“You must find someone called Colette Wilson and convince her to use her expertise to match suitable human females with warriors.”
“Is this Colette an Oracle?” Cade asked.
“Not exactly. She is, however, an expert when it comes to pairing couples. Her aid is crucial if we’re to continue rebuilding our population.”
Relief eased the stress from Jaspar’s face. “Sounds easy enough.”
“It won’t be,” the Oracle stated plainly. “Convincing her is only part of the issue. This will necessitate revealing our existence to the entire planet. However, it must be done in such a way as to not frighten the Earthlings.”
“Any suggestions on how to do that?” Jaspar asked.
“Carefully,” the Oracle’s dry reply. “They are a volatile species. Easily goaded into war. You must find a way to show them we mean no ill will, which won’t be easy.”
“Understood,” Jaspar said with a nod, whereas Cade wanted to know, “How long will we be gone?”
“The length of your journey will depend on your success in convincing the human. You will depart just after the moon rises.”
“That quickly?” Jaspar’s brow rose in surprise.
“This task is of vital importance, and I am counting on you to ensure its success. Earth females have proven to be the most compatible when it comes to mating, and if our kind is to survive, then we need them. You cannot fail.”
“Fear not. We shall do our utmost to succeed,” Jaspar promised.
Cade gave a nod of his head.
The whispering ancestors began to shout, and the Oracle knew she had to satisfy them. “As a reward for your service, should you come across a female that suits you as a mate, then you have my blessing to bond.”
Jaspar shook his head. “While you do me honor, it would be a waste of a nubile bride.”
“And I, quite honestly, would prefer to go on missions and not be bound to family and hearth,” Cade added.
“That is your choice, of course, but if you change your mind…” The Oracle left the sentence unfinished and closed her eyes as the spirits grumbled.
Only once the warriors left did she reply to the voices. “I have done all I can. Now it is up to them to succeed, and, if they do, realize the gift they’ve been given.”
A gift they’d have to share.
1
Jaspar didn’t need long to pack. Truth be told, he didn’t own much, the place he called home more of a temporary shelter to rest in between missions. He preferred being off-planet. Unlike others, he didn’t have any living relatives, being the only son of a male who’d not been interested in raising a child once his mate passed on from the viral attack launched on the females of Xaanda. When his father died, Jaspar honestly didn’t feel much, as it was hard to care about a stranger. He did, however, follow in his paternal progenitor’s footsteps, training from a young age in the combat arts and enlisting for military training as soon as he became eligible.
Decades later, Jaspar continued to go on missions, the longer, the better. The military needed someone to man an outpost at the far reaches of their galaxy? He volunteered and even extended his deployment, the tiny planet he’d been assigned providing excellent hunting until the asteroid that hit—his fault. He’d been playing with the planet’s defense system and shattered a large comet passing by, which led to the stray chunk that smashed into the surface, starting a chain reaction.
He'd been reassigned to a diplomatic mission that required him staying on a busy and chaotic space station, which, after the blessed quiet of his last posting, left him stressed and disgruntled. So many entities crammed in the intergalactic hub. He ended up being redeployed after frisking a dignitary in an inappropriate spot. In his defense, he’d not realized their sex organs were in their armpits.
A stint on the Xaanda moon base as a teacher for their training facility bored him to the point he begged to be sent anywhere. Guess the ancestors were listening, seeing as how the Oracle summoned Jaspar and assigned him a most important task. A task and not a mate, thank the moons.
The mission would be intricate, as it involved diplomacy rather than subjugation, making him an odd choice, as peaceful deals were not exactly his strong suit. Usually, he preferred to shoot the things that didn’t cooperate. However, despite the fact he wouldn’t get to show off his combat skills, the thrill of visiting the alien world he’d heard so much about did excite. He looked forward to sifting truth from fiction, like the fact humans chose their own paths rather than having an Oracle and their ancestral spirits guiding them. There would be new cuisine to try, and not the replicator-made kind. Earthlings still actually cooked using ingredients. And he found this the most difficult to believe: apparently the citizens of Earth bathed with water! Exactly how wealthy was this planet to waste such a valuable resource?
“You are cleared to board,” stated the attendant at the space port, startling Jaspar, who’d been sitting and waiting patiently.
“Which vessel?” he asked, standing and slinging his pack over a shoulder.
The attendant pointed to a sleek craft, and Jaspar’s jaw almost dropped. One of the new Cosmonians, named Bekke, featuring the latest in innovation, including the Beta 690, the upgraded computer model of the Alpha 350.
Jaspar practically drooled as he boarded the new spacecraft. He couldn’t help but trail his fingers along the smooth panels on his way to the bridge. Upon entering the spacious room, he gaped at the simplified control panels, which reacted to touch instead of the many toggles and dials of the older crafts he’d learn to pilot on.
“Welcome, Commander Jaspar’uilla Var Jannu,” a female voice said. “I am Beta 690, and I am pleased to assist you.”
