Beast: Book Nine in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series

by Alana Khan

  Chapter Six

  Beast

  I can’t say I’ve never been to a party before. I’ve been to plenty. But never as a guest. I’ve been escorted into my master’s house and paraded before his guests to fight mock battles with my comrades. I’ve watched males and females paid to dance. I’ve seen the rich peoples’ revelry. I’ve never been offered food or drink. In all those times, I never envied the partygoers or wanted to change places with them.

  Willa informed me that tonight’s party is for me. If there was a way out of this, I’d avoid it, but since she tells me I’m ‘the guest of honor’ I think my absence will be noticed.

  I’ve been patched up by Dr. Drayke. Never have I been so skillfully treated, nor have the medic’s hands been so gentle. A few stitches to my arm and abdomen, a handful of pills to take the edge off the pain and avoid any infections, and he told me I was good to go.

  Shadow loaned me a few loincloths, so I put one on after I showered and took a nap. Now I stand with my hand an ince away from the palm plate. I gird myself with the same fortitude I use before I step into an arena. In some ways, this party will be harder than the matches I fought today. I’m not certain how to relate to anyone other than as a master or a fellow slave.

  But little Aerie will be there. That will be a treat. I think she’s forgiven me for my blunder the other night in her room. I shouldn't even be thinking of Emmannee. She deceived me, betrayed me. Thoughts of her should never again float through my mind. Those days are behind me, and despite her treachery, I’m standing here a free male.

  Well, I’m almost a free male. I will be free as soon as the pouch of gold coins is in Plenum of Trent’s greedy hands.

  Moments later, Shadow calls to me from across the dining room. “I saved you a plate. Figured you’d be late.” He lifts a dish that’s piled high with more food than I usually eat in a day. I’m famished, though. It’s after dinnertime and I haven’t eaten since last night at Tsing’s. I never eat before a bout.

  As I slide in across the table from Shadow, he re-introduces me to his mate, Petra.

  She, like all the females on board, is human. She’s as tiny as Aerie. Her hair is long and pulled into two purple bunches that cascade off the top of her head. They originate from the same place on her scalp as where Ar’Tok’s horns emerge.

  I glance around, not wanting to make it obvious I’m looking for Aerie. I know I shouldn’t be interested. If I learned one thing in the last few lunars, it’s that women aren’t to be trusted. I vowed to never get close. But there’s something about the cocky little human that I like.

  It’s not just her appearance, or the glimpses I’ve seen of how she’ll embrace our bed-play. I admire her. My lips turn up in the smallest smile when I remember how ferociously the little female fought against the Urluts when they tossed her into my cell.

  And here she is. She doesn’t try to hide her excitement when she spots me and heads directly to my table.

  After saying brief hellos to our tablemates, she spears me with a serious look and asks, “How are you feeling?” She looks me up and down so thoroughly I’m certain she didn’t miss my new stitches or a single bruise.

  “Fine.”

  She digs into her food, swallows, and says, “Shadow, I want to thank you for helping me today.”

  I sit up straighter, my drack detector on high alert. Is something going on between these two? Would she let such a thing slip in front of his mate? Petra’s eyes flick between the two of them as she’s become more interested in the conversation too.

  “It was nothing. I just wanted to explain things, hoping it would calm you.”

  “He described how all your equipment would keep you safe,” she says. “He told me the cut on your abdomen wasn’t serious because it wasn’t bleeding badly. He explained that you poured water on it so I’d see it and not worry.”

  “Thank you,” I tell the male. I need to stop finding enemies around every corner. Perhaps the people on board this ship are just as friendly as they seem.

  “Females and males,” Zar calls loudly enough that the room quiets. “Welcome to the Fool’s Errand party. We are celebrating our new arrivals, and especially happy that Beast is here and not in the morgue on Galgon.”

  He looks pleased with his little joke, which all the gladiators chuckled at. This type of humor is how we survived the bleak reality of our lives. The females, however, don’t even pretend to laugh. Perhaps I can ask Aerie to explain later.

  “Maddie has prepared bake-a-cake for the festivities,” Zar continues. “She told me to inform you that she chose vanilla over chocolate so even WarDog can enjoy it.”

  At this, all the females smile and nod.

  The bake-a-cake is so delicious I stop eating everything else on my plate and ask for seconds.

  Dax calls out, “Hurray for the cook!” and everyone joins in. Maddie always seems to be working in the kitchen. I wonder if she’s a free female or a slave, but I’ve never seen her without a smile on her face.

  “Captain Zar!” I call to him as he passes our table on his way to his mate. “Can I have a word?”

  He ducks his large frame into a chair near me after setting two platess of cake on his table—one for him and one for his female. He always refers to her as his ‘beloved Anya’, which never fails to squeeze my heart a bit. Too bad I’ll never have a relationship like that.

  “I’ve given the Fool’s Errand the 750,000 credits we negotiated. I have enough for the price on my head. I have nothing extra to pay, but would like to be delivered to planet Trent. Is there something I can do around the ship to earn passage there?”

  It’s hard to read Zar’s features because his face is feline and covered in fur, but I believe he’s frowning. Is he going to negotiate more money from me? Will I not be able to buy my freedom without fighting another bout? And so soon after risking my life today on Galgon?

  “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Beast. You are free to stay here as long as you wish. You never have to fight again. We all have to find a way to contribute, but it doesn’t have to involve risking your life in the arena. You can keep your money, not pay your owner, and have a good life among us.”

  Every muscle in my body slackens. I’ve seldom been this surprised.

  “You want nothing from me? You’re not going to . . .” I almost say the word ‘extort’, but I stop myself in time. “Not going to ask for more credits?”

  “When we first took over this ship, I spent many a sleepless night worrying about how I could keep everyone on board alive and fed. Then it became apparent that we were figuring it out. Grace makes thousands of credits each lunar with sales of her music over the Intergalactic Database. Dax is an extraordinary artisan.” He points with his chin toward the polished wooden mural that takes up most of one wall.

  “His last piece sold for 60,000 credits—and that was smaller than the one you see. I thank the Gods for their mercy and protection. We’re doing fine and will continue to do fine whether or not you ever again fight in the arena. Let me repeat, you’re welcome to stay with us as a brother.”

  Hot liquid stings the back of my eyes. I swallow. Hard.

  I’ve never been so accepted before. Even by my fellow gladiators in my ludus. My master and guards were always pitting us against each other. They made food, wine, and females scarce so we had to compete for our share.

  It seems obvious now that there was plenty to go around. They created the system so we were always jealous, angry, and suspicious of each other. Was this a tactic to keep us from bonding together? So we didn’t plot our escape?

  Zar called me ‘brother’. It’s not a word gladiators use lightly. The gravity of his offer doesn’t escape me.

  I nod to him and press my knuckles to my chest. “I’m honored, Captain Zar. To be welcomed onto your ship, accepted into your midst without question, this is a privilege indeed.” I swallow as I consider his offer. “I’ve never been free. Until only a few days ago, I barely hoped to dream such
a thing.

  “I need to keep my options open. Unless I pay Plenum of Trent off, I’ll never be able to fight under my own name. Never be able to earn the type of purse I won today. I don’t think . . .” Pausing, I make certain what I’m saying is true. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel truly free until my name is off Plenum’s slave ledger.”

  Zar nods, looking sage and older than his years. “I understand. The slave ship we appropriated is on Aeon II getting new identifiers and a new name. We need to join them there. I’ll talk to Axxios, one of our pilots, and see if Trent is even in the same sector. If so, we’ll take you to Trent and escort you to your former master’s house.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.

  “Thank you. You volunteered to fight for our injured gladiator before you knew the first thing about us. You gave us all a glimpse of your character your first day aboard the Fool.”

  Steele enters the room on Zoey’s arm. I’ve never met him, but he’s the color of metal, and he walks with his hand pressed to his belly. A sign of a severe abdominal wound.

  I join everyone as they stand and clap. This is the first time he’s walked into the dining room since his injury.

  “What a wonderful night!” Zar exclaims, his voice booming. “We have four newcomers to add to our crew, Beast walks upright among us after vanquishing six opponents in the arena today, and our friend Steele shows us he’s on the mend after bravely fighting the slavers.”

  Everyone murmurs their approval as Dax shouts, “You forgot to mention this delicious vanilla bake-a-cake.”

  The females all smile at that. I assume the huge male likes his sweets.

  ~.~

  Several hours later, Zar informs me we will be in Trent in two days. Plenum has owned me since my teens, and I’m well acquainted with his character. If I ask to buy myself, he will find a way to cheat me, re-enslave me, and walk away with the million credits in the drawstring bag.

  I’ve asked Aerie to negotiate with him as the buyer.

  “I still don’t like this idea,” she hedges.

  We’re on the bridge with Axxios the pilot and Ar’Tok on comms. Although it’s the middle of the night on the ship, it’s midday on Trent, a good time to negotiate the deal.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” Axxios says. “The coordinates are entered into the nav system. Ar’Tok, you’ll be here all night again, right? Call me if you need me.”

  “Sure,” Ar’Tok responds. He looks calmer than I’ve ever seen him. The Fool’s Errand seems to agree with him.

  “I don’t want to own you for even a minute,” Aerie says. “It will feel creepy.”

  “He’ll never let me buy myself. Should I ask one of the males to do this for me?” I don’t want to pressure her.

  “No. I’ll do it.” She’s serious for a moment, then lifts a playful eyebrow. “What if I don’t tear up your papers? What if I keep you as my slave?” She winks.

  “Perhaps the males on board the ship will give me pointers on how they staged their revolt,” I joke.

  “You don’t need instruction. You’re already pretty revolting,” she quips.

  Ar’Tok swivels in his chair and stares at us. “Are you two sharing bed-play? You’re sparring with each other like a mated couple.”

  Perhaps he didn’t know how close to home he hit—not until we both become speechless and attempt to look innocent. Our behavior must confirm his suspicions, because he turns back to his comms board as if it's the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

  Several moments later, Aerie is on visual comms with Plenum himself. He’s a pompous lavender humanoid with a beak-like nose and hooded lids.

  I’m far enough off to the side the camera won’t pick up my presence, but I can see him clearly. My body reacts as if he’s standing next to me. The taste of bile invades my mouth, every muscle in my body tightens, and my fists ball at my sides.

  “You wish to buy the Beast of Tramachor?” He’s incredulous.

  “My father taught me the intricacies of gladiator fighting while I sat on his knee. I won’t bore you, but I can spout statistics of every game he’s ever fought. I’ve wanted him since I saw him vanquish the Galgonian on Aeon II.

  “It took me a while to beg, borrow and steal enough credits, but I’m ready to make an offer.”

  “I don’t want offers. I want one million credits,” he sneers.

  “I’m prepared to offer 950 thousand—”

  The dracker terminated the comm.

  “Aerie, why—”

  “I don’t know what came over me. It’s against my nature to offer full price. Ar’Tok, can you comm him back?”

  “Already on it.”

  It takes a full houra for Plenum to deign to answer Aerie’s comm.

  “Are you prepared to offer full price?” His mottled lavender face is pinched and disapproving. He looks disinterested, as if he’s not discussing the life of a sentient being.

  “My apologies. I—”

  “Yes or no,” he interrupts. “Full price?”

  “Full price. I’d like to bring it to you on Trent, deliver it personally, and collect my new livestock immediately. I can be there in two days.”

  This would worry a normal male. He must know by now that the slave ship carrying the ‘livestock’ has been out of communication for the better part of a week. He’s not going to be able to deliver. However, he looks cool and calm.

  “I’m happy to take your credits via the Database. No need to come here. My fighter is on a ship and may not return in time.” He’s acting as if nothing is wrong. I doubt he wants to lose a million credit sale.

  “I’m on my way, Sir. If I need to wait a day or two to collect my new fighting flesh, that’s fine with me. See you in two days.”

  Always needing the upper hand, Plenum says, “I have another buyer. Be here in two days or I’ll sell the Pinnacle to your opposition. Out.” He terminates the comm.

  “Dracker,” I say when the comm screen goes dark.

  “Fucker is right,” she replies. “The thought that he owns you makes my flesh crawl.”

  She doesn’t know the half of it. She never will.

  Ar’Tok’s fingers are moving faster over his comm screen. He’s sitting up straighter. He doesn’t have to speak for me to know something is wrong.

  “Axxios, Braxxus, Zar to the bridge. Axxios, Braxxus, Zar to the bridge immediately.”

  He’s called both pilots and the captain. Although neither Aerie nor I should be here, I want to stay to hear what’s wrong.

  The three males rush through the bridge door within a minima, none of them wearing clothes.

  “Report,” Zar says as he slides into his chair.

  The twin pilots, one gold, one silver, sit. Gold in the captain’s chair, silver in the first mate’s. They have bodies built to be gladiators, but I was told they were highborn until they were captured by their enemies. Now they share duties piloting the ship.

  “It’s Callista from the slave ship. She says they’ve intercepted comms from the MarZan cartel. They’ve been followed.”

  He turns to Aerie and I to explain. “Most of us were owned by the cartel before our revolution. They’ve never stopped looking for us—they want us dead.

  “The mechanics on Aeon II have removed all tracers, but even though the modifications aren’t complete, the ship must leave the planet immediately.”

  “Tell them to leave now. We’ll change our plans and meet them on Numa. Numa will work, right?” he asks the pilots.

  “It’s a perfect choice. We have contacts there who can finish the modifications,” Axxios says, “but we were going to drop Beast off on Trent. We can’t meet our comrades in time if we detour to Trent.”

  “Contact Plenum and postpone for a few days,” Zar suggests.

  “He just said he’d sell to another buyer if we’re not there in two days,” I inform him. “I don’t know if he was bluffing or not, but I’d hate to be sold to someone else. I want to be a free male so bad I
can taste it.”

  “Axxios, set course for Numa. We’ve got to meet the other ship before the cartel finds them. There are too many lives at stake for us to postpone and arrive too late. The Fool’s Errand is far better equipped to fight the cartel’s best ships.Our weapons are superior. Does anyone have an idea about how to get Beast to Trent in the scant amount of time he has left?”

  “The pod,” silver Braxxus says calmly. “When we bought the Fool, I figured we’d never need it. It’s tiny and would be of little help if we were in danger. One person would escape and everyone else would perish. But it would be perfect for this.”

  “I’m a gladiator,” I protest. “They barely taught me to read and write. I certainly can’t captain a space vessel.”