Veredian Chronicles Box Set

by Regine Abel

  Mama and I no longer shared a room. After Amalia’s birth, Master Gruuk moved me to the old playroom my sisters and I used to share. At five years old, my daughter was too restless and active for the three of us to share a small room. I would prop up our cots against the wall to maximize the space for Amalia to run and jump around. As a Warrior breed, my little hellion bubbled with excess amounts of energy. Dauntless, curious, and bold, Amalia and I had little in common. She didn’t even look like me. Had I not pushed her out of my body into this world, I’d think she was in fact Mama’s daughter. They were identical, both physically and mentally.

  With a sigh, I turned off the particle shower and grabbed a clean slave dress. I put it on while stepping out of the fresher, expecting to see Amalia dangling on one of the short ladders of her playground, crawling through one of the many openings or using the slide.

  She was nowhere to be found.

  My head jerked towards the door. The green light on the locking mechanism indicated its disabled state.

  But I locked it! Oh Goddess!

  My knees felt weak and my pulse picked up. I always locked the door before entering the shower, especially if I left my baby unsupervised because of her habit of escaping and wandering.

  Who unlocked it? Why?

  I ran to the door, willing it to slide open faster, then raced to my mother’s room. It stood unlocked and empty.

  Of course, she’s not here, stupid!

  I remembered she had surgeries to perform, hence Amalia playing unsupervised. Anyway, Mama would never take Amalia without informing me first. The crew wouldn’t dare break into my room without Gruuk’s consent. We might be slaves, but we were also Gruuk’s treasured pets. That could only mean he’d sent them. Could he already have a buyer for my baby?

  She’s still too young! She doesn’t have her ability yet!

  I’d been pushing from my mind any thought of Amalia getting her power. Unless Master Gruuk could make use of it, he would sell her, like he had my sisters. It wouldn’t matter to him that I’d been a loyal slave all these years. If he could profit from a deal, he would do it, regardless.

  Cold dread washed over me.

  My heart pounded in my throat as I darted through the hallway and erupted into the mess hall where countless surprised stares greeted me. Heedless of the crew’s catcalls, my eyes flicked around the room, looking for the reddish-brown mess of my baby’s hair before racing back out. Hanging on to a last hope that this was simply another case of Amalia running away, I headed to the crew deck, the only other place she could have gone. My daughter loved the large windows that gave her the impression she could fall into space by merely leaning against them.

  As I turned the corner into the hall leading to the deck, I saw Amalia’s little bum wiggle its way into one of the air vents at the base of the wall. The painful tension in my shoulders and the heavy weight on my chest lessened as relief overwhelmed me.

  How in the Goddess’s name did she open it?

  Everything on board required a code or biometric clearance to gain access.

  “AMALIA!”

  I couldn’t say if she didn’t hear or chose to ignore me, but her toes disappeared into the tiny tunnel. My bare feet slapped against the cold metal plates on the floor as I dashed down the hallway. I dropped to my knees and they banged against the hard metal. A dull throbbing radiated down my legs, but I ignored it and bent down to peer into the hole.

  “AMALIA!”

  The narrow tunnel was pitch black. My perfect Veredian night vision adapted, revealing the far-stretching passage ahead. Moving at lightning speed, Amalia was already a small dot in the distance. She turned a corner and disappeared from view.

  My blood ran cold. I had no idea where the tunnels went or what lurked in them. She could get hurt or stuck, and I couldn’t get to her. Despite my petite figure, there was no way I would fit.

  “What are you doing there?” a male voice shouted.

  My head snapped towards him.

  Zaluk.

  Being a Guldan albino didn’t make him a freak, but his perversions did. He bragged openly about joining the crew for the possibility of abusing the slaves. Despite his brawny bulk, Zaluk was the lowest grunt on this ship. I guess mistreating helpless females provided him with the only way he could feel powerful. Ignoring him, I scrambled to my feet and bolted towards the deck.

  “Hey, slave!” he shouted.

  Fear twisted my innards, and the sound of his feet pounding the floor behind me spurred me on. Zaluk couldn’t be reasoned with, not when he believed there was an opportunity for abuse. I didn’t have time for his nonsense while my baby faced the Goddess knew what danger.

  I wasn’t much of an athlete, and I could hear Zaluk closing in on me. The deck’s door loomed in the short distance ahead. It suddenly slid open, revealing Piruk walking out. Seeing me barreling down on him, closely chased by Zaluk, he let out a small cry of surprise and flattened himself to the side of the door. Without slowing, I squeezed past him onto the main deck.

  Gruuk sat straight ahead with his back to me. He slowly turned around. The fathomless black pool of his eyes stopped me dead in my tracks. Surprise and confusion fleetingly crossed his features before hardening as Zaluk entered after me. I never caused trouble, and definitely none that would involve the crew.

  The large deck and the three other crewmates manning it seemed to disappear. The light-grey walls faded, even the bright nebula on screen lost its colors. The beeping of the computers and controls drowned in the sound of my labored breathing and the blood rushing in my ears. All I could see was my Master rising from his chair, his darkening expression sucking the air and light out of the room.

  Master Gruuk terrified me. He never mistreated or abused me, whether verbally or otherwise. But the disdain and dislike that shone in his eyes made me all the more squeamish in his presence. I never understood what I’d done to deserve his contempt.

  And it hurt.

  His deep, rumbling voice boomed in the room, sending shivers of fear down my spine.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “I found her tampering with the air system,” Zaluk said in a rush, a malicious glimmer in his eyes. “She fled as soon as I called her out.”

  “Amalia is missing, Master,” I said, gasping to catch my breath. “She somehow got out of our room and crawled into a vent. Please… she might get stuck or hurt.”

  A strange expression I couldn’t interpret crossed his rugged features. The glaring lights of the deck made the dark swirls of his facial tattoos stand out starkly against his light beige skin. Square jaw clenched, he spun towards Doruk, a new recruit that had been quickly climbing the ranks among the crew.

  “Find her,” Gruuk said, his voice cracking like a whip.

  He leveled his dark eyes on me. “How did she get out?”

  “I don’t know, Master Gruuk,” I said, squeezing my hands. “I locked the door before taking a shower. When I came out, Amalia was gone. I went out to look for her and saw her disappear into an open vent near the crew deck.”

  “That’s impossible,” Zaluk hissed. “The vents were all secured. You tampered with it.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but Doruk’s voice stopped me.

  “Got her,” he said. “The security mechanism on three vents have been disabled along a path towards the hold. The computer confirms the child is inside the hold.”

  Master Gruuk muttered a vicious Guldan curse, and the expression on his face made me wither even further. Without another word, he marched past me. I trailed after him, followed closely by Doruk and Zaluk.

  My Master’s long strides forced me to a near run to keep up. By the time we reached the hold, my lungs burned and my skin glistened with sweat. The muffled squeals of my baby seeped through the reinforced, closed door.

  My heart stopped.

  “No!” I breathed out and rushed to the door.

  Doruk’s bruising hold on my arm stopped me.

  “Stay
still, slave,” he barked at me.

  Gruuk placed his hand on the lock mechanism panel and the bio-scanner read his features. The lock deactivated with a beep, then the door swished open. I slapped my hands on my mouth. A naked Terran female wept on the floor, her blond hair disheveled, and red splotches on her skin already turning to hematoma. Close to fifty other females of various species were locked in three sets of cages along the wall. Many of them wept, staring at the two Guldan crewmates in the room. I didn’t know either of them. The one near the abused female quickly tucked his shaft back into his trousers when he saw Master Gruuk. The other, thankfully still fully dressed, held my baby by the hair, dragging her towards the center of the room while she struggled and screamed.

  “UNHAND HER!”

  The sound of Master Gruuk’s voice exploded inside the room, deafening and ominous. The crewmate immediately released Amalia. She kicked his shin and ran towards us, tears streaking down her little face.

  I crouched, spreading my arms wide open. “Amalia!”

  She didn’t come to me.

  Amalia ran to Gruuk, wrapped her tiny arms around his leg and buried her face against his thigh, her tiny shoulders shaking with each sob. He placed a protective hand on top of her head, and pulled out his blaster. I rose to my feet, the bitter bile of rejection burning in my throat, and hugged myself.

  Eyes wide, the crewmate raised shaky palms in front of him to both surrender and plead for mercy.

  “Commander!” he shouted in a high-pitched tone.

  Cold and impassive, Master Gruuk shot the crewmate. The blaster keened. A bright light blinked at its muzzle followed by a fizzing sound. The male collapsed, shaken by severe spasms as if electric shocks coursed through him. Gruuk lifted his hand from Amalia’s head to adjust the setting on his blaster before aiming at him again. Amalia half-turned to look at her fallen attacker but Gruuk once more held her head against him. His large hand shielded her ear and prevented her from seeing as he fired another shot at the male. This time, the crewmate shook with such violent spasms that he smashed the back of his head against the metal plated floor until the dull thud became a wet smacking sound. Blood pooled around his head and poured out of his mouth. He had likely bitten his tongue.

  My gorge rose. I averted my eyes, fighting the urge to cover my ears.

  “Anyone touches the Veredians again without my express consent, I will personally skin him alive, inch by inch, with a serrated blade to enhance the fun,” Gruuk said, in a conversational tone.

  He looked at the female. She shuddered and curled in on herself.

  “Cover yourself,” he said. “Doruk, take her to Maheva so she can tend to her injuries.”

  Doruk nodded and marched over to the female who scrambled to her discarded slave dress. She slipped it back on, wincing with each jerky movement. Still, aside from her repressed sobs, she kept quiet.

  The remaining guard who had been abusing the female stared at Gruuk, wide-eyed, beads of sweat marring his forehead.

  “Why were you punishing that female?” Gruuk asked.

  “She… she… provoked us!” the guard said.

  Gruuk’s expression didn’t change. “How did a caged female provoke you when you shouldn’t have been in the room to begin with?”

  Gruuk didn’t let him reply.

  “No need to answer. We will discuss this later.” Gruuk’s tone didn’t bode well.

  He gestured with his head at the still form of the other guard.

  The shallow rise and fall of his chest, the trembling of his fingers, and the bloody saliva trickling down his chin made me nauseous. I looked away.

  “Clean this up,” Gruuk said. “Maheva will not heal him.”

  He turned to Zaluk.

  “You will take over their responsibilities looking after the females. Remember what happens to those who mishandle what’s mine without valid reasons.”

  Gruuk picked Amalia up. She trustingly wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her out of the room.

  Where is he taking my baby?

  I followed after them, chewing my lip. I wanted to hold my daughter, make sure she was okay, and tell her Mama loved her.

  “How did you get out of your room?” Gruuk asked Amalia with a soft voice.

  “I opened the door.”

  “Wasn’t it locked?”

  Amalia chewed her bottom lip and scrunched her face the way she always did when getting caught doing something she shouldn’t—which occurred often.

  “Yes,” she said, looking guilty.

  “How did you open it?” Gruuk asked as he turned right at the main junction.

  We were heading towards the crew’s sleeping quarters rather than the deck. I hastened my pace to keep up with them, walking two steps behind my Master, and wishing I could see his face.

  Where are we going?

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wanted some juice. The door was locked, but it tickled my hand when I touched it.”

  “Tickled?”

  Oh Goddess… Too soon… Much too soon!

  My stomach churned. Amalia had come into her powers. Endless scenarios of the crew dragging my baby away from me to pawn her off to some brutal master played through my head. My knees weakened, and I almost reached for the wall for support, barely managing to keep walking.

  Amalia nodded with enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the despair sinking its claws into my very soul.

  “It was a nice tickle,” she said, lifting one hand from around Gruuk’s neck to stare at it. “I didn’t understand why, but then I could use it. It’s like those Datoran puzzles. At first, you don’t know and then you know.”

  “It’s Dantorian,” Gruuk corrected gently.

  “Datoreen,” Amalia repeated.

  Master Gruuk chuckled. I froze. In almost twenty-eight years of existence, I had never heard him laugh, let alone chuckle.

  He also never held you like this or spoke to you this gently.

  “Dan-to-ri-an,” Gruuk said, stretching out the pronunciation.

  “Dann-tohhh-reee-ann,” Amalia repeated, with a look of concentration on her little face.

  “Excellent, Amalia,” Gruuk said, his deep voice oozing with warmth. “Good girl.”

  Amalia beamed at him, puffing her small chest.

  “Master Gruuk?”

  “Yes, Amalia?”

  She removed her arms from around his neck, her tiny fingers fiddling with a strand of her long, curly, reddish-brown hair; a telltale sign for her of nervousness.

  “Can I touch your horns, please?”

  She opened wide her yellowish-brown eyes speckled with green—identical to my mother’s—with the most adorable pleading expression that could make even reinforced steel melt.

  Gruuk chuckled again then nodded.

  A mixture of shock, jealousy, and shame left a bitter taste in my mouth. Gruuk had never shown much interest in any of my sisters or myself. In fact, aside from my youngest sister, Aleina, our Master hadn’t cared much for any of us. He never displayed any kind of affection towards me and had sternly declined the one time I had made that same request.

  It shamed me that I should feel envy, even jealousy towards my own daughter over Gruuk bestowing upon her a sliver of the paternal care I’d desperately craved growing up. I should be rejoicing. If Master Gruuk grew fond of my baby, then he wouldn’t want to send her away… I hoped.

  Amalia stretched her small arms to reach his horns. Gruuk bowed his head towards her, his shoulder-length black hair falling like a curtain beside his cheeks. She rubbed her palms over the thick ridges of their slick, ebony surface, a look of pure awe on her face.

  “Sooo nice….” She whispered.

  Gruuk snorted as he came to a stop in front of a locked door at the end of the hallway. I realized then that we had reached his private quarters.

  He put Amalia down and crouched next to her, an arm around her as she continued to lean against him.

  Like a father would…

  �
��Amalia, this is the door to my quarters. It’s locked right now. Do you think you can open it?”

  She shrugged. “I think so. Do you want me to?”

  “I would like that very much.”

  Now that I could finally see his face as he spoke to her, my heart tightened even more in my chest. I’d never seen him with an expression so soft, his eyes so kind, almost affectionate.

  He genuinely cares for her…

  But what did that mean for a male like Gruuk? Guldans were a practical race. To them, love, compassion, and sentiments in general represented a weakness to be silenced and cast aside.

  Amalia placed her hand on the door. Her small body shivered, probably from the tickle in her hand. I remembered all too well the pleasure of touch. Like her, I had been too young and innocent to recognize the sensual nature of interacting with anything that triggered our ability. I only knew then that it was pleasant and therefore I wanted to do it again. It was our body’s way of encouraging us to use it, explore it, and master it. Each time, it provoked a surge of bliss, a micro-high pushing you to seek your next fix.

  My baby’s face took on a faraway expression for a few seconds. Gruuk stared at her. Then the locking mechanism of the door beeped and the light turned green. Gruuk snorted, glanced at the door then back at Amalia who looked at him expectantly.

  He caressed her puffy, curly hair—the bane of my existence to untangle—before cupping her coppery cheek in his palm.

  “Well done, Amalia. I am very proud of you.”

  Amalia grinned, her face flushing with pleasure. She turned to me, seeking my approval. I smiled, nodding at her with what I hoped came across as motherly pride. There indeed was pride, but dread overrode it.

  “Let’s see what else you can do,” Gruuk said.

  Rising to his feet, he opened the door to his room and led Amalia in by the hand. I hesitated on the doorstep. He hadn’t invited me in. Normally, I wouldn’t even think of walking into his private quarters without his express consent—not that I would ever want to—but he had my baby. Despite knowing deep down that he wouldn’t hurt her, I wasn’t letting Amalia out of my sight.