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Authors: Jaye Peaches

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BOOK: Chosen by the Governor
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What chance did she have if battle-hardened soldiers had struggled with the harsh life of a penal colony?

Through the window, the two suns shone. One large and close, the other a distant fireball. Between them, the golden disk of Tagra. Not a speck of blue on the surface of the planet. Was it totally barren?

“It’s a bleak place, isn’t it?” The voice spoke softly and came from over her shoulder. She started and rotated just in time to catch him rising from his seat. Uniformed, like all the other occupants of the transporter, but not in the style of the soldiers. The lines of his black uniform were smart and on his lapel was a golden badge, a symbol she didn’t recognize. Somebody of a senior rank? He slid along the row and sat in a seat, not quite next to her, but close enough for her to see the smooth outline of his chin and the narrow brows above his dark eyes. Unlike the short haircut of the soldiers, the newcomer had longer locks of hair, which licked around his cheekbones. He had the hefty build of a warrior—the broad shoulders and bulging biceps—but his hands had a delicacy to them—slender and trimmed about the nails.

Freya swallowed hard. This man had a presence and exuded a bold authority, a trait that had been reflected by both her father and the man who’d trained her to be a spy. She glanced over to where the soldiers laughed amongst themselves. They ignored Freya and her companion.

“Yes,” she replied belatedly. “Horrible.”

He laughed. “As it should be. It’s a prison, not a holiday camp. I must say, your Vendu is excellent. I expected I would be conversing to you in English.”

“I’m fluent. Can’t be part of a cultural exchange if you’re not fluent.” Her gift for languages stemmed from her upbringing. Her Swiss father had taught her French and German, her Swedish mother added English to her repertoire. However, the Vendu cared little for the old countries that once had bound people together. Humans had been bundled into one nation and according to the Vendu government, they were to speak one convenient language—English—the first language they’d heard over the airways as they shot down the air forces sent to battle them.

“Ah. The journalist, of course. My English is considered good. I spent four years on planet sixty-two—”

“You mean Earth. Please don’t refer to my home as a number.”

“Forgive me. Earth. We Vendu have explored so many planets it is easier to refer to them by number.” He pointed to the window. “See, we’re moving closer. Soon you’ll be on your new home.”

Freya grimaced. It would never be her home, even if she died there. She turned away from the man and peered through the porthole to the surface of the planet below. The fuzzy gold had taken the form of mountains and vast deserts, but no seas or rivers. The craft banked and followed the curvature of the planet, slowly descending.

“You know about me?” She spoke her thoughts aloud without facing him.

“You’re the only prisoner on board and yes, I’ve also followed your trial in the news. It was swift. Unusually so.”

“It was a setup. They charged me with military espionage.” She whipped her head around. “I never confessed to stealing military secrets. They refused to believe it, even though they used a supposed truth serum on me.”

He tapped the armrest of his seat several times. “I’m not party to the detailed evidence given in your trial. However, you were sentenced and the punishment for espionage is life.”

“Whereas the one for unauthorized filming is lesser. I should be back on Earth serving my time in a prison, not sent halfway across the galaxy to a penal colony.”

He frowned. “The matter has been decided,” he said firmly. “It would be best if you accepted your fate.”

She scowled and returned to examining the landscape below. Something green caught her attention: a snake of verdant pastures running through a narrow canyon. At one end perched on a high plateau was a domed city, the buildings sheathed behind a glittering force field. Below, littered along the valley floor, numerous metallic buildings, and dotted amongst them, a few fields.

Terraforming—the technology the Vendu had stolen from a more advanced civilization and adapted to use on other planets. Whenever they colonized a planet, they recovered barren lands using the secrets of terraforming. Australia, once largely desert and sparsely populated outside of the coastal areas, was now a fertile land with many cities in the interior. The Vendu had thrived next to Ayers Rock in their green cities, beyond the protective shield that encompassed the continent and kept the native humans out. The rise in population had put pressure on the shrinking resources. Without the terraforming technology, which Earth’s leaders hoped would transform the Sahara, people would starve. Freya’s mission to take images of the terraforming plants had been short-lived.

“That is the prison?” She pointed at the dome.

He guffawed. “Oh, no. That is where I shall be living. That is the city of Tagra where we Vendu live. While you, the prisoners, are in the canyon.”

“But there are no fences. Barriers?”

He leaned over her shoulder. “See the desert. There is nowhere to go. That is why this planet is ideal. You have no place to escape to. The dome is to keep us in and safe. You will live freely amongst the others. You’ll work, be paid in food vouchers, and go to bed in a room, not a locked cell.”

“Then why the guards?” She gestured toward the soldiers.

“Why indeed? Traditionally the governors have allowed the prisoners to police themselves. Petty crimes and misdemeanors are for the jurisdiction of the colony police force. However, major crimes, uprising and insurrection, those are for us to deal with. And we do so, harshly. That is what makes Tagra appealing for a young soldier. They come for a few years, need only watch and listen from afar as the prisoners squabble amongst themselves. A remote location it might be, but there are many pleasures for a young Vendu soldier to have in Tagra city. You might remember that, Freya.”

What did he mean by that? She opened her mouth to ask, but he tapped his earpiece. “I’m on my way,” he barked into the mouthpiece clipped to his lapel. Without another word he left the cabin.

The transporter circled the colony, descending lower until ready to make its entry into the dock. By then Freya was nauseous and despondent. Her future was bleak and unknown.

No shackles or restraints were used on her, but the guard’s grip on her elbow as he escorted her off the ship was vise-like. He weaved her through the cheerful faces of the soldiers and into the building that housed the reception center for new prisoners.

Brought before a counter, being the sole arrival for that day, Freya eyed the long-faced man behind the desk. Initially, he merely glanced at her, then lifting his chin again, he peered down his nose and inspected her as if she was an exhibit in a zoo. “So, this is the Earthling. Prisoner number sixty-two, one.”

“Freya,” she snapped. “My name is Freya Caspari.”

“Planet sixty-two, prisoner number one. Although, I gather Earthlings were sent to other penal colonies during the conquest of planet sixty-two—”

She seethed at his reference to the so-called conquest. “Earth, it’s called Earth. We made a peace treaty. There was no defeat.”

He glared at her and the guard, whose hand remained firmly grasped around her upper arm, pinched it harder, drawing her back and away from the counter.

The man jabbed his finger in the air and stabbed at an imaginary point in front of him. “Do not interrupt me.” He lowered his hand. “As I was saying. Some of the prisoners of war, those who resisted, were sent here until Earth sensibly accepted the terms of defeat. There hasn’t been an Earthling on Tagra for a long time and you are the first female Earthling to be incarcerated on this colony. Ever.” He smiled with the last word. “You’ve much to learn.”

“I was aware of the soldiers sent here, but there would have been women soldiers captured too. Surely they were the first human females held captive?” The history of that era remained cast in shadows. Nobody dared dredge up the past and recount those terrible days when Earth came close to destruction.

“Women warriors!” he scoffed and shook his head. “The Vendu are the warrior race and we rely on our men to fight. Women are the nest makers and bringers of joy when the weary soldier returns from battle.” He clucked his tongue. “Any woman found in uniform would be sent home, where she belongs.”

Freya narrowed her eyes and dispatched an angry glare, but the man turned away and focused on the details flashing up on the monitor.

“It appears you have been allocated work in the laundry complex. Only the most trusted, long-serving prisoners live in accommodation with washing facilities—water is precious. You will work every day there, ensuring fresh clothing and bedding is issued to all prisoners. Tagra is a hot planet. You might find you need to wear little to keep cool.” He chortled. “Most females prisoners prefer to keep cool.”

“So I’m not the only female here?”

“Oh, no. We have many sent here from all over the empire. Disobedient females, just like their male counterparts. Thieves, rebels, and spies, like yourself. Now. Before you are assigned your accommodation, food vouchers, and work clothes, you must undergo an extensive medical exam.”

“What!” Freya gaped. “I had one before I left Earth.”

The guard at her shoulder snorted. “That was to ensure you could survive the stasis procedure,” he said.

“Then, what is this one for?” she asked.

“You might carry diseases that require quarantine,” said the man behind the counter. “You also are the first female from your planet. A record will need to be made of all of your facets. Our medics will need to know how to treat you if you fall ill. It is very thorough.”

Goosebumps prickled down Freya’s back and she licked her dry lips. “Thorough?”

“You’ll find out.” He pointed to a door. “Take her down there. Exam room two. They’re waiting for her. I understand they’ve been excited about her arrival for some time.”

“They?”

“The doctors. They’ve never seen an Earthling. You’re a novelty. Quite unlike other convicts sent here.”

Chapter Three

 

 

The guard had to push Freya through the door into the medical suite. Her legs had started to shake so badly, she could barely walk. “There you go. Don’t fret,” he said, almost kindly. “They’re doctors. Not military.”

The door banged shut behind her and she stood before the two men, both of whom were dressed in white tunics and pants, and were carrying recording devices—thin tablets almost like paper.

“Prisoner sixty-two, one. Correct?” one announced, reading off his screen.

“Freya Caspari.” She wasn’t going to give up her name for anyone.

The slightly taller man smiled. “Freya. If that makes you more comfortable, then we’ll call you that.” They looked very alike, almost twins. The same build, the same buzz-cut hair and the square-set jaw, which was common amongst the Vendu. However, unlike the burly soldiers on the transport, these men were wispier, less imposing. The Vendu were a mighty race of humanoids, their bodies typically lean and muscular. The density of their muscles gave them incredible strength compared to humans. Their eyes could focus in on smaller details and their sense of smell was heightened and sensitive. However, their hearing appeared no different as she muttered under her breath, “Bastards.”

They twitched in unison, but seemed not to have heard what she said.

“You’ll need to strip naked and then we can start. This might take a while, so if you need a drink, please say so.” The taller man pointed at a chair. “Place your clothing there. You’ll be issued with new ones.”

“Naked? Where is the nurse? A female chaperone?” She glanced around the vast exam room with its beds and cabinets. One examination table gave her palpitations. It had the familiarity of a gynecological setup with stirrups and adjustable leg rests.

The short man smirked. “Nurse? Doctor Curzon and I are fully qualified to conduct this examination. The presence of additional personnel is unnecessary.”

“But… but you’re men,” she stuttered, taking a step backwards.

“We’re doctors. I am Doctor Han and I’m an expert in alien physiology. I’ve conducted many examinations of aliens.” He seemed pleased with the declaration, but Freya had heard not one word of comfort or reassurance.

“Please. This is very scary for me—”

Doctor Curzon stepped forward and touched her shoulder. Freya flinched, shrugging his hand off her. “Freya,” he said gently. “We’re doctors. We need to know how your physiology functions. How different it is to other species we have on the colony. If you fall ill, we must know how to treat you. We will make a record of you now to benchmark against. All your measurements, your blood makeup, your skin condition, and your internal organs, too. Now, please remove your clothing, because if you don’t we will be forced to call in the guard and have him strip you. This is not a choice, Freya. This medical assessment is compulsory.”

Resigned to the situation, she dredged up the willpower she needed to see her through the ordeal. Her arms moved stiffly as she hooked the t-shirt over her head. She nearly stumbled as she bent over to lower her pants, turning sideways so they couldn’t see the cleft in her bottom or the tuft of hair at the apex of her thighs. She quickly tossed the clothes on the chair unfolded, then covered her breasts with one arm and her pubic mound with her palm of her hand.

“Hands to your sides, please,” ordered Dr. Curzon.

She slowly dropped her arms and cringed as her naked body was put on display. She swayed slightly before finding the strength to lock her knees and prevent them from wobbling.

He waved a scanning device up and down her torso, noting the presence of her organs. “Heart is located slightly to the left.”

“Why is that important?” she queried.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? It’s so with the Vendu. Most humanoids we encounter, the heart is to the right. Also you have one liver, not two, but it is larger than ours.”

She shrugged off his comments. Since the Vendu had arrived on Earth nearly a century ago, the human race had been made aware of numerous similar species scattered across the galaxy. Their origins remained unknown, but since the Vendu were dominant and controlled vast sectors of space, they hid their secrets well. Only the Vendu had visited Earth.

BOOK: Chosen by the Governor
7.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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