Alien Caged

by Tracy St. John

  His rough but cheerful voice rose above the cheers. “I’m sorry to disrupt your fine last stand and march to final glory, but my men wanted in on the fun. Who’s the ranking officer here?”

  Zemos straightened and walked around the bins to stand before the hulking brute. He bowed. “That would be me. I am Captain Zemos of the destroyer class ship identification DS-47013, lost in a fight with this battlecruiser.”

  The other man returned the bow. “Captain Nako of the raider class ship identification RD-1202. As you have no doubt surmised, we got your distress call. We also picked up one of the men you sent out in a fighter to find help.”

  Zemos smiled at the leader of their rescuers. “We are quite happy to see you, Captain Nako.”

  Elisa could hardly believe the fight was over and they were alive. She tried pinching herself, but the pain felt distant. Maybe she was dreaming. She drew near Zemos, her eyes wide as she looked at the other captain.

  Nako started to see her there. When he looked at Zemos, who nodded, he grinned even bigger. He bowed to Elisa.

  “I imagine you are glad we came. Thank you, Captain Zemos, for providing the distraction that allowed us to board with little resistance.”

  Zemos grimaced. “Glad to have been of service.”

  The two Dramoks chuckled then, a couple of seasoned warriors who didn’t have to speak much beyond banter to be on the same wavelength.

  Elisa and Oret knelt next to Miragin, who still lay on the floor. The Imdiko watched Zemos and Nako’s exchange with pained cheer. He pointedly ignored Oret’s hiss as the Nobek checked at his clanmate’s injury.

  Elisa had to look away from the torn, bloody mess. Zemos left Nako to examine his clanmate’s shoulder. Nako looked them over with curiosity.

  “A civilian was on your destroyer?” he asked. Then the his jaw dropped. “Mother of All, I’ve seen that face before. Tell me that this is not the Conscience of Kalquor lying injured on the floor.”

  Miragin waved weakly with his good hand. “I’m afraid so. I am glad to see you, Captain Nako.”

  “By the ancestors!” Nako turned to yell at his men. “Get the medical crew in here now!” The raider captain knelt with them as Oret and Zemos assessed Miragin’s condition. He muttered in Kalquorian, and Elisa assumed he cursed.

  “A lot of muscle and tissue damage,” Oret reported. “The bone and joint seem to be intact, however.”

  “Just the shoulder?” Nako asked. “Tell me your wonderful Imdiko has not suffered a head injury, Captain Zemos. I go for far too long between skirmishes to not have decent reading material.”

  Oret smirked, as if amused. “It looks like he will survive with all faculties intact.”

  Miragin smiled brightly at his fan. “And plenty of material for another book.”

  Nako chuckled. “I would imagine so.” He bowed his head to Miragin, his expression one of awed respect.

  He turned to Zemos. “Four more ships from the fleet are less than an hour away. By that time, I think my men will have finished rounding up the rest of the Earther holdouts on board. I’d invite your men to join them, but mine are a terrible bunch, keeping all the glory for themselves when possible.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about such,” Zemos answered, jerking his head to one side to indicate Oret.

  “Says the Dramok with the heavy Nobek tendencies,” Oret snorted back.

  “I am dual-breed myself,” Nako said. “We must trade stories over drinks, Captain Zemos.”

  There were grins all around, including Elisa’s. Only minutes before, she had given herself and her clan up for dead. She still had the sense of unreality, but it was fading in the aftermath of victory. As impossible as it seemed, they were going to be all right.

  Chapter 21

  Elisa tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. It kept escaping in the stiff breeze that blew through the flower garden. The wayward lock of hair wouldn’t have bothered her except it always aimed for her eyes. She huffed at it through her grin.

  All things considered, hair in her face was not such a bad thing.

  She worked on a new flowerbed she had started on top of the clan’s cave home on Kalquor. As she did so, Miragin lounged under the shade of a nearby tree. The wind kept blowing sapphire-blue leaves around him, swirling them in complicated patterns about the recuperating Imdiko. He seemed oblivious to the dancing foliage as he sat on a reclining cushion, dictating his next book into a silver box that Elisa hoped recorded more of his voice than the gusts of wind.

  Miragin would regain full use of his arm, but the blaster shot had taken off a large chunk of it. It would take a few weeks more of cellular regeneration to fuse the replacement tendons and synthetic muscle and skin to the rest of his shoulder. After that would be plenty of rehabilitation. To Elisa, the Imdiko seemed perfectly happy to take his ease and work on a book detailing their adventures and the lessons he’d taken from the experience. She’d been just as happy to submit to rounds of questions about her take on the whole thing. Zemos and Oret, men of action and not words, could handle only so many interviews before losing patience with their clanmate.

  Despite enjoying his enforced relaxation when it came to having time to write, Miragin became frustrated with his inability to nurture the rest of the clan the way he thought he should. He pouted over Elisa cooking their meals and cleaning the clan’s home. When Elisa did what she considered ‘wifely’ tasks for the men, Miragin turned moody.

  “That’s my responsibility. I’m the Imdiko,” he kept saying with a scowl. “You have enough to do with your voice training and gardening.”

  Elisa tried to be understanding, but a few days ago, he’d finally gotten on her nerves with the grousing. “Quit whining,” she ordered. “I’m a dietician, remember? Planning and making meals is second nature to me. I don’t mind taking care of you three, either. It makes me happy.”

  “You’ve done enough of that. It’s your turn to be cared for. If this stupid arm would just heal—”

  She’d planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You know, you are exactly like an Earther man who’s sick. You all cry like big babies, as if no one has ever been ill before you.”

  Miragin stared at her. “I am nothing like an Earther man.”

  “You could have fooled me. Shut up, drink your coffee before it gets cold, and write. That and getting healthy are your only concerns right now.”

  The Imdiko’s mouth snapped shut. He had no answer to her orders.

  The exchange had amused Zemos and Oret to no end. The Nobek chortled, “Finally, someone who can successfully argue with him!”

  Zemos’ grin lit up Elisa’s world. “I was worried he’d try to overdo things once Oret and I went back on duty. Now I see our Matara will keep him in line.”

  Since that day, Miragin had kept quiet about Elisa doing the tasks he considered to be his. If he glowered from time to time, she chose to ignore it. She knew he really was unhappy about the situation.

  For her part, Elisa was in heaven. She took regular singing lessons, developing the voice that had been forced into silence these many years. She loved her new abode too. The clan owned a great swath of land in the foothills of a mountainous region of Kalquor, in the middle of which was the cave that made up their home. The cave was huge and thoroughly modern on the inside, with more conveniences than Elisa had ever known in her life. The kitchen alone was a marvel, allowing her to whip up extravagant meals with little effort, meals that made her men moan in contentment.

  “I will have to train twice as hard to get back into fighting shape before we ship out again,” Oret would sigh.

  “Me too, but it’s worth it,” was Zemos’ standard answer.

  As wonderful as the home was, much of its amenities paid for by Miragin’s successful writing, Elisa preferred the outdoor property. Rolling hills dotted by rainbow-hued leaves of tall trees made up the landscape. She’d missed being outside after years shut up in a space vessel. Her being cried out to escape indoor
confines as often as possible. For the first time in her life Elisa tried gardening. She’d started with a few pretty flowers she found in the nearby market. She found herself hooked on it, almost as much as with singing.

  “Make yourself happy,” Zemos had told her. “Plant all the blooms you wish on our property. Just remember, you can only use plants indigenous to Kalquor. We don’t allow alien life forms on the home planet.”

  “Except Earthers,” Elisa teased.

  He laughed. “I’m glad we make that exception.”

  She’d taken him at his word. Elisa had gone from planting one tiny plot to planning a garden worthy of a palace back on Earth. She’d plotted out rooms made of hedges, ponds with fountains, and even a vegetable and herb garden to supply their kitchen. Perhaps she was going a little crazy with the idea, but it made her happy. For their part, her clanmates encouraged her. They suggested specific plants for whatever theme she wanted in certain parts of her undertaking and helped her diagram plans.

  “It’s too elaborate,” she said, looking at the plans that illustrated ten acres worth of garden so far. “I’ll spend too much and it will never get done before I’m in the dirt myself.”

  “Money is not an issue for us. Besides, it makes you happy,” Miragin told her. “That makes it worthwhile.”

  Thus far, Elisa had made inroads planting her first half-acre, where she and Miragin were spending this particular afternoon in the steady wind. Fortunately, it wasn’t cold. Spring was firmly in place in this region of Kalquor, and the temperatures were perfect. Elisa’s project today was establishing a bed of acithyllic flowers. Their large, diamond-shaped petals were the same blue-purple shade of her clanmates’ eyes. They were stunning.

  She inhaled the perfume of one bloom with pleasure and listened to the wind in the leaves. Miragin had fallen silent, and she looked at him to see what had stopped him from dictating.

  The Imdiko smiled as he looked towards one corner of her growing garden. Elisa turned to see Zemos and Oret entering the area.

  Her heart leapt to see the pair returning home. They were both in sharp new uniforms and looked especially handsome. They’d gone into headquarters to find out when they shipped out to space again and to testify on Joseph Walker’s behalf.

  Elisa herself had spent half a day at the hearing against the former captain. She’d answered questions about what had happened on board the battlecruiser in the wake of Armageddon. She’d expected to be harangued by the prosecution, but the man investigating on behalf of the Empire’s fleet, a Dramok admiral named Tranis, had handled her as kindly as Walker’s defense attorney. She’d gotten the idea that rather than looking to put Walker away at all costs, Kalquor was intent on getting at the truth of what had occurred when Zemos’ ship had been attacked.

  They’d been similarly considerate at the hearings of the rest of the Earther crew. A few men, including the guard Ensign Larsen, had been cleared of all charges against them. Zemos’ surviving crew had all testified on Larsen’s behalf, insisting he had done nothing to harm them. The young man had sobbed like a child to hear them praising his kindness.

  Elisa’s testimony for Captain Walker had taken four hours. Zemos and Oret had been gone nearly ten today. She got up from the ground and took off her gloves. Pushing that errant tendril of hair behind her ear once more, Elisa went to the men to greet them.

  Feeling their arms around her and kissing them made her feel deliciously squirmy inside. Elisa pushed aside carnal thoughts, worried for Captain Walker’s fate. If he went to actual trial, he’d face the death penalty. Execution on Kalquor was known to be a nasty affair.

  Afraid of what her clanmates might tell her, she noted, “You were gone longer than I expected.”

  The two men escorted her over to Miragin. “Bureaucracy. Dramoks love their paperwork,” Oret said.

  “Not this Dramok.” Zemos smiled down at his Imdiko as they drew near. “How are you feeling today?”

  Miragin smiled back. “I think I’m almost ready to arm wrestle Elisa.” His smile faded as a shadow passed over his eyes. “Did you get your orders?”

  Zemos nodded. “We leave in four weeks. You should be in physical rehabilitation by then. We’ll barely be out of space dock when you and Elisa start fighting over who gets to take care of who.”

  Elisa’s heart plunged to hear how little time was left before Zemos and Oret went out on patrol. Miragin sighed for them both. “I can’t complain. Fleet Command was quite generous with your leave while I recovered.”

  Oret knelt at his side to tousle Miragin’s always messy hair. “Your injury, a new Matara, and being held prisoner for three months entitled us to a lengthy respite. Still, I’m in no hurry to go. I’m actually dreading it.”

  Miragin chuckled. “You’ll be stir-crazy from days of strolling the hills and planting shrubbery for Elisa before you know it. You’re nowhere near ready for retirement, my Nobek. The same goes for Zemos.”

  “You know us well,” Zemos smiled. “Still, I feel I could have stayed home a bit longer with the two of you.”

  Elisa didn’t want to think of Zemos and Oret going back to work. Even the promise of joining them three days out of each month during their shore leaves couldn’t raise her spirits. She’d have Miragin full time, but she wanted all three.

  Greedy, greedy, she told herself. You knew it was coming. They’re front-line military, and that means tours of separation.

  It didn’t make it easier to contemplate.

  She switched the subject. “How was Joseph’s hearing?”

  Zemos said, “It’s good news. The prosecution made a deal with his defense. He won’t stand a formal trial.”

  Elisa gasped. “No chance of execution? He’ll be spared?”

  Her Dramok nodded. “He had a lot going for him. He testified to everything he knew about the Basma and Holy Leader’s activities against the Empire, which may help us in finding both those men. The testimony you gave, along with that of a few of his crew, demonstrated the no-win situation he found himself in as the captain of a rogue vessel. His actions that helped save that Dramok crewmember’s life during the last fight were also noted. All the evidence has granted him a lenient sentence.”

  Oret said, “Walker will not even have to endure a penal colony. Rather than being remanded to a prison or work camp, he is to be placed in a rehabilitation center that caters to troubled Imdikos.”

  Elisa’s brow creased. “Rehabilitation?”

  Zemos nodded. “Admiral Tranis thought Joseph’s actions stemmed from mental and emotional damage rather than any real hostile intent. Psychological testing confirmed it. Joseph is overwhelmed by issues with his repressed sexuality. He also sees himself as powerless, with something of a victim mentality.”

  “Interesting,” Miragin mused. “I can see that diagnosis to a point. Ultimately, he did stand up for someone.” He smiled at Elisa.

  Oret pointed out, “He won’t do it for himself, however. That inability to defy flawed authority figures like Browning Copeland is what put us on Walker’s ship and nearly put us in the hands of Bi’is.”

  Elisa frowned at the mention of the Kalquorian Empire’s neighbor and sometime enemy. “What’s the word on Bi’is’ involvement?”

  The Nobek snorted derisively. “Their kingdom denies all allegations of seeking Kalquorian specimens, of course. They have told the Galactic Council they are investigating a potential ‘rogue’ research facility, acting independently of their government.”

  Zemos scowled. “Those little gray bastards are not to be trusted. Fleet Command knows it, and they’re beefing up patrols on our shared border with Bi’is. We’ll make sure no more Kalquorians are smuggled across.”

  Oret added, “The Galactic Council has issued a warning to Bi’is. Any evidence of experimentation done on member species will be dealt with. Kalquor’s threat was much more explicitly worded.”

  Miragin’s eyes narrowed at his clanmates. “That’s where you’re being sent, isn’t it? To the Bi
’is border?”

  He looked as unhappy with the idea as Elisa felt. Bi’isils might be physically small, but their technology was some of the most advanced of all known worlds. Altercations with the Bi’is kingdom would be deadly.

  Zemos’ expression softened at Miragin’s obvious fear for his and Oret’s welfare. He stroked the Imdiko’s hair as he answered. “That’s where the most experienced officers and crews are needed. I can’t keep you and Elisa safe if I’m sitting at home or flying friendly space.”

  Miragin’s lips tightened for a moment before he unleashed a huff of breath. “I know. I signed on for this decades ago, didn’t I?” He scowled at no one in particular. “It doesn’t make it easier, especially not after what we just went through.”

  They were all silent for a few moments, reflecting on the struggles of not so long ago. Elisa still felt the rawness of fighting for her and her men’s lives, of battling to survive just a few seconds more. It didn’t seem fair that they should be separated again so soon.

  Miragin’s naturally sunny disposition reasserted itself, and he was the first to smile again. “Only four weeks left, huh?”

  Oret gave him a fierce yet adoring grin. “It’s nice to know that even after three months of being penned up in a cell together, you haven’t tired of us.”

  Miragin arched a brow at the Nobek. His look was pure mischief. “Oh, you’re all right to be with for an extended period, I suppose. However, I was thinking more along the lines of having you around to help this poor old cripple enjoy his Matara. It’s difficult not being able to fetch her myself.”

  “Oh, you want this?” Oret scooped up Elisa, who squealed with delighted surprise. She squealed even more when he slung her over his shoulder. Carrying her the two steps it took to bring her to Miragin, he said, “I’m always glad to be of service, my Imdiko.”

  He deposited the giggling Elisa onto Miragin’s already lively lap. She protested, pushing against Miragin’s chest. “Hey! I’ve been messing around in the dirt! I’ve got it all over me.”