by Lee Savino
"You're talking about it like it was alive." I'm fascinated by the idea.
"I think it might have been. Before Gavrill put it back into space to follow it, the Tsenturions discovered that it was made of living organic material. Like a really smart mushroom or something. I think it decided to help me.”
"I guess that's why we're in a cave instead of on a ship," I reply, a little glumly, tugging at the bonds on my wrists. My head falls back as the stark reality of our situation is really driven home. Captured by Vgotha, who are obviously working to keep us from escaping the same way Dawn did the first time, and I no longer even have the faint hope of waking up in the hospital.
Part of me can’t believe I convinced myself that this was all a dream. I've never had dreams that felt so real. I think deep down, I always knew it was happening, I just didn't want to admit it. Because being abducted by aliens to be a sex slave isn't something that's supposed to happen in real life. Considering the trauma of cancer and knowing I was dying, followed by the trauma of being abducted by aliens, believing everything was a dream was my brain’s way of protecting myself.
Huh. I wonder if other Tributes will be more likely to handle being abducted the way Dawn did or the way I did. She wasn’t already dealing with trauma at the time she was taken, unlike me. She told me she had lost her family members before abduction, but their deaths weren’t recent. Maybe being in the midst of a first trauma when abducted led to dissociation.
“What are you thinking about?” Dawn interrupts.
“Oh... nothing important. Therapist thoughts.” I make a face. I need to focus. Because this is real and if I ever want to see Bogdan again, we need to escape. I can't even feel his emotions right now but I'm sure he's furious and terrified... emotions that start to rise in myself when I realize I don't even know if he's alive. Swallowing back the fear, I shake my head. I have to operate under the assumption that he's alive and well or I'll completely break down. This is my second chance at life, dammit. I'm not going to let myself break down unless I know that something has happened to him. “What do you think the Vgotha want with us?”
“Before the attack, Tor said something about wanting to meet with the High Commander," she says slowly. "That's what he said he wanted last time too. I don't know why though. And I don't know why he thinks attacking them will help—"
“The Tsenturions attacked us,” a deep voice interrupts. Tor strides back into the room, almost prowling, like some great beast out of a fairy tale. He swings his great antlered head my direction and I freeze like a rabbit sighting a predator, suddenly unsure of myself. “Tribute Pareena. I trust you are feeling better?”
“Oh yeah, I’m doing great,” I try for sarcasm, but my voice comes out breathy and scared. I shrink back on the table as he looms over me.
"Leave her alone, asshole!" Dawn yells at him and out of the corner of my eye I can see her struggling again. Straightening, Tor makes a gesture, not unlike a Tsenturion ordering a door to open on their ship. Part of the wall seems to grow outward, a grey-green mask moving almost like nanotech to cover her mouth. Her eyes are huge and frantic as her cries grow muffled, but she's still breathing.
“What did you do to her?” My voice has gotten a little shriller. So much for sounding brave.
“Nothing that will harm her. Her shrieks have begun to hurt my ears.” He grimaces slightly, shooting a look over his shoulder that would make most people quail in fear. Dawn glares back at him.
“Let her go,” I demand, my own fear sliding away in defense of my friend. It doesn't hurt that so far, while he looks threatening, Tor hasn't actually done anything to hurt us. Heck, he healed my side. Then again, I wouldn't have been hurt if he hadn't had us kidnapped...
“Not unless she will keep silent and allow me to speak. I have waited a long time for this audience and time is of the essence.”
“Destroying the entire Tsenturion planet wasn’t a good way to get their attention." I scowl at him. "Maybe you should’ve just left a message at the beep.”
With a grunt, he waves his hand at my table. Streams of grey-green table matter flow up my shoulder, starting to cover my mouth.
“Wait,” I sputter. “I’ll be quiet. Just... tell me what you want with us. Maybe I can help.”
He pauses. Another flick of his wrist and the gag flows away and becomes part of the table again.
Alien tech is so cool. Super creepy, but cool.
“I have been trying to communicate with the High Commander for some time. A message could not be sent over normal channels. There was no way to ensure it would not be intercepted and corrupted.”
“Well, kidnapping us is not going to create any good will between you," I point out, keeping my tone reasonable. I find myself falling into my therapy voice, pointing out the flaws in his logic. "They’re probably pretty upset with you right now. On top of the whole genocide thing.”
For a long moment, Tor stares at me and I shrink back, thinking that maybe I've gone too far... Then he turns away and with a wave of his hand, a portion of the wall smooths out. Images appear as if on a screen—the clearing where we were. There are Tsenturions in full armor patrolling the empty space. One runs out of the woods to the center where Arkdhem stands, clenching his fists over and over again—it looks like he's giving a report. They're searching for us.
I don’t see Bogdan or Gavrill and my heart aches. My heart sends a plea out to the universe that they're both unharmed.
“They’ll find us, you know,” I tell Tor quietly. “They won’t stop looking until they do.”
He snorts. “They will not find you. They did not even know we were here on this planet or they would not have brought you here. But now I have the upper hand and the High Commander will listen to my demands." Tor's dark gaze turns to the screen. "Once he is desperate enough, he will do anything. Even talk with a Vgotha."
Bogdan
I tear a sapling up by its roots and toss it aside. Beside me, the High Commander does the same. Behind us, Tsenturion warriors comb the undergrowth. I refused to leave the planet and almost as soon as he'd gone up to the Command Ship and ensured his orders to create a blockade around the planet were being followed, the High Commander returned.
Neither of us can sit by idly, waiting for news, when we could be looking for our Tributes. Even if I find nothing, I must try. All I am sure of is that my Pareena still lives. I cannot feel her emotions, but I feel sure of that.
The High Commander hefts another sapling and sends it crashing into the brush. “It’s no use. We should burn this place to the ground."
“Once we are sure Dawn and Pareena are not here.” We don't even know if they are still on this island, but I know neither of us will risk the fact that they might be. The only thing we can be sure of is that they are still on the planet.
The High Commander covers his face with a hand for a moment. When he drops it, his face is frozen like a mask, anguish writ in every line of his body.
"I cannot do it, Bogdan," he says quietly, so that no one will overhear. In that moment, he is not my High Commander, he is my friend, and he is in pain. "I cannot sacrifice her for our people, and I cannot sacrifice our people for her. I do not know what to do."
Clapping my hand on his shoulder, I bow my head forward until our foreheads touch in a show of shared grief.
"We do not know what Tor wishes," I say quietly. "But your Dawn was unharmed the last time he took her. No matter how the Vgotha feel about us, there is no reason to think they'd hurt the Tributes."
"We have hunted them for so long and now..." Gavrill sighs, closing his eyes. "I don't know what to do. What concessions I might be willing to make." He looks at me, pain in his eyes. "Perhaps you were right, and the Tributes are a weakness we should not have indulged in until the Vgotha threat was eradicated."
"No," I say immediately, pulling back and shaking my head. "I was wrong, and you were right. Your Dawn, my Pareena... they are worth more than their ability to bear our children. They are the
hope for our future, and they brighten our lives. I cannot imagine how hard is it to have your Dawn taken from you a second time, but you cannot give up." I grip his shoulders. "Your Tribute needs you, High Commander." Although he has been speaking to me as Gavrill, I deliberately use his title to push him back into his role.
It has the effect I hoped for and he straightens up, determination firming his jaw.
“The planet is blockaded,” I say. "They are here. All we have to do is find them."
There is a subtle shift in the color of his armor—it is still the bluish gray of despair and mourning, but there is something new there too. Something more determined.
I would not have expected myself to be one for rousing speeches, but my Pareena has changed that about me. She has given me something I did not have before—a reason to live rather than a reason to die. Sending her off with another was foolish. I should have gone with her. If—when—I get her back, nothing will ever take her from my side again.
Grief for Kalexston, for Borodem rises again. They have already been taken back to the Command Ship where their bodies will be prepared for full funeral honors. Kalexston's death especially weighs on my conscience, but I will ensure he did not die in vain.
We will tear this planet apart looking, if we must. There is nothing in the universe that will keep me from my Pareena. And then the Vgotha will pay for their crimes.
Pareena
“What is it you want?” I ask, a little worried by the almost manic gleam in his eyes.
“We Vogtha have been persecuted and hunted unjustly for too long. The age of hiding and cringing in shadows needs to end, we need peace.” The way he says it is almost a threat and I can only imagine how he thinks peace will be obtained. To be fair, the Tsenturions seem to feel the same way about Vgotha, but...
“The Tsenturions hunt the Vgotha because you destroyed their planet and everyone on it. You’re the aggressors. You struck first. You blew up Tsentur. Of course, they were going to come after you.”
“That is what your warriors think, the lie they were told." His face twists in anger, making him appear truly frightening. I am glad that anger is not directed at me. "That is what I want to tell them. The truth behind our supposed attack on Tsentur.”
I'm a therapist, I know better than anyone that there are multiple sides to any story. The Tsenturions seem sure... but so does Tor.
"What is the truth?" Because there are a lot of things that don't add up. I admit, I got a little frustrated when Gavrill wouldn't let Tor get a word in edgewise. He was a hologram, not even there in person, and Gavrill wouldn't let him finish a sentence. I'd wanted to know what he wanted, just from natural human curiosity.
"The Vgotha did not destroy Tsentur."
"Okay..." I draw out the word, tilting my head at him. "Do you have any proof of that?"
A grim smile curves his lips. "Not so long ago, we finally acquired some."
He waves his hand and the screen showing the Tsenturions searching for us changes. No more forest, I can now see a landing deck, much like the one where the presentation ceremony was conducted. Instead of Tsenturions, blob like creatures ride little platforms around. The creatures look like Frillil, when he wasn't trying to look humanoid.
“The Jabol,” I say. “What does this have to do—”
“Watch,” Tor commands, his voice deep and resonant in this underground cavern.
So I watch. The video speeds up, the Jabol racing around the platform, interacting with their computers. I don’t know exactly what I’m seeing but the air feels heavy. Something bad is about to happen on screen, I can sense it.
Groups of Jabol cluster around a console in front of a large screen of their own, all of them practically vibrating with excitement. The screen in front of them shows a view of space... and then a giant planet floats into view.
“Planet Tsentur,” Tor explains in a bleak voice just as the Jabol being to sway back and forth. Something on the bottom edge of the screen is beginning to glow, brighter and brighter, turning a threatening red.
And I can’t breathe. Somehow, I know what’s about to happen. I've seen Star Wars but... this isn't a movie. It's real. A large beam of energy shoots out from the Jabol's ship, straight at the planet. It ripples, flaring and pulsing, and that horrifying bright red light surrounds the planet.
A minute later—probably more, because the video is sped up—Tsentur explodes. They did it. The Jabol Death Star-ed Tsentur.
25
Pareena
Seeing Tsentur explode has both Dawn and I nearly limp with horror. Knowing it happened was bad enough... watching it... I can only imagine the terror of the Tsenturion people when that terrible red glow surrounded their planet. They would have known something was wrong, that something was happening. I can only hope they didn't suffer when the final blow came.
“How?" I gasp out the word, tears surging in my eyes. "How come Gavrill and the others don't know this?"
“The Jabol were trusted merchants who commonly traded with the Tsenturions. A ship of theirs would have been welcomed into Tsenturion space," Tor says darkly, still staring at the screen. "When the High Commander's ship returned home, they were there to greet him and tell him about the horrible Vgotha who had destroyed Tsentur."
For a long moment the room is quiet, but I feel like I’ve just survived an earthquake. My whole world view is shaken, but at the same time, I can't make sense of it. Why would the Jabol do that?
“You could’ve doctored that footage,” I say, but I’m not certain. Across the room, Dawn’s eyes are wide, and tears roll down her cheeks as well. Both of us are affected, confused... I don’t know who to believe. “Why would the Jabol even want to blow up the Tsenturions’ planet? Like you said, they traded with them.”
“The Jabol needed protectors. They faced a new threat, risen from the ranks of the species they kept as slaves.”
“What threat?”
“The Vgotha.” Tor’s voice echoes in the chamber, filling the shocked silence. “Have the Tsenturions ever wondered where the Vgotha came from?"
"Um..." I look at Dawn, because she's known them for longer than I have. She shakes her head slightly, eyes wide over the gag, her expression just as troubled as mine.
"They treated us as beasts of labor, enslaved for centuries." Tor snarls, shaking his antlered head. "They do not see other species as being equal, do not consider us important. The Jabol are not fighters. They focused their technology on exploiting and experimenting on other species, but they did so subtly, knowing that war would thwart their efforts. They grew complacent, thinking the Vgotha were too stupid, too ignorant to even want to be free of their tyranny. But they were wrong. We revolted. Stole ships and escaped their tyranny, and then returned again and again to free more of our people. They needed strong protectors who would regard us as the enemy, without having to explain what they had done to us.”
“So, they blew up Tsentur and framed you,” I whisper. It could be a lie. A trick. A trap.
But I believe him.
Tor bows his head.
“Do you have proof? That you were enslaved?” I brace for more videos.
In answer, Tor lowers his head, turning so I can see the bare skin on the back of his neck, a worn patch where no fur grows. There, in faded ink, is a tattooed symbol of a circle with three wavy lines traveling horizontally across it. I still, my breath catching. I immediately recognize that symbol, I saw it all over Frllil's facility. I never asked what it meant, I just assumed it was a Jabol thing. Well, technically I guess it is.
“This marks me as property of the Jabol,” Tor rumbles. “I’ve bore it since birth. The slavers took me from my mother and gave it to me before I was sent to the children pens and raised for a single fate: to work and die in the mines. The Jabols need supplies for all their tech.”
“They didn’t use robots?” I blurt. I can’t get my mind around this.
“Why would they waste their great intellect on building and maintaining
machines for such a low purpose when they had easily replaceable labor?" He sneers and I know he's not speaking his opinion but repeating something he must have heard once. "Every one of my race was captured and pressed into work. Indeed, I was sent to the most dangerous places, for as a child I was small and could fit into the narrow spaces where the Jabols found the best ore.”
I stare into Tor’s white eyes, feeling like I’ve been crushed under a boulder. My stomach roils and threatens to bubble over.
If this is true, then everything the Tsenturions believe about the Jabol and Vgotha is wrong. The race they’ve been hunting for years, in a misguided sense of punishment, is innocent. The real aggressors, the Jabol, control the narrative and rule the Tsenturions in their own way.
This is awful. I can’t imagine someone like Frllil being so cruel... but then again, he's willing to capture human women, risk their lives by bringing them through a wormhole, to be the brides of aliens. And before Dawn got involved in the program, they didn't even ask for the negligible consent that I gave. So maybe I'm not the best judge of what Jabol ethics might lead Frllil to do... I don't like to think that he had anything to do with the destruction of Tsentur, because I liked him, but that doesn't mean I'm right.
Maybe the Jabol are a little like humans and there are some who are capable of committing terrible acts and some who are really good people. Or maybe they're exactly like humans and even the really 'nice' ones are capable of terrible things, especially when it comes to others that they think are different or less than them.
But none of that is what is most important.
“We have to tell them,” I finally say. I still feel sick, but there’s not time. “We have to tell the Tsenturions what really happened.” The horrible image of Tsentur’s broken pieces is still on screen.
