by Aline Ash
There are so many questions I don’t have the answers to, and yet, the feeling of excitement that I’m having Kon’s child persists. There isn’t another man in any universe I would rather raise a family with. Despite the circumstances, a slow smile starts to spread across my face, and is then wiped away instantly by the sound of a familiar laugh.
I turn and see G’rin and one of his goons entering the room. His eyes are locked onto mine, and there is an ominous glint in his eye. The medic puts down his device and turns to him.
“Good, you are here,” he says. “I need both of you to restrain her for a moment, please.”
“Gladly.”
I tense and move to throw a punch, but G’rin anticipated it and grabs my wrist in his iron strong hand. He quickly twists it and bends my arm behind my back, making me cry out with pain. If he keeps applying pressure, he’ll snap it like a twig. Even knowing that, I can’t help but keep struggling. Having his hands on me makes me sick, and I want nothing more than to gouge his eyes out and kick his teeth down his throat.
“Stop struggling,” G’rin says. “It’ll hurt less.”
“This is just a mild sedative,” the doctor says. “We need you asleep to perform the procedure.”
“What procedure?” I shout. “Let go of me, you fucking creep.”
The doctor approaches me with some sort of strange hypodermic needle. It looks like a gun, trigger and all, and I find myself suddenly more scared then I’ve ever been. As he leans in, I lash out with my foot and kick him in the crotch. He staggers backwards with a strangled choking sound and falls to his knees, grabbing his injured parts. G’rin laughs and his breath is hot on the back of my neck. The doctor is slowly getting to his feet again, a look of pure rage on his face.
“Hold her still,” he hisses.
The second guard moves in and quickly attaches binders to my legs, keeping me from kicking, and as I keep struggling, G’rin twists my arm higher, and I scream in pain as it feels like my arm is on the verge of popping out of its socket. The doctor leans in again, and this time, he’s able to press the tip of his gun to my neck and squeezes the trigger. I hear a loud click, and then there’s a sharp sting, and my vision almost immediately starts to waver.
“Wh-what did you just give me?” I ask.
G’rin’s voice is a guttural whisper. “When you wake up, they’ll have cut that Tabiean abomination out of your belly and seeded you with a proper Gargolian warrior,” he hisses. “You should consider yourself lucky we’re allowing you the privilege of letting you carry one of our own.”
I feel lightheaded and disoriented and my vision is starting to dim. I open my mouth to protest but nothing comes out. And suddenly, I just feel tired. Exhausted. I let myself slip down into the warm, comforting arms of sleep and then my whole world goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kon
“Where is she?” I growl.
Tara is sitting on the edge of the sleeping pod and shakes her head. I had expected to find Marissa here waiting for me as I had instructed and was surprised to find Tara instead. With the Culling nearly upon us, the Tabiean female had come to say goodbye to Marissa.
“I do not know, Kon,” she says. “I saw the guards take her to the healers’ bay earlier. I have looked everywhere for her, but I cannot find her.”
“The healers bay…”
Tara gives me a somber look. “I told her not to.”
“What did she do, Tara?” I ask, my voice low and tight.
She sighs and shakes her head. “She got herself taken to the healers’ bay to see if she could find some Zypr’n…for me,” she says. “I told her not to, though. I swear Kon, I told her—”
I grab the table and slam it against the wall. Tara quickly looks down, cowed by my outburst. I scrub my face with my hands and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I try to regain control of myself. Tara looks absolutely terrified, and I feel a stab of guilt.
“I know this is not your fault,” I tell her. “Marissa can be very headstrong.”
Tara nods. “This I know.”
I pace the cell as my mind races, trying to figure out what to do about this. We have one chora before the Culling begins. I have a chora to find Marissa and be in place; otherwise, this breakout is going to be over before it begins. Either that or I leave Marissa behind. The moment the thought crosses my mind, I reject it. I could never leave her behind. Not now. Not anymore. The situation between us has changed dramatically, and she’s a part of me now.
“We need to find her,” I say.
“Where do we start looking?”
“I think I have an idea.”
Tara follows behind me timidly, jumping at every shadow. I have been tempted more times than I can count to tell her to go away, but I know she cares about Marissa and wants to help find her as well. We work our way through the winding corridors of the prison. Although there are many areas still off limits to me, my standing within the prison and among the viewers allows me a certain freedom not many others enjoy.
I push through the doors and barge into the prison guard’s eating hall. There are no entertainment cameras in this zone, and regular prisoners are forbidden to enter here. The stench of Garoglian food is overwhelming, and it curdles my stomach. These wretched creatures eat things I would never dare consider food. The odor is acrid and cloyingly sweet at the same time. Both Tara and I wrinkle our noses in disgust.
The hall is empty save for one table. And at that table sits exactly who I was looking for. I hear Tara gasp in fear as I head straight for him, but she follows along behind anyway. I stop at the table and stare down at him, just the sight of his face is enough to set the anger inside of me churning. He is sitting across from two of his men, and when he looks up at me, his eyes narrow and he sucks a still-wriggling dark purple tentacle into his mouth.
“What do you want, Beast?” G’rin spits. “And what is she doing here? She does not enjoy the same privileges you do.”
“Where is she?” I growl. “Where is Marissa?”
His laughter is low and ominous. “You are quite attached to your little pet, aren’t you?”
“Where is she, G’rin?”
There is a sparkle of amusement in his eyes as he looks at me. It makes me want to rip the head off his shoulders with my bare hands. As if sensing the tension and the potential violence radiating from me like the heat from the sun, G’rin’s two bodyguards stiffen, their eyes narrowed as they watch me carefully.
“You haven’t heard?” G’rin muses as he sits back in his chair. “It seems that your human female is a match for our breeding program. And as such, she has been taken aboard the production vessel that will return to Gargole once the Culling is over.”
“A match?” I ask. “What—”
“Oh yes, that was the other part of the story. She was impregnated with your seed,” G’rin goes on. “And since we obviously cannot allow that abomination to live, she will have a procedure to remove it. And after, she will be implanted with good Gargolian seed.”
“You lie.”
“Sometimes, when it serves me, yes. But not in this case,” he says. “The human really is pregnant with your abomination. But don’t worry, that will not be the case very much longer.”
Something about the smug smile on G’rin’s face and the arrogant tone in his voice pushes me to the edge. It’s the idea that Marissa is alive and has my child growing within her that pushes me over it. With a roar that starts deep in my belly, I grab the first guard faster than he can react. I pull him to his feet and throw him down onto the second, sending them both sprawling backward where they land in a heap of tangled limbs.
G’rin is fast, but I’m faster. He is bringing his stun stick up, but I grab his arm and give it a vicious twist. The snap of bone is audible, and he howls in rage and pain as I drive my foot into his gut, sending him flying back. He hits the wall behind their table and bounces off of it. Scooping up the stun stick, I dash toward the two guards who
are getting back on their feet, cursing and growling.
Putting all of my strength behind it, rather than use it as it was intended, I swing the stick. It connects with the side of the first guard’s head with a sickening crunch. The blow is so fierce, the metal stick bends and the side of his head caves in. He falls limply to the floor as blood begins spilling from his eyes and mouth. Dropping the stick, I grab the second guard’s arm and spin him around so that I’m standing directly behind him. I wrap my arms around his neck and twist. I can feel the crack and pop of his neck vibrate through my arms, and I drop his limp form.
Still enraged, I close in on G’rin, who is still on his backside, trying to scoot away from me as quickly as he can with his one good arm cradled in his lap. At heart, G’rin is a coward. He uses his power and position to intimidate people. At least he tries. He has never intimidated me a bit, and I have long desired the chance to kill him. When he’s faced with somebody who is not afraid of him and will stand up to him, he backs down every single time.
“Wait, wait,” G’rin starts. “Let’s make a deal. I can get you anything you want.”
I stand over him, looking down at him with nothing but hate in my heart. As I think about Marissa and the fact that she’s carrying my child, and that this monster takes glee in the idea of them killing my child, I am filled with a rage that is deep and dark.
“I am going to save Marissa,” I growl. “And I’m going to save my child.”
He screams and holds his hand up I raise my foot and bring it down on G’rin’s head.
When I’m sure he’s dead, I turn back to Tara to see that she is unfazed by the violence. I’m not surprised. Though wounded and weak, she is still Tabiean and we are a fierce race of beings. As I scrape G’rin’s bloody viscera off my feet, she collects the stun sticks of the other two dead guards.
“What now?” she asks.
“Now we have to move up our timeline,” I say. “We know where Marissa is, and we need to get to her.”
“Timeline?” she asks, confused. “And she’s on the production ship. How are we to get to her?”
I realize in that moment that Tara doesn’t know of our plans to escape. But of course she doesn’t, she was not part of the plan, until now. She has no idea what’s going on, and I don’t have the time to explain it to her.
“Just follow me,” I growl.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kon
“Now?”
I nod. “Yes, now.”
“We’re not ready,” Dyrm protests.
“No choice,” I tell him sternly. “Has to be now.”
Dyrm curses under his breath and looks at me, and I growl low in my throat. Yes, our plan was meticulously planned and timed out. But circumstances have changed. The second they find G’rin and his men dead, they are going to lock everything down.
“I killed G’rin,” I finally admit. “If we don’t go now, we may not get another chance.”
Dyrm looks over at Tara. “And who’s she?”
“She’s coming with us,” is all I tell him.
Dyrm sighs and looks both annoyed and scared. Honestly, we are not pushing up our timeline by very much, so I think Dyrm’s concern is a bit overstated.
“Why did you kill G’rin?” Dyrm asks.
“We don’t have time for this,” I spit and turn to Mylak, one of our other crewman. “We need to get the wheels moving. Find the others and get them into place. Now.”
“Why did you jeopardize everything, Kon?” he presses. “For what? To get your petty revenge?”
I lash out with a backhand and Dyrm’s head rocks to the side. He turns and looks at me, his eyes narrow, his face tight.
“I am still your chieftain,” I growl. “Now, do as I command, or I will leave you here to rot.”
“I meant no disrespect,” Dyrm said, his face softening. “I am just uneasy with the sudden changes to the plan.”
“I understand,” I tell him. “But now is not the time for this. Do as I say, and all will be explained.”
“Yes, Chieftain.”
I sigh as Dyrm runs off to put his part of the plan in motion as Mylak gathers the rest of our crew. On the one hand, I can understand his reluctance. But on the other, I do not like it. I am the chieftain, and as such, my orders should be obeyed. I know we are in a strange way right now, and our tribe is scattered, so I have tried to be understanding. But I will not tolerate pure insolence.
I stand still for a moment and listen to the din created by thousands of voices as the wealthy and elite are filling the arena. I don’t know how full it is and how many Gargolians remain outside the venue. The plan had called for killing as many of the Gargolians as we could on our way out. The higher the body count, the better as far as we’re concerned. But the situation on the ground has changed so we’ll have to take what we can get.
“What happens next?” Tara asks.
“We wait.”
“Wait for what?”
I growl and look at her. But rather than cower this time, Tara raises her chin defiantly, looking for the first time since I’ve known her like a proper Tabiean warrior.
“You’ll see,” I say.
The wait isn’t long. The sound of muffled explosions can be heard and the floor beneath us quivers and bucks. Inside the arena is the sound of absolute pandemonium. I turn and give Tara a grin.
“We were able to tap underneath the stands of the arena,” I tell her. “We made and planted several bombs to create a diversion and ensure there would be chaos in the prison.”
Tara shudders as we hear the sound of screaming and agonized wailing accompanied by the chatter of weapons fire amidst the cacophony of voices.
“We must go,” I tell her. “Stay close.”
I lead her through the labyrinth of corridors, heading for the designated spot we are to meet with Dyrm and Ryn, and the others. We pass several hallways that are thick with prisoners and guards fighting, bodies litter the ground, and a veritable rainbow of different colored blood is splashed all over the floors and walls of the corridors. I glance over my shoulder and see Tara starting to falter, her limp growing more pronounced. Her jaw is clenched, and though I can see she’s in pain, she’s trying to keep up with me.
“Keep going,” I tell her. “We’re almost there.”
We round a corner and find the eighteen men who will make up my crew - well, half a crew anyway - waiting for us, crowded together in a small room that’s a long way from the arena and isn’t used very often. It also has the distinction of having a wall that backs straight into the Gerr’a spaceport. Ryn is holding a small, crude device in his hand. He gives Tara a strange look, then cuts a glance over at Dyrm, who shakes his head.
“Are we ready?” I ask.
Casting one last glance at Tara, he nods. I watch as Ryn sets the device down at the base of the wall to our right. And after he punches a few buttons, I hear a loud beep. A moment later, he is ushering us out of the room and out into the corridor. We look around, making sure the Gargolians aren’t closing in on us. Thankfully, the hallways are clear. All of the sudden, there is a deafening roar and the floor shakes beneath us as a cloud of dirt and dust is blown into the corridor. I listen to the sound of falling rock for a moment before Ryn whoops in delight.
“Let’s go!” he cheers.
The dust and debris are still falling down all around us as we enter the room but there is a large hole in the back wall and beyond it is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen—rows and rows of ships sitting ready for us to climb aboard and take off.
“Down!” Dyrm screams.
A moment later, he is slamming into me, driving me off my feet. In turn, I stumble backward and knock Tara down as well. I am thankful for Dyrm’s fast reflexes when Gargolian blaster fire cuts through the air we’d been occupying just a moment ago.
A small group of Gargolian guards are standing there, undoubtedly to secure the spaceport from folks like us. I look over and see a wicked grin on Dyrm’s fa
ce—there is little he loves more than a fight. But that smile on his face fades quickly. I follow his eyes to see what he’s staring at and see that Ryn hadn’t been fast enough and was filled with holes. His blood seeps out of him in an ever-expanding pool.
“Stay down,” the Gargolians shout at us. “Stay on the ground.”
The contingent is drawing closer, and when I deem that they’re well within our range, I look over at Dyrm, my face tight, rage coursing through my veins.
“Let’s go,” I growl. “For Ryn.”
“For Tabia,” both Dyrm and Tara reply in unison.
And like that, we’re all on our feet, and my small army rushes the Gargolians, who are taken by surprise by our boldness. I throw myself at the biggest one and drive my fist into his throat. Clutching his neck and sputtering wildly, the Gargolian staggers back, his eyes wide, his face ashen. I turn and drive my foot into the side of the knee of a guard who’s tangled up with Dyrm. The knee buckles in an unnatural way, and he falls, his screams filling the inside of the spaceport. Dyrm steps forward and quickly snaps the guard’s neck, letting his limp body slump to the ground.
I turn back and launch myself at the Gargolian I’d just disabled. I drive my fist into his head again and again, and he’s so focused on the fact that he can’t breathe that he’s barely even defending himself. He wavers on his feet, until he lets out a wet gurgling noise and falls to the ground, gasping for air.
I look over and see that Tara is holding her own, and I’m impressed. I watch as she kicks the Gargolian in the groin with her good leg, and when he doubles over, she twists his head in an unnatural way. I can hear the snapping of his bone from where I stand. She is weak and wouldn’t have lasted very long in the arena; our goal is what gives her motivation and extra strength. She is a real Tabiean warrior, one I would be proud to embrace in my crew.