Page 28 of Captured
Rakir motions for me to crawl back from the ledge. He doesn’t wait for me to obey, crawling back with a speed and grace I can never hope for. Still, I obey and slowly crawl back.
Then a terrible growl makes me jump to my feet.
Rakir stands there, his arms wide, his fingers ending in long, deadly talons.
In front of him stands one of the soldiers. The barrel of a high-powered phaser is pointed straight at Rakir, black and deadly. The soldier’s face is hard and weathered, lines deep in his tight skin. He’s wearing the same combat uniform as the others, but I can see the small black star pinned to his chest. I stare at it, my mind a momentary blank.
The Black Star. I know this symbol. Then I remember and all heat deserts my body.
Mercenaries. No, not only mercenaries, but the worst kind there is. Those are the soldiers large corporations call when they need to “restore peace” on one of the new planets they want to mine. Or when the local alien population begins to realize the Human Alliance isn’t what it seemed at first and wants to back out of the deal.
They’re the men politicians and trillionaires call when they need to wash the blood from their hands. Monsters. These soldiers are monsters.
My gaze wanders to Rakir, whose black scales shine under the sunlight. Those scales are the hardest, strongest material I’ve ever seen.
But are they stronger than phasers?
Rakir moves in front of me, shielding me as well as he can from the soldier.
“Don’t move your scaly butt, Drakian.” The soldier speaks in the telltale tone of someone who’s ready to pull the trigger. Who might even enjoy it. “Both of you.”
I can’t see his eyes behind the reflective sunglasses, but his mouth is hard and merciless. His uniform bears absolutely no markings except the Black Star. Not even a name.
“Captain Henrick, I got them,” he speaks into the side of his collar and into some form of invisible transmitter. “Yes, the girl and the Drakian.”
He doesn’t say it, but it’s clear he will shoot to kill if we try anything. There’s no need for Rakir and me to talk about it, I can see in the way his eyes dart to me every few seconds that Rakir knows this as well. We wait in silence and I’m so nervous I think I’m going to snap like a brittle stick.
A few minutes later, a half dozen of them walk out of the brush, phasers at the ready, pointed toward Rakir and me. Mostly toward Rakir. I’m clearly no threat compared to him.
It’s easy to identify the leader. He walks with his back straight one pace in front of the others, his gaze unshielded by sunglasses. I wish he did wear some though. His eyes are cold, emotionless.
The eyes of a man ready to kill and who won’t feel even the slightest bit of guilt about it.
As he stands a good twenty feet away from Rakir and me, I notice his rank, embroidered on his chest just below the Black Star. I was right, it’s Captain Henrick.
“What are you doing here?” I speak loud enough for all to hear and much to my surprise, my voice is strong and even. “How’d you even find my pod?”
Captain Henrick lifts his lips in a paternal smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t be silly. We’re here to rescue you, sweetheart.” But the corner of his mouth twitches. He’s lying. “From him.” He points his chin to Rakir, but his eyes don’t leave me.
“Don’t bullshit me. I saw you blast my pod with the photon blast bomb,” I counter and this time, my voice isn’t nearly as steady. “I never even sent a distress signal. You had a bug planted on my pod all along. Just tell me why.”
Captain Henrick stands back on his heels and his lips curl in a cruel grin. “You’re a smart little thing, I’ll give you that. Too bad we have to clean this mess with no witnesses.” Captain Henrick’s eyes slide down my body in such an obvious, crude way that it makes my jaw clench and my ears hum with the sound of blood. “Such a waste.”
Then those eyes slide to Rakir and they become full of wrath and disgust. Hatred. They will relish killing him.
Another soldier steps forward, his face twisted in a crude grin. “She was with him, Captain.” He moves the barrel of his phaser from me to Rakir. “She’s not wearing her uniform anymore.”
“Maybe she’s soft on him,” another soldier says. “Maybe she likes him, even.”
The soldiers chuckle, but it’s a sound without humor. It’s an ugly, hateful sound. The sound of atrocities to come.
“Maybe she needs to spend some time with a real man - a human one,” the same soldier says. “Then she won’t like the Drakian so much.”
The men don’t chuckle this time. I can’t see their eyes, but their mouths harden and there’s a sick kind of tension in the air.
“Stay where you are.” I speak loud and clear, my voice even and strong. I have no idea how.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Captain Henrick says. “Just tell us where the Drakian ship is and we’ll take care of you.”
