Chapter 1 #2
Safeguards. Right. What were the safeguards worth when you were forty-seven kilometers from the nearest help?
The ship shuddered beneath them. A deep vibration traveled up through the floor and into her bones.
Autumn moved to the viewport, pressed her hand against the reinforced glass. “We’re entering the atmosphere. Look, we’re almost there.”
One by one, they joined her. The six of them crowded around the small window, watching as the planet’s surface came into view.
It was beautiful.
Juni hadn’t expected that. She’d expected alien and strange and maybe a little frightening.
But the world spreading out beneath them was gorgeous.
Rolling plains in shades of purple and gold, mountain ranges that caught the light of the twin suns, and huge forests that looked almost black from this height.
And in the distance, the glitter of what had to be the colony…
small and fragile against all that wild alien landscape.
And somewhere down there, forty-seven kilometers from that little cluster of buildings, was a ranch. And an alien man named Goraath who didn’t want her there.
“You going to be okay?”
The question came from Val, quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear. The older woman stood close, her shoulder nearly touching Juni’s.
She looked down at her datapad, still clutched in her hand. Goraath. Remote ranch. Northern territory.
Shit… was she going to be okay?
She didn’t have a choice. Back home, she had no job…
she’d been fired for reporting sexual harassment, and blacklisted from her industry.
Lost her apartment when she couldn’t make rent.
Spent three months in a shelter before she’d seen the advertisement for the Mate Program and thought, why the hell not?
But even they hadn’t been able to help her, and after weeks without a match, she’d been banished here.
Well… at least dying on an alien planet was more interesting than dying poor and alone on Earth.
She’d left behind everything she knew. Signed up to be shipped across the galaxy to marry a stranger from a species she’d only learned existed two years ago.
Crammed herself into a transport ship with five other desperate women and spent six weeks hurtling through space toward a future that was either salvation or the biggest mistake of her life.
She could handle one grumpy rancher.
“Yeah.” She met Val’s eyes. “I’m scared. But I’m doing it.”
Val nodded. “Attagirl.”
The ship shuddered again, harder this time as the descent thrusters fired.
The planet’s surface rushed up to meet them, close enough now that Juni could make out details.
The purple wasn’t grass; it was some kind of crop, grown in massive geometric fields.
The forests weren’t black but a deep blue-green.
And somewhere in those mountains to the north, an alien man was waiting for her.
She pressed her hand against the viewport, fingers splayed across the cool glass.
Her reflection stared back at her… heart-shaped face, too-bright eyes, auburn hair already escaping its ponytail.
Small. Soft. Completely wrong for a harsh frontier planet and a remote ranch and a life that would probably break her in half.
But her mom hadn’t raised a quitter.
Joy is a choice, Juni-bug.
She chose it now. Chose to believe this would work. Chose to believe she was strong enough. Chose to walk into the unknown with her chin up and her heart open, even though every instinct screamed at her to run.
The ship’s landing gear engaged with a mechanical groan. They were committed now. No turning back.
She took a breath, let it out slowly, and turned away from the viewport.
Time to meet her future.
The fence post had rotted through at the base.
Goraath crouched beside it, running his hand over the splintered wood. He should have replaced it last season, but the krulaati never came this far north in their grazing pattern, so he’d let it slide.
Sloppy.
He wrapped both hands around the post and wrenched it free. The wood came up with a wet sucking sound, bringing chunks of dark soil with it. Tossing it aside, he reached for the replacement he’d carried out from the equipment shed.
The twin suns hadn’t cleared the mountain peaks yet. The valley still sat in shadow, cold enough that his breath misted in front of his face. His favorite time of day. Quiet. Just him and the land and work that didn’t require words.
The new post slid into the hole. He packed soil around the base, then used the post driver to sink it deep. The rhythmic thud of metal on wood echoed across the empty fields.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Satisfying. Solid. Real.
Not like the trall waiting for him back at the house.
He’d been avoiding thinking about it since he woke up. It was easier to focus on fence lines and rotted posts and the hundred other small tasks that kept a ranch running. Easier than acknowledging that in a few hours, everything would change.
A female was coming to his house.
A human female.
From Earth.
To live with him for at least six weeks while they figured out whether they were ‘compatible.’
He hit the post harder. The impact vibrated up his arms.
Draanthing lottery.
The sound of an engine cut through the morning quiet. Goraath didn’t look up. Only one person would be coming out here this early, and he wasn’t in the mood for company.
The transport’s engine cut off. A door opened and slammed shut.
“You’re out here early.”
Uncle Gaauth’s voice carried across the field, gruff and amused. The old male moved with the stiffness of someone whose joints didn’t work quite right anymore, but his eyes were sharp as he approached.
Goraath grunted and kept packing soil around the post.
“Brought you supplies from town.” Gaauth stopped a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Figured you might need a few things before she gets here.”
“Don’t need anything.”
“Right. Because you’ve been preparing so thoroughly.”
The sarcasm landed like a punch. Goraath’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to it. Just kept working. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Gaauth waited. Patient. The old goat was as stubborn as hell.
The post sank deep enough so Goraath straightened, picked up the post driver, and finally looked at his uncle.
The old male’s face was weathered, scarred from decades of ranch work before he’d retired. His hair had gone mostly silver, still worn long in the traditional style but shot through with white at the temples. Those amber eyes missed nothing.
“She arrives this afternoon,” Gaauth said.
“I know.”
“Colony center’s going to be chaos.”
“Good thing I won’t be there to see it.”
“What?” Gaauth’s brow furrowed. “You have to collect her from the landing pad. All the hosts do.”
Goraath’s hand tightened around the post driver.
He’d been trying not to think about that part.
About standing in a crowd of curious colonists while a transport ship opened and six human females walked out.
About the spectacle of it. About having to meet her in front of everyone, and drive back to the ranch with a complete stranger sitting in his transport.
“Fine.”
“You ready?”
“No.”
The honesty surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say it.
Gaauth’s expression softened. “Did you prepare the guest room?”
Goraath looked past his uncle toward the house. It sat low against the hillside, built from stone and timber, designed to withstand the harsh winters and the winds that screamed down from the mountain peaks. “I’ll get to it.”
“Goraath.”
“I said I’ll get to it.”
Gaauth was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. “I bought supplies. Food, linens, and some things the other males suggested might make a human female more comfortable. I’ll bring them to the house.”
He didn’t wait for a response. Just turned and headed back toward his transport, moving with that careful deliberate pace that made Goraath’s chest tight.
His uncle was getting old. Too old to keep up with his own ranch, which was why Goraath was managing both properties now under the guise of Gaauth ‘showing him the ropes’. But they both knew that one day Gaauth wouldn’t wake up, just like Goraath’s father hadn’t all those years ago.
He didn’t want to think about that day.
Gathering his tools, he followed Gaauth back toward the house.
The krulaati were already stirring in their enclosure, massive six-legged shapes moving through the early morning mist. He’d need to feed them soon.
Check the water lines. Make sure the youngling that had been limping yesterday was moving better.
Ranch work. Normal work. Work that didn’t involve preparing for a female he didn’t want and hadn’t asked for.
By the time he reached the house, his uncle had already unloaded half the supplies onto the porch. Boxes and crates stamped with colony supply codes. Way too much for one person.
He frowned. “This is excessive.”
Gaauth straightened, one hand pressed to his lower back. “You have no idea what human females need. None of us do. Better to have too much than not enough.”
“She’s only staying six weeks.”
“You hope.”
The words hit wrong, and he turned to glare at his uncle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The old male wrinkled his nose. “Means the program’s designed for permanent matches. Means if you’re compatible, she stays. That’s the whole point.”
“We won’t be compatible.”
“You’ve decided that already?” Gaauth’s eyebrows lifted. “Without even meeting her?”
“I know enough.”
“You know nothing, pup. You’ve seen a file with basic information. That’s not knowing someone.”
He bit back his growl and grabbed one of the crates, heading for the door. The conversation was over. He didn’t want to talk about compatibility or permanent matches or any of the rest of it.
The house was dark inside. Cold. He hadn’t bothered to light the heating system yet this morning. It hadn’t seemed worth it when he’d be outside working most of the day.
Now the chill felt deliberate. Unwelcoming.