Enslaved by the Alien Dragon Read online

  “As you say, Commander.”

  I walked out of the control center, which opened out into an open forum that led into the body of the ship. It was a minimalistic space that boasted thin white columns that were free of embellishment. It was also oval in shape and led off into separate passageways from which you could access other parts of the ship. I took the seventh passage to the right and headed down the wide corridor that I had reinforced with Pilak steel. It was a ribbed metal, which naturally air-conditioned any space that was predisposed to heat.

  At the end of the passageway there was a left turn that would take me to the weapons unit, a right turn that would take me to the supplies unit and an elevator that would take me down to the kitchens, the scullery and the slave quarters. I walked inside and the elevator went down smoothly.

  The Wyvern’s basement was nothing like the one on Dashel’s ship. The walls were made of burnt brown Samite stone and I had made sure it was well lit at all times. It may have been referred to as the basement, but I didn’t want it to feel like one. As I approached the entrance to the kitchens, I heard her voice rise in indignant anger.

  I pressed the entry button on the side of the sliding door and walked into the kitchen in time to see the Vence cook I had purchased four years ago face off against the girl. The Vence was twice her size and height, but she seemed oblivious to her disadvantage.

  “I don’t understand why I can’t just have the ingredients I need,” she demanded.

  “I don’t take orders from a human.”

  “It’s not an order,” the girl insisted. “It’s only a request.”

  “Then I am free to deny it.”

  “Enough!” I said, without raising my voice.

  The girl and the Vence turned to me in unison and immediately the Vence shrunk back, his six legs seemed to fold inwards as though to make himself look smaller.

  “Commander,” he said, bowing his head.

  “The human is acting under my orders,” I said firmly. “You will give her whatever ingredients she requires. Is that understood?”

  I could see the biting anger on the Vence’s purple bruised face. Its three yellow eyes looked at me with muted resentment.

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “Good… then I expect to hear no more arguments from either of you.”

  The Vence bowed his head again. “I will send up your supper at the designated time, Commander.”

  “Send it through the girl,” I said. “Make sure she knows the way to my quarters. I don’t want my food arriving late.”

  I could hear the irritated prick of the Vence’s pincers, but I ignored it. He would be careful around the girl now. I didn’t like the idea of showing her preferential treatment but favoring her might keep her safe against the other slaves. There was no denying she was the weakest slave aboard the Wyvern and even among the lowest of the low, there was always a hierarchy.

  I turned and left the kitchens, aware that the girl’s eyes were following me out. I went straight to my quarters on the first floor where all the other commanders were housed as well. My chamber was modest compared to some of the other commander’s quarters I had seen. I preferred the simplicity of modesty in my lifestyle. I had a large bed staged in the center of the space and shelves of books rung up on three of the six walls that made my room.

  Books were not usually a favorite pastime among my kind, but I had developed an affinity for them ever since we had pillaged a huge library in the temples of the Udey-Sitka in Gurnessy. The remaining walls had been decorated with the trinkets of my early conquests. I had a ribbed bow and arrow from the Uvet Tribe of Alagor. I owned a Casmerian Steel sword from the Mireck people of Sanatol. I possessed a doubled edged war hammer from the Brexa warriors of Castallon.

  I walked over to the fireplace I had commissioned especially for my room. Obviously, I had no need of one with the ship’s updated heating system, but it was one of the few indulgences I allowed myself. I liked the heat and light of a live fire. I loved the dancing embers and the hissing coals that spat out temperamentally as the wood burned.

  I bent down and kindled a fire with my own breath. I settled in front of it to go over the rest of my crew files. I lost myself in the pleasure of organization, but every now and again I kept seeing her seductive brown eyes, dark and heavy but spotted with subtle pinpricks of light.

  A sharp rap on my door forced me to close my files and put them away before approaching my door and pressing my thumb to the identification pad to allow the knocker entry.

  She was standing on the other side, behind a large ornate trolley that had been gifted to me by Lehar when I’d first been given command of the Wyvern. The carvings on the side of the trolley were native to Ermit culture but the handlebars were reminiscent of Coovooan heritage. It was most likely one of the odd hybrid creations that came out of the market planets along the axis.

  “Come,” I said, trying to mask my pleasure at seeing her.

  I could smell the strong scent of charred meat as she walked past me, pushing the trolley. I spotted platters of sweet fruit and I could pick out the floral scent of strong wine underneath the earthy char of the spiced meat I favored. I realized belatedly that there was also a fresh plate of cookies sitting next to the wine. These cookies looked different from the previous batch. They were fatter in the middle and contained long stripes of dark chocolate.

  She settled the trolley next to the fire without having to be told and then turned to me with nervous expectation.

  “You made them already?” I asked, eyeing the cookies hungrily.

  “It’s not so hard once you have all the ingredients,” she replied. “Gormit was very helpful after you left.”

  “Gormit?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You know… your cook.”

  “Oh,” I nodded. “Him.”

  “You don’t know his name?”

  “He’s a slave,” I replied. “I don’t have to know his name.”

  Her face dropped and I instantly regretted my words. She made her way to the door, but I found my mouth forming her name, desperate to keep her in my presence for just a little while longer. I hated this helpless feeling but there was no denying it; I couldn’t abide the thought of watching her walk out of my chambers.

  “Wait,” I called.

  She turned impassively. “Is there something wrong?”

  “I—” I froze. What could I say to keep her here? “Have you eaten?”

  “What?” she asked, nonplussed.

  My chest tightened with a strange twisting feeling that I couldn’t quite get comfortable with. Was this what it felt to be nervous? It was intolerable.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked again.

  She stared at me with an expression that suggested she thought I was joking. Then she shook her head no.

  “There’s too much food here for me,” I said, even though that wasn’t quite the truth. “You might as well take what you want.”

  She looked confused for a moment. “Are you asking me to join you for dinner?” she asked.

  I would have preferred if she hadn’t put it that way. It implied something that I wasn’t ready to face just yet. “I just don’t want this food to go to waste,” I said.

  One corner of her mouth turned up, but she stopped herself from smiling. She walked towards me slowly and looked down at the full trolley.

  “I suppose I could eat a little,” she nodded.

  “Sit down,” I said, gesturing to the empty chair by the fireplace.

  She pulled it to the trolley and sat down across from me. When was the last time I had supped with a female?

  I served myself first because I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. “Take whatever you want,” I said gruffly when my own plate was full.

  She took modest portions of the meat and the thick crusty bread that had been specially prepared for me. She settled the plate on her lap as she ate, taking small, delicate bites that made me wonder how much she actually tasted.
/>   “Have you eaten Crowin meat before?” I asked.

  “Uh no, not really,” she admitted. “I’ve never even heard of Crowin before.”

  “It’s a bird that’s native to Minapolis… big, feathered and bald headed. Tastes like Moon Elk.”

  “I haven’t really tried Moon Elk either,” she said.

  “How do you like it?” I asked, as she took another bite of her meal.

  “It’s… strange,” she said. “I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s probably an acquired taste.”

  “It tastes better with the wine,” I said, pouring her a glass.

  She eyed the goblet I passed her and then glanced at me. “I don’t think I’ve drunk wine in years… not since I was—”

  She stopped short but I knew what she had been about to say. Not since I was a free woman.

  “It’s funny… sometimes I actually forget what Earth was like,” she said. “Can you believe that? I forget my own home. Sometimes a year out here feels like a decade on Earth.”

  “What was it like?” I heard myself ask.

  “It was… a mess,” she admitted. “Filled with wars and natural disasters and global warming. But for all that… it was home. I had a place there. I was someone important.”

  “Were you?” I asked, picking out the little slip.

  She looked up and colored visibly. “It’s not important anymore,” she said, grabbing the goblet and taking a big swig of the wine. Her face scrunched up and her nose wrinkled. “Wow… that’s strong.”

  I smiled. “It is strong wine. It has to be.”

  “Right,” she nodded, before taking another sip. “It’s good.”

  “Another acquired taste?”

  “Not really. The second sip goes down a lot easier.”

  She meant to set her goblet down, but her hand slipped and the wine spilled out onto the trolley’s surface. She jumped up immediately. “Oh no! I’m so sorry…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s just the table. You didn’t get any wine on the food.”

  “Still… this is such a mess.”

  She was trying to clear it up when I reached out without thinking and grabbed her hand. “It’s ok,” I said. “Leave it.”

  She froze, her eyes darted down to my hand, wrapped around the tiny circumference of her wrist, and I thought I felt a shiver roll through her body. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. I expected her to pull away or at least cringe back, but she did neither. Instead she lifted her other hand and placed it on my chest as though she were searching for something.

  I said nothing. Instead I just sat there and waited. Slowly, her hand moved up my arm towards my neck. Her fingers lingered there only a moment before she cupped the side of my face with her palm. I saw her lips part, and I realized I was waiting desperately for her to speak.

  But before she could say anything, a resounding crash screamed through the air and the whole spaceship jerked as though it had been thrown off course. I lurched forward and I heard the girl gasp as she was thrown back. I reached out and managed to grab her hand just before she hit the floor.

  I pulled her upright, but my eyes darted to the space windows that allowed me an unvarnished view of our position. I could see black diamond rock like debris cascading past us like throwing stars. I moved towards the windows and I felt her tail behind me.

  “What is that?” the girl gasped from my side.

  The pelting specks of shimmering black stone glided past us with speed. It was easy to miss and hard to distinguish, but I had been privy to a collision before and I knew from experience the deadly ruthlessness with which it could take down a spaceship no matter the size or the power.

  “A black asteroid,” I said darkly.

  At that exact moment the ship’s internal siren went off, confirming that the hit we had taken had caused detrimental damage to some part of the ship. My ears pricked up as I picked up the distant sound of chaos breaking.

  11

  Yvette

  For a long time, I couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in my ears. My body felt like it was in a state of numbing shock. I wasn’t even aware that Ranel had his arms around me, but I quickly realized that was the only reason I was still standing.

  When he did release me to move towards his windows, I felt unmoored, as though I couldn’t stand there on my own. It took me a while to remind myself that I was not on Earth. We were cruising somewhere in the vast galaxy and this explosion had nothing to do with me. My hand went up to the three-leaf clover on my cheek, wondering if I was responsible for this.

  I heard a distant noise that sounded like a crash. It was as though something was splitting apart. My eyes tried to focus on the strange black shards catapulting outside the windows in front of us, but my attention was caught by the sudden alarm that screamed through the ship.

  “We’ve been hit,” Ranel said under his breath.

  I felt my breath grow shorter and heavier. We’ve been hit? Why did those words sing of déjà vu? Someone had said the same thing to me a lifetime ago. I started to feel dizzy again and every time I blinked I kept seeing his face.

  Zellin.

  He was a large Pax with jagged white fur and protruding teeth that distinguished his species. He had beady red eyes that gleamed with sadistic delight and his sneer was an eternal smile that had haunted my nightmares for years during my time in Servos.

  He was wrong, you are not an ill omen, I tried to tell myself. This is just a coincidence. I tried to push those red eyes out of my head as I put one foot in front of the other and joined Ranel at his windows.

  Space could be an intoxicating thing. There was beauty even in the infinite blackness where colors went to die, but that was precisely what made it terrifying. It reminded you of how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things. I saw large shooting masses of gleaming rock hurl past us like a massive space hailstorm that looked like black ice.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “We’ve been hit by what? We’re being attacked?”

  Ranel looked towards me with mild confusion. “We’ve been hit by a black asteroid.”

  Before I could ask anything else, something else hit the ship. I slammed into the windows and I was about to land on the floor when Ranel caught me again. He pulled me close to his body so that my face was pressed up against his chest. I heard sirens go off through the ship and a moment later a gush of panic and commotion sailed to meet us.

  Ranel’s face was filled with a steely concentration that managed to reassure me. His arm was wrapped tight around my body and I found myself leaning in closer, comforted by his presence. He felt like the only stable thing I could hold on to.

  “Stay close to me,” he said as he pulled me towards the door.

  “What do you think that was?” I asked, my voice shaking uncontrollably despite my resolve to maintain some level of composure. “Another asteroid?”

  “Most likely,” he replied. “Those things are fucking ruthless, but I don’t think we were in its direct path.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How can we not be?” I asked. “That was a huge crash.”

  “If we’d been in its direct path we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now,” he said darkly. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere safe,” he said distractedly as he pulled me out of the room.

  The ship was in a state of upheaval. There were a series of tiny red lights that dotted the sides of each ceiling, alerting every creature on the ship of danger. I saw several crewmembers running through the wide passageways and open halls trying to determine the point of impact and the amount of damage it had caused. I recognized the young Drakon who had been with Ranel at the slave market.

  “Deveron,” Ranel said as he walked up to us. “How bad is it?”

  “The storage deck at the back of the ship,” he replied, panting hard, his sentences coming out in bursts. “I think we lost some supplies.”

  �
��What about Drakons?” Ranel asked. “Or slaves?”

  “Not that we know of,” Deveron replied. “We’re still assessing.”

  Despite the pandemonium raging around us, I saw Deveron glance down to Ranel’s hand, which was still locked around my wrist. Ranel didn’t seem to notice though. I doubt he even realized he was still holding on to me. His eyes were tense, but I could tell he was trying to assess his plan of action without allowing agitation to cloud his judgment.

  “Where are Gormson and Bletchgor?” Ranel asked.

  “Control room,” Deveron said immediately.

  “Good,” Ranel nodded. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  The younger Drakon shot me a glance. “You’re not coming now?” Deveron asked incredulously.

  “I’ll only be a few microns,” Ranel snapped as he pulled me along the ship’s main dome and towards the passageways that led to the kitchens.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, wondering where he was taking me when his crew needed him.

  “The basement is the safest place for you right now,” he said. “Stay there until I send for you. Understood?”

  I didn’t nod because he was moving too fast and I was trying to concentrate on not tripping. I felt a nauseous sense of déjà vu as I heard someone screaming about sealing off the blast site to stop asteroid debris puncturing through the main chambers of the ship.

  My dark memories stirred, and I wondered how I was going to fend them off once Ranel had left me. I could see the calculating worry etched into the hard lines of his face, but it was more than that. I knew how he felt. I had been in his position once. I had been a commander in my own right and when that command mattered most I had failed.

  I felt guilt knot in my stomach like a steel hug and I wanted to throw up. He wasn’t allowing me any time to breathe, however. I stumbled several times as he pulled me along, but his body always served as the support I needed to keep me on my feet. When we approached the service elevators, I saw a light blinking on the side. It didn’t normally do that and I wondered if the elevators were functioning normally.