Read Online Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1) by Bobbi Ross - Free Book Online
Authors: Bobbi Ross
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Fantasy, Contemporary, Paranormal, Adult, Action, SciFi, Alien, Erotic, Alpha, Galactic Empire, invasion, captain, outlaw, Forever Love, galaxy, Cliffhanger, Warbird Razor, Fugitive, Deep Proteus, Space Station, Barbarian Alien, Alien Commander, Pregnant Male, Novokin, Alliance, Enslaving, Protectorate, Crew Lives
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shadow was nothing if not consistent.
It was well known that her people, could go for long stretches of time without eating. As much as I liked Anya, I didn't relish the idea of starving or freezing to death, only to be stored and then reheated for her as a vid-screen dinner.
I waited, not wanting to step on my engineer’s flair for the dramatic. She took the cue. "Number three, we get it from a passing ship."
I must've looked like a confused toddler, because Trex was looking back and forth at the two of us before his gaze became somber. "But we don't have anything to trade," I pointed out, not liking at all where this conversation was headed.
"I know," she mumbled, her eyes searching the room until she found a very interesting display panel to gaze into.
“ Prak the seven winds of Galinomo Valley! Chief, are you telling me that we’re about to be sitting ducks in Novokin space? Not more than spitting distance from the Deep Proteus space station 5 where just yesterday a new arrest warrant was issued for myself and the nine slaves we liberated?” I exploded, the heat in my body rising, as anger flooded my vision. “You’re telling me that my only choice to save my crew is to turn us all into criminals?” I asked again, not quite believing what I was hearing.
She simply nodded.
I rubbed my forehead and pushed my hair back trying to take a breath and clear my head. Could my day get any worse?
Chapter 2
"I will not sink to praking piracy," I growled, ready to explode from the rapidly building pressure inside my skull. Made that much worse by my unintended pun.
Keeping my hands open and my movements fluid I took a step back on the mat, looking for some kind of opening in his defenses, but came up short. The man was a fortress. I sidled in low, faking a sweep to his left leg, putting me in a position to attack his unprotected midsection with an openhanded strike. He sidestepped the fake kick easily then batted off my multiple thrusts and jabs without much effort. Now he was just playing with me. We had been sparring ever since our meeting with Anya in engineering. I needed to pound something and Trex was there, a willing victim. Plus, I hadn’t made up my mind about him. Had to keep him close.
I kept attacking, with deadly accuracy and razor-sharp quips. All the while he evaded and defended quietly. The more I attacked, the easier it seemed for him. I was dripping like a Cartusian rain forest monkey and I don't think he even broke a sweat. Unfair.
“Is that all you have got Captain? Your combat technique is seriously lacking. Is this how your Protectorate taught you to fight?”
Was he mocking me? His straight face gave up nothing. There was a glint in his green, gold speckled eyes; a warning of danger maybe, or something else I couldn’t quite decipher yet. I narrowed my own eyes over pursed lips. I’m usually able to read people right away and I liked it that way. It made sense.
I managed to sneak in two quick kicks to the side of his head. He was easily able to block the first, the second caught him in the cheek. “Got you! Who doesn’t have technique now, you Hyberian ox?” I gloated. He grunted and his nostrils flared even as a thin trickle of gold fluid weaved its way down to his jawline. We were only supposed to be practicing, but the building tension of the last couple of days had my blood boiling and my body itching for release in more than one way.
The ship's training room was a fully equipped Protectorate training center with both holographic combat sims and standard exercise equipment. Though, if given a chance, I preferred hand to hand combat with a real opponent. The adrenaline spike I experienced, attacking, defending and trying to anticipate my rival’s moves, helped me focus and think. What a better sparring partner than the 6'8" golden mountain of solid muscle threatening to pummel me if I gave him half a chance.
“You may not have a choice Captain,” he reasoned as he
It was well known that her people, could go for long stretches of time without eating. As much as I liked Anya, I didn't relish the idea of starving or freezing to death, only to be stored and then reheated for her as a vid-screen dinner.
I waited, not wanting to step on my engineer’s flair for the dramatic. She took the cue. "Number three, we get it from a passing ship."
I must've looked like a confused toddler, because Trex was looking back and forth at the two of us before his gaze became somber. "But we don't have anything to trade," I pointed out, not liking at all where this conversation was headed.
"I know," she mumbled, her eyes searching the room until she found a very interesting display panel to gaze into.
“ Prak the seven winds of Galinomo Valley! Chief, are you telling me that we’re about to be sitting ducks in Novokin space? Not more than spitting distance from the Deep Proteus space station 5 where just yesterday a new arrest warrant was issued for myself and the nine slaves we liberated?” I exploded, the heat in my body rising, as anger flooded my vision. “You’re telling me that my only choice to save my crew is to turn us all into criminals?” I asked again, not quite believing what I was hearing.
She simply nodded.
I rubbed my forehead and pushed my hair back trying to take a breath and clear my head. Could my day get any worse?
Chapter 2
"I will not sink to praking piracy," I growled, ready to explode from the rapidly building pressure inside my skull. Made that much worse by my unintended pun.
Keeping my hands open and my movements fluid I took a step back on the mat, looking for some kind of opening in his defenses, but came up short. The man was a fortress. I sidled in low, faking a sweep to his left leg, putting me in a position to attack his unprotected midsection with an openhanded strike. He sidestepped the fake kick easily then batted off my multiple thrusts and jabs without much effort. Now he was just playing with me. We had been sparring ever since our meeting with Anya in engineering. I needed to pound something and Trex was there, a willing victim. Plus, I hadn’t made up my mind about him. Had to keep him close.
I kept attacking, with deadly accuracy and razor-sharp quips. All the while he evaded and defended quietly. The more I attacked, the easier it seemed for him. I was dripping like a Cartusian rain forest monkey and I don't think he even broke a sweat. Unfair.
“Is that all you have got Captain? Your combat technique is seriously lacking. Is this how your Protectorate taught you to fight?”
Was he mocking me? His straight face gave up nothing. There was a glint in his green, gold speckled eyes; a warning of danger maybe, or something else I couldn’t quite decipher yet. I narrowed my own eyes over pursed lips. I’m usually able to read people right away and I liked it that way. It made sense.
I managed to sneak in two quick kicks to the side of his head. He was easily able to block the first, the second caught him in the cheek. “Got you! Who doesn’t have technique now, you Hyberian ox?” I gloated. He grunted and his nostrils flared even as a thin trickle of gold fluid weaved its way down to his jawline. We were only supposed to be practicing, but the building tension of the last couple of days had my blood boiling and my body itching for release in more than one way.
The ship's training room was a fully equipped Protectorate training center with both holographic combat sims and standard exercise equipment. Though, if given a chance, I preferred hand to hand combat with a real opponent. The adrenaline spike I experienced, attacking, defending and trying to anticipate my rival’s moves, helped me focus and think. What a better sparring partner than the 6'8" golden mountain of solid muscle threatening to pummel me if I gave him half a chance.
“You may not have a choice Captain,” he reasoned as he
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