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Fueled by Lust: Lucien (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5


  Leaning back against his seat, Makar nodded. “If we don’t bounce off its atmosphere, we can find out. There’s no way that this small planet has enough gravitational pull to have originally captured our ship. However, it may have enough to grab us away from what has us now.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on. At least we’ll be stationary.” Lucien heard a plaintive moan from behind him.

  “Please, please, let it pull us in. I’m sick of being on this damn ship.”

  He recognized Keos’s voice and sympathized. “Yes. I’m looking forward to solid ground myself. Makar, how long before we know our fate?”

  “The Nawien vessels will arrive first, of course. We should know something within a few hours.”

  At the announcement, every warrior sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Altair spoke for them all.

  “We’re not moving a muscle. This is the most excitement we’ve had in days. How sick is that?”

  Sotarios laughed. “You’re just tired of getting your ass kicked in the cargo hold.”

  Altair leaned forward and glared at the unrepentant warrior. “I let you win last time. I didn’t want to hear you crying in your bunk again.”

  Geleon’s bark of laughter started a chain reaction of deep bellows and rib poking. Lucien enjoyed listening to their replay of everything funny that had happened since they’d left home, and savored the camaraderie they displayed to each other no matter the level of torment each received. When Eryx announced Ulixes’s acceptance of citizenship, the former Protonecian was warmly accepted. He laughed at their attempts to scare him with nonexistent rituals he’d have to endure. Ulixes appeared relaxed and the happiest he’d seen him since the male had stepped foot into their world. The time passed quickly, and not until Makar spoke up did they realize the moment of truth had arrived.

  “The Nawien vessels have entered the atmosphere. We must be caught in the planet’s gravitational pull since we’ve sped up and are closing in. Hold on, everyone, I’m prepping for entry. Get ready for some bumps.”

  Lucien clenched his teeth and pressed hard against the wall when the friction drag kicked in and the port viewer lit up with a brilliant, fiery red glow. He’d always been safely tucked in quarters for atmospheric reentry and never imagined the exhilaration of watching this spectacular event. The vessel shuddered and swayed for several long moments, then finally slowed to a less bone-jarring descent. He heard the collective sighs of relief mixing with his own. The sense of peacefulness that wafted through the flight pod was lost when Baruch’s deep voice split the silence.

  “Son of a bitch! What the fuck is that?”

  Lucien heard gasps of surprise and grunting while the warriors jockeyed for prime real estate around the flight console. The image on the viewer was obvious, but his mind still fought to comprehend. He voiced his racing thoughts.

  “It was never gravity that disabled us. We’ve been captured.”

  Everyone leaned forward and watched with wide eyes while another large ship gradually materialized above the second Nawien vessel. Just like the other, a thick red beam ran from beneath its flat belly and extended downward to run along the front hull of the seized ship. The hauler was easily three times the size of the midsized ship. Two large fuel cylinders hung aft and proved it was capable of long-range flight. He’d never seen this style of ship. It had to be a slaver. Their cloaking capabilities kept them from being blown from the sky. They were not tolerated in the Glaxon galaxy.

  Lucien looked up, knowing full well he couldn’t see through the ceiling. Just the thought of a similar vessel hovering above them set his blood to full boil. The fuckers had been attached to their hull the entire time. His anger escalated at the thought that his message, if found, had not relayed the severity of the situation. He prayed to Dii that any potential rescuers were safely aboard the Prometheus. It was the only ship class that could withstand a slaver attack.

  “Ready the defense, Makar. Fire at the bastards. Just enough to shake them loose from the Nawiens. Perhaps they’ll do the same for us when they’re freed. Don’t miss.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” Makar said while he adjusted the firing grid. “Just a nice clip to that fat nose should do the trick.” He released a round and they watched it slip easily toward its target.

  Lucien’s stomach dropped when it dissipated before striking. “Gods damn it! They have a shield.” He hadn’t fully finished the last word when a hard shudder moved through the ship. All he heard was, “Oh crap, here we go again,” when the Athenian began to tilt to the right.

  “Hang on!”

  Everyone dropped to the floor and grabbed anything locked down. Sotarios’s voice came out gravelly and pissed. “You’d think they’d come up with something new.”

  The tilt was minimal and the ship never lost electrical. It was a small warning not to attempt another strike. Message received. The room returned to a normal level and Geleon’s calm voice drifted across the cabin.

  “Hey, Sotarios. Maybe you’ll find your fucking boot now.”

  Laughter rang out and squashed the heaviness of the moment. Lucien pressed his forehead against the floor and tried to regain his composure. He took several deep breaths and tried not to laugh again.

  “Geleon, I’m surprised. You’ve spoken more in the last several hours than I’ve heard the entire trip.”

  The room fell silent. Several long beats passed before he mumbled his response.

  “Didn’t have anything to say.”

  Altair rolled to his back. He scrubbed at his face and actually chuckled before he rose to his feet. He reached down and pulled Geleon up. “Thank you, amici. You’ve saved my mind.”

  Lucien sat up and leaned against the wall. “Warriors, it appears we now know how we were disabled and our destination. They’re dragging us in and we have no idea of their intentions, how many are in the ship, and the number that will greet us on the ground. The only advantage we have is the ability to mist.” Clambering to his feet, he glanced to Ulixes.

  “I’m sorry, my friend. We’ll get you away from them as quickly as possible.”

  Ulixes nodded. “I have no doubt of that.” He looked to the others. “Should anything go awry and you’re captured, don’t treat the emperor as royalty. If they have any idea, he’ll immediately be separated from our group or killed. It’s fortunate we’ve become comfortable with him these last days. Any sign that he’s superior in rank and we doom him.”

  All heads nodded in agreement then turned to the viewer. The planet took up the entirety of the screen and the landscape became obvious. It was very similar to images of Earth. The land was a patchwork of yellow, brown, and green. Several large bodies of pristine blue water peeked out from the intermittent cloud cover. Dropping rapidly to the surface, they quickly closed in on a wide stretch of tightly packed trees and dense vegetation. Lucien caught sight of a large, winding river enclosed by steep, forested cliffs. If not for the circumstances, the view would have been enjoyable.

  Eventually the lushness broke away to reveal a massive, flat clearing. It was evident that it wasn’t natural. Tall trees lay on their sides and mounds of brush dotted the sparse area. A large, square compound sat on the edge of the remaining forest. Eight smaller structures formed a circular pattern to one side of the central building. There were no evident signs of any occupants. To the left of the compound, a collection of ships proved this wasn’t the first time their captors had pulled others to the planet. They ranged from small transports all the way up to luxury vessels. Lucien turned to the warriors.

  “Did you see the large, rectangular containers lining the edge of the forest behind the main building?”

  Haemon responded. “Yes. Do you know what they are?”

  Lucien nodded and turned back to the viewer. “I believe those are cargo containers. I saw a Nawien vessel unload on Messor once. I recognized their size and markings. The others are not Nawien, but they seem similar and could contain cargo. It appears our captors are
colonizing. I saw no other habitats as we came in. The one we did see is obviously new in construction. They’re clearing the area as if planning to continue building. I think we’re the help.”

  The first hauler paused and began to lower a Nawien vessel. Lucien pushed away from the flight console, moved to the corridor, and gestured for them to follow.

  “Grab as many pistols as you can attach to your body and have your swords at the ready. Upon landing, we’ll assess their intent and determine when to mist. If it looks like they plan to injure Ulixes, we attack. If he is just taken away, we follow. Should this scenario change, we go peacefully unless they become aggressive.”

  Moments later, Lucien joined his warriors in the flight pod just as the Athenian touched down. All hopes of a peaceful resolution fled at the sight of the horde spilling from the edges of the forest.

  Keos shook his head and looked over his shoulder. “There has to be close to a hundred. The ones I can see, anyway. Anyone ever see one of these ugly motherfuckers before? What do you think they are?”

  Lucien leaned closer to the monitor. “I haven’t heard this language. It’s very guttural and sharp. I would have remembered. They’re built like warriors, but their faces are odd with that flat nose and ears split on the end. Definitely never seen one before. Who could ever forget blue skin and eyes the color of the sun?”

  Altair gestured to the one attempting to climb the front of the ship yet slipping backward from the same spot each time. “Look at the ridges running across the top of his shoulders and down the back of each arm. I wonder what use they have.”

  Haemon snorted. “Not for climbing, that’s for sure.”

  Geleon chuckled.

  Ulixes stepped forward. His intelligent eyes scanned the throng surrounding the front of the ship. “It’s hard to see them against the black hair, but there has to be some meaning to the amount of hair clips that run the bound length. Each has the large round clasp that holds their hair to the top of the head, but not all have the same amount gripping the rest of the tail. See that one off to the side? He hasn’t moved since we landed. He watches the others. I’ve counted nine clasps, plus the mesh shirt he wears is of a slightly different material. The three standing close to him have five clasps. The rest have less than four. Perhaps he’s the one in charge.”

  Lucien nodded. “I believe you’re right. In fact, you’ve made a very astute observation. I don’t have time to return to the room to fix this.” Lucien removed his sword harness, peeled his purple tunic off and tossed it to the side. The others caught on quickly and discarded their black ones. Quickly, they slipped back into the leather straps and reseated the weapons.

  Lucien tilted his head back to the viewer. “First chance you get, kill him.” Agreement came in grunts, growls, and affirmative nods.

  Eryx slid next to Ulixes and pointed to the right. “Look. There are five carrying long rods and approaching. What do you think those are for?”

  Lucien shook his head and tracked their movements until they disappeared from sight. “I have no idea.” Within seconds, loud impacts sounded at the entrance to the ship. Turning, Lucien gestured to Ulixes.

  “Stand to the back of the group. Makar, when everyone has misted, release the hatch then join us. We can’t have them damaging the ship. We’ll need it intact if we ever plan to leave this place.”

  Lucien closed his eyes to calm himself and willed his body to melt into its primary state. He immediately opened them when nothing happened. His second attempt was no better. The others were still fully formed and staring at him, and Sotarios voiced what they were all thinking.

  “Well, fuck!”

  Ulixes glanced around. “What?”

  Lucien pulled his pistol. “We’re unable to mist. Something is interfering with our ability. Open your thoughts and report to me.” Lucien glanced at each warrior when they slipped into his mind, said their name, and retreated.

  “Good. At least we have that.”

  Eryx stepped forward and placed himself beside the door. “Lucien, get to the back with Ulixes.”

  Lucien knew this wasn’t a time to show his pride. He stepped to the back and stood shoulder to shoulder with Ulixes. He nodded for Makar to release the door. Stifling heat filled the flight pod and sweat immediately broke out across his skin. He took a few tentative breaths and was relieved to find that his lungs accepted the planet’s oxygen.

  He was surprised the flight pod didn’t immediately fill with angry blue aliens. Several tense moments ticked by before a long black rod breached the doorway. A red glow emanated from the bulbous tip. When a slaver stepped inside, Eryx lifted his pistol and fired into his temple. Nothing happened.

  Keos, Altair, and Baruch engaged their pistols and came away with the same result. Nothing. Before Eryx could swing his blade in a full arc, the alien tapped the rod against his legati’s leg and the warrior’s body seized. His teeth clenched in obvious agony and he fell limp to the deck.

  The Insedi battle cry reverberated throughout the flight pod, and more rod-bearing slavers rushed inside. Lucien was mere moments away from relieving an aggressor of his head until he felt a stinging tap against his arm. His merciful mind retreated to blackness before the liquid pain completed its horrific journey through his body.

  Chapter 6

  Lucien coughed and immediately regretted it. Every muscle he owned screamed at the slight movement. Groaning, he opened his eyes and tried to figure out what he was looking at and why his back was so cold. After a few fast blinks, he finally comprehended that he was staring at a metal ceiling. He wagered the floor was the same.

  Turning his head, Lucien’s gaze bounced across the bodies of his warriors scattered about the large room until it finally landed on the bars lining the length of one wall. “Captured” flitted around his foggy mind.

  Fighting the urgency to lay still and allow his body to regain control, Lucien rolled to his side and slammed his palm down to stop the forward momentum. Gasping for breath, he pushed up to his hands and knees and his vision dimmed to gray then returned. Staring quizzically at his shaking arms trying desperately to hold him aloft, he decided to take a pause until at least one worked correctly. Soon, he was able to lock his elbows in place. It was then that he saw the thick, metal bands encircling his wrists. He was just too tired to consider their use.

  Panting, Lucien forced his legs to follow the instructions he was silently screaming to them and finally rose to his feet. He was thankful his shoulder slammed into a wall before he could tilt over and find himself in the same precarious position he’d just left. It took the last of his strength to pull his head upright and focus on the sight before him. More bodies than he had warriors lay about the dimly lit room.

  He shifted his eyes when he caught movement to his left. It was Eryx performing the same “I was just born” routine while trying to push himself up. Eventually, all the warriors began struggling to their feet.

  When they were all up and supporting themselves against the wall, Lucien looked out across the room and counted eight forms showing no signs of movement. Each was wrapped in a thick, hooded brown robe, so he couldn’t easily discern what they were or if they were even breathing.

  As he shuffled forward, his warriors followed suit. Reaching down to the first cloaked body he encountered, he pulled the rough material aside and determined he’d never seen this species either. Lifeless black eyes stared out of waxy, pink skin. It was obviously dead. There were no signs of decay so the death had to be recent. Perhaps these were the Sitherns the Nawiens were transporting?

  The thin, lipless mouth stretched wide as proof of the struggle it suffered before succumbing. It had no discernable nose. He found two slits along each flat jaw. Were they gills? His assessment came into doubt when he noticed two black horns curving backward above small circular ears and lying flat against the skull. He moved the hood back in place and glanced up. The others were finding similar outcomes. He wondered if his face carried the same disgusted expressi
on as theirs.

  Lucien tilted his head when he heard a faint rasping sound. Looking past the body he’d checked, he saw the sleeve of a brown robe lift then fall. Skirting several bodies, he moved to the form and pulled back the hood. His chest tightened at the sight of the helpless creature struggling to live. Panic was stamped deeply into the desperate face while its liquid-black eyes pled for help that would never come.

  Lucien noticed the slits along the jaw flutter open and closed in a frantic battle to gather whatever was needed to function. It was futile. The arm of the robe rose again and three pink, waxy appendages clasped his hand. Lucien cupped the shaking fingers in his palm and laid the other on its thin arm. With a soothing voice, he comforted the creature while he watched the life slowly wash from its eyes. If this was truly a member of the Sitherns clergy, he wondered how many times this poor thing had done the same for another.

  Sitting back on his haunches, Lucien embraced the intense anger flowing through his body at the senselessness of what he’d witnessed. None of this should have happened. He looked up to the circle of warriors surrounding him and croaked out a vow to the gods.

  “Until my dying breath, I will avenge these poor souls.”

  He felt strong hands lifting him from the floor as each familiar voice assured him of their commitment to the inevitable reckoning.

  * * * *

  “They’re coming,” Altair whispered before he backed away from the bars and crouched next to Geleon.

  Keos peered around Haemon’s shoulders. “How many did you see?”

  “Four. But if you count those gods damn rods, I might as well say a thousand. That shit hurts.”

  Lucien leaned casually against the bars. “Take your positions and appear relaxed. When they slide the door open, grab anything that moves. They can’t touch everyone at the same time. There’s not enough space between the bars for the rods to push through, so this is our only chance. Just stay away from the tips the best you can. If more than two of us go down, don’t fight them anymore unless they show intent to kill.”