Page 17 of Torn from the Alien Commander

Thalaxia laughs and claps her hands in excitement. “You like it! Suppose it’s only natural, considering it’s a human delicacy after all.”

Even though the hot yellow running stuff scorches my mouth, I keep stuffing my face, my stomach grumbling in appreciation. Thalaxia covers her light blue face in shock, turning away in disgust while mumbling, “Barbarian manners.”

Her disdain means nothing to me, not after everything I’ve been through, not after everything they’ve taken from me. “You know about Earth and humans?” I mutter between bites, curious but not expecting her to reveal much.

“Must you speak with your mouth full?” Thalaxia asks, a shudder running through her. “I suppose it’s to be expected from a primitive species.” She turns to face me with a soft sigh.

“Yes, we’re vaguely familiar with your kind. Although I’ve never encountered one before, we have some old records.” Her eyes narrow slightly as she continues, “Your people were deemed too... backward for direct contact.”

I let her insults wash over me, driven by curiosity about my home planet. “What about the bean juice gods and the furry varmints overlords?” I inquire, wrapping my mouth around some of the drooping, delicious yellow food.

Thalaxia grimaces. “What bloody nonsense are you on about? Are you testing my knowledge?” she asks with a suspicious glare.

Voiding Xandor, he made the whole thing up!

My face heats a little from embarrassment, but I lean into her assertion. “Yeah, I thought I’d ask you the silly questions today,” I mock.

“Is that right?” Thalaxia snaps back with a surprising smile. “There are no more questions. At least for now.” She approaches me, and hope sends my heart racing. “I’m releasing you, but you are to remain close until a full investigation is complete.”

Her words are sweeter than the delicious pizza I’ve just finished. “Releasing me?” I repeat in surprise. Then mild panic ensues, thinking about being lost and alone on such a strange, unknown planet.

“Yes, unless you’d rather stay?” Thalaxia jests as she reaches up and unclasps the horrible collar from my neck. I relax, massaging the chafed skin, feeling the weight of my oppression lifting.

“Th... thank you,” I stammer, the words tinged with genuine joy. “What about the others, my friends?” I ask, hoping together we can all figure this place out.

Thalaxia’s smile drops, “The Klendathians must stay; it’s far too dangerous—”

“But they came in peace! They saved us—” I interrupt her, eager to change her mind.

“We are at war!” Thalaxia roars, causing me to recoil. “My civilization hangs in the balance, threatened with extinction. Only a system away, the Scythians and Klendathians scour our core worlds in endless death.” She spits, jabbing a stubby finger at my chest. “You should thank the stars that my department found you and didn’t blast your escape pod into space dust.”

I avert my gaze, unable to withstand her outraged tirade, unable to relate to such loss. It’s almost enough for me to apologies, to say I’m sorry, but then I remember—they killed Xandor. The thought hardens my heart, and I flick my eyes tohers. “And the non-Klendathians? What about them?” I ask, my tone sharp as a blade.

Thalaxia releases a long breath as she smooths out her armored uniform. “They’ll be released soon, but you are to be housed separately until this matter can be closed,” she announces, turning to leave the cell. “Follow me,” she commands, leaving no time to process her words.

The bars slide open at her approach. Again, I marvel at the impressive technology that seems to react to her thoughts. We march down a black metal corridor with many cells aligned on either side. I glance at each one, hoping to spot one of the crew, but they are all empty.

It seems Thalaxia is very keen to keep us all separated.

Each step causes me to wince from the numerous aches, and I rub my arm, attempting to dissipate the throbbing pain.Why am I so voiding sore?I frown, turning my arm over, seeing no trace of bruises or injury.

“We’ll retrieve your goods, then I’ll take you to your temporary accommodation. It’s only a short distance from here,” Thalaxia declares, gesturing over her shoulder as I struggle to keep up with her pace despite her short legs.

“Is there a healer nearby?” I ask, worried there might be something wrong with me, something unseen.

Thalaxia scoffs, glancing over her shoulder. “Nothing wrong with you, lass, other than a few knocks.”

I frown, assuming she must have scanned me or is scanning me. But her words offer no comfort as I feel battered like an old plate of arcweave.

We arrive at the exit, obvious given the large oval opening, flanked by two Nebians dressed in the same sleek segmented armor Thalaxia wears, only lacking her red cloak, and feathered plume on her helmet. They both bow and offer, “Curator.” At her approach.

“At ease,” she replies at the pair, before turning to face me. “Your belongings will be here soon.” She frowns, her gaze tracing the floor. “Where are the bloody drones?” she mutters, tapping her foot.

At her words, a section of the floor slides open to reveal the same tiny floating drones that took my items. They each emit a black beam, carrying my pistols, knives, and wrist console. The sight of my disguised Nebian laser pistol causes my blood to freeze, and I resist the urge to yank it in case Thalaxia notices.

If she finds it, I’ll be locked up forever—or worse!

Chapter 6

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