Battle Queen: Red Ruler Series (Book 1)

by Kahaula

  Battle Queen

  Red Ruler Series (Book 1)

  By

  Kahaula

  Copyright © 2020 Kahaula

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover Art: Manuela Serra of Manuela Serra Book Cover Design

  About the Author:

  Kahaula is the Hawaiian Goddess of sexual dreams. Different people view Her and Her presence in different ways. I chose to use Kahaula as a pen name out of respect, and as a devotional to Her. I hope that my readers may also be inspired by Her.

  I am a Hawaiian woman with a voracious appetite for reading and found it challenging to find stories with which I could connect. Instead of complaining, I opted to start writing my own stories. Most of my stories are romance novels simply because I believe real adult connections should happen organically, just like they do in real life, instead of silly euphemisms or fade to black nonsense. I believe my stories are made better by being honest and open about what my characters want or don’t want. I also firmly believe that story comes first, pun intended. I write in many genres: urban fantasy, paranormal, sci-fi, alt-history, post-Apocalyptic, combinations of those and more. Maybe there will be a book or series that will appeal to you!

  If you enjoy my books, please leave a review! Make sure to always check the Author’s Message section at the end of my books to get the inside scoops on this book, any news, and forthcoming books.

  You can also join my Facebook Group:

  Kahaula Dreams Reader Group https://www.facebook.com/groups/355612275565596/

  Mahalo Nui Loa, aka Acknowledgements:

  Mahalo Na Akua.

  Mahalo to my Ohana who put up with me while I overthink everything and/or drag ass when I should be writing.

  Mahalo to my Alpha Bitchez Amber, Kaci, & Wanda—and your practically divine patience, I lava your faces! You can’t get out of reading everything I write now, muahahaha!

  Hawaiian Language (Olelo Hawaii) Guide:

  The Hawaiian words in this book usually have their definition within their own sentence or are contextually understandable. I also use the older style of writing Hawaiian that does not include the use of Kahako nor Okina.

  Hawaiian is an extremely high context culture language so I don’t often recommend direct translations, however, I do recommend wehewehe.com if you are looking for a versatile online dictionary.

  Battle Queen

  Red Ruler Series (Book 1)

  About the Author:

  Mahalo Nui Loa, aka Acknowledgements:

  Hawaiian Language (Olelo Hawaii) Guide:

  Prologue

  Welo

  Welo

  Welo

  Welo

  Welo

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  Welo

  Hs’Tar

  Welo

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Merooth

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  Hs’tar

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  L’Ryx

  Hs’tar

  Merooth

  L’Ryx

  Welo

  Mel

  Ally

  Welo

  Epilogue: Mel

  Song List

  Author’s Message

  About the Author:

  Books by Kahaula

  Prologue

  4 Planetary Rotations Ago

  The noise is deafening. Pounding. Screaming. But the loudest of all is the scrape of metal. My head is throbbing and I feel disoriented. Sound seems to echo in this dark corridor but the light at the end stabs through my lashes as I try to open them. I know now why I feel disoriented; I’m being carried. The grip on my upper arms is punishing. Looking down instead of attempting to look ahead at the bright light, I can see that the scrape of metal I heard earlier are chains. My chains. Long and heavy chains drag between the metal cuffs on my wrists, cuffs so big they might as well be called gauntlets.

  Human Trafficking. I give myself only a moment to feel my gut twist up in knots at what horrors must await me. Rape. Torture. Forced drug addiction. Maybe worse? Chains like these don’t sound like any human trafficking I’ve read or heard about in the news, but then again there are some sick fucks out there in the world.

  I can feel my lip curl in rage.

  In this moment I know that I’ve made my decision about my fate. Whatever’s going to be done to my body, at least I can try and protect my mind. Everyone breaks, but I will endure and rebuild my soul, if I have to. Opening up my senses to what’s going on around me is the first step. I need to makaala, be alert and keep my head in the game, so I can get free if that ever becomes possible.

  My brow creases in confusion. I thought because I feel like I’ve been drugged and was being dragged that that pounding sound was maybe my own heartbeat. No, there’s no confusing it now. It’s pounding like you’d hear at a stadium or a major sporting event. My heart turns to ice and my breathing stutters. Is this some sort of fighting ring where rich sickos pay to see women kill each other? Looking down at my naked body I rethink my first thought. Or are women used as incentive for the fighters?

  This whole situation is pissing me off even more now. My captors have stopped walking and have ripped me up onto my feet. My jaw drops and I can only blink.

  Aliens?

  I’m either losing my shit on whatever they dosed me with or my two ‘captors’ are heavily muscled green and black lizard men. They’re both hissing and making clicking noises at me but when they start dragging me along is when I get the message—you’re awake, so walk. I keep sneaking glances at them in the hopes that this is a sick joke or some fetish kink I have never heard of before. Ok, so I can either waste time on denial or work with what I’ve got because at the end of the day I’m obviously still a prisoner. Their prisoner.

  They’re both bipedal and seem to be wearing a similar, if tattered, uniform of thick black boots and concrete grey pants. They’re not wearing shirts but they are wearing what appears to be a bunch of random black straps that hold various objects. The shape of their bodies appear to be similar to a human’s except even at my 6 foot and 190 pounds they tower at least a foot over me and they’ve not a single bit of fat. They’ve got thick muscles covered in various shades of green and black. Their skin is rough where they’re holding me, abrasive, no doubt from the tiny scales all over them. Neither has hair, their skulls are similar to my own but their noses are flatter. They have flatter lips as well. Their eyes are just like that of a gecko. The one on my left’s got mostly an electric blue, while the one on my right’s a kind of burnt orange.

  Left’s caught me looking and smiles. His teeth are all sharp and pointed but I can see his black tongue just moments before he leans in and licks along my cheek. I don’t speak whatever language they do, I’m probably not even physically capable of it. But I do understand ‘lecherous asshole’. There wasn’t much spit left on my face but I make sure to lock eyes with him when I reach up to wipe my cheek and flick my fingers on the ground in a clear sign of ‘go fuck yourself’. His hissing and clicks start up, angrier as he leans towards me. Righty hisses something back at him and he sneers.

  I hear
screaming and weeping up ahead and I’m now able to see that the light from before is sunlight, harsh and white. Before I know what’s happening I’ve been shoved by both of my guards onto hot sand. I can see other human women, one’s rocking back and forth crying. I sigh. Like that’s going to help. I scan the other naked and chained women, seeing that it’s not just humans. I hear the roar of a crowd and spin as I look up and around me. It’s like some sort of science fiction version of a colosseum.

  I laugh so hard my eyes begin to water. The other human women look at me like I’ve had a mental break. One, a pale woman with short brown hair, comes forward to try and awkwardly pat my back. I just laugh harder and even bend at the waist.

  “You gonna be ok there chuckles?” I just smile at the woman and shake my head.

  “When they were dragging me here I thought to myself—oh no, I’ve been kidnapped and sold by human traffickers,” I can’t contain my smile.

  “And that’s funny, because...?”

  “Because I was sort of right,” I pause to laugh and wipe more tears from my eyes, “this is literally human trafficking.” We both pause for a moment just looking at each other before we both start laughing.

  “Well, fuck. That is kind of funny, chuckles,” the woman smiles.

  “No, it’s not.” The sharp reproachful reply comes from the long haired blond close to us.

  “Fuck’s sake, blondie. Of course none of this is fucking funny,” I snarl, “We’re obviously either bait or prizes for the fighters—or the owners of those fighters,” she inhales sharply at my harsh response. “We’re probably going to be figuratively and literally fucked. And praying for death, long before it ever comes.” I nod to the woman with the short brown hair then flick my gaze back to the blond, “I’d rather go laughing and trying to kill my owners than crying like some mewling helpless bitch.” Apparently my voice has carried enough that the other women are looking at me in shock. Whether it’s what I’ve said or how I’ve said it, is irrelevant. I give them all a hard dead stare, “I intend to survive. Denial and hopelessness are not conducive to survival so I won’t waste energy on it.”

  “I like you,” the short haired brunette says with a wry smile. I just give her a saucy wink and look back at the sands ahead of us. The two opponents are too far away for me to make out but they’re definitely fighting hard. The match has come to an end and a tall scarred alien lumbers forward towards us as the crowd goes wild. We’re being kept in a pen of sorts, I can see the other females that aren’t human pressing as far away from the edge as they can. Yeah, they know what’s coming. Probably that big gladiator into whatever prize cunt he picks. His skin is as black as space and he’s at least over 7 foot tall. His body is riddled with old scars with gashes he’s currently bleeding from all over his body. If he weren’t a rapist I’d say he was one of the finest male specimens I’d ever seen.

  He’s reaching into the pen trying to get to a beautiful female who’s skin looks like all the pastel colours of spring were watercoloured over her body, her hair a light shade of pink. Bird like trills and screams are coming from her beak mouth as he just laughs and reaches. I’m about to do the dumbest shit I’ve done in my life, and it will probably be the last thing I do as well.

  I pull myself up onto the lip of the pen and shout at the male.

  I am a fucking idiot. Or more accurately I’m an idiot who’s probably about to get fucked by an alien because I stood up and practically volunteered in the pastel female’s place when I caught his attention. He bares his broken and pointed teeth at me in what I assume is a smile. I give him my feral smile in return. His hands are no longer reaching. This fucker is practically sauntering over as if I was totally looking forward to getting raped by him today. I keep smiling, because I know something he doesn’t. I have zero fucks left to give. I’m on an alien planet. I’ll probably never see my home ever again. My parents will wake up to my cat crying for food and they’ll realise that I’m not home. Then, they’ll realise I’m never coming home.

  I put my hands on the male’s shoulders as he rests his hands on the pen wall. In a move that surprises not only myself but also the crowd, I launch over him and spin dropping down all my body weight via the chain now looped on his neck onto what I’m praying is his windpipe. It seems I got more than just lucky, when I hear a snap as well. Silence seems to reign as I get up from my crouch behind his lifeless body. I can see the reptilian aliens running towards me from the tunnel I was dragged through. I don’t know what compels me, adrenaline most likely, but I put one foot on the male’s chest and raise my chained hands up and shout. The crowd roars in approval. New chanting has started up and I see the guards have slowed down.

  Seems the loser of the match thinks this is his opportunity. Fuck that bullshit. I grab up the sword looking thing on the dead male’s body. If I’m going to be raped it won’t be by some second place loser.

  I don’t know if it’ll work but I try the sword on my chains. It not only weighs less than my cellphone, but it also cuts through my heavy chains like paper. I laugh darkly to myself, hello beautiful. Everything about this situation is insane. I’m not going to magically become a sword wielding badass because I picked up a dead guy’s sword. The loser male is waving his own sword around and I can tell from his stance he’s mocking me. Also, grabbing what I assume is his dick as he talks is a big clue. I don’t know what he’s saying, but I can tell he’s playing to the crowd.

  I do know one thing this asshole doesn’t; I sure as fuck want to live a hell of a lot more than him. I’m not here to give a good show, I’m here to survive. While he’s distracted using his free hand to cup himself again I start to run straight for him. He’s laughing but I can tell his eyes are steady. I make like I’m going to swing from left up and across his torso then at the last minute dive right between his legs and punch my sword straight up and into his body.

  “Not laughing now, are you asshole!” I sneer. I slip the sword out at the same time his inverted knees give out. From behind him I can see the crowd teeming in the stadium. I grip his thick yellow hair and give a quick swipe that separates his head from his body. I put my foot on his crumpled form and lift the head and sword above me in victory. The crowd is losing their shit and the guards that ran in initially are looking a bit more hesitant at the cheering crowd. There seems to be a chant or repeated noise at least, again and again from the crowd.

  Another set of guards have come onto the sands but there’s an extra member, one with better clothes. He speaks and his hissing and clicks reverberate throughout the stadium, his hands spread out as he turns. He’s the showman. The chanting intensifies and he motions for me to come to him. My chest is heaving, but even I know I couldn’t take them all on at once. So instead I hitch the bloody dripping sword on my shoulder and take my time before I drop the head at his feet. Again the crowd goes wild. One of his men has a metal tray with a thin pipe on it. The guard makes to step forward but I lift my sword and point it at him.

  The leader takes the thin pipe off the tray and motions to the back of his ear and then his lips. I put the sword back on my shoulder. The thin pipe is some kind of injector for a translator. Or he’s miming something else entirely, but here’s hoping anyways. He grips my chin then I feel a stab. I shake my head and sway a bit. So, not a translator. A sedative.

  “Take her to...,” his words fade out as it’s replaced by all the sounds threatening to overwhelm me.

  “What the fuck?” I hear myself say. But that’s not all I hear. So many sounds are around me now—no, not sounds, voices. I can hear the crowd. I can understand what they’re chanting now.

  “Battle Queen Breeder! Battle Queen Breeder!”

  Welo

  I’m drowning in fucking contracts.

  My eyes shifted between three transparent screens on my stone block desk. If not for the technology on and hidden within it, my desk could easily be confused for some ancient altar. The entire complex was made from the same material. Its natural colour o
f tawny gold and tan was splashed with wide veins of deep red, making it truly look savage. Everyone who stepped off their ships called it the Blood Palace.

  I’m sure it also didn’t help that all the glass in the windows were made from the native red sands, casting the complex’s insides and outsides in varying shades of sanguine beauty. For me, it was just home. Now, anyways. Sitting here proof reading pleasure, breeding, and gladiatorial contracts was taking up more and more of my day. Not once did I ever think being buried under mind numbing paperwork was where I would be after I first hit the viscera soaked sands of the arena.

  “Commander Melinda, Planetary Security.”

  I huffed and purposefully ignored the computer’s announcement of who was outside my office. If it wasn’t life threatening, I didn’t want to hear it. I had enough on my list of things I had to get done today. “Commander Melinda, Planetary Security. Commander Melinda, Planetary Security.” I felt an inhuman growl vibrate my chest. I needed to calm down, the itch to rip out Mel’s trachea through her mouth was too tempting.

  “Enter!”

  The solid stone door, four feet wide and weighing literally a ton, slid silently open and closed. The technology we now had on the planet really was a beautiful marvel. I could have chosen blast resistant doors made from bio-regenerative material. But why spend all those credits on a door when I could spend it on planetary defence drones and solar system mine fields? Besides, if my own office door was a target of a breach attempt the stone would serve its purpose long enough for me to escape through one of the many hidden tunnels within our complex. There was also something comforting about all the stone around me, it kept me grounded.

  “You’ve got your frowny face on, chuckles,” smiled Melinda. I blew out a breath through my nose and sought that grounded feeling as I continued to type and look from screen to screen.