The domed buildings of the city climbed up the side of the low mountain range, intermingling with thick jungle foliage and rounded weather-worn cliffs.

  They crossed over three bridged waterfalls before entering the tunnel that would take them to the other side of the Somiathracen Mountains. On the far side of the mountain, the tropical forest sprawled for vast distances until the trees gave away to the grassy plains bordering the Black Sands Desert. Ashari knew they would not travel as far as the desert, but far enough the shuttle activity did not bother those who lived on the outskirts of Thrace.

  "You never said where we are going," Mestor inquired. Both he and Azaes watched her intently.

  "We are picking up a youngling today."