90. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
T arrex
As we hurry through the hallways, fearful of being punished by the four guards surrounding us, I probe Savannah’s mind. She may have said she was thankful I made that experience tolerable for her, but it took its toll on both of us.
I had to utilize every bit of training from my empath boarding school to pull that off. Luckily, we’ve had sex dozens of times on the Fool’s Errand . My body naturally responds to hers. I tried not to let Savannah feel I was touching her by rote, but only a small portion of my mind was focused on her. The rest of my attention was orchestrating everyone in the room.
I was keeping five other minds at bay. Now that Savannah has shown she has some empathic ability herself, I didn’t want her to feel the intrusion of the others in the room, especially Khour and Theos.
Although her former lover was hidden behind a tarp, he was furious at his captor and concerned about what was going on in Khour’s bed. I didn’t want any of that seeping into Savannah’s thoughts. I sent him a quick message that I love her and promised to do my best to make the situation bearable. His equally quick response of gratitude and support helped fortify me.
Khour’s mind is a cesspool of evil. Barta, my old trainer, was a saint compared to what I found swimming in Khour’s mind. Most of my attention was focused on trying to control her thoughts. How many times did she almost interrupt our lovemaking to order us to do something more intrusive, more painful on that bed?
At first, it was just things with our mouths that I dissuaded her from commanding us to perform. That task was easy because it wasn’t what she really wanted. It was the acts of abuse she desired that I had to fight her for. And I had to do it without her knowing I’d slipped into her mind. Before I met Savannah, I couldn’t have accomplished half of what I just did. My powers and my control continue to surprise me. They’ve been heightened by my lover.
All of that was accomplished while completing the act with Savannah and shielding her from it. I’m exhausted.
When we’re pushed into the cellblock and locked into our cells, I settle onto my bed and stare at the ceiling. I never gave a thought to my own emotions, but now they bombard me. That experience was filthy.
King nudges me inquisitively. The animal is smart and a bit of an empath himself. I flash him a picture of his “bad man” box and a picture of Khour. His thoughts immediately retreat along with a wave of concern as his long, low growl signals his agreement.
Savannah lifts her mattress and drags it on the floor, setting it near my cell so we can be near each other.
She just forced us to have sex, I don’t think it will make any difference if we lie side by side at this stage of the game, she says. I can read you, Tarrex. That took its toll on you.
Aye.
I’m on the bed, she’s on her mattress on the floor, but I lean over and reach through the bars to slide my fingers through her hair. This soothes her, and truth be told, it soothes me, too.
Tomorrow’s going to be worse, right?
Aye.
Prepare me.
No, my love. Nothing could prepare a decent person for what that female wants to do. Thinking about it won’t make it better. We need to get out of here.
A wave of her fear-tinged sadness drifts to me. We’re both feeling less optimistic about our chances.
The door to the cellblock bursts open and one of the Xelkets slams his shockstick against the wall, making sparks fly as the startling noise of raw electricity wakes anyone who might have been sleeping.
He walks straight to Savannah’s cell and slaps the shockstick against the bars of her cell three times in rapid succession. The noise of clanging metal and loose electricity do their job. It’s hair-raising. Both of us sit up, our muscles tight with fear.
“What the drack are you two doing? Destroying property?” Another slap of the weapon against the bars.
Three more guards enter the area and congregate in front of Savannah’s cell. They train their laser weapons on the female I love while the purple Xelket opens the door and points to the back corner.
“Move there!”
Savannah complies.
He lifts her mattress, removes it, and locks the door.
“If you don’t treat your possessions with care, they will be removed. You will sleep on your hard bunk tonight. You two are prohibited from touching.”
Savannah tries to protest.
“NO talking!” He knocks the stick against the bars again.
The guards all leave, carrying the small mattress with them. The cellblock is silent after the heavy metal door slams shut.
So, we can be forced to fuck but we’re not allowed to hold hands . She’s trembling with shock and anger.
We’re puppets. She’s watching, my love. I don’t communicate what I’m thinking, which is that Khour thrives knowing her stunt affected Savannah so deeply.
Savannah gets it, though. She washes her face and hands, then sits on her hard metal bed frame while finger-combing her hair. Finally, she lies down and covers herself with her blanket as if she was on the finest bed in the fanciest hotel in the galaxy.
That’s my female , I say with pride.
I slept on the rocky ground in a desert for weeks without benefit of a sleeping bag. That’s a story for another day, but I’m not a hothouse flower. I’m a Marine.
Savannah
Growing up middle class on the outskirts of Atlanta, I had a good childhood. I entered the military mostly because I wanted to. It didn’t hurt that until this generation, it was expected of all the men in the family. By the time I came around, it was expected of me, too. I was proud and excited when I enlisted in the Marines.
My life, even under wartime stress, had been pretty good to me. Yeah, I had petty squabbles with friends and my brothers, but I never experienced hate until those Urluts abducted me from my bed, forced me to mate Theos, and were about to sell me as a sex slave.
Hate like I’m experiencing now? I never knew it existed. It’s coursing through me in waves. My heart is pounding, my fists are clenched, and my molars are grinding. For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing bloodlust.
I’ve wanted to kill America’s enemies before, but never wanted to make them suffer. Commander Rygel Khour? I want to kill her in the most personal, painful manner possible. Whatever she has in store for us? I will live through it so that I can fucking kill her someday. I vow it.
The only way I got to sleep last night was by nurturing my fantasies of the million ways I want to hurt Rygel Khour. I must have finally succeeded, because it’s morning.
Sounds in the cellblock wake me. Males coughing, pissing, doing pushups to stay strong. There’s no laughter, though. I imagine that would earn us all another visit from the shockstick brigade.
Tarrex blows me a gust of compassion, trying to share his strength with me. He circles the perimeter of his cage, sensing my agitation. I feel a mental caress from King like I did for him the first time I touched his mind. I send him my heartfelt gratitude.
Get your shit together, Jackson , I tell myself in my drill Sergeant’s voice. You are not allowed to be weak. You cannot be demoralized. You cannot let the enemy get to you, especially after only two fucking days. You will pull yourself together and you will fight, soldier.
After nodding my head in agreement with myself, I brush my teeth with my finger, then begin my own calisthenics routine. I’m determined to stay strong. King settles down and watches me with his head resting on his huge, clawed paws.
I do pushups, crunches, lunges, and burpees, then I run in place and cycle through the list again. Tarrex watched me perform the first routine, then joins me for the second. He’s stronger and faster than me. Duh, he trained eight hours a day his whole adult life. His mastery of the routine spurs me on. This incites him, and we compete with each other.
King adds his routine to the competition. He runs circles around his cage as fast as he can. He jumps, twisting in the air, and reverses direction. Then he leaps as high as he can against the bars, actually hitting the metal top of his cage to flip in midair and land on his feet.
He is all feline grace and strength as he performs for us with the precision of an Olympic gymnast. We stop to watch in awe of his power. His pride and pleasure of our appreciation come at us like waves on a beach.
I’m not going to let Khour win, I tell Tarrex as we resume our workout and I clap between pushups.
Nor I , my love. He says as he double claps. Show off , I chide with a smile of appreciation. I think my males are competing for my attention.
King lets out a mighty roar just as Tarrex does the same . My pleased laughter is drowned out by the shouts and ugly threats for us to shut up from the males in the other cells. No guards barge in to do the shockstick routine, so I guess getting everyone riled up is acceptable entertainment for the guards watching on video.
When we’re not exercising, I ask him about his life.
He tells me more about his empath training center. He calls it the Guild House. The staff nurtured his gifts and taught him techniques and strategies. Finding Maleen changed his life and gave him freedom. Prior to finding his null, he was hidden in his house, and when he left it, the emotional bombardment was excruciating.
As he got older in the Guild House, he and his null discovered the nearby park, went on hikes, and he could tolerate attending concerts and sporting events.
Empaths were treated differently than other people. He describes it as equal parts reverence and fear. I get it. People don’t like to know you can read their minds.
I tell him about my huge extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins galore. About going to church and the fact that the love of football was almost as important as a love of God in my family.
I try not to let my sadness bleed over to him when he talks about how he was separated from his sisters since his birth until he left home to go to the Guild School. I understand. Kids’ minds are chaotic at best, mean at worst. It would be hard for a little empath’s mind to be buffeted around by all of that. But being removed from your siblings had to be hard on everyone.
I love getting to know him and letting him have a window into my life, but it’s also obvious we’re trying to keep our minds from tonight’s “festivities.” Khour took it easy on us last night. It won’t be so painless tonight. That Tarrex won’t even tell me what he read in her mind? It’s terrifying.
To get my mind off my fears, I wonder why King is in the cellblock as opposed to the hold where he was almost ordered to kill Theos and Doctoré. Maybe because it’s easier to clean here, or maybe to keep the other prisoners in line.
The cleanup crew barges through the cellblock doors. I wasn’t sure they were going to clean every day, but here they are, tools in hand, heading for King’s cell.
Showtime! I say as I sit up straighter.
May the Gods be with us. There is a look of purpose on Tarrex’s handsome face I’ve never seen before. This male means business.
We both turn our attention to King . He indicates more than readiness, he’s eager.
As before, two armed purple Xelkets barely enter the cellblock first. Then Drix and Brixxa take point, and as usual, Drix loses the rock, paper, scissors game, and is the one to enter the cage while Brixxa holds the stunner.
King, right on cue, makes a menacing move accompanied by the K’tar equivalent of a roar—a rumbling, scratchy explosion of sound. Brixxa wastes no time shooting him with the stunner and the animal loses muscle tone and falls to the floor, his metallic scales clattering as he hits with a thump.
Tarrex and I watch in silence. He backs toward my side of the cage and I edge toward him. Even though we knew it was coming, we both share anger and sorrow that King had to suffer through that again.
The two Frains argue irritably as they seem to do whenever Khour isn’t in sight. The two Xelket guards have their weapons trained on the humanoids in the cells. This includes Tarrex and me.
While both Tarrex and I are looking toward the action in the K’tar’s cell, our hands meet through the bars. It feels so good to physically connect with him while not under the watchful eye of the Commander, a wave of relief flows through me.
Our subtle hand-holding progresses to my front pressing against his back. Then he turns to face me and holds me in his embrace. Finally, we kiss, our lips meeting between the bars.
I know this is for show, Tarrex, but I longed for your touch.
Me too, Savannah. Stay strong. The next hoara will be the most important—and dangerous—in either of our lives.
“Ho! Stop it, you two,” shouts one of the purple Xelkets who has been watching us.
We stop our kiss but continue to hold hands so we’re partially in compliance yet still disobeying their order.
“Step away from each other!”
“But…” I say, removing one hand from Tarrex’s grip but not the other. I’m trying to ride the line, keeping their attention focused on us, but not enough to earn a zap from the stunner or collar.
“Step away!”
I step backward but manage to slip on nothing, falling to the floor.
“Ow!” I rub my knee and backside while I take the opportunity to glance into the K’tar’s cage. The Frains are both staring my way. Score one for the good guys! All I need is another minute of their attention.
“I think I broke something,” I say as I stand, then pull my pants and panties to my knees and rub my hip. I’m facing the back wall, but I hear Tarrex say, You have all of their attention. Do whatever you can to keep it, my love.
His words were calm and supportive, but I feel the underlying burn of his protective instincts. I get it. No male alive wants to see his female ogled.
Some of these guys saw more of me than they had a right to last night. I don’t mind exchanging a bit of my dignity for my freedom. My ultimate revenge will be a bonus, I tell Tarrex as I rub my ass cheek with a moan.
Bending at the waist, I show my backside to the room and say, “Am I getting a bruise?” I wiggle and bend lower, mortified, yet trying to draw out the moment. Every second that commands the guards’ attention is an extra second for King to return to consciousness.
His eyes popped open, Tarrex says.
It takes every bit of self-control I possess to stay in this demeaning position, but if I keep even one of these idiots’ attention for an extra second, it’s a bonus.
Finally, I pull up my pants and turn to watch the action.
King laid down until his brain was fully back online. Now Tarrex gives him the mental nudge to act. He’s a sight to behold as he bounds past Drix, who is unarmed. Wisely choosing to attack Brixxa first. The most important part of our scheme is to get that stunner.
Between the animal’s teeth and his sharp scales and claws, the Frain, even with his protective chitinous exoskeleton, is dead before he can draw his weapon.
King shakes the Frain in his powerful jaws, leaving no doubt the male is dead. He then steps through the open door of his cell and slings him toward the bars of Tarrex’s cell. Tarrex’s long arms give him access to the weapon, which he pulls off the Frain’s dead body. This gives me a bit more confidence in our plan.
The K’tar turns and easily kills Drix, whose disgusting cockroach mouth hung open in horror as he stood paralyzed in terror watching the animal kill his comrade.
The other captives in the cellblock are trying to aid in our escape. They’re screaming and banging against their bars, drawing the remaining guards’ attention.
Tarrex used his tremendous strength of mind to control the two Xelket guards from the moment the K’tar awoke with a roar. I focused on strengthening my null bubble around him to shield his mind from the thoughts and emotions of the males in the cells. Then I sent him my love, which never fails to turbo-charge his psychic abilities.
The guards’ movements were slow and stuporous, their hands clumsy as they tried to aim their weapons. Tarrex is a master at this. He forced them to struggle as if they were walking through quicksand as King dispatched both cockroach-like Frains.
As soon as the stunner was in his hands, he used it on the two purple Xelkets. They’re out of commission because the weapon was set high enough to take down the huge beast who is now roaming the walkway bordering the cells.
You certainly look like the king now, I tell him. He chuffs in response.
“We’re heading to Khour’s cabin,” Tarrex tells the six males in their cells as he rummages through the keys on Brixxa’s belt. It only takes him two tries to find the key to his cell, then he frees me and approaches the other five cells.
“There’s strength in numbers. We’re going to free our two gladiator comrades from Khour’s cabin. Then we’ll storm the bridge. Are you with us?”
He and I discussed this when we made the plan. We never counted on help. Although they’re imprisoned by Khour, they may still be loyal to her or fear her enough to want to sit out the insurrection in the cellblock, fearing she’ll win and wanting to avoid her wrath.
I’m not totally surprised, though, when they all agree.
When Tarrex moves to unlock the first of their cells, one of them shouts, “The beast! Don’t unlock us until you get that thing back in his cage.”
I try to do damage control with King while Tarrex handles the males in the cells. I send the K’tar calm, compassionate emotions. People fear what they don’t understand, and let’s face it, the K’tar is one scary beast.
“He won’t harm you unless he’s attacked first,” Tarrex tells them. “He wants out of here as much as any of us.”
We’d discussed this possibility and decided not to tip our hand that we could communicate with the K’tar . The less anyone knows of Tarrex’s special abilities, the better.
The males pile out of their cells and tear the Xelkets’ weapons out of their dead hands.
“Do any of you know how many crew she has?”
“At least fourteen,” a Xelket prisoner says. “We all used to be on the crew until we earned the hellspawn’s displeasure. The two you just killed are the ones who monitor the vids from the cells, so we will probably have the element of surprise. We need to be on the move.” He holds the keys aloft. “We’ll head to the weapons room. Once we’re all armed, we’ll breach the bridge and kill as many as we can while you collect your friends.”
We barge out of the door and head in two directions.