Slave: A Dark Sci-Fi Reverse Harem Romance (Dothkhan Alien Warriors Book 1)

by Tahlia Black

  The human nods, continuing to eye us with contempt. This is dangerous territory. Humans are unpredictable. “What is your name?”

  “Hector,” he replies through his teeth.

  “You are an Alliance flight mechanic, yes?”

  He nods.

  “You can repair Alliance ships, modify them?”

  He nods again.

  I look to Tyrus. “Good.”

  *

  Back at the castle, Tyrus and I look down into the dock where our new human slave is busy working on Eve’s broken fighter. As ordered, he will get the ship flying again, modifying relevant markers and identification, but only enough to grant us access to the Alliance mothership.

  “It’s a bold plan, brother,” says Tyrus, “but once we reach the ship? You intend to put him under an influence spell?”

  “I do,” I reply, “but it will have to start when we’re on the approach. We cannot have him alerting the mothership as to our true purpose.”

  “The spell only lasts a short time. It’s highly volatile. We won’t have long once we reach the ship.”

  “I don’t intend to stay long,” I smile. “We get in, we get Eve, and we get out. Simple.”

  Tyrus laughs. “Nothing is ever simple when humans are involved.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  STRATUS

  It’s a strange feeling being inside an Alliance ship, surrounded by space. Avoiding Dothkhan detection was difficult enough, but now we are at the human’s mercy, masquerading as his prisoners.

  Ahead, the Alliance fleet sits—hundreds of ships big and small, the tentacle-like behemoth that is the mothership sitting squarely in the center.

  Tyrus signals me mentally. Sure the ship is stable, I reach forward and place both hands on the human’s head, allowing the influence spell to flow through my consciousness into his own, but it’s not easy. He resists, both mentally and physically.

  The fleet gets closer.

  A voice comes over coms. “Alliance fighter, identify yourself.”

  “Stratus…” warns Tyrus.

  I concentrate, but the human won’t let me in.

  “Alliance fighter,” the voice repeats, “identify yourself, immediately.”

  “Stratus!” shouts Tyrus.

  I manage to break through by sheer force, sifting through the human’s psyche and guiding his voice and actions.

  “Alliance fighter. This is your last warning. Identify yourself or you will be shot down.”

  The human speaks, his mouth moving robotically. “Command, this is Alliance Fighter 31172,” he says, using the new identifiers he marked the fighter with. “Requesting transport of Dothkhan political prisoners.”

  I expect questions, but there’s so much going on up here two political prisoners will go largely unnoticed.

  “Request received, Fighter 31172.” There is a short pause. “Confirm. Prepare for docking.”

  I release the human’s head now he’s under my control and turn to Tyrus. “There is no turning back now. Are you prepared for this?”

  “For Eve,” he replies, “I would go to the fire pits of Fa’ku and back again.”

  I’m amazed by the scale of the Alliance mothership as we dock. It’s less of a ship and more of a city, thousands of fighters at the ready.

  With a thud the ship comes to a stop. I pass Tyrus a set of modified Alliance power-cuffs, yet another Alliance item we were forced to plunder from our personal collection for this mission. They snap into position around his wrists.

  Likewise bound, I instruct the human to take up arms and lead us out of the ship.

  Keep your head low, I tell Tyrus mentally. We are prisoners, defeated, after all.

  All around us Alliance soldiers work and bustle. Some stop to spit at us as we walk, adding slurs and insults, but we keep our eyes fixed on the ground, the human leading us from behind. I use his brain to navigate the ship and take us towards a terminal.

  I have him stop at the nearest and enter Eve’s name into the system, but access to her records is denied.

  How do you expect to find her now? Tyrus asks silently. A ship like this would take eons to search.

  At that precise moment a soldier stops by the terminal, pointing to Eve’s name blinking on the screen. The three markings on his sleeve mark him as a Commander. “Looking for the prodigal daughter, are you?”

  I hesitate, my hold on the human slipping fractionally, his speech coming out not quite fluently. “Ah, yes… sir. I have instructions to deliver her to the medics for a psychological evaluation.”

  A nervous second passes where the Commander scrutinizes him. He lowers his voice, leaning in. “Word has it she is being held in her quarters, Sect L 400A, poor thing.” He taps his head. “They never return quite the same. Psychological torture, most likely,” looking at us, “these Dothkhan scum. And these two?”

  I search for the right reply. “Leaders of a small group looking to assassinate our Mighty Lord.”

  Grinning, his hands behind his back, the Commander stands before me. “Is that so?” He suddenly strikes me low in the chest with a balled fist, enough to send me to my knees. “Ah,” he laughs, shaking out his hand and addressing the human. “Feels good, son. You should try it.”

  I make the human smile back even though all I want to do is command him to blow this Vexhole’s head off. “Yes, sir. I intend to.”

  The Commander leaves and I have the human guide us to Eve’s quarters in Section L. It’s a long walk but, thankfully, an uneventful one.

  Finally, we arrive, but two guards are posted outside.

  What now? asks Tyrus.

  Wait, I tell him.

  I have the human speak. “I’m here to transport the Lieutenant.”

  The soldiers look at one another, the one on the right speaking first with his plasma rifle clutched to his chest. “We’re received no orders to that effect.” He looks to us. “Why are these prisoners here?” He reaches to his collar to call Command, but I break free of the restraints and dash forward, striking him in the throat. Perfectly coordinated, Tyrus does the same beside me, the two guards slumping to the floor unconscious.

  The human stands like a statue, unmoved.

  I reach down and pull away the guard’s security key, placing it against the lock panel. The door slides open and there she is, in Alliance uniform, a healed cut on her forehead, but she is there, our love, Eve, Nu’va.

  Tyrus rushes forward and embraces her. I join him, kissing her on the side of the head and holding her face. “We have to hurry, my love.”

  She looks at the human. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s under our control… for now, but as I said, we must make haste.”

  “How?” she asks, her eyes wide. “This is the Alliance mothership. I don’t how you made it in here, but we’ll never make it out alive. My fath—”

  She stops.

  “We’re not here for him, not today,” cuts in Tyrus. “We only want you, need you. I can’t imagine a life without you.”

  “Nor I,” I add. “We are one now.”

  I see her wipe away a tear, sniffing back the rest. The smile on her face fades. “But how?”

  I look at Tyrus. We’ve been over this, but it’s still a risky plan. “You will lead us out as your prisoners back to the docks where your ship, slightly modified, awaits. The human here will provide backup if needed. Do you know the way?”

  She nods and somehow looks incredibly beautiful even in an Alliance uniform. “I grew up on this ship. There is not a corridor or cabinet I do not know, but to avoid detection we will have to go through the cells. There is no other way.”

  “Fine,” I nod. “Let’s go.”

  Tyrus and I reapply our restraints loosely, have the human trail behind us with his rifle while Eve leads.

  Eve picks up a rifle of her own from one of the unconscious guards outside, setting it to single blast.

  I’ve grown accustomed to remaining emotionless and cold in situations such as this
, but I can’t hold back the nervous, unstable energy that courses through my body as we make our way through the ship.

  We are not questioned. Eve is congratulated, but no one asks about our presence, seemingly thinking us another two Dothkhan prisoners unworthy of their attention.

  It’s only when we reach the start of the cells in the lower section of the ship a solider rises from his chair and blocks the hallway.

  He shakes Eve’s hand. “Lieutenant, it’s good to see you out and about.”

  “Thank you, Cell Commander,” she replies nervously. “I’m bringing these two in.”

  He laughs, checking a holo board. “Back barely a day and already you’re kicking Dothkhan ass. You’re a hero, Lieutenant.”

  “I’m a simple soldier,” she replies.

  “Cell 212-A,” he says, “should suffice for these scum. Do you require an escort?”

  “No, sir,” she says, her voice starting to firm and sound natural, “might even have a little playtime first before I throw away the key.”

  The Cell Commander claps her on the back. “Of course. Of course.”

  The Commander returns to his chair. We shuffle past, heads downcast, the human following behind but the link between us starting to fray.

  “We need to hurry,” I whisper to Eve.

  We start to run, endless cells passing on our left and right full of fellow Dothkhans. We should save them, but I know there’s no time. We’d be slaughtered.

  We come around a corner and keep running.

  “There’s a service tunnel ahead that runs right to the docks,” says Eve, huffing. I can’t help but a steal a look at her tight ass. I’m looking forward to flogging it ripe with my hand, but first we need to get off this cursed ship.

  Running, I happen to look into the window of a cell and immediately stop dead.

  Eve pauses ahead, turning back. “Stratus, what are you doing?”

  But I can’t take my eyes away from what I’m seeing. Can it be real?

  Tyrus joins me looking through the window as the prisoner inside presses his hand against the glass.

  “Fortus,” we say in unison.

  Our brother, our long lost brother, stands at the window.

  “We must keep going,” calls Eve, turning back for us, her hair matted to her forehead. She sees us looking into the cell. “What is it?”

  “Our brother,” replies Tyrus, his hand against the glass. “We have to free him.”

  “Stand back,” she says, lifting her rifle and checking the corridor. She fires once at the cell door lock. It sparks, the sound of the shot echoing down the hallway, the door sliding open.

  Fortus stands there in shock. “By Vu’eta, it can’t be.”

  Tyrus runs in to embrace him. “Yes, brother, but come, we don’t have much time.”

  Fortus emerges with Tyrus and sees Eve.

  I place my hand against his chest. “There will be time enough for explanation later. For now, we need to go. Stay between Tyrus and I, your hands behind your back. Go,” I tell Eve.

  We reach the entrance to the service tunnel, the five of us forced to stoop given the low roof.

  It seems to take forever, but finally I see light ahead.

  “We’re almost there,” shouts Eve. “The docks are coming up.”

  An alarm starts to sound. Eve freezes.

  ‘What’s that?” I ask.

  “Fuck,” she curses. “Ship-wide escapee alert. Quick.”

  We run past the end of the service tunnel and into the docks, rushing past Alliance soldiers who look around in confusion.

  One attempts to go for his blaster, but Eve manages to quell him. “Easy. They’re with me.”

  He stutters. “Y-yes, Lieutenant.”

  We come down a series of stairs headed towards Eve’s fighter. I can see it waiting there as the alarm continues to sound.

  We pass a group of Alliance soldiers and mechanics, so, so close to the fighter.

  Suddenly, the link I had with the human is severed. He stops dead, shaking his head.

  “What the h—?”

  He looks up and sees me, his expression turning, his rifle lifting.

  “Eve!” I shout.

  She turns.

  Down, I tell my brothers.

  We crouch in time for Eve to see the human with his gun raised. She doesn’t hesitate, firing a single bolt to his chest.

  He goes down, Eve standing there in shock with a wisp of smoke curling out from the tip of her blaster.

  I look around, every eye in the docks upon us, attention we do not need.

  I break out of the restraints. “To the ship, quickly,” running forward and holding Eve tight beside me.

  We only just make it inside the fighter before the first few bolts strike the fuselage.

  “Shields up!” I call, Eve swinging into the pilot’s seat and powering up the shields, endless plasma bolts raining down upon us.

  A voice comes over coms. “Fighter 31172. Stay where you are. I repeat. Fighter 31172. Do not disen—”

  Eve silences the voice with a click of a button, the docking arms disconnecting with a clank and the engines whining away as we shift out into the open.

  Bolts are coming from every direction, blue and white and fizzing against the hull.

  “Shields are at half power,” says Eve, steering us towards the hanger doors. She shifts the thrust lever forward. “Hang onto something.”

  We hurtle towards the hanger doors, the engines at full thrust.

  They start to close.

  “We’re not going to make it,” says Fortus, eyes wide.

  Eve grits her teeth. “We. Will. Make. It.”

  The doors are closing fast, barely a sliver remaining.

  I’m having my own doubts. “Eve…”

  “We are going to make it,” she repeats.

  The gap is too narrow for us to squeeze through. At this speed… “Eve!” I shout over the engines.

  She twists the steering column and tilts the ship ninety degrees, the underside of it scraping against the outside edges of the doors as we emerge into hard space.

  Eve pulls in a breath, Tyrus laughing. “She did it. By Vex, she did it.”

  I point. “Make for the dark side of the closest moon there. It’s beyond their range and will allow us to move undetected back to Dothkhan.”

  Eve nods and inputs the coordinates.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EVE

  We emerge from the dock, safe, back at the castle.

  Tyrus has his hand on his head. “I cannot believe we pulled it off.”

  Stratus takes hold of the back of his neck. “Believe it, brother… Brothers,” he corrects, bringing Fortus into the embrace.

  All three brothers turn to face me.

  Stratus steps aside, gesturing to Fortus. “I don’t believe you two have been formally introduced. Eve, this is Fortus, the youngest of us. Fortus, this is Eve.”

  Fortus smiles, taking me in. “A human?”

  “She may look like a human,” says Tyrus, coming up beside him, “but she is Dothkhan through and through, the only human to survive the Ceremony.”

  This seems to amuse Fortus. “And she remains whole?”

  “She does,” replies Stratus, reaching for my hand and drawing me towards the trio. “You too shall come to see how special she is, in time.”

  Fortus resembles his brothers in many ways, but his features are sharper, his cheekbones high. There is a mischievous quality to him that’s quite at odds to the others. “I look forward to it.”

  “I can never go back,” I tell them. “I killed an Alliance soldier, shot him. There is no leniency for such a crime. If I return, I will be executed.”

  Stratus takes both my hands, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “There is no need for you to return, Nu’va. Your life now is here, with us, and we shall make it a very happy one indeed.”

  “But the Alliance… I tried, but I couldn’t tell them of my father’s lies.”
r />   “Actually,” says Stratus, tilting his head and looking down between us, “they are to find out after all.”

  “How?” I ask.

  Stratus looks to the others before returning his gaze to me. His skin shifts between indigo and periwinkle. “I had the soldier under my influence use the terminal we were at to place a holo into the system, a holo that will, thanks to our engineers, go system-wide in a matter of hours. It will be beamed to every Alliance ship and stronghold, every planet and starcruiser. Finally, the galaxy will know the Grand Commander’s deception.”

  I have to applaud Stratus’s ingenuity. Admittedly, the last people I expected to see on the mothership were the brothers, but the danger they put themselves in to rescue me only solidifies my resolve they are truly selfless, that their love for me runs deeper than any I have known.

  “What will the Alliance do?” asks Fortus.

  “Only Vex’u knows,” replies Stratus, “which is why I must leave for the capital at once.”

  “You’re leaving already?” I ask, my throat suddenly tight.

  Stratus’s strong hands take my waist. “It shall not be for long, my love, but there is a very important matter I must take to the Council.” He looks to his brothers and they share a secret moment I’m unable to unravel.

  He returns to me. “In any case, I’m quite sure Tyrus and Fortus will make you feel welcome once more.”

  He kisses me once and walks off towards the back of the docks and the transport.

  Tyrus takes Fortus’s shoulder. “Well, brother, should we celebrate your release? I have a bottle of Ve’ra with your name on it.”

  “Ve’ra?” I query.

  Tyrus laughs. “A Dothkhan beverage that my brother thinks would burn a hole right through that pretty throat of yours, but I think otherwise. So come, Nu’va, and let us celebrate together. Tonight, we will make a true Dothkhan of you.”

  *

  I roll over and immediately wince. It only took one glass of Ve’ra to turn me near catatonic, the burn of it still licking at the back of my throat. Stratus was right. It’s more like engine fuel than something to be consumed for entertainment, though Tyrus got plenty of the latter when I dragged him to my chambers.