Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1) (3 page)

Trex stifled the growl building in his chest when he looked down at the manacles around his wrists. A long, heavy chain fastened his manacles to the metal collar shackled around the small Avanarian female slave’s neck in front of him. In similar fashion, the collar around his neck was chained to the manacled wrists of the slave behind him.

Only his iron wrought determination forged in his personal war against an unspeakable evil allowed Trex to keep his head bowed and his anger subdued. It was not an easy feat. Since allowing himself to be captured, a few weeks ago and brought into slavery -another travesty fostered under the tender auspices of Novokin Alliance rule- he had borne witness to more unspeakable atrocities. The journey from his quadrant of space to this place had been exhausting. The food sparse, the beatings many and the stench of unwashed bodies nauseating.

Being paraded through this alien space station, chained, barefoot and practically naked, he faced the covert stares of many a free citizen purposefully engrossed in their daily routine. It wasn't their disgust or their perverse looks that made his blood boil, but their pity. Their pity made it hard for him to mask the hatred that was in his heart, and the fury he would reign down upon he of whom he had sworn an oath of blood vengeance.

The slave caravan stopped with an abrupt jerk of the chains, interrupting his musings. Trex struggled to keep himself from crashing into the small Avanarian woman in front of him and he winced as his neck’s shackle was yanked violently backwards when the Narnidite male attached behind him collapsed to the ground. Malnourishment and his share of the daily beatings finally caught up to the Narnidite. He held no ill will to the scraggy older male who had inadvertently choked him. Weak as he was, his days were numbered. The thought weighed heavily on Trex’s shoulders. His heart was tormented and saddened. He liked the old male. He merely stooped his posture to ease the pressure on the chain connected to his neck. Using this down time to study his surroundings.

They were at what he thought must be the space station’s promenade, or at least where he assumed most business took place. A constant stream of customers were moving in and out of the various shops arrayed in circular, honeycomb patterns connected by long, well-lit hallways was dizzying. There were shops for everything and everybody. From fancy women's attire to dried meats and what passed for precious stones in this sector of space. Cameras hovered over the entrance of each hallway recording the shoppers’ every movement. Even amongst the chaos his keen eye caught Novokin guards covertly stationed in pairs along the upper walkways.              

He searched the crowd for familiar species. Some he recognized from his time on the slave ship. Others seemed as fanciful as the images of the wild worlds often featured in Space Geographic. He’d never admit it to his fellow soldiers, as a fierce warrior of the now extinct Othmarvian Royal guard holding the rank of Esmardlan or exalted commander, but reading was one of his favorite leisure activities. His soul ached to see his people. He hadn't seen another of his kind for several months, not that he had expected to. There was none left. He was the last of his kind. And the last of royal blood. How ironic. Being 16th in line for the throne, there was no chance of him ever ascending to the crown, not that he even cared about such matters. The cry of the battlefield drummed in his warrior’s heart. Diplomacy and bureaucracy rarely graced his disposition. However it was customary to have at least one member in line for the throne off world at all times. This forced vacation spared him from sharing the same fate as his people. 

The majority of the species hastily traversing the promenade were foreign and somewhat strange to him. Even stranger than those he was accustomed to. A large blue semi transparent gelatinous creature walked together with a huddled old brownish humanoid sporting a face as wrinkled as a charchave nut. A reddish creature that seemed to be made of intertwined vines hurried past the slave line, while three women who shared the same skin as the young girl near the front of the line gawked with fear. Either at him or at the entirety of the scene itself, he could not be certain.

It was a hodgepodge of sentient life forms who seemed to share two things, beside the need for commerce. They all had that scurry to their step and nervous eyes that spoke of a Novokin Alliance presence. A flutter of hope touched his spirit.
Could his quarry be here?

              Across the main thoroughfare he saw three Daunietes scrutinizing the caravan. Though they had no home world in his sector, he had seen his share of this despicable creature. They were ruthless, conniving and dishonorable creatures, selling biological weaponry to the highest bidder. Warmongers, always in the shadow of an emerging conflict, but decidedly absent in the carnage. On top of it all, they were speciests. Whenever one of them left their home world or more precisely their home atmosphere, they did so only in protective gear and breathing masks. They refused to share the air with what they considered inferior species, which apparently included every sentient life form in the galaxy but them.

He bristled, the muscles in his arms tightened, his hands folded into fists... But only for a moment, as the awareness of his purpose kept him in check -albeit didn’t quell his rage-
and he forcefully slumped his shoulders back down. If the Daunietes were looking for slaves it was for suicide work. He'd have to make sure he didn't end up with them. This most likely would mean a demonstration of strength and a limited show of resistance on his part, certain to be followed by disciplinary action from the lead Lizardian.

Shouting at the front of the line caught his attention. He suspected it had something to do with the Terran girl the slavers had picked up less than a week ago. He liked her, she was kind. He bore witness to more than one occasion when she shared her food with the older, sick Oskevite female. She also kept the Floturan child by the hem of her skirt. Tending to her like she was her own. Protecting her against the abuse of the guards, placing her own body between the beating stick of the guards and the child. The thought pulled his lips into a smile. It was rare he witnessed such acts of compassion and strength from someone in her predicament, let alone to a different species. Was it just her or was such honorable behavior part of all Terran people’s make up? Since this sector of space was largely populated by Terrans, he had a feeling he soon would find out. Either way it was admirable, if not suicidal.

The Lizardian with one missing eye that led them onto the Promenade and had been left to guard the front of the slave line, he must have pushed the Terran girl to the ground. He screamed something at her. Trex didn't catch what he said. When his emotions ran high, his people's particular genetics interfered with the nanocircuitry of the universal translating chip the slavers had embedded in his skull, a standard practice in Novokin space. Trex's blood boiled as the one-eyed monster pulled out his electrowhip. A deep rumble shook the massive Othmarvian’s chest. The jagged metal spikes of that infuriating whip had colored Trex's back many times during the long, abusive journey here. His fists tightened involuntarily straining against the manacles around his wrists. If he wasn't careful, he'd accidentally break his bonds. His jaw shook with silent rage.

Then the most curious of things happened. One of the Daunietes who had been watching their group intently stepped in between the girl and the irate Lizardian. It seemed the Dauniete wanted to haggle for her. Another small piece of his heart cracked at the thought of her being sold to such a dishonorable species.

The Lizardian brute gestured to the rest of the slaves in the line behind the Terran girl but the Dauniete shook his head and pointed vehemently at her. He waved what must pass for currency in this quadrant in front of the reptilian's face.

The foul creature snorted. "Why? I have plenty more. Look at this line of fine specimens. Many, much stronger for whatever you need."

The Dauniete said something. Trex’s translator was still malfunctioning, or had never been keyed in to the Dauniete language. The Lizardian dropped his striking arm and pointed toward other slaves in the line again. "I understand good sir, but I have more that are also just as small."

Trex was keenly aware that if she wasn’t sold today, she would definitely die under the Lizardian’s hand.

The haggling continued between the guard and the Dauniete and Trex watched as the Terran girl rose to her feet in defiance to her reptilian abuser. The guard raised a scaled eyeridge, amused by the girl’s futile act of opposition. His yellow, reptilian, sinister eyes remained locked on her as he hissed at the Dauniete, "This girl isn't being sold here today. I have other plans for her.” He flicked a long, skinny, black, bifurcated tongue out the corner of his toothy snout. Averting his attention back to the potential customer he continued, “Anyway I'm going to enjoy breaking this one before I get rid of her. So if you want a slave today you better pick another one." He then turned his back on the shorter than usual Dauniete captain and charged his whip.

Trex's fury threatened to boil over. Already small cracks spiderwebbed the steel around his wrists. Yet, he couldn’t reveal himself. He had to steel his heart. He had to stay true to his mission. To avenge his people. He at least owed them that.

The reptilian scum flailed the electro-whip backwards to gather momentum and as he did, the electrically charged filaments passed within millimeters of the Dauniete. For the briefest of seconds the Dauniete's face flickered, revealing the image of a woman.
A Terran woman. A very beautiful Terran woman.

Every shield Trex had built since he discovered his lifeless world, cracked.

The whip, now mid swing held the promise of death should it find purchase on the soft skin of the Terran slave girl. Blinding rage shook Trex’s body. His jaw clenched painfully. Gold-hued blood spilled to the ground as his nails dug deep in his fisted hands. He saw himself jumping the foul monster, his hands tightly wrapped around the Lizardian’s neck, as he slowly vanquished the life out of him, relishing every second. Making him pay for the death and destruction his pitiful existence has caused so many. Make him-.

PHISHZeeew! Nanoseconds later, the green scaled arm holding the flesh hungry whip was gone, simply vaporized.

I struggled to hear the com link over the howls of the one-eyed and as of one minute ago, one-armed reptilian guard. A fitting gift from yours truly. Finally Jaxx's voice broke through. "Captain, I thought you said something about not drawing attention to ourselves?”

Was this really the appropriate time for snark? "Shut it J, kind of busy right now." I fired two shots at an approaching Novokin guard, relieving him of his knee. "What have you got for me by the way of exit strategies?"

Jaxx turned all business. "Well Captain, based on your position, at your 5 o'clock, there's another hallway, like the one you're in. It extends for at least 2 clicks. There's a service access tunnel point at your 9 o'clock, and of course in front of you, where all the security guards are coming in is the main route back to the ship." Decorum dictated that it was not okay to slap a pregnant man, but when this was over I was at least going to make fun of how much weight he put on.

"Thanks for that one J. What can you give me by way of distraction?"

"Your best bet Captain is to take out one of the power conduit junctions. They're designated by three orange parallel stripes on any of the panels you see running overhead. Usually every 10th panel. Big boom. However, the safety overrides on a station like this should keep it from becoming a cascading explosion. So individual big booms, with minimal loss to structural integrity or injury to innocent bystanders."

I ducked down behind the now whimpering, minus-one-arm, reptilian guard as plasma beams burned through the air where I stood, a mere moment ago. I fired at a gray plate with the three orange parallel stripes above their heads. The blast wasn't as big as I would've liked but the resulting concussion knocked both of the Novokin guards firing at me out cold. I'd have to remember to tell Jaxx how beautiful he looked today. I radioed him again. "What have you got for me strategy-wise?"

"Don't get shot."

"Thanks a lot." I deadpanned.

The big, greenish gray guy I was hiding behind had stopped whining. He feebly reached out to the ground in front of him to pick up the laser-whip with his good hand. I noticed the burnt stump of his right arm was starting to squirm and bud. Huh, a regenerator. I'd have to remember that. Then I drove my plastisteel composite-toed boot hard into his face.

CRACK!

Jaxx squawked in my ear. "You want us laying down cover fire from our end Captain?"

I crouched down by the Terran young woman, extending my arm out to her. She recoiled like a wounded animal, brows drawn together, lips pressed so tight they paled.

"Negative, I'm gonna send this group your way. Make sure you get them on the ship. Offer them free ride, room and board, whatever ‘till we figure it out. And J..., make sure you take care of yourself big daddy. You know, I'm looking forward to being a godmother."

“Sure
-sniffle-
thing
-sniffle-
Captain,” he blubbered, and she could hear the flood gates opening wide.

I rolled my eyes and yelled through the com line, “Ensign!”

“I’m on it Captain. No worries,” he assured before the line went dead.

Actually, worries are all I had recently. They're kind of my thing, but I appreciated the sentiment.

I fiddled with the settings on my weapon. The next time I pressed the trigger a small four-inch beam of solid blue light erupted from the barrel. I grabbed the manacles around her wrist. "Hold still," I ordered. The plasma blade cut through the steel like a hot knife slicing through jellied Melomonkey brains. Damn, my stomach growled and I smiled sheepishly. From the gaunt look of her she was probably way hungrier than me.

I had to give her credit. As soon as she was free, the young woman didn't run. She grabbed the Floturan child behind her and held her manacled wrists in the air.
Good girl.

The child’s eyes were rapidly blinking, while her lips and chin trembled as if she was going into shock. The young woman held the child’s shaking hands steady and we made quick work of the bindings. I slashed through the chain that connected to her throat. They could get the rest removed on the ship.

"There you go. Run back that way, you'll see two more who look just like me. Don't worry they're not really Daunietes either. They'll help get you off the station."

With the child enfolded in her arms, the young Terran shot me a suspicious look. "Why are you helping me?" she whispered, her voice raspy and trembling.

"I am a Protectorate Captain, that’s what I do. Now go!” The words blurted out of my mouth. Protocol wasn't going out the window, it was so far gone it couldn’t even see the window anymore. The window was a speck to protocol now. I was infinitely glad Jaxx wasn’t around to call me on it.

She raised a curious eyebrow and cocked her head, her arms crossed protectively around the sobbing Floturan child.

“It’s a holographic disguise, I’m Terran like you,” a reassuring smile crossed my face, a smile which I realized she couldn’t see. So I stuck a finger through my holographic eye. That got her attention.

Lips pursed, she nodded and blinked her understanding. She spun on her heels, pulling the child along with her and they both shuffled hastily in the direction I hoped Jaxx and Ensign Chandles were waiting. I watched them escape even as the next captive held her wrist up to me.

Two nearby ear splitting explosions rained debris on us, billowing smoke into the air and sending guards, prisoners and bystanders alike to the ground racked with coughing fits. I needed to shoot something, but skeck this gun was a pain in my ass. Finally recalibrated, I fired back at the several guards exiting elevators from my 2 o'clock, a vulnerability my scouting team had failed to mention. I ducked back behind tall, gray and scaly using his massive unconscious body as a shield.

A savage roar tore through the air and dwarfed the sound of all the explosions around me. It looked like the big golden boy had woken up, and wasn't nearly as helpless as he first appeared. His large, muscular arms tore through his own chains like they were paper. His luscious lips curled in a ferocious snarl, revealing large, white canines sending shivers down my spine. Green sparks illuminated his hazel, predatory eyes, igniting something primal inside me.

An energy beam sizzled the air about an inch from my nose, shocking me out of my reverie. By the way, I knew this energy beam. A very unique energy beam, with a unique energy signature.
Novokin? This far out? Impossible.

A second energy blast that ricocheted off of the armor of the groaning reptile I was hiding behind said otherwise. I aimed at another energy conduit.

BOOM!

This one must've been a larger junction, as the blast vaporized the two Novokin guards that were firing on me and part of the floor where they had been standing.
Bye-bye.

More fires erupted on the Promenade from damaged and discarded weapons. Taking advantage of the smoke and blinking away stinging tears, I lifted my head to peek out over my gray, still breathing wall. Something was moving through the smoke. A lot of somethings actually. I tried to contact my ship, but the blue electrical fire blazing from the exposed energy conduits overhead told me why I wasn't getting through.

After the smoke dissipated, my heart sank to the floor. I was face-to-face with a double row of Novokin Imperial guards, standing between me and my ship. Plasma rifles at the ready and sticks embedded firmly in their butts, I wasn't getting out of this today. Not alive anyway. Well, if I was going down I was damn sure going to take as many of them as I could before they noticed my crew mates and-.

Son of a skeck hound!

Golden boy howled in wild rage as he tore through the line of Alliance guards. I don't think any of the shots, punches or kicks even slowed his stampede.
Good for him. Wait. Why was his stampede headed right for me? Oh Skeck, what did I do to piss him off? Maybe he doesn't like Daunietes, but then again who does?

I raised my weapon in two-handed grip and aimed for center mass of his big rippling chest. Yummy... But he must've gone insane because he continued his charge right at me. I stood up to make sure he could see the gun I was holding. He didn’t seem to be fazed at all. Not only didn’t he stop but he seemed to increase his speed.

Such a waste, I thought as I kept my gun firmly aimed at his golden chest. "Sorry beautiful, but I'm not getting caught just because you decided to wake up.” I fired.

I fired again.

I fired two more times. Nothing ruffled this alien's feathers...err furs. What the heck was he? Movement above me and to the left drew my attention from the hulking, golden mass of pure muscle and fury on a collision course with yours truly.

A Novokin guard had me in his rifle sights. My own gun rendered useless for the next few seconds, having gone into cooling mode.
Cheap Atiuerian junk!
I guess I had a good run, and one way to die is as good as the next. At least my crew would be safe. I brought my arm to my chest and pressed my com link. I had to say good bye to my crew, to my friends. I closed my eyes waiting for Jaxx’s calm or...hysterical voice. Couldn’t tell which I would get these days. Hopefully, before...   

BANG! Whooooosh!