His Human Conquest (Captives of the Dominars Book 2)

by Stella Rising

  “But this doesn’t have to happen,” I announce. “The Dominar Empire reigns over countless planets like Earth, and species like humanity—peaceful, beautiful worlds and people that have prospered for eons. If you don’t believe me, we can go to these places and see for ourselves—or the Dominars can bring representatives here. The point is, we can live happily under their rule. Much will be expected of us, but nothing we shouldn’t expect of ourselves anyway: a commitment to justice, to helping those in need and protecting our planet so that it can be enjoyed for the generations to come.”

  Marchessault tries to hide her contempt for me, but her lips curl in a subtle sneer. “Ms. Wexler, you’ve lived with the Dominars for many weeks. In that time, how would you describe your treatment?”

  I don’t mean to, but I laugh. She wants to know if I’m speaking freely, or if Vol has threatened to torture me if I speak out against the Dominars. Fortunately, I think I know what to say.

  “I appreciate your concern, Ms. Marchessault, but let’s not mince words: you want to know if I’m here speaking of my own free will, and not under any threat of retaliation by Vol or anyone else. I’ve worried that this is what you would all think. So here’s the truth: since I’ve been on board their ship, I’ve slept in a cage more nights than I can count. I’ve been stripped in front of audiences like this, and have been subjected to corporal punishment on numerous occasions. I have been humiliated—bound, gagged, and used. For reasons I don’t quite understand, I have not only willingly submitted to this treatment, I’ve learned to enjoy it, and to use it to strengthen myself. I’ve also experienced bliss far greater than any ever given to me by a human. The Dominars are demanding, but caring, if Commander Vol is any example.”

  I look at him again, unable to hide a smirk. “Our relationship has had its trials, for which we’re both at fault. But when I’m with him, I feel safe, happy, and loved. And I believe the Dominars can make humanity feel the same way.”

  Vol reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m sorry for tricking you. It was wrong, and I should have known better. Can you forgive me?”

  “Yes,” I say, breaking out into a bright smile. “Thank you.”

  I love you, Jillian, he says through our nanites. You don’t have to say anything back, but I wanted you to know.

  Vol, I love you too.

  He pulls me in for a kiss, and for a moment I somehow forget billions of humans and who knows how many Dominars are watching us. All that matters is having him—being loved by him. I don’t think there’s anything else I need in the entire universe.

  Unfortunately, our moment comes to an end with loud, raucous jeers—boos and curses in dozens of languages. I break from Vol’s lips, turning to see the world representatives on their feet, shouting at us and pointing fingers. From outside, once again we can hear the discontent of thousands.

  Maybe this reaction was inevitable: humanity was never going to just accept Dominar rule without a fight. Maybe Vol and I shouldn’t have kissed in front of the whole world, salting the wound. I said what I had to say, and did the best I could. From Vol’s reaction, I don’t think he disagrees.

  Then an alarm goes off inside the audience chamber, a high-pitched squeal that hurts my ears. “What’s going on?” I shout.

  Marchessault puts her finger to her ear, listening to something. “Building security has been breached!” she yells back. “Protesters have forced their way inside. An immediate general evacuation has been ordered. Everyone out!”

  Before she even finishes speaking, Vol’s squad forms up in a circle around us, weapons pointing outward. Vol’s uniform splits, producing armored plates that arrange themselves to protect his body. My clothing seems to hum as the fabric tears, revealing armor underneath rapidly knitting itself together.

  Though Marchessault dashes for the exit, no one follows her. The representatives stay put, and the security guards train their guns at us.

  “What are you doing?” I yell at them. “Get out of here before we’re overrun!”

  “We’re not worried about that,” says one dignitary, a short man with a malicious glare. “It’s not us they’re coming for.”

  I turn to Vol. “We need to go.”

  I’ve called for an extraction, he replies. We need to get to the roof. Our mission parameters have not changed. Set your weapons for stun.

  Sir, Hallyx cuts in. Killing one or two humans may scare off the others, ultimately saving more lives.

  You’re right, Vol admits. But it is our last resort. And if killing cannot be avoided, I will be the one to do it. Understood?

  Yes, sir, the squad replies in unison.

  Why the roof? I ask.

  Scans show the streets are tightly packed, and the building’s surrounded. We need someplace clear enough for a shuttle to pick us up.

  But how do we get there?

  Vol scans the throng of ambassadors and soldiers, gritting his teeth. I’m working on it.

  A quick glance tells me there are more than a hundred people in the room—we’re vastly outnumbered, but that’s never been a problem for the Dominars before. We have shields and armor. Why don’t we just stun everyone and go?

  Friendly fire, Vol replies. We’re standing in a circle. If we fire on them, they’ll fire on us, likely hitting one another accidentally. I have a better idea.

  It’s a simple plan, and after a second, we execute it.

  Vol grabs me, and then activates the thrusters in his suit, propelling us up to one of the balconies above the audience chamber. The force of the thrust is so great, I feel like I’ve been punted. The wall of the room rushes at us so fast I scream in terror, but Vol simply grabs on and lifts us up the rest of the way.

  At the same time, the rest of the squad jumps to the other balconies, scaling the walls and climbing to the top. Surprised by our sudden breakout, the humans don’t react right away, but soon gunfire rains up at us. Dozens of bullets disintegrate in the air, melted by our energy shields; hundreds more rounds splinter the walls around us, but it’s of no matter. By splitting up the squad and heading for opposite ends of the room, the soldiers direct their fire outward, instead of inward, and manage not to shoot one another. In a matter of seconds, Vol, his squad, and I have all reached our balconies’ exits, escaping the mob below.

  Well done! I’ve got Jillian. We’ll rendezvous on the roof. Get going! Vol orders.

  Sir, there’s a problem.

  Vol and I look up to see Corporal Dutton Bradley and dozens of soldiers in our path, all armed to the teeth and ready to fire.

  Yeah, we’ve got one too.

  Bradley holds out a small remote with a glowing red button. At our feet stands a foot-long, bullet-shaped case with wires sticking out the top, leading to a small circuit board.

  The bomb, I realize.

  “Commander Vol, put down your weapons,” says Bradley. “The Dominar invasion is over.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Vol

  Nanite-driven adrenaline floods my system. My senses sharpen to the point that time slows, stretching Bradley’s words. A rush of power hits my body like a roaring river.

  All units, take them down.

  Before anyone has a chance to react, I step directly in front of Jillian, blocking her from the attack with my body. She may be protected by the best armor Dominar technology has to offer, but I’m not taking any chances with her life. I wrap my arms around her as the bullets fly. My armor’s feedback system pricks my skin all over my legs and back, telling me where and when the gunfire’s being intercepted by my shields.

  For half a minute, the human soldiers fire high-velocity, armor-piercing rounds, but none of it gets through. Spent casings litter the floor, smoking and smelling of burnt powder.

  Are they really such slow learners, or is it just Bradley? I wonder, remembering the first time the humans attacked Redeemer, with similar results. Do they know I was the one up there flying circles around them? Did they think today would go any differently?


  When they run out of ammunition, I turn around, still keeping Jillian at my back. Bradley continues to pull his gun’s trigger, clicking helplessly. His mouth hangs open in fear and rage.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” I ask him. “You could have killed her.”

  Bradley holsters his sidearm and brandishes the detonator.

  “Call it collateral damage in the war for Earth,” he seethes. “My men and I are willing to die to protect our home. We will be remembered as heroes who fired the first shot in the first battle, rallying humanity to rise up as one in defense of our world.”

  As he speaks, I can see his finger timidly extending toward the button.

  Don’t do it, Bradley.

  “Today the Earth will see that you’re not gods, that you can be defeated,” he continues. “They will see that it is better to fight and die than bow before your enemy…”

  Bradley, don’t make me do this!

  “…and the Dominars will remember the day their best wasn’t good enough!”

  Seeing the tip of his finger sliding to trigger the detonator, I draw my weapon and fire. To the humans, my motion must look close to a blur.

  Bradley seems to stand still for a second, then he collapses to the ground, dropping the remote, which clatters across the floor. Smoke rises from a small hole in his skull.

  I debated stunning him and keeping him isolated until I could send him to Vakhsa. Then I thought about what would happen if the bomb went off: war. Millions, maybe billions, of humans would be killed. Jillian could end up being one of them. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Surrender now,” I say to Bradley’s soldiers, keeping my aim trained and ready, though I’ve sent a command to reset for stun. Fortunately, the soldiers comply, dropping their weapons. Most of them do so staring at Bradley, still rocked by his death. Did they think I wouldn’t do it, or are they just surprised to still be alive?

  I don’t take any chances, opening fire. Five seconds and ten accurate shots later, I’ve knocked out all of them.

  “Jillian, are you okay?” I say, looking over my shoulder, where she’s crouched and covering her head.

  “I’m fine,” she says, getting back up. “What about everyone else?”

  “I’ll ask.”

  Squad, report in.

  We’re clear, says Hallyx. We have prisoners. No human fatalities. Are you and Wexler okay, sir?

  We are, I respond. One fatality.

  I’m sorry, sir.

  Thank you, I say. It had to be done. Now, get to the roof. Leave the unconscious. They’re not our problem.

  “Holy shit,” Jillian murmurs, peeking out from behind me. “You… killed him.”

  Holstering my gun, I turn to her. “I’m sorry. He could’ve hurt you. He could have started a war. I—”

  She interrupts me with a kiss. She tastes of nectar, and her skin feels hot against mine. She kisses hungrily, sucking my lip and inhaling my scent.

  “You saved… my life,” she says between kisses, nearly out of breath.

  “I’ll never… let anyone… hurt you,” I reply, wrapping my arms around her.

  We kiss for another minute that goes by too quickly. I could stay here with her, holding her tightly against me, for hours—but it’s going to have to wait.

  “Come on, pet. We’ve gotta go. We’ll pick this up later.”

  “Yes, sir,” she says, grinning.

  I lead us through a short series of halls, following a guide developed from scans of the building. We arrive at an emergency access hatch. Instead of climbing the ladder and opening the door, I activate my thrusters and burst through, just in case there’s anyone on the roof waiting for another ambush. Hovering briefly in the air, I survey the area, finding it clear.

  “Okay, Jillian, we’re good. Climb or jump up here!”

  “Jump?” she says. She may not realize her armor has built-in thrusters like mine.

  I laugh, almost glad I haven’t taught her how to use a Dominar combat suit. “I’ll catch you, pet!”

  “Catch me? How? I need to go up, not down!”

  She looks so adorable when she’s confused.

  “Trust me, Jillian. Just tell your nanites to give you a boost. I’ve got you.”

  She starts to say something, but stops herself, smiling. “Okay, sir. I trust you.”

  Then she does it, activating her thrusters and launching out of the building. Still in midair, I catch her. Jillian cackles as she hugs me.

  “Holy shit, that was incredible!”

  Laughing, I set us on a drift toward the rendezvous point. “You weren’t scared at all, were you?”

  “Oh, I was terrified. But you caught me.”

  “And you realize we’re still flying, right?”

  Her face pales a little. “Vol, for the moment I’m choosing not to look down. But if we could land soon…”

  Chuckling, I’m happy to grant her request, setting us down slowly and smoothly. A stiff breeze buffets us as we jog toward Hallyx and the shuttle. Cries and chants from thousands of protesters echo through the Manhattan skyscrapers.

  “Vol, I’m sorry the summit was such a disaster,” she says, wiping a tear from her eye.

  “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, Jillian. You were fantastic. I don’t think anyone could have done any better.”

  Looking sheepish, she says, “It probably wasn’t the smartest time to kiss you. You know, with the whole world watching.”

  I shake my head and take her hand. “There’s never a bad time for that. And I bet you, when people think of this day a hundred years from now, they’ll remember that kiss more than anything else.”

  “I hope so.”

  When we reach the shuttle, I shake hands with Hallyx and clap his back. Then we all get on board and lift high into the sky, quickly escaping the atmosphere to meet up with Redeemer in orbit.

  Jillian and I sit next to each other, surrounded by my squad. She leans her head against my shoulder, breathing softly.

  Vol?

  Yes?

  Thank you for what you said back there, about the trick. I appreciate it, and… apology accepted. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I didn’t know what to do.

  I nod at Jillian. You have nothing to apologize for. I should have done a better job of trusting you.

  Pulling her in for a kiss, I deactivate both of our armor suits. I want to feel her warmth all over mine. She settles into my lap, head rearing back as I nibble at her neck. Around me, I can hear some of my squad snickering. I tune them out.

  Jillian and I kiss until we reach Redeemer, and only stop once we’ve landed. As we disembark, a call comes through: Sabine Marchessault.

  “Everyone, gather round. Jillian, next to me. This ought to be good.”

  They get in position, and I patch through the call. Marchessault’s hologram materializes in front of us.

  “Sabine, glad to see you’re alright,” I say, trying to hide a slight amusement in my tone. She’s alive, though she’s a mess: her clothes are stained in multiple places, eye shadow runs down her face and her hair looks coated and greasy. If I had to guess, I’d say she hid in a garbage dumpster.

  “Yes, I’m fine, no thanks to you. Corporal Bradley is dead. It was one of your squad, I assume. You will turn this person in to stand trial, or you can forget about holding future peace talks.”

  I take a second to mentally applaud her willingness to make demands without having any actual leverage. That takes guts.

  “Ms. Marchessault, I’m the one who shot Bradley, and it was in defense of Ms. Wexler, myself, his men, and the entire Earth. Whether he acted of his own volition, or with the approval of his government, he lured my people into a trap, willing to commit suicide to kill us.”

  The woman blanches, swallowing something down.

  “As you know, I’ve taken great care not to kill until now. I’m furious that Bradley forced my hand. I hope in time you will agree that by protecting my people and yours, as well as preventing
a war between humanity and the Dominars, I did what was right. The Dominar Council will determine if I’m to face any disciplinary action, but since I violated no laws, I expect I’ll be fine. And there will be no human trial.”

  “But Commander Vol, you can’t just—”

  “I wasn’t finished, Ms. Marchessault,” I snap. “Since the summit ended prematurely, I didn’t have a chance to explain what comes next for humanity. You will go back to the leaders and nations you represent and begin drafting the formal wording of your total, unconditional surrender. If you do not, I will launch my own inquiry into whether Corporal Bradley acted on his own, or on behalf of someone else. Anyone who conspired to murder us in the midst of a peaceful negotiation will face the Dominar Council, and likely end up on a prison world. Is that understood?”

  Marchessault simply blinks for a moment, once again listening to whoever’s chattering in her ear.

  “Yes, understood,” she says at last, sighing. “For drafting the surrender, we’d like to ask for six months—”

  “You have twenty-four hours,” I say. “Good luck to you, Ms. Marchessault,” I add, cutting off the transmission.

  Jillian beams with pride as the hologram fizzles away. Grinning, I scoop her off her feet and sling her onto my back.

  “Vol!” she screams, clasping her hands around me to hang on. “Oh, my god, put me down!”

  “I don’t think so, pet,” I say, reaching over her back to give her ass a smack. “It’s time we had a little talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jillian

  Vol carries me all the way back to his quarters, where we start making out the second the door shuts behind us. Whatever talking he wants to do, it’s going to wait.

  He kisses me with a passion I’ve never seen from him before. Despite the calm he presented in front of anyone else, I think he feels shaken. Did our close call with Bradley really get to him? Is it possible he has some emotions to process after killing a man, and he wants to distract himself with sex? If so, I wouldn’t really complain—but I want to know for sure.