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Unknown Metallic Cell
2254 Years, September – October
Caro awoke with a start. Fiery pain lanced through her right shoulder. She sucked in a shallow breath at the sharp, burning sensation that traveled to her lungs and affected her breathing. She couldn’t inhale deeply, as she’d just discovered. It hurt like hell. She slowly sat up, taking note of many things at the same time. She was sitting on a cold metal floor in a cell with yellow lighting. And her shoulder was bloody, the pink of her shirt stained red.
What the hell happened? Where’s Malo?
She lifted the collar of her shirt to assess the wound. The fabric had stuck to her skin. There was no way she was going to peel that off.
She was missing a shoe too, and her knees were scraped raw and bloody. The sting didn’t penetrate the haze of pain from her shoulder.
The last thing she could remember was a boom, fire lancing her shoulder, and falling into Malo’s arms. The wound implied she’d been shot. The lack of scorch marks on the shirt fabric meant no laser or stun weapons. Hadn’t antique guns been abolished? She remembered Malo’s expressions of fear, disbelief, and fury.
“Malo,” she whispered as a tear slipped free.
She shivered against the cold of the cell, as if the hollow in her heart mirrored the cell’s despair.
This made no sense. Why would someone shoot her? And kidnapping her gained them nothing. Earth or even E.S.A. wouldn’t launch a rescue or fund a ransom. It had to be something Malo did or enemies of the Etterians. He wouldn’t abandon her, would he? He’d said she was his forever. She wanted to believe it, so desperately.
A wave of pain racked her, doubling her over. She cried out. There was no one here. She could moan, complain, and wail if she damn well wanted to. But one sob later she reined it in. It hurt too much to cry, jarring her lungs. She shifted on her backside until her back rested against a metal wall. From this position, she studied the submarine-type door and its thick rubber rim and realized it was air-sealed. That wasn’t a good sign. Air-sealed could mean air or liquid could flood this cell, and it wouldn’t leak. She was truly at the kidnapper’s mercy. If they’d stuck to Earth, she could’ve escaped via a window, door, or loose floor panel... She giggled. Yeah, right, her backside fitting through a floor panel?
She hastily tamped down her humor, lest it broke into full-on hysteria. Laughing would hurt like hell, and the sobbing afterward would be just as bad.
She’d heard the gunshot, had felt the blinding and breathtaking burn in her back and shoulder, then fallen into Malo’s arms. In a daze, she recalled how he’d lowered her to the ground and was on a knee beside her while he spoke into this wrist. He crooned to her, words she couldn’t understand. His lips had moved but with a droning sound as if she was underwater. He glanced away, his cheeks darkened, then he roared something, and leaped up.
Cold fingers had touched her wrist. She’d tilted her head to the side and stared into large black eyes against skin—shiny, pretty, like molten silver. The thing had flipped its hood back and hissed something to her. Tingles had traveled over her body, the same as when Malo had taken her to his battleship, then nothing as darkness claimed her.
The silver alien had taken her.
~*~
Malo stared at the blood-stained ground in disbelief. It took a moment for the realization to hit him, like a blaster to his chest. He roared his pain. It lanced, burned, and paralyzed him. He found himself sitting on his backside with no recollection of how he got there, his knees unable to support him. His hands trembled when he touched where the warmth of Caro’s body lingered along with droplets of her crimson blood. Like the color of her lipstick and toenails.
“Malo,” Ronin bellowed in his ear.
Malo tilted his head in slow motion. Ronin rested his hand on Malo’s shoulder. They ported onto the Gladio. He was still sitting but now on the floor of the teleportation room, the chill of the recycled air torturing his sensitive skin. Ronin hoisted Malo to his feet. Purely by instinct, Malo threw out his hand to stop his descent to the grated floor.
“Operations Commander, come with me,” Data Officer Tias commanded him.
Malo trudged behind him, one step at a time. The passages seemed darker than usual or was that his soul tainting his vision and perception of the environment around him.
He appeared stunned, but he couldn’t reveal the voice roaring in agony within him. The void reared its head, almost consuming him without the light that had been ripped from him.
“I am attempting to trace the port. Did Lady Caro have anything on her we could use to trace her location?”
Malo shook his head. How arrogant had he been? How naïve? To think she was safe simply because she was with him? He should’ve secured her safety with an O.D.I. implant. Shouldn’t have left her side, not for a second, not even to save Izzy. He drew in a shuddering breath.
“There have been no strange crafts, nothing to raise our suspicions. Which means one of the known ships was not to be trusted. We are scanning each and every signature, searching for human life forms, as well. We will find her, Operations Commander. Whoever took her is a fool. Of all the humans to steal, they chose yours.”
“They will pay for this,” Malo whispered when the roaring in his head lessened enough for him to formulate words.
“They hid themselves well, blending with the humans,” Tias continued. “And despite the E.S.A’s sec vids, additional security males, Garix and Ronin on guard, I found no clues except the second before Lady Caroline was ported.” He tapped the display vid, and there, touching Caro’s hand was a Yithian.
Red blurred Malo’s vision. “I will destroy them.”
“I agree. They have become troublesome. The issue is, Operations Commander, no Yithian ships were within porting range.” Tias clenched his jaw, then sighed. “This is not as simple.”
Malo gritted his teeth and flicked the images on the display vid. He paused on Izzy cheering from beside Garix. Ronin was a few feet to the side as per protocol, but between them were hooded figures. One clasped the edge of its hood and revealed yellow fingers. He frowned. A Maloid? As per the archives, Maloidians weren’t known to humans. He slumped. Tias was correct. This wasn’t a simple puzzle to solve. And that Maloidians and Yithians worked together was something Malo needed to share with King Xeus.
A Yithian circled Izzy then grabbed her from behind. She didn’t struggle until she noticed the silver arm wrapped around her. Then she dropped, using her weight to unbalance her abductor.
“Izzy is secure but understandably distraught. Garix has remained with her and will be delivering her to the Valiant. Sub-Commander Vorn will ensure her safety, as well.” Ronin settled beside Malo.
Malo nodded. Keeping Izzy safe would matter to Caro.
“We have set course for Yithia, regardless of knowing who the true culprit is,” Tias said.
Malo spared Tias a pointed glance.
“Trav has sent out discreet feelers. If any of our allies know anything, we will discover it,” Ronin said.
Malo sighed and met their gazes, their determination precious. His chest echoed with the same emotion. Along with the need for Caro that battered at him like an unyielding storm.
“Good,” he rasped, his voice having been ripped from him. “Send me any information the moment you receive it. I am calling in favors.”
“That would help.” Tias tapped the console, the vid before him flickering with dialogue, scan results, and miscellaneous data. “Someone must know something.”
“She is alive, Malo.” Ronin gripped Malo’s shoulder while clasping his forearm. “We will find her.”
“Yes.” He strode off, his destination his quarters. The moment he stepped into his room, and the door closed affording him privacy, he leaned against the bulkhead and slid to the floor. “Caro,” he murmured, unable to control the shudders, the trembling hands, the need to hold and scent her.
He had to be strong. She needed him now more than ever, his timid thamani. He glanced at his quarters and moaned. The scent of her and their union lingered. His mind flashed images of her laughing, teasing, now tormenting him with her unattainability.
Staggering to his feet, he stumbled to the cleansing room. He splashed water on his cheeks before staring at his dripping face in the small reflect above the bowl. His eyes looked haunted. He needed to hide that, to appear invincible, not desperate. Desperation would only have them attacking him with a frenzy that would not be helpful. He drew in deep breaths, calling forth his training, infamous focus, and legendary control. Instead, fury engulfed him and hardened his ice blue eyes. They glowed with the emotions overwhelming him. That wasn’t good either.
He stood in front of his display vid and commed the first on his list. Today, his name would drip from everyone’s lips. He didn’t care, not if it returned his life force to him. Nothing mattered but Caro.
~*~
Unknown Spaceship
A Cold, Metallic Cell
2254 Years, October – Day One
The lights flickered to white, and the massive door opened without a sound. Caro raised her head, expecting a silver alien to step through the door. The creature that did was beautiful. Caro’s breath caught when she—and it was a female—glided across the floor.
She was tall, lithe with a pale-yellow skin. The black markings on her face were mesmerizing, and her tentacled hair swayed like willow branches in a gentle breeze, strangely calming Caro’s simmering anxiety. Her garment was unusual, a mixture between a kimono and an evening gown, showing way too much cleavage. She smiled at Caro, but the solid black of her eyes showed no warmth. Caro had experienced way too much insincerity not to be able to spot it now. Not that she knew for certain whether this alien had expressive eyes. The black of her irises was startling against her pale-yellow skin and as menacing as the silver shark-headed aliens, who hovered in the background.
“She has been injured. I need you to attend to this, Bezu. This will not work with my plans for her.”
The silver alien hissed something.
The yellow female faced him. A battle of wills and words ensued, all hisses and lisps. Eventually the silver alien called Bezu marched into the cell to rip Caro’s shirt from her body.
Her cowering would gain her nothing, yet she hadn’t expected him to do that. She shrieked and renewed agony set her shoulder on fire. She’d kept the pain at bay by being as immobile as possible. Fresh blood now oozed down her upper arm as pain pulsed anew. She shivered when her last remnant of warmth fell in jagged ribbons to the floor. He withdrew a patch of some sort from his military pants and slapped it on her, making her wince at his rough manhandling. The pain eased to a dull ache. She glared at the yellow female, looking for a distraction and hoping to at least get a few answers.
“Why are you doing this? Why not just let me die rather than heal me?”
“I do not want you dead, female.” She curled her small mouth into what Caro had to assume was a smirk. “I, Imarri of House Zennr, want revenge. You will give me this or pay with your blood.”
“I’m already paying,” Caro snapped, despite her shoulders slumping. This female hated Etterians. Caro was but a pawn. “What revenge?”
“I will not reveal my plans to you, Earthian,” Imarri spat. “You need not know them to bring me satisfaction.”
Caro snorted. “You can’t force me to be complicit in your revenge.”
The yellow alien smirked again. “I can if you wish to eat.”
“I have enough stored.” Caro gestured to her wide backside.
“The journey is a maximum of two weeks. Will your stores be sufficient?” Imarri chuckled.
Caro scowled, deciding on the spot to despise this female, whatever she was.
“I thought not. We will start your training tomorrow. You will need to be more skilled than your pathetic self to survive your destination. Only the toughest can endure the first three days there.” She turned to leave before glancing over her shoulder. “Every comfort must be earned. Tomorrow, you will fight for warmth.”
Despite her best efforts, Caro shivered at the prospect of being warm.
“What does he see in you.” The yellow bitch shrugged and left, taking her shark servants with her.
She’d said ‘he.’ Was this about Malo? Caro curled in on herself as the lighting returned to that sickly yellow after the door sealed shut.
Yellow had become her least favorite color.
Of all the aliens she’d met, there was only one species she liked and their skin was bronze.
~*~
2254 Years, October – Day Two
Caro was an ice cube. Even her goose bumps were frozen. At some point, her shivering had reached maximum vibrations. She’d moaned at being warm, at last. Which meant she was hypothermic. She wasn’t sure though. So she’d pulled herself up and paced until the shivering began again. Then she knew she’d live. She hadn’t been able to sleep for fear she wouldn’t wake up. Nor could she get comfortable, not on the cold metallic floor, not under the nauseating yellow lighting, and not with the dull ache in her shoulder. It was better, but she still resented the healing they’d given her. Something told her she might have to pay for it with her soul.
To say she was miserable would be an understatement. Exhausted and wounded with anger and hate festering in her soul? Her stomach gurgled. She would soon add starving to the list. Not to mention, she had a desperate need to relieve herself but had no idea where she was supposed to do it.
The real torture wasn’t the pain, the cold, or the actual kidnapping. It was the humiliation she would endure having to go in the corner of her cell, like an animal in a cage.
Then the bitch had dangled warmth at Caro, like a doggy treat. She hated getting angry, losing control, or that her actions fell to her untried instincts. Once her fury was spent, she’d surface to find herself on a ledge, teetering on the edge of darkness. It seemed like today was the day she would own that ledge or die trying.
At least Malo had cherished her for a few hours, truly valued her. For that alone, she missed him. The intense emotions he invoked in such a short time hinted at a long-forgotten legend...love at first sight. She snorted but the possibility lingered in her mind, ringing with truth. It sounded crazy but felt amazing.
He was searching for her. She couldn’t see him abandoning her now even though finding her would be impossible. How could he track her without some sort of electronic device? And he couldn’t know who’d taken her. She stifled a sob then staggered to the corner of the cell to relieve herself. Doing so made her spirits descend further. She swiped a tear off her cheek while tugging her skirt down with one hand.
She glanced at her pale skin tinged a sickly blue. Despite sleep clamoring at her, she couldn’t allow herself to succumb. She’d die for sure.
As she paced her cell, she winced when she neared her ‘latrine.’ The acrid stench of urine was discernible. She whimpered at what had to be the most demeaning experience of her life.
“Get a grip, Caroline,” she muttered. “Who knows what else you’ll have to do to survive.”
Gritting her teeth against her fate and the cold, she did something she swore she’d never do again, in her life, as in ever.
She did squats until her thighs and calves burned.
On wobbly knees, she leaned against the metallic panels and shivered when her bare skin touched the ice-cold wall. She lifted her head to stare at the ceiling, wondering what to do now. If there was one thing she hated, it was boredom, and she foresaw quite a bit in her future. She chuckled, imagining asking the yellow witch if she had a sudoku tablet on hand. Perhaps a tiny stylus? That would be great, thanks.
As the goose bumps spread, she limped to the center of the cell to sway her hips. Squats were out for now so perhaps a little dancing might keep the cold at bay. There was no music, but she had an imagination, and it was just last night she’d revealed her inner porn star to Malo. She remembered how she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling he watched her avidly. All attempts to convince herself otherwise were irrefutably thwarted by a heart that had laid claim to an unattainable man. It was surreal that she’d been allowed to kiss and make love to him.
Recalling the beat of the one song she’d danced to, she let the ‘music’ flow through her. She lost herself to the moment. Hell, she might as well put it on repeat and go to town. There was no one to see her here, and she could be herself with no judgment forthcoming.
“What are you doing?”
Caro squeaked and froze with mortification, her cheeks heating for other reasons not linked to her recent spastic gyrations. “Dancing to keep warm.” She faced Imarri. “I’m glad you came,” she said, hiding a smirk when the witch’s unibrow twitched. “Is there a place I can go?”
“Go where?”
“Go, as in to use the toilet, latrine, water closet, long drop, privy, outhouse?” Imarri’s blank expression didn’t promise any comprehension, so Caro tried again. “To relieve my bladder, to urinate?”
Imarri’s brow twitched again. But at last, she sashayed to the back of the cell and pressed a panel. A compact toilet-like structure slid out.
Caro bounced on her toes. “Thank you. You touch the wall here for it to appear and disappear?”
Imarri demonstrated by stroking ridges in the panel, vanishing the toilet into the wall. “Ignorant Earthian. By the stench, you did it where you sleep.” Her lips curled in disdain.
Caro gritted against her rising anger and the burn of embarrassment. How was she supposed to know there was a hidden toilet? Arrogant alien. The problem was in the word ‘hidden.’ Not that anything this yellow bitch said mattered to her, but since it echoed her opinion, it hit too close to home.
“You are stupid, lacking the knowledge all other species have. What Malo sees in a creature so beneath him...” Imarri sighed. “Regardless of what, that you snagged his attention is something I can use.” She paused in the middle of the cell. “Now to discover what you are truly made of, Earthian. Let us begin your training.” With impatience barely restrained, she gestured to the silver alien behind her to step into the cell. He did with the door hitting his backside. “Come closer, Earthian.”
Caro hesitated, not liking the idea of this creature using her to mete out revenge. She studied the female then glanced at the silver alien who’d raised his black block-like gun. She hastily stepped forward, not wanting to get shot again. And the yellow light on the gun promised pain. She wondered about its significance. The pain that arched through her skull made her cry out. She tested the laceration inside her cheek with her tongue and tasted her blood, grimacing at the metallic flavor and the sting of the cut.
She glared at Imarri. “What was that for?” Her cheek throbbed and promised further complaints later. If Imarri tried that again, Caro would slap the bitch back. Pain was a two-way street in her world. Well, she would try.
“Prompt obedience is required,” the alien snapped.
“Then get a pet,” Caro spat.
Imarri swung her hand again, but Caro ducked, scowling at the same time.
“You have a sharp wit. This will not do well where you are headed, tewaa.”
Oh? So the slap was to help her? Caro seethed. “Fuck you. I’ll survive anyway I damn well choose.”
The witch’s laughter was husky and seductive. Caro almost snorted. She suspected everything this alien did was meant to seduce or beguile.
Still wearing a smile, Imarri met Caro’s gaze. “There is hope for you yet.”
Caro didn’t see the punch coming, having never been in such a situation before. It doubled her over, firing agony through her belly. Air escaped her lungs in an audible ejection. While sucking in needed breaths, she glared at the alien’s torso. She bluffed a forward stumble, but instead, swung an upper cut at Imarri, sending her flying backwards. Caro shot a glance at the shark servant, anticipating a blast from his gun. He hadn’t budged, but she caught a glimpse of his upper lip curling, as if he was enjoying Imarri injured. Okay, so no love lost there.
Caro returned her attention to the yellow bitch. She didn’t delude herself that she was this awesome fighter. The contact with the female’s jaw had been a lucky shot. Yes, she had some moves, two to be precise. Years ago, E.S.A. had scheduled self-defense classes due to the riots terrorizing their campus. They wanted to ensure their staff could defend themselves. Caro had attended, but she’d believed she’d never need to use any of the techniques she’d learned.
“Good,” the alien said as green blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. “Get me the katac,” she commanded the silver observer.
He hissed, and she spat something fierce, promising retaliation if he didn’t obey. He grunted, stomped out of the cell and entered again a minute later. In the time he’d taken to do as commanded, Caro had stared at Imarri, not glancing away in a show of timidity. To survive her time with this witch, she would need to be bolder and stronger. If Malo was searching for her, she’d ensure she was alive when he found her.
Imarri accepted the long shaft from the shark and faced Caro. “Step back,” she commanded.
Caro pinned herself to the back wall. Imarri swung the stick, twirling it with a fluidity and speed that was breathtaking. Music emanated from the shaft, indicating that it was hollow. It also warbled with certain jerky movements, absorbing the force. Imarri’s foot placements mimicked that of ancient Chinese calming techniques Caro had seen images of. She tossed the pole to Caro who caught it, sort of, whacking herself on the top of her head as a reward for her clumsiness. She winced but didn’t pause to search for a lump.
“Now, swing it and practice placing your feet as I have demonstrated. It balances you.”
Caro did as told, slowly and without grace. Every time she dropped it, Imarri slapped her, on the arm, face, or back...the closest part of her anatomy at the time. She stung all over and dodged automatically when the stick slipped from her weak grip.
“Continue. I will return in a few hours.” Imarri exited, taking the menacing silver alien with her.
He shot Caro a glance, but she couldn’t be sure what his expression portrayed. The door shut. She didn’t move, just stood there staring at the stick in her hand. It was light, resembling a bamboo pole. In the center of the cell, she twirled, using both hands, relishing its mournful tune. The speed at which it spun made her stumble forward. The top end tilted to the floor. She spread her legs like she’d seen the witch do and swung again. This time the whistling was melodic, and the pole whirled quicker. She tentatively lowered one hand and kept on swinging. It went better without an audience.
Able to do this much felt good, flooding her with a sense of accomplishment. She changed directions in quick succession, finding her feet naturally balancing to compensate the abrupt changes. Her arms burned from overuse. Her shoulder had begun to throb as sweat coated her skin. She was warm, for the first time in hours.
When her arms could no longer lift the katac, she leaned against the refreshingly cool metallic wall and smiled. Even though she worked the damn stick like a two-year old, it didn’t matter. She’d considered using the thing on Imarri but knew instinctively that she’d rip the stick out of Caro’s clumsy fingers. Definitely slap her around a bit more too.
And besides, if Caro managed to escape the cell, then what? She didn’t know what awaited her outside the door. More aliens? And being on a spaceship implied they were traveling fast to somewhere so far away it required two weeks to get there. She’d have to battle countless silver or yellow aliens to seize control of a spaceship she had no idea how to fly. They were also armed with those black guns flickering yellow freaking lights. She wouldn’t stand a chance. Pushing off the wall, she picked up the katac.
Hopefully, over the next thirteen days, Imarri would give Caro different weapons. She needed something to hold back the boredom, and weapons training promised to do just that. And since she’d decided Malo would find her, she couldn’t allow herself to ponder what-if-he-didn’t. Therein lay despair and heartache, weakening her. To survive this, she needed to be strong or at least pretend to be. Even if she was deceiving herself.
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