Conquered by the Alien Dragon Read online

  "It was a nice change from the normal operations to have a guest. We don't get nearly as many as we'd like."

  "You know, this is a beautiful planet. Perhaps we could arrange some sort of transport service. We bring you tourists, you send back water." I motioned around me. "The tourists could pay handsomely for a vacation on your lovely planet. We have many a wealthy family with credits to their name that would like to escape Thirren for a week or two. Then we could look into expanding, bring in other species from other planets. This could become quite a lucrative endeavor for both of our races."

  His eyes narrowed on me, and he put his head in his hand. "Eat," he commanded. "I will think about this idea. It is a good one." He watched me put food in my mouth with a pensive look on his face.

  Soon, something in my stomach lurched. I burped. "Please, excuse me. I don't know where that came from."

  I continued to eat but realized I was dizzy, light-headed. "Did you put something in this food?" I felt like I'd been consuming alcohol, but I hadn't had that much to drink since my naming ceremony. It had been a disaster, so I'd drank myself into oblivion.

  Standing, I tried to back away from the table.

  Chiron laughed. "Did you think you could return to our planet and find us welcoming you? You think you rule over us from afar, like overlords or some sort of ruling class. You have no power here, Drakon."

  I stumbled backward, landing on my ass. Coovians streamed from the woods, and an alarm sounded from my ship. My vital signs were programmed into the ship's database by my uniform. They must've been going crazy for the alarm to go off. Every member of the crew would be receiving an alarm on their comms unit, demanding an instant return to the ship or risk being left behind. The crew members currently assigned to be on board streamed out, shooting laser-powered weapons at the Coovians, who returned fire with their arrows. Arrows would have to be fired a lot harder than a Coovian arm was capable. I did not worry for my men against such foes.

  Unfortunately, more of them streamed out of the woods, as well as the Pax that were supposed to be slaves. We'd been duped far more than I'd suspected.

  "Get us off the ground as soon as the crew is back," I gasped as Chase lifted me behind the arms and dragged me onto the ship.

  Oslow took me from him and lifted me into his arms. Not an easy feat for an older Drakon, especially as large as I was. "They poisoned me. In my food." That was the last thing I could get out before my mind went totally fuzzy.

  16

  Leti

  I paced the medibay floors. Oslow still wouldn't let me leave. I was fairly sure that Illion wouldn't send me back to the pits, and life on the ship was definitely preferable to that, so I wanted to be let loose. If I was free on the ship, I could make my way to the kitchens or exercise room to find something to relieve the constant boredom of being in the medical ward. The only thing that had kept me from completely losing my mind had been the few times Oslow had allowed me into his lab. He'd shown me how to use their medical equipment but wouldn't let me in there unless he was there to supervise. And he hadn't been in the lab often.

  Sirens suddenly went off, flashing red and so loud I clapped my hands over my ears. Oslow ran from the room, and I followed. Rules be damned. If he was needed somewhere, maybe I could help.

  He went straight for the exit door, stopping when Lieutenant Chase dragged Illion in. I gasped. Illion was foaming at the mouth, and his skin, normally many shades of blue, ranging from the whitest-blue sky color from Earth to the deepest sapphire, was so pale he was nearly translucent. I could see his blood pumping through veins that would be visible if he paled any more.

  He said something to Doctor Oslow before passing out completely. I ran ahead of Oslow back to the medibay. "Regular bed or hydration?" I yelled behind me.

  "Regular, until we find out what the poison is."

  I pulled the sheet back on the bed and prepared to do anything Oslow said. Oslow grabbed a syringe and I ripped Illion’s uniform away from his chest. Tugging it off of his arms proved difficult while he was lying on his back, but I managed it.

  "Should we pump his stomach?" I asked.

  Oslow nodded his head, but not before a bit of irritation flashed across his face. Maybe he was mad at himself for not thinking of it first.

  We turned Illion onto his side and Oslow went into the lab, returning with a needleless syringe filled with a brown liquid. I held Illion's nose while Oslow forced the nasty-looking liquid down his throat.

  He began to retch in minutes, bringing up his breakfast along with the liquid he'd swallowed. "Maybe that'll help a little," I murmured as I stroked his bare back under his wings. They were limp, half unfolded behind him. I left him on his side in case he needed to retch any more.

  The ship shuddered suddenly. "I suppose they got the rest of the crew on board," Oslow said. "The engines just started."

  "Would they leave anyone?" I asked.

  "Depends on how overwhelmed we are by the enemy. Drakon can take quite a beating and still make it through. Many can still fly on board with us in the air as well. I'd say quite a few are waiting, hidden, to do so. We should manage to take off with most of them on board."

  Illion began to thrash around on his bed, and it took Oslow and I both to get him strapped down. I hated the sight of the big strong Drakon immobilized and still so pale. "Isn't there something you can give him?" I asked.

  "The medicine to empty his stomach is still working. I'm going to take his blood to the lab and analyze it, to see what poisons we're working against."

  He grabbed the syringe he'd started to use when I'd suggested making him vomit. He pushed the rounded tip into the fairly soft skin in Illion's armpit. As he drew back the plunger, I discovered that Drakon blood was not red. I didn't know what had made me think their blood would be the same color as mine, but I was surprised to see orange.

  I yearned to study it under the microscope, to see what else was different from my own, but I also wanted to stay near Illion, to keep an eye on him.

  The ship lurched again, then shuddered. Oslow looked up. "Steady there, boys," he said. "We're lifting off. Must have the last of them on board." Another shudder made him look a little more worried. "That felt like a hit."

  "You think they're shooting at us?" I asked. What else was going to happen during my misadventure in space?

  "Most likely." Doctor Oslow left for the lab, leaving his scanner on the bed beside Illion. I grabbed it. I'd been wondering how it worked. I'd soon find out.

  The screen was in a language I couldn't read, of course. Apparently, the thing around my neck worked on spoken language only.

  I set the stupid scanner aside with a sigh. The corner of the room held a sink, so I rustled around in Oslow's cabinet until I found a small cloth, the size of a washcloth back home. Wetting it in the sink, I returned to Illion, slowly bathing his face. When the cloth dried from the heat of his skin, I rewet it, over and over. Eventually, I started dipping it in the hydration fluid of the bed next to Illion, which took longer to dry out. It didn't seem to do him any good, but at least I wasn't just sitting there staring at him.

  As badly as I wanted to offer my help to Oslow, I couldn't leave Illion's side. What if something happened and he needed me while I was gone?

  "I think we're out of the Coovian atmosphere," Oslow called from the lab.

  "Good!" I exclaimed. "Good riddance. Can I help?"

  "I'm almost done. I think they used a naturally occurring poison from the leaves of a fruit they love. You can eat the fruit, but the leaves will kill."

  "Do you have an antidote?"

  "I do."

  That was a big relief. I didn't know what would happen to me if Illion died. I was sure Chase was a competent and kind leader, but he hadn't shown much personality toward me in the few times we'd encountered one another. I had no idea what to think of him.

  Oslow returned to Illion's bedside with a syringe filled with medicine. "This should do the trick," he said. "If you'll not
ice, you can only take blood or give injections in a couple of places on a Drakon's body. We have soft skin around the pits of our arms and under our caudals and around the groin area. The rest of our body is covered in scales that range from skin-like to hard as diamonds."

  He indicated on Illion's body where the softer scales were. "You'd still have a hard time inserting a needle into this skin, though a very sharp knife could do the trick."

  I ran my finger along the scales. They really felt like a snake but were stronger, thicker. "What about the space between the scales?" There was a minuscule line between each scale.

  "You could get a small enough needle in there, but it's very difficult. Much easier to just use the underarm area."

  I nodded. Useful info if I managed to convince Illion I'd be more useful to him as a doctor.

  Oslow walked to the cabinet where most of his supplies were kept. "You can't read Drakon, can you?" he asked.

  I shook my head sadly. "If I could, I'd be reading your medical journals."

  "Do I have a treat for you young lady."

  He walked back with a medical journal and a handheld device that looked suspiciously like an mp3 player from Earth.

  "Press this button." He put the device in my hand and pointed to a button on the side. I pressed it, and a red line appeared, like a scanner. He opened the book to the first page.

  "Scan the page with the light. Slowly."

  I did as he instructed, scanning top to bottom very slowly.

  "Now press the button on the other side of the device."

  I did, and a robotic voice came from the device. "History of Drakonian Medicine. Volume One." The voice continued with the name of the author, and other relevant publishing information. Even Drakonian publishers put a ton of info in their books to claim their rights to it.

  I smiled at Oslow in delight. "This is amazing! Is it speaking English?" I asked.

  "No, it's speaking Drakonian, but your chip in your collar is filtering the language out."

  "Thank you."

  He smiled. "You keep an eye on him and start your studies. After your exemplary work, I'm going to convince him he needs to let you study with me. You're more valuable as a physician than a breeder."

  Delighted, I dug into the tome, absorbing every fact I could, my brain sucking up the information like a dry sponge. It was fascinating, learning about the Drakonians, and thinking of the differences between their species and mine.

  I bathed Illion’s brow as I read, part of my brain keeping a close watch on him, monitoring his temperature, noting the cadence of this breathing. Time passed slowly as I read and he slept fitfully. I soon realized he was dreaming.

  17

  Illion

  The light was wrong and the corners fuzzy. That's how I knew it was a dream. I couldn't pull myself out of it, though, no matter how much I didn't want to relive the memory.

  My naming day.

  Every rotation, at midsummer, all the Drakon children that would turn thirteen during that rotation attended their naming ceremony. It was a tradition going back as long as anyone could remember, with roots in the birth of Thirren, so they said. I didn't know who they were that everyone talked about, but the naming ceremony was important in our society. Without it, I'd never have been able to join the warriors, or eventually, earn my own ship or crew. I had to have a name.

  Unfortunately, I didn't have a name to be bequeathed upon me, which meant that I would be named after my hatch-site, the town in which I'd been born. Since my mother was a Hielsrane, I was allowed to keep that name as well but had to hyphenate it with my hatch-site. A mark of a smearling, a fatherless Drakon.

  My mother was proud of me, beaming up at me from the crowd. She didn't feel the same way about my name. She was proud to have raised a son on her own, without the help of a male, but her pride didn't stop the teasing or my anger.

  It just stopped me from letting her see it. I hid it from her at all costs, though I suspected she knew. She thought the kids had outgrown teasing me for being a smearling.

  "Illion Hielsrane." The prince, heir to the throne of Thirren, was the officiate of this naming ceremony.

  I stepped forward onto the dais, the sun baking down on my wings. They hadn't darkened to their full color yet but would within the next rotation or so. It was one of the few things I had to be proud of: my color had darkened before the jerk Rethryn's did. He was still pale pink, like a damn baby.

  "Illion, s—" The Prince choked on his words. The speech normally mentioned 'son or daughter of,' but in my case, there was no father to name.

  His Majesty cleared his throat. "Illion, you are tasked with upholding your family's honor, bringing glory to the Hielsrane, the Royal family, and Thirren. Do you accept this responsibility?"

  My hesitation caused a snicker from the line behind me. I just knew it was Rethryn. I jutted out my chin. "I accept it with pride," I said, then bowed to the Prince, as was customary. We'd been through the motions of the naming ceremony countless times with our instructors, ready for this moment.

  "Then I name you Illion Nevrin-Hielsrane, defender of the Hielsrane clan." The prince handed me my first real weapon, a base model shooter that wouldn't kill anyone. Maybe if I shot Rethryn directly in the eye. I mused on that as I walked off the platform and joined my mother in the crowd. I ignored the lackluster applause from the crowd and stared at my feet as Rethryn was named Rethryn Hielsrane. No hyphen for him. Of course.

  "Illion?" my mother asked me. "Illion?" Her voice was distorted. I stared at her lips, trying to figure out why she sounded so far away. "Are you going to wake up?" The crowd melted away, until it was just me and my mom, standing in the sunlight.

  "Mom?" I touched her cheek. "Why do you sound so strange?"

  Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Then her voice surrounded me, but her lips didn't move. "Illion, it's time to wake up."

  "What the hell?" I said but realized I’d been dreaming. I'd forgotten as the dream progressed. My voice was scratchy, and everything hurt. "Leti?"

  "Shhh, I'm here. You don't have to talk."

  "Don't leave me." I couldn't quite open my eyes. I wanted to see her.

  "I'm not going anywhere." Her voice soothed me. I didn't want to sleep any more, though. I didn't want to dream. Why hadn't I listened to Carissa and left Coovoo immediately?

  My thoughts of self-loathing were interrupted by another dream overwhelming my consciousness. As before, I knew at first that it was just a dream, but as it wore on...

  "Illswing, Illswing!" The kids in the class whispered the nickname they'd given me behind my back. It wasn't particularly offensive, but anything to hurt me. I ignored them, trying my mother's tactic. I always wanted to rip their heads off, but she swore if they didn't get a rise out of me they'd stop bothering.

  Their taunts continued, whispered behind me as the teacher ignored us. I opened my mouth to tell them to jump in a volcano when the dream shifted, becoming the recurring dream I'd had as long as I could remember. My father, returning to claim me. I'd always had a suspicion about who my father was, ever since I found a letter in my mother's drawer. It had been a letter saying goodbye, that even though their love was great, the Drakon had to choose duty over love. He was leaving for a dangerous mission and had to marry his arranged betrothed before he left.

  The name was cut off, but I'd done research about the missions that had departed Thirren during the time of my hatching. Only a couple of Drakon warriors had been possibilities, and only one of them married right before the mission departed. Wrelell Hielsrane, a very distant cousin of my mother's, and world-renowned warrior. He'd died on that mission, never to return to Thirren.

  Based on the timing, he had to have been my father, but it made no sense that my mother would refuse to name him. Drakon culture was hard on a child born out of wedlock, but a child born without any named father? It had been torture.

  My dream continued, with my father Wrelell stepping off of a dilapidated warship, arms outstre
tched. "My boy," he cried. "I came as soon as I could." We hugged, and he explained he'd been a prisoner on a Pax planet all the rotations of my life. "I fought my way off the planet and stole this ship," he continued. "So I could come to see my boy." Joy exploded in my heart. Finally, I would be able to wipe the smug smile off of Rethryn's face and claim my rightful place among the Hielsrane elite.

  His face warped, then faded to nothing. Disappointment replaced the joy. Oh, yeah. It was a dream. Again.

  Pain wracked my frame again, but slightly less than the time before when I'd floated to the edge of consciousness. "Illion?" A beautiful voice broke through the pain.

  "Leticia," I moaned. I wanted to see her, to hold her. I couldn't seem to move, though. As much as I didn't want it to, the dreams pulled me under again, except the pain went with me that time.

  "Not this again," I muttered, not sure what was real anymore. I found myself on the battlefield, explosions all around me. My unit followed behind me as I surged forward, eager to rip the fur off of those little white monsters. They'd gathered ships enough to pose a real threat.

  As a young Drakon with no ship of my own yet, I was relegated to the ground troops. I didn't mind, the glory of battle was recompense enough to soothe the hurt at being excluded from the aircrews.

  My uncle Lehar had arranged it. "Prove your worth, boy. We all know how to fight in the air, we're bred to fly. Mastering the ground? The royal family will reward you handsomely."

  "For glory," I shouted, and ran toward a large group of Pax streaming out of an abandoned house.

  We fought with blasters, swords, and our claws. Sometimes the dragon came too close to the surface, so there were several flying around, lifting Pax up high and dropping them, killing them instantly. A few of the older dragons flew around, many of which should have been evacuated, but they were old enough to be able to breathe fire, and they released the molten hot flames on groups of Pax warriors.