Cosmic Captor

by Stella Cassy

  Suddenly, one huge dragon eye spies a form moving about in the lake down below. Somehow I know the swimmer is me. I can see my pale body cutting through the water with my long dark hair trailing in a long stream behind me. In the dream, I don’t see the determined dragon coming.

  I try to shout a warning, but nothing comes out. The dreamscape is a strange place that defies the laws of nature. One minute I’m looking down from above and the next cool is water lapping against my skin as I swim. A low deep roar splits the air. I look up just in time to see the huge creature bearing down on me. Unlike in real life, the advanced notice gives me time to get away. Diving deep to get away from him, I’m thrilled at my ability to avoid capture. Looking up, I see a huge dark shadow drifting silently across the top of the water. Somehow, I’m breathing under water and my legs have turned into two long fins. I twirl through the water, giggling and happy, as I make my escape.

  Waking the next morning to the clanking of the outer door being opened, I’m disappointed to find that it was all a dream. I’ve been captured by the dragon and my legs are still long delicate limbs that can’t take me any further than the bars will allow.

  Rubbing my eyes, I frown, realizing it’s the Drakon captain again. Trying not to act cross, I attempt a demure smile. His gaze turns suspicious. Damn, I’m not a morning person. Quickly running my fingers through my hair, I try to pull myself together.

  The dragon freezes, as he watches me handle my hair. I take my time, working the tangles out gently. I make a production of stretching; being sure to turn so he can see my breasts. If our last two encounters were any indication, he’s definitely a breast kind of guy. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I make a production of throwing my blanket off and sliding my legs off the side of the bed. My cheap tattered costume designed for seduction leaves very little to the imagination.

  “Good morning, Tarion of the Hielsrane.” He smiles slightly when I speak his name that way, clearly pleased that I am respectful of Drakon traditions.

  “I brought you more bedding, so that you might create a more comfortable nest.”

  Feeling pretty certain that nest means bed, I reach out and grab each folded blanket as he shoves them through the bars. He loiters around making small talk, which in turn makes me suspicious of his motivations. It’s often difficult to tell what he’s thinking from his expression. He wears what my mother referred to as a poker face, one that’s devoid of expression.

  The funny thing is, he keeps coming day after day. He brings me nice things to eat, a comb and even a set of long picks to hold my hair up. I don’t have to reason out why he never brings me clothing. It’s because the creep likes seeing all the skin my skimpy harlot’s costume provides. I know this because of the way he stares at my body. Each time he comes, we talk and I try to be engaging. Sometimes we talk so much, time gets away from us.

  As always I’m awake, refreshed and ready to spend time with him when he arrives. Since time has no meaning when you’re locked away in a place like this, I count my abductor’s visits instead of days. This is visit number nineteen, and he’s carrying a tall stack of round metal containers in one hand when he enters the room. They’re all clipped together with a handle on the top. Since eating utensils are stuck to the side, and it smells delicious, I assume its food. Yep, he’s on a mission to plump me up.

  He reaches that through the bars, his face totally blank. Unless I miss my guess, he regrets being so open about his childhood during our first conversation and has been overcompensating by hardly talking about himself. Over the last couple weeks I’ve regaled him with tales of my slavery at the hands of different species as well as my travels around the galaxy. He’s always alert and interested in me. Yet, he’s a complex guy. I have a gut feeling there is more than meets the eye is going on with him.

  “What’s all this?” It’s nearly as tall as I am. I can feel that the top one is warm.

  “I had my cook create some the foods my sire’s human likes best, feeling certain that you will find something you like.”

  “Wow, what a thoughtful gesture. Will you eat with me?”

  Rather than answer, he drops to his knees and sits in front of my cell with his tail curled into his lap like he always does. Instead of tight against his back, his wings are spread out in a relaxed position on either side of his muscular shoulders.

  It only takes me a second to figure out how the clasps work. Taking off a stack of three, I sit in front of him. Pulling off the top of the first one, I peer inside. “It looks like steamed vegetables.”

  “Try a bite. If you do not enjoy the taste, I will relieve you of the obligation of eating them.”

  He seems more comfortable around me and today he’s in an especially good mood. I can tell because there is less of stiff awkward posturing. He seems more relaxed, almost playful. It’s a good look for him. Grinning at him in spite of myself, I reply pleasantly, “That’s real sweet of you.”

  I grab a magnetic eating utensil from the side of the stack and dig in. Biting into a bright orange square piece of food, it gushes a tart liquid. “I like the taste, but I want to try something else.” I’m craving something sweet like never before.

  When he reaches out, I place the container in his hand and quickly pull another eating utensil from the stack for him to use. He dips his head in what appears to be a gesture of thanks.

  As I work my way down the stack, I find something resembling stir fry and pot noodles. We share them, along with two different kinds of fruit. One appears to be mixed nuts and the last two are desserts. Finally, I get to assuage my sweet tooth. Though my captor ended up eating most of the food, I ate more than I’ve ever eaten in my entire life.

  When we’re done, I shoot him a happy grin. “Thanks again for the food and the nice company, Tarion of the Hielsrane. I’ll bet if you ever had your own female, she’d the happiest one in the verse.”

  Snorting a laugh, he pulls one knee up and rests his arm on it. “Females have been few in my life.”

  “Most of your kind have arranged marriages, don’t you?”

  “Males my age living on our home world are certainly mated by now. My father attempted such with me several times but it didn’t work out.”

  “I can’t imagine why.” Naturally, I could well understand why after being threatened, bullied and slapped by him. Speaking about that, however, didn’t fit into my ongoing low-grade plan of seducing him.

  “Drakon females can be arrogant and judgmental.” Turning his face away, he continued, “They did not like the look of me in my fighting form.”

  “What does it matter what you look like in full battle dress? Battle armor seems like a strange thing for a woman to object to.”

  Turning back to me, his expression appears slightly amused. “I do not believe you would like me in my fighting form either, little human.”

  He’s holding back, not that I care one way or the other. Unsure why his battle gear would be so off-putting, I shrug. “I don’t care about what people wear. Drakon females are too picky.”

  His eyes regard me warmly. “I agree. They are too picky by far. Then again they can afford to be. There are far more warriors than females on my world. That means they can reject any of us over a perceived flaw. Unfortunately, after one female rejects us, others are all the more reluctant to give us a chance.”

  “It’s their loss. One day they’ll wake up and realize what they missed out on.”

  “That’s a gratifying thought, but I sincerely doubt they will regret missing out on me.”

  “You and I have something in common. No one really misses me either.”

  “How can you say such, when the reward for finding you is so large?”

  “They’re not paying to get me. Heck, they don’t even know me. Those slavers just want to sell me to someone for a huge profit. Whoever buys me won’t care about the real me either. All they’re going to be interested in is my uterus.”

  “The part of you that creates young?”


  Nodding, I continue. “You’re the only person who’s ever been interested in actually talking to me face-to-face. I’ve been a slave all my life and trust me, no one really cares.”

  “The Pax must be as ruthless as they are reputed to be.”

  “It’s not just the Pax, though I’ve been owned by them two or three times. I’ve also been owned by the Scargon, Karn and some insectoid race. I don’t know what to call them because they never worked out the translation piece. Everyone calls them insectoids. I know it doesn’t seem all that respectful, but I’m the last person to go around naming new species.”

  “If no one could understand them, how did they trade for you?”

  Sighing, I explain to the best of my ability what I saw at the time. “They used some ancient bartering system, where they showed pictures, and used red chits to represent thousand credit increments. It took forever to negotiate, but the Pax made out in the bargain. To the insectoids, I’m worth ten chits.”

  “That’s an outrageous sum, even for one as unique and beautiful as you. Do you know why they didn’t keep you?”

  “I would like to say it was because I couldn’t adapt to their ship, but that would be a lie. It was more because they couldn’t adapt to having me around. The ship had at least half a dozen types of insectoids and they all seemed to have their duties already established. They couldn’t seem to deviate from their regular routine long enough to teach me how to do anything. Even when I tried to join in, they swatted me away because I wasn’t doing it their extra special pre-established, and I suspect, ritualistic way.”

  “That’s fascinating. I’ve never met an insectoid.”

  “You’re not missing out on much. They didn’t appear to have vocal cords. Instead they vibrate their wings to create sounds. It worked out fine for them. They knew exactly what each other said. Me, not so much.”

  “I’m glad they put you back into circulation.”

  Something about that term fires my anger. “It blows my mind how easily you speak about the suffering of others. When you say things like put back into circulation, you need to understand what that really means. I was snatched up out of my sleep, bound and carried through the air by a huge bug that dug his claws into my shoulders. He dropped me back into the slave pits. I suppose you have a nice decontamination system consisting of bots or something like that. The slavers don’t have anything quite that modern. Instead they have handlers that cut my clothes off and hosed me down with some kind of high powered cleaning fluid that abraded my skin. They even pried my legs open and hosed down my privates. It was incredibly painful. I had a difficult time walking for several days afterwards. Think about that the next time you consider using a nice sanitized term like put back into circulation.”

  Closing my eyes, I feel sick to my stomach. Both for going off on the man I’m supposed to be seducing and at the remembrance of that horrible day. It is in my top five most awful days so far.

  “They wouldn’t have done that if they’d known you were a true brooder.”

  “Yea, because slaves are only valuable if they can fuck or make babies for anyone with enough credits to purchase us, right?” When he didn’t respond, I continued. “All the other slaves aren’t real people, so you can beat them, starve them or sell them to anyone in the verse. When you’re on the top looking down, you can’t ever see how unfair and horrible the whole system really is. I wish every single being in the verse could spend just one day as a slave. Then they’d understand how wrong it is.”

  Nodding, his expression was deeply perturbed. “You give me much to think about, human.”

  I wanted to scream at him that I had a name and that he should use it, but I didn’t because I’d already gone way too far. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that on you.”

  “I am perpetuating your humiliation and abuse. Who better to bear your anger than me?” His voice was calm, low and unemotional.

  Sighing, I feel myself tearing up. “You’re probably a good choice because you couldn’t care less about my situation.”

  “Is that what you truly think of me?”

  “Why would I think anything different?” Standing, I clip all the containers back together and shove them through the bars of the hell hole that I’m starting to think of as my new home. Turning my back, I wrap my arms around my midsection and try not to cry.

  “You wish me to leave, do you not?”

  “I would like to be alone for a bit.”

  “As you wish.”

  I can hear him picking up the stack of metal containers and his footsteps as he walks out of the room. The moment the outer door slams shut, I slide to my knees. I’m finally cracking, just when I need to be strong the most. Truth be told, I no longer feel like flirting with the ruthless bastard. Feelings of hopelessness overwhelm me and it seems like the walls are closing in around me. He’s the enemy. I will repeat that to myself many times before the day it out.

  6

  Limited Freedom

  ~ Tarion ~

  I’ve left my new slave to her own devices for a few days. Our last conversation left me thinking that perhaps she did not understand how interplanetary trade works. Individuals who could not or would not provide for themselves were taken as slaves. Only in most alien languages the word meant some variation of responsibility, meaning someone had to take responsibility for them. Often these individuals who could not provide for themselves had to be forced to earn their keep once a responsible party stepped in. Naturally, one could not always have it their own way once they were under the care of another.

  Not being totally ignorant, I knew that was how the system was supposed to work but it rarely happened that way. What Carissa referred to as slave pits were actually huge underground holding areas where traders came to acquire and relieve themselves of responsibility. The holding areas were located underground to take advantage of the protection from heat and foul weather. It was the best type of environment for both caretakers and those in their care.

  Still, it bothered me greatly that she had been abused.

  She was correct that all beings had worth, but unfortunately some were worth more than others. Even among my family, there is a strict hierarchy of importance. As the oldest and most experienced, my sire is the most important member of our family. One would think that as his eldest son, I might be second in importance. However, that is not the case. After failing to attract a mate, I have been dropped from consideration as an heir, since I am not destined to continue our line. Failure to attract a mate did not mean exile, but I am now a social outcast among my people. I’m the one who had every advantage and failed.

  Still, it bothers me not at all. I am happy to compete with my father for riches and territory. In truth I’m virtually the only real competition the poor man has. We both enjoy our little grudge matches. Just three solar revolutions ago, the old buzzard fleeced one of my mini-freighters of a load of foodstuffs. But that was fine. I dropped down behind him the next solar and fired on his rear engines, costing him more in repairs than the foodstuffs were worth. Hearing him sound off furiously on the communi-channels for all the verse to hear was more than a little gratifying. Good times, they are.

  My mind drifts back to the female sitting in my hold. I learned that Carissa has been in service for many years. Slaves that suffered hard use are often bitter and broken. Humans often don’t last long under harsh conditions. However, this beauty seems not only to have born it with incredible resilience, she’s still got fire in her gut and enough courage to speak her mind. Her battle marks are both numerous and gorgeous. I am especially fond of the scar running down the side of her throat. It makes her look fierce. Those scars set her apart from other females, marking her as a strong survivor. No doubt some of them were even acquired when she was but a youngling.

  I like that she’s been tested by the worst the verse has to throw at her and endured. I imagine the quality of young she will brood will be amazingly strong if she is chosen by a true warrior. True warriors
were made for true brooders, meaning all others should step aside. Warriors are the strongest of all males and true brooders are superior to all other females because of their ability to breed with so many species. Though no warrior in his right mind would lend out his brooder to another male, having lured a true brooder marks even a warrior out as elite among others of his kind.

  Lehar’s impatient voice interrupts my internal musings. “Sir, I asked if we are still a go for the extraction.”

  Abruptly brought back to the task at hand, I nod. “Yes. Begin with Extraction Team One and release each of the remaining teams every fifty intervals until they are all in position. No matter what happens we stick to the plan.”

  “Understood. Team One away, sir.”

  “I’ve decided that after our current mission is concluded, we’re going to take shore-leave on one of the pleasure planets.”

  “What about collecting the bounty on the human brooder?”

  “I’m considering whether to keep her.”

  “Keeping her is a good choice, sir. I was thinking of spending my mating dowry on purchasing her from the Pax once she was returned safe and sound.”

  Among the Drakon, females are scarce. Ones capable of brooding are truly rare. Only one in a million Drakon females are true brooders in that they are capable of carrying young for many species. If a warrior wants a true brooder, he practically has to be a wealthy raider to afford one. All other Drakon males are left to save every credit they earn early in their lifespans to pay a mating dowry. If no can be found among the Drakon, the dowry is used to purchase a companionable female from among the many species who trade with the Drakon. I can easily understand why, Lehar is interested in my brooder.