by Fiona Jayde
The metal around us makes clanking and clunking noises, the pressure builds outside the ship. My ears pop. “Can you read the depth gauge?”
Thomasina taps at the gauge in front of her and shakes her head. “Not working.”
“Shit.”
“What do we do?” John asks, his voice full of panic. I try not to be too irritated with him. Bert was his best friend. They’d worked together for years.
He’s in shock, I remind myself. Still, the sniffles and sobs are starting to get under my skin. We need to focus on our own survival right now, and I need him to snap out of this long enough for us to figure everything out.
What could be pulling us down? A whirlpool? Unlikely. And if we get sucked down too far, how long can we last before the pressure of the ocean crushes our vessel into a tiny block of steel?
I pace, thinking. Thomasina and John are watching me, waiting for me to save them. I run my hands through my hair. I can’t think of a way out. We have no control, no escape route, no chance of survival. It’s an impossible situation. I feel like I’m constantly screwing things up.
In desperation, I turn to Thom. “Try the engine again.”
Thom spins in her chair. Our silence is punctuated with her movements and the ever-increasing thuds as the pressure builds outside.
“Nothing.”
“Can you move the rudder?”
“No. It’s like the whole ship is dead.”
Suddenly, something massive rams into us, sending me flailing hard into John. We’re a twisting mess of limbs. My forehead cracks against the metal grating of the floor, and shooting pain rips through my cranium. I turn my eyes to check on Thom who looks to have grabbed the controls to steady herself. She’s a petite thing, easily bruised, and I can’t help worrying about her.
Good thing she was in her chair.
Something wet and sticky slides down my temple. I blink and pat at it, pulling back to discover bright, red blood. I wipe it away as John tries to disentangle himself from me.
“What was that?” he asks as he grabs my arm, giving me a concerned look when he notices the blood. I try to reassure him with a smile, but it feels like a grimace. Killer pain splices my skull as I slowly rise on unsteady feet, checking for more injuries. Just the cut and little else. Nothing feels broken, anyway. I check John for injuries, but he seems fine even though his face is puffy, his eyes swollen from grief.
“Captain, your forehead.” Thom moves to help me, but I wave her away.
“We’ll deal with it later. We need to figure out what hit us and if it did damage to the hull.”
“I don’t know.” Thom flicks one of the screens as it fizzles out of commission. “There’s no way we hit the bottom. We would be crushed to death first. We’ve already scanned this whole area, and the depths are far beyond what this submarine can handle.”
“Try the controls again,” I order.
Thomasina tries again and looks up at me in shock. “They’re working.”
Hope flares bright like a flickering flame pushing back against the darkness. We’re going to be okay. I just know we are. I take a step and pause when my knees nearly give out.
Crap. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. “Surface the ship. Right now.”
Thomasina works the controls. “Aye, Captain,” she says.
We may be resurfacing to a nasty storm, but I want us as far away from this undertow—whatever the hell had hold of us—before we dive again and go looking for the probe.
“Any communication?”
Thom shakes her head. “Negative, Captain, but if we can surface, maybe we can fix the antenna.”
I nod, hoping against hope that this nightmare can somehow turn into a miracle of survival. The minute Thom gets us clear and surfaces, we head toward the ladder.
“Maybe I should go first,” she says, critically eyeing the cut above my left eyebrow. “We don’t need you falling over the railing with how unsteady you are on your feet.”
She’s probably right, but I’m the captain, and I can’t stand the thought of staying behind when a potential crisis lurks ahead. I need to know she is safe, and I can’t know that for certain unless I go first.
“You follow behind me. If I start to sway, just grab my back and hold me steady. All we really need to do is open the hatch a bit to ascertain weather conditions.”
The sub-pod should have become more unstable the higher we descended, but it feels as if we’re floating in calmer waters now. Thom doesn’t seem to like it, but I push past her anyway. I’m not losing another member of my crew if I can help it.
The first thing I notice when I open the hatch is a strange, sickeningly sweet aroma that smells like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The second thing I notice is clear, night skies and what looks like…an enormous, golden sphere overhead. It’s clearly the source of the dim lighting for the planet, sending out golden tendrils of wispy brilliance that entwine within the thin fog floating just above the sea. Yet it isn’t the moon I’ve come to know and love. I blink in surprise and push wide the hatch, stepping up and out as I stare at the thing in utter bewilderment.
Not the moon. Definitely not the moon.
Thom joins me and comes to an abrupt halt as she notices what I’m staring at.
“What the actual fuck?” she says.
Yep. That’s exactly what I’m thinking.
I am patrolling the waters during the moon times. The night air soothes the burning in my horns. It’s an endless torment I know I’ll never escape. I’m not meant to escape. This punishment is as eternal as the hatred that burns bright within my chest. I suck in a deep breath, trying to convince myself that dwelling on the past, on what was stolen from me, cannot benefit me in this moment. Survival is key until I can afford to purchase my ship and make my way off this cursed planet. I’ll eventually avenge my father and mete out my revenge on those who deserve it most. My horns may burn forever, but I’ll make certain those who betrayed me are condemned to wander this life and the great beyond without a mate to ease their suffering, to lessen their burning, or bring them respite.
I begin to steer my vessel—one I took from those cursed Chassaks just last night—out toward deeper water. I am far from my cave, but it can’t be helped. Stealing this vessel was necessary to further my own plans, and stealing a slaver vessel was even more satisfying. I have very little respect for a species who trades in flesh.
Or for the very same species who assassinated my father and killed off every female on Elysius.
I am out here due to migration shifts among the sea urchins. After four long solar orbits of exile on this planet, I know the migration patterns of many living creature within its depths. My survival depends on it. There has been a bit of unrest within these waters as of late. The sea creatures scatter too easily. Hunting for food takes longer than normal. It’s as if the sea creatures have scattered to parts unknown.
Since I must do most of my hunting within this area, I am inclined to uncover the cause of my dwindling food source—and any potential threats—at night when Chassak ships are less likely to be patrolling and discover my whereabouts. I can easily handle one or two of those barbaric churtnas, but a swarm of them will be too much for me.
I am not too prideful to admit this. I know my limits. A warrior always does, and if I am to continue to survive undetected on this hellish planet, I must remain hidden until my plans for leaving this place come to fruition.
The first moon of Draioch is just beginning to rise when I see a ship bursting forth out of the water. I am immediately intrigued. It is different from other ships I have seen on this planet. Different from Chassak ships, for certain. It’s shiny, black metal glints against the golden light of the first moon. It reminds me of the abreeza, the metal used to form Elysium swords. I clench my hand, nearly reaching for the smooth, firm hilt of a weapon I no longer possess, a weapon stripped from me by the Elysium Council.
An Elysium Warrior’s sword is gifted to him at his B
eginning, his transition from a young Elysium-in-training to a soldier. To have it stripped from me was simply the council’s attempt at further humiliation, but I did not succumb. I did not bend or break. I did not swear fealty to Derwag, the churtna scum.
I steer my boat to a large reef and coast along behind it, peering through its many holes to stare at the strange craft. I don’t want to be detected, but I have to investigate this possible threat to my territory. As I maneuver closer, I see a door pop upward at the top of the ship. Two figures climb out, looking above them as if they are startled.
Females.
I nearly jump out of my own scales at the shock of seeing them. I wonder if the burning within my horns has become so great I’ve hallucinated females unattended by other males. My pulse starts to race. My horns swell as if they will burst. I have not seen females of this kind before, but even from a distance, I can see their hips and breasts silhouetted by the moonlight, so very similar to Elysium females in their shape and size. Plus, I can smell them on the wind. They are…fertile…and…unmated.
Unbelievable.
My horns nearly stand on end at this scintillating revelation, the base of them burning hot. I know they are turning bright red, signaling my desire to mate. I’ve never felt such a strong pull before, and I can’t help but wonder if this is due to my many solar orbits of celibacy on this planet…or perhaps it is something else.
Impossible.
True bondings are nearly unheard of with other species. My chances of finding a bond mate were lost when our females began to died off just before I was exiled here. I grit my teeth, trying to fight back the rage and hopelessness I feel. My mother and sister, gone within days. There was simply no time to find a cure and no way to stop the rest of our females from becoming infected. I blink back the purple haze of battle rage and try to focus on this recent turn of events.
These females did not come here of their own volition. No female would ever choose to be here on purpose, and they were not brought here for me. My exile requires that I never enjoy the pleasure of a bed partner’s company again or find a bond mate for the future—not that there was much chance of that. It is why I was placed here on Draioch—this beautiful but isolated planet—with no females. I am expected to live my life here, alone, with the endless pounding of unquenched desire in my horns and in my loins.
Females from other species who actually do arrive on this planet are here for merely one day, maybe two, before being sold on the dark market to the highest bidders, and they are heavily guarded until then. There are no Chassak females on this planet, either. Chassaks do not bring their females to their occupied territories. They are restricted to their home-world for reasons I do not know. So even if I would stoop to fucking a Chassak, which I would not, the option is not available.
Such are the ways of Chassaks. For the most part, they are a vile species, using this isolated planet to handle some of their dark market business dealings. Had the Elysium Council known I would not be here alone, I do not think they would have stranded me here. They would have found another deserted planet to abandon me on.
I am lucky the Chassak vermin arrived two solar orbits ago since their own dark market dealings are the only hope I have of escaping this planet. I keep myself hidden, biding my time until I am able to pay for the space vessel I need. Though there is no love lost between our species, these creatures are easily persuaded to look the other way out of greed. I know exactly the type of currency that moves them the most, and on this planet, one can find such currency, but it takes time and much effort. The process is not an easy one, neither is it safe.
The idea of slowly picking the Chassaks off one-by-one is more than enticing, it rides my dreams and sends my battle rage into a frenzy when I consider my father, mother, and sister dead at their hands, but common sense always prevails. If I attack, I will most assuredly be discovered and killed before I mete out my own revenge.
Unacceptable.
But now… these creatures…these females have arrived, most likely by mistake. I slide my extra eyelids into place and pick up even more detail with my improved vision. Their skin looks soft and smooth. No scales. They are definitely not Chassaks. My horns roar with need and desire. I direct my boat along the backside of the reef, planning to follow behind its cover all the way around the inlet until I am within fifteen rivas of them. Then I will use the cloaking device on this vessel to approach them unobserved. The dim lighting of the first moon does not offer me enough visibility this far out, and I wish to look upon their features without being discovered.
I must also be within distance for my pull to work. I do not wish to use force. It is abhorrent of an Elysium Warrior, but I will use my pull to persuade them. They will feel it and know I am safe. They will come to me of their own volition, but if they see me before they are in range of my pull, they will most assuredly retreat. I cannot, even now, bear the thought of it. If they are available, I will not miss my chance.
I pull up nearby and wait for a moment, watching to see if they can detect my movements, but they seem to be completely distracted by whatever it is they find so fascinating in the night sky. I activate the ship’s cloaking device and slowly steer out from behind the reef, inching my way closer to their large, oval ship. I pull up to the port side and remain there, taking in the dented hull and primitive design. It is a wonder they survived an underwater voyage. Their ship appears to be critically damaged.
My eyes are then drawn to the females who look exhausted, as if they haven’t slept in days. I can see that one of them is injured. A red substance oozes from the side of her head, and a surprising urge to go to her and ascertain that she will recover astounds me with its intensity. Have I truly been without female companionship for so long? Even after all my many experiences with females, none have provoked in me such a protective response. The substance covers the left side of her face, the gash along her head appears wide and painful. I see her sway on her feet and nearly jump from my vessel to hers to prevent her from falling overboard, but the other female grabs her, wrapping an arm around her waist and speaking to her in a language I’ve never heard before, but I’m surprised to discover I can easily understand.
“You shouldn’t be up here. We need to get you back inside and figure out if you have a concussion.” This black-haired girl has a pleasant voice, and I find myself grateful for the translator bud embedded behind my ear. All Elysium Warriors are given one during their First Rites, but mine was destroyed as part of my exile. Lucky for me, I was able to “borrow” one from my many scouting excursions and inject it behind my ear. I’ve never seen nor heard of this particular species before. It’s evident the Chassaks must have come into contact with them at some point. Otherwise, this language, whatever it is, would sound like utter gibberish.
“Thom, we have zero time for that right now. We’ve got an unknown object hovering above us, and it sure as hell ain’t our moon. Either Earth’s being invaded by strange alien life or we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.”
I fail to understand the meaning of that last bit, but it doesn’t matter. I’m wholly distracted by the affect her voice has on my entire body. A purple haze mists over my eyes, my horns unfurl, standing straight atop my head, and I suspect, based on my physiological response, based on the sensual way that voice hits every nerve along my body, that my horns aren’t turning red like they would to demonstrate a normal mating signal. I believe they are turning black.
It should be an impossibility, but I hurriedly rush to the cabin of my vessel, looking for any item with a reflective surface that will either confirm my hopes or dash them to pieces. I find a flat, metallic plate used for eating and hold it up, angling it toward my horns. All the while, the female’s voice continues to carry to me over the soft ocean breeze, making my horns and cock stand at attention. The metal plate reflects a slightly blurry picture, but the color is undeniable.
My horns are black.
This female is mine. My bond mate…or will be on
ce I take her from here, dress her wounds, and use my pull to call her to me. That I would find my bond mate is a rare and beautiful gift I didn’t think possible. That I would find her among an entirely different species is all the more wondrous since bond mates have only ever been found within the Elysium race.
I quietly set the plate down and move back to the deck, aching to rest my eyes upon her again.
“I don’t think that antennae is going to do us much good here. Why bother even checking it?” This woman is trying to urge my female back into the ship. I am grateful for her concern, but it would be best if I took over from here. I can heal her properly within the safety of my cave.
Our cave.
Our home.
This night I will spend it with my bond mate. The base of my horns feel as if they will burst from my skull.
My female gives her friend another terse shake of her head before turning to inspect some kind of stick that comes off the top of the ship, poking and prodding at it as if it is the key to their very survival.
It takes me more power of will than I have ever demonstrated to stop myself from scooping her into my arms and attending to her injury. This bright, red substance must be important. It cannot be good for her to lose as much as she has. She climbs up a side ladder and starts tinkering with this stick. I bite back a growl, wishing she would take better care of herself. This is foolhardy at best. One slip of her foot and she’ll go tumbling into the water’s depths, most likely hitting her head on the ship in the process.
She stands at the top and surveys the area, her short hair is ruffled slightly by the night’s breeze. I am momentarily mesmerized by the female’s hair. It is a deep brown, shiny in the bright light, even more so now that the planet’s second moon is rising. With the fog seeping around the base of this vessel, she looks like a vibrant goddess.
The female turns her head upward, looking at the golden moon above.
“This is by far the most bizarre thing I have ever experienced.” She turns her head and looks in my direction. Her eyes widen in surprise, and I worry she can see past this cloaking device. I know absolutely nothing concerning her species’ abilities.