SavageMenage

by Cynthia Sax

  Bocc pulled away, appearing as dazed as Starla felt. He swept a calloused thumb over her humming lips. “I’d kill to keep this, Little Star,” he murmured, his quiet words spoken as though they were a vow.

  Starla tucked her body under his arm, savoring his body heat, her lips humming. “I hope you don’t—”

  “Bocc!” A roar rocked the morning stillness.

  The chief, Bocc’s father, stood at the edge of the clearing, his sword in hand, his gray-highlighted hair decorated with bone and feathers. His eyes blazed molten silver. His body shook, a cloak of the richest blue billowing from his shoulders.

  He was huge and intimidating, an older version of Bocc, and Starla instinctively stepped back. Bocc moved forward, his shoulders squared. “Chief.” He jutted his chin defiantly, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword strapped to his side.

  They’ll fight each other. Starla read that realization in the faces of the conscious tribesmen, the elders grim and the women horrified. The few precious women.

  “It was me.” She pushed past Bocc to stand between them. “I gave the warriors the blockers. Ask any of the women.”

  “Little Star,” Bocc growled.

  “This is for the best,” she whispered. “There are women and children in the village who haven’t taken the blockers. I’ll be closer to them when the Balazoids attack.”

  “They’ll attack the village first.” Lines etched Bocc’s luscious lips. “You’ll be safer here. If anything happens to you—” His voice cracked with emotion.

  “Nothing will happen to me,” Starla assured her stubborn male, squelching her own fears. “The Balazoids don’t fight women, and even if they did, Chrome would protect me. Trust him to do that for you,” she pleaded. Bocc opened his mouth, vehement protest written across his face. “Trust me, love.”

  “Love?” He stared at her.

  “You’re working together, the two of you.” The chief pointed his finger at his son, his dark brows drawn together. “You will both—”

  “He had nothing to do with the blockers.” Starla took another step toward the chief. The elders shifted uneasily. “I’m a Federation operative, as is my android.” She swept her hand, indicating the motionless Chrome. “My mission is to administer the blockers to as many Lokans as possible before the Balazoids attack.”

  “There won’t be any attack.” The older warrior dismissed her warning. “Lokan hasn’t been attacked in generations.”

  “Lokan is close to Balazoid and Balazoid is at war with the Federation,” Bocc argued. “They’d never allow our planet to remain inhabited.”

  The chief’s silver eyes flickered with an emotion verging on respect. “Why aren’t you ill like all of the rest?”

  “The illness is temporary and Bocc tested the blocker on himself before allowing me to apply it to others,” Starla explained. “All of the warriors will recover.” I hope.

  The chief’s face darkened. “If they don’t, if they die—”

  Bocc extracted his sword from the sheath. “You won’t do anything.”

  “Bocc.” Starla placed one palm on Bocc’s heaving chest, stopping his advance, and she met the chief’s gaze squarely. “If a Lokan dies because of my blockers, I’ll accept any punishment you and your tribe deems fit.” Punishments of the Lokans written by the late Professor Starla Black. That would be a best-selling paper. She took a deep calming breath and released it. “To show my goodwill, my android and I will go with you and the rest of the Lokans.” She slid her gaze to Bocc. He clenched his jaw and nodded slightly. “Until your warriors recover.”

  “If you harm her, I’ll kill you,” Bocc threatened, raising his sword.

  “Chrome will protect me, mate.” Starla rested her fingertips on the flat of the razor-sharp blade, the metal cool against her skin.

  “Protect you?” the chief harrumphed, raising his eyebrows.

  “My android won’t allow anyone to touch me,” she clarified. “His maker, a highly intelligent, exceptionally handsome male, built him to guard me.” She smiled at Bocc. He didn’t smile back, his face dark and his features harsh. “Chrome is an extremely skilled warrior. He can kill a man easily with his bare hands.”

  One of the elders made a strangled noise and the gray-haired crowd around the chief shuffled restlessly.

  “Come Chrome. We should go.” Starla dropped her hands, entangling her fingers with Bocc’s, not wanting to let go. Will I ever see him again? She gazed into his warm silver eyes, memorizing his face.

  Bocc’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply. “Once the warriors recover, I’m coming for you.” He squeezed her hand, his grip reassuringly rough and secure.

  Starla squeezed back. “I’m counting on it, mate.” She released Bocc’s hand and turned from him, blinking back the threatening tears and hiding her distress. “Come, Chrome. We should get to the village before the Balazoids attack.”

  A woman whimpered. I frightened her with my flippant words. Starla stomped down the most indirect path leading to the village, in no rush to be locked in a dark, windowless hut. Her android strode soundlessly behind her. The elders stepped aside as she passed, careful not to touch her, and then followed, whispering words she wasn’t meant to hear.

  She walked and walked and walked along the winding route. No one talked to her, all of the elders ignoring her presence. Why do I care? Starla pushed away a low-hanging vine, the blue leaves broad and flat. A week ago, everyone ignored me. Has Bocc changed me so much?

  Yes.

  “It’s your fault, you know.” Starla glanced over her shoulder, squinting in the fading light. Chrome stared upward, his particular pose mirrored by the chief and his men, their expressions horrified.

  Starla followed their line of sight. Sweet study. Her stomach twisted. A massive starship covered the sky above them, blocking the sun. “They’re here!” She ran toward the village, her leather boots slapping on the hard ground, thorny vegetation scratching her bare legs.

  She burst out of the forest and Lokans turned their heads, their silver eyes huge in their tanned faces. Toddlers clutched their mothers’ legs. Women cradled their babies. Three boys took turns throwing rocks at the starship. Men leaned against thatched-roof huts, swords in their hands.

  There are so many of them. Starla swallowed her dismay, uncertain of what to do.

  “Everyone head to the caves,” the chief boomed from directly behind her and Starla started. “To the caves.” He waved his hands.

  Lokans rushed to the right, echoing the call to action. Women scooped up children. The elderly hobbled, their twisted branch canes poking the packed dirt.

  “Trew.” The chief slapped a gray-bearded warrior’s shoulders. “I’m trusting you to lead our people. Take them deep. We’ll find you when we’ve defeated our enemy.” The big man grunted and lumbered ahead, coaxing his tribesmen forward.

  When we’ve defeated our enemy. The chief’s confidence infected Starla. “Everyone should go to the caves. Without the blockers, the Balazoids will render you immobile.”

  “Fetch the hooks!” the chief ordered and men ran. “We’re warriors. We’ll fight.”

  Light blazed down on them as the docking bays on the starship opened. The pain in Starla’s stomach intensified. Transfer vessels filled with Balazoid soldiers entered the sky. Their stark black leather outfits contrasted vividly against their pale faces and tentacle hair. There are so many of them. “You’ll die.”

  “Not before my son’s warriors arrive.” The chief easily caught the hook thrown to him by another warrior, a long, twisted tail of twine attached to the molded metal. “Here.” He passed it to Starla. “Have your machine throw this onto a ship as it passes.”

  “Using the planet’s energized core to destroy it. Clever.” Starla handed Chrome the hook. “I see where Bocc gets his intelligence.”

  The chief grunted as he took another hook and the corners of his lips curled upward. “This was my wife’s idea before…before…” His good humor vanished, hi
s face growing dour once more. “I’ll show your machine how.”

  He swung the hook by the twine, the metal whizzing through the air in larger and larger circles. A transfer vessel passed, the Balazoids watching them with their red demon eyes, and Bocc’s father lobbed the hook upward.

  The hook clattered inside the small ship. Sparks flew. Balazoids yelled. The ship skidded along the ground, collided with a stone hut and exploded.

  “One down.” Starla wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell of burning flesh. “Chrome.”

  Chrome downed another vessel. Starla’s rising hopes were doused as a Balazoid warship flew toward them. “Chrome!” He barreled into her and they rolled. The Balazoids fired. The ground shook. The heat singed her hair. The air around them rippled and the spacecrafts around them careened into the ground.

  “What happened?” Starla staggered to her feet, Chrome standing protectively close.

  More warships fired. Women screamed. Lokans ran. Starla’s legs tingled, the ground radiating energy, and vessels fell from the sky. The Balazoids shouted and some of the vessels retreated. The firing stopped.

  “The planet protects us.” The chief grinned, his face smeared with dirt.

  We need more protection. Balazoid warriors jumped from their transfer vessels, curved swords in their pale hands. “What is Bocc waiting for?”

  “The Balazoid Destroyer 378 remains out of range.” Chrome swung his sword, removing a Balazoid’s head, the red blood spraying over the ground.

  “It’s lowering steadily.” Starla grabbed the Balazoid’s weapon, the metal surprisingly light. “It’ll be in range soon.”

  “Soon,” Chrome agreed. A Balazoid warrior approached, blood trickling from his nose. Her android placed his big body in front of Starla and she gritted her teeth with frustration. Around her, men fought and she did nothing.

  The chief stumbled to her left and a Balazoid blade sliced through his thigh. “By the gods!” he roared. “Make the humming stop.” He hacked his sword through the enemy’s neck almost mindlessly.

  “The Balazoids are in your mind,” Starla shouted, dropping her useless sword. “We only have seconds of fight left.” She reached around Chrome’s torso, opened his chest cavity and grabbed a handful of blockers. “Cover me, Chrome.” She flung herself toward the chief and rolled as she landed, swords striking the ground around her.

  “No!” Chrome bellowed, running to protect her.

  Keep moving, Starla. She dodged Balazoids. Get to the chief. Her heart pounded, death surrounding her.

  “Chief!” she warned the red-faced warrior. She leapt onto his shoulders and jabbed the blocker into his thick neck, pushing the liquid into his vein. The chief bellowed in outrage. He shook her from his shoulders, tossing her back.

  Starla landed with a loud oomph, the impact softened by a Balazoid corpse. She blinked at the madness before her, the fighting happening as though in slow motion. Strange. The much-touted Balazoid warriors fought as poorly as the suffering Lokans. Blood dripped from their nostrils and ears, the crimson startling against their pale skin.

  “I’ll protect you!” Chrome sprinted toward her, swinging his sword, his handsome face covered with grime.

  “I don’t need protecting.” Starla grinned up at him, her vision blurred and her head aching. “No one will harm me, because I’m invisible. I’ve always been invisible. That’s why everyone else always ignores me. Only you and Bocc have ever been able to truly see me.” She frowned. Bocc. She shook her head and some of the fog cleared, her rational thought returning. “We must save his people, Chrome.” She pushed herself up, using the dead Balazoid’s sword.

  “I’ll protect you,” Chrome repeated, his tone flat as he fought the bungling Balazoids.

  They stood back to back, Starla guarding his rear. The Balazoids circled them, their pale faces grotesque with blood.

  One warrior lunged forward and Starla swung her sword. As she grazed the attacker’s throat and blood gushed from his wound, she pressed her lips together to subdue her whimper of distress.

  For Bocc’s people. She struck the hapless soldier again, slicing deeper, and he fell, his legs kicking. For Bocc. She fought nausea, bile burning her throat and tears stinging her eyes.

  Another Balazoid approached. Starla sobbed as she cut him down, taking one more life. Blood oozed over the hilt of her sword, the warmth coating her fingers. Her arm ached.

  An eerie hum radiated from the starship. “Baktot’s balls.” She uttered Bocc’s favorite profanity. A thud followed as Lokans collapsed, their bodies limp.

  “Not lifeless. Unconscious,” she muttered, reminding herself. “We’re in big trouble now, Chrome.”

  “We…fight,” the chief huffed, his face flushed and his eyes glassy. He lumbered toward them, fending off the inept Balazoids with each step. “Together.” He bumped his shoulder against hers.

  “Do not touch her,” Chrome growled.

  “Not now, Chrome.” Starla shuffled slightly to the right. “We fight.” She grinned at the chief, feigning a bravery she didn’t feel. “Too bad Bocc isn’t here. I hear he’s a fierce warrior.”

  “Both of my sons are fierce warriors.” A trickle of sweat ran down the chief’s red cheek. “But I love them too much to wish them here.”

  “It is better this way, I suppose.” Starla gazed at the hordes of Balazoids surrounding them. I wish I could tell Bocc his father loved him. She pushed away that regret and raised her sword, prepared to fight to her death.

  * * * * *

  Bocc looked along the mortar’s sights. Still too high. The massive planet-killing Balazoid craft lowered slowly but remained out of range.

  He turned his head toward the village. Small spacecrafts hovered over the village…what was left of it. They no longer fired upon his people.

  Upon my mate.

  Bocc ground his teeth, regretting his decision to let her leave his side. I must protect her.

  “What happened to her?” Tukbar staggered toward him, Minarb in his arms.

  Finally, he awakens. “What did I do to her, you mean?”

  “Don’t be a baktot’s behind, brother,” Tukbar snapped. “I know you wouldn’t harm a female. I…” His hoarse voice drifted off as he tilted his head up. “By the gods, the enemy is here!”

  “They attack the village.” Bocc nodded curtly. “As your warriors recover, I’ll send them to defend it.” In the hope they’ll save my mate.

  “The Balazoids.” Tukbar gazed down at Minarb, his face crumpling with a level of sorrow Bocc had never seen. “They’ve killed her, my love, my mate.” He fell to his knees, cradling the young woman.

  Bocc crouched near them, pressing his fingers against her neck. “She lives. Feel her warmth.” He waved his palm over her lips, her breath wafting on his skin. “She’s unconscious. Once we destroy the big ship, she’ll recover.” I hope.

  “Then destroy it!” Tukbar gazed at him with panicked eyes. “What are you waiting for?”

  “It’s out of range, you fool.” Bocc straightened, angry with himself for not creating a better weapon. “My mate is in the village.” His voice cracked, his violent emotions uncontrollable. “Do you think I’m waiting here, leaving her unprotected, for nothing?”

  “I don’t wish to leave Minarb unprotected either,” his brother confessed as he gently laid the woman on the ground.

  “And I don’t wish to remain here.” Bocc narrowed his eyes. “You’ve used the weapon before. It’s armed. It’s aimed. Press here.” He indicated the button. “When the ship comes into range.” Soon. He strapped another sword to his torso and daggers to his thighs, leather holding the weapons in place.

  “You’d give me the glory of saving all of Lokan?” Tukbar’s mouth dropped open.

  “Glory is meaningless if my mate dies.” Bocc slapped his brother’s shoulder. “I’m trusting you with our lives. Don’t let us down, brother.”

  Bocc sprinted along the shortest path to the village, the terrain rocky, the hills
steep. He moved faster than he’d ever moved before. His lungs ached. His legs burned. Perspiration streamed down his wide forehead.

  I’m coming for you, mate. Stay alive. Vines ripped at his skin, their sharp thorns digging into his flesh. Chrome will protect her. Father, the chief, will protect his people.

  He smelled the smoke first, followed by the metallic scent of death. Not her death. Bocc inhaled, yearning desperately for Starla’s sweet fragrance.

  He broke through the coverage of the forest, running into a horrific chaos. Bodies, Lokan and Balazoid, warriors, women and children were scattered over the dirt streets. Fires burned.

  Metal clanged against metal. Little Star. Bocc picked his way through the bodies, relieved to see most of the Lokans breathed, their chests rising and falling.

  A breeze swept through the village and the smoke cleared, revealing two dark forms, both male, their swords engaged in a lightning-fast volley of strikes and blocks. A large male sprawled on the ground. A smaller form crouched by his side.

  My mate.

  He smelled her fear and her exhaustion. He smelled her. Bocc ran, leaping over bodies, his booted feet sliding on the spilled blood. He extracted both of his swords, curving his fingers around their hilts.

  The smaller Balazoid warrior grimaced, tentacles swaying, as he fought the bigger android. Chrome glared at him, his face twisted in simulated rage, his movements calculated and smooth. Perfection.

  “Bocc!” Starla called out, her look of relief heartbreaking. “You came.”

  She lives. “I said I’d come, didn’t I?” His voice lowered gruffly as he examined her for injury, leaving Chrome to fight the Balazoid. “You’re unharmed.”

  “Yes.” She stared at him, her exotic brown eyes wide.

  Bocc tore his gaze away to study the man at her feet. “The chief.” His father writhed in agony, blood covering his skin.

  “The blocker allowed your father to fight longer but now…” She waved her hands over the elderly warrior’s red face.

  A loud crack ended the clanging and Chrome’s mechanical head bounced on the ground. Baktot’s balls. Bocc pivoted on his heels and raised his swords.