Marauder Kronos: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars)

“
K
ronos
,” Delphie says. “Are you sure we want to do this?”

“
Captain
Kronos,” I say, grinning. “And yes.”

Delphie rolls her eyes. We grew up together, but I’m the one who bought the ship. So I am the captain.

“It’s just…,” she starts to say, but then trails off.

“Look, Delphie,” I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. She feels tense.

Her ears pull back, and I flick mine up at her in response. We’re both “Fallen Seraphim.” Human-Marauder hybrids. We’re restless, and deep within us is a need to travel across the stars. To leave the human system behind.

But I’m a realist, and the Marauder way of life is dead. Being captain of my own ship might just scratch the itch for me.

“Kronos –
Captain
Kronos,” she rolls her eyes when she says it, which defeats the purpose of being called ‘captain.’ “It just seems like a really dangerous first mission for us. Shouldn’t we start off with something small?”

“We gonna’ get going, or what?” Ramu shouts across the command room.

He’s an older and grizzled full-blooded Marauder. His skin is deep purple, and he’s covered in scars. He’s part of my crew for as long as I can afford to pay him.

“Yes,” I say, voice confident. “Strap in, we’re heading out in just a minute.”

“Got it, Captain,” Ramu says.

“See?” I say. “He calls me captain without all the attitude.”

“You pay him to,” Delphie says. “I’m not getting anything up front.”

“All the more reason not to start small,” I say. “If we take some bullshit escort mission or cargo hauling job, after fuel costs, paying Ramu, maintenance...there won’t be much left to pay you.”

“So,
Captain
,” she says, “I just get paid whatever’s left over?”

I twitch my ears at her. “We’re doing this mission, Delphie.”

“So, we’re pirates then?”

I pull my ears back. “That’s open to interpretation….”

“Didn’t I just see Ramu loading torpedoes into the weapons bay?”

“Self-defense.”

“The mission is to steal cargo from a civilian ship, Kronos.”

“Captain,” I say, “but yes, we’re pirates, then.”

“I don’t like it.”

I press my finger into my chest and grin at her. “We’re not regular pirates. We’re pirates...with heart.”

“What does that even mean?” she asks, sighing.

“You’ll see.”

“
P
lease
, please!” I shout to the pilot. “Can you
please
fly more gently?”

“Look, Minnie – ” Captain Alderson grunts.

“Minna,” I say.

“Whatever,” he says. “I’m the captain. I tell the pilot how to fly.”

“Okay,” I say. “Can you please ask your pilot to not fly like a maniac?”

“No,” Alderson says, crossing his arms. “Why do you think your boss hired pros like us to shuttle you and your cargo to Venus?”

Pros. Right. Their ship is falling apart. Alderson’s jumpsuit is frayed at every seam and it looks stiff and crusty, as if he hasn’t washed it in months. My boss loves a bargain.

“Because of
pirates
,” Alderson says. “That’s why.”

The ship suddenly jostles, and I fall flat on my ass. When I try to get back up, the pilot jerks in the other direction, and I slide across the floor and hit the wall.

Alderson clutches a handrail and stands with his feet spread wide. He doesn’t fall.

I wait for him to reach down to help me up, but he just grins smugly at me until I get up myself.

“So,” I say. “Pirates are attacking us now?”

“No,” he says. “But they
are
tricky. Let’s say a pirate ship finds us on their scanners and starts tracking us.”

“Wouldn’t we see them?” I ask.

He narrows his eyes at me. “Pirates, especially fallen Seraphim, often have state of the art Marauder tech. They see us before we see them.”

That’s just because his ship is a bucket of shit, and it probably has decades-old scanners.

“Right,” I say. “So we have to swerve all over the place just in case?”

“Exactly,” he says.

I smile wide at Alderson and bat my lashes at him. “It’s just, Captain, my cargo is very delicate. You and your crew are so skilled...so maybe – ”

“Not going to work on me, Minnie. I’m gay. We’ll try to keep your precious cargo safe, don’t worry!”

“Minna,” I mumble under my breath, correcting him again, and turn to walk back down the hallway. I walk with my legs spread wide, and I make sure I’m always clutching a handrail. I don’t want to fall on my ass again.

I make it back – slowly – to the cargo bay.

In the center of the cargo bay, strapped and bolted down, is a clear plastic cage. It’s about as tall as me, and only a few square meters on either end. Inside the cage is the...technically it’s a biosuit. A biosuit that humans can wear.

That’s what it started out as, at least. The main issue with a Marauder biosuit is energy – they run on antimatter. They
can
run on regular food, but it’s wildly inefficient. If a human tries to wear a Marauder’s biosuit, it will consume the human from inside – fat, muscle, and bone.

This biosuit is different. It isn’t as powerful as a Marauder’s suit, but it needs much less food, as well. Back on Mars, we have dozens of prototype suits similar to this one – all not quite legal. Okay, actually, they are all
highly
illegal. But this one...the one I’ve been working on for two years, has evolved.

I open the top of the cage and drop in a stick of jerky.

The biosuit has formed itself into a cube to stabilize itself against Alderson’s evasive maneuvers.

When the jerky lands near it, it forms little stub legs out of the cube and slowly marches toward the jerky. It’s the only one of our prototypes that has shown signs of intelligence.

Then the ship jerks wildly. I try to brace myself against the cage, but I slip and fall.

And the biosuit lets out a surprised screeching sound as it tumbles back and hits the side of the cage.

“Damn it!” I shout.

I stand back up and check on the biosuit. It’s pulled its legs in again and is jiggling like a cube of Jell-O, letting out a low whining sound. Like a scared puppy. The jerky sits there, uneaten.

“Come on,” I say. “You’ve gotta’ eat.”

We’ve been on the ship for two days, and it hasn’t eaten. The other biosuits can just go dormant if there aren’t enough calories to power them. But I worry that this one might lose everything that makes it special if it doesn’t eat. I worry that it will starve.

“I’m sorry,” I say through the clear plastic. “If it were up to me, we’d have stayed on Mars. The peacekeepers want to have a look at you, and so we have to go to Venus.”

My boss knows how illegal our research is, and she hopes that by presenting this prototype to the peacekeepers, that we can be forgiven and given special license to continue conducting this research legally.

The biosuit jiggles and turns toward me as I speak.

Those assholes probably want to turn it into a weapon.

“I’ll keep you safe once we get there, okay?”

It forms legs again and creeps toward the jerky.

When it’s right next to it, it jumps, landing right on top of the jerky.

It pulls its legs in, and the jerky disappears beneath it. The cube jiggles furiously, and it makes satisfied humming noises.

I let out a relieved sigh and smile.

It really isn’t just a biosuit. I can’t keep thinking of it as ‘the biosuit,’ or ‘the cube.’ It reminds me too much of a pet.

“I should give you a name.”

“
C
aptain
,” Ramu says. “May I ask how we got our intel?”

I nod. “Some scientists hired a third-rate escort company to protect some prototype weapon. They’re bringing it from Mars to Venus, and we have their exact flight path.”

Ramu grins. “One of those security guys trying to play both sides?”

“Yeah,” I say. “He said their Captain is about to retire, and the company’s about to go under. The ship would be worth more as scrap, and no one on board has any fight left in them.”

Ramu leans back in his chair. “You probably could have saved your money and not hired me, Captain. Not that I’m complaining.”

“You never know,” I say. “Something could always go wrong, and Delphie’s an engineer, not a fighter.”

Delphie is running checks on all our weapons systems. She’s pulled a panel off and is on her knees, her face disappearing into the opening.

Ramu side-eyes her, but his eyes linger for a bit too long.

“Are you checking her out?” I whisper.

He winks at me.

“She’s like my sister.”

Ramu smiles and holds up his hands. “Whatever you say, Cap. She looks...strong. Probably she could bash some heads in a pinch.”

“What, you want to train her?” I ask.

“You ain’t paying me to train her.”

“I’m already paying you, and you’re not doing anything, so I want you to train her,” I say.

Ramu looks over to her again, and he locks his eyes on her ass. “All right,” he says.

But then the console beeps.

“Captain,” Lila, the ship’s computer, says. “We’ll be in range soon.”

“Show me,” I say, sitting up straight.

The main screen comes to life. A symbol for Mars displays in the upper right corner, while one for Venus appears in the lower left. Earth is shown in between. Our target isn’t going to go anywhere near Earth, but it will need to account for Earth’s gravity in order to reach Venus.

Our ship is shown near the middle of the screen, and our target is close to us.

“Zoom in,” I order.

“Yes, Captain,” Lila says.

I programmed her to always address me as captain, even for the smallest request.

The screen zooms in, and our ship now looks quite far away from the target.

“Why aren’t they flying straight along the flight path? It looks like the pilot is drunk, swerving like that.”

Ramu points. “Shitty ship like that has weak scanners. We see them, but they don’t see us. You can’t overload their heat dump with a laser if they ain’t flying straight.”

“I see,” I say.

My ship isn’t quite state of the art, but it’s decked out with a number of long-range tools.

“So let’s hit them with an EMP torpedo,” I say, trying to sound confident.

I’d never admit it to Delphie, but one reason I shelled out to hire Ramu is because of his overall experience. When I took mercenary pilot jobs, it was easy to just follow orders, but now that I’m calling the shots, it’s a different game. Ramu is already paying for himself as an advisor.

“Yeah,” Ramu says. “We could do that.” He sounds skeptical.

I narrow my eyes at the screen. “But…if they are hardened against EMP, that will give away our location.”

Ramu nods.

“Lila,” I say. “Continue in toward them, maintain max stealth.”

“Yes, Captain,” Lila says.

I see Delphie crawl out from under the console. She shuts the panel and starts to bolt it up.

“Lila,” I say. “How long until we’re in range to hold our laser on them?”

The laser is designed to overload the target’s heat dump. It slowly overheats the ship and the cabin, giving a pirate ship like mine good opportunity to demand surrender, or to demand they jettison their cargo. Blowing up a ship is not very profitable; intimidation is the name of the game.

“Two hours, Captain,” Lila says. “And I will let you know if they seem to have detected us, Captain.”

“You may want to notch down the ‘captain’ on that thing,” Ramu says.

I ignore him. “Delphie,” I say. “Go with Ramu to the cargo bay. He’s going to train you.”

“Train me?” she says, looking up at me like a sad puppy. She has grease streaks all over her face and hands. “For what?”

“Close combat,” I say.

“But...I’m the engineer.”

“How many people do you see on this ship?” I ask.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for
you
to learn close combat? If we are getting attacked and boarded, chances are I will need to be keeping the ship together and managing damaged subsystems. You can’t afford to have me fighting hand-to-hand.”

“I’m already good at close combat,” I say, flexing my huge biceps.

She knows I’m right. We’ve worked together as mercenaries before I bought the ship. I’ve worked as both a hired pilot and hired muscle, and I excel at both.

“Fine!” Delphie shouts.

I notice a tiny smile appears on her face when she looks up at Ramu.

“I’ll call you both back over when we’re close to the target,” I say.

Ramu and Delphie disappear down the main hallway. We’re accelerating at a constant .5g, so there’s artificial gravity, for now. Most real combat will happen in zero-g, but it’s good to be proficient in all types of gravity and acceleration.

The command room feels empty when it’s just me and Lila. I wonder if I should have hired another mercenary, or tried to get another full crew member on board.

But no, being a pirate captain is a lot like running a business. I need to keep my expenses down for profits to stay up. This prototype – once I steal it – will likely sell for a good chunk of cash. Anything that someone pays to protect is valuable. But I don’t know how much it’s worth until I actually sell it, and if I hire too many crew members, I risk losing money on the sale. Whatever I sell it for, I have to pay Delphie a percentage since she’s full crew. Ramu gets paid a fixed rate, so if the prototype ends up being super valuable, he doesn’t get paid any extra.

I nod to myself. One merc and one full crew is good for now. As I get more money in the bank, I can expand the crew and take on bigger jobs.

After about an hour and a half, Lila flashes the screen to get my attention.

“What is it?” I ask.

“They’ve altered their trajectory,” Lila says. “I think they know we’re coming, Captain.”

“Get Delphie and Ramu back in here!”

“Yes, Captain,” Lila says.

A few minutes later, Delphie and Ramu walk back in. They are drenched in sweat and Delphie is panting. Ramu says something to her, and she laughs.

“Quiet!” I shout.

They give each other a look.

Forging bonds between my crew is important, but not if they cut me out.

“What we got, Captain?” Ramu asks.

“They see us,” I say.

Ramu looks over the screen and data.

“We’re not in laser range yet,” I say, “but I can waste a bunch of their fuel.”

Ramu nods.

I’ve seen another pirate captain do this before. Even though I can’t get the laser locked on them well enough to overheat their ship, I can force them into needing to make costly evasive maneuvers, which burns up huge amounts of fuel and lets us get closer to them.

“Lila,” I say. “Let loose.”

“Yes, Captain,” she says.

The screen displays a red beam blast out of our ship – it’s all just symbols and not real images – and seconds later it hits their ship. They’re still a few light seconds away from us, which is why they can still manage to evade the laser.

I wait for them to evade, but their ship remains locked in a straight path, pointed away from us.

“Why aren’t they dodging?” I ask. “Is the laser hitting?”

Then I see their ship begin to accelerate. We’ve been gaining ground on them the entire time, but now it’s started to move faster than us.

The laser cuts off.

“Captain,” Lila says. “It seems they have a light sail.”

I slam my fist down on the console. “You’re shitting me! My inside guy said they didn’t have a lot of fight in them! What the hell did I pay him for?”

“Technically, Captain,” Delphie says, “deploying a light sail into our laser to accelerate faster away from us isn’t ‘fighting.’ It’s running.”

Once the laser cuts off, their acceleration starts to die down, and we begin gaining ground on them again.

I point to the screen. “They aren’t running so well now, are they?”

I look over at Ramu. He’s shirtless from training, and his muscular and scarred body is glistening in sweat. Every vein on his body is bulging out.

I pull my jacket off and throw my undershirt to the ground.

I drop to the ground and start doing pushups.

“Kronos,” Delphie hisses. “What the hell are you doing?”

Pushups in .5g don’t do much. “Stand on my back, Delphie.”

“What –?”

“Do it!” I shout.

She stands on my back, and I finally feel my muscles working.

Ramu is watching me with his arms crossed.

“Lila” I ask, panting. “The ship has all human crew, right?”

“Bio scans give 95 percent certainty that their crew is fully human.”

“Good,” I whisper, still doing pushups.

After I feel sweat dripping down my face, I order Delphie to step off, and then I stand up.

“Get your weapon, Ramu,” I say, “and grab me the scariest looking thing you can find in there.”

“We’re gonna’ board their ship?” Ramu asks.

Delphie gives me a worried look.

“Just get the weapons.”

Ramu nods and heads toward the weapons locker. He grabs his own blade, which is a small blade with a toothed edge and a blunt blade on the end.

“No,” I say, “that thing looks puny; get a scary-looking one.”

Ramu scowls at me. “Puny? It won’t look puny when I cut through their throats and skulls!” The veins in his neck bulge again as he shouts.

“Perfect,” I say. “Now get a big, scary-looking weapon for both of us.”

He grabs two ceremonial swords from the locker. They have teeth on them like hacksaws, and they are stained with dried blood.

“You didn’t clean your blades?” Ramu says, looking down at them.

“Get one for Delphie,” I say, not answering his question.

“Kronos,” she says, “I just trained one time, I’m not – ”

I snap my fingers. “I’m the captain! Do what I say; we’re wasting time!”

Ramu hands one of the huge swords to Delphie, and then he brings me the second sword.

“Great,” Ramu says. “Now we all have big dumb swords. You ever fought on a ship in zero-g, Captain? Swords like this ain’t so good in cramped crawl spaces and halls.”

“I’m going to send them a message,” I say. “I want you all to look as scary as you fucking can. All right?”

Ramu’s face softens, and he smiles.

“No smiling!” I snap at him. “I want you fucking angry!”

“I got it, Cap,” he says. “I’m saving it all up. Tell me when.”

Delphie shakes her head. “This is ridiculous.”

“Do you want to fight?” I ask. “Or do you want to get paid?”

“I want to get paid,” she mumbles, her ears pulling back.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s all get shoulder to shoulder.”

We stand shoulder to shoulder, Ramu in the middle. I’ve got more defined muscles than he does, but he’s bigger overall, and his scars really sell the whole thing.

“I’ll do the talking,” I say. “You two just look angry and bloodthirsty.”

They nod.

“Begin recording, Lila.”

“Yes, Captain.”

We raise our blades, and I shout in a frenzied voice, flexing my muscles as sweat drips down my body. “This is Kronos of the
Time’s End
!” I point the sword toward the screen. “Power down your weapons and jettison your cargo, or we will board your ship, drink your blood, and grind your bones to dust!”

Ramu lets out a terrifying battle cry, and his muscles tremble as he roars.

Delphie slams the flat back of the sword into her chest, pulls her ears back, and bares her teeth. She hisses so loudly that spit pools on the sides of her mouth.

“This is your only warning!” I roar.

“End broadcast,” Lila says.

I let my body go slack and drop the sword. “Good job, Ramu.”

“What about me?” Delphie asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Are you a fucking cat?”

“Hissing is scary!” she snaps.

“We’ll see,” I say. “Let’s see how they react.”