by Alana Khan
I make a pact with myself. I can enjoy sex with Anya. I’m a grown male with a fully-functioning body. It’s healthy to enjoy the sex. Besides, we have to do it anyway. But whatever I think I’m feeling for her? That’s got to stop. The physical stuff, that is just mechanics. My heart? I don’t have one. I let my walls down for a moment. But now they’re back up and battened down tight.
Chapter Six
Anya
This morning, upon my return from medbay, I summon Tyree in my thoughts and she hears me; this proves another leap in her abilities.
We have a long talk and, in less than an hour, I’ve collected a ton of information. Like how many crew there are: captain, first mate, doctor, four Urluts, two mechanics, and two low-level humanoid grunts who do everything from cook to clean to laundry. That’s eleven of them versus ten gladiators. The captain, first mate, and mechanics may have some military training and fighting experience, but from what Tyree tells me, the two helpers will put up about as much fight as the doctor, and I don’t think the doc ever threw a punch in his life.
Even though our side will be completely out-gunned, I really do think we have a fighting chance! And frankly, I don’t believe I’ll survive if we don’t engage in this battle. I think of Zar’s dead eyes and I know I don’t want to become like that. I nod my head as I decide that win or lose, I’m all in for this confrontation. If it’s to the death, so be it.
I pace my small cell, realizing I don’t know if I’ll be alive in a week. I might be pregnant with a Ton’arr/human baby. I don’t know if we’ll have this insurrection. Or if we’ll win or lose. And if we win? Can I ever go back to Earth? I’m certainly not going back if I’m pregnant. Hell, Earth hasn’t evolved enough to tolerate other skin colors and religions. I don’t think humans are ready to accept lion people from outer space.
I’m shocked as I realize I’ve morphed from the woman who stood in the grocery store freezer section debating which Lean Cuisine to buy, to masterminding an insurrection. I don’t know how I changed so quickly. Desperation, maybe. I fully accepted the situation I’m in, realized no one is coming to save me, and am figuring out how to make my life better. I’ve accepted the fact that I’m here on a spaceship a million miles from home—never to return. Never to return? Wow, that concept is too big to ponder right now.
I cup my hands and grab a drink of water from the sink. When I realize I’m still a bundle of nerves, I shake my head as if I could fling all the worry thoughts out of my mind.
When Zar arrives back at our cell, I know something’s wrong before the barred door clangs shut behind him. He barely makes eye contact, then heads to the sink to wash up. Does he think I can’t tell he just took a shower in the ludus like he does every day? His hair’s still damp. I’m not an idiot. He’s “washing up” so he can turn his back to me and not look me in the eye. I’m having none of this!
“Are you ashamed?” I stand up and approach him, hands on hips. “Are you so ashamed of what we did this morning that you can’t look me in the eye?”
He doesn’t turn, doesn’t respond.
“It was a mistake.” His voice is soft; he’s still facing the back wall.
“Fuck you, Zar! Fuck you very much!” My nostrils flare, my eyes would throw flames if they could.
He delays a full minute or two, waiting, I guess, for me to carry the conversation. I’m not going to do that. This is on him.
“Neither of us can afford to develop feelings for each other. You said yourself we would be on Hyperion in less than a week.” His shoulders slump.
Here we are in the middle of this heavy conversation and a portion of my brain is ridiculously focused on the movement of dozens of perfectly-formed muscles shifting under the golden fur on his back. What I should be doing is focusing on the total rejection he is dishing at me right now.
“They are going to sell us off to the highest bidder. We’ll be separated from each other within hoaras of touchdown.” He finally turns to look at me. “Every moment I spend getting closer to you, Anya will just kill me a little more when they take you away from me.”
His face is a mask of misery.
I walk to him and place my palms softly on his chest. I feel the steady thrum of his heart. I could fall into those golden feline eyes and just live there forever. I stand on tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “We are going to fight them, Zar. We may win or we may die, but we are not being sold or separated on Hyperion.”
He stands perfectly still for what seems like minutes. His face gives nothing away, but I have a feeling his mind is running like a computer—calculating odds, comparing and contrasting alternate scenarios, and maybe, just maybe, consulting his heart.
He heaves a heavy sigh. “You are willing to die?” His brow lowers with the question.
“Yes.” I nod totally serious.
“I am willing to die, Anya. But you...” He adamantly shakes his mahogany-maned head. “I will not allow that. I will fight. I will convince my brother gladiators to fight. I will tear the Urluts apart with fangs and claws without any weapons at all if I must. I will do everything in my power to make this happen. But I will not participate unless you are safely in this cell.” He stubbornly points to the floor.
Whoa, I’ve never seen this look on his face before. It is fearsome! His handsome jaw is set and it’s clear he will brook absolutely no argument.
“That’s not fair, Zar. It’s my plan. I can’t ask you to risk your life while I’m eating bonbons in a safe room.”
“This is non-negotiable.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Non-negotiable.”
I rub my face, then start to pace—no small feat in such a tiny space. I never intended to sit back and watch as everyone but me risked their lives. Until a few days ago I worked in a call center for fuck’s sake! The bravest thing I’d ever done was fly down a zip line strapped with twenty pounds of safety rigging.
I don’t know who this Anya is, but I know she was born about twenty minutes after she woke up on this ship. And frankly, I like her. I don’t relish the idea of sitting this one out while the males risk their lives.
On the other hand, I don’t know how to fight. I don’t know how to shoot a gun, much less an alien version of one. Not to mention I’m slightly klutzy and not very strong. As I envision how all of this would go down, I can’t see myself as being a big asset to the team other than as an unqualified, not to mention ungainly, cheerleader.
I’m not totally useless, I remind myself. I have masterminded a lot of this. Tyree has definitely contributed a lot, and Zar has helped me run scenarios and strategize. But it’s mostly me who’s pulling all of this together. Maybe figuring this out and organizing it and yeah, maybe cheering everyone on is the best use of my talents. Besides, the timing of this has to be when the men are in the ludus, and I would be locked in here anyway.
“You’re right, dammit,” I grudgingly admit.
“Good, we won’t argue about this again,” he proclaims as if it is an edict from a king.
“You were ready to bail on us about ten minutes ago, weren’t you?”
“Bail?”
“Stop us from being a team?”
“I stand before you a strong warrior. I have faced things in battle you probably couldn’t imagine.” He takes a deep, heavy breath. “But losing you Anya...losing you would kill me.”
My heart slams in my chest. Zar just admitted his deep feelings for me. I’m not sure what to do with this information, but it makes me inordinately happy. I can’t wait for lights out when I can attack him.
Chapter Seven
Zar
I’m sparring in the ludus the next day when Captain Gren’s voice booms over the loudspeaker.
“We are being pursued by a Marauder pirate vessel,” his voice is tense and pressured. “They’ve come up on us fast and are ready for battle. Marauders are insane and bloodthirsty. They’ll fight to the death and take no prisoners.”
I’ve heard tales of the Marauders for many annums. Some
of the badly-scarred males who came to the ludus whispered of run-ins with these outlaws. Every time someone talks about them, the versions of their origins are different.
The story that makes the most sense is that somehow the inmates of Matrica II, the infamous prison planet, overthrew their guards and stole a docked freighter. The band of crazed sociopaths evidently grew, overthrew other prison planets, and now there are dozens, possibly hundreds of ships haphazardly roaming the galaxy in search of small vessels to attack. They board, kill and rape passengers and crew, then commandeer the ships.
From the tales I’ve heard, the lucky ones are killed then raped and not the other way around. I wonder if the whispers about cannibalism are true. Anya and the other females have no way of knowing any of this. If we’re overpowered, they will be completely vulnerable—awaiting a terrible fate.
At that moment, the ship heaves, clearly taking evasive maneuvers at high speed. Before I can think of my own safety, my thoughts veer to Anya. How can I possibly protect her?
One of the three Urluts guarding us rushes out of the ludus, I presume toward the bridge. The remaining guards are clearly on high alert watching all ten of us.
“Each of you face the wall. On your knees! Leave ten fiertos between you. Hands on the back of your heads,” Lurco orders. “We will kill anyone who makes a move.”
In this position, it’s hard not to fall every time the ship swerves sharply. I try to keep my center of gravity low. If I tip to the side, a trigger-happy guard will blast my head off.
I’m sure every other male here is worried about the Marauder attack and saving their own lives. I’m more worried about Anya than myself.
The ship veers sharply, then there’s the wrenching sound of metal tearing. As if there was any doubt, the captain’s clipped voice announces, “We’ve been hit. The hull’s been breached. I see dozens of Marauder heat signatures invading through the opening.”
“You’ve got to let us loose,” I shout over many voices exclaiming at once. “We’re trained fighters. Let us protect ourselves.” I quickly add, “And you.”
“Alright assholes, you have one chance.” Lurco is trying to keep command but sounds panicked. “Stand up if you’re willing to fight.”
All of us stand slowly, so they don’t get an itch to blast our collars.
“Don’t forget all any of us have to do is press a button and you’re all dead. Your task is to fight against the crazies. If you so much as make a move against one of the ship’s staff, we will kill you dead without asking a question. Got it?”
We all nod our heads, still facing the wall, waiting for his orders.
“Lurco,” the captain announces overhead, “give each gladiator a laser weapon from the armory. You men still have activated collars around your necks. You’re fighting for your lives here today. If you turn those guns toward any of this ship’s crew, we will blow your head off your shoulders. I hope my orders are understood.”
“Humberg,” the captain adds, “as soon as the men are armed, bring six of them to the bridge on the double. Lurco, take Helix and the other four slaves to the cell block.”
The Marauders are crazy, but they’re said to be fighting machines. They’ve already boarded our vessel, and are looking for fresh meat. We are definitely in for a nasty battle. I have no idea how many of them there are. But with ten gladiators, all armed with real weapons, we’ll put up a hell of a fight!
As Lurco gives the order to line up and march to the armory, Shadow sidles up to me. “This is the time, Zar!” he whispers. “Now is the time to wage our insurrection.” His eye is bright. He looks more alive than I’ve ever seen him.
“Are you crazy, Shadow? Our collars are active. We’d be waging war against two enemy factions, not only the ship’s staff but the Marauders as well. And the females! They would all be killed within minimas if we fight our captors now.”
“You’re soft, Zar. Your female has made you soft. I give absolutely no fucks about the female I share a cell with. Now is the time.”
“You’ve lost yourself, Shadow. You have so much hate in you that you can’t think straight. Even if you don’t care about anyone on this ship but yourself, your plan will not work. The collars, Shadow. We have to deactivate the collars or we’ll all be dead. Today we fight against the Marauders. Soon, soon we will fight the males of this ship.”
Shadow’s jaw clenches as he seems to be weighing my words. He has to see I’m right. He nods his head, almost imperceptibly, then gets in line.
Although I’ve been raised to fight since my first memory, I’ve only been trained in the gladiator weapons of old. There are many types of gladiators, each with its own weaponry and shields. My specialty is Murmillo. I fight in competition with an elongated shield and a three fierto double-edged sword. I’ve never even touched a weapon designed within the last two thousand annums.
Lurco’s lesson in using the laser blasters consists of no more than, “Point and shoot.” I don’t want to be overconfident, but there seems to be no art in this.
I have no idea how many bursts I can fire with one power pack, so I don’t know if my strategy should be to conserve energy, or just blast anything that moves. I think of Anya and know she must be frantic waiting helplessly in her cell. She’s trapped with nowhere to go. If the Marauders come upon her deck before we get to them, she’ll be raped or killed immediately.
“You six go with Humberg to the bridge,” Lurco orders. “You four, come with Helix and me to the cell block.”
My lucky day. I’m on my way to protect Anya.
Anya
Holy shit! Talk about being a sitting duck! Crap, here we are in our cells, open to the world with no protection. Even though the captain said these guys take no prisoners, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie like this where the attackers came on board and didn’t ravage the women.
Looking for something I can use as a weapon, I examine my bed a bit more closely and discover the platform is not made of springs. Of course not, that might have afforded a modicum of comfort. Under the thin mattress is one piece of solid metal welded to four sturdy legs. This might actually provide some protection when the Marauders come storming in. Only one problem, the damn thing is secured to the floor with inch-thick bolts. Can I not catch a break?
There is absolutely nothing in the cell but the bed, the thin blanket, the toilet, and a sink. The sink! I remember that the sink stopper thingy is removable, then go over to grab it. The top flange looks to be the correct size to use as a makeshift screwdriver. I fly over to the nearest leg of the bed and try my improvised method. Lo and behold it really fits and is unscrewing the bolts.
I scream at the top of my lungs, competing with the blare of the klaxons, “Ladies, unscrew your bed from the floor. Use the sink stopper. You can use your bed as a shield!”
I keep unscrewing as I hear my instructions being repeated down the line. This may just be busywork so we don’t freak about being zapped into char by the Marauders’ lasers, but it’s better than sitting still and biting my nails.
Zar
It takes forever to arrive at the cellblock thanks to these dracking Urluts. They’re so slow and ungainly we could move faster if we picked them up and carried them over our shoulders. I’m relieved to see the door hasn’t been breached. We’ve heard weapon fire elsewhere in the ship, so we must be arriving here just in time. I step into the corridor only far enough to see my Anya on hands and knees frantically working at releasing the bolts holding the bed to the floor.
“Anya,” I call to her and my heart squeezes in my chest when she lifts her head and smiles apprehensively at me. “We’ll protect you and the others.” Now that I’ve reassured myself she’s safe, I stride back to the only door into the cell block. I hear the enemy approaching down the connecting corridor and can no longer pretend to defer to the Urluts. I simply take over.
“Guards, release the cell doors. Have all the women, move to the end of the cell block.” They don’t resist my command, I
think they’re relieved to be following orders rather than giving them.
“Females, hurry to the far end of the hall,” I roar over the cacophony of horns and weapon fire.
“Dax. Steele, Stryker! Carry the beds back to them. Make a protective barrier between them and us.” The men fall in, quickly grabbing beds and hustling them to form a makeshift wall, all the women crouching behind the shield. I hear a few grunts as my men pull some partially-bolted beds out of the floor with sheer brute strength.
“They’re coming,” I shout. “Each male stay in a cell. Hide until the Marauders are all past the threshold.” I didn’t really have to order the Urluts to hide; they were already rushing to cower in the first cell. Great news, they can serve as a distraction to the enemy. While the Marauders are busy killing Lurco and Helix in the first cell, we can blast the bastards to hell.