by V. K. Ludwig
“Not here,” Torin mumbled, even though Com Central was as empty as the rest of our camp.
Those assigned to management sat behind glass in their offices, all doors shut. The workstations in the main hall lay abandoned, not a single star chart flickering to track Jal’zar troop movements outside the atmosphere. A static hum accompanied us along the hallway toward the healer wing. When we turned toward forensic pathology, my stomach bottomed out.
The biting stench of bleach singed my nostrils the moment we stepped into the room, and the drop in temperature sent a shudder down my spine. One wall glistened where metal compartments kept those poor bastards who hadn’t survived Solgad, reflecting the unnaturally bright light which radiated from the ceiling.
“Only one healer is currently allowed to step in here,” Torin said as he slowly approached the examination table in the center of the room. “As much as I tried to keep it under the covers, word of this incident is spreading like fire sprinkled with fuel.”
A forcefield crackled in a dome-shape around a body, making it impossible to guess what lay underneath. Or at least, that was what I told myself as I stepped closer.
With a voice command and a swipe over the access screen, Torin let the forcefield retreat. “Name, unknown. Around nineteen sun cycles old.”
My eyes locked on a set of purple irises, which encircled fully-blown pupils in an abandoned stare. A greasy sheen had settled onto light gray skin, which draped over the hollowed cheeks of the Jal’zar female. Time suspended itself along with my next heartbeat, dragging into torturous eternity as I wondered if I was looking at Naney.
But I didn’t.
This female had dark brown hair, which ran in two braids between her horns. At least, what was left of them in their tousled state, roots ripped out in patches, the scalp underneath inflamed. One of her fawn horns had broken off at the tip; her tail lay beside her on the metal table, crooked and bruised where she must have sustained fractures.
The longer I stared, the more saliva collected underneath my tongue. At the next swallow, it came back up, along with a wave of bile that sent me fumbling for the sink mounted to the wall across.
Cold and sterile, the metal burned against my palms as I gripped it tightly and sent the contents of my stomach down the drain. Sweat broke across the back of my neck with the way I fought those trembles ransacking my muscles.
I had seen bodies chopped into pieces when we assisted the Kokkonians in defending their home planet. Had carried Uktesh children from burning waters, their tentacles scorched and blistered. None of it had hit me like the fractal worry of Naney’s death. It wasn’t her. That wouldn’t have made sense but…
… it could have been.
“What happened to her?” I grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the wall, wiped my mouth, tossed it into the biohazard trash, and turned back to Torin. “Please tell me she’s some sort of civilian casualty.”
She had to be.
Her frame was too slender to have any strength to fight. All those bruises — black patches strewn across her upper arms and thighs — only supported the idea. She was young, innocent. Dead.
Torin pressed his lips together, grimacing before he finally spoke. “Last night, drones informed us of a mass movement among the Jal’zar. All those smaller groups we’d mapped…? Gone. Everyone moved camp at once.”
As had been my plan. “What does that have to do with her?”
“She must have strayed from her group as they moved and…” he trailed off only to return brittle and weak. “I sent several smaller groups of warriors into the plains to try to track their movement, but we lost most when they disappeared into the storms out west. One of them came across her corpse and brought her here since her injuries seemed… suspicious.” His eyes caught mine. “She was raped.”
That word echoed from the metal drawers straight into my core, shrinking my ribcage until my organs hurt. “By a Jal’zar male?”
“Vetusian.”
Impossible.
My mind reeled at the thought alone. “This female might have been young, but most Vetusian warriors wouldn’t stand a chance against her in a confrontation. Only one of theirs would be a match.”
And didn’t that make sense? Torin didn’t know of the mating heat, the rut, but I did. The way the warrior we’d encountered attacked Naney, so relentless in his pursuit to claim her that he didn’t even bother killing me first?
It made so much sense.
Until Torin said, “I never said one Vetusian. The healer found seed belonging to three different individuals, Zavis. Three of our warriors raped this female, likely as they choked her to death.”
“No.” My head shook all on its own as pictures of Naney pushed into my mind. Beautiful Naney, so calm and gentle and sweet when she was with her people. “Every single Vetusian with boots on this planet knows the official report… incompatible for mating.”
The grit on Torin’s soles crunched on the palathium floor as he took slow, deliberate steps toward me. “Until someone gave them reason to question said report.”
Guilt thickened my blood.
I didn’t need to ask who that someone was. I knew it. He did as well, and the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest and pinned me against the sink with his green stare made that quite clear.
That dead female?
I’d put her on that table.
“Naney.” Speaking her name was the only warning Torin gave me before he confronted me with the hard truth. “Purple eyes. White hair. The Jal’zar female you fought in the yoni, questioned by the tree, and spent the night with. Naked.” There was a pause before he added, “Do you deny that she’s the shaman you said you would bring in for questioning?”
There was no point in denying anything anymore. “One and the same female.”
“A female who was reportedly almost as naked as you when those two warriors came upon you in the yoni. Want to guess where those two warriors are now?”
The consequences of my actions wore down on me like lead. “In a cell.”
“In a cell,” Torin repeated sharply, “for raping a Jal’zar female and encouraging at least one other.”
“Torin—”
“You lied to me. Repeatedly. Did you fornicate with that female Naney?” He lent that word an undertone of utter disgust.
“Yeah, I fucked her.”
Twice. But last night…?
That hadn’t been fucking.
I dare say we’d made love, but Torin would understand that one even less.
When he swallowed an audible gag, I said, “Jal’zar and Vetusians might not be able to procreate, but I find pleasure in her body like none before. Her sex is not much different from how our females used to be.”
“Neither is the sex of a female yuleshi,” he snarled. “It would have caused a lot less chaos if you would have put your cock in that animal instead of this savage—”
My fist met his jaw. “Call her savage again, and I’ll shove you into one of those cold lockers myself. Look at the bruises on this young female, then tell me again who the savages are!”
Torin’s jaw crackled when he shifted it and unclenched his fists. “You put this entire campaign at risk, and for what? For a couple of argos with a female who can give you no child, no family, no future?”
“I hadn’t planned this.” Had not only ignored the risks but allowed myself to indulge in an illusion. “That scholar report—”
“Helped us make rape a non-issue during this occupation!”
I flinched. “Are you saying you knew we are compatible to mate?”
“Had you bothered to look into the classified files, you would have known that too, Zavis. Yes, you can fuck a Jal’zar female.” His chest heaved, and he dug a finger into his collar to loosen it some. “But no, you simply cast your vote against this mission without offering alternatives. You washed your hands of the guilt, leaving the hard decision to me. Always me.”
“This occupation of Solgad isn’t
right.”
“No, it’s not. But you know what else isn’t right?” He raked a hand through his hair and paced beside the corpse. “That our females have gone extinct, leaving us males behind in a state of idle uselessness. That droids meet our baser urges, but still the numbers of drug abuse among our kind are skyrocketing. That Earth eagerly took the technology we provided but never gave us the promised females in return. In politics, nothing is ever right, but sometimes the wrong thing is the only available option.”
His anger was justified, and guilt wrapped around my neck like a snare. As much as I’d done my duty as a warrior, I’d neglected my responsibilities as a leader, leaving the ugliness of it to Torin.
All this time, I’d thought he handled them better. But now? He hadn’t wanted this occupation, either. Back then, we had to decide between two options — invade Solgad in a fake war or invade Earth to capture those females we so desperately needed to avoid extinction.
“The Vetusian Empire is crumbling, and those planets attached to it will fall prey to others once our forces are depleted.” Torin stopped pacing, his eyes on the dead female. “For sun cycles, we promised solutions but delivered none. Our males are one setback away from murdering each other. If we don’t bring this occupation to a winning end and demand payment from Earth, we’re done.”
A goal easily achieved by one of two things — rounding up the females or getting the captured warrior to spill the locations of the young males. Either one would bring victory to the Empire and defeat to the Jal’zar.
And Naney’s eternal hate.
“We can still get this under control,” I said. “An execution—”
“Would require us to state the reason for such a harsh punishment publicly, only giving this more attention. If Earth learns of this... Ten-thousand troops on the ground, Zavis. None of them have ever touched a real female. Once word spreads that we are compatible to mate, this will become a common occurrence.” He clasped the metal table as he sunk his head. “There’s another female.”
“Raped?”
“It’s not confirmed yet, but likely,” he said. “But there’s more.”
I scoffed and raked a hand through my beard. “By the Three Suns, how much more can there be?”
“Warden Mares.”
“Fucking shit!” I kicked the metal drawer beneath the sink. “He knows?”
He nodded. “Solgad’s occupation strained our finances. If Warden Mares lends this his attention, he might see an opportunity to replenish the Empire’s treasury… and likely his own pockets.”
By prostituting the females.
That realization roused a gag at the back of my throat. “You wouldn’t vote for it, would you?”
“Of course not, and not only because the thought alone disgusts me.”
I didn’t bother telling him that there was nothing repulsive about Naney, her kind, or the way we’d coupled. That female was all soft skin, fragrant hair, and tender kisses once you made it past the fangs.
“He wouldn’t gain majority if it came to a vote,” I said. “Strained finances or not, I would never cast mine in favor. Matter settled.”
“Mares is a parasite out for his own gain,” he said, and with that, I agreed. “We need to tread carefully, Zavis. This is bad enough as it is, and time-sensitive. One wrong move, and it’ll get even worse. The longer this occupation lasts, the more females we’ll find, and I just don’t know how to end it.”
“I might have an idea,” I said, my voice shaky.
As much as I wanted to wash my hands of this decision, I couldn’t do it anymore. My father had told me I was unfit to lead, so I hadn’t. And where did my inertia lead us?
Had I read that damn report, I could have avoided Naney. Or simply left it at that one encounter, instead of seeking her out and abusing her fragile state. Worse, I’d allowed trust to grow between us, and now I had no other option but to betray it.
“You don’t want to betray her,” Torin said as if he’d read my thoughts.
“She’ll be furious.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and leaned against the sink. “This is more than just putting my cock in a hole, Torin. I have feelings for—”
He silenced me with a slow lift of his finger, which hovered between us for a moment before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I won’t even pretend to understand how this can happen but, for the sake of the argument, let me ask you this.” He dropped his hand and stared me dead in the eyes. “How do you prefer her? Furious or raped to death?”
My muscles stiffened.
The answer was clear.
I wanted Naney alive and safe, which meant we needed to get the fuck off this planet, and quickly.
I pushed my fist into my uniform pockets, letting my fingertips trace the outline of the vasani poison. “What about the warrior?”
Torin sighed. “There are few body parts left we can relieve him of, and still, he refuses to give up the locations.”
But he might just change his mind once I tell him that I know of the heat and our option to capture their females. “I need to speak to him. Alone.”
“And why would I allow that?” Torin cut me a glare. “You’re a traitor, Zavis. The only reason I won’t publicly accuse you of treason is because you are my crop mate, my brother. You are the only one who doesn’t make me feel…” Defective. Everyone called us that. The older Torin got, the more he seemed to believe it. “If you’re behind this new development of groups moving to trees toward the west, do not ever tell me. Let me hold on to this lie that I am not completely alone with this burden I was created to shoulder.”
“Will you let me leave camp?”
“Absolutely not,” he snarled. “You have my protection, not my trust.”
So I wouldn’t even be able to explain myself to Naney before I betrayed her. Perhaps it was for the best since I might otherwise compromise her new location.
“You’re not alone.” Because it was time I acted. For once, the Vetusian and the male within me agreed. “Let me speak to the warrior. In a few argos, I’ll have a solution.”
Thirteen
Naney
Grit pricked my ankles as I walked across the gathering area beneath our new mother tree, where the wind rippled the ash with each unpredictable gust.
Mother glanced up at the leaves that rustled between the branches and the swaying nabus. “Change is coming.”
I stacked the stones I’d gathered around the fire pit, forming a wind barrier to protect the young flames, but said nothing. Mother had been blessed with many gifts from Mekara, visions being one of the strongest. Whatever she’d seen in Zavis’ soul, she hadn’t made another mention of it.
Neither would I.
Zavis and I had coupled twice during our night together in the plains. Once to ease the pain of my heat, the act so loving and affectionate it had brought tears to my eyes.
And once because I wanted to.
Wanted to writhe beneath his strong body, gasp at his overpowering thrusts, and whimper each time he tamed me with his firm grip. Most of all, I’d wanted to rest on his chest after, with his arms sheltering me from our ugly predicament.
There had been the fraction of a moment — nothing but a hitched breath as I drifted into sleep — where I’d thought that I loved him. That I wanted him. That I didn’t give a shit about what he was — against odds, morals, and sins — as long he was mine.
What a mess we’d made of this.
Cotton soft between the clasp of my fingers, I tugged the scarf around my neck higher, pretending to protect myself from the storm where I only tried to hide his bite mark. We’d maimed each other on the outside, yes, but those scars reached far beneath what could be seen on the surface.
“I don’t like this area,” I said and leaned over, gently blowing into the flames, feeding it more of the dried dung I’d found. “Trapped between two plateaus, there’s only one way to go if Vetusians come this far out: north toward the freeraiders. They’ll cut our throats just t
o get their hands on our nabus.”
“North, we will go,” Mother said. “But so will the freeraiders.”
I lifted a brow at her. “I don’t understand. The higher north we go, the more unruly the plains become, with sparse game and several days’ ride between yonis.”
She grabbed the leather pouch tied to her belt, pulled a handful of dried moss from it, and tossed it into the flames to smudge the air. “We go where Mekara sends us, Naney.”
I sighed but didn’t dare question her further. If growing up as the shimid’s daughter had taught me anything, it was that Mother become more vague with each question. Her gifts took a toll on her, as if she were indeed a vessel for Mekara, and the goddess chipped away at her one vision at a time.
Yral came over and lowered a basket of dried ushti strips onto the ground, which she rubbed with tendetu fat before she draped them over the hot stone by the embers. “A scout came by earlier. Said young females have gone missing as they moved trees.”
I grabbed the leather pouch with spices and sprinkled them over the meat. “Who?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t ask for names. He also said Vetusians sent small units toward the west.”
An involuntary twitch tugged on my fingers, and I accidentally dumped the spices. Why would they come west and brave storms they’re not equipped for? Did Zavis send them—
No. That was nonsense.
Zavis was helping us.
“Their drones might have picked up on the movement,” I said. “It’s suspicious when so many smaller groups move all at once and head west. They’ve been trying to keep track of us for many moons, so it was to be expected that they would ride out to look at this recent—”
“Naney!” Tjer’ka shouted from her yuleshi as she slipped off and sprinted toward us, her cheeks and temples pinkish from exhaustion. “The warrior… they took him…” She sucked in a sharp breath and braced her palms against her knees, staggering sideways a bit before she caught her balance. “A large unit of Vetusians took the captured warrior out into the plains.”
