A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  No. He wasn’t going to let her go. How could he?

  "You have to promise me, Ryan!"

  Her voice had changed in pitch, her eyes searching and wide in fear “Please, I do not want you to die.”

  "We can hide."

  "Where? There is no escape."

  "Maybe you’ve mistranslated."

  “Look.” A handful of guards were pushing through the crowd, methodically inspecting the human females.

  “It is too late.”

  “What will they do with you?”

  “I do not know. But I am more useful alive than dead, at least for now. You just stay alive. Stay alive, escape, and come looking for me. OK?” She forced a smile upon her tear-stained face.

  Ryan nodded. “OK. I’ll come back for you. I’ll escape from these bastards and I’ll come looking for you. I swear I will. Don’t give up. I’ll come for you.”

  She nodded, seeming to relax slightly. “Good. We were brought together for a reason. It is our fate. Remember?"

  He pulled her close, wrapping his arms protectively around her. They held each other close as the crowd shift around them, and the guards moved ever closer.

  She pushed him away. Her face now a mask of brave defiance.

  “You remember your promise,” she directed, lips white, eyes locked on him.

  At that moment he knew he loved her. It was something deep within him. Maybe it was all just chemicals, pheromones, some kind of natural physiological response. Hell, maybe it was a reaction to stress. But it didn’t matter.

  The crowd parted behind her. Two Txtians shoved through and promptly stopped their advance as soon as they saw Aviore. She did not cower or hide her face but stared back at them proudly.

  Typical, to be so brave.

  He couldn’t help but admire her.

  The Txtian spoke in its clicking, screeching voice, and a small electronic box mounted on its shoulder belt chirped out a slightly familiar language.

  "That is a garbled excuse of my home tongue, Ryan." She stated quietly. "They told me to follow them or they will kill me. Stay back. I do not want you to die here."

  Her body was trembling, revealing how truly afraid she really was.

  They grabbed her. She gave him one last look over her shoulder. Eyes full of fear. She said something, but the surrounding noise drowned it out. Then she was gone, lost in the milling crowd.

  He bit down on his lip until he could taste blood. His body was shaking with rage, but he could do nothing.

  What was it she had said? I love you was such a simple yet unmistakable set of words. Could it be?

  Somehow he would find a way out of this hell. No matter what chances he had to take. He would survive, and he would escape. Then he would find her if it was the last thing he ever did.

  No longer would he dream of home.

  * * *

  2. Kalmaka

  R yan stood trembling in silent rage. His heart pounded in his temples, eyes literally afire. The patrol had all but disappeared, along with Aviore, but he stood there, amongst a sea of humanity, utterly unable to act. The others huddled amongst themselves, eyes to the floor, seeking to avoid catching any undue attention from guards patrolling through the crowd.

  The lights suddenly dimmed and whips cracked, forcing them all down onto the floor. Ryan watched as the others complied, hastily settling down onto the hard floor, but he stood defiantly, to gaze across the large expanse of the room.

  A woman, covered in filth, face tear-stained, slight and shaking, tugged at his shirt, beckoning him to sit. She looked at him hopefully, eyes wide and careful not to utter a word. Her actions spoke loud enough.

  Become small, don’t draw their attention.

  He laid his hand on hers, reassuring her it would be OK, and she withdrew it, edging back from him.

  Fear was going to kill them all, long before these animals did them in.

  The thought burned into his mind as he watched her slide away to merge with the others. The dim lighting reflected the scene in a slight auburn hue, revealing just enough detail for him to make out the fact that it was not just humans enslaved. Creatures, lizard-like in appearance, much leaner than that of the Xilozaks, huddled amongst themselves in small groups and kept a respectful distance from the humans.

  Were these the Showmish? He could only guess they were.

  Guards had already thinned to a sparse few and were congregating in a half-dozen areas. Some of them had turned their attention to playing some form of game similar to tossing dice, satisfied to entertain themselves and ignore their captives. Only a few were left to actively patrol.

  So engrossed was he in his inspection, he had failed to see that one of the patrolling guards had noticed him. He locked eyes with the Xilozak who was a little more than 10 meters from him and closing. The alien was casually retracting his whip, reptilian eyes contracting unevenly in the low light.

  Ryan eased down onto the floor, eyeing the creature cautiously.

  The guard, whip now fully uncoiled, paused momentarily, distracted by a yell coming from the group playing their game. He gave a wave to the group, then passed a long piercing gaze his way. Ryan stayed motionless, hidden in the darkness. Seemingly satisfied, the guard coiled his whip and headed back toward the noisy group.

  A man sat to his left, very close. Signite or Earthman? Ryan asked him his name but the man wouldn't respond. He kept his head bowed to the floor and waved him away. A woman, also near, rocked on her knees, quietly sobbing, her face hidden in a nest of red hair.

  He turned to her. "Can you talk?"

  He reached out, cleared her hair away, and pulled her chin up.

  "Can you hear me?"

  She didn't respond. Her eyes were blank. Like too many others, she was lost. Her mind had retreated back into itself, like she had resigned to living in some dream. He let her go in pity and she resumed her rocking.

  "Can anyone hear me?" he said out loud. Another guard turned to give a casual glance his way but then turned his attention back to their game.

  “Shut up,” whispered a man near him. He spoke English. “You’ll attract them.”

  A few others gave him warning looks, but no one else spoke.

  Ryan caught movement in the corner of his eye. A whip cut through his back like a razor, hitting him with so much force it drove him face down onto the filthy floor. The other slaves scrambled away, not wanting to be next.

  Ryan couldn't move. His body was numb, feeling nothing from his back to his legs. The slack of the whip met the floor and sparks flew.

  Electrically charged. Nice.

  The air smelled of burning flesh - his flesh. As the numbness wore off, it mutated into excruciating pain. He lay quiet, expecting another lash, but it did not come. The guard's footsteps receded into the crowd. His back throbbed in pain matching the rhythm of his pounding heart. Others looked at him quietly, but their faces revealed something more. He knew what they were thinking.

  I told you so.

  Lesson number one, thought Ryan, keep your mouth shut. He clenched his teeth, fought the burning pain to get back up on his knees.

  A graying old man with no teeth started cackling with a sandpaper tone. "You sure got yours! Didn't ya, bucko!"

  Ryan glared at the aging derelict.

  "I'm an old man. I have no teeth, see?" and proceeded to prove his point by showing bare gums. "You’re from Earth? Yeah, I like you, dumbass. Me too, ya know. Australia. Long time ago," He twitched and looked around quickly. "I'm an old man, now. Been slavin’ a long, long time."

  "I can see that,” Ryan said, relieved that someone was willing to talk, even if he was crazy. “What's your name?"

  "Noteeth. Noteeth's my name. Chewin's my game!" He cackled away again quietly, entertained by his own twisted humor. "Don't you get up now. They come back, they do. They always come back. The others play games, but the rovers, they're just mean. You want some more, do ya, young buck?"

  Ryan tried to relax as he fought down s
hots of pain emanating from the long, raw slice on his back.

  Yeah, they probably would come back. Maybe the old bugger wasn't as crazy as he'd thought.

  "Damned insects!" the old man said with a growl.

  "You got that right, Old Man. Don't forget the damned lizards, either."

  "If I had my teeth I'd eat them!" he stated with a staunch fearless frown on his gray face.

  Ryan almost broke out into a laugh. "How old are you?"

  "Old enough. Dunno. Long time. Listen to me. I know, what I’ve seen. You're a young buck. You gotta work the mines. They feed you better there. Good food. Fill your stomach. Stay away from the cities. Bad places. I lost my teeth in the city. Bad place. Bad places."

  The old man was literally trembling, eyes lost on some past memory.

  “How long did you say? I thought this was the first slaver?”

  “Nah. Been a long time now. They’re moving me now. Dunno why – but I like it, I do.”

  “So this ship wasn’t the first?”

  “This ship? Nah.But it wasn’t as big as this monstrosity, bucko.” He cackled. “No, no, no. Was a tiny thing. Grabbed us up maybe half-dozen. All gone now. Just ol’noteeth left. You remember what I tell ya, you do.”

  "What do you mean work the mines?"

  The old man seemed caught in a dark dream.

  “Old man!” Ryan grabbed his arm.

  The fragile relic threw off his grip with surprising strength, his focus returned, eyes wild and intense upon him.

  "You stay on the fringe, away from their cities. Avoid the insects – they’re bad news. And stay away from Xilo! When they come a-courtin' you look for'em. When it comes time for the auction, you see a miner, you knock the auctioneer's teeth out..."

  He laughed again. It ground itself into a spasm of choking.

  "That's good. Yes. Go for the teeth. That shows spunk. Spunk's good. Good for the belly. But be careful they don't kill ya first." He winked.

  "Look, I just wanna stay alive, old man, long enough to escape."

  "Escape!” he cackled, then he shifted a little closer, considering him with weathered, gray eyes. He grabbed Ryan by the jaw, stared into his eyes.

  “We all need to escape, bucko. I see something in you. Your soul gives you away. Maybe you’re gonna save us. Save us all.”

  He let go, throwing his arms around in some insane dance of glee. The others around him watched in fascination. “I know, I see it. I saw it. Saw when the whip took ya down. Saw it in a blink. My eyes, they're still good ya see. It'll all be fine, it will. The day will come. You’ll see.”

  Just as suddenly his manner turned dark. He retreated, turning his back on Ryan, mumbling softly. “I see that day will come, but I dunno about me. Dunno. Can never see that. Never.”

  He looked back only for a moment. “If I do see you again young buck, you bring me my teeth, OK?"

  Ryan shook his head. "Sure, if I can find them."

  The old man only looked at him and cackled again. His frail body shook with the effort. "You keep down. Too many batteries in them whips. Me, I gotta go. Gotta find my bed. You 'member my teeth. OK?"

  "I will. Take care, old man."

  The strange character crawled away without a look back. The crowd moved apart, allowing him to pass. Ryan stayed put. His back hurt too much to move.

  In what seemed hours later, another commotion began as the aliens started moving the captured victims to the center of the room. He felt vibrations through the hull. Creaks and wails sounded throughout the ship. A final thud gave Ryan an inkling that they had landed - somewhere.

  The guards divided up the slaves and began escorting the groups out one at a time. They stopped just short of Ryan’s group.

  Another long delay. They were standing long enough for his legs to tighten up in cramps. He was thirsty and his stomach growled with hunger. The delay ended with the guards herding them back up the elevator, down the corridors, and eventually, ending up back at their tube-cells.

  This time he did not fight them.

  Not this time.

  A guard tossed in a collapsible water container as the door closed. He sat in the dark, alone, wondering what the future was going to be. The ship took off, shuddering and creaking from every facet. The noise and vibration became almost unbearable. Ryan had visions of dying in this dark hold, crushed to death by the massive weight of the ship. He fought off the claustrophobia with everything he had. The burning pain from his wounds helped him stay aware. The shaking stopped as suddenly as it had started. They were in space again, enroute to the unknown.

  He lay there with his ear to the hull. Sound carried easily. Someone was screaming within the bowels of the ship, someone who had lost the fight to stay sane. In the darkness, there was little else to do.

  Too easy to go there.

  The visions of slavery haunted him. Hundreds of lost, desperate, faces. All turned into zombies, mute from fear, strained from pain, beyond their breaking point, empty of spirit, shadows of what they once were. Only fear and despair was left.

  He was not going to become one of them. He would die first.

  Over time the ship’s vibrations became comforting. They gradually lulled him to sleep. His dreams were no less troubled than his reality. They were filled with images of his home being methodically laid to waste by gigantic machines, piloted by insects with lizard eyes.

  * * *

  "Status?" Zorlog grunted to the Savok in charge.

  "All the slaves moved out. We stand ready."

  "Good. You will ensure all are accounted for and measured properly."

  "Thank you, Tarvok. If there is a problem, what are my orders?"

  "A problem? What kind of problem?”

  The Savok shifted uneasily. “Perhaps someone refuses to pay?”

  Zorlog chuckled. “Someone refuse? Perhaps one would be foolish enough. Your orders are to bring this refuser to me. I will discuss the problem with this individual personally."

  "We may be required to use force."

  Zorlog looked at the younger Xilozak with amusement. He was new in this position, just promoted to Savok, and so far, had proven to be quite efficient. He liked him even though he could be a bit annoying with a constant dribble of questions.

  "Savok, a Xilozak need not entertain such problems. Just kill them, but keep the one in charge alive and bring him to me, understand?"

  "Completely, my Tarvok!" He replied with a nervous salute before hastily departing.

  Zorlog meandered around the bridge, passing an inspecting eye over each of the crew. Most avoided his penetrating gaze.

  A Txtian approached him, the head officer of the military envoy.

  Zorlog looked at him in disgust. "What do you want?" he growled.

  "We are scheduled for a meeting upon entry into the Signus system. I am requesting the estimate of our time of arrival."

  "And what would make your arrival so important?"

  "We have been requested by the great Zuvok Ezok."

  "A Zuvok? You of all, to meet a military commander of such rank? Seems unorthodox. However, I did agree to take you to the Empirical fleet, did I not? I intend to align with my word. We will disembark for the Signus system on completion of this slave auction."

  "I have received a number of complaints from my group about the duty roster."

  "Are your officers unable to perform the work, Txtian?" Zorlog jeered.

  "No. The issue is that we have no agreement to work as part of this crew. You were contracted by the Empire to provide us transportation. There are no other arrangements. I intend to extract my troops from under your command."

  "As long as you are within my ship, you and your troops will follow my orders to the letter. The Empire cannot protect you while you are within a civilian ship. Accidents can happen. Do you understand, Txtian?"

  "Is that a threat, Zorlog?"

  "It is Tarvok Zorlog, and I do not threaten, I give orders. I am in command here, do not dispute my authority or y
ou will learn my methods of discipline."

  The Txtian remained quiet for a moment as if thinking what to reply. "Very well, but your conduct will be reported. This will not go unpunished."

  "Unpunished? Again, you warn me on this very deck? Perhaps I should impress on you that your honorable Zuvok and I are old acquaintances. There are many perspectives one can consider with this arrangement. My terms are simple: follow my orders and you and your troops will remain alive. Now get out of my way!" He pushed the Txtian against the bulkhead wall and marched past, headed for his quarters.

  "We know you have captured the slave daughter of the Signite leader! We will insist on her transfer upon arrival at Signus!" the Txtian screeched after him.

  "Along with your corpse," grumbled Zorlog under his breath.

  * * *

  The slavership dropped out of acroluc almost on top of the Xi-Empire attack fleet. Fleet ships scrambled in frenzied efforts to avoid a collision.

  Zorlog ignored the irritated Tarvok’s complaints over the com channels. He inspected the front line for himself, his tracing officers had pulled together a full holographic compilation of the area. The Signite resistance was almost defeated. Most of its fleet had been annihilated, outmatched by the tremendous size of the invading force. A large blip on the tactical holograph, the Zuvok’s cruiser, broke away from the engagement and made its way back to the lone slavership.

  "Zuvok Ezok hailing, Sir," reported Zorlog's com officer.

  Zorlog nodded and positioned himself purposefully on the bridge. It is important to maintain an image when one is in a position of lesser power.

  The Zuvok's scarred flustered face pasted itself on the main monitor. "Zorlog, you are as crazy as they say!" His coarse laugh scratched itself through the sound monitors.

  Zorlog replied with a toothy smile. "I was the only one willing to bring these pitiful creatures to you within an unsecured zone. That does not make me crazy, just well provisioned."

  Ezok scoffed. "A stray shot from one of these Signite battleships could blow you to micro-dust. Are you sure the risk is worth the credits? Perhaps you are simply incapable of understanding your situation."