by Reagan Woods
She dove back out into the street but her body never hit the ground. Something was holding her up by the top handle of her backpack. Using her fists and nails she began scratching and punching at the giant fleshy fist that seemed to have seized her.
“Enough!” her captor roared.
Going limp, Arianna let the brute have the full force of her weight. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but she wasn’t going to make this easy on the bastards. Slowly, she was lifted to face the alien like a disobedient puppy dangling by the scruff of its neck. The alien’s frightening metallic eyes were suddenly glowing close enough to cause her to flinch. Reflexively, she struck out with the butt of her gun. Catching the big bastard in his temple with her blow, she was unprepared for the incredibly long drop to the ground.
Scary Eyes howled and immediately grabbed for her again. Apparently, she needed to work on her pistol whipping technique. She could have shot him but her goal was escape. She didn’t want to give them further reason to pursue.
Just as she gained her feet and braced to run, another giant materialized out of the shadows. He grabbed her upper arms in a steel hard grasp and stripped the gun from her hand.
“Let. Me. Go.” She growled when he swung her around to face his bloodied friend.
Fun fact: alien blood is red, too.
“Got you pretty good, didn’t it?” the one holding her said in English tinged with a funny accent.
English?
“Violent little fiend,” Scary Eyes agreed.
Ariana’s eyes narrowed at the offhanded insult. She’d show them a violent little fiend. Stepping back into her captor’s insole, she thrust both elbows into his body. Ooops! That might have been his crotch. Simultaneously, she picked up her feet, dropping all her weight against his grip. She knew she’d surprised more than injured him so she hit the ground running this time.
She still wasn’t fast enough to escape the third alien. This one had been watching the confrontation and had learned a thing or two. He grabbed her by the front of the throat, tightening his grip just beneath her jaw bone. Turning her bodily, he lifted her up and pinned her back against his chest, arms tight against her sides, effectively ending her struggles.
Three more aliens joined the party and Arianna couldn’t understand what they said to one another in their snapping and growling language.
She felt a cold pressure over her carotid artery. Then the lights went out.
Chapter Four
Darvan rubbed his hands across his tired eyes in an effort to clear his head and focus on the report in front of him. The High Council of the CORANOS Galactic Alliance, CGA for short, was burying him in requests to speed up his timeline. First, they wanted him to hang back and sit on his thumbs. Now, he needed to make haste.
Earth’s bountiful and, for the most part, ignored natural resources were too big a lure for the Council to resist. The sooner they had the ore that seemed to litter the planet, indeed the whole solar system, the faster they could produce their molecular technology and sell it to waiting buyers throughout the universe.
CORANOS politicians, were never happy when the bottom line was threatened. Naturally, they believed the way to control the situation was to demand Darvan’s holographic presence for the innumerable interminable meetings they held. Meetings that took place, of course, during the light hours of his home world Cor I, several billion light years away. As a result, he hadn’t had a full sleep cycle in longer than he could remember.
Further complicating his mission, the Council had insisted on the unprecedented assignment of non-military personnel to this campaign. Darvan’s armada carried an alarming number of untrained Doranos liaisons, like his own smarmy Attaché Jorkan, as well as two science vessels staffed by Corian scientists. While the scientists were combat trained, they were mostly untested.
His invasion force had gotten twitchy from lack of action and the self-important civilians hadn’t helped matters. The warriors had been restless as the months wore on with no orders forthcoming to subdue Earth and its warring inhabitants. He’d increased the length of their mandatory workouts in an effort to curb some of their natural aggression. When the Council had finally given the go-ahead, he’d sent select groups from each ship to the surface to contain the Earthers and set up the work camps. Deploying the most aggressive of his warriors to the Containment and Track Teams had eased the atmosphere on the ships. Some. The Doranos civilians were still the cause of more than one of his headaches.
Carrying out the High Council’s orders was his sworn duty but, damn, was he tired of it. Technically, this tour as Galaxy General could be his last. He had enough status as a retiring Galaxy General and a figurehead to his people to go home to Cor I and let mothers parade their daughters past, hoping to catch his eye. Maybe he was ready for home and family. He still felt ready to perform his duties, but his mother insisted he wasn’t getting any younger.
Darvan’s guest chime sounded, shaking him from his brooding.
“Enter,” he commanded in clipped accents.
“Vank, thank you for coming,” Darvan stood from behind his desk and returned his brother’s salute. “Please sit,” he indicated a plush chair.
“Thank you, General.”
“The High Council believes the Ventix have mobilized their forces and are sending them into this star system with the intent to forcibly contest the CORANOS right to this galaxy. They’ve discovered our plans for Earth and are stating a prior interest. The Council wants the galaxy regardless,” Darvan let that sink in for a moment.
“They really don’t stand a chance against our technology and superiorly trained forces,” Vank’s forehead creased. “They have the Tixerians,” he referred to the servile race of strangely insect-like bi-peds, “but the bugs aren’t suicidal. What does the Ventix Emperor know that we don’t?”
“The High Council is seeking proof of their alleged prior interest in Earth among the other planetary alliances. Perhaps they’ll turn up something we’ve missed in our intelligence reports,” Darvan suggested. “I’m ending your duties as Commander of Track Team One and asking you to return to command of the Horizon. Make certain your fliers are all on-duty and get them out practicing attack and evade maneuvers.”
“Yes, sir,” Vank stood to leave, looking as if he’d like to say more. “Might I have a personal word, sir?”
“Go ahead,” Darvan’s mind had already jumped to his next task.
“Some of the warriors have accessed the archives and found that we have a right to petition for legal claim to the female Earthers,” Vank’s tone was neutral.
Darvan’s attention boomeranged back to Vank. “You do have the Right to Seek Claim.”
“They’re angry that they weren’t aware of this option,” Vank began to pace, clearly uncomfortable confronting him. “Corian warriors are too aggressive to leave on-planet. We don’t have a happy home to look forward to like you do,” Darvan glimpsed the cold despair in Vank’s eyes before he masked it and continued, “but you can change that for some of us.”
Darvan felt for his warriors. The Doranos Galaxy’s female-to-male birth rate was one-to-two, while the Corian Galaxy’s was one-to-five. The two races were compatible but rarely mixed. Corian females bonded to one male and that male was lucky to have her and the chance to have children. Doranos females were free to be with whomever they chose and often flitted between males of means; therefore, Doranos males measured success by the number of females in their care. In either galaxy, males of low birth and younger sons didn’t often have a chance to attract a female.
“I take your point,” Darvan conceded, causing Vank to halt his pacing and shoot him a cautiously optimistic look. “As the highest ranking un-bonded male, precedent states that I’d have to take part in the claiming,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face while he considered his next words. “I don’t want to do that. Doranos females might not mind sharing a male, but I’m not interested in a Doranos or an Earther. No Corian female would bond herself to me kn
owing she wouldn’t be the only female in my care.”
“The subject of the last hunt was a female, Dar,” Vank stated flatly. “She’s beautiful. A little malnourished right now, but stunning. She’s so different from our women with her soft, pale skin all of one color. Her eyes are green. I’ve never seen anything like her and, still...”
Darvan could see his brother was about to say something that he didn’t relish.
“So?”
“You should take her as captive.” Vank made the outrageous statement with a straight face.
Darvan shook his head to clear it. “A general hasn’t claimed a captive in generations. If the Earthers are granted admission to our Alliance, I’m suddenly in possession of an un-bonded female – not a captive.”
Vank paused as if considering, “You only have to keep her as captive for as long as there are female Earthers to claim. You know that the wealthier Doranos will pillage the planet looking for females as soon as one of their politicians can wrangle the governorship. Why should we ignore our rights while the Doranos reap the rewards of our sacrifice?”
“There is a precedent for you to claim her as the spoils of war. She was the most stubborn Earther on the whole planet. You brought her in. There’s your trophy.”
“Alright,” Vank agreed. “I’ll claim her as my captive. I’ll gift her to you. If you think the High Council is going to vote to bring Earth into the Alliance, return her to me. You’ll be free to pursue a Corian bond-mate.”
“Why would you give up this chance to have a female? Think, Vank,” he practically shouted. “This is your opportunity. The High Council will fight any decision benefiting warriors. Take her as your due, I doubt they’ll interfere.”
“It pains me to turn her over to you. Greatly. But what would I tell the others? I wouldn’t be here, having this conversation, if they weren’t angry.”
For Darvan, facing an outraged Council was better than dealing with droves of rioting warriors. The Corian Councilors wouldn’t be thrilled that he didn’t partake in the claiming, but they would know two females could not live in one home. As for the Doranos Councilors, they and the males they sent as liaisons, were just the males who would be scooping up the Earther females to add to their harems if given a chance. They would not be happy.
“Fine, Vank, have Jorkan bring the captive here first thing tomorrow. I’ll find a fair system for granting or denying petitions for captives. I will expect these warriors to deserve and protect these Earth females.
“Yes, Sir,” Vank made his exit with undignified haste.
Darvan was sorely tempted to contact his Uncle, Councilor Darkan, in spite of the time difference but he refrained. He needed to hold his own council on this matter of the warriors and their Right to Seek Claim. Appearing uncertain of his decision would weaken his position substantially.
What was he supposed to do with a captive Earther, anyway?
Chapter Five
“Female, I know you are awake.”
Arianna sat up quickly and glared around the harshly lit room. Her head hurt like a sonofabitch and the light was not helping.
“Oh my God. What are you?”
She jumped from the medical table to the cold floor so that the table was between her and the pale alien with long, white-blond hair.
“And where are my clothes?”
She looked wildly around for something to use as a weapon against the odd, pasty being. It didn’t look anything like the aliens who had captured her. Instead of the hard black tactical gear, this alien was garbed in soft looking black pants and a loose black tunic. His feet were encased in black slippers with thick soles. In spite of the harsh contrast of the black clothing against his nearly translucent skin, he was beautiful in an ethereal way.
“My name is Jorkan,” Pasty Face replied blandly.
Light pink eyes zeroing in on the tight points of her breasts, he continued, “You have no further need of the garments you were wearing.”
A look of what might have been disdain crossed his aristocratic face.
“The filthy rags have been incinerated. I’ve procured more appropriate clothing.”
He held a tightly wrapped bundle at arms-length in front of his body. When he made no further move into the room, Arianna concluded that she would have to parade her naked self across the room to collect the clothing.
“Appropriate for what?” She skirted the table trying valiantly to ignore her nudity.
Snatching the clothing from his hands, she retreated back behind the exam table. She’d been very afraid he was going to grab her and manhandle her like the other aliens had.
His creepy pink eyes followed her every move with almost clinical detachment.
“Your status is captive to the Galaxy General Darvan,” his expression took on the slightest cast of cruel satisfaction.
If he was looking for a reaction, she was going to have to disappoint him. She wouldn’t let him see how frightening this all was for her. Feigning indifference she asked, “What does that entail?”
She jerked the soft black garment down over her hips and the tops of her thighs, noting that his sharp eyes followed her every movement. The long-sleeved black tunic clung tightly to the curve of her breasts but did nothing to dim the outline of her nipples hardened by the chill of the room.
“Did you forget the pants?” She indicated her mostly bare legs and feet.
“A captive is what you would term a slave. You will have no need of more clothing. Come, you must be presented,” he gestured one chalky finger towards the floor next to him as though commanding a dog.
She repressed a shudder of apprehension, doubting his intentions were good since he’d dressed her like a street walker. Warily moving to Pasty’s side she asked, “Presented to whom?”
“First, you will walk behind and to my left at all times. When I reach my hand toward you, you are always to lay your closest arm in my hand with the palm relaxed and facing up. Do you understand?”
She wasn’t making any promises, implied or otherwise, so she ignored the question.
Grasping her arm in his large hand, he pulled her from the room. He quick stepped her down the stark white hallway. Arianna caught the fleeting impression of several closed doors recessed into the wall but didn’t see another living soul. Surely if there were other humans here, she’d see some evidence.
“Where are we?”
“You will only speak when spoken to,” Jorkan intoned implacably.
Such a sociable fellow.
“We are on the CORANOS battleship, Victory, I believe you would call it in your English.”
Battleship? As in, in space? This was not an ideal development.
He stopped in front of a tall door and pressed his palm to the scanner. The door slid open and he pulled Arianna inside the narrow cube. When he gave a command in a language she didn’t understand, the doors slid soundlessly closed. A few moments later, a discreet chime sounded and the doors slid open to reveal another endless hallway.
This corridor was crawling with the oddly colored aliens Arianna had come to associate with the CORANOS invaders. They looked to her like the love children of G.I. Joe and the Hulk. Instead of green skin, the dermis peeking out of their black uniforms ranged from dark to light tans, brown and blacks with splotches and stripes in random patterns. She couldn’t be sure if it was actually the alien’s skin or another of their awesome technological advantages.
“Eyes down,” Jorkan snapped the reproval.
In her experience, it was always better to be underestimated than credited with too much motivation and intellect. If she ever hoped to escape, Arianna knew she would need the element of surprise so she ground her teeth at the insulting treatment and stared at the spongy beige floor. She’d keep her snarky thoughts to herself and present this hateful alien with an obedient facade. For now.
Jorkan continued to drag her forcefully behind him through the walkways. He turned left and right at seemingly random intersections before sto
pping at a door. When he passed his palm in front of a small box, a door slid open into a sort of receiving room. He spoke in the odd language again.
Pasty Face Jorkan was no slouch in the physical department. He towered over Arianna and had to be close to six-and-a-half feet tall. Even his muscular form looked small and slender next to this stone-faced behemoth he presented her to.
It took all she had to hold on to her calm, compliant front. This camouflaged alien gave off a powerful, dangerous vibe. She got the feeling that his copper eyes didn’t miss a single detail.
“Jorkan, what is the captive’s name?” the giant looked down from his immense height, expression enigmatic.
“I haven’t asked. Well, Earther?” he gave her arm a warning squeeze.
“What does it matter?” She was reluctant to give personal details to these predators.
“It doesn’t. Whoever you were before today, whatever rights or status you had on Earth, is all past. To be known by your name rather than a generic title such as ‘captive’ is a rare honor.”
“My name is Arianna,” she kept her eyes trained carefully on the floor. She didn’t feel honored. She felt trapped.
“My men greatly enjoyed tracking you. Because you were such worthy prey, they’ve given you to me as a captive,” his unblinking, intense stare was unnerving.
“Yippie,” she mumbled under her breath. Suppressing her urge to run from these predators was obviously making her suicidal.
She barely caught herself in time to smooth the glare off her face but couldn’t prevent the instinctive move to look her enemy in the eye.
∞ ∞ ∞
Darvan leant down to examine Arianna. He extended his hand palm up, gratified when she proffered her delicate wrist.