Snatched by the Alien Dragon

by Stella Cassy

  Gee, that’s what I get for trying to help. I mean, it was a bit selfish on my part too. I figured, if I can prove myself helpful, I might get some perks, like a little bit of extra freedom. And if I had a little bit of extra freedom, maybe I could make a break for it, and somehow get back to Earth. I hadn’t figured out the details yet, but I was going to. That was the plan.

  “But Ty— Master, wouldn’t a never-ending flow of revenue from—”

  “Silence!” he bellowed, his voice echoing up the walls, seeming to bounce higher and higher before disappearing into the cathedral-height roof.

  Chastened, and somewhat afraid, I closed my mouth tightly shut. This plan wasn’t working. It was a good plan, but the problem was that the person I was trying to use it on was just too stupid.

  At first, I’d wondered how Tytrik even had his position at the bank. That was soon answered when I found out that it was founded by his great-grandfather. Luckily for Minniku National Holdings, Tytrik was one of the more junior great-grandchildren, but he still had a job that he in no way had the smarts for.

  After taking a step or two backwards, I gave him a sullen look. “I was only trying to help.”

  You’d think I called his mother a whore and him a fucking idiot, but apparently a slave talking out of turn is just as bad.

  He swung at me. An open-handed slap. That had never happened to me on Earth, but if it had, I would have liked to have seen the size of the legal-hole my father would have ripped in any bastard who tried.

  But here there was no Dad, no law, and no protection. Here if your master slaps you, there’s no recourse. No one to complain to. No police to report him to. No courts to take them to.

  The only right I had was the right to carry on breathing — until my owner decided to take it away.

  Just before the slap connected with my face, I ducked. You’re not supposed to do that. If your master wants to slap you, then you get slapped. That’s just the way it is.

  “Don’t move!” His voice had become a loud shriek, quivering with anger. I was, once again, impressed with the way my language chip provided such a clear translation of not just the words, but the emotion behind them. And in this case, the emotion was: pissed.

  Carefully, I stood up, locking eyes with him. He wasn’t the only one who was pissed.

  Slowly, he raised his hand again. I was definitely, definitely supposed to stand there and take it this time.

  He swung, his hand making a swish through the air.

  Fuck this.

  I ducked again, and this time when his hand whistled over my head, I sprung back to my feet, and whipped my own hand toward his head, connecting with a magnificent slap that echoed just as high up the chamber as his yell.

  “Outrageous!”

  I felt pretty pleased with myself for all of about two seconds. The thrill of my minor victory wore off when the full realization of how much crap I was in now weighed down on me.

  He grabbed me by the elbow so hard I thought he was going to crush it like a vice. I wasn’t going anywhere now. Tytrik swung at me with his free hand, and I used my own free hand to try and fend him off.

  Like two sorority girls fighting, we descended into a mutual slap-off as he held me in place with one hand, while the other kept trying to smack me around the head and I tried to knock his hand away.

  “Gikho!” he screamed after his sixth attempt to land a proper slap on me.

  About the time of his seventh attempt his assistant hurried into the room, the excited yell being enough to make him move as fast as he could.

  Tytrik released my arm and shoved me hard in the stomach, sending me flying backward and crashing onto the white floor with a thud.

  Suddenly I no longer thought the white rock with its pink veins was beautiful. I hit it so hard I immediately began to hate it. Just like everything else on this planet.

  “Get her out of here!”

  Winded, bruised, but with the little shred of dignity I’d arrived with that morning mostly still intact, I let Gikho half-drag, half-march me out of the bank and off back home — to the living quarters on the other side of the large building.

  Gikho was Tytrik’s assistant, and like him, was a tall, blue-skinned Nortian. He was even dumber than Tytrik as far as I could tell, but since he rarely spoke there hadn’t been many opportunities for me to assess quite how dumb he was. He didn’t say a word as he marched me back home.

  And by home, I mean my slave quarters. And by my slave quarters I mean our slave quarters. What, you think they gave me my own room?

  I suppose it was my own foolish fault. I should’ve stuck with the original plan. When I first realized that I had actually been kidnapped, by aliens, I decided to play dumb. It was something my father had taught me; he called it my secret weapon.

  If you’re a pretty little rich girl, people always underestimate your intelligence. People always assume that since you’ve been spoiled your whole life, your brain is as empty as a regular person’s bank account. So they underestimate you.

  It was with that in mind that when I was first kidnapped, I played as dumb as can be.

  It happened just I had returned to our little mountain lodge, high in the Rockies in Colorado. We kept a little eight bedroom cabin on twenty acres or so there. The rest of the family hadn’t arrived yet. Mom and Dad were still at the condo in Miami, while my sister was doing her thing in Tokyo. In fact, the only person around was the groundskeeper, and he didn’t even live on the premises, returning to his home nearby each night.

  That was why it was so easy for them to kidnap me. I was busy enjoying the solitude, sitting in what we had nicknamed the startub. It was a large hot tub on top of a flat roof on the second bedroom wing of the cabin. If you turned off the lighting, and stared up above, you had the most perfect, uninterrupted view of trillions of stars. I’d often stared up at them, wondering what exactly was out there. Dad had talked about space tourism a few times, but he hadn’t yet bit the bullet and gone up to the International Space Station himself. I knew he would though, I think he was just waiting until they improved the amenities up there first. He did not like slumming it —nor did any of us in the family.

  So there I was, letting the water jets ease my aching muscles as I luxuriated in the tub, staring up at the sky, wondering what was really out there.

  Then I found out.

  I saw the ship coming. If I’d known what it was, I could’ve got away. If I’d run inside, locked the doors, and headed to the panic room, they never would have caught me. But I didn’t.

  At first, I thought the approaching Pax spaceship was a shooting star. Then I thought it was a plane. Then I thought it was some kind of silent military helicopter, something experimental and hush-hush.

  Then, when it was hovering right above me, and I could see that it was definitely not a helicopter, I didn’t know what to think.

  I put the glass of champagne down next to me, and stood up in the tub, one hand against my brow as I peered up at the vehicle that was now hovering above me. My other arm covered my bare breasts, suddenly self-conscious that soldiers might be peering down at me. I hadn’t bothered putting on a swimming costume since I was the only person in miles.

  Maybe there are hot military guys up there looking at me, I thought. Slowly I lowered my arm. Might as well give them a show. I’d never dated a military guy — Dad would definitely not approve.

  The floating vehicle came lower and lower, and then there was a big flash of light. I passed out.

  When I came to, everything had changed. Life as I knew it was over.

  When I woke up, I was in a white room with four strange fairy creatures staring at me. Later I would learn that they were the cursed Pax. I’ve never hated a whole species before, but thanks to them, I now do. Back on Earth I wasn’t exactly big on genocide, but now I could honestly see its merits — but only for the Pax.

  My head felt like I’d drunk a bottle of whisky and wrapped my brain in sandpaper. I was too cold, shivering,
my skin covered in goosebumps, my bare nipples hard. One of the awful creatures reached over and squeezed my breast, earning an immediate slap from me before I hugged my arms over my chest protectively, glaring at them.

  They sedated me again almost immediately, and next time I woke up it was with a collar around my neck, in a cage at the slave auction.

  It turned out that humans were very much in demand, and I earned the highest fee of the day. This was in no way any consolation from being ripped away from a life of happy luxury, transported out into the ’verse with its violence, slavery, and unending intergalactic war.

  It was Tytrik who bought me, using the more than ample funds of Minniku National Holdings. It wasn’t even his own money. Technically I was a slave of the bank, not of the man I called master. Not that I pointed that out to him. I’d had one too many prods from the electrified discipline stick by then.

  After an embarrassing naked walk from the slave auction to the bank, that was that. Life as I had known it was over, and a new, crap one had begun

  Once I’d had my translation chip implanted and worked out what was going on, my father’s words kept ringing in my mind. Let them underestimate you. Let them think you’re a spoiled, dumb little rich girl — and then, bam! Sock it to ‘em!

  So that’s what I started to do. I acted slow. I pretended not to understand how to complete simple tasks. I was pretty much the worst cleaner you’ve ever seen — though that wasn’t all an act; I’ve never had to clean anything bigger than my desk in my life.

  But it didn’t work. Not really. I never saw any benefit from hiding my intelligence. They were still careful to make sure we were all locked in at night. The collars never came off. They made sure we were always where we were supposed to be. They had a system, and they stuck to it. Being dumb didn’t help.

  So that’s why I had recently decided to change it up, try and show them that I could be useful beyond my physical ability to clean or move things around. I thought if I earned them some money, I may become trusted, and then I might be able to figure out a way to escape.

  But it looked like that hadn’t worked either.

  “You are to clean the kitchens. Thoroughly. There must be no grease, stains, soot, or any other hint of uncleanliness. Top to bottom, left to right, inside and outside of every drawer, cupboard, and oven, understand?”

  I glowered as I examined the room. It was a large kitchen, and it had been weeks since it was given a thorough cleaning. Last time we had done it, there’d been six of us. And that had been hard work. This time it was just me.

  The chef looked at me sympathetically but didn’t say anything. He’d be pleased to have his kitchen made spick and span.

  Like the rest of the giant bank building, it was built with the beautiful pink veined white stone that all of the wealthiest merchants and bankers on Minapolis favored. In this kitchen, though, it didn’t gleam and sparkle like it did elsewhere. In here it was a faded, dull, grayish off-white. The tiny pink rivers barely visible. In the kitchen, even the walls needed a good scrubbing.

  Maybe I wasn’t so smart after all.

  “I understand.” I had to spell it out to Gikho, and once I had, he slowly turned and walked away back to Tytrik.

  Once I’d been left alone, I got to work. I didn’t have a choice. I had of course experimented with not doing as I was told or doing a poor job. I could still feel it on my skin where I’d been jabbed with the discipline stick. Despite the lack of pay and crap conditions, they still expected us to do our work well.

  I wet a rag, applied some cleaning solution, and started rubbing at the nearest wall. At first it was kind of satisfying, seeing the soot come off and the beautiful stone revealed underneath. But then I glanced around and saw how big the place was. This was going to take forever.

  In my time playing dumb I learned one thing though. It wasn’t much, but I hoped it would be something. I knew where they kept the keys to my collar. My hand rose up and fingered the hated piece of metal around my neck. It was cold to the touch. It always was. I could just about get my fingers beneath the metal between my neck and the inside of it. But there was no give, no chance of pulling it apart. You needed the keys.

  And I knew where they kept them.

  Now I just needed to figure out how to steal a spaceship and learn to fly it. Then I’d have to uncover where Earth was in relation to this prison of a planet. It was a pretty big to-do list.

  Still, baby steps, I thought as I scrubbed furiously, taking out my anger on the stained rock.

  I was going to get out of here, and if I happened to kill Tytrik or any of his other family members along the way, well that was just too bad.

  Scrub, scrub, scrub.

  3

  Rethryn

  Rethryn

  After the insolence we had suffered at the space port, I was in no mood for anyone or anything else to test me. My crew and I made quite the spectacle as we walked down the thoroughfares of Minapolis, swinging our caudals and spreading our wings to show that we were not to be messed with as we marched.

  I walked ahead of my crew, wings stretched out to my side, daring anyone not to jump out the way. My dragon was growling and snarling, itching to be released to set flame to the planet.

  The six members of my crew followed behind me, each of them with almost as much pride and poise as me. The locals turned and whispered or hid as we passed. Our reputation preceded us, or perhaps it was just our fearsome appearance.

  We were heading to Minniku National Holdings. According to the details provided to me in my mission brief, they were the most likely to provide us with the funds that were required for our rebuilding efforts.

  Minapolis was an awful place. Every person or building that we passed seemed to be concerned with some way of making money. There were no hot springs, no whispering trails of smoke from sleeping volcanoes, no hint of ash or sulfur in the air. And warriors? Those with courage and cruelty flowing in their blood? Almost entirely absent. It was a planet for cowards and weaklings, servants and slaves. If not literal slaves, then slaves to money or slaves to business.

  “Please, do you have any spare coin?”

  The voice came from an immature alien of less than knee height. I neither knew, nor wanted to know what species it was. It could even have been some kind of deformed Pax I supposed.

  Using my caudal, I swept away the annoyance, sending it back into the gutter where it came from.

  “...please...”

  The pathetic voice faded as we continued our stately progress through the city.

  The whole place seemed to be built of this awful white and pink stone. It was nothing like the dark, volcanic rocks of home. While there was no doubt a geological explanation for the wrong-colored rock, the knowledge that this existed did nothing to lighten the uncomfortableness it instilled in me.

  Rock should be black or gray. Ashy or even a deep burgundy. Perhaps with little glittering crystals or pieces of salt, but nothing more. Not this bright, almost shiny substance.

  A growl rumbled within me as I saw our target. Minniku National Holdings was a grand, towering building built atop a hill, and was constructed of the same hideous stone. This was only one of several offices they possessed, but it was the most impressive of them.

  In front of the building was a long, wide flight of steps, leading up to a pair of double doors wide enough to walk through with wings fully outstretched. Big enough, even, that a shifted dragon could stalk through if he were so inclined.

  As I walked up the steps with my entourage behind me, I could see the eyes of the Nortian guard at the top bulge in astonishment. This quenched my burning irritation somewhat. A Drakon, especially a Hielsrane, always expects — no, demands — to be treated with respect. And respect is earned through fear. The lanky but weak-limbed Nortian guard at the top of the stairs certainly seemed to be fearful.

  “Gr—greetings.”

  At the top of the flight of stairs I halted, staring at the stick-like alien, wa
iting for more. If I had breathed at him he would have swayed like a blade of grass.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “We do not need an appointment.”

  “R- right. If you could give me a name, I’ll let you know as soon as a manager is available. We have a comfortable waiting room inside.”

  “We do not wish to wait,” I said so softly the threat underneath was barely there.

  The security guard did not respond to that. Idly I considered tearing him apart for his insolence. No doubt it was caused by his own lack of authority in the matter. But the fact he had no authority was also his fault. We all have the position in life that we have earned. And if you earn a position that gets you torn asunder by an angry Drakon prince, then it’s on your shoulders.

  “Please, follow me.”

  Obligingly, we followed. I would give him a chance. But if I became unsatisfied, he would not know it for long. I flexed my talons as I stalked behind him. Even without shifting I could shred him.

  We entered through the massive double doors, and I stretched my wings as we did so, sending some other customers ducking or swerving out the way while they stared wild-eyed at me.

  Some of them had never seen a Drakon before. Others never expected to see a Drakon again.

  Inside, despite the strange coloring of the walls, the shape of the interior was pleasing to me. The main chamber of the bank was a vast, open area with a ceiling high enough that a shifted dragon would need several flaps to reach the top. The room was big enough that one could indeed fly around if desired. I could only think of one reason to want to fly around in there though and I half-hoped it would happen.

  Stopping to look up above, an exciting thought crossed my mind. What would it be like to soar up to that ceiling, and then dive down, unleashing the angry fire-breath of a dragon prince on the world below?

  “Sir, this way.”

  We crossed the entire width of the chamber and were led to a private waiting room. Inside there were sofas enough for me and my crew to all sit.