May 12th 2184 CE 05:29
Jane Shepard
It was a mistake leaving Kar'Shan, a fool's errand. In a few hours, she would be sold to a factory on Uwan Oche – a grisly fate where the only chance of escape was death. Yet even now, as she stood idly mere feet from the airlock with such a dismal future closing in, she hesitated. Perishing in the vacuum of space was a brutal way to go. And after everything she had done to survive, to have it end like this felt so futile, so pointless. All it would take was one brazen race towards the airlock, one swipe of the hand, and she could bring the unsuspecting Captain Krapo Drarnastar with her. From the second she set foot on the accursed Ubralle, he had tormented her every moment. Being raped was one thing, but Krapo was a sadistic bastard who wanted nothing more than to inflict pain on every living soul he had a modicum of control over. So, why balk now? It was time. Time to show that son of a bitch she was not some mindless husk. She was alive. And she would be the one to provide him an end. She drew an uneasy breath, steadying her trembling hands. One foot in front of the other Jane. You'll see Ma and Pa soon. And Jimmy….. Jimmy I'm coming home.
She barreled towards the airlock, yet as her hand reached for the controls alarms sounded throughout the ship.
"The fuck is going on?" Krapo bellowed from his pilot's chair no more than two feet from Jane's position. "Oh for fuck's sake what's 1182 doing here? Stupid cunt was dumb enough to try the wrong door and nearly killed us all. Fuck I don't have time for this. Datin!"
"Yes sir?"
"Teach her what happens to slaves who leave their post. Forty lashes with the qilinbian. If she survives all that, rub some salt in for good measure. That dumb bitch nearly killed us with her stupidity."
"Yes sir."
"Wait. Private remember not to fuck up her pretty face."
"Right sir."
"Brato! The fuck is going on with our sensors?"
"Not sure sir! I'm trying to..."
"Can we land on Uwan Oche?"
"Yes sir but I'm not as confident about leaving."
The captain groaned. "Fuck it. Let's just call it a day and head to Omega. This heap of junk will probably explode in atmo with our shit luck."
An explosion rocked the ship, knocking Jane from unconsciousness, back to her harsh, cruel reality. Coagulated blood pooled around her. When she attempted to lift herself from the floor, her hands slipped in the slick mess. She landed with a thud as the sound of gunfire erupted from every which way.
A raid? Where were they now? They couldn't be planet-side, Uwan Oche was dominated by batarians. And from what she'd gathered, Krapo was a force to be reckoned with. His reputation alone kept rivals at bay. No. This was a foreign party, probably pirates. And she'd be damned if they caught her. With any luck, they'd kill the captain along with the rest of the crew. If she moved quickly, maybe just maybe she could hide long enough for them to disembark somewhere allowing her to escape.
After three attempts she finally managed to pull herself up. What was left of the skin on her back tore and protested harshly. She nearly buckled under the pain as she lurched forward, hands griping the weapons table with a mind of their own. Bone-white knuckles clashed against droplets of blood. Drawing several ragged breaths, she steadied herself. A small switchblade forgotten by one of her captors laid on the counter. She snatched it and scrambled towards the air duct. As she lowered herself down, another blast rocked the ship causing her hands to slip. She crashed to the bottom of the ducts with a sickening snap, knocking her breathless.
She wasn't sure how long she laid there unable or unwilling to move. Her leg felt broken as did her ribs. If she survived the raid, who knew how long it'd be before she succumbed to her injuries. Yet from her position, she could see the entire cargo bay. Below her was a captivating sight.
Several crew members laid completely still, between their listless eyes were perfectly round gunshots. Pools of red united in a picturesque fashion. Good, she thought to herself.They deserved nothing less.
But there was a terrifying and fascinating creature dodging, jumping and leaping from behind stacked crates as Krapo unloaded his rifle at what seemed like nothing more than a shadow. Right when she thought she was staring at its position, she'd catch a glimpse of silver and blue out of the corner of her eye. Whatever it was moved like a ghost and she knew in her bones that Krapo had finally met his match. Her soon-to-be-dead master bellowed at it to show himself. He was met with only laughter. The language was strange, alien in more ways than one, but it was beautiful music to her ears.
She watched with fascination as Krapo made his fatal error and the alien finally emerged from the shadows. He was made of harsh, spiked angles and glittered like steel. She watched as he effortlessly raised Krapo by the throat and slowly squeezed. The batarian struggled and gurgled under his executioner's iron grip. And as his gaze drifted skyward, for just a moment, all four of her tormentors' eyes met her own. There was a hint of recognition, a snarl, and she smiled into them as the light left and he was nothing more than dead meat hanging from the grasp of the perfect predator.
This large, spiked alien may be her doom coming to call but at least she was witness to Krapo's demise. It filled her with a satisfaction she never knew possible. Still this man-creature was dangerous and if she wanted to survive, she had to act like roth-dashi in the bushes. Silent. Still. She breathed in tiny, soundless gasps as she hid like prey from something that she was certain could snap her in two with as little effort as breathing.
An hour passed, maybe more. There were several other men with the spiked creature. One was a salarian, she was almost certain. She had only encountered one before and he was hastily dealt with after cleverly hacking through the ship's encryption for their long-distance communicator. They were nearly attacked by something called 'The STG' as a result. Yet, Krapo discovered the poor wretch before his signal went live. He drove a meat-hook through The Salarian's soft underbelly and hung him in the CIC as both an example and entertainment for his men. It took over a week for the poor thing to die. And the crew made a game of torturing him further. They set fire to his feet, fed him vinegar and dung, and when he begged for death they'd slather on the medi-gel and renew the process. After that brush with danger from the STG ship-eating-beast, Krapo adopted a 'kill all salarian's on sight' policy.
Two others were somewhat familiar sights. They were human like her, only male. She hadn't seen a male human since Kar'Shan and had never laid eyes on such a robust one. Initially, she mistook him for a rich-as-fuck batarian with his gut the shape of a keg, and round, ridiculous-looking legs. And she idly wondered why such a graceful killing machine kept him around. What help could he possibly offer? His usefulness eluded her but the spiked-alien was clasping him on the shoulder, and if she didn't know better, murmuring some sort of comfort. He was valuable in some way.
The other human was tall, proud. His dark, curly hair bounced as he circled the group of slaves aboard the Ubralle. Had she ever seen long, human hair outside of the picture vids? Potok had shown her movies from ancient times cast in a place called Hollywood. She had watched, fascinated at the people who looked so similar to herself yet so free. Free like the breeze that whispered to her on those sweltering hot Kar'Shani nights. She felt like she could see Mindoir or even Earth in his every step.
Mindoir was merely a dream now, the faces of her family faded long ago. She could no longer recall the sound of their voices or the color of her mother's hair. Jane hadn't seen a truly free human since she was a little girl. She thought she had, after Potok understood. But she and her sister-wives never walked like this. Confident. Certain. Proud. Angry. But with purpose. It took her breath away.
It was the same way the steel-predator walked, like the world was his for the taking. And Okonna help anyone who got in the way.
They had rounded the other slaves up. Every. Last. One. Aside from her. That wasn't a good sign. Either their intent was to slaughter them all or sell them at auction. When the curly-haired human began scanning and administering what she guessed to be medi-gel, she knew it was the latter. That meant they were fellow slavers. And she'd just wind up on another hell-hole ship like this one. And maybe it was weak. And maybe it was pathetic. But she'd rather die fighting than be someone's play-thing ever again.
By Ighothan's light, may she strike with all her might should she be discovered. She knew these men were different. It was in the way they walked, the way they spoke – even if she couldn't understand a single word. She knew they'd kill her before turning her into some sick toy. But she'd have to earn it.
Notes: We finally meet one of if not the main character of this story. She has a long way to go and a lot of healing ahead of her but we'll be hearing from this one again.
Also, I'm considering publishing a redacted version of my codex (to avoid spoilers.) I've been developing one to refer to when I'm writing. Eventually, it'll have names of characters, physiological and cultural highlights of various species, religions, foods, etc. etc.
It's nowhere near finished and stuff will be added as the story progresses.
