Drasus: An Alien Warrior Romance

Drasus

“Nev the Bognarok,” I growl. “We need to get Harbar to fire back.”

“They are,” Draxx says, head cocked on one side. “But they’re terrible shots. Drelix, go help them out,” he orders our silent warrior, who gives him a smart nod and races away.

“Best marks-warrior I’ve ever known,” Draxx says, watching him. “What weapons do we have?”

“I’ve got a couple of pulsars and there’s some psi grenades in my flyer.”

“Give me one of your pulsars and get the grenades. I doubt we have time to get to the Preator’s armory, and we lost all our weapons when I was extracting Drelix,” Draxx grumbles. “You can tell we’ve not been operating in space for a while. So much training is going to be needed after we deal with the nevving Habosu and Bognarok.”

I hand him one of my pulsars, striding back to my flyer and pulling out the bandolier of grenades.

“Do you have a plan?” I query.

“My name is Draxx, General of the Tenth Battalion.” He gives me an unhinged grin. “I don’t plan.”

“Thank nev for that,” I growl in return, feral and dark, “because I need to get to my mate, and I’m not going to let anything get in my way.”

“Spoken like a true Sarkarnii male in rut.” Draxx extends his tail and wings. “Harbar is not made for Sarkarnii shift, but needs must when the ancestors call.”

He dives through the main entrance and inside, there are echoes of destruction. Nev him! There’s no way General Draxx is having all the fun.

I lift my head to grab hold of the scent of Coral and then enter the melee as yet another external bolt makes its way through Harbar’s defenses. Delicious and fresh, she is going to draw me to her, and nothing will keep me away.

The barrage of bolts from outside the station has reduced to only the odd one, which means Drelix has done his job of taking out the big guns, but as I look back into the main hangar, I see them. Bognarok fighters, long legs eating up the ground between us. I let rip a couple of pulsar bolts and duck back inside.

Where I find Draxx is fully shifted.

“Go,” he booms. “Get to your mate. Draco is on his way. I’ll hold them off until then.”

I hesitate. My need to go to Coral is almost overwhelming, but leaving a fellow warrior—I know that’s not something I would have done in the past or now.

Draxx releases a sheet of flame which would do a sun proud. There are sounds of squeaking and the scent of burning casings and flesh.

He might not need my help at the moment. I give him a grin and race into the trading section of Harbar. I only have the scent of my mate to guide me, and it is spread far too thin. Everywhere, there is damage wrought by the Bognarok bolts, traders and purchasers alike running like their lives depend on it.

“Sarkarnii!” someone calls out as I feel something hard bounce off my scales. “This is your doing!”

I round with a snarl, tail lashing, readying my shift, but instead of the enemy, I find a Lepke trader, all bristling antenna and fur.

“Your choice to trade on this moon,” I suggest. “A little battle goes with the territory. Harbar is what it is.”

He bares his blunt yellowing teeth at me, and then, like any trader, he shrugs.

“At least I’m not going to die for my folly,” he says and throws himself behind a large pile of rubble.

A psi bolt slams into my shoulder, and I’m in the air, spinning and ducking as I return fire at the group of Habosu, none of whom really know how to use their weapons but are emboldened by getting a hit in first. I take out three of them before a second cohort appears.

And they have a pulsar cannon, which doesn’t bode well for my trader friend.

I catch a further whiff of my mate, and with some effort not to shift, I duck and weave my way through the debris, letting rip with a number of pulsar bolts before tossing back a psi-grenade.

The resulting explosion makes my heart sing.

No one is keeping me from my mate. Not the conniving Habosu or the dangerous Bognarok. Her scent grows ever stronger as I pass through the machine market. For an instant, my way is blocked. The weapons section is heavily fortified, to avoid issues such as those wishing to do harm on Harbar having easy pickings. It means I have to go round, and I don’t have the time.

“Where the nev is Draco?” I growl under my breath as yet more bolts fly over my head and I spot the black spindly legs of a Bognarok.

I want to concentrate on finding Coral before I go into battle against my enemies, and I could do with a distraction.

There’s a violent explosion to my left, and several Bognarok fly into the air, smoke billowing around me as the air fills with growls. My shift hits without warning, and I’m filling my accelerant sacs, ready to flame when a figure steps through the smoke and grins up at me.

“Drasus!” Daeos shouts. “You’re here!”

A psi bolt slams into his upper arm and knocks him onto his scaly red ass as I flame his assailant out of existence before returning to my biped form.

Daeos is already back on his feet and grinning wider than ever. “Have you found your mate?”

“No, I was waiting for you bunch of nevvers,” I snarl back.

“Get ready for the best battle we’ve ever had, that you remember anyway.” Daeos chuckles, his eyes on fire with feral delight.

It’s a look I recognise in myself, the way I’m feeling at this very moment.

I want all the fight.

“Drasus?”

Her voice has me turning, not quite believing.

Coral stands among the destruction, and she is the best thing I will ever see in my life.

Because she is mine.