Page 67 of Infala: The Alien's Bond
The quiet woman with deep green hair and velvety brown skin kicked the nearest Dohrag with impressive force for someone her size. “What about the wounded?” she asked, murder in her eyes.
Heydar sized her up in a glance and gave a sympathetic nod. He knew the Dohrag ways.
“Do with them as you please,” he replied, gathering up multiple bladed weapons and a Dohrag rifle. “I will handle the rest.”
With that he quietly stepped out into the night, and the Dohrag would be paying the ultimate price.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Daylight broke with an unusual calm over the Dohrag encampment. No gruff yells were to be heard filling the air, no crying of laborers being forced from their bunkhouses and into the fields. All there was, was silence.
But then, the dead tended not to make much of a commotion.
Heydar had been brutally efficient the night before, taking the unexpecting guards by surprise with both stealth and a particular degree of violent skill none who had watched him since his arrival in the Dohrag camp would have ever thought possible of the man.
A few of them had been left breathing, bound and imprisoned in their own holding cells—though that was more for their value providing information than any sense of mercy.
The overworked laborers had moved the bodies then spread out into the Dohrag quarters, enjoying the freedom to come and go as they pleased, sleeping in the small but far more comfortable bunks their captors had enjoyed.
When the disgruntled male prisoners had found themselves released from their bondage by a towering, gore-covered barbarian of a man any thoughts they might have had of making a fuss were extinguished at once. They fell in line. Heydar was the leader, no questions asked.
A few of the male captives had even volunteered to stand watch, taking the uniforms of the dead to fool any who might stumble upon them long enough to silence them while the others enjoyed their first real sleep-in since longer than they could remember.
Heydar had finished his bloody work and washed in the general’s chambers, claiming them for himself. No one objected in the slightest. He and Darla slept soundly that night, wrapped in each other’s arms on the bed that, while large for an individual, was clearly not intended for a couple. They had been so exhausted they didn’t even notice, dropping into a restful slumber both desperately needed.
Slowly, the encampment began to liven, but now with the excited chatter of happy voices reveling in their first day of real freedom, wondering what exactly they would do next. Some were from other planets—other solar systems, for that matter. Others, however, had been snatched from their homes on this world. The Dohrags didn’t much care so long as there were more laborers to do their bidding.
As the smell of breakfast wafted through the encampment Heydar “spoke” with the Dohrag survivors, though his tone was anything but conversational. A few representatives of the different labor groups joined him, their familiarity with the Dohrags lending a bit of expertise with validating their responses.
“What they say makes sense,” a gruff prisoner named Kuxx said.
He was entirely hairless and stocky in build but no taller than a human male. He did, however, have deep blue skin offsetting his blazing red eyes, making his alien provenance quite clear. He also possessed some sort of natural protective growths on his joints, like genetic armoring protecting his most vulnerable parts. Fat lot of good that had done when the Dohrags caught up with him.
But he was a clever one, and he had kept his eyes and ears open while he labored. A useful ally, no doubt, and one Heydar had taken a liking to almost immediately.
Heydar nodded slowly as he mulled over the intel they had gleaned. “So, it seems we can expect the Dohrag shuttlecraft to visit us this afternoon.”
“Unless someone was able to get warning to them before you took them out,” Kuxx said with a little chuckle. “Given how banged up the survivors are, I seriously doubt any managed it. Nicely done, Heydar. You are a credit to your people.”
Heydar’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing.
Kuxx waited a moment out of respect. “So, what would you have us do, Commander?”
“Do not call me that.”
“The men, they are willing to follow you.”
“I am not your commander. Just a man who did what was needed.”
“Regardless, they respect you. And as such a diverse group, taken from so many cultures, I feel we need direction to function as a cohesive unit.”
Heydar mulled over the man’s words. He didn’t want the job, that was clear, but there was a looming threat that someone had to step up to address. Unfortunately, with objective eyes he could see he was the logical choice.
“Very well,” he said with a sigh. “Gather the remaining bodies and strip them of useful items, then bury them. We will need men of roughly the same size and build as the Dohrags to wear their uniforms and armor to greet the shuttle when it lands.”
“I will make it so,” Kuxx said, moving to action.
Heydar held up his hand. “Wait. There is more.” He turned to the women representing the other labor groups. “I know this will be distasteful, and I am sorry, but the shuttle will be arriving from the air. If the fields are empty, they will know something is wrong.”
