Alien Tribute

by Lee Savino

  “What is this?” Gavrill asks as the Jabol start to race around in the image.

  “Just watch,” Dawn murmurs, interlacing her small hand with his.

  I sit rigid, studying the Tsenturion’s faces. I can’t guess what they’re thinking, although I can feel Bogdan’s growing confusion and anger, his utter grief and devastation when the planet finally explodes. Medik bows his head so that I can no longer see his face.

  “That’s what they wanted to show us,” Dawn says as the three warriors stare stone faced at the hologram showing the rubble of their homeworld. “That and proof that the Vgotha were a slave race, imprisoned by the Jabol and treated cruelly. And when the Vgotha broke free, the Jabol were afraid of their vengeance. So, they destroyed Tsentur and framed the Vgotha.”

  Arkdhem snorts derisively, obviously not believing any of this.

  “You think this is truth?” Gavrill asks, his tone neutral.

  “I do,” Dawn murmurs. “I know it’s crazy, but...I don’t think Tor is lying.” She looks at me.

  “I don’t either,” I say. “I can understand why you’d be reluctant to believe it—”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. This proves nothing,” Arkdhem interrupts, furious. He slams his fist down on the table in front of him. “We lost two warriors today to the Vgotha and you come in here with this… this fake vid, these Vgotha lies—”

  “Lost?!” Dawn’s horrified question cuts him off. “Who did we lose?”

  “Kalexston, who gave his life trying to keep Tribute Pareena from being taken,” Arkdhem glares at me as my heart sinks into my stomach. That must have been the warrior who had been guarding me. Dead? He was dead? “And Borodem who fought them and fell on the beach.”

  “Oh no…” I breathe out the words, tears springing to my eyes. I feel awful about Kalexston, but even worse about Borodem… he’d had so much hope for the future, for his future and now…

  “That’s not the Vgotha’s fault,” Dawn insists, although there are tears now running down her face. “They didn’t attack first. They didn’t lie to you. They have just been trying to meet with you and you didn’t listen!” Realizing what she’s saying, how it sounds like she’s actually blaming her mate, she claps her hands over her mouth and stares at Gavrill in horror and apology.

  “It all comes back to the Jabol,” I say quickly. “If they destroyed Tsentur and lied to you from the beginning—”

  “If,” Arkdhem mutters, his faith still clearly rooted in the Jabol.

  “Then it’s completely understandable why you’d react the way you did today. But they lost warriors today too and Tor still wants to end the fighting… he let us go because he wanted to get this message to you so badly.”

  “The Vgotha are known for their tricks,” Gavrill says, his voice still neutral.

  “Known by who?” I ask gently, since Dawn still has her hands over her mouth, and someone has to ask. “The Jabol?”

  Silence falls again. A muscle in Gavrill’s jaw clenches. Bogdan’s emotions roil so violently I can’t tell what he’s thinking, what he believes.

  Slowly, Medik gets to feet. “I… If you will excuse me…”

  “Yes, of course,” Gavrill says immediately, his voice softening. “We will speak later.”

  Nodding, seemingly dazed, Medik practically stumbles from the room and I bite down on my lower lip. Maybe Bogdan will allow me to seek him out later. He’s obviously in a bit of shock and even though it’s not really my fault, I can’t help but feel a little responsible.

  “We cannot trust a vid from the Vgotha,” Gavrill says finally, his voice gentle because he can tell he’s disappointing Dawn. “They have every reason to lie.”

  “So do the Jabol if the Vgotha are telling the truth!” she retorts.

  “It is very convenient that they suddenly have this vid now,” Arkdhem says with a sneer. He is the most outwardly opposed to believing the Vgotha, but Bogdan has been so quiet, I can’t tell if he agrees with Arkdhem or not.

  “They said they got it—and their new tech and ships—from someone called the Riknari,” I say, remembering that we were supposed to tell them that. I didn’t actually expect much of a reaction, but both Arkdhem and Gavrill stare at me, completely thunderstruck, and I can feel the deep shock that ripples through Bogdan. Tor had been right—it does mean something to them. Something big. “Um… so, uh, what does that mean exactly?”

  27

  Bogdan

  Our Tributes have delivered shock upon shock in a short period of time. Finding them running through the forest had been a joyful one. The vid they’d shown us was a confusing one, because watching it I could feel nothing but pain, but I also do not know if it can be believed.

  The Riknari... That is the biggest shock of all.

  “They’re a… legend,” I say slowly. I look at the High Commander and then at Arkdhem. The latter shakes his head, not believing that the Vgotha have the Riknari on their side any more than he believes in what the vid showed us. Me? I do not know what to believe. But the Riknari… it would explain so much. Why the Vgotha tactics changed. How their ships managed to hide from our scanners. Why their ship returned Tribute Dawn after she was captured.

  "They're a... a fairy tale," Arkdhem snaps and I frown at him, not understanding what he means, but both Tributes immediately nod. "They do not actually exist."

  "Then how do you explain the new Vgotha ships?" I am not convinced the Vgotha's story, that the vid, is real, but... I cannot deny that it might be possible. That very possibility, knowing that we might have been working for those who slaughtered our people all these decacycles, makes me want to rage and weep at the same time.

  "But what are they?" Tribute Dawn asks.

  "They are the Great Defenders," the High Commander says. "It is said that they fight throughout the universe on the side of those who have been wronged. They cannot be bribed, cannot be deterred... they are an extremely advanced race of beings with highly advanced technology. Not much is known about them, but sometimes when a great injustice has been done or an oppressed people are fighting against tyranny, they appear to help. Sometimes with goods or weapons, sometimes medicines, and very occasionally they will aid in battle."

  "Why wouldn't they have contacted you directly after the Great Devastation?" Pareena asks, sounding fascinated.

  "Besides the fact that they do not exist?" Arkdhem mutters.

  "We did not go seeking their help," Gavrill says. His armor flickers, too quickly for me to catch the emotion. I am sure he is as conflicted as I. Arkdhem is the only one who appears sure that this is a Vgotha trick. "It is a large universe. They cannot be everywhere. We lost our people... horribly... but we immediately had allies, tech, everything we needed to seek our justice."

  Except that if the Jabol were truly the ones to destroy Tsentur, then it was not justice. And our warriors and ships, enhanced with Jabol nanotech, had been hunting innocents. The exact type of situation in which the Riknari might appear to help.

  My chest clenches at the thought.

  “You’ll need to do more research,” Tribute Dawn says quietly. “We need to at least look into what the Vgotha are claiming. And you can’t hunt the Vgotha until you know the truth... and we have to stop the Tribute program until we know.”

  “What?” Arkdhem barks, anger flashing over his suit.

  “Please, Gavrill," Tribute Dawn begs. "Any more Vgotha deaths will be on our heads. Even if you're not sure, you can't claim ignorance anymore if it does turn out to be true.”

  "Tor lost warriors as well, but he still is trying to do the right thing," my Pareena says softly. I can feel her sadness, her belief in Tor. I do not want to believe, but I am not unaffected by her emotions. "He said that he is not willing to lose anymore. He said that if you attack again, he will no longer hold back."

  "And he has Riknari weapons," the High Commander murmurs thoughtfully. His shoulders sag with a sigh. Before battling the Vgotha warriors on the beach, we may not have
been concerned, but they proved the reputation of their cowardliness wrong. They did not harm the Tributes. They chose to send the Tributes back. Either it is a very good trap... or it is the truth. Finally, the High Commander shakes his head. "I must think more on this."

  “You are going to treat this... this deceit as truth?” Arkdhem slams his fist on the table again in his frustration. I cannot fault him for his reaction. Without my Pareena's sincerity, her belief, tempering my responses, I might very well have agreed with him.

  “The Tributes are correct, we must investigate," the High Commander says. Relief blows through me—a little of mine and much more from my Tribute. "In the meantime, we cannot let the Jabol know we... are questioning their version of events or that we have been in contact with the Vgotha.”

  “So what if we find the Vgotha? Will we just let them go?”

  “I see no other alternative.”

  Dawn and I visibly relax.

  “This is madness. You’re endangering the whole fleet—your Tributes! The whole tribute program.” Arkdhem's armor flashes his anger, his despair.

  I tighten my arms around my Pareena.

  It is true—if the Jabol are the perpetrators of the Great Devastation, if they were willing to destroy our entire planet and manipulate us into being their weapon, then we must do everything in our power to destroy them. We will need to focus all of the energy we've been using to hunt Vgotha and turn it on them instead. But we are intertwined with them... our alliance, our technology, and our Tributes.

  Without the Tributes we have no hope for the future. The two we've received are not enough. But we cannot ignore what the Jabol have done either, if the vid is true. The ramifications of these revelations go far deeper than just a change of alliance.

  “If this information is correct, we have been dishonored," the High Commander snaps back at Arkdhem. "If it is true, then the real killers of our people have gone unpunished and they have used us as their hunting animals. I will not have us further dishonored."

  “Or it’s a trick and the Vgotha are waiting to crush us!” Arkdhem growls the words, his suit flickering so quickly through colors that I can tell he has lost control over his emotions. "Are we just to stand idly by if they attack us?"

  "No." The High Commander gives him a hard look. "But we will not attack first again either. Not until we have had time to look into the vid and their claims. If they attack first then we will annihilate them... but for now, we will pull back from the planet and figure out our next step. Until we have decided how to investigate, none of this will be discussed outside of this room, with anyone. That is an order."

  The colors on Arkdhem's armor swirl and then mute to a neutral gray. He nods his head, but his expression is stony. "Yes, High Commander."

  "Yes, High Commander," I echo. "If that is all for now, I would like to retire with my Tribute."

  "Permission granted," the High Commander says. "I will give the order that we are to move back from the planet for now. Arkdhem, you will take command on the bridge and oversee our... regrouping. The scout ships will need refueling by now."

  Regrouping sounds better than a retreat, but we all know what it really is. Still, keeping the planet under blockade for long term, especially now that we have our Tributes back, is inadvisable. The warriors will grow weary and the smaller ships will run low on fuel. We will pull back and then... see what the Vgotha do as we decide what we will do.

  It is not a bad plan. The lack of action chafes, but I would rather see to my Pareena than anything else right now.

  "Yes, High Commander," Arkdhem and I say in unison.

  As I carry my Pareena to our quarters I cannot keep my mind on my duty. The Vgotha. The Riknari. The Jabol. Those are the beings I should be thinking about. Instead, all of my focus is on my Tribute. The feel of her back in my arms. The softness of her hair against my neck. The press of her curves against my body.

  The door slides shut behind us and I carry her over to the bed, setting her down on the edge. "Strip," I order her, but the command is almost gentle. "I want to inspect you."

  To my surprise, my Pareena shakes her head. "I don't want to do that," she says, reaching up to tug at my armor. "Make love to me, Bogdan."

  “What?" I understand the terminology from the manuals, but I am unsure of how to proceed. "But—"

  “Right now.” Her hands start to roam over my chest, up to my neck, and her head tilts back as if asking for a kiss. "Please, I need to feel you."

  Something pulses inside of me. I can feel her desire, her need. I have heard of the mating fever as it takes soldiers after a death-defying fight. I did not realize it would be the same for Tributes. Kneeling in front of her, we are on an equal level, and I pull her into me. Her legs part for my body, but it is my stomach that presses against her core, not my cock.

  “You have been through so much, my Pareena,” I whisper in the small shell of her ear, nuzzling it. “I want to inspect you and then you should rest.”

  “I don’t want to rest," she says stubbornly. "I thought my second chance at life was over. I thought I'd never see you again. I want to feel you, inside of me.”

  I clasp the back of her neck and press my forehead against hers. It stills her for a moment, her anxious need softening as I touch her. Everything in me hums in pleasure at the softness of her skin, the lustrous umber of her eyes. I could live forever like this, pressed close to my Pareena as she rests in the circle of my arms. “Did you mean what you said? When you proclaimed your choice before all the Tsenturions?”

  “When I chose you?” Surprise flashes over her face and her forehead creases. An off-key twang jars the smooth melody unraveling inside me. “I told everyone I loved you. Did you think I was lying?”

  I can feel her temper rise, but I am honest.

  “I hoped I would be your choice, that you felt the same for me as I do for you, but when the High Commander gave you leave to choose, I was not sure what you would do."

  “Well you should have had more faith in me. Sometimes, Bogdan, you can be a complete ass,” she huffs. Although I know I should punish her for speaking to me in such a disrespectful manner, I cannot help but laugh. I enjoy her fieriness and I can tell she means it almost affectionately. “But no, I wasn’t lying. I don't ever want to lose you. I’ll be honest, when I first woke up and saw Frllil, I thought I was dreaming. In fact, I thought I was having a coma dream for a really long time, but I wanted it to be real. I thought that my mind made all of this up because it was so close to my sexual fantasies. You’re my every fantasy, Bogdan.”

  She burrows closer, and I understand her desire for me to penetrate her. We both wish to be joined as closely as possible.

  “This is real. And you are mine.” I shift so she straddles my great body, her hair flowing around her face. “You belong to me forever.” I snap my hips upward, making her bounce. Her pupils dilate, her large, dark eyes growing larger and darker. “My mate. And I won’t allow you to forget it. I will show you how very real I am.”

  In a rapid fighting move, I flip her over, so I am seated, and she is over my lap face down. She makes a muffled sound as I peel her 'jeans' away from her bottom, almost tearing the fabric when I can’t remove it fast enough. It is not nearly as convenient as a Tsenturion gown and I make a note that she should only be allowed to wear these 'jeans' on special occasions.

  “Since you do not feel you need rest, I will make love to you as you wish... but first you must be taught proper respect. You should not call your Master an ass.”

  I am not at all surprised by the lack of regret I feel from her.

  "Well then don't doubt my feelings for you," she mutters.

  SMACK!

  The satisfaction I feel from having my Tribute across my thighs, her soft bottom quivering from a hard slap, is immense. It soothes the anxiety that built up inside of me when I was searching for her, making me feel more connected to her than ever.

  "I will not doubt your feelings again, and you will learn
not to insult me," I say calmly. Immediately, I feel a hint of mischief trickle through her and I shake my head, although I do not bother to hide my smile since she cannot see my expression.

  "I'm sorry for calling you an ass, Master," she says, but I can both hear and feel her insincerity. This spanking is not truly about addressing her behavior, though, and we both know it. Still, some of the formalities must be observed.

  "You will be once I am done disciplining yours," I tell her and raise my hand again.

  28

  Pareena

  I squeal as Bogdan's hand comes down again and again on my ass. I could tell he wasn't truly upset with me, and considering I'd just been abducted and recovered from the Vgotha I'd kind of thought he'd go a little easier on me, but that is not the case.

  Smack! Smack!

  "Ow, Master, please!" I try to twist away from his hand. The spanking hovers between punishment and pleasure and I'd really prefer the latter. Instead of indulging me though, Bogdan just takes a firmer grip on my body, tipping me forward even more on his lap so that my fingers press against the floor to help keep me from feeling completely off balance.

  Every stinging swat makes my pussy clench and I cry out as my desire surges. I can already feel tears gathering in the backs of my eyes. Not because the spanking hurts so much but because I'm so relieved to be back over my Master's lap, to feel his discipline... and hopefully I'll be feeling his cock very soon, too.

  My legs kick out, but they're tangled in the jeans and my movement is restricted. I moan as Bogdan's hand pauses for a moment, caressing the warmed cheeks of my ass before seeking out my pussy. I can feel the nanotech from the bride trainer creeping over the front of my mound and sliding over my clit. I moan when the vibrations hit, just enough to tease me, not enough to get me off. His fingers push into my pussy, but only for a moment, just long enough to coat the digits in my wetness before he’s pressing them against my ass.