by Jake Stone
“How dare you?” Petronelous threatens, her hand reaching for one of her blades.
I raise my hands in caution. “Look, I don’t know why they told you that. All I know is that there’s water underneath here. You just have to listen for yourself.”
Petronelous eyes me carefully, her red lips quirking to the side as she weighs my words in her pretty little head. “Even if what you say is true, all water mining is run by the engineers. We’d have to get clearance from the church.”
“To dig a hole?” My God this planet is backwards… “Look, I’m familiar with the process. On my home planet, we helped a village in a similar climate access their aquifer. It’s not that hard.”
Petronelous and her Purifiers exchange a hesitant glance and I can tell that none of them want to sign off on my offer. I need to sweeten the deal.
“Think of it like his,” I say. “If we do nothing, more will die tonight.”
It takes Petronelous less than a second to make her decision. “What do you need?”
Recruits and Purifiers alike watch me from the shade of the sidelines, barely able to sit upright, as I dig into the dirt. They’re exhausted. And so am I. Digging is a grueling process, one that I quickly come to regret half an hour into it.
The aquifer could be six feet under, maybe more. Heck, I could be digging until tomorrow without finding anything. But my thirst and my confidence in my skills keep me going. I know it’s there. Just a little farther, I tell myself.
A shadow falls across the stretch of dirt that I’m working on, and I look up to find Petronelous watching over me. She stands with her weight shifted to the side, her crotch eye level.
Man, I’ve dug a lot.
“Fall in, recruit. Save your water for tonight.”
I glance to the sideline where the other recruits are sitting, and watch as Wezler falls over to the ground. He lies there with his face in the dirt, his movement barely catching the attention of the other Death Dealers dying around him. I’m not sure, but I think he lets out a spasm.
“No,” I say, returning to my dig. “Most of us won’t last the night. And forgot about the morning. You know that.”
“Life is cruel here on Dardekum,” she says, “It cleanses the weak from the strong.”
“So I keep hearing.”
“Is your world any different?”
I open my mouth to speak, ready to let her have it, but then pause as I think about earth. “Mostly,” I answer. “But other parts are like this. But we try to help everyone out the best we can.”
“Your warriors must be weak then,” she says dismissively.
The comment pisses me off, and I stop for a moment to glare at her. “You’ve never met a Marine.”
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” I say, using my anger as energy. Each thrust of my shovel is a hiss of my frustration, and I’m suddenly denting the earth with long hard motions. It’s then, as I stab the earth once more, that I find what I’ve been looking for. The ground cracks like hardened clay. The earth splits apart, and water, clear and cold and as beautiful as a spring, bubbles up from the ground in a glorious rising pool.
“By the heavens,” Petronelous whispers. She quickly bows her head and draws the corfew in the air, her amazement clearly written in the smile edging on her face.
I laugh, tossing the shovel aside and falling to my knees. The feel of the water against my burning skin is wondrous, and I’m soon cupping it into my mouth, unconcerned for the dirt particles swimming in the water.
My God…
Petronelous stares down at me in awe. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. Knowing that she must be thirsty, I cup some water in my hands and raise them up for her to drink, urging her with a nod.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“See for yourself,” I say. “But not too much. We still need to filter it.”
She squats at the edge of the pit, her long red hair swung over her right shoulder as her full red lips touch the water in my hands. I feel the point of her chin against my hand as she drinks, her eyes turning to mine as she tastes the cold, clear water. “But how’s this possible?”
“I told you,” I say. “I’ve done this before.”
It’s not long before Petronelous orders the recruits to fall in. They bring glasses from the food tent, some stumbling, others crawling, quickly taking their fill. We’re like zebras in the desert drinking from a reservoir, silent and focused as we drink as much as we can.
Chapter Thirteen
There are no cheers in the barracks, no wild toasts, no songs of brotherhood. But there is respect.
Wezler and his men, splayed out across their beds, their eyes barely opening as they turn in my direction, gift me with nods of respect.
It’s a first step, I guess, knowing that I’ve got a lot more to go through before they start calling me friend.
I lie back in my bed, hearing the squeak of the box-spring’s metal wires. I’m just about to go to sleep when I see Glondark approaching my bed. She’s dressed in the same dirty yellow shirt and grey pants she’s been wearing since the start, but her skin looks refreshed, cleaned and dried from the water still rising outside. With her brown hair pulled back, I can see her face better. She’s actually really cute. Soft eyes. Good bone structure. Plump lips that would feel good against mine.
I sit up in my bed, wondering what she wants.
“Hey Xander,” she says, one arm crossing her midriff as she begins to chew nervously on one of her fingers.
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering, do you want to hang out a little before we go to sleep?”
“And do what exactly?”
“I don’t know, talk?”
Her words say one thing, but her eyes say another. I watch as her gaze slides over my chest and down my stomach to my crotch. It’s weird. I’m definitely flattered, but at the same time, Glondark’s not my type. She’s more like someone I want to protect than fuck. Rising from my bed, I reach for my shirt.
“That sounds great,” I say, “but I really need to get some air.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I say, doing my best to maneuver around her as she closes in on my space. She puts her hands on my chest, and I’m overcome by the feel of her warmth, as well as the firmness of her large breasts pressing against my stomach. It’s enough to give me a woody. But I’ve got to go. Before I do something I’ll regret. “I’ll catch you later, though, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Sure.”
I walk out of the barracks into the fresh night air. The sky is dark, and there are no clouds. Why should there be? With no water, I’d be surprised if it ever rains on this planet. Still, there’s something beautiful about the desert at night, the dry air, the soft breeze. I stare out at the horizon to my left and make out the jagged edges of the mountain peaks. If only Rachel was here to see them—with me.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I turn to find Petronelous standing behind me. She’s wearing a white cloak with a hood that falls just short of her sparkling green eyes. The soft material frames her slim face and fantastic figure nicely, making her appear almost angelic in the dim light flickering from the nearby torches.
“It is.”
Strange—that’s the only way I can put it. To be speaking to my commanding officer in such a casual setting. And for a moment, I debate on whether I should dismiss myself from her presence. But I don’t. I press my luck, wanting, hoping to remain in her angelic presence.
“It kind of reminds me of home,” I say.
“Your planet?”
I nod.
“Zorel told me it’s called earth.”
Zorel? My body stiffens at the implication. They were talking? About me? What else did she say? “Oh, really? She told you that?”
“Among other things,” she says with a grin.
I look away, embarrassed.
“Come.” The word is an order, and I o
bey.
We walk through the camp in silence, traversing through the manufactured alleyways and makeshift tents, that reminds me of a refugee camp in Haiti. Where’s she taking me?
The camp is much bigger than I’d originally thought. The only part of it I’ve seen is from the practice field where we train and from the barracks where I sleep. But it’s in shambles.
Tents are held up with tourniquets of cloth. Canopies are stitched together with a mismatch of blankets. All around me I see a civilization barely held together through desperation, ingenuity, and will. But still, it’s not enough.
“Everyday our society gets worse,” Petronelous says as she leads me into an open space of dirt surrounded by a gated fence. “Resources grow thin. People turn to crime. Soon, this planet will be nothing but a drop-off for mercenaries and slavers.”
“But what about the Republic?” I ask. “Can’t the Battle Saints do something?”
“The Republic is stretched too thin. The endeavor to cleanse the outer rim of its demons draws all of its resources. And with the travel restrictions, trade has withered. But even so, we should be happy that we have what we have.”
“What about the violence and poverty?” I ask. “Isn’t that just as important?”
“It is,” she admits. “But it’s nothing compared to the likes of a demon. They say some can reach twenty-feet tall, if not more. That their skin is steaming hot and that their breath can kill a person.”
“Have you ever seen one before?”
“No,” she says. “The Republic outlaws all pictures or holo-pics of the accursed beings. The church believes that its mere appearance can infect the mind and putrefy the soul. No one here on Dardekum, including the government officials and clergy, has ever seen one. Only…”
I look as I notice the sudden hesitation on her lips. “Who?” I ask.
“Atia,” she finally says. “Her planet was invaded by a demon horde when she was just a little girl. The monsters were destroyers. They slaughtered the resistance, enslaved the weak, then feasted on the injured. It was a scourge beyond description. And yet, amidst this wild bloodshed and evil, a little girl of six-years-old was able to survive it.”
“Sounds like a miracle.”
The Purifier bows her head at the mention of the word and traces the corfew.
“Why didn’t she become a Battle Saint?” I ask.
She arches a brow at me, her lustrous green eyes gleaming under the light of the two moons, studying me, searching my very essence it feels. “It is a dream for every child who wishes to become a warrior to enter the ranks of the Battle Saints. I was no different. They are the best of us, the strongest, warriors whose power is only rivaled by the supernatural beings they fight in space. It is an honor awarded only to the best.”
“And Atia’s not the best?”
“On the contrary, Atia’s fighting ability far exceeds anyone on this planet, myself included. Her very presence will send an army of criminals to disband at the very sight of her.”
“Then why isn’t she a Battle Saint?”
“By choice.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Back when Atia was accepted into their training program, she quickly proved herself. Her ability was undeniable. But Battle Saints are nothing if not disciplined creatures. Their survival, as strong as they are, relies greatly on their ability to remain steadfast in their orders. One deviation from duty could spell the death of an entire legion. Soldiers must do what they’re told. If not, they’re removed.”
“And how did Atia deviate from her orders?”
“During one of their training exercises, they fell onto a planet that had been scourged by demons. Most were dead. Only a few had survived. But the purpose of a Battle Saint is war, not humanitarianism. They were quickly called to another location, to another planet where fighting was about to go underway.”
“But Atia refused?”
“There was a child, a young girl whose parents had been enslaved. Somehow she had survived. But without any way to escape the planet, she was doomed”
“And Atia wouldn’t leave without her?”
“She followed her heart that day,” Petronelous replies. “And her dream was killed for it.”
For a few seconds, neither of us speak. The thought of Atia giving up so much for someone else makes me feel sorry for her. And to think, I thought she was just some cold-hearted bitch, who only cared about duty. I guess I was wrong.
“Soon after, she was assigned to the Purifiers, where she quickly earned the rank of captain. Now, she’s relegated to overlooking this lifeless planet whose citizens are slowly dying, helpless to do anything about it, while those she wished to join earn honor and glory in the stars above us.”
Petronelous lowers her head, seeming to find her own frustrations reflected in the story. I reach out to grip her shoulder, but stop before my fingers touch her cloak. She’s an experienced warrior for crying out loud, a deadly soldier who threatened to kill me if I even thought about fucking her. Still, I can’t help but feel bad for her.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask. “I mean, I’m nobody here. I’m just this off-worlder guy, who people think crazy for wanting to find a girl.”
“That’s just it,” Petronelous says. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“You mean, just stupid?”
She snorts. “I know what I told you.”
“That love’s a hollow promise?”
“It is. But still, I don’t think you’re stupid. In fact, I think you’re courageous, even smart. Zorel told me about the hover-cycle you fixed, and if it weren’t for what you did today on the field, half of the recruits would’ve died, not to mention saving my life the other day at the range. You’ve done good, Xander.”
“I do okay,” I say, unable to restrain the pride beaming through me. “When given a chance that is.”
“And perhaps you’ll get one, to find this…Rachel?”
The mention of her name brings down my walls, and I’m once again filled anxiety, fear, and doubt. My chest tightens, and my fists clench, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the open air.
“Relax,” she says. “You need to stay strong.”
“You don’t know what this feels like. It’s paralyzing…soul-crushing. I feel like—”
“Like you’re going mad, and there’s nothing you can do about it?”
I stare at her. “You lost someone to the slavers, didn’t you?”
She bows her head and turns away. “You think women are the only ones they take?” Her voice is stiff with resentment. “They took my beloved, Harson, when we were only eighteen-years-old, dragged him from his family’s house after slaughtering his mother.
“My only chance to find him was to join the Purifiers. Just like you’re doing now. It took me years before I found him, but by then, he’d already been killed by his masters, forced to toil in the mines with no food or water for days. With the permission of my officer, I gutted every single one of those slave bastards.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says, her eyes like fiery jewels. “Discovering that he was dead freed me and by killing the slavers, I found a bit of retribution. Either way, you will find a measure of consolation through your efforts. But you have to work hard to find a way to reach that slave auction in time.”
“You know about it?”
“Like I said, I spoke with Zorel.”
I blush, knowing exactly what she means. “Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”
“Don’t mention it. Like I said, you’ve done good since you’ve been here. The least I can do is give you a bit of relief in return, and perhaps attain some relief for myself as well.”
“What do you mean, ‘for yourself as well?’”
I watch as she turns to me, her hands rising to pull back the hood of her cloak. Her mane of red hair falls out in a glorious cascade, helping to frame her statuesque face and gleaming green eyes.
Fuck she’s hot.
As she pulls her cloak apart, I see that she’s not wearing any armor. Her body is still encased in her white bodysuit, allowing me to see her smoking-hot hourglass figure. She watches me as she draws nearer, bolstered by the way my eyes leer lustfully on her big tits.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Helping to relieve your pain.”
“But I thought you said you’d—”
“That was when you were so rudely looking at my crotch out in the open,” she says. “Now that we’re alone…”
“I don’t know,” I say, suddenly worried by our circumstances. “I mean, the barracks aren’t too far away from here. And I don’t know who else might be listening.”
“The barracks are on the opposite side of us,” she assures me calmly. “No one should be able to hear us. That is unless you moan like a woman.” A grin stretches across her face. “And the Purifiers are back in the city. We’re completely alone here.”
I take a deep breath. Her hands are already on my chest. They slide across to my shoulders, and I feel them tightening as they run down my arms to my hands. My heart races as she directs them to her thin waist and I feel my cock begin to harden.
Holding my gaze, she reaches for the zipper behind her back, and I hear the zip of metal slowly opening. There’s something so sexy about that sound, so naughty. It’s as if I’ve been trained like one of Pavlov’s dogs to get turned on by it.
Unable to control myself, I rush to help her. I yank the zipper down and open the ends of her suit, tugging it down mercilessly to her waist to get a full view of her upper body. Petronelous gasps as her massive tits bounce into view.
They’re glorious, hot and full. My hand rises to squeeze one, her flesh tight and steaming against my palm. I dig my mouth over one of her nipples, sucking on her sweet skin, that’s laced with just enough sweat to drive me crazy. It’s delicious. Her head falls back in ecstasy with every movement, and I know she’s loving it as much as I am.
Our lust begins to overtake us. She reaches into my pants and grabs my cock—it’s as hard as a metal pipe by now—and begins to jerk me off. Her grip is firm at the base, and I feel myself at the edge of coming. I don’t care. This feels amazing!
