Claimed by the Zandian

by Renee Rose

  I had hoped to figure out a way to get her to freedom before she was old enough to be sold.

  But now it’s too late.

  Tarek

  “Captain, we’re clear to land. Our ship is masked as a Daglan trader.” I set the coordinates and snort. “Not that the tower cares. This planet cares little for interstellar treaties and fair treatment conventions.”

  Drayk clears his throat. “That lack of concern is a double-edged sword.”

  I nod, and use my mind-link to initiate the downward thrusters to our assigned spot on the tarmac. “They care neither about our provenance nor our security.”

  The ship barely taps as I maneuver it to the ground. “And we’re here.”

  There’s a moment of silence before our captain speaks. “Tarek will wait here and keep the ship ready to go. Zane and I will mask as traders and attend the auction.”

  Part of me wants to protest. Say that I’ll go with them and help win the girl’s safety. If needed, I’ll battle our way back to our ship.

  But no matter how spectacularly I can perform feats of navigation with my high-tech implants, I still falter out in the field. Lacking sight is a distinct disadvantage no matter how hard I train with our best warriors.

  I stiffen my jaw. “Understood.”

  “If we don’t make it back…”

  “You will.” I stand and cross my arms over my chest. “It’s not even a question.”

  “I agree. Nonetheless, you know the protocol.”

  I’d never leave without my captain, and he knows it. Still, I give him a curt nod. “Yes, Captain.”

  Another moment and they’re gone, leaving me alone. But there is much to do, and I bend over the consoles, checking and adjusting perimeter sensors. I’m handy with a stunner and any long-range weapon, as long as I can heat-sense a target in my proximity.

  And I’d do anything to keep my brothers safe on this mission.

  Zina

  They dressed her in a diaphanous gown that shows her slender body easily, and placed a floral wreath atop her head. It’s horrifically inappropriate, because she’s still an immature child. But her dazzling beauty, despite her tears and terror, is jaw-dropping. She’s clean, her pale skin scrubbed to a healthy glow and her short black hair falls in soft waves around her pretty face. I clutch her hand, darting my gaze around wildly, looking for any form of help.

  There is none.

  We are in a large echoing hall with a domed ceiling so far above us it’s like another planet, with skylights that let in the harsh mid-planet rotation sun. But the distance down is so vast, and the air so full of dust from the packed earthen floor, that the whole place takes on a surreal dream-like sense. A nightmare, once you glance around and see the countless females being sold, each on her own raised dais.

  Beside me, Enya whimpers. Her wrists are bound with soft rope; mine with a harder coarse weave that’s already cut into my wrists in a few places. Enya has a rope around her neck, too, a slip knot, the other end of which is attached to the standing metal pole on her dais. If she tries to escape, she’ll strangle herself to death.

  They didn’t bother with my neck. And the fools didn’t check my pockets. I still have that stone.

  “Any minute now they’re going to come in.” Her body trembles. We can hear the rabble outside the giant wooden doors, and the females who are free to move—some are tied down tight—all stare toward that entrance, their gazes sick with fear.

  “Silence!” The master auctioneer roars through a speaker. “Any slave who disobeys orders or tries to escape will be executed. We have plenty and will not miss a few. Be grateful you are not already dead.” He chuckles.

  The local floor auctioneer, who’s responsible for Enya and a dozen others, eyes us. Every male already in here, the guards and auction staff, want her. I’m sure he’d abscond with her in half a heartbeat if he could get away with it.

  I swallow hard, forming my plan. “Enya,” I murmur without moving my lips. “Here’s how we’ll do it. As soon as the door opens, the crowd will surge in. That’s when I’ll make my move. I’ll use the stone from my pocket to cut your wrists free of the rope, and I’ll take off the neck guard. Then you’ll grab my cloak, toss it over your head, and run.”

  I can see it in my mind already, her hiding her form and gleaming black locks under the drab cloth, running to the doors, lithe and fast. “You stay low and keep your face down, and run for the ships. Try to gain asylum on a Brogan or Di’inar; they’re reputed to be the fairer ones.”

  I take a deep breath and force the bile back down my throat. “I’ll... create a diversion here to buy you some time.” I’d run too, but my bad leg was injured further during the transport. I fear I would just slow her down.

  “I can’t go without you!” Her eyes are wide and glassy and her breath comes shallow and fast. She sways.

  “Enya.” I grab her hands hard and squeeze, making my voice harsh to get her attention. “You can and you will. You will get yourself to safety. Is that clear?” I imbue my tone with as much authority as I can muster.

  Her hands are so cold. Mother Earth.

  “They’ll kill me if I try.” Her voice rises.

  I glance around the room. “All of us are already dead.” By twisting my arms to one side, I can insert my hand into the pocket of my breeches. I palm the knife stone and breathe out. “But you have one last chance.”

  Under the guise of comforting her, I start to saw at the ropes that bind her wrists together. They put some kind of pitch glue on the knot so it can’t be untied, but my stone is sharp enough to make headway, I believe.

  “Do it for your mother. She’s waiting for you somewhere.”

  And as I say the words, I feel a strange warm glow in my body, as if my speech is true. In fact, I’d never believed her family is still alive; the chances are so slim. But as I say the words, it’s almost as if someone across the galaxy is nodding in approval.

  “All right.” Her voice is low but determined. “I will.”

  “You can do this,” I assure her. “All that running and jumping I’ve had you do in the fields? The practice maneuvers?” I’m no fighter, but I’ve created obstacle courses and fake grab attacks every planet rotation for her to try and avoid. “I believe in you.”

  “But I want you to come.” She looks up at me. “How will you get to safety, yourself?”

  I look away. “I will do my best to find another ship.”

  I’m not going to survive this. But she’s like my daughter, and I’d give anything for her, even my life.

  And then it begins. The gates swing open with a great rusty roar, and the stinking horde of males pours in, like a fetid tide of sewage. Immediately the hall is filled to the dome with shouts, screams, wails, laughter, and angry words as beings select slaves and fight with each other for the best picks.

  Enya is immediately surrounded. Too fast. I’m not nearly done with the first thick strand of rope, and already the auctioneer yanks her from my grasp. I’m barely able to pull my fist up into my sleeve to conceal the knife.

  “She’s mine, I saw her first,” snarls a squalid Ocretion with a warty chin.

  “Not if I want her.” A nearby Goth growls and taps his sword meaningfully, narrowing his three eyes. “And I will pay double the asking price in stein.”

  “I can give triple.” A Waq steps up, eyes leaking fluid, as his kind do in oxygen-rich atmospheres, onto the drop cloth he’s affixed to his chest.

  Enya moans and I can’t even touch her for comfort.

  “What’s that one with her?” A being gestures to me, face screwed up into an expression of distaste. “With the... leg.”

  The auctioneer smirks. “A freebie, bonus with purchase.”

  “Get her out of the way. She’s blockin my view of the pretty slave. And untie her neck so I can touch it.”

  The auctioneer rolls his eyes. “For quadruple the stein, I’ll do it.”

  The being produces money, and I’m unceremoniously d
ragged from the dais, and tossed to the floor at the auctioneer’s feet. He kicks me. “Stay,” he warns, his voice vicious, “until you’re needed, unless you want a dagger through your throat.” He kicks my face again for good measure.

  My side burns and I think maybe he’s broken a rib with his boot, but I right myself and try to stand. Maybe there’s still a chance to save her. At least in the fracas my hands have come free of the coarse rope.

  Now they’re reaching out, touching Enya: her face, her hair, her hands. When someone reaches for her breasts, I lose it.

  “No!” I roar, and with all my might, I stab at the closest being hard, in the place where his thighs meet his body, and twist.

  He goes down with a high-pitched scream so violent and sudden that I almost reel in surprise, and I stab again and again until suddenly I’m at the dais, and there’s Enya.

  “Come on,” I shout.

  “I’m injured! Fetch a medic!”

  The one I stabbed first in the gonads is in agony, and the crowd around rumbles and pushes.

  And for a split second, the attention is off Enya.

  It’s hardly the graceful thing I had hoped for, but I grab her, her hands still bound, and then stumble, the pain in my ribs making me tear up. “Oh, Mother Earth.” I manage to get my cape off and toss it over her head. “Run,” I urge her. “I’ll…”

  The pain in my side is a knife of fire. “Just go,” I wheeze, falling to my knees.

  “No. Not without you. If you want to save me, you save yourself,” she orders me, her voice stronger than I’ve ever heard it.

  She stands still and my heart freezes. “Enya,” I start. “My leg.”

  “Zina, we go together or not at all.” She pulls at my hands. “I’m not losing the only family I know.”

  There’s no time to argue, so I force myself to my feet, and dizzy with the pain, stagger beside her. “As soon as they notice us, I’ll create a distraction,” I gasp. When I touch my mouth, it comes away with blood. I wipe it on my breeches and a sudden surge of need gives me energy.

  “This way.” I pull her arm toward the wall, where there are no daises with slaves and the crowd is thinner. Beings are still rushing toward the place where Enya was, and then a cry—“She’s escaped! Find her!”

  “Mother Earth, we must hurry.” I swallow a mouthful of blood, iron and earth. “Enya.”

  Adrenaline dulls the pain and together we weave and dart, and it’s like we’re back in the fields on Ocretia, doing the training I created. It’s almost beautiful how we work together, and soon we’re almost at the door.

  We dodge a pair of Ocretions, only to run directly into two hard chests.

  “Pardon,” I mutter, putting up my hand, keeping my eyes down. “Excuse us.”

  Enya’s well-hidden under the voluminous cloak, and if we can just get past these two, we will have line of sight to the airfield—

  “No. Wait.”

  The first of the two speaks, his voice deep and commanding. “Let me see your faces.”

  “Keep going,” I whisper to Enya, and we try to sidestep.

  The second one grabs our arms, his hands so large and powerful that even my muscular bicep is like a twig in his fingers. “I said, let me see your faces.”

  He pulls up my chin. Horrified, I gaze at his face, which is silver and purple, warty. A Mauk. His eyes, though, don’t match the other Mauks I’ve encountered. They seem far more intelligent, inquisitive. Interesting color, too.

  “A human.” He turns to his companions and says something in a language I don’t understand.

  “The other one?” He taps Enya.

  “Let us go.” My voice is strangely firm.

  “You are runaways from a slave auction.” He regards me and his grip does not loosen. “You are either escaped slaves, or avenging warriors.” He looks me up and down. “And I tend to doubt that you are the latter.” A small smile twists on his gray lips. “Although you come close.”

  “Check her code. And do it fast.”

  “Keep your head down.” The first one slides the cloak from Enya’s head, and the two of them block her body from view as they check the numbers tattooed onto her delicate neck. I assume they want to keep this sudden bounty to themselves, but I’m curious about their strangely respectful touch—if you can count their demands and inspection as respectful. Still, there’s something oddly gentle about it—

  “It’s a match. Stars, we need to get her the veck out of here.” His tone is urgent.

  “You’re coming with us.” The first warrior flips Enya’s hood back up over her face and scoops her up into his arms. “Keep your face hidden.”

  “No!” she screeches.

  He growls. “Look, we’re not going to hurt you, all right? You just need to stay quiet or we all die.”

  My mind races. Mauk are less violent than other species, certainly better than the ones who were bidding on her.

  “Enya… go with them,” I implore her. “It’s better than… what’s here.” I look around the room, the vast expanse of misery, and my eyesight begins to go black. “And I can’t…” I suck in air. “Help… any… more.”

  I fall to my knees. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I won’t go without her. I won’t!” Enya’s voice quivers and rises to a scream and the first one slaps a hand over her mouth.

  “Veck, she’s loud.”

  “Take the other one too.”

  “Of course. We never leave a human behind.”

  Chapter 3

  Tarek

  “Mission complete, get us out of here—immediately,” Captain Drayk orders as he and Zane board the craft. I can’t see them, but my sensors pick up the forms of the two warriors, each carrying a small human female.

  I turn my attention to the controls and set the instruments for take-off.

  “Strap in for take-off,” I say mechanically.

  “No time, just go,” my captain barks, so I pull up on the controls and the ship shoots straight up. As the craft lurches, Drayk loses his hold on the female, or perhaps she fought her way out of his grip. Either way, her small body skitters across the craft and collides with me. My sensors register her size and shape. She seems to be a full-grown female, although quite small in size.

  My arm instantly bands around her waist, and I pull her against me for stability. “Easy, there. I have you.” The words come automatically and surprise me. I’m not one to interact much with females. I’m defective, and therefore unmatable. In addition, my size and normally gruff manner frightens off females of almost all species.

  Her body is soft, her scent pleasing, though tinged with blood and fear. It inexplicably makes my pulse quicken.

  Any moment now and she will register my size and sightlessness and scream to be set free.

  I hear her breath catch. To my shock and surprise, her fingers reach up and brush my horns.

  Ah, veck. I shift in my seat as my dick and both horns simultaneously stiffen. If she had any idea what that does to a Zandian male, she would keep her fingers far, far away from my horns.

  “You’re not a Mauk,” she says with surprise.

  Ah. Drayk and Zane went in disguised as the Mauk species.

  I should let her go now. We’re out of the planet’s lower airspace, heading out of Ocretion territory completely. The ship won’t lurch again.

  And yet my arm remains firmly around her. “We’re Zandian.” My voice sounds deeper than normal.

  Now she seems to come to her senses and pushes at me to be set free. I comply.

  “Come, human,” Captain Drayk orders, catching the female’s arm.

  I almost growl my irritation at the brusque way he handles her. But he’s the captain and I know he won’t harm them. I give a shake of my head to clear my senses.

  It’s strange for me to be so affected by a female—human or any species.

  “How are they?” All of my senses are on alert as I guide our ship past a gleaming nebula toward home, Zandia.

>   “Stable. Are we in safe airspace?”

  “Yes. Jumped to hyper as soon as we cleared the upper airspace. No tails.” I scan the area. “No ships in our vicinity.”

  “Good.” Captain Drayk’s voice is filled with relief. “Call Master Seke. I want to give him the news immediately.”

  “Yes, Captain.” I establish the comm line. “Ship A4 with urgent message for Master Seke.”

  “What is it?”

  I enable the holo form-fill so my shipmates can see him.

  “We have the young and she appears unharmed.” Captain Drayk speaks quickly, as if to allay any fears. “She’s… intact.” He swallows. “Mentally strained and suffering extreme anxiety, but… she’ll be all right.”

  “Excellent news.” Master Seke, usually reticent, has a tinge of jubilance in his tone. “I will inform Dr. Daneth. When do you arrive?”

  “In half a planet rotation.”

  We disconnect and I consider the mission. We were sent at considerable political risk and expense, not for official Zandian business, but rather, on a personal mission for a human. The mate of one of the king’s top advisors. Zandians are known for honor and logic, but the emotions of the humans we’ve taken in have affected us all. Even for me, the satisfaction of this personal mission is just as great as any battle for Zandia. Perhaps greater.

  “Do you suppose Dr. Daneth will tell his mate, Bayla, right now?” I imagine what is happening back on our planet. “How many solar cycles since she’s seen her daughter?” In my mind, a digital array of asteroids appears, and I adjust course to steer clear of them.

  Drayk shakes his head. “I believe she was raised to be a breeder. Her babies were taken from her at birth. She never even knew them. I think he will tell her now, to mitigate anxiety and prepare her.”

  I use my sensors to scan the area, and locate the two humans huddled together near the med pod. “The adult female is injured? I smelled her blood.”

  “The female suffered a broken rib and punch to the face. They both have a healing pack. The grown female has an older leg injury that would require special attention from Dr. Daneth, if it were to be repaired.” Drayk chuckles. “I’m not laughing at their injuries,” he adds. “But your sense of smell just gets better all the time.