89. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
T arrex
I’m glad I kept Savannah occupied last night during Khour’s exhibition. Watching it would have crushed her soul. Although I managed to keep her mind off what was going on in the cell, I was not so lucky. I had to pay enough attention so I could bring us both back to the room if necessary.
I’ve seen and experienced many things no one should be forced to endure. Because of my empathic nature, it’s a wonder I lived through my enslavement at all. What happened last night? That was one of the worst. At least I buffered it for Savannah.
Savannah and I slept as late as we could. There’s nothing to do in the cellblock and time passes more quickly if we sleep the day away. The K’tar is mentally nudging me from my left. I press calming and affectionate thoughts his way.
Two insectoid Frains, Drix and Brixxa, enter the cellblock, shocksticks and cleaning supplies in hand. They’re followed by two Xelkets armed with laser weapons.
When we returned from our trip to Khour’s cabin last night, the powerful animal smell was gone. That must have been done while we were enduring Khour’s entertainment. Evidently, Khour wants to keep the expensive animal out of its own excrement, because it looks like we’re in for another round of cleaning.
No one was caged for failure to clean his cage earlier, so she must have come up with a more creative and diabolical way to punish the slacker. It’s no surprise the cleaning crew is back already.
Brixxa strides to the animal’s cage and lunges his shockstick through the bars, but the animal is already hunched in the back corner. He must have gotten a taste of the implement last night.
The two Frains argue with increasing intensity about who will enter the cage first, but after some type of hand-wagering, it looks as if Drix is the loser.
Brixxa pulls out a gun that is retrofitted with something. It couldn’t be a laser weapon. It would be stupid to kill the animal just to clean its cage. This must be a longer-range stunner.
I get an up-close image of the animal’s teeth when it hisses, then growls as it leaves its corner and lunges toward the males on the other side of the bars.
Brixxa doesn’t hesitate to shoot. A bolt hits the K’tar’s scales, which sends a chain reaction to every scale. The shock makes a full circuit, and the animal drops to the floor. The two Frains enter. One nudges the animal to make certain it’s truly unconscious, and they begin scooping, vacuuming, and washing the effluvia with machines seemingly made for this purpose.
I allow my mind to probe the animal and notice the moment it begins to rouse, which is about the time the two seem to be preparing to leave the cage. The K’tar is fully awake and squints out of one eye, calculating a leap at the Frain who leaves last. He gracefully rises and jumps at Brixxa only a moment too late. The door slams in the beast’s face before he can take a bite out of the Frain’s ass.
The K’tar snaps once toward the bars, then pads to the far corner, probably knowing if he keeps up his behavior he’ll get another jolt from the stunner.
The animal might be our ticket out, I say jubilantly to Savannah, who couldn’t possibly have slept through that.
I show her my plan and feel her rising excitement as I give her visuals of every aspect of it.
You’ll have to get him on board , she says.
I don’t think his buy-in is going to be the problem. Getting him to understand may be difficult.
I press at his mind and await his permission to slide into his thoughts. It’s a whirlwind of anger and pain. Having been the recipient of enough jolts of the shockstick to last a lifetime, I’m not surprised to feel the aftereffects of the electrical sting. I stay at the edges of his consciousness sending compassion and support until the worst has passed. I feel his gratitude in return.
Can I join you? Savannah asks hesitantly when I edge into the animal’s mind again.
He hits us with a wave of pain and anger, but allows us in. Before I can present my plan, Savannah asks, Do you have a name?
Leave it to a female to think of the softer side of things. I wanted to rush into the solution. She considers the emotions.
He answers in the negative, and I assume we can now hurry to the finish line. I’m prepared to begin my proposal when Savannah asks, Would you like one?
I don’t know how he understands her words, but it’s obvious he can. She must be able to communicate at a whole different level with him. I’m overwhelmed with another burst of love and admiration for my female.
I would have to be unconscious not to feel a burst of his wholehearted approval.
I’m Savannah. This is Tarrex. Is there a name you would like?
Since the animal doesn’t speak in words, I’m not sure what Savannah is expecting. How could he offer a name?
He begins to throw us ideas, though. First, he flashes a picture of his genitals. I can’t stifle a chuckle. Of course. Aren’t we all, at some level, identified by our sex? I don’t know about other cultures, but on Coronis the child’s sex is the first thing that is announced after the baby leaves its mother’s womb.
Boy? Or Male? Savannah narrates. Any other way you’d like to identify?
Yet again, I realize why I love this female. I don’t feel a hint of censure radiating off of her. She just accepted that the K’tar might want to identify as Boy.
The animal’s thoughts fly too fast for me to follow. They’re like a strong, circular wind until they settle down and he flashes us an emotion that comes with flickering images.
He must be on his home planet, walking through dense foliage under a thick overhead canopy. I feel his noble strut, his sense of ownership of all he surveys, his lack of fear as he pads along a path unafraid of any other predator.
Lovely! Savannah says, and I feel her excitement. Our words are pride. She shows him a picture of herself when she was getting medals pinned onto her chest. Or proud.
The K’tar ’s interest is piqued, but he’s not enthused.
On my planet, there’s an animal that reminds me of you . We get a flash of his feelings that’s almost like a hard breeze of… offense. As if she wounded him by comparing him to anything else.
She immediately identifies his feelings and hurries to soothe them.
Of course, you’re bigger, stronger, smarter, and far more beautiful.
I can feel him puff back up. Pride indeed.
But we call the animal the king of the jungle, meaning the monarch of his lands, the ruler of all he surveys. Do you understand king? She flashes us both a picture of a male wearing a crown. Powerful. The name King would suit you. She pauses when he doesn’t immediately buy in. But we can think of others.
He blasts us with a gust of approval and shows us a picture of him with a crown on his head at a jaunty angle. I wonder what our captors must think as they see both Savannah and I laugh at the same time.
“King,” she says out loud as if to ratify it, set it in stone.
I feel his happiness as his body gently vibrates and his tail slowly sweeps side to side.
“You’re purring,” she says. “It’s a lovely sound.”
His attachment and devotion to my female are obvious. It’s at this moment I know with certainty she’s stolen both our hearts. I know with equal surety he would die for my human female who has a heart as large as the Melonquin mountain range on Coronis.
“King,” I repeat, because it fills the poor animal with so much happiness.
He pads to the bars that separate our two cells, sits on the floor, and shimmies as close as he can. I know he wants to feel my touch when he sticks his front paws through the bars of the empty cell between us. I can’t reach him, nor do I want to alert our observers of our connection. It’s as good a time as any to explain our predicament. And our plan.
I turn my back on him, stretch out on my cot, and close my eyes. But not before I see Savannah go to her cot and sit on it with her back to the bars so she can continue to watch me and King while keeping her back to the empty cell behind her and the males who have all been watching us intently.
He’s smart, this bladed feline. I see from Savannah’s thoughts that he, too, moves to the far side of his cage and closes his eyes, feigning sleep. The three of us stay connected. As fast as I can throw him pictures, he picks them up.
There are many moving parts, I conclude . Nothing is set in stone. You’ll have to be ready to help at a moment’s notice.
He gives me his approval. Then he nudges my consciousness aside and seeks Savannah out.
He sends her a questioning emotion as he shows her a picture of the three of us walking out of the cellblock together.
She laughs. King, how could we leave without you?
I feel the warm blast of his contentment and commitment.
Savannah
K’tar or no K’tar, I think to myself that evening as we’re escorted through the ship to Khour’s cabin, we don’t have a plan, we have a handful of wishes. There are many moving parts to this scheme of ours, each predicated on something that may or may not happen. If one thing doesn’t goes wrong, we’ll have nothing. Except, perhaps, signed death warrants.
I had a Gunny Sergeant in the Marines who used to say “a handful of crap in one hand and a handful of wishes in the other. The only thing you really have is crap.” Truer words were never spoken.
And even if our wishful plan can succeed, we have to get through whatever that heinous bitch has in store for us tonight. And the next night and the next until we’re either dead or we can escape.
The two Frains arrive at Khour’s door, and just as they did last night, they perform what looks to be a Frain version of rock, paper, scissors. Brixxa must have Drix’s number, because Drix is the loser this time, too.
Khour’s voice orders, “Come,” and the two force us into the room. There’s no food tonight. All appearances of civility are a distant memory.
“You’re late,” she snarls and hits Drix with a shockstick that makes him jump with a yelp. No wonder they cringe when they have to knock on her door. She points them to the spot in front of Theos and Doctoré’s cage where we were seated last night.
“Brixxa, keep your laser trained on our entertainment. Drix, move number one and number two’s cage as close to the wall as you can.”
The cage is an interesting feat of engineering. Its eight-foot length is constant, but the width is designed to vary according to Khour’s whims. Last night, I assumed it was fully extended as it intruded twelve feet into the room. Its normal resting dimensions are eight feet wide as it is now and was last night when we arrived. Now, though, Drix smashes the cage closer to the wall until it collapses to no more than shoulder-width for the two males.
While last night my fantasies simply revolved around choking her, tonight my subconscious is providing me with dozens of creative ideas on how to end the bitch. From lasers to cannons to a good old Marine favorite, the M2 Browning Machine Gun. Runners up are some jiu-jitsu moves, up-close knife work, and shoving her out the trash chute to die in the silent vacuum of space. Winner of the most creative idea goes to the trebuchet. It was a medieval version of a stationary slingshot big enough to hurl boulders. I didn’t even know I’d remembered that word until it popped into my mind.
None of those things are going to happen, though, because Tarrex and I are being held at gunpoint right now.
“I got the distinct impression you were less than enthused with last night’s entertainment,” she says to me, her yellow eyes sparkling with what on a normal person would indicate good humor.
I feel Tarrex’s thought signature hug me in a warm embrace. He’s a good male, and he’s trying to calm me. I’d need a whole lot of Xanax and an AK 47 to be calm right now, though. Something bad is coming, and when it’s coming from Commander Rygel Khour, you can bet your bottom dollar it’s going to be real bad.
“Drix, cover the cage. I want privacy for the newcomers. Well, as much privacy as the five of us can have.”
Drix grabs a neatly folded black tarp and covers the cage. My mind focuses on how hot and muggy and hard to breathe it will be in that cage, because the alternative—thinking about what’s barreling toward me at the speed of light—is far too terrifying to contemplate.
I wish we could do something, I tell him, even as I know there is nothing we can do.
I could try to rush them. I’m a gladiator.
She’s not going to kill you. She’d just take joy out of fucking you up, making you hurt, and going forward with whatever her nefarious plan is. You know a collared, unarmed gladiator and Marine against three cartel people armed with laser weapons is a recipe for disaster. We have a plan. We just have to bide our time.
Whatever’s coming, we can get through this, Savannah. We’re strong people. We love each other. We’re going to get off this ship and we can have the rest of our lives together. I’m here for you.
No matter what she forces us to do, I love you, Tarrex.
“Ah,” she takes a deep breath and flashes us a sunny smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day. There are so many choices, but I’ve narrowed it down to one.”
I stand straighter and notice the muscles in my stomach tighten as if I’m preparing for a fist to the gut. She does not disappoint.
“Because I plan on keeping all four of you here for a good, long time, I’m going to make this ever so easy for you. Normally I like to dictate how things should be done. People have called me controlling in the past. Can you believe it? Although none of them have lived to tell the tale.
“Being the saintly person that I am, I’m going to let you control the action tonight. In later iterations, that won’t be the case, so I’ll warn you that if I don’t receive a thank you at the end of your little session, I’ll be less inclined to show mercy in the future.
“You two will couple on that bed. You may perform whatever acts you wish, but they will culminate in intercourse and orgasm for both of you. Anything else will leave me… unfulfilled and I will take out my displeasure on the two males in the cage.”
She claps her hands in an almost childlike manner. “Trust me, the level of difficulty will get so much harder before it’s all over. And so will the level of punishment.”
She motions for us to move toward the bed as she pulls a chair about four feet from the foot and assumes a posture similar to mine when I’m cueing up one of my favorite movies.
Degree of difficulty is one, Tarrex assures me . Theos and Doctoré aren’t watching, and you and I are going to do fine. I’m with you, my love. We’ll stay in each others’ heads the whole time. We’ll do this together, right?
He’s such a good male and his voice is so calm and confident I believe him for a moment, then I freak because… this is awful.
I’m a Marine. Trained for battle. Trained to put my fear in the back of my mind to focus on the mission. But this is so far beyond my training.
I can feel your fear, my love. Hold onto me and we’ll get through this.
He grabs my hand in that chivalrous way men used to do in knights-of-old movies, as if he’s about to kiss it. His gaze locks onto mine and he smiles at me as long as he dares before Khour gets antsy and changes the rules.
Theos and Doctoré are angry and sad you’re being forced to do this and are sending us support. I’ve got you , he says. Believe me?
Yes. Actually, I do.
His gaze never leaves mine as he peels off my clothes. You’re beautiful, Savannah. It’s just you and me in this room. Look at me. See the love shining out of my eyes?
I quit fighting it, quit focusing on anything other than handsome Tarrex standing in front of me. I’ve known he was the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen since the moment he removed his helmet. Then I was too busy rising to the heights of pleasure with him to take a mental inventory. Now would be a good time for that.
I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. As I focus on my male, I can feel a wave of his love wash over me, calming me.
His skin is the most amazing, otherworldly color I’ve ever seen. It’s a combination of the most beautiful opal and the moving lights of the aurora borealis. The pink and purple shimmers with white that look like stars in a nebula. After we’d made love in my cabin, before I dozed off from the sheer physicality of our lovemaking, I used to graze my palm over his skin. The lights moved under my fingers. I never tired of watching and stroking him.
His thick blond hair frames his face. His perfectly straight nose is bracketed by high cheekbones and accentuated by his strong square hairless jaw, blue eyes, and dark blond brows. An angel in the flesh.
Just you and me, Tarrex. Was I too in awe of you before to tell you how beautiful you are? I’ve never seen a male as handsome as you.
Funny, I feel the same way about you.
I hold onto his sky-blue gaze and remove his clothes. The day I met him, although he was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, his eyes held a heart-wrenching amount of suffering. During the time we shared on the Fool , I helped him erase so much of his anguish, but it has returned. It pains me to see the sadness there.
I’ve mentally erected a black screen between us and the audience. I don’t see them, won’t be able to hear them until Tarrex tells me they’re speaking. It’s just the two of us. Each time we escape into our private paradise, it gets easier.
We’re naked now. My body is cooperating. My nipples bead as I watch his perfect body respond to mine. He grabs my hand in that knightly pose again, escorts me closer to the bed, then lifts me onto it.
He kisses me and then dives deeper into my thoughts. He takes me to that lovely park again. We kiss, lip on lip, not even any tongue, as he makes me notice the colors of the trees, the bottle-green sky with yellowish clouds, the sounds of birds fluttering in the canopy above. He makes the experience so rich and inviting I’m pulled deeper into the experience.
I’m no longer on the Diabolus . I’m on Coronis with the most romantic suitor in the galaxy.
I let him make love to me. We spent three days on the Fool’s Errand making love all day, every day. He knows how to coax my body to the peaks of pleasure. He looms over me, his body at least partially shielding me from prying eyes, as he enters me and brings us both to completion.
You were masterful, I tell him when we’re done. Loving and sweet with no dawdling, but enough foreplay to get the job done. Tarrex, if I didn’t love you before, I certainly would love you now. You made an unbearable situation bearable. You have my undying gratitude.
It’s only when I sense his tension that I remember we’re dealing with Rygel Khour. The female has no honor. Now that we’ve done her bidding, it would be totally in character for her to move the finish line and force us to perform or watch other heinous acts.
We scoot off the bed and get dressed, acting as if she’s a female of her word. When I find the courage to look over at her, her nostrils are flaring and her chest is heaving. To sum up her emotion in one word? Pissed.
“You two surprised me,” she says, unable to hide her pout. “I am many things. I’ve heard the backchannel gossip on the dark web, most of it… unflattering. One thing they do not say about me? That I’m a cheat. I’m true to my word. Otherwise, it would be hard to do business.
“Although I feel cheated, I will do as I promised. You’ve completed your task.” She pauses for effect, then adds, “For tonight. Tomorrow? I want you both to pay. And you will.”
She makes a dismissive gesture with her raised hand flicking toward the doorway, and the two Frains hurry us out the door and down the hallways to our cells.
This time, as we bustle through the halls, my mind throws me other creative means to end Khour’s life: an old-fashioned mace, impalement onto a spiky fence after being pushed from a second-story window, and a blow from a sharp longsword that neatly separates her head from her body.
You did it, Love , Tarrex’s warm emotion slides into my mind, quieting the torrent of emotions. You okay?
Yes, thanks to you. What I don’t say, don’t even allow myself to think, is what we both already know—it won’t be this easy tomorrow.