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The entire scenario was so… alien—no pun intended—to me I didn't know what to do. I didn't cry out this time. I think I used up all my bravado when I yelled at the alien to leave the kid alone. Never had I witnessed suchviolence before, other than in a movie. It reminded me of the gang members when they shot the man down in front of my office.
What stunned and scared me the most though was that I didn't sense any animosity from the aliens toward the pile of unconscious humans they were kicking, they didn't emanate an ounce of hate, only cold determination to do their job. We, the humans, didn't mean anything to them; we were herded and kicked into submission, like cattle.
One of the aliens pushed me forward and I lost sight of the unconscious bundle of bodies. I could only hope they would be okay.
We were herded into a large elevator, which instead of going up or down, moved forward, jerking me so hard, I was barely able to keep my balance. But before I could even catch my breath, the walls in front of me parted and I realized the elevator had left wherever we had landed, and we were now in space. The cab moved up rapidly, while around me short screams and exclamations rang out.
Like most people I had always wondered what it would feel like to be in space, aboard a ship or space station, but none of my imaginings had been able to conjure up being held prisoner by aliens and moving around a ginormous spaceship inside an elevator-like cab.
Before I was able to fully comprehend what was happening, the elevator, for lack of a better word, moved sideways again, clinging to the spaceship's hull as we moved around it, and then proceeded to take a steep dive down. More screams rang out from my fellow captives, but as some were hit over the head in the same manner as I had been before, I managed to suppress my scream.
We reentered the spaceship, which by what little I had seen was probably as high as a skyscraper and as wide as several football fields combined.
I swallowed when I saw similar groups as mine being prodded forward, one by one they were marched into what reminded me of an old-fashioned phone booth, where they were doused from head to toe.
My mind went numb when it was my turn and I was shoved into a booth. The doors closed and a strong spray of water that smelled of ammonia hit me, stinging my eyes and cuts and bruises.
The procedure only took half a minute before the stall opened on the other side and I hesitantly stepped out. As uncomfortable as a wet cat, I carefully set one foot in front of the other, not wanting to slip on the floor until I realized it was grated.
Following the others, I walked into a large area that could only be described as a stable. My heartsank when my eyes fell on a multitude of partitions, each about thirty by thirty feet, and filled with a dozen or more humans of all races, ages, genders and shapes. My earlier thoughts of the aliens harvestinguscame back to me with a vengeance.
Eachstallwas surrounded by what looked like plexiglass. Some people stood, pressing the palms of their hands against the barriers, staring at us with desperation, and I wondered if they were looking for a familiar face. Probably hoping and dreading it simultaneously. Others were huddled in corners or stared at us blankly.
I also noticed, and here I gulped, troughs attached to the inside of the stalls. Several of them, some filled with water, others with some kind of slop. I caught a woman bent over one of the troughs, her head stuck to the fluid, lapping it up like a dog and asked myself how hungry and thirsty I would have to get to do the same.
About a third of the way down, my entire group was pushed into one of the stalls, so hard, I stumbled over to the other side where I barely caught my balance against the wall, before I slowly allowed myself to sit down, leaning against it with my legs angled underneath me. My head sank against the wall and I closed my eyes while hot tears ran down my cheeks.
TheVyperapproached Colynth, the Cryons' main planet and the primary source of everything that was evil in the universe.
A shudder rippled underneath my skin at the thought of having to spend time with King Crough. But it couldn't be helped.
As a lord protector to the Pandraxian Empire, my duties included ensuring that all previously made trade agreements were upheld, in addition to forging new ones.
The Pandraxian Empire was large and prosperous and its ever-hungry citizens demanded a constant supply of the products they had grown accustomed to, as well as new and exotic ones.
Unfortunately, as evil as the Cryons were, or maybe because of it, they were the universe's most accomplished traders and the main providers of exotic products to the Pandraxian Empire. They needed to be courted and shmoozed like the expensive whores they were. Regrettably for me, it was my turn to visit them. Every galactic year one of us, as lord protectors, was forced to make the trip.
I wouldn't have to be here, had Zahryan played fair for once and not beaten me in a game of cards, after goading me enough to risk taking his turn to visit Colynth. Darkly I stared at the orange planet as it came into view, cursing Zahryan and his cheating ways and I swore I would get him back.
Zahryan was another lord protector like me, but also a male I had always called a brother. Until that ill-fated card game. I grinned despite myself, nocc—no—Zahryan and I would always be brothers, no matter how mischievously the black-hearted bastard behaved.
"The ferry is ready for you, Lord Protector," my second-in-command, Ryggs, announced.
I sighed, no matter my misgivings, the empire came first, always. I had sworn an oath to EmperorDaryus and I would uphold it.
Besides being the lord protector of Astrionis as well as several colonies and outposts on other planets, the other protectors and I rotated duties like this. Even though I despised this part of my job, it needed to be done with as much vigilance as I bestowed on any of my other duties.
I checked my attire, which consisted of black leather pants, black boots, and a cape made of the fur of a black vorathrax, the empire's most ruthless predator, which I slew with my bare hands as a youth—the first task of a youngling on his way to become a lord protector. I wore the scars the vorathrax gave me with as much pride as the cape itself.
A dagger forged from the finest bryx metal and carved to announce my status hung against my right hip, whereas the massive sword made from the same metal hung on my left. I comforted myself with the thought that I at least wouldn't have to wear a blaster. I hated the impersonal killing device as much as the uniform that usually came with it. If and when I was forced to dispatch a foe into the netherworld, I preferred to do so in an honest fight, looking my opponent into the eyes while I drove my blade home.
My boots pounded theVyper'smetallic floor, the sound multiplied by the stomping feet of my guards.
Ididn't need guards, I was a lord protector. Anybody stupid enough to attack me would find his end by my hands and if, gods forbid, I was the one to fall, then I had nobody else to blame but myself.
Unfortunately, Daryus had declared every lord protector to be accompanied by forty guards at all times when visiting a planet not controlled by our empire, after an unfortunate incident with one lord protector whose name shall be cursed and forgotten for all eternity.
Even though we conducted business with the Cryons, they were, thankfully, not part of the Pandraxian Empire. I would rather put up with the forty guards than having to call the Cryons brothers as being part of our empire.
