"No."
She tapped her screen a few times without looking at me. "I am required to inform you, Miss Bryant, that you will have thirty days to accept or reject the mate chosen for you by the Interstellar Bride Program's matching protocols."
"Okay. And what if I reject the match? What happens? Will I be sent back to Earth?"
"Oh no. There will be no return to Earth. As of this moment, you are no longer a citizen of Earth."
"Wait. What?" I did not like the sound of that. Never come back? Ever? I'd figured a year or two in the field and I'd come home, retire on a sandy beach and sip piña coladas for a few years. Now I couldn't come home? My citizenship revoked? Could they even do that?
Suddenly I was shaking, and not with excitement or arousal, with dread. No one at the office said I wouldn't be coming back. They had to have known. God, after five years of service, they were just sending me to outer space as what … some kind of noble sacrifice? Those assholes at the agency had conveniently forgotten to mention this one, small detail.
"You, Miss Bryant, are now a warrior bride of Prillon Prime, subject to that planet's laws, customs and protections. If your mate is unacceptable, you may request a new primary mate after thirty days. You may continue the mating process, on Prillon Prime, until you find a mate who is acceptable."
I tugged at the restraints on the table, my mind racing a thousand miles an hour. Could I escape? Could I change my mind? Forever? Never come home? The reality of leaving Earth behind forever pressed in on my chest until I couldn't get enough air. The room started spinning.
"Miss Bryant- Oh, dear." Warden Egara's hand flew over her tablet for a few seconds before she put it down on the table behind her. "You'll be fine, love. I promise."
Promise? She'd promise that I was going to be fine with being transported into outer space and never … ever coming home?
The wall behind me lit with a strange blue light and the chair beneath me jolted a bit as it began to move sideways, toward the light.
I couldn't look. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on filling my lungs with fresh air. I didn't panic. Ever. This was so unlike me.
But then, I'd never had multiple orgasms in a damn testing chair either. And I'd never, ever fantasized about taking two lovers at once. The way they'd made me feel had been like nothing I'd ever felt on Earth. Would it be like that? Would my men make me feel that way?
The warden's warm fingers wrapped around my wrist gently and I opened my eyes to find her concerned face hovering nearby. She smiled at me, like a preschool teacher smiling at a scared four-year-old on the first day of class.
"Don't worry so much. The match was ninety-nine percent. Your mate will be perfect for you, and you for him. The system works. When you wake up, you'll be with your mate. He will take care of you. You're going to be happy, Amanda. I promise."
"But-"
"When you wake, Amanda Bryant, your body will have been prepared for Prillon Prime's matching customs and your mate's requirements. He will be waiting for you." Her voice had become more formal, as if she recited another protocol by rote.
"Wait-I," My voice stalled as two large metallic arms with gigantic needles on the ends appeared to be headed for the sides of my face. "What is that?" I knew I sounded panicked, couldn't help it. I did not do needles.
"Don't worry, dear, they will insert the Neuroprocessing Units that will integrate with the language centers of your brain, allowing you to speak and understand any language."
Okay. Holy shit, I guess I was about to be implanted with some of their advanced technology. I held completely still as the two needles pierced the sides of my temples, just above my ears.
If all else failed, I could come home and Robert could cut the damn chips, or whatever they were, out of my head. Sad thing was, I knew he'd do it.
But what if I never came back? What if the aliens were telling the truth? What if I fell in love with my mate … ?
My chair slipped inside a small enclosure and I was lowered, chair and all, into a warm, soothing tub of strange blue water. "Your processing will being in three … two … one."
Chapter Two
Commander Grigg Zakar, Coalition Fleet, Sector 17
The Hive scout ship blazed by, just off my fighter's right wingtip and I let him go, much more concerned with the larger, more heavily armored attack cruiser before me.
"Hive command ship in range. I'm going in." I informed my command crew back on board the Battleship Zakar, my battleship, so they could coordinate the rest of the battle wings around my attack.
"Don't do anything stupid this time." The dry tone in my ear belonged to my best friend, and top-ranked doctor in this sector of space, Conrav Zakar. Rav, he'd always been Rav to me, was also my cousin. We'd been fighting together for more than ten years, and been friends longer.
I couldn't help that the corner of my mouth tipped up into a wry smile. Even in the midst of battle, that asshole could amuse me.
"If I do, just be ready to patch me up."
"One of these days, I'll let you bleed out." He chuckled and my smile spread to a grin behind the clear mask of my pilot's helmet.
"No, you won't." I was shaking my head at that bastard's sick humor as I targeted a known weak joint in the Hive ship's underbelly and fired a sonar cannon that I hoped would rattle the fucker apart. On my right, flying in battle formation, two of my battle wing pilots fired ion cannons at the same time. The brightness of the attack was almost blinding.
A cheer erupted in my communications gear when the Hive ship exploded, breaking into pieces right before my eyes. There were a few more scout ships we'd need to chase down and take out, but I wouldn't lose any more cargo ships or transport stations in this solar system. At least not for a while and never on my watch.
"Nice job, Commander." I could hear the smile in Rav's voice. "Now, get your ass back on this ship, where it's supposed to be."
"I belong out here, fighting with the warriors."
"Not anymore." The voice of my second-in-command, Captain Trist, rumbled through my head and he made no attempt to hide his disapproval.
Fuck. He was such a by-the-rules man that he had the entire regulations guide shoved up his ass.
"If I stayed on the command deck all the time, Trist, you'd be bored."
"You take too many risks, Commander. Risks you should not be taking. You are responsible for nearly five thousand warriors, brides and their children."
"Well, Captain, if I die today, they'll be in good hands."
Rav answered, "No. They'll be begging General Zakar for mercy."
"Noted. Returning to the ship now." If I were to be killed, or worse, captured and contaminated by the Hive, my father, General Zakar, would most likely come out here and take command of the Battleship Zakar himself. I might be a bit adventurous, but my father was cruel and unforgiving. If he returned to active duty, the body count would double or triple, on both sides.
We worked hard to hold the Hive in place, to prevent their expansion into this sector of space. My father would try to defeat them, drive them back. The Hive response would be to send more soldiers, more scouts. Things would escalate quickly to what they'd once been. We'd managed to spread them out across multiple sectors of space, slowly weakening our enemy by denying them new bodies to assimilate while thinning their lines. My father's aggression would undo years of careful Coalition strategy, years of planning and work.
My father was too arrogant and stubborn to listen to reason. Always had been.
I had two younger brothers, both still in combat training on the home planet of Prillon Prime. They were a decade younger than I, and nowhere near ready for battle. My death would force my father out of his role as advisor to the Prime, and back into active service here, on the front lines. The alternative, to retire the Zakar name, our battleship reassigned to another warrior clan, was unacceptable. My father would rather die than see his family dishonored. This battle group had been named Zakar for more than six hundred years.
Trist would hate having his command stripped away and the people on my ship would hate it because … hell, no one liked the general. It just proved I had to stay alive. I might not be warm and cuddly, but I did the fucking job.
As commander, I was not required to fly combat missions. But sitting in the commander's chair, bellowing orders and watching other warriors die in my place was not my idea of honor. If I'd known how fucking hard it would be, I would have turned down command of the battle group. I was the youngest commander in a century, and many argued, the most reckless. The elder generals labeled me rogue. But they didn't understand. I needed to fight. I needed the rush. Sometimes, I didn't want to think, I just wanted to fight … or fuck, and since I had no mate, fighting satisfied the restless rage I carried. Even now, with the mission successful, I should have been appeased. Eased. I wasn't. Far from it.
Perhaps a warm, willing female with soft skin and a wet pussy could tempt me to give up these battle runs.
The Hive scouting teams had been infiltrating our space for several weeks, sending three- and six-man teams in, sneaking past our defense perimeters to surround and attack transport relays and cargo vessels. In short, they were making me look bad on the home world.