Page 1 of Captured By the Orc

CHAPTER 1

LILA

Buckle up, sunshine. My diplomatic mission is about as smooth as a space slug covered in molasses.

The ship’s cold metal thrums under my gloved fingers, a shaky lullaby as we hurtle through the vast emptiness of space. Officially, it’s a ship of peace. Unofficially, it feels more like a flimsy tin can held together by a thousand silent prayers.

“Approaching the neutral zone,” the bridge officer announces. Every word bounces off the metal walls.

Lila, emissary extraordinaire here, reporting for duty. Or rather a sacrificial lamb headed straight for the war zone.

These warlords are the reason I’m strapped into this flying deathtrap, have a unique definition of diplomacy. Their idea of a peace treaty involves a plasma cannon to the face, not a handshake.

But hey, when your planet’s on its knees, you don’t get to pick your dance partners.

“Steady,” I mutter, more to calm my own racing heart than the bridge crew. My fancy diplomatic suit feels like it’s painted on, every breath a struggle. I long for the worn comfort of my oldEarth jeans and the familiar weight of my blaster — neither of which are exactlyappropriatefor this charade.

“Anything on the scanners?” I ask, trying to sound casual. My question is met with a wall of stiff backs and even stiffer silences. The crew’s fear is a living thing, slithering up my spine and squeezing the air from my lungs.

“Nothing yet, Emissary,” replies a young lieutenant, his three eyes darting across the console with the jitters of a cornered space rodent.

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way,” I say, injecting a confidence I’m far from feeling into my tone. This ship feels like a child’s toy against the backdrop of an indifferent universe. And somewhere out there, in the dark void, are the warlords.

And I wouldn’t put it past them to send battleships to just blow us out of their territory and screw any chance my now home planet has to avoid another war.

Back when Earth was still in the galaxy, humans were too arrogant and believed aliens would cater to us. Now the only thing left is a black hole.

I’m no diplomat. I’m a fighter, always have been. But words are my weapons now, heavier than any blaster ever could be. But I got nominated by my planet and kinda feel obligated to help them out and stop the constant raids and attacks on Kylor.

“Remember, we’re here to open a dialogue,” I remind the crew, though it’s mostly to remind myself. “And preferably come back in one piece.”

“Sure,” a crew member with beads woven into his braids mutters, “and maybe pigs will fly out of the airlock.”

I shoot him a glare that’s all teeth and no smile. “Optimism, remember? We agreed on optimism.”

“Apologies, Emissary,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry in the least.

“Whatever’s the outcome,” I continue, my gaze sweeping over the crew, “we face it together. For Kylor.”

A chorus of mumbled affirmations greets me, but their eyes tell a different story—one of barely veiled terror and a healthy dose of skepticism.

“Stay sharp,” I command, the silence growing suffocating.

Just as the words leave my lips, a warning siren cuts through the air, a bloodcurdling wail.

“Shields up!” I bark, adrenaline surging through me as I grab the nearest console. The dread that’s been gnawing at my insides crystallizes into a razor-sharp focus. This is it. The moment of truth—or the last few seconds before oblivion.

“Something’s coming,” someone gasps, and I can feel it too—a shadow looming over us, as inevitable as the cold, distant stars.

“Talk about a reception committee.” I steel myself for what comes next. The space around our ship distorts, a sickening ripple across the vast canvas of stars. It’s like reality itself is hiccupping.

Then, with the grace of a falling asteroid, a massive warship bleeds through the anomaly, its jagged edges casting an ominous shadow that swallows us whole.

“Contact!” The cry is a death knell, echoing off the walls as the world around me explodes in chaos. I barely register the impact; the ship shudders and groans, throwing me into a weightless tumble. Alarms blare, red lights flashing in my face as the crew scrambles into a ballet of panic.

“Boarded! We’re being boarded!” The words are distant, drowned out by the horrible sounds of tearing metal and shattering glass. How the hell did they get through our shields?

I claw my way to my feet, grabbing onto a fractured console for support. Smoke stings my eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the sight before me.

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