Page 3 of Bonded By Savages

I remember sitting in the cramped control room next to three gruff, burly men who had been operating beams near as long as I’d lived, men who at first treated me coldly then grew to respect when I sniped a few spinning rocks as we approached the main field. The beams were strong enough to cut through asteroids, and I knew that with concentrated fire, they could even blast through an Aurelian Reaver’s shields if some brave, brutish Fanatic decided to prey on us.

I couldn’t believe when the green dots appeared on my view pane. I woke up the napping miner next to me, and his face went cold as he grabbed his targeting reticules and aimed in.

Toads. The greedy, skittish creature wouldn’t dare attack a mining ship of this size. So why did they have five attack ships and a mid-size transport diving in towards us?

I locked onto the first one, charging my beam to full power, and let out a warning shot.

Nothing happened.

The other three miners smashed their hands against firing buttons, but nothing came from our beams.

Sabotaged.

They landed in our own bay, the shields shut off. I watched two technicians, beefy men with big bellies, laughing and joking with the Toads who entered the ship while we stared at them with hatred in our eyes. A few miners tried to stand up to the Toads. They were cut down mercilessly, and sometimes I wonder if they had the better fate.

The two technicians laughed until the leader of the Toads jabbed a spear in one of their chests. The other pleaded and begged as he realized he was betrayed, and his words turned to screams as the Toad kicked the dying man off his spear with his powerful webbed foot and killed the next with equal ease.

The Toads gave the two of them the credits first. They wanted to see the two men’s eyes light up in greed, so they thought they were rich before they cut them down.

Toads are like that. Sadistic. They like to play with humans like cats would play with a mouse. They love to mess with you physically and psychologically, with an almost bored cruelty, doing it for no reason at all.

We were clad in irons. We were stuffed into the cargo hold, a dim, wet room where we got barely enough rations to survive. We were brought down to a Toad world, and I saw only a brief flash of light, the sun trying to fight its way through the black pollution that shrouded the planet, before I was forced into the auction house.

The auction house was a grubby little stage in front of a half ring of seats. In attendance were Toads in silk robes, their finery clinging to their huge, distended bodies, and a triad of Fanatics.

To my eyes the Aurelian Fanatics were even more disgusting than the pale, green flesh of the Toads. They stood at the back of the auction house, their black robes open to bare the left side of their muscled chests. They have a strength to them, with strong, powerful features, and if it wasn’t for the disgusting brand on their chest, they’d almost be handsome.

The twin half-circles seared above their hearts marked them as the worst creatures in existence, the Aurelians who instead of protecting humanity honorably chose a life of subjugating and dominating.

The men were sold off to mines and factories. Some of them got bought by ravenous Bullfrogs, and they screamed as they were taken away. I knew they wouldn’t survive the night. The triad of Aurelians bought two women.

I was acquired by the Toad Lord Bladdard. I was still healthy and curvy when I was bought, and the Toad found a sick fascination in turning me to a skeleton. I can tell he enjoys gorging himself at his feasts all the more while I am starving next to him, forced to pour goblets of wine with weaker and weaker arms, my body wasting away each day.

The vision was perhaps three months ago. Three months where I didn’t make another mistake. I couldn’t afford it. Not one drop spilled, not one crumb unnoticed, not one speck of dust to mar his goblet.

I was losing hope. Then the vision gave me a way out. A chance.

It wasn’t just a dream. It wasn’t just a dream.

I tell myself that when it becomes near unbearable. When I felt like giving up and slitting open my wrists, I dreamed of the three powerful men of my vision.

Aurelians. Saviors. Noble warriors of the Empire with honor.

If I had been lucky enough to be born on an Aurelian protected planet and not in a forsaken space station in Wild Space, I’d be living in peace now, guarded by their strength.

I stand at the side of the Toad Lord in his humid banquet hall as he belches, the stink of rotted meat assaulting my nose. He washes down meat with a goblet of red wine, and I refill his glass, my hand steady. He darts his tongue out, snapping it against my wrist with a crack as I pour, trying to make me spill.

If I drop the pitcher, he’ll take my hand.

I keep my head up. I stare at the glass, pouring it to the brim, and take a step back, fighting for control over my aching muscles.

I yearn for my noble triad.

They are out there.

They must be thinking of me, as I think of them.

And one day, they will save me from this nightmare.

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