OVERMIND (Fallen Drakon Empire Book 1)

by Diana Drakulich

  As if she felt the weight of his stare, the woman stopped and looked up. High up, straight into Varkov’s golden eyes. Even now in her diminished state, she projected an aura that radiated from her in tangible waves.

  Meeting the rebellious slave’s eyes for the first time, Varkov found himself taken aback. As if their positions were reversed. Now he was being studied - not by a mere slave, but by an unknown entity. At that moment they both felt a vibrating connection. A moment of hyper awareness.

  Aye this Human female interested Varkov. Presented a challenge to his higher Arkon intellect and telepathic mind control. If she can be trained to embrace being a sex slave she will live longer. But she can’t lay there like a sack of sand. Our men need the adrenaline rush of Struggle. Pain. Domination.

  He turned to his junior officer, “Darren, tell the guards to have #133213 bathed and sent to my quarters tonight.”

  “Aye Captain Varkov.” 2nd Lieutenant Bren saluted crisply, allowing himself only a barely perceptible supercilious smirk.

  Five years Varkov’s junior, Darren Bren was his first cousin, the son of his father’s brother. When it came to power and influence, the Arkons were firm believers in keeping it all in the family.

  “Darren - When was the last time you got your rocks off? I mean besides your 15 year old coming of age ceremony, 7 years ago?” Varkov grated out, sensing his cousin’s distaste.

  “Do I look like I have any problem getting a woman to you - IF and WHEN I want one?” Darren was devilishly handsome. But he had one defect, a touch of impure blood. It showed in his eyes. Unlike the golden eyes of Arkons, Darren’s eyes were a greenish gold, like the eyes of a feral wolf.

  “Why would you want to have sex with a beaten, abused slave Varkov?” Darren continued. “Humans are dirty. Disease-ridden.” His voice dripped disgust.

  “Maybe I’m just a dirty guy.” Varkov shrugged. “Besides the slaves are all regularly tested. Why don’t you take that stick out of your ass? Let your beast out to play sometime.”

  Ever the twitchy, aggressive Arkon, Darren stiffened at the implied insult. “You’re not even full bred Arkon. Your father consorted with some Drakon bi-”

  “Watch it Darren. You could find yourself ass deep up shit creek. I don’t take insults, especially not from you.”

  “You think you can insult me anytime you want and get away with it?” Darren’s golden-green eyes blazed as he automatically squared up against his cousin.

  “Oh excu-uze me for impugning your `manhood’.” Varkov glared.

  If it came to that, a fight between Varkov and Darren would be a battle royale. Like most Arkons, both men were tall, around 6’5” with black hair and golden skin. Varkov had a slight edge, being broader and more muscular, but Darren was whip fast and his skills as an assassin were lethal.

  Varkov decided to play it down. “Relax Darren I was only joking. Can’t you take a joke?”

  Darren pointed to his face. “Do you see me laughing? You may be my commanding officer Varkov but don’t try to play me. We both know exactly what you were implying.”

  “Alright forget it. I like seeing you walk around with that stick up your ass.”

  Releasing a snort of devilment, Varkov turned toward General Bren’s office. Father is going to be furious when he hears my report... Mentally slapping himself for wasting valuable time arguing over a slave, Varkov continued on to the general’s office.

  Darren’s green-gold eyes narrowed as he followed just behind the captain. Just keep it up Varkov. You’ll find out…

  Chapter 2

  Over a month ago, Varkov’s brother Sava had disappeared while on an overflight to map earthquake fault lines along the California - Nevada border. Located deep underground, the Middle Kingdom had become extremely wealthy mining gold, diamonds and strategic minerals for export to the home planet, Drakonis, located in the constellation Drako, the Dragon.

  Drakonis was dominated by two tribes of the same people, both highly advanced and telepathic. Two tribes who hated and warred against each other - Drakons and Arkons. It was the Drakons who first settled Earth and built Atlantis. 10,000 years ago, after a long and brutal war, the Arkons destroyed Atlantis and forced the Drakons out of earth.

  Last night General Bren had received a telepathic communication from his elder son, Sava. With the help of a female medtech, Sava had escaped the underground military lab outside Las Vegas, Nevada where he was incarcerated.

  The general had arranged for Varkov to fly in and pick Sava up during the night at the Red Rock Canyon Wildlife Refuge outside Las Vegas. Varkov had waited there all night in a cloaked space plane, but his brother never showed.

  Drawing a breath, Varkov stopped before the fire serpents engraved on the bronze double doors that marked his father’s office. His firm knock echoed, resounding ominously, as if he were about to enter the sacred temple of Molek, God of the Dark Side.

  “Enter.” Came that deep commanding voice.

  “Wait here Darren.” Varkov told his 2nd. This news was personal, for the general’s ears only. Striding forth on long muscular legs, Varkov entered the general’s den, the heavy doors thudding shut behind him.

  Standing straight, feet at shoulder width, Varkov saluted the general with a nod and tap of fist over heart.

  Glittering golden eyes like chips of titanite swept across Varkov, then behind him.

  “Where is Sava?”

  “He never showed.”

  “What happened?” The general’s ruthless expression hardened. He projected an intimidating presence, even to Varkov.

  “He sent me a mental communication. He’s going back to Drakonis.”

  “Drakonis is 231 light years from earth. His space plane was wrecked so he can’t use a worm hole. How does he expect to get back there?”

  “Through the old Drakon stargate at Lake Mead, Nevada.”

  “That Fool.” General Bren shook his head. That stargate hasn’t been used in years. It’s a 100 foot fall off a sheer cliff if he tries to walk through but can’t activate it.”

  General Bren had become involved, (Not loved. Never loved) with a Drakon female when he was assigned to a diplomatic mission in Drakonia. They never married, but she had borne two sons by him, Sava and Varkov.

  When General Bren left Drakonis for Earth, he spirited away the two young boys, ages eight and six. Kidnapped them via the same secret stargate Sava hoped to use to return to Drakonis.

  Both tribes were Strigoi - Life Force Feeders. Despite being the same people, Drakons and Arkons were divided by the gods they worshipped. Gods who were essentially different aspects of the Force. Arkons followed the Master-Slave mentality of blood sacrifice to Molek, God of the Dark Side.

  The Drakons worshipped Monad, `The One’, God of Light symbolized by the Sun or fire dragon. They practiced a more benevolent Master-Servant strategy to control the humans whom they had developed from primitive hominids using their own DNA.

  For 10,000 years the Arkons had maintained the Domination of Earth from underground. They used hybrid Human-Arkon agents to control the world wide `Deep State’. But there was always that 10% of humans to watch out for. The one in 10 who were natural born leaders of the pack. Of that 10%, the Arkons most feared the 1 in 1,000 humans who would not be duped, blackmailed or coerced. Death was the only way to deal with them and they were ruthlessly weeded out.

  Varkov had a sneaking suspicion that the quietly rebellious female Vera might be one of those 1 in 1,000. Or is she just too stupid, too dull to respond to pain-pleasure stimulus?

  Now General Bren’s own son Sava had betrayed him. Betrayed his vows of service to the Middle Kingdom. This put Varkov himself under increased scrutiny. He would have to watch his step when it came to fraternizing with the human slaves.

  As a boy, Varkov had only been vaguely aware that Sava was struggling to adapt to the harsh Arkon mental and physical conditioning. But through a rigid regime of punishment and occasional rewards, their father succeeded in train
ing his elder son. Or so it seemed.

  From the beginning, Varkov realized, their father had subtly worked to drive a wedge between the two brothers. To push them into unrelenting competition, thereby weakening the filial bond between the brothers.

  I knew Sava was unhappy but I didn’t care. I never tried to help him adjust. I always competed with him. Undermined him. Used his pain as an opportunity to make myself look stronger and win Father’s favor.

  Arkon society was based on supreme loyalty to the Middle Kingdom. Emotional ties to family were discouraged as weak. Warriors must be strong. The Master Mentality required ruthless competition. The struggle ongoing and unrelenting.

  Unlike Sava, Varkov had no problem adapting to the Arkon way of life. He was emotionally detached by nature. Emotions, especially Love made you weak. Love marked the loser mentality of the human slave race.

  Slaves like Vera Mackenzie who labored their lives away in the mines of Middle Kingdom were not allowed the luxury of loving relationships. Love fostered intense loyalty, illusions of self-sacrifice and could even result in violent rebellion.

  On the Earth’s surface the ignorant Humans bred like rats in their billions, whereas the Arkons were relatively few. Human populations had to be regularly culled through devastating wars, famines, drugs, disease and imprisonment.

  But with the loss of his brother, something grey and harsh took up abode in Varkov’s breast. As if someone close to him had died. And maybe he had. Varkov flashed on a vivid memory of his mother - He was holding his mother’s hand as they walked down an unknown street in Drakonis. It was a bright sunshiny day. He looked up at her in awe as she strode along, so full of life. Of spirit.

  MOTHER you are beautiful. He had thought in his boyish mind. He had never forgotten that moment. Only suppressed it.

  Chapter 3

  “Do you ever miss Her? My Mother?” He asked his father.

  General Bren’s jaw clenched. He did not answer but Varkov saw that telling muscle in his jaw jump. This was how his father expressed emotion.

  “Don’t worry Father. I won’t leave you.” Varkov reassured, as he mentally erected a wall to prevent the telepathic general from reading his tumultuous thoughts.

  However Sava’s decision to flee Earth had turned Varkov’s world upside down. Made him question everything, especially himself. I always competed against Sava. I used his pain as a way to make myself look good to Father. Now my brother is gone. What is there to prove?

  He fought to shake off the black cloud hovering over his head, squeezing his heart. What is this I feel - Sorrow? Regret? Loneliness for my Mother? My Brother? Nay. I feel nothing. Nothing. Feelings, attachments confuse logic. Lead to weak actions. Like my brother took.

  General Bren stared at his son, those penetrating golden eyes searching, trying to pierce his very soul. Varkov silenced his thoughts. Smoothed his face into its usual expressionless mask. If his father got any idea of his true thoughts, he might be put under surveillance. If he wasn’t already.

  “Be careful Varkov.” Was all the general said.

  But that was enough. Varkov saw the warning in his father’s eyes. Then he was dismissed from the general’s presence.

  Chapter 4

  Pressing all her weight on the heavy pneumatic drill, Vera stood at the bottom of the vast open pit gold mine. Rivulets of sweat poured down her face, stinging, blurring her eyes. She could only dream of a glass of cool water or a shower. Bathing was only allowed once a week. Water twice a day with the slop the guards called food.

  Then she sensed Eyes upon her.

  Turning Vera looked up at the walkway high above. Even from that distance the dark vitality the Arkon projected was stunning. Intangible currents of tortured energy descended over her consciousness like an invisible shroud. Willing her to go on, to fight for life.

  Vera had felt the eyes of the young Arkon officer brush over her before but never thought much of it. Then she noticed the Arkon standing next to him. Two sets of eyes were studying her every move. The presence the second Arkon projected was even more malevolent than the first. This did not bode well.

  Moving a few steps closer to the male slave drilling next to her she asked in a low voice -

  “Who is that? Him - over there.” She pointed subtly with her chin toward the watching Arkon.

  The man risked a quick glance over his shoulder then spoke facing the rocky wall. “Him? That’s General Bren’s son, Varkov. Stay away from him. If you can. They say he’s cold and cruel. The other one is even more dangerous. That’s Darren Bren. Both are pilots but I heard Darren is also an assassin. Nothing unusual in that. Those demons learn to kill with their mother’s milk - If they even have mothers.”

  Despite the heat a cold chill ran down Vera’s back. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. This ‘Varkov’ wants to break me. He sees me as a challenge to his `superior Arkon intellect’.

  So far she had succeeded in blocking them all out, to a degree. Maybe the other one, Darren, will be his partner in crime. God, keep me strong. Don’t let them come after me.

  Why don’t they leave me alone! Just let me die down here. I’ll be no man’s sex slave to be daily raped and tortured by these demons. These Arkon demons love inflicting pain. They feed on the screams of the helpless. I won’t beg and plead for them.

  Yet she also had the strange feeling that Varkov had more than a sadistic attraction to her. Something about his bearing. The way he watched her. She sensed his curiosity about her. It’s probably just my imagination, but this `Varkov’ could be my chance to escape this hell hole.

  Ankles chained leg to leg with 50 other female prisoners Vera was marched back to her cell. Unlike the other women who stayed in barracks, she shared a small dark cell with one other woman. Kriss was loud, stocky, greedy and abusive. But only when she could get away with it. Which meant she sought to wreak her psychopathic anger and dominance on Vera when the lights went out.

  Just last night Kriss jumped Vera as she slept wrapped in a thin blanket on the cold floor. Launching herself onto Vera’s chest, the woman’s heavy body knocked the breath out of her.

  “Oof! Get off me BITCH!”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Kriss hissed. Slapped Vera’s face. Hard. One side then the other. “From now on you just take IT! Slap. You hear me?!” Slap. “From now on you do as I say. Now strip!”

  “No!”

  Slap. “Do it. Smack. Strip goddammit! Now!”

  “Okay! Okay! Get off me so I can take my clothes off!”

  “Don’t you dare try anything!” The woman’s hot spittle splashed Vera’s face.

  “Alright, alright. Just get your fat ass off me!”

  Kriss moved back. Breathing hard, Vera sat up too. Her hands went to the hem of her tshirt to lift it up. But then, swift as a striking snake, Vera hit the stocky woman with a devastating throat-punch.

  Holding her throat, lurching back in shock and pain Kriss gasped and coughed.

  Ripping off the braided string that held her ponytail, Vera leapt up to crouch behind Kriss. Painstakingly braided from threads pulled from her blanket, this string was Vera’s only defense.

  While masquerading as a hair tie, in emergencies this simple piece of braided string could be used as a bloodless, soundless, lethal weapon. A garotte.

  In a flash Vera had the garotte wrapped around Kriss’ throat and pulled tight from both ends.

  Within three seconds Kriss slumped to the floor, unconscious.

  Basic self defense training had taught Vera there was no need for prolonged, messy choking. Pressure on the carotid artery was quick and lethal. If she kept the garotte tight a little longer, Kriss would be brain damaged, or die.

  But Vera did not dare kill the other woman, even though her blood was furiously boiling for revenge. No, this had to be a lesson in submission for Kriss. The guards would punish Vera severely if the woman died. Although Vera had no doubt the guards had put Kriss up to it.

  If there was one thing Vera had
learned about her captors, they were sadists. The Arkons fed on pain and suffering. It began when they put her in training as a submissive sex slave. Never.

  That was when Vera Mackenzie began to learn the power of passive resistance.

  Look for OVERLORD on Amazon – to be published June 2017