Sirius Read online

  Table of Contents

  Up to Now…

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Dax Sneak Peak

  Glossary

  Who’s Who

  Copyright

  Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series

  Sirius: Book Seven

  By Alana Khan

  Up to Now...

  About four months ago, aliens kidnapped ten Earth women and forced them into cells with ten gladiator slaves. Thrown together as random couples, they were ordered to mate under threat of death. (Click here to get a refresher of who’s who.)

  After overthrowing their captors they’ve been roaming the galaxy earning enough credits to keep ahead of their former owners, the MarZan cartel, as well as the evil governing Federation.

  In their travels, the original twenty people have picked up a few stragglers. One of whom is Sirius, a genetic ‘product’ of the Federation, tattooed with the number ‘972’ above his eyebrow. Bred to be super-soldiers, products are referred to as ‘geneslaves’ throughout the galaxy.

  The band of escaped slaves rescued Sirius, a male product with predominantly humanoid and canine DNA, about one month ago.

  Sirius

  Present Day

  Somewhere in space aboard the vessel Lazy Slacker

  Chapter One

  Sirius

  “Emergency, emergency! All souls to the bridge. Emergency, all souls to the bridge!”

  The urgent sound of Captain Zar’s voice wakes me. The klaxons blare insistently and the blinking emergency light in my cabin bathes everything in startling red tones.

  I’m up and out of bed, then running down the sterile metal hallways along with my shipmates. No one’s talking or asking questions. They all look panicked—wide-eyed and alarmed.

  All twenty-six people on board cram into the bridge, waiting to hear what’s guaranteed to be distressing news.

  “Please sit,” Zar’s tone is polite, but the muscles in his feline/humanoid face are rigid and tense.

  Many sit in the small jump seats ringing the rear of the bullet-shaped room. Several of the women sit on their male’s lap. I stand, my back against the exit door. I’m still an interloper. We all know I don’t belong—I’m a geneslave. They rescued me a standard lunar cycle ago, but they don’t trust me.

  “We received this communication a moment before I called you here. Callista, please play it in its entirety.”

  Every other one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that ring three-fourths of the room flicker to life with a vid of a humanoid male in a black-and-red Federation uniform. I glance out the windows and see three Federation warships: one port, one starboard, one straight off our bow.

  “Attention Lazy Slacker,” the male says. “You are in the sights of three Federation warships. Stand down immediately. If your engines are still running in thirty modicums we will consider it an act of sedition and follow war protocol.”

  The steady drone of the engines has ceased. Zar must have turned them off before his command to assemble on the bridge.

  “Our three ships are engaged in a little… off-the-books activity. We’re confident you won’t report us because it’s clear, with all your recent name changes, you’re engaged in illegal activities as well.”

  As he pauses, I realize the room is silent. Every eye is on the screens. I can smell the terror. My genetics don’t allow me to experience emotions like other beings. I feel no fear, just an enhanced state of alert.

  “Our intel indicates there are ten trained gladiators on board, which is perfect for our needs. You have sixty minimas to send us one fighter of your choosing. If you do not hail us back within that time frame, we will use our matter transporter to commandeer all of your fighting flesh, then destroy the vessel and all other beings on board.”

  He appears to look straight at us. “Sixty minimas, not a modicum more.” The vid goes dark, making it easier to see the three warships, their prows pointing menacingly at us.

  The room erupts in a buzz of fearful murmuring. A female is crying, but without stepping forward, I can’t make out who it is.

  “Please, I know this is frightening and disturbing. We now have…” Zar consults the computer screen on his comm unit, “fifty-one minimas to make this decision.”

  “Can we make a run for it?” Huge Dax asks in his deep, rumbling voice.

  “As you heard, they made us shut down our engines, it would take minimas to power them back up. We’ll be dead long before we escape,” Zar answers.

  “We can fight back,” scarred Stryker says, his face fierce as his hand absently strokes his female’s back.

  “Three well-equipped Federation warships versus ours? We’d be lasered to char before our first volley is complete. I’ve only known these facts a few minimas longer than all of you,” Zar says, “but neither fighting nor running are options. One of us needs to volunteer.”

  “I’ve never run from a fight,” Shadow says, the look on his face thunderous, “but I have my female to protect.” He hugs the tiny female on his lap even tighter.

  “We all have a female to protect,” Zar says evenly. “If no one volunteers, I’ll have the computer randomly select one of us.”

  I’m a geneslave, the last to join this band of runaway slaves. I have no female, no family—I was bred in a test tube. I’m such an aberration I don’t call anyone on board a friend.

  I wait a moment for one of them to point to me and not-so-tactfully suggest I should ‘volunteer’. I give them credit, not one of them even slides their eyes in my direction.

  “It’s obvious I should volunteer,” I say as I step forward. “I have no female, no purpose on board. I’m the most expendable. I’ll go.”

  The relief in the room is palpable. I can feel them all stand down.

  “Sirius…” Brianna’s face pinches in sadness. Perhaps she was going to tell me not to volunteer, then thought better of it. After all, she has two males to protect. The computer’s random program would make her twice as likely as the other females to lose a mate.

  “That is generous,” Zar says. “Admirable. But they demanded a gladiator.”

  “I’m a geneslave, built by the Feds to be stronger, faster, and better equipped to fight than any existing species in the galaxy. I’ve gained weight since you rescued me—it’s all muscle. Every one of you has sparred with me in the ludus over the last lunar cycle, teaching me new fighting techniques to add to what the Feds taught me. I’m as formidable an adversary as any of you.

  “We all know whatever the Feds have planned for me is not going to be a fair fight. Every being in this room knows whoever goes out that door is walking to a certain death. I understand that—I accept it.”

  “This isn’t fair,” Brianna says. “Sirius, you were born a slave. You’re finally free, about to embark on a new life.”

  “You’re right, Brianna. It’s not fair. But I’m the right choice. Thank you all for accepting me onto your ship. I’m ready.” I nod to Zar.

  “Dr. Drayke,” Zar says, “can you insert a tracking device under his skin? He may be new to our ranks, but he’s one of us now. He’s saving the life of every soul on board.” He turns toward me and says, “We’ll do everything in our power to save you, Sirius.”

  After the doctor inserts a tracker under the skin of my bicep, Brianna approaches me and throws her arms around my neck.