Unexpected Prize

by Stone, Layla

Chapter Thirteen

  Pirates

  Cara asked the Chancellor to wait outside while she went back into the house to shower and dress. Before leaving, she gobbled down two pims.

  She didn’t trust the Chancellor, but she did believe that Jarr-o would take his pound of flesh from the male if anything should happen. Closing the front door, she peered up at the older Angny.

  “I have a meeting with a captain at the Space Dock. We will go there first.”

  Not that Cara wanted to return home anymore, but thinking about being at the Space Dock did pique her curiosity. “How far is that?”

  “Near the city.”

  The sun was already high in the sky, and she knew she would burn again. Abruptly, she ran back inside to grab something to cover up with, and then she filled a water bag.

  Back out front, the Chancellor looked at her face covering and asked, “What is that on your head?”

  “It will keep the sun from burning my skin.”

  The Chancellor’s eyes widened. “The sun burns your skin?” He shook his head at her. “I feel for Jarr-o’s children.”

  It was a slight, and she remembered Jarr-o’s father saying the same thing. She was offended and wanted to flip him off, but she had the soundness of mind not to pick a fight with the male who was supposed to look after her. Not that she doubted Jarr-o’s fighting style, but if the worst happened, she would find herself at the mercy of this male once more.

  When the Chancellor realized that she wasn’t going to comment, he flicked his wrist. “Let’s go.”

  He didn’t walk as fast as Jarr-o, which was nice, but it also prolonged the trek. It took two hours, and that was an hour and a half too long for Cara. When they finally made it to Dock 56, there was a short male with tan skin that had a slight shine to it there. He was at least three inches shorter than her height, and his face was large and wrinkled. He stood in front of a long, rectangular, light silver spaceship with rounded edges. The sides were a reflective black. There was a long, thin plank that extended from the ship to the blacktop.

  “Mallory, you sent a message saying that you had something I might be interested in. I’d like to see it now.” The Chancellor didn’t seem to be on friendly terms with the man.

  “Wait. Now before ya go see’n anythin’, I need to make sure ya understand the price first,” Mallory said, holding up a fat, stubby hand. “I’m wantin’ twelve hundred keleps.”

  Straight-faced, the Chancellor asked, “Are you selling me the ship?”

  Cara wasn’t sure if he were joking or not, but it made her chuckle. From the little she understood of their money system, twelve hundred was a lot of money.

  “No.” The old man shook his head defensively. “It’s just that this product is one-o’-a-kind. You’ll never get a chance to own one o’ these. It was a miracle I was able to get it under control ‘fore it killed everyone on board.”

  Now Cara understood that the Chancellor was here to buy a fighter or something for his arena.

  “And what exactly is it?”

  Mallory looked around. “It’s somethin’ special. And it’s somethin’ I think ya need now that your big fighter ditched ya.”

  Jarr-o? Word had spread fast and far.

  “You told me this was something I would be interested in, Mallory. I am not interested in buying a fighter, especially one that would foolishly kill everyone onboard a spaceship, knowing he needed them to fly the craft,” the Chancellor said.

  Mallory shifted around, looking shady as hell. “Well, it might be ‘cause we kinda messed wit his head a bit.”

  Moments passed before the Chancellor clipped out, “Explain that.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Mallory said, “Well, ya see, it’s like this. I bought ‘im thinkin’ he was somethin’ else. Thinkin’ he was Terran, ‘cause he looked it, and ya know they’re good product.” His beady black eyes cut to Cara, “You got your own I see.

  “And so, I bought ‘im up, but when he woke up, he went crazy, right. He just started zappin’ us wit ‘is mind. And we thought we were gonna die, but our cyborg, Sands—I got it from the Federation auction, see—well, he has a blocker on ‘is mind. And he knocked the blasted guy out.”

  Cara instinctively backed up. Just thinking that there was someone on that ship that could kill with his mind made her uneasy.

  “And you’ve kept him unconscious since?” Shaking his head, the Chancellor said, “What am I supposed to do with an unconscious male?”

  “Aside from the obvious?”

  Cara forced herself to stay quiet instead of asking, “Oh, there’s an obvious? And what would that be, you disgusting pig?”

  “Yes, aside from using him as fodder,” the Chancellor said in a dull voice.

  “He’d be good fodder, no?” Mallory smiled smugly.

  “I don’t buy fodder, Mallory. You should have contacted someone else.” The Chancellor finally looked down at Cara and used his hand to urge her to turn around without touching her.

  “Wait, wait, I can lower the price to one hundred keleps.”

  “Goodbye, Mallory. Don’t contact me again,” the Chancellor called out without turning his head.

  “Fine, you ol’ grey bat, I’ll do twenty keleps. Final offer. But I need somethin’ to make up for what he did to my ship. The whole defense system is fried, and Sands has been workin’ night and day to fix it.”

  The Chancellor slowed, and Cara was about to say something to him when he pinned her with his eyes. She grudgingly closed her mouth. Clasping his hands together in front of him, the Chancellor said, “Twenty keleps, and whatever you’re using to keep him asleep.”

  The short man snarled. “You played me. I shoulda known!”

  Pulling out a sack made of light tan leather, he handed it over. “Twenty. Where is the male?”

  “I’ll ‘av’ Sands bring ‘im out.” He snatched the bag and stomped back up the plank, yelling something in a language Cara couldn’t understand.

  “Space pirates.”

  Cara peered up to see the Chancellor’s eyes beaming. He found her eyes and added, “They are my favorite to negotiate with. Especially when they are desperate to get rid of their troubling cargo.”

  “You’re buying a murderer? One who can kill with his mind? And you think you can control him?” She hissed the last between her teeth.

  It took the Chancellor a few moments to respond. “You don’t get what I’m doing, do you?” He took in a slow breath and said, “I forgot, you don’t know me or my reputation.”

  His arrogance was overwhelming in the air around her. Waving her hand at him, she asked, “By all means, please explain, because I was right here listening to you, and it seemed pretty clear that you swindled a space pirate out of a lot of money, and you plan to use the unconscious psycho as fodder—though I have no idea what that is.”

  The Chancellor peered at the ship and then looked back at her. She followed his gaze to see that no one had exited the transport yet.

  “I don’t barter in slaves…well, you being the only, but since it was Jarr-o who you were going to, I knew he would do right by you. I knew he had an aversion to slaves, so I knew he wouldn’t abuse one. But I misjudged him. I didn’t think he would take you for his breeder. You’re very lucky.” He snorted. “But Mallory doesn’t know I don’t deal in slaves, which is how I got the better deal. Because I don’t need or want the male. However, I can offer him up to the Federation as pirate cargo, and they will pay me a substantial reward, then either return him to his own planet if he does not have a record, or prosecute him according to his crimes…if he has any.”

  That information came as a shock and a slap. So, the Chancellor could have contacted the Federation, and the Federation would have sent her home. She could already be on a ship headed to Earth, and with the Federation as her transport, she would have been safe and sound. More appalling was that if they were aware of how many languages she knew, or how easy i
t was for her to learn them, she might have been able to procure a linguistics job.

  She pictured it right then. How easy her life would be in the Federation. She wouldn’t have to return home to a dangerous neighborhood. She wouldn’t be looked down on again, and she could dictate every aspect of her life. Total freedom.

  But instead, the Chancellor had used her as payment.

  That rubbed. She felt her emotions crash into each other, starting with resentment and betrayal—even though they weren’t friends, it still felt like it. Followed by shame for wanting to leave Jarr-o after everything he’d done for her.

  She was conflicted, and at the Chancellor’s knowing gaze, he knew it. Which made his next comment confusing.

  “You don’t deserve him. Not if your loyalty can change so quickly.” The Chancellor turned to watch a large cage being pushed down the plank. Inside was a lump, who must have been the killer. The one pushing the cage was a tall, human-looking, male cyborg with long, dark hair, thick, dark eyebrows, and facial hair a few days old. His left jaw was black metal, and it ran down into a dark brown, worn-in leather jacket. His left hand was also black metal with gold embellishments. The other hand was gloved. His face was impassive as he stopped five feet in front of the Chancellor.

  “I was instructed to deliver the Cerebral to you.”

  Cerebral? Was that his species? Cara didn’t know what a Cerebral was.

  The Chancellor looked the cyborg over as if he were inspecting him for purchase. “You’re…sentient?”

  The male’s eyes flashed on something, but Cara wasn’t quick enough to know what it meant.

  “Where do you want him?” Sands asked.

  The Chancellor tapped the side of his leg with the tips of his fingers for a brief second before responding, “I also paid for whatever is keeping him unconscious.”

  The cyborg didn’t move or speak. And then his upper lip curled, and his jaw flexed. “Did you?” He tipped his head back. “Well, that would be me.”

  The Chancellor’s eyes beamed with evil satisfaction. “Excellent. Then follow me.”

  The male tried to contain it, but Cara could see his displeasure immediately. But the cyborg followed them dutifully.

  Cara wanted to ask what the Chancellor planned to do with Sands, but she only got out the first sound before he cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t question me. This is my business, not yours.”

  Cara didn’t care for his rudeness, but she did understand that it was not her right—or the place—to question him. She kept her mouth shut and followed the Chancellor as he backtracked down the docks. They stopped at a small, clay building with another red and brown linen roof. Another Angny stepped out and greeted the Chancellor with respect.

  “All done, Chancellor?”

  “Yes.”

  The other Angny looked at Cara, the Cerebral, and the cyborg. “What did—” He saw the Chancellor’s face and stopped himself. “What would you like me to report to the Federation about your trade?”

  Why does he have to report anything? Cara thought to herself.

  “Tell them I have a Luri waiting for pick-up.”

  A Luri? She spoke the Chancellor’s language, but she had no idea what a Luri was. She made the leap that he was referring to the Cerebral and not the cyborg. He seemed way too interested in him.

  The Angny nodded. “I will report your Luri and have someone send you word when the Federation convoy arrives.”

  “Make sure they have room for at least two…” He looked at Cara momentarily. “Possibly three Luri.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Underground

  With a new purpose, Jarr-o marched into the large cave tunnel that opened into a big, open-roofed cavern as the hot afternoon sun shone in. The walls had large pockets and holes—tunnels to other parts of the mountain. Several groups of males had gathered at the sides of the large cavern. There was a subtle decline from the outer cavern to the middle, marking an oblong, dirt and stone arena.

  The audience began to cheer and scream. The energy of the audience sizzled into his already hard-pumping blood. Standing in the middle of the oblong ring was a slightly shorter Angny with hair cut short on the sides of his head, standing up only in the middle and kept in place by wraps of red leather. He had no scars and no real weight to his stature. Jarr-o wondered if he were there to announce his entrance or if this was Gus-ng.

  The lone fighter smirked and pointed at a high area behind him. Jarr-o slowly turned, keeping his opponent in his periphery. A familiar shape stood in the center of an alcove.

  A female with long hair in three tight braids. Her eyes were wide with shock. Her dark grey skin matched Jarr-o’s, and her mouth was missing a pair of small, pearl-colored tusks. It was his sister.

  She was here. Alive.

  Garr-n was alive. She had been in this horrible place for a year. And because he’d thought her dead, she had suffered. The weight of his guilt was crushing. The same red-tattooed Angny who had trespassed on his property held her. His hand was wrapped around her upper arm, but they were too close to the edge of the cavern…if she fell, she would die.

  The loan fighter in the middle of the arena called out, “You fight me and win…Bor-ng sets her free. You go after your sister first, she’ll go face-first off that ledge.”

  This was unlike any of Jarr-o’s past fights. He was thinking…hard. Mostly, he was worried about his sister. Would he be able to reach her in time after he won? He doubted the honor of the male holding her at the edge of the high cavern. He thought the male who’d called him out must be Gus-ng, but he didn’t look seasoned at all, which was bad because that meant he didn’t just cheat, he did it professionally.

  “Are you Gus-ng?”

  An evil smile curled up the warrior’s face. “I am. It’s nice to know you’ve heard of me,” he said, smirking. “Did your father finally tell you about losing a fight to me? Or that I spared his life after he offered your sister as my prize?”

  Gus-ng must have seen Jarr-o’s shock because his smirk turned downright sadistic. “So, he’s still keeping that from you, hmm. Well, he always was a coward.” Then the male Angny touched his chest. “But I’m not afraid of you, especially since she’s mine by law. My prize. One that I’ve used over and over until she bled between her legs.”

  Rage swept through Jarr-o, and he fought to keep it from registering on his face. He wanted to rip into Gus-ng’s chest cavity, pull out his still-beating heart, and crush it with his bare hands.

  The spectators had been making a full circle around Gus-ng and Jarr-o.

  Gus-ng’s upper lip curled. “She’s not your same innocent sister anymore. Even if you do win her back, which you won’t, little Garr-n is a grownup now. An experienced one, who has been passed around to all of my fighters.”

  Jarr-o’s blood was boiling. “When you’re done chatting, I’m ready to begin. But since this is your arena, by all means, continue.” Jarr-o held his hands out wide in a traditional gesture of the beginning to a fair fight. Gus-ng laughed, and a number of the audience joined in.

  “As you wish, first gladiator.” Gus-ng threw a series of knives at Jarr-o, starting the fight.

  Sidestepping the blades, Jarr-o didn’t look back or concern himself with any crowd injuries. He kept his focus sharp and his eyes trained on his challenger. He continued to cross his feet. Both fighters circled the ring, keeping in step with one another.

  He waited until Gus-ng grew tired of waiting. In a burst of arrogance, Gus-ng rushed Jarr-o, a novice move and mistake. Jarr-o dropped his right arm and grabbed a handful of dirt then released it into his opponent’s eyes. Sliding his feet under Gus-ng, he dropped him, making the fighter look inexperienced. Jarr-o didn’t wait for Gus-ng to get up, he reared back and threw what should have been a killing blow.

  A sharp pain hit him in the right shoulder.

  Jarr-o whipped around, looking for Gus-ng’s partner in the fight, and w
as struck on the other shoulder, coming from the other direction. Gus-ng threw up his hands and broke into a taunting roar. “The top gladiator, taken down by a pair of sleeping darts.”

  Jarr-o felt for the first dart and pulled it free, then quickly found the second. Gus-ng’s laugh died when he realized that Jarr-o was not falling to his knees and blacking out like the darts should have caused him to do.

  Jarr-o charged forward, wrapping his arms around the cheater, and landed hard on the ground, pulling up to punch the Angny in the mouth. The first hit connected with one tusk, breaking it in half, causing the young fighter to scream out like a child for help.

  Jarr-o only stopped hitting Gus-ng when he heard his sister cry out. He looked up, hoping she wasn’t falling to her death.

  Gus-ng twisted and bucked Jarr-o off. They both stood and began their fighting dance again, slowly rounding on each other.

  “I am going to kill you, take your status, and then take great pleasure in killing your sister,” Gus-ng said, spitting out a small glob of blood.

  Jarr-o didn’t respond. Talking was pointless in a fight and only drew in an opponent.

  “You may be immune to emin-oil, but you’re not immune to leza.”

  Whipping around to deflect the leza dart containing the hallucinogen, he felt a small pinch on the back of his thigh.

  He was unsure if the Diari would keep him from hallucinating or not. So he had no idea if the tall and thin Fire-Fevor was truly walking out of another cavern at the far side of the arena or not. Jarr-o turned frantically, looking for Gus-ng, but he wasn’t anywhere in the oblong ring.

  The audience around him cheered again. The noise upset his concentration. He blinked several times as a tall, lean creature with long, claw-like hands wielded a ball of fire. The monster’s teeth were all sharp, designed for it to rip into its charcoaled food. Its head was distorted with a pair of horns that hugged the sides of its naked head. The male was marked with ancient writing, his skin black. His veins filled with fire could be seen clearly as he worked the fireball around and around, walking slowly through the crowd.