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Still on a Yithian Slave Ship
Same Cell
Beating up someone in real life didn’t sound like it did in the old vids. Soft thumps and grunts snuck through Cyndi’s yelling, but when she stopped fake-kicking, Macy peeked at Quin. Macy sat up, just missing Cyndi’s swinging foot. She was in time to catch Quin’s kick to Scarface’s head. She twisted the gun from his twitching fingers with an ease that calmed Macy. This woman knows her stuff.
Quin spun and shot him in the face, the action warming Macy who clambered to her feet.
“Damn right, fish breath.” She bent over the Yithian and poked him in the chest again. “It worked.” She straightened to gawk at Quin.
“Great performance, Cyn, Mace.” Quin grinned then took a moment to study the gun in her hand. She stepped over the Yithian’s body and peeked through the door. When she faced the cell again, her eyes were narrowed in calculation. “Cyn, I’m putting you in charge of prisoner release.” She tapped the side of her head, indicating Cyndi’s interpreter. “Mace, I’m getting you a gun. I want you to shoot the shit out of these aliens. As many times as you’d like.”
“Like paintball?” Macy grinned, rubbing her hands together. Revenge is sweet, indeed.
“Give me a moment.” Quin lay down on the metal grating of the passage, took careful aim, and fired three short blasts. Macy chewed her lip, straining to hear anything. Did she get them? When no alarm sounded, she released a long breath. But when Quin jumped up, Macy stiffened, only to lunge forward when Quin disappeared into the passage. Macy glanced at Cyndi, unable to hide her worry and shock, wondering what she had to do now. She peered into the passage then beamed at Quin who was jogging toward her. The sight of slumped Yithians everywhere made her ecstatic. Excitement gripped her—an uncontrollable flame against the recent rollercoaster ride of fear.
Quin offered them each a weapon. The weight of it was like nothing Macy had held before, but so comforting. She clutched it to her chest with both arms. This is my future.
“Hold it with two hands; they’re heavy.” Quin hefted hers as if it was nothing but a bag of rice. “Now, help me drag the bodies into our cell.”
Five minutes later and Macy was sweating, breathless, and wishing she’d done more than sing and stock shelves. Shit, they were heavy. In the end, she and Cyndi had dragged them inside, then rolled them like they were tortillas. Quin shot the four of them again in the face and punched a button on the door, closing the cell. “Get to the prisoners.”
Cyndi ran down the passage, peering into the cells. She opened one door and spoke in clicks to the prisoners.
“Ask them if anyone knows this ship’s design,” Quin said.
The plan she’d mentioned, reaching the bridge and sending a distress signal, now seemed possible with the downed Yithians and the weight of the gun in Macy’s hands. She grinned and rocked on her heels, nervous energy coursing through her. They’d made it this far. She studied Quin and her chest swelled. What an amazing woman. The Etterians would consider her more than desirable. Macy glanced at her slippered feet and sagged. She lowered the gun and rested an elbow on the butt. She didn’t stand a chance next to Quin. She sucked in a sharp breath. But then again, what were the odds of meeting Etterians? If no one responded to their call for aid, she could easily imagine Quin piloting this ship to Earth.
A midnight-blue alien man stepped through the door and strode toward Quin. Hard angles marked his jawline and square chin, with V-shaped lines from forehead to nose, and lateral grooves in his cheekbones. He was humanoid for the most part, with broad shoulders and two arms, and wore a sleeveless tunic and yoga pants in beige. Sandals of some sort adorned his blue feet. Macy watched him with fascination. Unbound white hair cascaded around his face, ice eyebrows twitched above his white eyes. He was her second alien sighting, and he was gorgeous. She sure hoped he was friendly. Although, there was a certain lethal quality about him, something that transcended physicality. She snorted at her nonsense.
“That’s Illan; he’s a Durn. He says he knows the design,” Cyndi called while directing prisoners.
Macy shrugged and stood next to Cyndi as a variety of species crowded the door. Browns, greens, tentacles, and many heads, too much for Macy to process now. Cyndi answered questions in a calm tone, and the hope on their faces was recognizable yet painful to see.
I mean, Macy harumphed, it’s just the three of us women.
“Cyn, tell him there are two guards outside the door.” Before Cyndi spoke, the blue alien pressed two fingers to Quin’s forehead. When she staggered, Macy hefted her gun and aimed it at the alien. She bolted, crossing the passage to go to her friend’s aid, concern rushing through her.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Quin rubbed her temple, looking none the worse. Anger hardened her features and summoned a harsh glare. Macy expected a dead blue alien.
He mumbled something in a soothing tone, and at Quin’s gaping, Macy relaxed, but she shuffled closer. Just in case. Quin exchanged whispers with the blue alien, then she frowned with her eyes widening in awe. Macy scowled and tightened her grip on the gun. What the hell?
Whatever it was, Quin recovered from it to open the door, then they were both firing. Macy sighed, glad the blue guy was with them. She’d dreaded having to shoot any prisoners who were in the same boat they were in. Or ship, in this case. She smothered a giggle.
Quin glanced back, and so did Macy, at the released prisoners. “Move.” What happened next was almost in slow motion. Quin’s mouth contorted as she bellowed while sprinting to the back door. She was still running when she fired two more shots as soon as the back door opened. Both Yithians crumpled. Quin dove through the opened door but didn’t fire again. Shit. Macy gulped. That was kinda awesome. She hurried to help drag the bodies into an empty cell. Blasting them afterward made her cackle, despite her sweating and breathlessness. Their captors may have been big and slimy, but they were also damned heavy.
“Cyn, tell them that we have four more slave compartments. We’ll help to take out the other guards. You free the prisoners and usher them down to the escape pods.”
“I don’t know where the pods are,” Cyndi said, panic twisting her features. Another blue guy broke from the crowd to touch Cyndi’s forehead. Macy didn’t worry this time. Uncertain of what to do, she stood around trying to hold up the toy-like gun—constructed with black blocks and a yellow glowing one. She was too scared to touch the other black buttons in case she set off a self-destruct mechanism. That would suck.
“What are you thinking, Quin?” Macy asked with a hand on her hip when she noticed Quin’s calculating expression.
She gripped the gun barrel in her other hand and used it to lean on, her focus was on her new friend, though. Regardless, it was more comfortable than holding the heavy weapon indefinitely.
“Illan and I will storm the bridge. You and Cyn get everyone to the pods, just in case we fail.”
“I’m coming with you.” Macy crushed the gun to her chest, grateful for her breasts acting as some sort of shelf. Quin opened her mouth, but Macy leveled a steely-eyed glare on her friend, the one Gran had perfected. That shut Quin up. She was determined to help, and Quin had to learn to let her.
“We’ll clear the guards. You focus on the prisoners,” Quin said to Cyndi.
After clearing the remaining four compartments and as they headed for the bridge, Macy was useless. She hadn’t been able to shoot a single guard. She’d helped drag them into the cells and shoot them again where they lay, but that didn’t count. She and Quin waited as the blue guy, Illan, stopped in front of something console-like. He tapped a few holographic buttons, but his frown deepened. He glanced at Quin, and she stared at him, and their heads bobbed. Expressions crossed Quin’s face. Macy rubbed her ears, suspecting she’d somehow lost her hearing. Leaning against a bulkhead, she tapped the gun against the metallic panel. Just once, not too loudly, but it was enough to confirm her ears worked well. Quin glowered, tilted her head, and bulged her eyes. Ice drenched Macy from her scalp to her slippered toes. No way. No, she couldn’t believe it. She narrowed her gaze and focused. Shit, they were communicating telepathically.
Damn. As awesome as that was, she was even more excluded.
“Mace,” Quin’s whisper startled her. She jumped a foot and barely managed to swallow a yelp. “We’re going to lure them out.”
Macy gulped and hefted the gun into her hands, showing she was ready as needed. The door slid open, and Illan shuffled along the passage where the three of them could hug the metal-paneled walls. Macy mimicked Quin’s posture, trying to hold up the gun, which seemed to be growing heavier with each passing second. She smashed her back against the wall, copying Quin’s attempt to minimize her body.
Sharp pain lanced through Macy’s shoulder, and she bit her lip to stifle a cry that tore up her throat. Fire throbbed through her shoulder with warmth saturating her nightgown and pajamas, telling its own story. Shit. She gritted her teeth, glancing at Quin, wondering if she should tell her.
But she didn’t have any time to dwell on it when a Yithian stepped into the passage. He was a big bastard, bigger than Fish-breath, and a slimy nefarious feeling oozed from him. She raised the heavy gun and fired on him instinctively. She wasn’t alone. Three blasts hit him, hopefully in all his vulnerable spots. She grinned, despite being unsure where she’d shot him but glad to have helped.
The ship tilted, and she flung out a hand to steady herself. The gun’s nozzle tipped to the floor, her one arm unable to handle the weight on its own. When Quin bolted, Macy gaped. Her friend barrel rolled into the room. The blue guy muttered something that sounded like a curse and followed her. Three blast sounds followed.
Macy entered the room, gun upright again. Quin held hers to a Yithian’s forehead. Macy couldn’t halt the grin as she imagined a famous actress in that position. The Yithian didn’t seem frightened, though. Had she been asked, she couldn’t say whether a scared Yithian would cower. No recognizable expression crossed his solid-black eyes, but he didn’t glance at her or Illan. Sprawled around Quin were other Yithians.
“Sweet,” Macy said, fist-pumping the air.
Quin fired the gun not bothering to watch the alien collapse. “Mace, come stand guard.”
Macy rushed to do just that, while Illan helped Quin drag the big bastard from the passage into the bridge.
“Guarding,” she sang with forced happiness, ignoring the guilt that whispered she’d killed someone. What they’d put her through, they deserved it. She shot each one again. “Just in case.” She chuckled, then stiffened, fresh pain radiating outward from her shoulder. Wouldn’t it be ironic to die from this? She almost rolled her eyes. Typical her.
Illan studied the bright lights on a large console and pressed a few.
Macy glanced from the bodies to Quin when she dipped to speak to the colorful buttons. “Mayday, mayday, we’re escaped prisoners on a Yithian slave ship, requiring immediate aid.”
“Will they understand English, Quin?” Macy asked.
Quin blinked then glared at Illan. He spoke in clicks. Quin’s lips twisted into a smirk before she shifted closer to Macy.
“Greetings, Yithian slave ship. This is the Etterian battleship Phoenix. Please confirm assistance is still required.” A deep voice penetrated the quiet and in English. Macy’s mouth fell open as excitement and relief gripped her. Her shoulders relaxed. She whimpered and shifted, trying to find a posture that didn’t hurt. So quick? What are the odds? And the male is Etterian with the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard.
“Uh, hello?” At Quin’s response, Macy giggled. Smooth, Quin. “Yes, we still need help. We don’t know how to operate this ship. Hell, I don’t even know where we’re headed or what the blasted name of it is.”
A deep chuckle came through.
Macy liked the sound of that voice. Like chocolate. Her stomach growled. Perhaps the Etterians had food that wasn’t in paste form.
“We are ten minutes from your navigation point. We will need to breach your vessel. Is this acceptable?”
“Hell, yeah,” Macy squealed, jumping up and down. “Breach away.” Yes, please, sexy-Etterian, I’ll submit to a breaching. She giggled, wishing she could share her naughty thoughts with Quin. But Macy paid for that little display of joy. Her vision spun, and she almost threw out a hand to catch the wall, not wanting to faint.
But Quin playfully punched her on the shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows before saying, “We have prisoners at the docking bays ready for evacuation. I can have them launch the pods, though chasing them down might not be fun.”
“Gorgeous aliens,” she whispered to Quin who chuckled. Macy caught movement to the right of her and fired another yellow blast at the Yithian big-bastard. As soon as Quin faced the console, Macy sagged against the wall, sucking in great gulps of air.
“Was that a blaster?” an Etterian asked through the console.
“Yes, the Yithian commander moved,” Quin said in clipped tones, even as she threw a wink at Macy. The answering Etterian’s chuckle had hope pooling inside Macy. “Are any of you hurt?” Quin glanced at Illan then at Macy. Illan shook his head. Macy grumbled, looking anywhere but at Quin. She didn’t want to admit she’d gotten herself injured when everyone else was perfectly fine. “Where, Mace?”
“A sharp something cut into me.” She showed her shoulder. When Quin gasped, Macy realized it must be bad. Felt like shit. The pain gripping her wouldn’t let her shrug, and she didn’t want to, not even to put Quin at ease.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Quin hugged her, a little awkwardly, taking care not to touch her wound.
“If we’re successful, help will come. If we weren’t, then what injury would matter in the face of death,” Macy said.
“That’s my brave girl,” Quin whispered into her hair. “Etterian? We do have a few injuries.”
“We will attend to these, milady.”
Milady? What a strange honorific to use, but I didn’t care what they called us.
“Who is with you, human female?” another deep voice demanded.
Macy fanned her face. A nice dark smoky voice, yummy. She sighed. Damn, I need to get laid.
Quin didn’t find that voice as awesome since she slammed a hand on the console. “Listen, whoever you are, I’m tired and sore, surrounded by aliens I didn’t know existed. I don’t know what they are or who they are or how they came to be here. I don’t want to waste time detailing who the hell is on this piece of shit. I want off, I want a coffee, and for the love of it, a damn shower.”
Holy shit. Macy pushed herself off the wall, worried Quin’s anger would drive their rescuers away. She nudged her out of the way to face the console.
“Mace,” Quin moaned, but Macy leveled a steely gaze on her, shutting her up again. Her gran’s do-you-want-to-die expression sure came in handy.
“Hello? Hi, I’m Macera Mitchell. I’m so happy you guys found us. I was a little worried we might go from the fire into a volcano. Quin’s a little stressed right now so please don’t take her pissy attitude personally. On the bridge, it’s just us and Illan. You’re a Durn, right? My other friend Cyndi is at the escape pods with the released prisoners. Is that the answer you were hoping for?”
“How did a Durn get on a Yithian ship?” the voice asked.
“I fail to see...” Quin fell into silence and locked gazes with Illan, confirming Macy’s telepathy suspicions.
“The comm is still active, Supreme Commander,” the original Etterian said.
“Yes, it is.” Macy hurried to assure them the connection hadn’t dropped. “They’re talking telepathically. I find it quite rude, to be honest.”
“Mace,” Quin huffed. “Illan says he will be happy to explain it all after we’re rescued.” The Etterians were silent. “I don’t know why you don’t bloody well talk to him,” Quin said to the Durn.
“We are two minutes away,” the original Etterian said. “You should be receiving a visual of our approach, milady.”
“And which button would that be?” Quin’s tone dripped with enough sarcasm to transcend cultures. Macy sympathized with the dilemma. The damn console had more lights than Lunar Vegas. “I’d prefer my people join the others in the docking bay.”
“This is acceptable, milady.”
“You and Illan go, I’ll wait here,” Quin said to Macy and Illan, using her no-nonsense tone.
“Nope, sorry, can’t make me,” Macy sang back. Two could play this game. She had no intention of abandoning her friend, not until they were finally off this ship.
“Damn it, Mace. Cyn might need you,” Quin said.
Unless she used logic. Macy scowled, hating to admit that Cyndi only had one blue guy and loads of prisoners to protect.
“I don’t know where the bay is,” Macy mumbled.
“Which is why I need Illan to go with you.” There was again silence as they argued, Quin’s face morphing with a variety of expressions, like an insane person. She grunted in frustration and resignation. “Iddan is on his way.” She muttered, “Stubborn Durn.”
“Tether extended,” the voice said.
The ship lurched, which was strange on what she suspected was a large ship.
“Breach in progress,” stated the voice.
She shot each of the Yithians again, just in case.
When Iddan stepped through the door, Macy glanced at Quin, but followed him, still hating going. She stomped behind him, well as best as her slippers would let her. He didn’t say anything and was courteous, helping her down the ladder, letting her go first for her modesty.
When they breached a massive warehouse-like room, she hesitated, gaping at the metal-grated ceiling. A solid-looking door occupied one side with the same appearance as the submarine door in their cell. She shivered, praying nothing could pry it open. Being sucked out to space wasn’t her idea of fun. The prisoners gathered in groups around the room. Some sat, but most stood, their movements twitchy as if they were anxious or scared. Cyndi weaved through a group, running up to Macy to hug.
The pain from her shoulder made her bite her lip again, but she endured regardless.
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