Alien Caged

by Tracy St. John

  The prisoner shook his head, a sob escaping. The bite should have had him floating in a happily inebriated state, but terror could negate those effects for a few seconds. Walker trembled violently.

  Zemos pressed his advantage, cupping Joseph’s chin in his palm so he was forced to look at him. Lowering his voice to a silky purr, the Dramok asked, “Do we explore this ‘blasphemy’ of yours? Would you like to be touched?”

  Want suffused his features, but Walker managed to shake his head. “Don’t. Please, Captain Zemos.”

  “Then tell me, how long have you known Earth’s leader Browning Copeland was alive?”

  The intoxicant was gaining ground again, helped along by Walker’s obviously growing arousal. His eyes glazing over, he whispered, “About two years ago. That’s when I got a message from the battlecruiser Sword of Truth. The Holy Leader was on board, gathering his flock to him once more.”

  “How many ships have joined him?”

  Clarity fought for a place in Walker’s senses. He blinked hard as if to regain control over himself, his head slowly shaking again.

  Almon slipped a hand around his body, ending by cupping Joseph’s ass. The Earther jerked, freeing his head from Zemos’ grip to stare up at the warrior.

  Almon grinned. “As you can no doubt feel, I also prefer men to women. I have had my eye on you, Joseph, ever since you helped me. I have no problem with making you very uncomfortable if you do not answer Captain Zemos.”

  Walker’s face paled. Desire battled with fear as he stared at Almon.

  Zemos didn’t try to regain the Earther’s undivided attention. Instead, he whispered in Walker’s ear, “How many ships has Holy Leader Copeland got under his command?”

  His gaze still riveted on Almon’s face, Joseph murmured, “One hundred forty-two.”

  “All battlecruisers?”

  “Only fifty-eight are cruisers. The rest are couriers and transport barges, but they’ve been outfitted for fighting.”

  “Who is the Basma?”

  Walker blinked. He tore his stare from Almon’s to meet Zemos’. “I don’t know.”

  Almon’s hand slid from behind Walker, moving over his hip towards the Earther’s avid crotch. Walker struggled as fear once more tore him from euphoria’s clutches. He yelled at Zemos, “I swear to you, I don’t know! The Basma has delivered some funding to the Holy Leader though, as well as given us locations where we can find and capture your ships and crews. He passed along the information that gave us your weaknesses.”

  At Zemos’ nod, Almon stopped antagonizing the Earther, leaving his hand only an inch from touching Joseph’s sex. “When you capture Kalquorians, do you always deliver your prisoners to Bi’is?”

  Walker drew a shuddering breath. “This was the first time I received such an order. I was told to take you to a research station within the Bi’is kingdom’s borders. They would pay us. A share would go to keeping this ship operational, and the rest was to be paid to the Holy Leader and the Basma.”

  “Where is the last known location of Copeland’s ship?”

  Walker battled to keep himself strong. Zemos could see the fight in his tensed body and tightness of his jaw. “No.”

  Zemos decided the time had come to get ugly again. “Tell me, or I’ll give you to Almon here as his pet. If he gets bored with you, he has my permission to give you to the next man who fancies your ass.”

  Walker stared up at the leering Nobek who was only an inch from having his hand on his dick. Euphoria crept over his expression once more, and Zemos wondered if he’d made a mistake with the threat.

  Abruptly, the Earther captain sagged in his tormentor’s arms, his expression defeated. Joseph looked at Zemos, all the fight gone. “The last fix I got on Browning Copeland was in Joshadan space, near the border with Dantovon. That was three weeks ago.”

  Oret spoke up. “Where were you to meet him after you made your delivery to Bi’is?”

  “I wasn’t to receive coordinates until I’d made it back into Kalquorian territory. Only then was I to contact him.”

  “The contact frequency?”

  “It’s encoded in my personal computer in my quarters in such a way to keep me from seeing the frequency myself.”

  Oret scowled. “They must have secured a direct link. It can be decoded if we could get to that computer,” he told Zemos.

  Zemos wanted one more thing from his hostage. “Who on board this ship should we be most concerned with, Joseph? Who poses the greatest threat to us?”

  “First Officer Chase and Lieutenant Commander Robards. They’re both fanatical zealots who hold true to Earth’s religion and the Holy Leader.” Walker snickered, now completely under the influence of the bite. “Plus, they love being in charge. That’s a power-hungry pair, all right. With me out of the way, I wonder how long it will take before they’re at each other’s throats?”

  Zemos drew up, satisfied that Walker had given them all he could. “All right, Joseph. You’ve been most forthcoming.” He cocked an eyebrow at the Nobek who looked more than happy to be holding the Earther. “Sorry, Almon, but you’ll have to leave it at guarding him. No punishment required.”

  The Nobek frowned. “Perhaps I could encourage him to explore his needs, Captain?”

  Almon must really have been infatuated with Joseph to push the issue. Zemos told him, “I’m afraid not, especially with my Matara here to witness such. I’m not sure how she would take it. She’s quite sensitive about these things, as most Earthers are.”

  “A pity.”

  Almon released Walker and stepped back. The Earther captain looked at him, his hand rising towards the Nobek for an instant as if to draw him back. Then he lowered his arm as he seemed to recover enough of his faculties to remember he shouldn’t be doing such. However, Joseph continued to stare at Almon with fascination and want.

  Still feeling that unwanted sympathy for the Earther, Zemos turned and walked away, Oret on his heels. He told his Nobek, “He didn’t give us a lot more than we already knew, but at least we now have some idea of Copeland’s location.”

  Oret added, “We also have the means to get even closer to him if we could get to that computer.”

  Zemos looked around, wondering where Miragin and Elisa were. His Imdiko must have taken her somewhere private, to keep her from seeing any unpleasantness that might have arisen from the interrogation.

  Zemos motioned his crew to come close for their next orders. As he waited for them to assemble, he told Oret, “While getting hold of Walker’s computer would be nice, our immediate concern is to be rescued and not go to Bi’is as research specimens.”

  “Fucking Bi’is,” Oret growled. His expression turned thunderous at the mention of the species they’d had so many problems with in the past. “These allegations of their duplicity with the Basma could put us at odds with their kingdom once more. We’re not ready for another war, not so soon after fighting Earth.”

  Zemos sighed, feeling all his responsibilities settle on him like a crushing weight. “One catastrophe at a time, my Nobek. That’s all this old space jockey can handle.”

  Oret snorted and patted his back in sympathy.

  Chapter 18

  “We’re not getting out of here alive, are we?” Elisa asked.

  She was curled in Miragin’s arms, sitting in the cradle created by his legs which he’d folded in a yoga lotus pose. His back leaned against a wall of storage bins. They had some measure of privacy behind the large containers. The partition created something of a large room area. It was a perfect place to stay out of the way of the Kalquorian crew while keeping tabs on anything that might happen.

  “The odds do seem daunting, don’t they?” Miragin sighed, tossing his tangle of hair back to show his handsome face. “As one who loves his life, I say never give up. At the same time, I acknowledge that every breath could be my last, so I wish to make each moment as noteworthy as possible.”

  Elisa gave him a wan smile. “In that case, I’ve wasted a lo
t of time. I think I’ve drifted through my existence, afraid to truly live for the fear of dying.”

  Miragin hugged her tight. “You’ve lived under tyranny and disappointment for too long. I would see the rest of your time reaching for dreams and enjoying what is there with all your being.”

  “I’ve missed so many chances. Maybe it’s too late.”

  One of the Imdiko’s hands spanked her hip with tender remonstration. His tone disapproving, he told her, “Naughty girl, it’s never too late. As long as you draw breath and have one single hope to realize, you must do it. Success is not winning every race, Elisa.”

  “What is it then?”

  “It’s never giving up, even when you can’t hope to finish.”

  She considered his words and felt the merit in them. With a real grin, she said, “No wonder you are known as the Conscience of Kalquor.”

  Miragin snorted and rolled his eyes. “I hate that label. Oret calls me that when he wants to irritate me.”

  Elisa blinked in surprise. “It’s an honor to be known as such, isn’t it?”

  “It is, but it’s also a ridiculous ideal that others expect me to live up to.” He chuckled. “Usually I don’t have great thoughts. Most of the time, I wouldn’t even call them good. For the most part all I want is a good night’s sleep, something to eat, and someone to fuck.”

  Elisa laughed at that. “Just the basics, right?”

  Miragin shook his head, as if amused with the whole idea of being famous and looked up to. “Once in awhile I have a good idea. After careful consideration to make sure it’s a good idea, I share it. Usually I have stupid ideas, and after careful consideration, I keep my mouth shut.”

  “You’re way ahead of most people I know then. Everyone I know has to share every thought, no matter how ludicrous it is. Being quiet might be the sign of a great mind after all.” Miragin’s grin lit his face. “That’s the only reason people think I’m so evolved. If the Empire knew half the crap that flies through my brain, they’d fling me off that pedestal they put me on.”

  Elisa considered him. She found it astounding that someone like Miragin considered himself so mundane. “You don’t think you’re anything special?”

  “No more than any other man.”

  She strained up to plant a kiss on his lips. “I think you’re very special.”

  He looked at her with such warmth that her stomach flipflopped. He said, “It’s funny you should say so. That’s what I was thinking about you. Maybe you should be venerated instead of me.”

  She assumed a superior expression. “Maybe I should. Elisa Mackenzie – The Voice of Your Dietary Needs. Bow to my spatula, oh hungry peasants.”

  They laughed over the silliness. That was followed by kissing and snuggling. After a few moments of delightful cuddling, Elisa said, “There. You can be proud of me because I’m enjoying this moment with all my being.”

  Miragin kissed her again and said, “Me too. This is definitely what I call living.”

  * * * *

  Oret was already raring to go despite having arrived only an hour ago. Fighting and grabbing Walker as a hostage had Zemos’ Nobek jacked up. Barely able to stand still, he said, “Let me track down the two officers who have taken control of the ship. If we cut the head off the beast, it dies. We can force Walker’s surrender then.”

  Zemos considered his clanmate’s idea against the one he’d come up with. In the end, he shook his head at Oret. “Normally I’d agree with you, but there is no way to know for sure where Chase and Robards are. The computers are offline, so you can’t track them. No, we need to go after an entity that we know the location of and can keep this ship inoperable for as long as possible.”

  Oret grasped his target immediately. Apparently it was one he approved of, because he grinned. “The engines?”

  Zemos did not share his delight. “I see no other way, though that section is now swarming with Earthers.”

  “The engines themselves are in a separate area from the controls in main engineering.”

  “They are only one room over. You’re going to have to be very careful, my Nobek.” The danger was tremendous, which was why Oret was so excited with the idea. Zemos felt he had to caution his zealous security head.

  Oret winked at him, letting the Dramok know he understood his concerns. “I’m glad you’re not ordering me to send someone else.”

  Zemos chuckled and shook his head. “You’d never forgive it, my Nobek.”

  Oret checked his blaster’s power gauge. “I’ll go right away.”

  “No, not yet. A little time should help activity in that area die down a bit.”

  That earned him a mutinous scowl. “It will also give them an opportunity to make this ship operational again.”

  Zemos put a steadying hand on Oret’s shoulder. With such a task before him, his clanmate was as eager as a youngling. Zemos cautioned him, “Even if they get the computers running once more, they won’t have time to take us out of Empire space. Besides, I want you to say goodbye to Elisa.”

  He put special emphasis in the command. Oret tensed. His enthusiasm dimmed almost immediately, though he showed no other reaction to his Dramok and captain’s words. Zemos sensed the momentary struggle within the Nobek before Oret snapped a very official-looking nod.

  “As you wish, my Dramok.”

  With that, Oret turned away and walked with careful, controlled steps towards the cargo bins, behind which Miragin and Elisa rested. The Nobek walked with a grim face, like a man heading for his execution.

  Zemos watched him go, biting his lips together to contain the amusement that wanted to burst forth in laughter. When he was sure he wouldn’t lose control of the humor, he whispered under his breath, “Just be yourself with her, my Nobek.”

  It wasn’t kind to find Oret’s reaction funny. Yet Zemos couldn’t help it. Oret was a fierce creature, capable of facing death without flinching. How could Zemos not laugh when the Nobek’s feelings for their little Earther made such a brave man tremble inside?

  * * * *

  Miragin looked over Elisa’s head and smiled, alerting her that they were not alone. She twisted in his lap to see Oret approaching, walking behind the long line of cargo bins to their isolated corner. He walked slowly, his manner tense despite the tight, answering smile he exchanged for theirs.

  He stopped a few feet away. The Nobek appeared in a way Elisa had never seen him: uncertain. He shifted uncomfortably. “I believe I am interrupting. My apologies.”

  Oret took a step back, as if he would leave them with no explanation of why he’d come. Miragin rose, bringing Elisa to her feet as well.

  The Imdiko gave Oret a cheerful expression. “Not at all. We were only laughing at how simple a man I am.”

  Oret grimaced. “The surface Miragin is quiet and easy to understand. It is in the depths where things get complicated. You are quite deep, my Imdiko.”

  Elisa saw the regard the proud warrior held for his clanmate. It was also sweet to see how Miragin colored under the compliment. He said, “Thank you, Oret.”

  The Nobek’s gaze flicked to Elisa. With a sense of resignation, he addressed Miragin once more. “If I may have a few moments with Elisa? Perhaps you can make sure we are not disturbed?”

  “Of course.” Miragin paused to kiss Elisa’s cheek. As he did so, he whispered very low, “Be gentle with him, my Matara. Oret is not used to sentimentality.”

  With that bizarre directive, the Imdiko walked away from her. He teasingly nudged Oret as he walked by his bigger clanmate. The Nobek scowled and watched as Miragin went to the end of the crates and turned the corner, disappearing from Elisa’s sight.

  She wondered what was going on. She thought perhaps the intention was that she would have sex with Oret now, that they were being given time alone to enjoy each other until the next crisis arrived.

  Miragin’s words repeated in her ear. Elisa was to be gentle with Oret? This big, bruising, brooding Nobek? It made little sense to her that
she would have to be careful with him.

  Oret turned back to regard her. His face managed that tight smile again, the one that told Elisa how ill at ease he was. He approached her slowly, as if she was someone to be cautious with rather than a woman with whom he could give himself with abandon.

  Good heavens, the man wasn’t afraid of helpless little Elisa Mackenzie, was he?

  As he drew closer, she recalled Miragin’s other statement. Oret is not used to sentimentality. Maybe it wasn’t a fear of her physically then. Maybe he wasn’t used to displaying his feelings.

  Somehow, that made the warrior precious to Elisa. To see the fierce Nobek Oret act clumsy with her because he felt desire and affection was endearing. It also made Elisa feel pity for him. She thought it sad that he couldn’t express his heart without fearing his strength would be compromised.

  I can do it for him. I can emote enough for both of us, and he doesn’t have to feel less a man for it.

  Elisa went those last few steps to him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, offering her lips for a kiss. She was confident that Oret would at least be comfortable with passion, and she was right. He pulled her close, and his mouth found hers. She opened for his tongue, tasting and being tasted with thoroughness that had them both breathing heavily when they broke apart a minute later.

  Oret sat on the floor much as Miragin had, pulling her onto his lap. He studied her face as if memorizing it. She did the same. They sat without speaking, simply looking at what fate had granted them for perhaps an impossibly short duration: each other.

  Elisa traced the lines on the Nobek’s granite features, memorizing his beloved face with sight and touch. His gaze softened as she did so, as if the beast within gentled at her touch. When he lowered to kiss her again, it was with a hesitant softness that made Elisa feel cherished.

  He loves me. He doesn’t have to say it because I feel it with every bit of my soul.

  The kiss was slow and penetrating, as if Oret poured everything he feared saying into this one act of desire. His tongue stroked the whole of her mouth, twining with serpentine suppleness around hers. Elisa had never realized it was possible to make love with a kiss alone, but Oret proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.