by F. E. Arliss
Continuing to pull on her clothes and ponder how to approach the coming meet with the Evelsons, Arc stopped in shock when Dag appeared at her door with a platter of food. “You hungry?” he asked, with a grin. “I got this sudden feeling that you were starving! Hope I was right. Of course, I brought enough for me, too!” he added with a little giggle.
“What?!” he practically shouted, at the strange look of astonishment on her face. “What?”
“I think I know what my power is,” Arc whispered.
“Really? Oh, my Mother! Tell me!” Dag demanded, flopping the tray down and stuffing a croissant-like roll in his mouth.
“I was in the queen pool pondering on my ‘power’. After discarding a bunch that I didn’t really want, I thought how nice it would be if I could compel people to be nicer, do better, blah blah blah. I wished that I could compel that bartender on Gateka to fall in love with you. Stuff like that,” Arc said, slowly.
“Oooooh, I like that!” Dag said dreamily, no doubt thinking about the bartender.
“Then I thought how nice it would be if I could compel you to bring me some food because I was starving,” she added, a look of contrition on her face.
Dag burst out laughing. “You pushy bitch,” he yelped. “Oh, my Mother! You’re gonna go around compelling people to wait on you hand and foot!” Sobering, he gazed at her almost pityingly. “Oh my, just how far do you think this compelling thing goes?” Dag asked with trepidation. “That could be one doozy of a power.”
“I know! And, I don’t know. I just now figured out that I’d compelled you to bring me a tray,” Arc said with a sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” They sat together companionably munching away for a few minutes.
“Seriously, did you wish for Petey to love me back?” Dag asked, with a sly grin, about the bartender of his dreams.
“Totally!” Arc replied, grinning from ear to ear. They both chortled with glee.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evil Evelsons
Four days later, the Centurion dropped out of fold-space above the moon the Labrys had been monitoring for over a week. The Evelsons’ sleek personal cruiser had left Uzi two days ago with Barnard Wetzel and several top Evelsons on board.
Arc’s gut was a panic of caution, so she’d been soaking in the queen pool frequently over the last few days trying to bone up on Idolum queen behavior. Each time she learned to control her emotions better and her confidence level had risen dramatically.
With her father’s help, she’d set up weapons and self-defense lessons with the best warriors among the crew and had taken to sparing every day with Queen Altum Juls, whose phenomenal skills kept her on her toes and taught her many valuable lessons.
The meet was to take place on the surface of the moon at a set of designated coordinates that General Monsav had pinpointed to one of the Northern Hemispheres of the moon’s slave colonies.
They were to meet in just a few hours and Arc was nervous. Though certain that none of the Evelsons would recognize her, she knew she would recognize them. That was what had her worried. She’d killed many a Dreasing, but having to kill someone she was related to, that might be bit different. Or not, she guessed. She didn’t like the sons 'o bitches anyway.
It was Commander Quirke who reminded her softly, as she made ready to depart with Angus and Tilson at her side, “Those folks down there are nothing to you now. Just more trash willin’ to hurt others for their own gain. You’re a Quirke now. Not even the same species. They’re nothin’ more than human Dreasing. Keep that steady in your mind, girl, and come home to yer family,” he added huskily, enveloping Arc in a grizzled hug.
A quarter of an hour later she realized that he had been completely correct. As she faced three members of her family -- her uncle Ferrick, her sister Elora, and her father Gustav Evelson -- Arc felt only disdain. These people were vermin. Nothing more.
Sweeping forward as though she owned the universe, Princess Arc Exousia Quirke stopped just short of their feet, causing them to jump back in order to keep from being trodden on. Best to assert who owned the space, Arc thought with satisfaction as she noted the looks of dismay on each of their faces.
Angus Quirke, acting as Lacey Devon, hurried to make the introductions, none of which Princess Arc Exousia Quirke acknowledged. Instead, she simply tapped her foot and rolled her preternaturally green eyes and compelled them to feel uncomfortable and willing to accommodate her every whim.
“Yes, well let’s proceed then, shall we?” Gustav Evelson said, turning to lead the way through an enormous metal gate that was the entrance to the slave colony. “We have a selection of our best lined up and waiting for your approval,” he added with charming smile.
Arc had seen that smile as a child just before he closed in for the kill on some poor sod he was about to fleece of all their holdings or shares. Occasionally, he had used it on her when he felt like punishing her for being a girl instead of a son. Though it seemed her sister Elora was turning out to be an old chip off the block, if her current smugly-calculating countenance was anything to go by.
Sneering at him instead of returning the smile, Arc said icily, “We’ll see. My approval is rather hard to come by these days.”
Gustav Evelson had never felt so out-of-control with a client. Generally, he was on equally haughty footing with the Idolum queens he supplied. They were usually susceptible to his flattery and though extremely dangerous, he could almost always find common ground.
So far, this had not been the case with this princess. She was different. For once in his life, he was feeling very uneasy. Motioning his daughter Elora to join them, he motioned for her to ‘schmooze’ the new client.
After a few inane attempts to start a conversation about Arc’s jewelry, and another couple about her beauty, Elora shrugged her shoulders and gave up.
Arc stopped in front of the long line of human, Soclaued, and Vanguardian prisoners that had been lined up for her perusal. Near the end of the line was a stringily-muscled, stooped figure with long wildly-matted grey hair. Arc recognized the figure immediately. It was her great-great grandmother, Olivia Evelson!
Almost faltering in her disbelief, Arc pulled into her mind the thought to compel her grandmother to raise her head.
Olivia Evelson looked the tall alien straight in the eye, just to let her know that her spirit hadn’t been broken by these evil little upstarts who thought they could humble her by interring her here.
Enraged because his daughter had already fled into space to an untraceable location when he’d found Olivia, Gustav had thrown his great-grandmother’s worthless hide in with a shipment of slaves to be sold to the highest bidder. Served the old crone right, he thought as he watched her now face down the hulking Idolum Princess with the witch-green eyes.
Olivia Evelson was shocked to see the ragingly beautiful Idolum queen slowly shut one startlingly-green eye in a wink. Unsure what to make of that, Olivia kept sharp. Her knees hurt like hell, but she wasn’t going to let that vulture of a grandson of hers see her falter.
Arc walked the line of prisoners with a look of thorough disdain on her face. Most of them looked terrified, which she could completely understand. A few had simply lost the will to live and vacant eyes stared unseeingly past her shoulder. Two of the group were alert and had intelligent gazes and defiant stances. At each of these, Arc gently lowered one eye in a slow wink. Both men shifted slightly, tensing in readiness. Arc put the compelling thought into their minds to stay steady. “Steady boys, steady,” she sent them. “Wait. You’ll know when. Help the others.” Small flickers of recognition in each of their eyes confirmed that each had heard the message.
Turning to Gustav Edelson, Arc sneered, “So, this is your ‘prime choice’ you were telling me about. Shall we conclude our business or proceed to the next location. There are only three in this entire line-up that I have any interest in,” she said contemptuously. “This is hardly the energy supply I was anticipating.”
&nbs
p; Small beads of sweat popped out on Gustav Edelson’s forehead. His daughter and brother shuffled away from him several feet in a clear show of self-preservation.
“We have several more locations for you to peruse, Princess Arc Exousia,” her biological father gasped out, mopping his slim, weasley face.
With a look of incredible boredom, Arc said, “Send their coordinates to my crew and we’ll see if any are in locations that are convenient for my nest. Otherwise, I will conclude my business with you. It’s been vastly disappointing, I must say,” she added, with a thought compelling fear to pool in Evelson’s mind.
Pulling a small tablet from his pocket, he drew up the coordinates and handed the tablet to Angus. Quickly sending the coordinates to the Centurion, Labrys and Talio simultaneously, Angus handed the small device back to the relieved Evelson.
At Angus’ prearranged sign, Arc knew that the Arachnian guards and the Idolum warriors in the control center had been disabled by Queen Altum Juls. Later Arc would learn that she had simply crushed them all with a thought and one simultaneously grisly flick of her wrists.
Turning to the line of prisoners behind her, she gestured to her grandmother to join her. Even in rags Olivia Evelson was regal. How the lineage had gone so bad with such magnificent blood in the line, Arc had no idea.
As her grandmother came forward, the look on Gustav Evelson’s face flickered from glee to astonishment, then back to glee.
Olivia Evelson stopped beside the tall, regal queen. For some reason she trusted the woman and had felt compelled to do as she asked and join her.
Meeting Arc Exousia Quirke’s eyes, Olivia Evelson had to tilt her head well back. But it was worth it. Once their eyes met, the powerful Queen gently offered one large hand to the tiny woman next to her and said, “Would you like a hand, Grandmother?”
Placing her small hand into the large one offered, Olivia Evelson, with a startled double-take, recognized the features of the slightly elongated face that met her gaze. It was her granddaughter, Calista. She’d risked everything to save her and it seemed she had.
Now it was her turn to be saved. Olivia squeezed the large hand with all her might, slight though it was. “I would appreciate it, Granddaughter,” she said, aiming for an equally cool and aristocratic tone. Let that rat Gustav cook in his own juices over that, she thought with a nod to the tall alien next to her.
“What’s going on?” Gustav demanded, turning to see his daughter and brother struggling in the arms of several Idolum warriors. These warriors were not the ones in the crisp black uniforms of his own legion of liaisons. Instead they were draped in animal skins and had grey, untamed hair hanging to their waists.
Nodding to the two men that she’d cued in the prisoner line-up, Arc said, “I believe these two gentlemen would like to introduce you to the rest of the colony.” Grins of delight and relief quickly turned into grim resolve as the men stepped forward and clasped the struggling Gustav Evelson between them.
“Who are you?” he demanded as he was being dragged away, followed by an equally flailing and dumbfounded daughter and brother.
“No one you know,” Arc said firmly. “I am Arc Exousia Quirke, an entirely different species than you.” With those simple words, Arc led her grandmother Olivia to the waiting shuttle.
Around the camp dazed people were reacting to the news of their sudden freedom. Waves of bodies crushed guard towers and ransacked food stores. It would take a while for the fervor to die down. In the meantime, warriors from the Idolum Alliance would watch and catalog the mammals’ behaviors.
Some would not comport themselves well and would be segregated but allowed to farm plots on the far side of the moon. It was not for the Alliance to judge and sentence them, only to give them another chance. A chance to make their own way and not to prey on the weak.
Some would rise as leaders and inspire others. Some would find, through genetic testing, that they had family on Uzi or one of the outposts and elect to go there. It would take time to right the wrongs.
There were six other colonies to dismantle in the meantime, if the coordinates given over by Gustav Evelson were anything to go by. Captain Sasha Kelty had a trustworthy contact within the Intergalactic Guard and they were quietly leaping into action to apprehend the guards at Asteroid Alcatraz that had been paid for loads of prisoners.
The Intergalactic Guard would also help relocate slaves held in other compounds. Many of the human survivors would go to Uzi. Many would be sent to Giaica. A few survivors would be welcome on Renegar.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Quirkes, Quirkes and More Quirkes
It took Arc almost three days to explain everything to her grandmother in a way that she could understand. The information was taxing, and Olivia was exhausted and undernourished.
Safely aboard the Centurion, Olivia had relaxed visibly when introduced to Ewan Quirke. She still glared occasionally at Angus as though his role had been real rather than play-acting. Arc hoped her grandmother’s antipathy would wear off with time.
After a few days of food and rest, Olivia Evelson was beginning to bounce back. She would often run her hands through Arc’s hair and say, “My, I just can’t believe it. My girl’s a princess.” Ewan Quirke would burst out laughing and say, “I know! Right?” in agreed amazement. Arc would merely glare at them.
She finally threatened to compel them to curtsey to her if they kept that up. Realizing she could do it, the two apologized and ambled off, looking chagrined. When her father glanced back at her, she winked and blew him a kiss. He winked back.
Back on Renegar, Olivia Evelson’s name was quickly being registered in the Intergalactic database as Olivia Quirke. All the Quirke brothers had agreed that she reminded them of their mother. Feisty, they’d said, and that they’d be tickled pink to have her as a Quirke.
Dag had received comms from the cute bartender on Gateka, too. They had a date arranged for later in the month when Dag accompanied the Clyde back to that planet for another load of technological equipment.
Landing on Valoria, weeks after the slave ring had been broken up, Arc was excited to see her new home. She’d never gotten to set foot on it, though the crew of the Clyde had all been there after she’d been shuttled over to the Centurion in order to pursue the crippled Idolum sloop.
Her father had assured her it was wonderful. It certainly seemed so from above. A darker blue and green orb than Uzi, Earth or Geboren, it had a similar atmosphere but harsher conditions in places.
As the Centurion landed, waves of warriors lined the gentle valley where the central habitat lay. Similar in shape to the peapod-styled Aasha on Geboren, the habitat edged one side of a valley that swept out to the horizon in a long glorious vista.
The troops of warriors presented their colors for what seemed like hours on end, but Arc was so pleased to see them and their joyful recognition of her as a Idolum Princess of their nest, that it seemed to pass in seconds.
The last part of the welcome ceremony was the presentation of gifts. Arc had asked General Monsav how to show her appreciation and he’d told her gruffly and with a great deal of affection, just to be herself. That would please the warriors more than any formal show.
Two large crates were wheeled out from a large wooden barn-like structure to one side of the parade ground. From the containers sounds of discontent emanated with growing gusto.
Arc hurried forward as large canvases were pulled from atop the two crates. Silence hit like a palpable blanket.
The first crate held a huge animal that looked like a giant hyena. Huge erect ears topped amber eyes. A long narrow snout tipped by a black nose that quivered now with her scent, jutted from a thick squat head mounted on a long uphill body.
Ridges of dark gray plating covered the animal’s body, yet small tufts of yellow, wiry hair could be seen between the plates as though the animals undercoat was a soft skin of slick fur.
Tufts of fur were evident on the tips of its ears and the tip of its tail. Que
en Altum Juls had a companion that looked like a huge cat. So perhaps this was to be her companion, Arc thought, this huge hyena. She had wished for a companion … and a horse.
Turning to the next crate, Arc gasped. It was a horse. Not like any horse she’d seen on Earth, of course, but a horse nonetheless. It was very tall, and heavily muscled. Its mane stood straight up and was white on the bottom and tipped with black at the tops. It had a black forelock and a long black tail. Its body was the same slightly pale-yellow color that peeked from beneath the dog-hyena's armor plating. That coarsely, wiry fur must be some sort of indigenous coat for the mammals on the planet, Arc decided.
Motioning for the warriors to open the crates, Arc rushed to greet first one animal then the other. Patting and crooning to the horse, which she would later discover was a mare, she suddenly knew that its name was Idem. Or, in other words, ‘the same as she’. Arc was overwhelmed and hugged the mare fiercely.
