by Aline Ash
“That’ll be all,” X’oran snaps, allowing the young kren to escape before I charge again. He throws me into a chair and pins me down by my forearms. “S’oraj. S’oraj! Listen to me. You have to focus.” He stares into my eyes, only inches away from my face, until finally, my senses return to me and I gasp for air.
“What in the name of Oraj did I just do?” I muse.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “It’s the symptoms of separation. That said, this must be handled urgently.”
“Yes... Yes, you’re right. It’s exactly as I’ve feared all along; they’ll use B’ecky and the bond we share as leverage to control me. I believe it’s already working. I have an overwhelming urge to send our entire army after him immediately.”
“You know how that would end, Your Majesty.” The hesitancy in his voice is blatant. And I don’t blame him. I feel like I have two brains; one that’s entirely consumed by the need to rescue my mate, and the other that is looking down on that first brain from an objective standpoint and marveling at its foolishness.
“I know. I know! Drak! Let me up.” I push myself to standing and begin pacing the room. It helps somewhat. “Alright... We can’t attack. They’d obliterate us in moments. And I oughtn’t to follow her myself; that would lead me right into G’rava’s – and then Kerx’s – hands. So, what do I do?”
“Your Majesty, if I may...?”
I wave my hand to let the blasted fool speak freely. “No one knows the effects of the S’ulin Kara bond better than V’orin. I recommend we get him on a holo immediately. He’ll have a better perspective. I can offer my own, but his experience was far more severe, even than mine.”
“Fine,” I spit. “Do it.”
Moments later, V’orin appears on the table before us and X’oran fills him in while I continue shuffling back and forth in the background.
“I understand,” the commander says. “S’oraj, stop pacing and look at me.”
I stomp to a standstill and glare at his image. His expression disarms me instantly and, for a brief moment, I’m just a young one again who’d just lost his father, and he’s my best friend, my brother, trying without words to tell me that somehow it’s going to be okay.
“Now listen to me,” he continues. “In the state you’re in, it would be ridiculous to consider giving orders of any kind. The best thing for you to do is to close some of the distance and try to reduce the strain that you’re feeling.”
“Yes, yes, closer is much better,” I had to agree.
“Take a small detachment in a shuttle and get to one of Rax’s moons. It will minimize the symptoms and give you the chance to make a rescue if an opportunity presents itself. However, and I cannot stress this enough, do not do anything foolhardy. I understand all too well the pain you’re in and how cloudy it can cause your judgment to become. Do not give in to that. Stay strong, think rationally, and don’t do anything impulsively. I got lucky escaping the destruction I caused, but it was only luck that saved my – and L’isa’s, and our child’s – lives.”
I nod reluctantly, but I know he’s right. He doesn’t need any further acknowledgment than that to continue his point.
“As for our armies and strategy from here forward: your commanders already have our existing orders. I see no reason to change them. X’oran?”
“Nor do I, Your Majesty.”
“We would only show Kerx that he’s got you mentally beaten by changing our strategies at this moment,” V’orin continues. “Here’s how I see it: G’rava will take B’ecky to Kerx so that he can use her as leverage over you, just as we would have done with Fiari had he not joined us so readily. We know exactly what they’ll do, so we still have the advantage, despite your condition.
“Get to a moon and look for a chance to make a rescue. X’oran and I will look for an opportunity as well, but otherwise, and for all outward appearances, nothing will change. As long as Kerx believes that you don’t know where B’ecky’s gone, we have the upper hand.”
I inhale deeply and sigh. I know he’s right, but this pain and anxiety I feel is debilitating. I couldn’t make a rational decision right now if my life depended on it. And it likely does.
“V’orin, you’re right,” I say through gritted teeth. “I hate it, but you’re right. I’ll leave immediately and I swear, I will not make any moves that are not guaranteed to succeed. In the meantime, I need you to take command of the armies and the government. You have my full authority until this issue is resolved. Until then, I cannot even trust myself, much as I hate to admit it.”
“That is a wise and sound decision,” X’oran says quietly. He places his hand on my shoulder in a shocking outward show of care. Were I not in the state I’m in, it would seem absurd. But in this moment, it helps.
“If all goes well,” V’orin adds, “this will be over before anyone outside of this room even knows what’s happened. And certainly before Kerx has the chance to harm B’ecky in any way. We’ll get her back, my friend. I promise.”
“Thank you, V’orin.” I feel like that young one once again, holding back the tears and trying to stay strong while my friend stands beside me over my father’s body. “If only we’d already gone through with the Witnessing Ceremony... I’m sure that would make this so much easier.”
“It’s possible,” X’oran says, “but not worth wasting time thinking about. You’d better move, Your Majesty.”
“Yes. Thank you. Thank you both. V’orin, keep me apprised of what you learn and anything you think I need to know. X’oran, look for a chance to move in, but otherwise, proceed as if nothing has changed. Commander V’orin, command is yours.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Good hunting.”
His image disappears from the table. X’oran leads me down several corridors and collects a handful of krens who he knows can be trusted. Along with them and a few chests of supplies, I take off in a shuttle headed for Rax’s second moon.
I swear, B’ecky, I’m coming to get you back. And G’rava... Kerx... If you lay one finger on one hair on her head, I’ll pull you apart piece by piece and make your deaths last until the end of days. Count on it.
Chapter 17
Becky
Moments after G’rava’s ship docks with a larger Raxian warship, he hauls me up out of my seat, drool leaking down my chin around the rag that he’s kept stuffed in my mouth, and shoves me forward toward the hatch door. When it hisses open, four Raxian soldiers pile in, rifles leveled, and behind them, a short, fat, wet-looking Raxian with commander’s insignia on his uniform stomps in.
Without a word, he looks me up and down, checks something on a digital tablet that he has clipped to his belt, and then pulls out a wad of cash that I recognize as the currency of the allied planets within the Intergalactic Council’s rule. On Orean they primarily use their own currency, but I guess when selling off a human slave, G’rava wants something easier to spend than whatever Rax’s dollar would be. It’s like the Euro but for space, I find myself thinking, feeling sort of outside of my own body, watching this transaction happen from somewhere else.
“A pleasure, as always, Commander Urgan,” G’rava says snidely, counting his money.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Orean,” the fat one squeals. I can’t stop watching the little collections of white spittle at the corners of his mouth. “Our relationship is transactional, not pleasurable. Now get out of this zone or I’ll destroy your ship and call it an accident.”
“I understand, Commander,” G’rava says, strangely humbly. “But before I do, might I ask what exactly you intend to do with this Palian? She’s been a particular thorn in my side, and I would relish the opportunity to know what her fate will be.”
“That’s not for me to decide or for you to know, Orean. Her value, I understand, is far greater as a political tool than simply as another one of my slaves, much as I’d like to keep her for myself...” He slurps some of his spit back into his mouth. “Once I deliver her to King Kerx, he will decide her fate
.”
“I just bet he will,” G’rava coos close to the back of my head, shoving me forward and into the arms of the attending guards. “Give my regards to the king.”
Commander Urgan doesn’t even deign to reply, but simply turns on his heels and waddles back onto his own ship, his men following closely behind him with me in the middle being jostled and shoved along the corridor. Not another word is spoken to me as I’m chained to yet another bulkhead and flown now to the heart of Rax...
The flight doesn’t take terribly long, but this gag has been in my mouth so long that my jaw is cramped, and the front of my shirt is wet with drool. I feel disgusting, sore, tired, and more than a little terrified. But I’m still recording everything on the coms device. If I can just get a minute to myself, I can send all this directly to S’oraj along with a message. I just hope that he doesn’t let his impulses get the better of him... And that I survive long enough to send it.
The ship lands on what looks like a massive military installation on what I can tell is the planet Rax itself. All this time stuck with the Oreans, knowing that they’ve been fighting these guys, and suddenly I’m right in the heart of their homeworld... God, if only I could just blow this place up myself and call it a day!
But even as I think it, while I’m dragged off the ship and out into the glaring sunlight on the tarmac of the landing pad, I know that even if I could somehow strike a deciding blow against Rax here and now, that would only solve half of my problems. Because even if the war ends, what the hell was I going to do about S’oraj and getting home?
I don’t have much time to dwell on my own drama, though. Urgan leads us into a massive hangar where a tall, shockingly muscular Raxian meets us. His face seems like it is so unfamiliar with the notion of smiling that its frown is carved out of stone. And his eyes... There’s something behind those narrow silver slits that makes my stomach churn.
This is a truly bad man.
“Here we are, High Commander Griz,” Commander Urgan croaks. “King S’oraj’s S’ulin Kara, as promised!”
“That will be all, Commander Urgan,” the stony one says. His voice is quiet but so rich and full that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Aw, come now,” Urgan jibes. “Don’t be surly just because you have to do Fiari’s job until we find him. It’s not just everyone who can accidentally take over for a High Commander and the Prince, after all! Surely your position affords you some little pleasures... Like rewarding hard-working commanders who bring political prisoners to you...”
Faster than I can even register it, Griz’s fist is around Urgan’s fat throat and the gross little toad is gasping for air. “Taunt me again, Commander, and you will see precisely the type of pleasures my position affords me.”
As he says it, I can see his fingers tighten around Urgan’s throat, completely cutting off his ability to breathe, and in a flash, I can see exactly what those pleasures he’s referring to are. I need to get out of here fast...
After a few seconds more, he releases Urgan, who stumbles away and tries to laugh the whole thing off as a big joke. He’s just like every other greedy, spoiled, arrogant little asshole man I’ve ever known.
“Ha, ha!” he laughs through fits of coughing. “Ah, High Commander, you got me! Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” As he turns to leave with his little retinue, Griz stops the five of them with one phrase.
“Leave your men.”
“I beg your pardon?” Urgan sputters.
“I require them. Return to your post.”
“Without a guard? But what if someone attacks me? I’m a Commander, blast it!”
Griz’s voice gets even icier. “I gave you an order, Commander.”
In silence, the four armed guards gather back around me, leaving Urgan to sputter and stomp his own way out. I turn back and realize I’m face to face with the High Commander, surrounded by armed Raxian guards, and suddenly I’m not sure at all that I’ll have a chance to send this recording.
Griz pulls out a communicator – it looks more or less like a sleeker, smaller cell phone but with no screens and only a few buttons – and in seconds he’s connected.
“Your Majesty.”
“What is it, High Commander?” Oh my God. That’s King Kerx.
“I’ve collected King S’oraj’s mate. She is now in my custody. How would you like me to proceed?”
The elated gasp that comes over the line doesn’t even sound performative. The gravelly voice of the king is truly thrilled by this news. That can’t be good. “Put her in a cell and keep her there. I wish to question her myself.”
“Then you’ll be coming here, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, Griz, I’ll be coming there. And Griz...” There’s a sincere warning in his tone. “She’s to be entirely untouched when I arrive. Is that understood, High Commander?”
Griz pauses and looks me up and down in a way that makes me feel more degraded and worthless than any cat call or wandering eye of any human man ever has before replying to his king. “Of course, Your Majesty. We’ll await your arrival.”
“Good.” And with that, the communicator is shoved back into a pocket and Griz leans in close.
“Listen carefully, S’oraj’s mate,” he whispers into my face. His breath is sweet and fresh and his eyes entirely unflinching. “That order just saved you a world of pain. When he arrives, remember that and be grateful to the king for it.”
My stomach lurches and I realize all at once how out of my depth I truly am here. All I can do is nod in a terrified panic before the High Commander has me taken away by the guards and shoved into a small cell alone and away from anyone else. The hallway outside the cell is dim and deserted, but a guard is posted outside of the mechanical doors on either end. There are only two, maybe four, cells in the entire corridor, and the others are empty, so I know that this must be the place they keep high-value prisoners. Prisoners of war; like me.
When they threw me in, they at least removed my handcuffs and the gag that had been choking me for hours. I spend some time sitting on the floor, my back against the cold metal wall, massaging my jaw and trying to loosen the tension the rag had created. As I sit there, I think through everything.
Urgan had said something about Griz accidentally taking Fiari’s position. That means Fiari was a High Commander in the military as well as the Prince of this planet... And they still have no idea that he’s working with S’oraj... Oh my God—
Then it hits me. If this is the place where Fiari was posted, and he was in possession of the plans for the weapon they’ve been working on... The weapon must also be here!
All this crystalizes in my brain in seconds and I scramble up to my feet. I check down both sides of the corridor outside my cell to be sure that no one else is around, and just out of curiosity I try the door, but it’s definitely locked tight and there’s no way that I can see that I could get out of it. And even if I did, where would I go?
I hide back in the corner, gather my thoughts, and then hail S’oraj on our secret coms channel. He picks up in seconds.
“B’ecky! B’ecky, where are you? Are you alright? What happened? Beck?”
“S’oraj, stop,” I urge him quietly. “Just shut up and let me talk. I’m fine. The Raxians have me, but—”
“What? Where? I’m coming now!”
“No! S’oraj, seriously, shut up and listen to me.” He finally shuts up and listens to me. “Just... listen.” I describe everything that happened and send him the entire recording so he can see my location, the faces of the Raxians who have me, and everything. “So, you see? I’m fine right now. But King Kerx will be here soon and then I’m not sure what might happen.”
“B’ecky, I’m close by,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“When I got word that you’d been abducted, I took a small detachment and landed on Rax’s second moon. I’m there now, orbiting the planet. They have no idea we’re here, but we could get to you in—”
“Or it’s queen,” he says direly. The words knock the wind out of me, and I have to take a second to recover my senses. Did he just call me his queen? I desperately want to go into that conversation immediately, but I know we only have seconds left before it becomes too risky to keep this line open, so I just sit on the urge to question him further and listen.
“But B’ecky,” he continues, “if they do harm you... If you are hurt in any way... I cannot guarantee what actions I may be compelled to take. I’m sure you felt it, too – the bond between us is already being strained. Our bodies and souls are linked now, and if you’re hurt, the mating fever will overwhelm my senses and I very likely will do something impulsive and rash.
“I’ll do my best to wait and stay vigilant and ready, but if something does happen to you, I cannot promise that I’ll stay put.”
“I understand,” I sigh. Man, this is a lot to take in all at once. “For now, stay safe. I’ll do the same. But we’d better end this transmission now before anyone comes in here.”
“Of course. Stay safe. Be smart. I’m not far. I’ll see you soon, B’ecky.”
“Okay,” I say, ending the call. There’s so much more I want to say, but there’s just no time.
