by F. E. Arliss
The only good thing to come of these wounding incidents was that Major Stallic agreed to let her train in self-defense with the most talented instructor on the base. Her instructor trained the prison guards, so he was extremely accomplished. Much to Jullian’s relief, Captain Zachary wasn’t a total prick either and set about teaching her the most effective ways to disarm and repel an attacker.
To her surprise, she was a very fast learner when it came to martial arts. Captain Zachary was also pleased that she took the training seriously and spent hours each day practicing and learning new moves. Frankly, she didn’t have anything better to do. Jullian meditated and practiced. That was it. She quickly caught up with trainees that had been learning far longer than she. Then surpassed them.
The long bouts of practice also went some way towards repelling the rumors that touching her made one ill. Clearly, that information was wrong. None of her sparring partners came down ill. They went down, but it was from her efforts on the practice mat. Most of them didn’t want to try it again.
Every evening when she lay in her bunk looking back at the day, she reminded herself of the joy of being alive. There was damn little joy for her in this existence. But to live was to feel both pain and joy. She had enough pain now. Between her own constricted state, and Shale’s never ending nightmare which was also thrust upon her as she healed him, her joy for being alive was slowly draining away.
Jullian also felt less and less enamoured of her own kind. It wasn’t just humans, she knew. It was all sentient beings. Domination, power, those were the things that fed the will to live. Jullian was tired of being the victim, used by the Guard, used by Shale - not that that had been his own choice. She was ready to bring her own kind of power to reign. How to do so was the question.
Each day as she made her walks through the complex for exercise and diversion, she mapped the Outpost in her mind. While she channeled energy into Shale, she fed that information into his mind. They never spoke aloud. The only time she’d ever heard his real voice was at that first meeting. Now they spoke silently, constantly, and gradually, even at a distance.
As their bond had slowly grown over the three months she’d fed him, so had the ease and strength of their mental connection. Now, as they walked him back to his cell, he fed the images of the prison complex into her mind. It was an awful place. Cold, dark, devoid of any color or sound, and smelled of nothing but metal and body odor. No wonder the people who worked there were irredeemable reprobates.
A plan had come together slowly. As the Guard forced her to heal a tortured alien every two or three days, her abilities grew and expanded. She could feel her powers extending farther and farther out around her. Each piece slotting into place as she and Shale merged their mental pictures into a collage that created a storyboard of the Outpost’s routines, controls, personalities, and secrets.
Jullian did not hate the people on the Outpost, but she did not feel any connection to them either. The only two people who treated her honestly were Kapong and Shale. She would miss Kapong dearly. He was the only person in her life who had ever given her unconditional support and kindness. It was a rare commodity. Kapong had a place here. He belonged. She did not. Her heart ached at his loss.
On the morning of the last day of the third month of her incarceration, for that is what it had been, a prison sentence, they were ready. Jullian channeled energy into Shale drawing from as far out as she possibly could. She could feel the energy building in Shale’s body.
He pretended to stay slumped and wilted looking. Jullian sent the door guard on a mission to bring her electrolytes and food, pretending that Shale’s condition was draining her abilities. Major Stallic came forward to check on her, bending over solicitously. Jullian leaned forward as though slumping in a faint. The Major knelt to catch her wilting body. Shale simply lifted one shackled arm and slipped it around the Majors lowered head. Applying pressure, he let the Major slip into unconsciousness.
Jullian shoved the Major’s limp form to the ground, rummaged through his pockets for the keypad to the shackles, and quickly unlocked Shale’s hands and feet. Seconds later they were down an access shaft to the ventilation system and onto the top-security landing platform for prisoner delivery. In 3 minutes, the emptied prison transport ship would be taking off after dumping its cowering contents.
She and Shale would be on it. Undiscovered and stowed away in the bins of refuse they shipped off-Outpost to be recycled. It had usually taken the guards 15 minutes to bring her food back to her in the interrogation room. They had 10 minutes in which to implement the plan. Time had made the guards complacent. She’d be too drained to move and the Major would sit chatting with her til the guard’s returned. Usually bringing a snack for the Major to have as well.
They didn’t know she’d learned to read their thoughts as well. The whole three months had helped her realize that her powers were far greater than she or anyone else had ever imagined they could be.
She had not told Shale that she could read other’s thoughts. He still believed it was just his, and that it was just general impressions, not clearly defined thoughts. For whatever reason, she trusted no one, now. Not even Shale. Maybe Kapong. No, not even Kapong. Kapong would protect the innocent. Jullian no longer included herself in that phrase.
No, she was no longer an innocent. She’d seen into the workings of this Outpost and the people who ran it. Most of them were rotten inside and out. They all had some good points, but in the end, they answered blindly to authority and carried out acts that any truly compassionate person would have found abhorrent. They carried on, swept along on a wave of patriot ‘duty’.
None of them were innocents anymore. In learning to chat and get along with Major Stallic for appearance’s sake, Jullian had learned that he desired her, but would never act on it. He called it the ‘damn half-foot’ problem in his own mind. Meaning, she towered over him by a damn half-foot.
There’d been no sign or communication from Tom Chadmore. Major Stallic assured her he was well and serving in deep space, unable to get back to Outpost Alcatraz. ‘Bastard’, was all Jullian could think. Selium crystals made communication easy over even the greatest of distances. He could have communicated at any time with Outpost Alcatraz. It hurt her to realize he’d most likely used their relationship for his own gain. How stupid did these officers think she was? Pretty damn dumb, seemed to be the answer.
From reading Major Stallic she learned that Tom had indeed had her brought to Outpost Alcatraz in exchange for his promotion to Major. Major Stallic felt sorry for Jullian. He didn’t like Chadmore. Too tall, muscular and good-looking, a fucking golden-boy, was how Major Stallic thought of Chadmore. Poor Jullian. Conned by a master con-man. The Guard thought Chadmore was so great. He was just a suck-up, to Major Stallic’s thinking anyway.
The confirmation of her suspicions about Chad did not make Jullian feel better. She’d hoped her feeling of doubt and betrayal were unfounded. They weren’t.
The plan went like clockwork. They’d vaulted into the trash bins like they’d been training for the Olympics. Only 30 seconds passed before they could feel the bins being rolled aboard the transport. A few more minutes for them to be lashed into place, and the transport doors closed. Seven minutes later they’d cleared the dome and were getting ready for the first space jump.
Shale had already climbed noiselessly from the bins. His ability to move without sound astonished Jullian. She was used to his clanking chair and now she felt like a bull in a china shop in comparison. He’d hoisted her quickly out of the bin and turned towards the bridge before she could even catch her breath. The guy was like a ghost. Gliding through space like he commanded it. Perhaps he did.
Jullian had learned that he was thousands of years old. He’d only been captured because the Queen of his nest had been on a rampage of rage over some small infraction and had left him marooned on a supply planet alone. Shale said she did it regularly. He hadn’t worried about it and had set off to have a rel
axing few days, only to find that there were no mammalian species on the planet, only plants, insects, and fish. He’d slowly lost strength.
When the Guard cruiser had broken space and scanned the surface, his Idolum life-signs had set off a 3 weeks long manhunt, which ended in his capture. Mostly due to his weaken, starving condition. They’d taunted him with the fact that the Queen had returned for her General, but by then they were on the manhunt for him and she turned and space-jumped without offering assistance or resistance.
When Jullian arrived on the bridge of the cruiser, the pilot was dead. Thrown into a shriveled heap on one bulkhead. Well, that was new. Shale had literally drained the pilot of his life energy. A shudder of uncertainty went through her system.
“Don’t worry, I promise not to drain you,” Shale said solemnly in his grating, whirring external voice. They both startled at the sound of it, then burst out laughing in an exuberant burst of tension releasing humor.
“I can’t believe I’m laughing,” Jullian gasped, “while a dead guy is staring at me.” Then she laughed even harder. “Ok, I think that’s a bit of shock talking. Sitting down,” she stated, sinking into the co-pilot’s seat. “Where are we heading?”
Shale glanced at her, then said, “You’ll have to wait and see.” Jullian shrugged and said, “As long as it’s better than Outpost Alcatraz.” Then grinned at him, “Surprise me.”
Shale barked out a grating laugh.
Just then Outpost Delta commed them, “Transport ship Gull Glide, please report your status. We have a security breach. Please return to Outpost Alcatraz.”
Shale laughed again, “That’s not happening. I’ve programmed three consecutive jumps into this antiquated ship. That should take us out of their reach soon enough.” His long, pale-fingered hand reached out and tapped a button with a thick, pointed nail. The small transport bucked, then jumped, came abruptly out into a galaxy Jullian had never seen before, then bucked and jumped again. After the third one, she felt a little green.
Coming to Outpost Alcatraz the old freighter she’d been on had only jumped occasionally, broken with long warp-drive runs. She wasn’t used to these consecutive jumps.
Shale looked at her and said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take cover behind that moon for a few hours and make sure we weren’t followed. Try to rest.”
Jullian stood, squeezed his shoulder and said, “Do you need energy?”
“No, I was angry when I drained the pilot. It was an error. Just having you near-by allows me to feel comfortable now. You are a powerful channel, little queen. Rest. We are safe,” he said mentally.
She sank down onto one of the crew bunks attached to the space behind the bridge and was almost instantly asleep. The adrenaline that had raced through her system during the escape had left her limp with relief and exhausted by the enormity of her actions. Oblivion in sleep was bliss.
Chapter Seven
Betrayed
Jullian was jounced from sleep 10 hours later when the transport bumped to an abrupt landing. Shale appeared beside her. “Crikey man,” she grumped groggily, “where did you learn to land a ship.”
“This piece of junk is not a ship,” Shale informed her hauntily. “It is a piece of space trash that happens to move.”
Jullian giggled. “I await your interpretation of a great ship with bated breath,” she said, widening her eyes to look innocent. “I’m sure I’ll agree.”
Shale rolled his eyes, then said, “Go get cleaned up. I’ve set out some clothes for you to wear that will be more appropriate for this trading outpost then what you’re been wearing for the past three months.”
Jullian was ecstatic to get out of the worn jeans and long-sleeve tee she’d been wearing. While the Guard had paid her for her services to Shale, she hadn’t wanted to spend their ‘blood money’, as she thought of it, on any of the goods offered by the merchants who loathed her. She’d loaded every dime of her pay onto her account card and then later transferred it onto an untraceable microchip implanted in her forearm. Someday she’d use it. Just not now.
Showering and then drying her long blonde hair into a sleek, shining mass of white-gold, Jullian held up the outfit for inspection. Of all the awful get-ups! It looked like a Halloween costume for one of the ugly stepsisters from Cinderella. The long, full skirt and fitted, long-sleeve blouse, had a closer-than-skin-tight, corset-like vest to go over it. All of it was in nauseating shades of mauve. It would look good on her, she admitted, but she hated the concept of it. Only the boots were good. A sort of super sturdy, white-gold looking fabric that molded itself to her foot and looked dainty while giving her excellent support.
When she stepped out of the small shower area, Shale was waiting impatiently. “Good,” he grunted. “It will do.”
“I look ridiculous,” Jullian snapped. “I hate this outfit.”
“Hate it or not,” Shale shrugged, “It will keep you safe on this planet. You will act the part of my dutiful slave.”
“No way!” Jullian state emphatically. “I’ve been a slave to the Guard for three months, I don’t need that shit from you too.”
Shale sighed, “You are not really my slave. It is only an act while we get you different clothes and more supplies. We must buy a different ship and there will be no humans on this planet that are not slaves. Maybe no humans at all. Do you understand?” he explained, not without a certain long-suffering patience.
“Ok,” Jullian huffed. “But for no longer than it takes to get off this planet.”
With that agreement, they lowered the transport door and walked out into the strangest settlement Jullian had ever seen. It was daylight on a real planet. For that fact alone, she wanted to drop to her knees and kiss the ground. She didn’t. But she sure wanted to.
The next second she was too busy gawping at the sleek airships that shared the landing area all around them. She might have to revise her attitude about ‘good ships’ afterall. These looked like something out of a weird dream. Some sleekly beautiful, and a few really, really ugly ones that looked like fish-hooks had been vomited all over them.
The buildings of the settlement looked like an old west, deserted ghost town, and had clearly been made of trees from the nearby forest. The main street was full of all different species and clothes and shops and food and goods hanging for display. It was all so strange and so cool! Everywhere she looked there was some interesting person or thing.
The next few minutes brought her down to earth, so to speak!. Most of the street had ground to a halt and was staring at her. About three-quarters of the beings were Idolum, the rest, she wasn’t sure. She spotted a couple of Arachnians at one shop. Their creepy, upright likeness to a spider had her stepping closer to Shale as they made their way slowly down the street.
Drawing herself to her full height, she looked haughtily down her nose at the Idolum that stared at her. All were male. Not that ‘down her nose’ actually worked, as most were taller than she. Not all, though, she realized. She could hold her own height-wise in this crowd. Especially now that she knew from Shale that the Queens were usually a bit shorter than their generals and workers. That knowledge gave her renewed courage and she continued on as though she was the ‘little queen’ Shale called her.
They passed a stockyard full of penned Soclaued, a sloth-like, bi-ped, white, wiry-haired species of ore mining mammals. They were being auctioned off to frantically bidding Idolum and a few Dreasing. For food or slaves, Jullian thought sadly. Either way a bad end. The Dreasing, a humanoid race of bronze, scaley-armored warriors were invariably despicable. Most were slavers, thieves, or mercenaries. They liked to fight and had an unending thirst for violence. In that, they were much like the spidery Arachnians.
Shale led her into the dark, gloomy building that turned out to be something like a bar. It, like all the buildings on the strange little street outside, was made of wood. Again, it looked a bit like a fake old Western movie set. Various booths and tables offered quiet places to bargain and partake of
food, some of which appeared to be small, live-species, served in thin, wire cages to the Idolum in the establishment. Other imbibements were taken by the Dreasing. A plate of squirming, maggot-like insects writhed in front of an Arachnian. Jullian suppressed a shudder of revulsion.
Shale gently shoved her into a booth and sat next to her, leaving the opposite bench-seat empty. When a server, a scrawny pale-skinned, wiry-haired youth approached them, Jullian identified him as a Vanguardian.
She’d read about that species. Supposedly very honorable, and some, the ones that their families or species considered, “imperfect’ had been sold off as slaves, from, interestingly enough, what was now Outpost Alcatraz.
Originally, it had been a Vanguardian outpost that sorted the ‘imperfects’ and found them new ‘placements’. Seriously, the Vanguardians might be great and honorable warriors, but they had a screwed up social standard.
“How may I help you, General Shale?” The young Vanguardian asked. “It is our honor to see you again, sir.”
“I need no sustenance, as my faithful slave sees to that, Crawler. I would like to engage in trade, if it so pleases the establishment,” Shale stated, with a polite nod of his head to the patrons of the bar.
“What have ye for trade, General?” One of the Dreasing asked curiously. The rest of the room turned an ear. Wherever their ears were, Jullian thought with the sudden urge to laugh.
“I have a human cargo transport for trade,” Shale stated baldly. “In return I require a small sloop capable of long distance jumps. It is a more than fair trade,” Shale stated. Turning to Crawler, he said, “Bring my honored slave a drink and something to eat.”
They spent the next half-hour sitting quietly while Jullian ate and drank the refreshments that Crawler brought. The beverage was just water. As for the food, she wasn’t sure what it was, but she was grateful for the sustenance. For all she knew it might have been compressed maggot patty. It was the right color. The taste wasn’t too bad and the texture was comforting. Sort of firm, but slightly soggy. Very much like heavy tofu. She just thought about tofu while she ate it. Tofu. Tofu. Tofu.