Page 28 of Infala: Bonded to the Enemy
“You’re gonna be kept in a guest bunk,” the man said with clear annoyance.
“A guest?—”
“Don’t get any ideas. You arenota guest. You’re being placed there because you aren’t supposed to be here. No women on Dohrag ships. That’s the rule.”
“I’d heard. But?—”
“No more talking,” he grunted, shoving her ahead.
Shalia, wisely, said no more.
The walk was longer than she expected. The interior of theship wasn’t as cavernous and open as she’d thought from the outside view. There were a lot of corridors and compartments, and the route to her lodgings was circuitous. They passed by an open bunk area with a few dozen empty cots. Most appeared unused. There was an open bathing area attached to it, the alien version of toilet stalls providing the only hint of privacy, though they had no doors, only dividing partitions. It seemed personal space was not something the Dohrags had much of. No wonder the man was annoyed she got her own room.
“This is you,” the guard informed her, opening a wide door clearly designed for a race larger than she was. “You stay in here, got it? The commander will figure out what to do with you shortly. Until then, don’t wander.”
He pushed her inside and closed the door. She waited a moment then gave it a try, surprised to find it was unlocked. But it made sense, she realized. Here in space, where could she hope to run?
Shalia sat on the oversize bunk and took a deep breath, taking in her new quarters. It was pretty Spartan, all told. There was a bed, and that was about it. There was also a small closet for one’s clothing but nothing more. Not even a chair or desk. There was also no bathroom, she realized. She would have to step out and use the same facilities as the males. Suddenly, she was glad she’d inherited her mother’s strong bladder.
It wasn’t long before an unwelcome familiar face opened her door without knocking. Grallox, the bastard from earlier.
“Come on. It’s chow time,” he said, turning his back and walking off.
Shalia hesitated a second then followed. These weren’t Raxxians. She was not on the menu. Beyond that, she had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, it was nothing terribly exciting.
The entirety of the ship’s crew was gathered in their mess hall. The dining area was only about a quarter full, visually reinforcing what she’d heard earlier. Most of them had been on the surface, and she knew quite certainly that those men were dead. Thatmeant this place was running on something of a skeleton crew. Grallox sat at a table with other Dohrags. Only the commander wasn’t present, likely dining in private, one benefit of rank. Shalia opted to sit by herself.
When the food came, she realized it would be a family-style dining situation, and so long as she was at her own table she would not be receiving any food of her own. She was torn. If she wanted to eat, she’d have to get much closer to her abductors, which she most certainly did not want. But if she stayed back and waited, there might not be anything left for her when they were done.
For tonight, at least, she opted for the latter, deciding to see how that played out. If it didn’t go well, she could always adjust in the morning. As it turned out, the Dohrags made quick work of their meal, leaving a mess behind, but also enough scraps from the communal serving dish for her to make a meal of it.
“Oh, this is gross,” she grumbled as she ate the flavorless slop. “For a station loaded with all sorts of crops, their cooking sucks.”
Regardless, she ate until she felt full. There was no telling when she’d be fed next, and she needed her energy, of that she was quite sure. When she finished, however, a lone Dohrag stopped her at the door.
“Where you think you’re going?”
“Uh, back to my quarters?”
“Nope. Commander’s orders. You’re to clean up here, then you clean the bathroom.”
“But I?—”
“No buts. You do as you’re told. You may be protected because your runes are new, but that won’t last for long, so don’t piss me off, you got it?”
“Yes,” she replied, eyes cast low. “I’m sorry.”
The man snorted and walked away, leaving her to figure out how to clear up the dishes and where they all went. She was glad it was such a small crew. A full contingent and she’d have really had her work cut out for her.
As it turned out, Shalia finished the task much faster than she’d expected. There was a washing device that essentially vaporized any organic material left on the plates once she placed them inside and activated the system. From there it was just figuring out where to stack them for the morning meal. All told, it wasn’t so bad.
Cleaning the bathroom, however, was another story.
Shalia was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor around the toilets when they came. All of the crew, it looked like, from the lowest grunt to the commander all strode in, and none wore so much as a stitch of clothing. As an all-male crew living in close quarters for years at a time, they clearly had no issue with nudity.
She swallowed hard and fixed her eyes on the ground, but she’d seen enough. The Dohrags, while alien in many respects, were surprisingly human in one regard. Their genitalia seemed to be quite average despite their leering braggadocio and endless comments about their sexual prowess. In fact, they were a bit below average compared to what Shalia had been accustomed to back home. No wonder they were such assholes. Always trying to make up for theirshortcomings.
A swinging blur noticed out of the corner of her eye made Shalia look up before she could think twice about what she was doing. It was the commander. The half-breed. The angriest man on the ship, it seemed. But one thing could be said for Commander Valin; whatever questions there might have been as to exactly what his mother’s genes had gifted him compared to the pureblood Dohrags, his massive cock was surely among them.
