The Warlord's Pet

by Loki Renard

  “It’s not bad,” she wailed as she dissolved into tears, her sentences becoming utterly incoherent. “I just never thought that you… I thought you hated… I thought… and then when you say it…”

  “Shhhh.” He pulled her close. “I should say it more. I forget, sometimes, to say it, because I feel it every time I look at you. And…” He paused for a moment. “I’ve never had cause to say it before.”

  “You’ve never loved anyone before?”

  Alistair shook his head. “I’ve cared for. I’ve lusted. I’ve liked, but this is something different. I’d do anything for you.”

  Tears were still brimming in her eyes, but even in her heightened emotional state she wondered if this revelation showed some kind of weakening on his part. “You’d do anything? Like take the collar off?”

  “That wouldn’t be good for you, pet,” he said, running his hand tenderly over her cheek. “You know that. You don’t really want it either.” He lowered his voice and looked deep into her eyes. “Do you want me to take that collar off your neck, pet? Would you be freed by its absence? Or would you miss it immediately?”

  She squirmed as she realized she could not lie, looking into his eyes, one dark, one light, both somehow absolutely piercing.

  “I would miss it,” she admitted softly. She lowered her eyes as she realized just how important it had become to her. In the beginning it had been nothing but a symbol of Alistair’s tyranny and of her humiliation. Now it marked their bond.

  “I love you too,” she said, lifting her gaze to his, blinking back tears of joy as in that quiet moment, under the glowing sunset she made no secret of her feelings for him. He drew her into his arms and they embraced tightly, murmuring soft words of love and care to one another over and over as day faded into night.

  The spent that night in a field camp beneath the stars, Celeste curled up with her head resting on Alistair’s chest. The only thing between them and the universe was a single blanket, which was more than enough to keep them warm.

  In the distance, a rhythmic pounding began to echo through the night.

  Celeste lifted her head and looked down at Alistair with a little confused frown on her face. “What’s that?”

  “Some of the villages use drums to communicate. It’s an ancient technology, but it’s effective, especially for the most remote unpowered outposts.”

  “So those are people talking to each other?”

  “Mhm,” he nodded. “Sounds like they’re planning a hunt.”

  It was a brutal thing, but Celeste understood that Vector Prime was a simple place. Her more privileged home planet did not allow hunting, but then again, the only large native mammals still alive were in zoos. There were no open plains or wild places; every livable bit of land had been converted to civilization, glowing towers linked by spiral chains of conductive fiber. It was shiny and complex, but dead in a way she’d never understood until coming into the wilds and seeing what life was. It was dirt and sweat and hot breezes that raked across her skin, and cooler nights and dew gathering on metal surfaces.

  Alistair’s hand drifted lightly along her back from the top of her shoulders to the curve of her bottom, a soothing touch that helped her relax into a deep, restful, and thoroughly contented sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  The idyllic days could not last forever. Thirty days after Alistair retrieved Celeste from the asteroid, the faint but consistent sense of foreboding that he had been pushing to the edges of his consciousness came rushing in with an announcement from a comms officer.

  “Sir,” the young man said. “The governor has made contact. He is on screen in the comms unit.”

  “Took him long enough,” Alistair remarked. It had taken much longer than he had expected. The peace, which he had always known was not true peace, had lasted long enough. He was ready to deal with whatever the nasty little man had to throw at him, to settle the matter once and for all.

  As the officer had said, the governor was on the main screen when Alistair arrived in the comms room.

  On a screen several feet wide, the governor looked angry and weasely. He was wearing his finest robes, gleaming gold, which only served to make him look smaller and uglier. It made Alistair ponder how bold raiment could elevate a strong man but make a mockery of the weak.

  “Hello, Cyril,” he said, using the man’s name and not his title. He was certainly no longer the governor of Vector Prime, or any person on it.

  “I give you one warning, Alistair. Return my daughter to me and abdicate your command. This is the only way to avoid an invasion.”

  No time for pleasantries then. The spineless wretch thought he had the upper hand.

  “You want her back so you can blow her up at a later, more convenient date? I do not think so, Governor. Your daughter is mine. She has chosen me.”

  “Then she will die with you.”

  The screen went blank and a moment later, alarm bells rang. One of the officers turned from his instruments with an announcement that made Alistair’s stomach clench.

  “Sir! A fleet of warships just decloaked less than one lightyear from our star. Their weapons are charged and they are approaching at full speed.”

  “What insignia do they bear? Which general sends his forces against us?”

  The officer’s face was pale. “All of them, sir.”

  “So he has unleashed every dog in his pack on us,” Alistair nodded. “Very well.”

  “Shall I deploy the initial defenses?”

  “Not yet,” Alistair said. “Hold all stations at readiness, but do not deploy so much as a drone. Wait for my command.”

  He saw fear clear in the soldier’s eyes. There could be no doubt that this was a peril unlike any Vector Prime had faced before. Thousands of lives hung in the balance, and Alistair could not risk panicking and responding out of fear. A more considered response was required.

  “The clock is set, sir,” the soldier said. “We have a hundred minutes until contact.”

  * * *

  Alistair went directly to Celeste. Ordinarily, going to a woman when war was on the verge of breaking out would not have been Alistair’s first move, but Celeste was no ordinary woman. She was the most important thing in his world—and the only chance anyone on Vector Prime had of getting out of this thing unscathed.

  She was lying on the bed with her head resting on her hands, gazing out across the plains as she loved to do. Her bright smile as he came into the room chased his concerns away for a moment. Celeste had become radiant. The longer they were together, the more beautiful she was to him. At that very second, lying mostly on the bed and mostly naked besides her collar and the lightest scrap of silk fabric, she was the most gorgeous creature in the universe, her eyes bright blue, her long hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back. He would do everything and anything it took to keep her safe, and ensure she never fell back into her father’s clutches.

  Her face fell as she looked into his eyes. “What is wrong, Alistair?”

  She could read him unerringly, so much so that it was unsettling. The many hours he’d spent training her had made her attuned to him in ways no person had ever been, and he was certain nobody ever would be. He wished there was a way to show her how much he prized her, but there was no time for grand gestures in that moment. A thousand weapons were soon to be pointed at the planet, sufficient firepower to disintegrate the outer layer and leave Vector Prime a dead husk.

  He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. Her answering smile was guarded as she sensed the weight of events. Alistair sank down on the bed next to her and let a tendril of her hair slide through his fingertips.

  “Do you recall the first day we met?”

  She turned on her side and looked up at him, a little smile playing across her lips. “How could I possibly forget it?”

  “You were wearing a dress.”

  “Yes…” She narrowed her eyes with suspicious confusion. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not talking ab
out my fashion right now? What’s wrong, Alistair?”

  “I stripped you of it and I took you to my chambers,” he said. “You remember that, I think. What happened next…”

  “Mhm…”

  He was stalling telling her, and there wasn’t time for it. He forced himself to tell her what he’d kept a secret from the beginning.

  “Within the hour, your dress exploded.”

  “Exploded? You mean, your men blew my dress up?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It had been laced with explosive charges and was detonated remotely. Fortunately, our cells are resistant to pressure waves and nobody was harmed.”

  Celeste’s eyes widened. “What…”

  “Your father tried to sacrifice you,” Alistair said. “Perhaps in hopes of harming me, certainly in hopes of destroying you.”

  “He put explosives in my dress? My father tried to kill me!?” She pushed up from the bed and came to stand in front of him, her hands on her hips, her face a mask of confusion, fear, and betrayal. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “You would not have believed me at the beginning, and later, it seemed cruel to.”

  “So my father not only left me to die, he tried to kill me too.”

  Alistair nodded. “I’m telling you this now, because we are in danger. We had a conversation that day. You told me your father’s armies would come for me. I told you that would never happen.”

  “Yes…”

  “You were right.”

  In a strange way he was pleased to see a frown of concern establish itself on her face. His biggest fear, more than the fear of the armies orbiting the planet, was the fear that Celeste might be glad to see them. Perhaps, given the opportunity to escape, she might very well flee him again. Her father was a villain, but she had not known that, and there had been the very real risk she would not believe the man who held her captive. Seeing that she was taking him seriously, the clenching hand of cold fear that had held his heart in an icy grasp released slightly.

  “They have come for me?”

  “They have come to declare war on me,” he said. “And you… are to be sacrificed.”

  Celeste’s eyes narrowed to two thin slits. “I want to talk to him,” she said. “My father. You must have talked to him. I want to talk to him right now.”

  “I don’t think it will help, and there isn’t time. The attack has already begun. In just over an hour, a fleet of destroyers will ring this planet. We will be surrounded,” he said. “My armies are strong, but they cannot defeat the might of twelve armies combined, and to try would be to send my men to certain death. This war will not be won with aggression. If we are to survive this, we will need to put on a display of a different kind of strength. I will need you, Celeste.”

  He waited with bated breath to see what her response would be. After all they had been through, this was the defining moment that would decide both their fates. If she rejected him now, all was lost.

  She looked up at him under her lashes, a small smile playing across her lips. There was something almost eager about her expression, as if she welcomed the challenge of the combined armies.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Alistair pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. “You have come such a long way, my pet. What I am going to ask of you now is more than I have ever asked of you. I will not force it. You will have to give it of your own free will. Submission. Total submission. Not just in my eyes, but before the eyes of all the worlds in our System. Can you do that?”

  Her smile became uncertain as she answered him honestly. “Maybe?”

  It would have to do.

  * * *

  Celeste’s loyalty and ability to obey was only part of the equation. Alistair needed to address the generals too. Having prepared his pet, he returned to the comms bay and ordered that contact be made with the heads of the fleet. In very short order, twelve faces filled the screen. He had known these men for a long time, fought alongside most of them at one point or another. Several of them owed him their lives. None of them looked particularly eager about the attack on Vector Prime, but Alistair knew they would carry it out if he could not convince them otherwise.

  “Brothers,” he said, opening his arms in an expansive gesture. “Before you do what you have come here to do, grant me one last opportunity of hospitality. If Vector Prime is to be put to flame and sword, one may as well enjoy its fruits one last time.”

  “You will not draw us into an ambush so easily, Alistair.”

  “No ambush,” Alistair replied. “A diplomatic salvo.”

  “You are not known for diplomacy,” Kash spoke. He was the oldest and most decorated of all the generals and his word held more weight than most.

  “But I am known for enjoyable gatherings and beautiful women,” Alistair pointed out. “If you are going to follow the governor’s orders, those will be no more. Will you not experience one last celebration? Give a man a warrior’s end?”

  He could see almost all twelve men shifting uncomfortably. He was pleased to see that reaction. It confirmed what he had suspected—if he could give them a good reason not to follow their orders, they would take it.

  “I give you my word, you will not be harmed,” Alistair declared. “Vector Prime welcomes you.”

  “We have our orders, Alistair…”

  “Then fire now and get it over with, or come down, fill your bellies, empty your balls, and then carry out your orders if you are so inclined.”

  “We will not waver.”

  “Hear me out before you make that final decision. My transporter frequencies are open. I welcome any of you who will come and look the man you have been sent to kill in the eye before you bring the ax down upon his neck.”

  With that, Alistair terminated the conference. This was the fulcrum upon which the fortunes of many planets would sway. If the generals decided to eliminate Vector Prime, it would be over swiftly. If they did not… nothing would ever be the same.

  * * *

  Kash was the first to appear in the transporter room. “I hope you have a plan, Alistair,” he growled. “This is a nasty business. The governor will have our heads if we don’t take yours.”

  “Will he?” Alistair smiled, unconcerned. “Come, Kash, we will drink to the dawn of the last day.”

  “Don’t forget us, brother!”

  Eleven more generals stood in the transporter bay behind Alistair and Kash. It seemed that the decision to take him up on his invitation had been a universal one. Alistair laughed and gestured for them to join him in the grand arena. It was an indoor meeting space much like the amphitheater, a little smaller, but still more than large enough to entertain his guests.

  “Our final feast,” he said, gesturing to the expansive gathering. “The bounty of Vector Prime is yours, gentlemen.”

  The generals did not need much encouragement. They scattered into the room, where pleasure pets engaged them in conversation, danced for their pleasure, and began to seduce them.

  Alistair sipped a little wine, but otherwise abstained from revelry as the generals sated thirst and lust alike. The pets knew how to please men and musicians strolled between couches and cushions, serenading the lovers and revelers. It was a precious sight, a singular event and he drank it all in, though it was empty for the lack of his own lover.

  Before they could become too intoxicated, when they were at the right level of relaxation but still had their senses about them, Alistair called the generals to him again.

  “You have come here on the words of a weak man,” he said, his voice full with dominant vigor. “You have been driven here by fear and lies. Have I not fought alongside each and every one of you in battle? Are we not brothers in blood? Why would you believe the lies of a man who doesn’t know which end of a gun fires the bullets?”

  His lips were twisted into arrogant disdain. He showed a complete lack of fear though there was no doubt that the men standing before him had come with the idea of killing him, and i
f they so desired, they could strike him down where he stood. They were fully armed, as was he.

  “I have already bested the governor,” Alistair declared. “This is a last, desperate stand, one he does not dare take himself. Gentlemen, you have stepped into the shoes and taken the mantle of a coward. I urge you to renounce his name and reserve your loyalty.”

  The generals looked skeptical, as he had known they would be. Their voices rose with questions.

  “What power do you have that the governor does not?”

  “What victory have you claimed over him?”

  They were playing into Alistair’s plan perfectly. He smiled as he made his reply. “You would like proof of my victory? Come!”

  Adjoining the grand arena, a much smaller area had been prepared. It was empty aside from a circular cage mounted at the center of a round plinth. It was a display containing one of the rarest prizes in the universe, and certainly the most precious to him—Celeste. Naked and collared.

  His breath stopped for a moment as he laid eyes on her beautiful form. If his plan did not work, she would be at the mercy of the rough men who laid siege to his planet. Her eyes met his and for a moment they locked gazes, affirming the silent pact they had made.

  “Gentlemen,” he said as the generals began to enter. “You know the governor’s daughter.”

  She rose to her feet, meeting the stares of the generals as they filed into the room with a clear, unconcerned gaze. Alistair was very proud of her in that moment. All her training was about to come into play in the most crucial way possible. She seemed calm, composed, graceful, but he wondered how long that composure would last once it became clear that a display of her conquered state would be necessary.

  “Celeste?” Kash said her name, which was echoed on the tongues of many other men. They had seen her before of course, but not like this. Not naked. Not wearing a long teal tail in her bottom, not with her nipples clamped with a golden chain between the two pink nubs, not with her neck encircled with a silver collar bearing Alistair’s initials.