Taken to Voraxia

by Elizabeth Stephens

  “You deceived me!” Bo’Raku shoots from his seat and his boot thrusts forward as if he means to attack, though at the last moment, he refrains. Xok, how I wish he had. If he had come at me, I’d have had every reason to defend my own honor. No shame would be found in my slow removal of his head from his body. There would be only him, on the floor, dead. No tribunal needed.

  I slam my fist on the arm of my werro throne. “You engage in intergalactic treaties without consorting with your Raku and dare accuse me of deception? There is only one way to know how much Rhorkanterannu would be willing to pay for a human female.

  “You have engaged Kor’s king, usurping my authority and making the whole of Voraxia appear weak to one of our most dangerous enemies. This alone is enough to warrant your title stripped. But that you also dare offer up Voraxian-born hybrids like your Rakukanna to slavery is enough for me to challenge you for your life.”

  The black in my ridges consumes my sight, so that the world is filtered through a sharp, yet grey veil. It has never behaved in such a way before. But perhaps, until now, I have never known true anger. The terrifying desire to pluck his eyes out of his skull and break his bones piece by piece. I want him to hurt. To feel limitless pain. The desire comes on so strong, it feels like a fresh agony.

  The haze of the black darkens in a flash and when it lifts, I am on my feet and though Bo’Raku is not dissimilar in size, I am larger now. Taller. Fuller. More imminent. I tower over him and I am left to wonder, is this the Xanaxana’s strength? Another way in which my Xiveri mate honors me, even if she never intended it.

  A deep rumbling flows from my chest, the Xanaxana’s protective urge fighting to be unleashed. And desperate now to be nearer to my Rakukanna. To my Miari. Where is she? It has been three solars. Three too many. I had been angry and had wanted to honor her with the ceremony, but now she is being threatened by one of my own xub’Rakus and I need her by my side. Nox. Wait. Honor her. My vow. Tonight.

  “Bo’Raku,” I exhale shakily, fighting for an elusive calm. “You dishonor yourself with each word. The pain you and your Bo’Raku before you have brought onto the human colony is horrific and yet, because the females have not been fledged, I cannot call this a crime.

  “That you conspire with the Niahhorru in the shadows where your Raku and the other xub’Rakus cannot see, is treason. Combined, your dishonor and this treason are more than enough to call for your title unless there is but one among the xub’Raku who would speak for you. If there is, then they should do so now.”

  The room is utterly silent. Beside me, I can hear Xa’Raku’s heavy breathing. Her ridges swirl red and black, emotions mirroring mine and cropping up across the brows of all of the other xub’Raku in the room.

  I look them each in the eyes while Bo’Raku sits perched on the edge of his stool, trembling with what can only be interpreted as the basest anger, but the chamber is silent and in that silence, I have my verdict.

  “I hereby strip you of your title and responsibilities. When you leave this chamber, you are no longer Bo’Raku. You are once again Pe’ixal. All will know your slave name in Voraxia. You will not be honored at the ceremony of the Rakukanna. And you will not interact with any of the eleven dignitaries of the Quadrant Four constellations.

  “If it is so much as suggested that you speak with Rhorkanterannu while he shows himself to honor the Rakukanna, then it will cost you more than your planet. Much more.”

  Bo’Raku opens his mouth as if to dare challenge me here, now. I roar, “What has been spoken this span is final. You are dismissed, Pe’ixal. Leave me with the xub’Raku now to determine your fate.” If you shall live.

  Pe’ixal shudders and his ridges flash a sallow green before flaring a murderous red. His plates lift from his chest and I clench my hands to fists at my side, begging that he should advance.

  Come to me, Pe’ixal. Dishonor yourself further so that I might tear you apart with teeth and talons. But he doesn’t. Reason wins out and in the final moment, Pe’ixal pivots on his heel and heads to the narrow entrance to the war room.

  His presence triggers the sensor, as it will this final time. Already, I see Xhen’Raku activating her life drive and tapping away on the holo screens, issuing my edict so that all of Voraxia may know the former Bo’Raku’s crimes.

  I resume my seat and exhale. My chest is heavy. Each breath thickens the air in my lungs. “My honored xub’Raku. The appearance of these humans and hybrids in our constellation can only be seen as a blessing. Your Rakukanna is testament to that. I encourage you all to join us this evening in celebration of the humans’ strength and their offering to Voraxia.

  “This offering is far greater than their capacity for breeding. To assume as much is to assume the same primitive, backwards thinking of the Dra’Kesh ancestors, whose vanity and pride led to their near ruin. Had they not been absorbed by the Voraxian nations of old, they would certainly have perished.

  “Pe’ixal imbues the idiocy of this Dra’Kesh pride now, projecting his small-mindedness onto the humans. In my short time knowing them, these beings have shown only fortitude, ingenuity, bravery and resilience above all else. An intelligent species, they are not to be underestimated.

  “Because they are a physically inferior species, we need to take care in our interactions with them. Their pacts are not to be trusted, for they are often made out of fear. A fear instilled in them by Bo’Raku and the Dra’Kesh who too make up this constellation. It will take time for us to earn their trust.”

  My throat tightens as I think to my own Rakukanna. My Miari. How desperate I am for her to trust me. I do not know how to broker that trust, but I know now one thing above all others: I must not trade for it. I must earn it.

  Across the room from me, Islu’Raku says, “What interaction do you expect us to have with these humans, my Raku?”

  “Lemoria has already been tasked with preparing a detailed medical diagnosis of both hybrid and human alike. She will be recruiting members for a medical team that will travel to the human settlement to ensure that no more fertile female or youngling lives are lost — human or hybrid.

  “As for the Hunt, my Rakukanna will be preparing and agreeing on a new pact with the humans directly. One that will benefit both Voraxian and humans alike. This pact will not be a forced pact.”

  Islu’Raku bows her head and I inhale a lungful of air at the orange that sweeps her ridges then. “Is there another who wishes to speak?”

  The room is silent. I rise. “Then let us begin our preparations for the festivities. Xhen'Raku and Xa’Raku. As outlined in the xub’Raku edict, I expect that the two of you will work together to manage Bo’Raku’s leadership until a Dra’Kesh or Voraxian challenges for the title.” They nod. I nod. “You are dismissed.”

  One-by-one, my xub’Raku exit the room until there is but one who remains. “You will tell me what troubles you, Xa’Raku.”

  Xa’Raku stands, the long strands of her dark hair tangling in the wind that my body creates when I rise at her side. Here, she meets my gaze squarely and my mind flashes again to my Rakukanna. How I love to look down on her. Her slight stature makes me feel even more like she is something needing my protection. But she does not want it. And she does not want me. And even though I celebrate her tonight, she will never wish to be bound to me as I am already bound to her. Irrevocably.

  I wince at the thoughts and allow my mind to focus on my most trusted advisor before me. She bows slightly. “My Raku, I am troubled. You show a restraint I can only some solar hope to possess. Now, however, I desire to make a second motion, one in favor of Pe’ixal’s exile to the Fifth Quadrant. He holds sacred knowledge of the coordinates to the human moon. Without his planet, his title, or his honor, he cannot be trusted not to sell this information to the Niahhorru. The humans are vulnerable on their moon without a Voraxian fleet to protect them.”

  I feel my plates lift and shudder. So focused on removing Bo’Raku from his title, I had failed to consider the implications. What
would a dishonorable male do in the face of his public shame?

  I snarl, “The humans will be fledged Voraxian. Each given a life drive. In this way, any who dare to cross them will know that they are protected. An act against one will be an act against all of Voraxia.”

  She nods again and says, “I worry that the need for breeding females among the Niahhorru will be greater than their desire not to start a war with us. Our fleet is bigger, but Kor is an important intergalactic trading port between Quadrants. It is not possible to destroy Kor without wounding our reputation and our relationships with Third and Second Quadrant leaders and traders, and we rely on these for some of our key energy sources. For example, we on Thrax cannot source the Droherion needed to power the ion turbines of our deep sea habitats without Kor.”

  “Xok,” I curse, but only because Xa’Raku is familiar to me and we are alone. I run my hand back over my hair and curse more profoundly. “You will meet with Islu'Raku and Xhen'Raku upon leaving the war room and tell them that they are to station two warships in proximity of the human settlement.

  “Do not contact the humans directly, for they will likely not understand and there is no reason to alarm them if there is no threat. This solar and the coming, I will spend with my M…my Rakukanna,” I quickly correct and I balk at the thought that I nearly called her by her slave name in Xa’Raku’s presence. “But on the following, we will meet with you to discuss a course of action with the humans. I trust your judgment on this matter.”

  “You honor me, my Raku. I believe that protecting the humans will only serve Voraxia well. All of our planets benefit from mingling with new species. Particularly given Voraxia’s declining birth rate. It was not so long ago that the Xa’Raka and I lost our own Xa’Ka. I fear that the same breeding sickness that claimed the Niahhorru finds its place in our federation.”

  “Hexa, this is feared.”

  “And the humans bring us something more important than younglings. The humans bring hope. They must be protected. It would be my honor to help my Raku and my Rakukanna do so.”

  I bow, more deeply this time as she fills me with a strange pride that I am sure would turn my ridges a brilliant orange had I not the mastery to control them. As it is, I stand stoic and give her another slight nod when she rises from her responding bow.

  “Then it is done. In two solars’ time, before you return to Thrax, we will discuss the human settlement, Pe’ixal, and any threats that we may face on either front. But for now, I must go.”

  Xa’Raku’s flurry with swift, decisive colors that match the pleasure that’s claimed the corners of her mouth.

  “Hexa,” she says, “Your Rakukanna waits for you.”

  13

  Raku

  The xamxin river has dimmed, so the fires rage bright. We are in the Shorashora Valley, one of the few places where the werro trees grow sparse, allowing for an unihibited view of the stars.

  Chill filters down from the sky and swirls against the pale sands, but the fires that sit in enormous screa rock basins are enough to fight against it.

  I sit in the high-backed werro throne familiar to me, for it is the one that I occupy anytime the Voraxian people celebrate. The last celebration was for the Xanaxana mating of Ixria to Ku’Rohru in the last half rotation.

  It was a beautiful ceremony, but one that filled me with a an envy I was ashamed of, reminding me of what I had left behind on the human moon. Now that hate is gone, all that is left is a hollowness in my chest where my two hearts should thrum, a cold, fearful ringing beside it.

  I have never experienced nerves such as these before. My toes, which are bare, burrow beneath the dusty white sand. I glance, not for the first time, at the empty seat beside me. It was constructed one rotation ago. Right upon my return from the human moon. And when I visited it for the very first time, I felt a similar sensation then as I do now. A pressure. A heat. A lust. A burn. Where is she?

  Voraxians mingle with the Dra’Kesh who were selected to enjoy the trip to their capital. It was a random selection of Dra’Kesh — as was the selection on every planet — to ensure that not only the wealthy who are able to afford seats on a passenger ship were able to travel.

  I am pleased now to see the blue, purple, grey, red, green, orange and the other jeweled skin tones of Voraxians of all kinds glimmering amongst one another as my people meet and mingle and honor one another as they will honor their Rakukanna in mere moments. Where is she? She should be here by now…

  For a moment, a surge of panic grips me as I imagine that she tried again to escape with another one of her contraptions, like that which she built on the ship. I have heard from the reports sent to me each span that she requested to meet with Tri'Herion again. Meeting with him two times in three solars?

  Perhaps she seduced him. Perhaps he gave her the tools needed to escape. I would not know. For I see only who she has visited, but not what they discussed. I did not want to violate her privacy, but perhaps I should have. For her own safety, I tell myself, though that is a lie. It is to assuage the gnarling copper jealousy that threatens to spill over my ridges and consume my whole body.

  My gaze sweeps the crowd and pins Tri'Herion. He makes the pleasure expression and sound as he speaks with one I do not know by name or face. I feel black bloodlust grip me, but force it from affecting my ridges — and then I hear the drums…and it all falls away.

  The many hundreds of Voraxians in the sand and stone valley split, as a hammer against rock. Silence reigns, all except for the drums.

  I sit higher in my throne and glance at the empty space to my left. Smooth werro root defines a narrower bench, but a back as high as my own. We are equal. Not yet, but we will be. Just a few more moments…

  The Dra’Kesh and Voraxian drummers emerge from around a copse of werro trees at the far end of the valley. They look so small from here, but my hearts catch when I glance my Rakukanna’s red skin flashing between them.

  Bare.

  Entirely bare from the top of her crown to the slit between her thighs, to her ten alien toes. She is utterly nude as she approaches. The glimmer of her skin beneath the star and firelight becomes more defined the closer she comes to me until soon I can make out the dark peaks dotting her heavy chest mounds, and the definition of the soft muscles lining her arms and stomach.

  I hear surprised murmuring among the few younglings in the crowd, though otherwise, there is only a reverent hush. The drummers peel to the sides, moving towards the screa fire basins hanging from werro branches that mark the perimeter of the valley where the hundreds of Voraxians now cluster.

  This leaves only me, clothed in my throne, and my naked Rakukanna standing in the center of so much white sand. She looks at me and our eyes meet and I can feel the hold I have on my ridges threatening to break. I feel nothing but a possessiveness and a pride that floods every single inch of my Xaneru. It grips me with a ferocity I could not shake if I wanted to.

  She watches me with an expression I cannot place, but she looks…so strong. So ferocious. And still so vulnerable as she waits, alone, for her Xiveri mate to join her.

  I rise and she tracks me with her gaze. Her red skin glows hot beneath the fire, but her nipples bud the closer to her I come. My xora comes alive under her gaze and I make no move to quell its urge as it punches against the underside of my ceremonial coverings — there would be no point.

  With her hair twisting in the light breeze carried to us from the stars, she is the most beautiful female this universe has ever beheld and I’d be damned to find another to prove me otherwise.

  I am arms’ distance from her now and inhale in a sweeping breath. Ranxcera blossoms in full bloom assault me in a dose that could only be described as lethal.

  My head swims with the scent, and with the one that rides right on its heels. Jujji berries. Something darker. Saltier. More intense. Is she…is this her cream? Is she excited by my presence? Even if her mind does not want to be, I wonder if the Xanaxana within her chest cannot help but be.r />
  My xora stiffens to stalyx and I know that she sees it. Her gaze swims over my chest, settling on my heavy belt before dropping finally to the raised material where my xora fights to be nearer to her. The edges of her lips lift in a pleasure expression and I am shocked at the sight, given how our last conversation ended. Me, saying everything, her, utterly quiet.

  Shock buries me further when my Rakukanna takes to her knees. Though this is a traditional part of the ceremony, I never anticipated how it would feel standing above her while she looks up at me, the cascade of her curls falling softly over her back.

  She looks like a prize kneeling there in the sands. And I feel unworthy.

  “Raku, doth hero Kit’hal. Reh het xiruvan jan. Reh het xiruvan foranx’ia Voraxia wix henna Xiveri.”

  A pulse in my chest makes my legs go weak. I nearly stagger as beautifully accented High Voraxian ripples elegantly from her lips. Raku, I present myself to you. I present myself to the Voraxian people as your Xiveri mate, she says and she does not use her translator. She speaks to me in my own tongue.

  I feel like I’ve been pricked with a Droherion-tipped needle. It electrifies my skin softly while a much stronger dose bursts beneath my plates, in the center of my breast.

  I clear my throat before I speak, for it is full of this emotion I have never felt before, thus I do not know how to overcome it. It takes nearly all of my control to tamp the colors to my ridges — and whatever control is left, into not rutting her on the sands in front of all of my people.

  “You are the Xana to my Xaneru and I am honored by you. Rise, my Xiveri mate, and take your place as Rakukanna to your people.”

  She rises to stand, all long limbs and strength. There is only a slight tremble in one of her hands. She must see me glance at it, for she immediately curls it into a fist. At first, I worry that this is too closely resembling her fear expression, but one glance at her face tells me something else, for she has pleasure smeared across her full, plush lips.