Date point: 4y 11m 1w 2d AV
Drixian looked down at the two little humans sitting before him, completely unable to believe what they were telling him.
“You humans sit there, and tell me, that you took on a full sized cruiser, in your tiny ship, with no weapons or shields, landed on the ship, then air-locked thirty men into space, electrocuted ten more, and killed twenty more by lighting them on fire? Then you took prisoners?”
Jason sat in the chair that was about four sizes too large for him and replied, “Well…yeah. You told us to capture a ship. So…we did.”
Humans, thought Drixian.
“Will you keep your promise to us?” asked Ted.
Leaning back in his chair, the Locayl looked at them, his alien expressions unreadable.
“If you truly have the location of their base, and your ship can really hide all of mine, then…yes. I will help you.” he said.
“Excelle-“
“I’m not done human.”
The Locayl leaned forward, “I have another condition, in addition to the safe return of my brother, or his killer. I want to keep the base, after it’s over. No questions asked.”
Looking at Ted, Jason stared for a moment before shrugging and said, “That’s fine with me. I don’t see why you ca-“
“The slaves go free, Drixian.” interrupted Ted.
Turning his attention back to Ted, the Locayl grunted, “They come with the mine. If I do this, I get to keep them as well.”
Ted stood and his tone was ice, as he said, “No. You stand to gain too much to let this condition ruin the deal. The slaves go free. End of discussion.”
Drixian again leaned back in his chair, pondering whether it would be worth it to start repopulating the mine after letting all of the slaves go. Of course, he could simply lie, but double crossing humans who had just told them that the three of them had taken a military cruiser by themselves, was most likely a foolish course of action.
“Very well, human. The slaves go free.” he said, slowly, as though he’d rather be saying anything else.
Waiting to speak, to see if he was going to be interrupted again, Jason said, “I believe we have a deal. Now, as far as ships, weapons and men, show us what you have.”
Bristling slightly, Drixian said, “That is not a Captain’s place. I will have one of my men do that for you.”
Pushing a button and talking to the device on his desk, the pirate said, “Bruntabi, I want you to show the humans our ship and weapon capabilities. Come to my study to get them.”
There came a reply of, “Yes, sir.”
As the Locayl looked at the humans again, Jason said, “One more thing.”
“Yes, human?”
Jason and Ted stood up from their overly large chairs.
“We leave as soon as we’re ready.”
Date point: 4y 11m 1w 3d AV
Darkness.
There was only darkness and echoes.
Robert didn’t know how long he’d been here. He’d woken up in blackness, with terrible pain covering his entire body.
It felt like he’d been subjected to every beating he’d ever had in his life, condensed into one singular, ruthless and hellish assault. The cut in his left arm was by far the worst, but they’d sealed it when he was unconscious.
There were manacles around his wrists and ankles, but instead of being chained in a kneeling position, he was flat on his back, his arms and legs splayed out in four directions. The chains were tight as well, maybe an inch of slack in them; made to keep him from standing or moving at all.
They were feeding him, albeit barely. Every ten or so hours, though it was impossible to really tell, his manacles dropped off of him, and a small slot on a door opened, and one of the terrible food balls was pushed through.
Starved as he was, and with a body trying to heal itself after its ordeal, he had no room to complain.
There was a place to use the bathroom as well, that he was allowed to use at his meal times, though he’d been let up once or twice when he could no longer hold it in.
He was required to slide his hands and ankles back into the manacles every time, and had been told that no food would be given again if he refused to do as ordered.
In the undetermined amount of time between meals, all Robert had to occupy himself was his own thoughts, which were almost as bad as the prison cell he was in.
Lying on the ground, his body screaming at him from every angle, he thought about the things he had done in the fight.
It had been like a fever dream. Confused and disjointed, but so terrifyingly real.
He remembered screaming at the top of his lungs at the beginning of the fight. There were disjointed movements involving avoiding being slashed to ribbons. Crushing Ryxus’s wrist using only his fist, and the sound and feeling of brittle bones shattering and nearly exploding with the force they’d been subjected to.
And his eyes.
The eyes of his enemy as he’d brought the axe down through his head.
The eyes haunted him the most and they were the most vivid memory. They were sad and frightened; unable to comprehend how he had been brought low by the human.
Robert had been glad to see such despair.
Afterwards he’d torn at least twenty others apart, either by severing limbs and bodies with the sword, or using his bare hands to tear limbs off.
He’d done it. He’d given in to his demons again. After so long, he’d failed.
Training to fight in the beginning had been about learning to defend himself. As time progressed though, it had been about letting his aggression out, in a safe environment.
Control was easy to maintain when the fight wasn’t real. The movements and form channeled the anger out of him as he performed them with a maddening sense of perfectionism.
It always left him feeling so clear, and able to focus on his true passion in robotics and technology and learning. It was like a guilty pleasure that consumed him when he wasn’t in his books.
The anger began to come out at the wrong times though.
The first time he’d lost control was when he’d attacked his tormentor, Isaac Santos. Even now, it was difficult to remember what had happened that day. The only clear memory he had was of him kneeling over Isaac, after it was over, covered in sweat and with bloody fists.
There had been narrow misses as well; very narrow. Several people just standing in the wrong place when he was in a bad mood, and they’d happened to look at him in a way he hadn’t liked.
He isolated himself after he nearly struck his father.
It hadn’t even been a serious argument. They’d been discussing whose turn it was for chores, and Robert had been walking away when his Dad tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.
After feeling the contact, Robert had spun on the spot, and he’d frozen with his fist an inch from his father’s nose.
He’d left his home that same night and had never returned. His mother and father had called him many times, trying to get him to come back, but he never answered; only listening to the voicemails, desperate to hear their voices.
A robotics company had offered him a job, and he’d begun work only two weeks later, rising quickly to a lead developer.
After he’d run away, mastery of his problem had taken time.
Most of the time, the issue was non-existent, and he could go about his day without any issue. People could touch him now. He could now easily fight the urge down if someone was being rude or hostile towards him, as he’d done many times since his capture. But, he couldn’t allow himself to be around too many people. The urge was still there, and he didn’t trust himself.
But, he’d given himself over to it again; to kill this time.
The thought sickened him.
Bringing him out of his thoughts, the lights flicked on in his cell for the first time.
Not having seen light in what felt like days, Robert’s eyes felt like they’d been stuck with hot pins.
The door that his food came through opened and ten Chehnasho walked inside, aiming weapons. It seemed a bit unnecessary, given his restraints.
Bilgrath followed them in. A momentary flash of anger shot through him, but was suppressed.
“Human, how are your injuries healing?”
Deciding whether or not it was worth becoming hostile again so early, Robert said, slowly, “They would heal faster if I got more food.”
Looking interested, Bilgrath replied, “Do Deathworlders need more food than normal species? I’ll arrange for more food to be delivered at regular intervals.”
Confused, Robert began to wonder why Bilgrath was being so polite. Bilgrath had the advantage right now. There was no reason he should be agreeable to helping him.
“Is there anything else you require? I cannot let you up from your restraints, but a few comforts could be given to you? Perhaps a cushion between you and the floor?” asked Bilgrath, much too politely.
“What do you want, slaver?”
Annoyance flashed across the Chehnasho’s face, but became kind once again.
“We need you to be ready and rested and in as good of shape as possible.”
Becoming even more suspicious, Robert asked, “For what?”
“For the auction, human. Your auction. The Captain was thoroughly impressed with your abilities. Apparently even compared to other humans you are quite dangerous. You are going to be sold so that you can fight, for a new master. Much better than breaking rocks all day. You’ll get all the food you want, comforts, and leisure. It’s a good thing.” said Bilgrath.
“I…I see. And if I choose not to fight?”
Bilgrath smiled sickeningly.
“Oh, I assume your new master will not allow that. They’ll either kill you, or coerce you in some way.”
Laying his head back down on the metal of the floor, Robert had a small crisis of pride. A cushion really would be very nice.
No, he thought, I will not allow myself to become indebted to them; for anything.
Without looking at Bilgrath, he said, “Are you done?”
A quick flash of anger crossed the Chehnasho’s face, as the slave, chained to the floor, dismissed him.
“Yes, human. I only wanted to make sure you were healing, and comfortable. As long as you continue to follow the rules, you will be fed and watered.”
Turning and not looking back again, Bilgrath exited the room with his guards.
As the door clanged shut, the lights went out again.
Remaining lying on the floor, Robert thought about being sold to the highest bidder.
“Fuck. I’m never getting back to the Reclamation.”
“Sir, I’ve spoken with the human.”
“And?” inquired Kingruta.
Bilgrath sat in front of his Captain’s desk and replied, “He is still completely covered in injuries. The gashes on his arm and abdomen are healing, but the pulse fire injuries have gone a nasty yellow and purple color. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they looked infected, but if our information on human anatomy is accurate, that is a sign of them healing. It looks disgusting.”
Leaning forward in his chair, the Captain said, “Disgusting or not, the human needs to be as healed as possible for the auction, Bilgrath.”
“Sir, humans heal quickly, but not that quickly. Complete recovery simply isn’t possible in that amount of time.”
Sighing and standing from his chair, Kingruta began to pace the room.
“Concerning other matters, what about the Gaoians? Have they been found?”
Bilgrath stood as well, as his superior began pacing.
“Sir, they have not been found. We have no idea where they could be hiding. We’ve searched the mine from top to bottom. I believe that the other slaves are helping them hide.” Bilgrath said in answer.
Stopping his pacing, the slaver Captain turned a stony face to his officer.
“It has been [two days] and you still cannot find them!? What of the executions I ordered?”
Forcing himself not to fidget under Kingruta’s baleful gaze, Bilgrath said, “We’ve been carrying out executions since yesterday night, telling them that they will only stop once the Gaoians have been found. The slaves seem terrified, but none have come forward to betray them.”
His gaze boring into Bilgrath’s eyes, the Chehnasho said, “Well, it sounds like you’ll have to start killing more of them.”
Disliking being looked at with such anger by his Captain, Bilgrath decided to change the subject.
“What of the auction attendees, sir? Do you know how many people will be coming?”
Bilgrath had made a good move in changing the subject, as Kingruta’s demeanor changed immediately upon hearing the question.
“We have at least three attending for sure, with maybe another in the works. They’ll be bringing their own security forces, so I want everything to be perfect. If they come here and we look weak, one of them could decide that we’re an easy target, and try to take us over. I want men pulled from the mines to stand guard over the proceedings. ”
“I understand, sir. When will they be getting here, and when is the auction?”
Turning to stare out the window, to stare at the distant walls of the arena, Kingruta replied, “They’ll be getting here in [three days] and we’ll be starting the auction the same day.”
“For an organization that’s reportedly been brought to its knees, you’ve still got a lot of firepower, Bruntabi.” wondered Jason.
Walking around one of the hangars and several armories, Bruntabi had been showing them stockpiles of weapons, fusion blades, mounted pulse cannons, ship mounted plasma cannons, and a whole host of ships, perhaps thirty strong, with enough room to carry maybe a thousand men.
“Our organization was always stronger in boarding combat than the Plague. We lost the war because they had better ships and pilots. If it had been a fight on even ground, or in ship corridors, the Chehnasho would not have even made it past the edge of the Far Reaches.”
Striding to the end of the hangar, Bruntabi showed them one final ship.
It was a large and sleek looking vessel, painted black, with the crest of the Dying Light on the front of it; it was maybe half the size of the cruiser they’d seized.
“This is Captain Drixian’s ship. It holds about fifty men, and is the fastest ship we have. He will be next to you every step of the way until we get to the Chehnasho base; most likely to keep an eye on you.” Bruntabi said, looking down at the two humans.
As they began to leave the hangar, all three of them walking in silence, Bruntabi turned to the humans again.
“I know that you are doing this for your own gain, humans. Even so, I thank you for the second chance you are giving us, so that we might return to power.”
Ted bristled slightly, and said, “You wouldn’t be returning to power if we could help it, Locayl. You have ships and men, which is what we need to save our friend. That is as far as this relationship goes.”
Chuckling with a deep voice, Bruntabi replied, “I like you humans. You are so very direct and brutal, but without being stupid. You would make good pirates.”
Taken aback by the compliment, and sure that it wasn’t a compliment that he wanted to hear, Ted didn’t answer.
They walked in silence, the humans having to take longer strides, to keep up with their guide.
Walking up to Drixian’s door again, Bruntabi opened it, and said, “This is where I leave you, humans. I’ll see you on the battlefield.”
The Locayl smiled on the word ‘battlefield’.
Walking inside, as the Locayl took his leave, the saw Drixian was no longer at his desk.
The badly scarred Locayl was buckling a belt around his baggy shorts, turned away from them.
The belt carried four long fusion blades, and a pulse pistol for each arm.”
“Do my weapons and ships please you, human?” he rumbled.
Jason strode forward, and replied, stone faced, “They’ll do. How many men do you have?”
Looking around, his belt buckled and armed to the teeth, the Locayl answered, “I have five hundred fighters. But, many of the slaves Kingruta has were once my men. When we burn the sky of that moon, they will fight with us.”
Jason’s face hardened, ready for the battle.
“When do we attack, human?” Drixian asked.
“It’ll take a while to get there, but we attack as soon as we arrive.” he answered.
Jason began to leave the room, about to head back to his ship, and continued, without looking at the Locayl, “We attack in three days.”
Date point: 4y 11m 1w 4d AV
“Tricko, the executions are getting worse. I think some of the others might be about to break.” Guntraga said, looking seriously at the little Gaoian who was still stuck in the incinerator room, surrounded by bodies.
Tricko was pacing back and forth, trying to decide what to do.
“Do you know who?” he asked.
“It’ll be that idiot Vzk’tk. The cowardly one.” chittered Ryst, from his ghoulish seat of bodies.
Looking at the Gaoian, Guntraga had a small flash of disgust and another of respect. Most people who came down here were so disgusted by the room that they could never do the job of throwing bodies into the fires. Others were whipped for not wanting to touch them, while the little Gaoian was using a dead Locayl’s leg as a seat.
“You’re right. He’s been looking very nervous every time he sees me or one of our men. I’m having him tailed right now, and if he tries to talk to a guard, they’ve been told to kill him.” growled the Locayl, angry at the perceived treachery.
Chanuck, avoiding the bodies much more than Ryst, piped up, and asked, “What do you want to do about it, Tricko?”
Tricko looked surprised at being asked what he wanted done about it. He’d been getting asked all kinds of questions like this, ever since they’d all agreed to fight.
“Why do you keep asking me these questions? I’m not a clan leader. Our clan leader is dead, Chanuck.”
Chanuck and Ryst both laughed at this.
“You idiot. You’ve been clan leader ever since the human first fell at our feet, whipped half to death.” replied Ryst.
“We’re a small clan, it’s true. But still, you’re its leader. Start acting like it.” smiled Chanuck.
Staying quiet for a moment, wondering at being called a clan leader, Tricko said slowly, “In that case… I think we need to kill the Vzk’tk. If you really think he’s going to give us away, he’ll get all of us, including himself killed.”
“Do you really want to get started down that road?” asked Guntraga.
Stooping down low, to look Tricko in the eyes, he continued, “That’s a dangerous and bloody path to go down, little Gaoian.”
Hesitating, with neither Ryst nor Chanuck moving, aware that their lives depended on their next action, Tricko asked the Locayl, “You’re sure he’s going to betray us?”
“Positive. I saw his face when they executed the first slave. He’s going to break.” rumbled Guntraga.
Closing his eyes, trying to decide another man’s fate, Tricko thought of the executions that had started because of him.
He’d been told they hadn’t even bothered to accuse the Vzk’tk of anything. Ten men had charged into the mine entrance and grabbed the first slave they’d come upon.
Dragged, kicking and screaming in terror, he’d been brought to the platform, looking out over the mine entrance, as a crowd of several hundred began forming.
Commander Bilgrath had walked forward after the Vzk’tk was restrained and put on his knees, still shrieking with fear.
“Workers. Listen to me. Three Gaoians have been accused of attempting to give rise to a rebellion. This behavior is unacceptable; most unacceptable.”
A plasma whip flared into life in the hand of a guard next to him, who moved forward to stand behind the terrified slave.
Bilgrath gave a nod to the guard, who slashed at the prisoners back viciously.
An ear shattering shriek cut through the air.
Several of the onlookers tried to slip away, but guards on the catwalk fired directly in front of their feet, and told them to stay where they were.
“This man’s pain is a preview of the same pain you will share if the Gaoians are not found.”
Another swing, accompanied with another screech of agony.
“The Gaoians will be brought to this platform; immediately. Am I understood?” asked the Chehnasho.
Another snap of plasma, and another shriek.
The Vzk’tk was losing strength now, beginning to go limp.
“If they are not brought to me, this will happen to each and every one of you.”
The Vzk’tk had gone unconscious now, and gave no response other than a slight jerk when the whip cracked again.
No one in the mine moved or spoke.
Striding up to the broken slave, Bilgrath drew his pulse pistol.
“Learn your lesson now, before this is you.”
And he shot the innocent man.
Tricko thought deeply of the pain he had caused.
Executions were happening every few hours now; each more brutal than the last.
“What was the name of the slave who was first executed?” asked Tricko, of no one in particular.
Surprised, Guntraga answered, “I think I heard that his name was Trvnxrnt, from one of the other slaves as he was being whipped.”
Standing, steel rising in him, Tricko said, “Kill the Vzk’tk. I will not allow Trvnxrnt’s death to go unpunished, nor any of the others who have been killed because of us.”
Ryst rose from the leg of the dead Locayl.
“Is it time to fight back now?” he asked.
Turning to his clan brother, Tricko asked, “How many weapons do we have now?”
Chanuck answered, instead of Ryst, “We have around thirty of the cannons ready, and they’ve all got the gravity plating you told us to take off of the mine carts. Two Vzk’tk or one Locayl should be able to carry them by themselves, and it only takes one to fire and another to reload once they’ve been set up on the ground.”
“Ammunition?”
“We’ve got nearly three hundred rounds scattered all over the mine. We’ll gather them just as we’re about to attack.” Chanuck said.
Tricko began to pace; thinking of all of the options open to them.
“What about those explosives Guntraga thought of?” he asked.
Speaking again, Guntraga answered, “We have quite a lot of it. We had to remove all of those receivers from the detonators though. They should be ready to go.”
Stopping, and bracing himself for what he was about to say, Tricko looked at his companions and said, “You know that the human is going to be sold in [two days] right?”
Ryst replied, “Yeah, that’s why we haven’t seen him. They locked him up right after the fight.”
Taking a breath, Tricko slowly said, “I think that we should attack during the auction.”
“What?” rumbled Guntraga.
Both Ryst and Chanuck began to describe why that was a terrible idea.
“There’s going to be extra security from the buyers during the auction!” cried Ryst.
Chanuck groaned, as he said, “They’re going to be ready for the human to do something, so they’ll be on high alert!”
Shouting his fellows down, Tricko said, seriously, “There are going to be fewer guards in the mine than we could possibly have hoped for. The biggest obstacle is the front gate. Once we get past that, we will have the advantage of numbers, and we’ll be picking up weapons from dead guards along the way. Also, once the human is free, we will be unstoppable. And, on top of all of that, more ships are going to be in the hangars to escape on!”
Silence filled the room as Guntraga, Ryst and Chanuck considered the idea.
“I think we should do it.” said Ryst, finally.
A moment passed before Chanuck said, “A lot of slaves are going to die between then and now, Tricko.”
Boring his gaze into Chanuck, Tricko answered, “And that is not my fault. I also intend to repay it in kind with blood.”
His deep voice rumbling with amusement, Guntraga said, “Very well. We attack at the time of the human’s auction.”