Had the tragedy occurred on another world, I’d have taken in those who escaped death, greeted them by saying, “Thanks be to the gods for your survival.”
But I didn’t thank the gods for my own survival. I cursed them. Cursed them for taking all those innocent souls, cursed them for allowing our world to be destroyed. Cursed them most of all for leaving me alive.
The images haunted me, awake or asleep. They’d been sent back by the vessels we sent speeding to Arythios as soon as we lost contact with our world. Unmanned vessels, traveling at a speed our life form could not withstand, carrying defensive weapons, along with search-and-rescue ships bearing emergency supplies.
We never deployed the defense weapons. The enemy was long gone. As for the other ships, they searched every inch of our world. But there was no one left to rescue.
They sent back pictures of our thriving cities destroyed, only ghostly shells of collapsed buildings remaining, with no signs of life. Once-majestic forests reduced to skeletons, their blackened branches piercing a sky filled with smoke. Our beautiful purple ocean now gray, with carcasses of fish and other marine life rotting on its shores.
We never returned.
Calling a conclave of the remaining Arythian forces at the solport, I announced my decision.
“Our loved ones are gone. Our families, our friends, our rulers—all slaughtered. Our beautiful world lies in ruins,” I began. “Fellow warriors, we are all that remain. No matter how hard we fight, we can never bring them back. But we can seek justice.” My voice rose. “I propose we form two squadrons. I will lead one, tracking down the evil creatures who murdered our people and destroyed our world.” I looked out over the pitifully small sea of gray faces, some lined with grief, others twisted in rage. My warriors. All that remained of the formidable armies of Arythios.
The fate of our race lay on their shoulders. Theirs…and mine. My troops looked to me for leadership, yet I was as crippled by anger and sorrow as they were.
From somewhere deep inside, I summoned up strength I never knew I possessed. “They showed no mercy, and they will get none in return. When we find them, I vow we will wreak vengeance upon their heads,” I shouted. “Who will fight with me?”
The Great Hall of the solport shook at the thunderous response. “I will!” they cried as one.
I knew they would. To a man, they hungered for blood. But I needed warriors for the other squadron, one more vital to our ultimate survival. I had to make it sound equally appealing.
“Mantsk, you will remain here as captain of the solport. For now, it is the only home we have. I leave it in the capable hands of you and your crew. I know you will guard it well.”
“Arythios is no more,” I continued. “But if our race is to go on, we need a new home. I’ve chosen Commander Joran to lead the other squadron on a reconnaissance mission to find a new world where, one day, Arythians may once again dwell in peace and harmony. It is a perilous mission, exploring unknown, uninhabited worlds to find one compatible with our life force. His band of warriors will face dangers we cannot even imagine.”
I scanned the faces before me, meeting their eyes one by one.
“I need volunteers for this mission.”
My heart swelled with pride as they stepped forward. So many that we ended up drawing names to decide who would join me and who would go with Joran. I included Mantsk’s crew in the drawing, so that no man would be left out. We’d rotate the warriors in both missions, using the solport as a place to rest and recharge.
I assembled my officers. We made our plans, reaching out to the alien worlds in Vector Six, who had banded together to form an Interstellar Federation. They ignored our requests for help or sanctuary—except for the leader of a minor planet called Earth. I thought their rejection was foolish as well as short-sided. Our enemy could strike in their vector next. We all stood a better chance of defeating them if we became allies.
The single offer we received was an insult. Rather than pledging military aid or granting us a safe haven, the Terran leader offered to send us females from his world. “As a gesture of our goodwill, to see to the needs of your crew,” he said.
Our world was gone and his idea of help was to send us females to fuck? My first impulse was to tell him he and his human whores could go to the seventh moon of Sinela. Goodwill had nothing to do with it. He was trying to save his planet from being invaded - by us. As an unknown race, to the Terrans we were probably as big a threat as the enemy who destroyed our planet.
But I swallowed my fury long enough to let reason prevail. Every Arythian female was dead. My warriors and I were the last of our race. We didn’t need sex partners. There were plenty of pleasure palaces whirling through the cosmos, all of them staffed with sterile females happy to satisfy the most depraved desires of any alien with riches to offer in trade.
But we did need females who could bear our young. Without breeders, our race would die with us. Captive females, even unattractive pasty-white humans, would do for a start. One day, perhaps we would come upon a world with colorful females we found more appealing.
So here I was, deep inside the solport in a bay that had been pressed into service as a holding station for rows of semi-dormant human bodies. As admiral, commander of what remained of the greatest fleet of starships in our vector, I was the highest ranking Arythian alive. Like it or not, duty required me to choose one of these females as a mate. Impregnate her quickly and see to all her needs as well as the needs of the offspring I sired, upholding the responsibilities of a male of my species. Then do it over and over again. To save our race from extinction.
I heard a gasp and looked down…into a pair of deep-blue eyes. One of the females had finally awakened, and she was staring right at me.
“Who be you? Me where?”
Though her grammar and pronunciation were atrocious, I understood her. Thank the gods at least her pathetic leader had done one thing right. The translation device he’d fitted all of them with seemed to be working. She came equipped with a rudimentary knowledge of Arythian. According to the information the Terran leader sent, the longer the females were exposed to our language, the more their ability to communicate with us would improve.
“I am Admiral Dylos, commander of the Arythian Starfleet. You are on our solport. We are currently traveling through Vector Six of the galaxy.”
Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up, but a force field had been engaged to hold her and the others in place while they slept.
“Oh my god! I’ve gotta get out of here. You…you’re a fucking alien!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crew member who’d been tending to the captives drift closer. No doubt his account of my first encounter with the human would be all over the solport as soon as his shift ended. Even if I’d been alone, I could not allow any female, especially one destined to become an Arythian mate, to speak to me with such disrespect. Clearly, these aliens had not been educated in proper etiquette before being shipped to us, let alone their place as slaves.
My world did not condone ownership of any sentient being by another. But my world was gone. We’d need to take into account the differences between our standards and beliefs and theirs if we were to coexist, even mate, with the aliens. Apparently, Terrans were savages, not yet fully evolved. They lacked not only social skills but common decency. We’d need to train them. Quickly.
“It’s clear you have never learned how to properly address beings from another world upon first contact. You belong to us now. Therefore you—and the other whores your leader gave us—will address me and every Arythian male you see as Master,” I replied sternly.
Her eyes flashed. “Fuck you! I’m not a whore, and I don’t belong to anybody.”
I snapped. Did the first thing that came into my mind. If she was going to act like an uncivilized being, I needed to treat her as one. I waved a hand, disengaging the force field momentarily, and flipped her onto her stomach. Then I brought my palm down on the pale-white c
heeks of her ass. Hard.
She let out a shriek that echoed through the holding bay.
“You monster! Let me go!”
I smacked her again. “You will address me as Master, not monster.”
She began struggling, but the field rendered her immobile, which only increased her rage.
“Like hell I will! I didn’t endure six weeks of prison to end up as some alien’s whore!” She finished with a string of words I had no translation for. I assumed they were not complimentary.
“Silence!” I gave her two more harsh whacks, which blessedly took her breath away. “Your screeching is unpleasant to the ear. You will use a softer tone of voice when you speak.”
She let loose with another tirade, but I barely registered it. My attention was fixed on her backside. Specifically the twin mounds of her ass.
The pasty-white flesh bore a perfect imprint of my hand—in a rosy shade of pink. Intrigued, I smacked her again, a little lower this time.
Sure enough, her skin responded immediately, turning a deeper shade of red where my handprints overlapped.
My cock sprang to attention. I wondered what other colors she’d exhibit—and where. Unlike the others, she showed a spark of fire, which bode well for producing offspring capable of becoming mighty warriors. Training this wild savage would present a challenge, one I welcomed. I needed something to occupy the long empty hours when I wasn’t on duty. Hours spent in grief and regret. The alien would never be as good a mate as an Arythian female, but I no longer had that choice. If I had to impregnate her, I could at least train her to obey, teach her how to properly please me.
“I’ll take this one,” I announced. “Have her washed and sent to my quarters.”
The crewman’s eyes were glued to her glowing bottom. “Shall I put her clothes back on after washing her?”
“No. I want her naked.”
Apparently, the device translating my words to her language was working just fine. I strode out of the room, with a barrage of brand new curses ringing in my ears.
Chapter Three
Trina
I’d escaped one nightmare only to awaken to a far worse one. At least my last imprisonment had been on Earth where a hope of escape existed. But my rescue had been as big a sham as our chancellor’s marriage. Vector Six? Solport? I searched my brain for a clue to what all the terms he’d thrown at me meant, but my history and sociology degree and admin job offered me little information beyond the basics.
And the room they’d ushered me into after leaving the mansion was anything but a rocket ship. They’d handed me over to a bunch of pale-skinned men in white jackets who had, in turn, escorted me into another chamber, and, before I knew it…I was here. In a solport in Vector Six—which sounded very far from Earth—naked, bottom stinging, and about to be washed and taken to someone’s chamber.
Sounded a lot like an old movie I watched once, where the girl was kidnapped by a desert tribe and presented to their sheik as a gift, tribute…a sex slave. Holy shit. That was exactly what was going on here, wasn’t it?
I backed away from the tech-type guy—they were the same everywhere, apparently—thin, pale, and squinty eyes from too much tech-type activity—waving my hands. My curses had fallen on deaf ears, so I tried a new tack.
“So, there’s clearly a mistake here. I was supposed to be on a diplomatic mission.” All around me lay other women, in a state of unconsciousness like I must have just been in. “And I’m not sure about the rest of them, but I would like to be shown to my quarters and given access to communications so I can contact Earth and get this straightened out.” Calm…sound calm and maybe they’d believe it. But my stomach churned and my head whirled.
The tech merely clicked a device in my direction, and I sank to the floor, still naked, still stinging, and now adding a level of humiliation I’d never thought to experience. He bent and scooped me up then laid me back on the empty table before reaching up and hauling down some sort of hose. The bastard was humming under his breath, and if I’d had any ability to use my arms, legs, or even my mouth, I’d have taken action. But instead, I just lay there while he moved the nozzle over my naked, vulnerable body and continued to hum in an eerie series of sharp and flat notes that made my teeth ache.
Finally, he let go of the hose, and it retracted into the ceiling. Still humming, he pushed a series of buttons on the table, and it moved toward the door through which Admiral whatever-his-name-was had disappeared. We traveled down a corridor, dark ahead and behind us but lit where we passed. Energy savings I supposed, and my table, with me wishing I could hold on to something, slid into a square box. When the tech stood next to me again, it moved upward and then came to a smooth stop.
My eyes worked fine, even if I couldn’t turn my head, and I flicked my gaze from right to left to take in as much of the environment as I could. Smooth walls behind which pulsed color, almost like a more subtle version of what a nightclub might have. Even the floors were colorful, changing under us as we moved. What an odd spaceship. Because that was what this was, right? A spaceship…or was a solport something else?
I’d had friends in school who wanted nothing but to fly to the stars, but I’d never been one of those space aficionados. No, I’d been very satisfied to spend my life on planet Earth, and while it hadn’t been much of a life, going from my cubicle at work to my not-much-bigger living unit at home. Spending evenings with friends or alone watching vids and reading… Not exciting. But it was mine, and instead, I’d somehow come to the attention of Chancellor Ravensworth who’d decided to bring me into his games with his wife.
When…if I ever got back, I’d spare no effort to see them pay. Even if it cost me my life.
The table stopped, and so did the humming. Thank God. A section of the wall in front of us dissolved, and I glided inside. As I lay there, the muted, colorful light from the corridor cut off leaving me in the dark.
And still unable to move.
Terror rose, along with my gorge, and I choked on bile, trying not to suffocate, and unable to do a damn thing about it.
I didn’t die. Somehow, I pulled it together enough to relax, stop struggling, and let the bile burn its way back down my throat, leaving a sour, bitter taste. If I was going to survive this, I had to stop panicking and losing control. I couldn’t see any way to make it home, but it was early days yet.
So, I did the only thing possible. I lay still and tried to absorb my surroundings. It was dark. And quiet. So that made vision and hearing fairly useless, for the time being. And my sense of touch gave me only the hard surface beneath me. A little cooler than I preferred, as was the air temperature, but not terrible. And taste…the sourness abated, but otherwise, that sense had no other data to provide.
Smell. The sense I’d thought the least about in my life offered my brain the only data available under the circumstances. Unlike the dungeon/storeroom where I’d last been imprisoned, this room had no lingering odor of mildew or decaying fabrics. It smelled clean, as if someone had used some sort of chemical to cleanse either the compartment itself or maybe the air I inhaled. But atop that, a faint scent of spice. One I could not quite identify, like a combination of sweet and hot spices. Cinnamon and chili? Not exactly. Add in a little nutmeg and cardamom, maybe.
Unique.
Not of this world. Or rather, of the world from which I came. A single tear spilled and slid down my cheek to puddle in my ear. It itched. Damn. I tried to blink, only to realize I couldn’t even do that. This was a whole new level of torture.
Then light spilled over me, and everything came into focus.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long, female.” His face loomed over me, a grayish tone to the skin, stern cast to his features. “Alas, my duties are many and varied, and impregnating you could not take first place.”
I screamed inside. This met and exceeded the horrors of the ancient alien-invasion movies currently popular on Terra
He circled my table, eyeing me with clinical detachm
ent. “You’re small. I have voiced the concern that our young may split you asunder before they reach birthing size, but there’s no help for it, I suppose. Your leaders are not going to trade for some full-sized females.” He peered at my face and cupped my chin, prying open my mouth. “Good teeth. That bodes well for our young, even if they might not be the size we would wish.”
The bastard! Anger roiled up, and I’d never wanted anything so much as to spit in his face. I wanted to tell him that I hoped I would split asunder before his hideous implanted offspring could grow in my womb.
“I suppose we can only hope that our own superior genetics will prevail.” For the first time, his demeanor held a hint of humor as he released my face and lifted a lock of my hair between his fingers then wrapped it around his fist. “As of course, it will.” He gave a tug.
I whimpered, on the inside, since whatever held me bound prevented even that much sound.
“Now, let’s get to business. I will fuck you; you will give birth to my young and care for them. I ask nothing more of you and will accept nothing less.”
Lucky I was already speechless. The arrogance!
“If you agree to this and to behave, I will release the force fields and you may participate in our mating. If not, things may become problematic after a while. I have lessened them enough for you to state your consent.”
I didn’t know what he meant, exactly. That it would be problematic to rape me while held in place by a force field? Or that perhaps I would eventually starve like this? Dehydrate? I could see no advantage to remaining thus…and saw no sin in lying to anyone who would rape and enslave me. So I cleared my throat and forced out the words, “I agree.”
He stared at me, waiting, and struggled to think why…
Centauri Captives Books 1-3: A Dark Sci-Fi Romance Page 8
