by Fiona Jayde
“How did you two manage to meet?” He’s still giving us a curious look. I get the idea that he’s incredibly lonely and feel a bit sorry for him.
“Berzee, we really must go help her friend.”
The Chassak nods his head in agreement and gives Kyllell a pained smile. “A story for another day, then.” Berzee takes the bags but refuses the large gem from the adult chuktah. “You’ll need that to continue taking care of your mate. Now then, there are three separate fields within the dark market areas where three separate ships are currently parked waiting for ownership. I’ve already purchased the one you requested. It is sitting there amongst them, and so long as you grease the hands of the guard at the gate and give him this chip which proves you are the owner, you will be cleared for retrieval and takeoff.”
Kyllell takes the tiny chip in his hand and nods. The metal of the thing glints in the low lamplight.
“It’s that simple, huh?” I ask, conveying a healthy dose of skepticism.
“It would be if you two weren’t planning on breaking into a Chassak holding facility to save your friend. That part will not be so easy.”
Valid point.
“You must go under cover of darkness, especially if you plan on sneaking aboard two human females, and please do not get caught while freeing this friend of yours. There is only so much I can do for you. My expertise does not lend a hand to prison breaks.”
Kyllell gives him a toothy grin and extends his arm. Berzee clasps it in his so their hands grip each other’s forearms.
“Safe travels, Elysium.”
“Thank you, Berzee. Make sure you avoid any other unnecessary risks.”
Berzee barks out a laugh before he gives us both a sly wink. “And where would the fun in that be?”
What is this?” Ada asks quietly.
I scan the large stand ahead of us where aliens of varying races gather together, staring at something scrawny and terrified on the stage.
“A market.”
“I can see that, but what exactly are they selling—oh, my word!” She sees the answer before I can say anything.
Animals and people of many species are assembled on a stage in the courtyard. An auctioneer stands before them, listing prices as he points to each one.
“Slaves,” Ada says, her voice tight.
“Yes.” Seeing the trade through Ada’s eyes makes it more difficult to watch. Female and male, young and old, these creatures stand huddled before a crowd of buyers. They are thin, covered in bruises, and poorly dressed considering the brisk weather. They squint at the sun, probably because they have been kept in cells for months at a time. I bite my lip to control my face.
“Come,” I say, taking Ada’s arm. “We cannot help them today.”
Ada twists out of my grasp, staring at the stage. “We can’t? Don’t you have any money? We might save at least one.”
“We cannot call attention to ourselves,” I say. “I regret it, too.”
Ada looks at the stage once more and then turns to me. Nodding, she takes my arm. “We will come back for them, right?”
“We will try.”
She looks at me with sadness. We both know these slaves will be gone by then, lost and dispersed with their new owners. We have little time for anything else, either. I only take the time to retrieve her friend simply because I know my Ada. She will dig her heels in like a vernex heading to be shorn and refuse to leave this planet without this Thom of hers in tow. We walk along the outskirts of the crowd, trying not to look too deeply into the eyes of the slaves. Still, their faces will be burned into my memory.
I’m already aware of the prison location due to my many scouting trips within this particular trading post. There are several scattered out across the vast landscape of this regional area, and I have scouted them all.
Knowing one’s enemy, especially when they are so skilled at shape shifting, has been key to my survival here. With the confidence of a trader, I steal through the public areas. Ada does well, keeping her head down but moving with the tenacity of someone who belongs despite the slight limp in her gait. She would make a good soldier. Between our own adept maneuvering and the abilities of our cloaks, we manage to pass through the square undetected and find the opening to the stairs. I fear we might need to deal with a guard upon entering, but there isn’t a Chassak to be seen.
This does not surprise me. They are supposedly the only species who have taken permanent residence on this planet. What have they to fear when most species are simply passing through?
Still, their security measures are not nearly as worrisome as Berzee led us to believe. Once below ground, I stop in a small corridor where we cannot be seen. There are several corridors branching out, and I realize I am not certain as to whether this is just a prison or if we will run into actual accommodations for the prison guards. That would be problematic.
“Why have we stopped?”
“We are listening, and we are smelling.”
I cannot see her confused glance beneath her cloak, but I can see it in her stance and hear it in her words.
“What in the world are you talking about?”
“Listen for the clink of chains. Smell for the scent of unwashed bodies. That is where we will find the prisoners.”
Ada pulls back her hood, giving me a disgusted look before standing still, her eyes drifting to the stone as she concentrates on her other senses. She hears the clink first when she says, “There. I think it’s that way.”
We take the corridor on the left and walk toward the sound. Soon, we come across the distinct and pungent scent of waste. We are headed in the correct direction. Ada looks at me grimly, and I nod. “It is not going to be pleasant.”
“I know,” she replies. “We must be close.”
As she speaks, we round a corner and find ourselves directly in front of a huge gated door, very low-tech, but effective. I doubt the inhabitants who built this fortress had the means necessary to build any of the structures I’m used to. However, trouble begins here. Two Chassak guards stand before it, staring hard at us as if they can’t focus on what is in front of them. Without a thought, I punch the one on the left, knocking him to the floor where he fails to recover.
I probably killed him with that one blow. I intended to. There is a soft spot just below their cheekbones on either side where enough pressure is lethal. The challenge involves getting close enough to administer the blow before their poisonous quills are discharged. The other one has already begun to raise its quills, stepping forward to attack. I’m not worried since he has no time to spin around and shoot his quills at me. I lift my fist, aiming for that soft spot again, when my mate takes charge. The guard goes down hard as Ada’s fist finds purchase with his abdomen. She finishes the job by sending a high-kick to the guard’s face. He immediately collapses to the ground.
Glorious.
It is neither the time nor the place to pin her up against these filthy walls and sink my cock into her wet cunt, but the urge to do so is overwhelming. She is my match in every way imaginable. My horns burn with a fire I have not yet felt before, and it takes some doing to force them to lower and wind down against my head. Then I remember her leg.
I grab her shoulders and draw her to me. “Ada, how could you put that kind of weight on your leg? You have no sense of self-preservation.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “This sleeve packs more of a punch than Morphine, and I think it’s starting to heal the break somehow. Is it supposed to do that?”
“It can. I simply wasn’t sure if it would help you in the same manner it does a Chassak or Elysium.”
She smiles and then points to the fallen guards.
“I guess when these assholes don’t have their quills to rely on they aren’t so tough.”
“Very true. They hide behind their quills and their high-tech weapons.”
“Damn bullies,” she mumbles. “Also universal.” She grabs the keys off the belt of the guard she rendered unconscious and begins tes
ting them within the lock of the gate.
Very primitive, indeed. I suppose the Chassaks feel it is sufficient, considering they are the only species residing here.
After several stressful moments, she finds the key and swings the door open. We are in.
※※※※
Ada
The prison is eerily quiet. As we pass the cells, I find several dirtied prisoners of varying races holed up in the corners. The stink of hopelessness and defeat makes me want to free every last one of them, but we don’t have time for that, and I doubt any of them have the strength to run for their lives. One particular cell seems to be filled with strange pod-like objects. Still no sign of Thomasina. I start to get scared, worrying that Berzee is wrong. Maybe Thomasina isn’t here at all but was sold from the stage upstairs days ago. If that happened, she could be anywhere, and I won’t have a chance at finding her.
And what about John?
This thought sends me into a panic, and I call out in a loud whisper, “Thomasina! John! Are you here?”
Kyllell grips my arm as he hears my voice, shaking his head, but the risk pays off immediately.
“Ada! Over here!”
The rough tone of her voice is pure music to my ears. Overcome with relief, I rush toward the sound of Thomasina’s voice. She’s in a strangely lit corner of the prison. As I approach, I note that there is an opening in the roof of the building. Unlike the other cells, this one is exposed to the elements.
As I get close to the cell, a Chassak guard rises out of the darkness. He doesn’t make a sound but looks at us with lethal intent. He’s different than others I have seen. His quills are cut short, almost like a buzz cut. His eyes are dark; almost human looking. I’m surprised to find he’s actually kind of handsome. He’s tall; not quite as tall as Kyllell, but towering over me. He looks more like a sprinter than a weightlifter, but his body is toned and his shoulders are broad.
Still, handsome or no, he’s a prison guard, a Chassak, and he’s carrying a spear. I back up into Kyllell, who immediately pulls me behind his body. He raises his arms to fight, but Thomasina calls from her cell, “No! He’s good. He’s good.”
The Chassak looks at us critically, but then turns to Thomasina and opens her cell door. Thomasina rushes out and grabs hold of me. She smells disgusting, but I hug her tight.
“I’m so glad to see you, girl,” I whisper into her filthy hair.
“Same,” she replies. “I thought you were dead, Ada. I saw them shoot you with those quills. You fell into the ocean! I honestly thought you had drowned.” She clears her throat, fighting back some strong emotion.
“Nah, this big guy behind me fished me out of the water.”
She peers over my shoulder and gives a nod to Kyllell. “Yeah. I’d say your alien looks pretty capable.”
There’s a sly tone in that one comment that I’d rather not acknowledge.
As we let go of each other, I peer into the cell. “Is John…?”
Thomasina shakes her head. “He tried to get away in the submarine.”
“What?” I’m stunned. “Was he trying to stop the Chassaks from taking you?”
Thomasina looks angry despite herself. “Nope. When I saw the Chassaks, I ran to the hatch and called down to tell him that there were aliens aboard, and we were on a different planet. Now that I think about it, I definitely didn’t do it very gently.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Thom,” I say. “It’s nothing you could have prepared for. I’m not sure how much it would have mattered if you had said it gently.”
She sighs and shakes her head, pulling at a string of dirty hair that’s flopped in her face. “I know, but after I yelled that bit of info, he really panicked. I could hear him freaking out down there even as the Chassaks were starting to come for me. When they changed forms…I think between Bert and the whole alien thing, he was not up for it. He dove the sub.”
I stare at her in absolute horror. “But…shit. He didn’t know how to operate the submarine. Did he…”
Thomasina shakes her head. “He forgot to close the hatch.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to repress my anger over John’s blatant stupidity. This isn’t the time, and he must have been beyond coherent thought. He must have drowned in the sub if he dove it with the hatch open. It would have filled with water and trapped him inside. His cowardice caused his death, which feels sad, but abandoning your crew member like that…not trying to help her…it’s really not okay.
I decide dwelling on it isn’t exactly what we’re here for. Time to make a break for it, providing this Chassak guard is friendly.
“How do we get out of here?” I ask him.
He looks at me suspiciously. “It depends. Who are you to my Thomasina?”
“I’m Thomasina’s captain, that’s who. I’m also the person who is going to free ‘your Thomasina’ from this place, which apparently you didn’t have the balls to do,” I snap back.
Thomasina lays her hand on my arm. “He’s been working on freeing me for days,” she explains. “The trade day is the only day that makes it easy to get in and out of the fortress. We’ve been waiting for this day to make our move. We were about to take on the two guards at the gate when we heard some commotion. I assume that was you two?”
“You assume correctly. The guards are disabled,” Kyllell says proudly. “Let’s go.”
Thomasina’s Chassak changes into the prison guard’s form. At least, Thomasina tells us he changes form. He looks pretty much the same to me. He has keys and knows his way around the place. We’re lucky to have him, I realize, as he directs us to the least traveled corridors. Thomasina seems to trust him completely. I’m not sure I would have understood that trust a few days ago, but now, standing next to Kyllell, I get it.
We hover by the entrance as Kyllell hands out further instructions.
“We will not be seen once we cover our heads with these cloaks, but we will walk by you as you pretend to be Thomasina’s guard.”
The Chassak nods. “I will not be questioned since my quills are obviously of higher ranking.”
It takes me a moment to notice that his quills are no longer buzzed but long and higher up on his back. Interesting.
We pass the slave stage again on the way out. It’s empty now, and I try not to weep at the thought of leaving without helping anyone else. Kyllell takes my hand and squeezes, seeming to understand what I’m thinking.
Once we reach the exit to the fortress, things become trickier. Thomasina can be led without the walls of the gated market, but it will seem a bit suspicious to any guards looking down from the high towers above. Once we reach a blind spot just under the gated area, I take Thom under my cloak, and Kyllell must share with the Chassak, something I’m sure he is hell and gone from feeling okay about. I’m grateful to him as we make our way back to the cove in the distance. He didn’t have to make nice with yet another member of a species he abhors.
We finally reach the cove and pile on board the vessel. At this point, if any Chassaks from the towers look our way as we pull out from the overhang, there’s nothing they can do about it, and I doubt they will be able to make out exactly who or what we are from that distance
Thomasina huddles against her Chassak who touches her with reverence. I watch them together in fascination. It seems as if they have formed a permanent bond. It makes me feel jealous that she could care for someone so quickly. That she could have that much trust in someone she just met.
“What’s your name?” I ask the Chassak as Kyllell shoves us off into the water.
“Shale of the Desert Chassaks.”
“And you are a prison guard?” I just don’t understand why a prison guard would be so willing to help us rather than sound the alarm. Then I look at Thom and figure the Chassak has one very good reason.
He shakes his head. “A priest.”
“They punished him for acting against orders. He was sent to guard me as a humiliation technique,” Thomasina says. “Apparently, if
you expose Chassaks to the elements for a couple days, they go into this cocoon state as a protective measure.”
“Those pods I saw in the cells.” What a weird aspect of their species.
“Yup. Awful, right?”
“It is not so awful for them, actually,” Shale says. “They are not in pain. They are in stasis, protected from harm. Though, of course, it is better to be free. I might have considered it, but going into stasis meant I could not protect Thomasina.”
I turn my attention back to Thom, a wry smile on my face. “Protect you, huh? I heard you gave them hell when they first tried to sell you.”
There’s a twinkle in her eye, and Shale’s expression holds an amused grin. “I kept biting people. Anyone who came close.” Thomasina bites the air around her, making me chuckle. “Apparently that freaks them out.”
“So what was their plan? To starve you out?”
“Eventually. As of today, they were hoping dehydration and starvation would wear me down, and then they could sell me at a discount as a prisoner or a breeder or something. Selling me with poison in my system devalues my selling price, so they couldn’t shoot me with quills anymore. Shale was supposed to watch me until I was too fragile to fight.”
“But instead, you started talking to him. He gave you food and water, didn’t he?” I’m not surprised. Thomasina could befriend a wolverine if you gave her a couple days.
“Well, actually, I couldn’t talk much at first. I was sick. Those quills. They make you sick?”
I grimace. “It was unbelievably awful. So was my recovery.”
“It really is an awful toxin. Too bad John isn’t here to gather specimens. Anyway, Shale knows about that poison stuff pretty well. He got an antidote and nursed me through the healing process. And he…well, he protected me.” Thomasina is blushing just talking about it, and I’m imagining he did more than protect her.
My eyes flick to Kyllell’s broad back as he steers us away from the fortress. I find it very interesting—and fortunate—that Thomasina and I encountered two aliens on this planet who were willing to stick their necks out for us. I’m also feeling a little useless. Here I am on this big crusade to save my crew members when Thomasina doesn’t even need saving…and John is dead.
