by Viola Grace
“You are early. Thank you.”
“Go, get some rest. You look like you need it.”
Kormingate nodded and walked out with her slow and careful pacing proving her exhaustion.
Caxton settled in the monitor’s chair and elevated it to view her block.
She activated the announcements. “Good morning, ladies. Caxton is online. Please behave accordingly.”
A few called out morning greetings, and Caxton settled in with her mind broadcasting a calming wave.
Checking the logs, she sighed. Kormingate had neglected to speak with her assigned prisoners. That added them to Caxton’s roster. What was she doing all night?
Caxton took a closer look at some of the door hinges and grimaced. “Maintenance bots, please attend cells seven, eight, eleven, fifteen and twenty-two. Full assessment on containment and structure is requested.”
Bots were the only safe method of repairing the building while the prisoners were in the common area.
It took her an hour to work through the maintenance that should have been done by Kormingate. Forced retirement was not too far away, but Caxton had no idea what retirement for a Null entailed.
She settled the chair and got out of it, locking it down before she went for a walk through the block. Everyone was out and in the common area. Food had been consumed and implements accounted for and put away.
“Good day, ladies. How is everyone today?”
Her three dozen inmates looked at her, some scowled and a few smiled.
“Juara, you were on the schedule for counselling regarding your court case. Would you care to speak with me, or would another Null—”
Juara leaped to her feet and smiled. “You, please. Now, please.”
Broadcasting a five-hundred-metre radius was now par for the course. If anyone got closer than three, her mind tripped into failsafe and everyone dropped.
For now, she just messed with talents and kept folks calm.
She took the rich purple woman to a nearby table, and they spoke of what Juara hoped to get from the court and what had prompted her initial infraction.
Caxton listened and compared what she knew of Nyal law with the acts of piracy that Juara was guilty of.
“If you plead to be sent to a colony world, it will be your best bet at survival. The plea is up to you, but killing Imperium troops is not going to go down well. I cannot make a judgment for you, but a colony world allows you hope at future freedom.” Caxton spoke calmly with emphasis on the last two words.
Juara frowned, blinked and smiled slowly. “Got it.”
“That said, if you do reoffend, the penalty is death without trial. Do keep that in mind.” Caxton nodded with a tight smile.
Juara got up, and Caxton turned to collect her next prisoner.
She went through the Kormingate’s prisoners and then focused on her own, checking on their pleas and how they were planning on representing themselves.
Kreatha Mrkadu was as lean and elegant as always when she finally sat across from Caxton.
“Have you given thought to your plea?”
“I have. You are correct. While the Imperium’s ambassador claimed that he had the right to insult my family, Rohul never authorized an embassy on its soil. He had no power, no right, and I was within my rights to have my trees rip him apart.”
Caxton winced, but she nodded. “If you are ready to enter the plea, we will be going to the trial later in the day.”
She frowned. “I thought Null Iolo was coming with me.”
Caxton chuckled. “It seems that there is something making the Nulls ill. I have been pegged for your court hearing.”
Kreatha frowned. “Will you stay next to me the whole time?”
“Of course. That is what I am there for.”
A flicker of relief brightened Kreatha’s features. “Good. That’s good.”
Something about the way she said it kept Caxton on edge for the rest of her shift.
When Null Yoplia took over the block, Caxton grabbed a meal and returned to pick up Kreatha at the court exit.
Kreatha’s striped features looked tense.
“It will be fine, Kreatha. Ambassadors that grab other men’s wives get torn to pieces all the time.”
Kreatha chuckled. “They do on Rohul.”
They were both relaxed as they left the cellblocks and walked the halls to the courthouse built into the station.
The observation windows let the prisoners see nothing but space all around them. It was an interesting feature.
The judges were seated on their raised dais, and it was time to start the show.
Prosecutors, defense attorneys and the judges all spoke before Kreatha made her statement. She stuck to her guns. Rohul was not officially part of the Imperium. It had neither been surrendered, conquered nor bound by treatise. There was no reason for the ambassador to have attempted an assault on Kreatha and every reason for her to defend herself.
The judges were about to rule when a flicker of shadow caught Caxton’s attention. The windows exploded, men with guns came running through the open wounds in the station, somehow making headway against the vacuum that was removing all the air.
Caxton felt Kreatha grip her wrist a moment before a fist struck her. Damn, she didn’t see it coming.
Her talent spluttered and another jolt struck her. This time, it was power, and it fried her nervous system in short order. She was down for the count.
Chapter Three
Kreatha woke with a breather on in the med bay of her flagship. Her husband was at her side.
She pried the mask away and pulled him in close for a kiss. “Artruo. I missed you.”
He chuckled. “It has been six months, love. I have more than missed you, but this was the first time that they let you out where we could get you.”
He gripped her waist, and she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his arms, but something was nagging at her. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days. We set course for home the moment that we had you and that guard of yours.”
She sat up so fast, she cracked into his skull. “Caxton! Where did you put her?”
He gave her a sly grin. “Your brother had an excellent idea for dealing with the Null. He put her in an SRT on unlimited repeat. She hasn’t been a problem.”
Kreatha felt like throwing up. “She has been in the machine for three days?”
“Yeah, the men keep taking bets on how long she will last.”
She shoved him out of her way, got off the bed and ran for the research bay.
She looked at the men watching the vid and readouts and barked a command. “Out!”
They scattered. Her brother tried to explain his master plan, but she backhanded him.
She went to the machine and lowered the settings slowly, with tears tracking down her face. Caxton had been beaten before she was put in the machine.
Her one friend in that hideous place, the one person who wanted her freedom as much as she did, who treated everyone with fresh eyes and no inborn prejudice was barely alive.
The machine had offered rudimentary medical treatment and life support, but Caxton’s pulse was so faint it was nearly undetectable.
Kreatha opened the unit but couldn’t look at the raw and torn mess that her friend had become. Death by forced pleasure was a joke to the men, but the invasive methods of the high settings were a brutal and cruel way to go.
Artruo came in, and he grunted. “What a mess.”
“Get a medic. Get them all. She needs healing, and she needs it now.” Kreatha hauled at her to free her from the machine. The blood made her skin stick.
Artruo went to the wall and ordered every medic and healer to the research bay.
“Why does it matter? She was one of your captors.”
“Matter? She was my friend, Artruo. She kept me safe. Kept all of us safe. Other Nulls would play with us, but for six hours a day,
we could relax. She talked to us. Walked with us, and they did this. This!” Her tears were coming fast and thick.
“Let me take her, love. You can barely walk. I will take her to the gurney, and she will get help. I promise.”
Kreatha reluctantly stepped aside and let her husband pick up her friend. Their attachment had been sudden, without the undercurrent of sexuality that other Nulls had encouraged. Equal and different. It had been a very basic equation. Neither of them were native to Nyal space and laws, and it had bound them together.
Artruo lifted Caxton, and her limp body appeared devoid of life. He settled her on a gurney as the medics and healers came in.
Kreatha yelled, “Fix her! You broke her, fix her!”
Artruo came and held her tight as the men moved around her and the healers began to work. When the screams started, Kreatha cried again. It was going to be a long road back for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Iolo had deserved to die, not Caxton.
* * * *
The Sexual Reflex Test was not a test, it was a computer program designed to stimulate a person to orgasm. Amylia had had one before, and she wasn’t a fan.
When Kreatha’s brother sentenced her to die by SRT, she knew it was going to be slow, painful and humiliating. Apparently, that was the desired effect.
Every orgasm weakened her until she started blacking out. The machine would wait, and then, it would start again. At a certain point, pain tipped into the equation and became part and parcel of her release. She cried, she screamed but she didn’t beg. There was no use in begging. They were enjoying this too much.
She could smell her own blood, feel the raw nerves and tried not to move. The machine started over if she moved.
She heard Kreatha come in and heard her confirmation of what Amylia had thought to be a friendship and then more pain.
The burning pain of healing was familiar and welcome, but it didn’t make it pleasant.
She could hear herself shouting, her voice hoarse and throat raw. Injections were fired into her from all angles, and her nerves felt less like they were on fire.
She was getting better, but it was going to take a while before she heard a buzzing noise without flinching again.
A comfortable pillow, comfortable room and dark sheets were what she woke up to. There was a pitcher of water beside the bed with a glass waiting for her. She sat up slowly, feeling as if she was back training with Yimtoa.
The water was cool, and it soothed her throat.
Her sitting up must have triggered an alarm. A man came in, and he bowed low. “Lady Caxton, our queen desires you to join her for a meal when you rise.”
She croaked, “Thank you. Is there anything for me to wear?”
He nodded again and walked to the wardrobe, pulling out a long, toga-type garment. “Do you require help dressing?”
“No thanks. I have felt worse and still managed a full day of work.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “I will just be out the door.”
“Thank you.”
He glanced at her, his golden eyes surprised. “You are welcome.”
The moment he was out the door, she levered herself out of bed and slowly wobbled to her feet. She pulled the dress on, fastened it and figured that shoes were too difficult to manage right then. Unless she had help.
She opened the door a crack. “Excuse me, please?”
“Yes, Lady Caxton?”
“I... are there shoes in here?”
He nodded, “Of course. I will help you.”
He eased past her and opened the wardrobe again, taking out some flat slippers. He knelt at her feet and slid her right foot into one of them while she braced herself on his shoulders.
Her left foot was soon snug, and he smiled up at her. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” He got to his feet and offered her his arm. “Please take my arm for stability.”
She nodded. “Right. Of course. So, this is Kreatha’s breakout?”
“We needed to extract her when she was accessible.”
“And this is a common attack pattern of your people.”
“It is.”
“So she knew. No wonder she flipped out when she found out I was scheduled to escort her. She would have to take out the Null next to her, and that was me.”
“She was... upset when she found out what had been done to you. Her brother assumed that you were one of her captors.”
“Nope. I was just there to do a job and make sure that no one got hurt.” She stepped a little too quickly, and her inner thigh muscles pulled.
“So she has informed us. Her family owes you a blood debt.”
“Why?”
“Because you were a friend, and they nearly tortured you to death. We take that very seriously.”
“Did you call Kreatha your queen?”
“Certainly.” He smiled down at her softly. “And here we are.”
He steered her around a corner where an observational bubble contained a table and some comfortable chairs. Kreatha was sitting and staring out at the stars. She jerked her head around the moment she heard them. “Caxton. Oh, thank the goddess you are all right.”
Amylia let go of her escort and made her way slowly to the arms of her friend. “All right is an overestimate. I am up and running. Everything else will take time.”
Kreatha’s huge gold eyes welled with tears. “I am so sorry that they did that to you.”
“They thought I was one of your oppressors, and they had spent six months feeling helpless. They lashed out. I won’t say I liked it, but I understand the motivation.”
Kreatha helped her to sit. “You are very good at understanding motivation.”
“It is a hobby of mine. No matter the society or species, the motivations of survival, reproduction or territory are common. You fell across all three of those motives.”
Kreatha sat across from her and poured the tea before loading a plate. “I am their queen. They worried.”
“And yet, you didn’t mention that to the court.”
Kreatha shrugged. “I didn’t feel it needed stating.”
“It would have made your actions inviolate. The ambassador assaulted the ruler of Rohul. Even the Imperium would have killed him for that.”
“They would have?”
Amylia chuckled weakly and sipped at her tea. “See? Societal prejudices can rear up and mess with you.”
“Well, Caxton—”
“Amylia.”
“What?”
“My name is Amylia. Caxton is my family name. Null Caxton is my title. I am here in neither capacity. I am here as your friend... Amylia.”
Kreatha smiled. “Amylia. I am not familiar with societies beyond my own. The Imperium was after us for some of our trees. We have some of the richest oxygen-producing trees in the sector.”
“And you control them all.”
“Just the ones with vines.” Kreatha winked. “Now, eat. You have been out for days.”
Amylia picked up some of the greens on the small plate, and she nibbled until she confirmed that she wasn’t going to lose the little she had eaten.
Kreatha remained quiet and asked, “Why were you really in court?”
“Because I didn’t want you facing it alone. I had no idea that this was going to happen.” Amylia looked at her wryly. “You did.”
“I did. There hasn’t been a lost queen among the Rohul in the last seven centuries. I knew my Artruo wasn’t going to start now.”
“Your husband?”
“Yes. We were bonded for three months when the Imperium came calling. They caught us by surprise then, but it will not happen again. My people do not take kindly to the high-handed behaviour that was exhibited. We will defend ourselves.”
“Why wasn’t I left for dead?” She nibbled at her meal, watching the amount she had been able to consume and continuing slowly.
Kreatha smiled slightly. “According to Artruo, when you were stunned, I grabbed you and wouldn’t let go. They had to take you with me.”
“And yet you hit me.”
“I had to keep you from knocking us all out. I knew that you wouldn’t expect it from me, so I apologise for the assault.”
“Considering the events which followed, I will have to think about accepting that apology.”
“My brother will be made to pay. Right now, he is in the hold, scouring the waste ducts with a small brush.”
Amylia cocked her head. “May I recommend an alternative punishment?”
“Certainly. Anything I can do.” Kreatha leaned forward with an earnest expression.
“Fine. Give him five percent of the time that I spent in the SRT. Full intensity. If he does the time without begging to leave, we are even. If he asks to get out, we will have to think of something else.”
Kreatha leaned back. “That is devious.”
“Thank you. It is his choice. Your punishment for as long as you choose, or mine and done.” She smiled tightly.
“You have a devious mind, Cax—Amylia.”
Amylia smiled and sipped at her tea. “It comes and goes.”
Kreatha grinned. “Do you want to be there when he goes into the machine?”
“Yes. I would like him to be played the audio track from when I was put in. He was very chatty, and while I can’t be as cruel, I don’t find any issue with him being treated to the same words that he whispered into my ear.”
Kreatha’s lips tightened. “I am beginning to think that my youngest sibling is a vindictive little shit.”
“I am thinking that he is going to be taught a lesson.” Amylia raised her teacup in a toast.
Chapter Four
Thrameon lasted less than an hour in the machine. He was begging and whimpering as the machine aroused him for the third time, with his own hateful words being whispered into his ear via the headset.
Amylia sat in the corner. There were no bets, no giggling, no jeers. Kreatha’s mate was taking her place in the observation duties. Seeing her brother jerked off by a computer wasn’t her idea of a useful afternoon.
