Page 25 of Infala: Bonded to the Enemy
“What’s Orvus doing?” Zepharos began to say when the Dohrag shuttle slammed down into the field, crushing the plants around it. His eyes went wide as realization set in. “Oh no.”
The hatches flew open and Dohrag troops streamed out, charging through the fields, weapons at the ready. Zepharos saw Shalia in their path. The two locked eyes a moment, frozen in place. Then, breaking free of his panic, he turned and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, heading for the tree-line. The Dohrags fired off a few shots, but Zepharos could runveryfast when he was motivated to do so. And this was just such an occasion.
Shalia, on the other hand, was surrounded, though the tall plants gave her a modicum of cover. She ducked low, hoping the Dohrags would pass her by.
“There you are,” a deep voice growled, shoving the plants aside and grabbing her by the hair.
It was Commander Valin himself, wearing armor this time, his massive frame towering over the others. It was that little bit of additional height that had let him spot her hiding in the field. But why had he come down personally? And how did they have another shuttle? They were supposed to only have a broken one aboard the station. Apparently, they either had another, or the one they had was not nearly as broken as they’d been led to believe.
Shalia felt a strange tug, but it wasn’t his fingers gripping her hair, but rather something else. An unusual sensation from her chest. Apparently, her new tattoos were acting up for some reason, but she had no idea why. The massive alien flinched ever so slightly, a hint of confusion flashing across his face for a split-second in a look or you’ll miss it moment. He glowered at the woman in his grip, his jaw flexing as his anger remained just beneath the surface.
Valin spun and nearly yanked Shalia off her feet as he dragged her through the plants, stomping them flat as he strode to theshuttle. She could see, now that it had landed, that it was clearly damaged. That much was clear. The captured Dohrags hadn’t been lying about the busted ship. But despite that, apparently the station mechanics had found the means to get it operational. Likely a priority once they’d lost contact with the ground team, which coincided with the survivors being certain there would be no more ships coming to the surface.
Or so they had thought.
“Take this one,” he said, shoving Shalia toward the pair of troopers standing at the rear of their shuttle. “Watch her. Do not let her escape, and keep her intact,” he growled, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of his ground forces. But none but of the team he’d dispatched during the last rotation were to be seen. Whatever had happened here, this facility had been overcome.
Valin spun and stormed off toward the general’s quarters, but Shalia knew what he’d find there. Nothing, and a whole lot of it. The two Dohrags watched their commander’s raging bulk cross the compound before speaking.
“Your male lacks spine,” the nearest guard sneered with a cruel laugh as he tightly bound Shalia’s hands and secured her to a strut on the shuttle’s hull. “He just turned and ran like a woman. Like a coward!”
The other guard laughed as well, the two quite amused with themselves. The nearest one leaned in close, pulling at her top with a lecherous stare. “And he calls himself a male. Ha! I’ll show you what arealmale is. Let’s see what you’ve got under there,” he said, his intentions quite clear.
He stopped abruptly at the sight of her fresh, new tattoos. Apparently, even the Dohrags treated the Dotharian marking process with at least a modicum of respect. From what she had gathered, a few serious beat-downs for violating the Dotharian laws had put even the brutal Dohrags in their place, even if only just.
“Look, Grallox. She’s freshly marked,” the man said, hisenthusiasm cut short but nevertheless he pulled her top up, exposing her to his comrade.
“Shit. Someone must have just applied the runes.”
“No shit. Bastards went and messed up our fun. We’ll have to let her heal first.”
“Yeah, I know. Stupid laws. But I have dibs.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind seconds.”
Thoughts of extreme violence raced through Shalia’s head, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. She’d been a Dohrag prisoner before. She knew what they were capable of. This was not the time to mouth off. They had a much more pressing issue on their hands, and if she was lucky, their attention would be redirected soon enough.
Her gaze shifted across the field to the trees, scanning for any sign of movement. There was none. Zepharos had made it, or, at least she was pretty sure he had. She chided herself for not being angry with him for leaving her, but she knew there was nothing he could have done. They were unarmed and alone, and not expecting a fight. And if he’d stayed and tried to stop the Dohrags? He’d almost certainly be fertilizing the crops rather than still drawing breath.
Shit, Shalia thought, taking in the harsh new reality of her situation.Not again.
13
Commander Valin loomed over Shalia staring at her with a hard, angry look in his eye. He had just walked the entire encampment personally, including each and every one of the fields, scanning every inch of the place for any sign of his men. He found none.
The freed prisoners had been thorough under the guidance of Heydar, and the bodies were buried a short distance from the outer perimeter as a result. He had said eventually someone would come looking, and he was right. No one expected it to be so soon.
“There is not a single trace of the others?” Valin said in his rumbling baritone. He turned from the bound prisoner and began slowly pacing, his troops standing at attention in front of the parked shuttle. “How is it not one of you has turned up anything of note? Well? Speak up!”
“It looked like there was some kinda scuffle in the dining hall, judging by the marks on a few of the tables and chairs, Commander, sir,” one of the troopers said. “I guess the commander must’ve missed that.”
It was the one who had manhandled Shalia earlier. Grallox, she recalled, was his name. He was respectful to his commanderin his words, but there seemed to be an air of some barely concealed resentment in his tone. If he noticed it, Valin ignored it.
“General Barzin was known to hold contests among the prisoners. And no, I did not miss that. Any fool would know the damage seems consistent with his little bouts,” Valin said, flashing a stern look at the man. Yep. There was definitely some sort of unspoken beef between them, but for the life of her Shalia couldn’t understand what it might be.
Valin looked at the others, a disappointed downward turn to his surprisingly full lips. Shalia couldn’t help but notice, now that she wasn’t a panicked new arrival afraid to look at anyone, that his features really were different from the Dohrag troops. Full lips, clearly, but also defined cheekbones that framed his face nicely, as opposed to the almost noseless faces of the broad-foreheaded fullbloods.
Whomever his mother had been, her genetics had taken the genes of a rather brutish and ugly race and shuffled those unfortunate cards into a rather attractive and towering beast of a man. He was solid and rough, naturally, as all Dohrags were, but his proportions were justpleasing, for lack of a better word.
