Galaxy Warrior Favian: Alien Abduction: Galaxy Series 8 Read online

  Galaxy Warrior Favian

  By:

  K.L. Wallen

  Alien Abduction: Galaxy Series 8

  Dedication:

  To all of those with an open heart and mind. May you never change, for you are truly blessed. I hope you find, if you haven’t already, your own tongue-licking hunk!

  I will be setting up a new website for the series and will post the new website on my Facebook page at klwallen or galaxywarriorseries.

  Should you wish to drop me a line to say hello, make a suggestion, let me know of a mistake, or something you liked to see in an upcoming book, my email is [email protected] I do read all of my emails and I do not spam or sell names and emails. I do often respond though to your email. Truthfully, it’s nice to hear from readers. It makes me feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.

  It is not necessary to read set 1, but doing so would provide you a better understanding since it’s a Space/Earth soap opera. That being said, do read the Catch-Up if you haven’t read the first set.

  Please leave a review. Just a simple sentence or two on your favorite part or character. Reviews keep me incentivized to keep writing! Thank you, Karen

  Copyright:

  Published by: K.L. Wallen, 2017

  Cover Art by: K.L. Wallen, 2017

  ISBN: 978-1-5323-1738-5

  © February 2017, by K.L. Wallen

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters, and events are of the author’s imagination. Some locations come from the author's imagination, while a few others are places that exist, and have been fictionally modified to enhance the story line. Any resemblance to living persons is merely coincidence.

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written consent by the author, with the exception of common quotes. This book has been submitted to the U.S. Copyright office, and is protected under International copyright laws. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Piracy will be reported. Copyright infringement carries stiff penalties as outlined at http://www.fbi.gov/ipr

  Contains sex scenes, violence, and language some may find offensive. Adult readers only.

  I hope you enjoy this second set in the series. Although not necessary, I recommend you read the books in the first set before this series, so it will be less confusing, and you’ll get to experience the full exasperating/fun rollercoaster ride between humans and aliens. This is a soap opera, or rather space opera!

  Galaxy Warrior books—set 1 (An outer space/Earth opera!):

  Galaxy Warrior Slotan, book 1 (contains more sexual scenes than other books)

  Galaxy Warrior Twins, book 2 (fun and quirky)

  Galaxy Warrior Zepar, book 3 (much more intense, Kodiak, the fearless and deadly Navajo godfather enters the picture along with his goddaughter Olivia Phillips. Kodiak’s creed—touch my goddaughter and die.)

  Galaxy Warrior Gorgo, book 4 (the brother torn between his first love, and the human woman willing and wanting to be his)

  Galaxy Warrior Phataz, book 5 (the brother who sees human females as unworthy! He gets his comeuppance. Repeatedly. Book after book.)

  Galaxy Warrior J’Quil, book 6 (the powerhouse who is as tender as they come, but can he protect the psychically gifted hacker?)

  Galaxy Warrior Traven, book 7 (the brother torn between wanting a human female, and his upcoming promotion to Commander. He can’t have both. Extended: includes trip home, arrival, and a short about our beloved Kodiak at the end. Conclusion of the first Galaxy Warrior Series)

  Set 2 references back to set 1, but continue the soap opera, with new warriors and honored guests.

  Basic Catch-Up:

  If you have not read series 1: This is a space/Earth soap opera. Although not necessary, it’ll make more sense if you read the first set before this second set.

  The Pzianian warriors from the Guardian are replacing the warriors from the Galaxy Hunter, who have left for Pzianian with their honored guests.

  MISSION & BACKGROUND:

  Thalmar, the Pzianian Leader, ordered the eight sons of his next in command, Co-Leader Bronis Scorpak, to venture to the planet Earth. Suspecting problems with a couple of the lead scientists on their home planet, Thalmar needed information provided by these scientists discretely verified. Twice, every century, probes have been sent to Earth to monitor our progress. Leader Thalmar was secretly informed by a few lower grade scientists that information being handed over was not entirely accurate.

  The eight brothers were to verify the integrity of the information, collect data not provided, and retrieve honored guests in varying fields. Thalmar felt Earth’s society may be evolved enough to enter into mutually beneficial negotiations, for exchange of natural resources and technology.

  This was to be Fleet Commander Slotan Scorpak’s last mission before taking a permanent post on their home world. Slotan oversees more than 250 Pzianian warships, and has tens of thousands of warriors, male and female, under his command.

  He and his brothers expected to arrive at Earth and find that not much progress has been made. Fleet Commander Slotan and his brothers were shocked to discover how quickly Earth’s technology was advancing. What stunned them more were the diverse, loving, difficult, intelligent, frustrating, creative, crafty, sexually intriguing humans who seem to have formed a language that makes no sense whatsoever. Slotan captured the heart of one such beauty, Honored Guest Laurel MacKenna (note: Laurel is the one who left the Mandatory How to Manuals for Commander Gharm’s group of warriors ;-)). Her cousin Moira was mistakenly abducted and fell in love with Slotan’s twin brothers, Breneem and Bolano.

  What left the warriors in a state of shock was to discover that many humans have unique abilities that are associated with the gods and goddesses. They located two such individuals, one of whom with the ability of precognition and saved their home planet from destruction.

  The Pzianian race compared to those on Earth, have distinctly different cultures and styles in verbal communication. Pzian language is straightforward. They returned to Pzianian with a number of honored guests in various fields of study, gathered much unknown material, made contact with Director Lee at the Department of Defense, and then headed home. Fleet Commander Slotan handed off the second portion of gathering information and more honored guests to Commander Dorn Gharm of the Guardian Warship.

  Pzianians are a warrior race, not by choice, but by necessity. Centuries past, they were approached by another race, who sought to enslave them and strip-mine their planet. Their planet’s leader at the time, Privok, implemented a mandatory D.N.A. enhancement program for all Pzian citizens. His genetic manipulation plan saved the Pzian race and planet; however, in the rush to secure their existence, the scientists failed to realize that the changes were not a one-generation boon.

  The society they once loved, similar to Earth’s family structure, is remembered by only a small portion of the population. Approximately ten-percent of the Pzianian population follow the old traditions and reside in single-family units, staying faithful to their life-mates, and rearing their children, when they are on holiday from the warrior academy.

  The remainder of Pzian males and females live separately and enter into breeding contracts. Sex for the ninety percent of the population has become a mechanical act for procreation, and a very rare sexual encounter solely for a quick release, and not targeted for pleasure. Younglings (children) produced split their holiday time between their parents. The time spent with each parent is part of the contract negotiations.

  Pzians base decisions on logic and history—not gut feelings. Nor do they possess
unique gifts, with the exception of a sometimes-shared mind link between identical twins. This is as gifted as Pzians get. To say the discovery that humans have various unique gifts, granted by the gods and goddesses, has sent their mission in a tailspin is an understatement.

  Primary Alien and Honored Guest Characters are listed in the Glossary.

  Primary Alien Characters for this set are listed in the Glossary.

  Reviews are important and incentive to keep writing. Please leave one. A simple sentence or two on a favorite part, or character, is appreciated.

  Contents:

  Dedication

  Legal Matters/Copyright

  Basic Catch-Up

  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

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Excerpt of Book 9: Galaxy Warrior Tyce

  Glossary

  Appreciation

  Chapter 1

  (If you haven’t read set 1, read Basic Catch-Up)

  When Dr. Stacy Randall first moved to this small Minnesota town, she ran right after she came home from work, and late mornings on the weekends. What she discovered is that raising your hand in welcome to your neighbors only got a quick glance before they turned away. This was particularly true of the women in the neighborhood. The men simply raised their hands and coveted her until she was out of sight. They never said hello, nor did they turn their heads to see if their wives were staring at them from the front window as they suspected. The children were much kinder and sometimes would say hello. But kids will be kids, and had little more time than to express a simple hello, and Stacy would never strike up a conversation with one that she wasn’t introduced to by the parents first.

  Eventually, Stacy felt uncomfortable enough to change her jogging times so she wouldn’t be so blatantly ignored. She often thought that she was as much to blame for the cold reception, since she had not taken the initiative to stop and introduce herself to her neighbors. Now, she’s too embarrassed to try, and believes that they would be courteous but not particularly friendly. As such, she prefers to run once the families are enjoying dinner, watching television, helping their kids with their homework, and unlikely to notice her jogging past. Fortunately, her neighbors pull their kids in early enough that there is still an hour or so left before night falls.

  Stacy knew this lack of small town hospitality shouldn’t bother her, but it did. This place is like every other place she has ever lived. She used to attribute the lack of people wanting to give her a chance to her unusual, ultra-pale blue eye color. People often seemed to freak out, go speechless, or ask her if her eyes were a birth defect, or if she were going blind. All throughout school, a few girls let her know, year-after-year, what was anonymously being relayed about her behind her back, by both the girls and the boys. Stacy had believed Jan to be her best friend for the longest time, until she finally grew tired of the mixed emotions constantly being tossed at her, and realized that the majority of the talk she heard wasn’t so much from the other kids but was from Jan originating and relaying the gossip. The sad fact was that Jan was her only friend, since, as Jan put it, the others were too afraid she was some type of a witch or something because of her eyes.

  She hoped that once she got her degree, landed a job elsewhere, that she might meet people who were adult enough to not stare or judge her because of her glacial eyes. Stacy now wonders if she isn’t putting more emphasis into the looks her neighbors toss her way, based on her experiences growing up.

  Leaving her sunglasses in her purse, she prepared for her evening run. This particular evening is a tad on the chilly side but still tolerable enough to wear Capri leggings with a short-sleeve t-shirt. Another week, and a windbreaker and longer running pants would definitely be needed. Tonight’s skyline highlights a pearl essence exquisitely peppered throughout the sparse clouds, providing a sort of ethereal glow. It’s truly a crisp, beautiful Fall evening, worthy of being featured on a wall calendar for the month of October.

  Soon, the brittle snap of winter will close-in and running outdoors will become sporadic. The idea of dragging her bulky, hideous treadmill out of the basement was unappealing, but given her ill-fated adventure late last year, keeping fit was not optional.

  *.*

  Shortly after moving in about a year ago, Stacy had a confrontation with a directionally challenged moose and her approximately two hundred-pound calf. She knew it would be a hilarious story the following day, possibly, but it wasn’t amusing at the time it was happening. In fact, she found it frightening to have the friendly, curious calf find her fascinating and want to come closer as she backed up. If only Mama Moose, who was mere feet away, had felt as friendly, but that wasn’t the case. The faster Stacy backed up, the faster the calf came towards her, with Mama Moose nippin’ at her baby’s rear. After getting a too close for comfort look at the giant moose’s eyes, Stacy had no doubt she was trying to nudge her calf to the side so she could get to her.

  Knowing she could never outrun the pair and that trying to reason with mama was pointless, Stacy spun on her heels and darted into the densest area of the trees. Several times, she nearly tripped because one of her laces came untied and she swore that she would purchase longer laces, immediately. For several brief moments, her thoughts were distracted from just how big Mama Moose’s hooves were, with the thought, My what big teeth you have. Stumbling, Dr. Randall had no choice but to use the trees to weave in and out, until she found one with a limb low enough and sturdy enough to climb.

  Dr. Randall winced as she swung her legs up and over the branch. She quickly reached up for the next branch, while she balanced on the lower one, making sure her feet aligned with the length of the branch and didn’t dangle over like an opportunistic treat. When Mama Moose decided to shred her dangling shoelace, Stacy lifted her legs, bent her knees, and brought them up towards her stomach as best she could, and still maintain her tenuous grip. She briefly thought about kicking off her shoe and letting mama have a go at it, but was too afraid the movement would dislodge her from her precarious position. Or that her shoe would smack mama in the face on its way down, and really make her angry.

  Stacy was unable to try to climb higher, without the distinct possibility of impaling herself on one of the newer offshoot branches growing out of the limb she hung from. Incapable of hoisting herself up to the next branch, Stacy gritted her teeth at the unnatural strain and burning feeling in her arm muscles, and hung there for dear life, until Mama Moose followed her wandering calf off to another area in the woods. Stacy then lowered her feet to the branch and rested as well as could be possible against the rough bark of the tree. She remained perfectly quiet until she was sure she could get out of the tree and get home.

  She knew she had many splinters to remove from her hands and calves, and feared she may have to call a coworker to help remove those that may be lodged in her lower back where her shirt pulled up. After showering and checking herself with a mirror, Stacy was able to get away with awkwardly spraying Bactine on her back. The next morning she felt much better, but still solicited one of the women at her lab to take a quick look. During lunch, she ran out and purchased shoelaces long enough that could be triple-knotted.

  Whoever said to watch out for Mama Bear, never encountered Mama Moose. Local authorities have yet to relocate the celebrity pair to their normal habitat north of her residence in Minnesota.

  *.*

  Shaking off her brief flashback, Stacy grabbed the stretchy boater’s bracelet off her bedside ta
ble, which sported a shiny new whistle, and slipped it on her wrist. One of her coworkers found her hasty retreat from Mama Moose hilarious and purchased the whistle for her. For good measure, Stacy added a bright lumens flashlight with a blinding strobe light feature to her pitiful arsenal, in hopes to confuse unwanted visitors, both two and four-legged, who may wish to join her on her run. Although the two-legged kind has never been an issue.

  She quickly threw on her Ideology Capri leggings and top, and then laced up and triple-knotted her Nike Pegasus running shoes. Next, Stacy pulled her natural long platinum blond hair into a high ponytail, which most people thought came from a bottle until they caught sight of her eyes. She had never seen anyone outside of her mother’s side of the family with eyes so light blue that they’re not far off the color spectrum from being white. Stacy’s grandfather often described her grandmother as a woman with ice blue eyes whose heart is as warm as the loveliest spring day.

  She put her hands on her hips and twisted her body side-to-side, and then recklessly jogged down her staircase and out to the street. If she hurried, she could make it back to the safety of the neighborhood street lamps before sunset encompassed the surrounding area of her beautiful little town.

  Before taking off, Dr. Randall pushed the Bose earbuds plug into the iPod and then slipped one of the earbuds into her left ear. Listening to popular country tracks may temporarily distract the sorrow she’s feeling for her newest patient.

  Stacy was oblivious to the way her neighbors would open their windows when they saw her coming. The men wanted to catch a glimpse of the stunning, but unattainable, doctor. They overheard their wives talk about Dr. Randall, according to the realtor, as being a snob who’s upset that her doctor husband is off who knows where with Doctors Without Borders.

  The women liked to listen to her beautiful voice. She didn’t sing loudly, but in the quiet of the evening, even her soft tones carried. Her neighbors often spoke of what she might sound like if she truly sang aloud. Stacy could even make Luke Bryan’s song “I See You,” sound incredible, and given his bravura presence, that’s not an easy feat to accomplish