Page 25 of Kidnapped By the Alien Chieftain

Just as I am about to turn my attention elsewhere, a loud crash echoes beside me. To my shock, I see Xandor thrown heavily into a nearby shack. He slowly stumbles to his feet, blood leaking from his mouth.

“Kicks like a boracks,” he mumbles, dazed and disoriented. Despite the surrounding chaos, I can’t help but chuckle at his comment.

My eyes dart to the spot where Xandor was thrown from, and I see the hulking Tuskarian staring at me with a raw, burning hatred. He is panting heavily, and I see claw marks etched between the heavy joints of his armor. His clothes are blood soaked as puffs of vapor escape his snout nose with each rapid breath, making him look like a great wild beast ready to pounce at any moment. This will be a fight to the death, and I’m relieved Pebbles is on the ship, away from this bloody carnage.

I launch myself towards the Tuskarian with blinding speed. But to my surprise, he raises his great ax above his head and throws it towards me with all his might. The weapon spins towards me like a deadly whirlwind, and I have only a split second to react. I somehow dodge to the side, narrowly avoiding being skewered by its serrated edge.

The Tuskarian takes advantage of my momentary loss of balance and charges forward, delivering a powerful double chop with his massive hands. Anticipating his attack, I catch his hands with my own. Our fingers become entwined, and we lock eyes in a fierce battle of strength.

I feel the strain of his immense strength against mine, but I refuse to give in. My muscles bulge as I push back against him.

My body hums with primal energy. I can feel the familiar surge of adrenaline building within me.I will not fall here. Pebbles needs me!My eyes glow brighter, releasing more purple mist as the Rush builds inside me, reaching greater heights than ever before. His muscles protrude in great hunks of brutal strength in protest, but I am stronger. As his fingers bend backwards, he collapses to one knee in agony. “No! This is impossible!” he roars in defiance, desperate to summon any remaining strength. But it’s all in vain. With a last surge of power, I snap his fingers into unnatural angles, causing him to cry out in pain. Even as he struggles to stand, I know victory is mine.

With a deep breath, I utter the words which will seal the Tuskarian’s fate. “Die with honor, strong one,” I say, my voice low and intense. My claws are crimson in the murky light, ready to deliver the final blow.

With his last breath, the Tuskarian summons all the defiance he can muster. “Void you, Klendathian,” he spits out, his last words dripping with venom.

With a swift motion, I bring down my claws, piercing his side where there is no armor to protect him. The Tuskarian lets out a last gasp, and his body stills.I vow the Scythians will pay for what they’ve driven my people to become.

With a final nod of respect, I turn away from the Tuskarian’s lifeless body, my heart racing as I try to catch my breath. I survey the surrounding carnage, taking in the devastation wrought by our fierce battle.

The Orison gang have either fallen to our claws or fled for their lives, leaving behind a trail of blood and broken bodies. I know that this is the price of survival in this Gods forsaken station.

My eyes meet Xandor’s, and I see the disbelief and awe in his expression. He clutches his hand over his injured ribs, his body still shaking with the intensity of the fight.

As we catch our breath and take stock of our surroundings, I hear a soft, sickening smacking sound coming from behind me. Turning, I see both Logarn and Traxios still hacking away at the fallen bodies of our enemies, their claws dripping with blood and gore.

The sheer madness consumes my mind. “Stop!” I cry out, feeling the weight of dishonor bearing down upon us. With all my might, I grab Logarn and Traxios by the shoulders and pull them back. Logarn, his brown eyes ablaze with the fiery glow of Rush, lashes out at me with his sharp claws, but I manage to catch him by the wrist before he can strike me. “Enough, you two!” I bellow, my voice echoing through the blood-soaked battlefield.

The two young warriors stand before me, their bodies covered in a thick layer of gore which oozes from their claws like some grotesque nightmare made flesh. They grin at me maniacally for a moment, and I brace myself for another potential attack. But then, as if waking from a trance, their eyes lose their menacing glow, and they look around at the scene with blank expressions.

“Apologies, Chieftain,” Traxios murmurs, his voice devoid of emotion despite the gravity of the situation.

“Gods, Krogoth, it’s even worse than we thought,”Xandor murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he labors over to my side.

I let out a deep sigh. “They’re little more than animals at this point,” I mutter, my heart heavy with the realization. “I’ll speak with Astraxius when we return to the ship.” My mind is already racing to find potential solutions. Casting a sidelong glance at Xandor, I assess the damage to his midsection. “How’s the ribs?” I ask, my concern palpable.

“Like a giant Tuskarian kicked them,” Xandor replies, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But the smile quicklyfades, replaced by a look of pain. “I can walk it off, though,” he adds with a determined nod. “I’ll be fine.”

With a heavy heart, I lead the way out of the narrow alleyway, leaving behind a scene of blood and carnage. Before we make our way through the rubble-strewn streets, I notice a group of disheveled scavengers picking through the remains of the dead, snatching up anything of value they find. The sight fills me with disgust and despair -this station is beyond saving.

But there is no time to dwell on such bleakness. We must press on through the darkly lit alleys, our eyes continuously scanning the shadows for any signs of danger. I know we are getting close to Javik’s place, if my memory serves me right.

As we walk, passersby take a wide berth from us, their eyes wide with fear and disgust. It is no wonder - we are four towering giants, our robes caked in rapidly drying blood. A terrifying spectacle.

At long last, we arrive at Javik’s building, one of the few structures in this hellhole of a station that isn’t a flimsy metal shack. Its imposing stone façade is adorned with a massive metal relief of the Crimson Beast emblem, a clear sign we are in the right place.

But as I approach the stone steps leading up to the entrance, I am stopped in my tracks by a pair of guards that look like they’ve just laid eyes on a Mutalisk. Their eyes bulge in terror as they take in the grisly sight of our group, and I can practically smell the stench of fear emanating from their pores.

“You… you’re the Klendathians with the Scythian battlebarge, right?” one of them stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded curtly, my patience wearing thin.

“Javik said to let you in,” the guard continues, his relief tangible. He steps aside, allowing us to pass through the thick, solid door and into the relative safety of Javik’s domain.

I march forward, my jaw set. There is no time for pleasantries - we have important business to attend to, and I am in no mood for small talk.

Inside, the guards make way as they point towards a large stone hallway, its walls lined with numerous entrenched positions bristling with heavy ballistic weapons. I feel the weight of their gaze upon us.

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