Alien Caged (17 page)

Added to that wonder was that his clan had brought her to orgasm!  Had there ever been a more divine moment than seeing the woman Zemos loved succumbing to pleasure?  Pleasure he had been a part of bringing to her?  The Dramok didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful as watching Elisa crumble before ecstasy; her face intense and euphoric all at once, her mouth opened wide as pleasured cries poured out, and her lovely body straining hard against the three of them.  He knew he would go to his death with that most perfect moment etched upon his mind.  Zemos didn’t even care that his cocks still cramped with the pain of not entering and spilling inside her.  Not when he’d helped make her find such wondrous release.

Discovering how Elisa had been denied joy and love in her life up until now had decided her fate.  Zemos knew he had to take her with them if they made good on their escape.  Oret and Miragin were also determined to do the same, judging from the glances they stole at Elisa.  Both his clanmates watched her with pain and wanting as Oret went over plans with Miragin to steal weapons.  The Dramok was sure he could count on them to agree with the necessity of stealing Elisa away from this awful life on board the renegade battlecruiser. 

She might continue to view them with trepidation.  She might continue to worry over turning her back on her own kind.  She might even despise them for a while.  Zemos could understand that.  He could even live with it.  All he wanted was the chance to make Elisa see he would never do anything to harm her.  Sooner or later, love and care would win out over her objections.  All of her confusion would be obliterated under the weight of his adoration.

At least, that was his hope.  It would have to work out.  Zemos was not going to leave his woman behind in this brutal trap of an existence.

* * * *

An hour later, Elisa found herself back in maximum security detention.  Zemos had decided to lock her in the guard’s office while he tried to rescue his crew.  He smiled at her after he disabled the room’s com unit, drawing near enough to touch.  Elisa half-hoped, half-feared he would make contact with her.  Her chaotic thoughts continued to churn as she wondered what she should do about her situation.

Zemos licked his lips as he regarded her.  A firestorm of emotions raced over his expression:  worry, anger, hope, and concern.  Elisa even fooled herself into seeing a moment of softness on his face, the look of a man staring at the woman he loved.

His fingertips brushed her hair back from her face, and she managed to not lean into his touch. 
I am his prisoner.  I mean nothing more to him
, she reminded herself.

Zemos sighed.  “I wish I could take that hurt expression off your face.”  He shook himself and went into what Elisa was beginning to regard as ‘captain-mode’.  “I will be right back.  Don’t speak to Coombs.  The less your active involvement is known, the better your chances at avoiding trouble with your crew, should I fail to take over this ship.  I don’t want you punished if at all possible.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned to leave the room.  Elisa halted him by saying his name.  “Zemos.”

He looked at her over his shoulder.  “Yes?”

“Are you going to kill the guards?”

His gaze didn’t waver.  “I’ll do what I must to free my men.”

Elisa swallowed.  “There’s one guard – no more than a boy.  His name is Larsen, and he’s treated your crew with nothing but kindness.  He feels what’s happened to you is wrong.”  She drew a shuddering breath.  “Please Zemos, if Larsen is on duty, don’t hurt him.”

The Dramok stared at her for a long beat.  He said, “In such situations, even the innocent often fall.  If he offers no trouble, he will live.”

With that, the Kalquorian left the room.  The distinctive buzz of the door locking was all Elisa needed to bring tears to her eyes.  She sat down in the chair behind her, making it squeak.

Coombs had apparently regained consciousness, which was something of a relief.  His thick, frightened voice echoed down the cell block’s corridor.  “Hello?  Is someone there?  Help!  The Kalquorians have escaped and locked me up!  Hello?”

Elisa covered her dripping eyes without answering.  If she was loyal to her own kind, she would run in, help Coombs escape his cell, and find a way out of here to alert Captain Walker.  Yet her conscience asserted louder than ever that Walker had been wrong to take Zemos’ crew prisoner.  They had every right to attempt escape. 

The thought that Elisa might do anything that would hurt Zemos, Oret, or Miragin was too awful to contemplate.  Yet, what if her fellow Earthers died at Kalquorian hands?

The situation was out of control.  Elisa had no idea what she should do.  She simply sat and listened to the far-off sound of Coombs pacing the floor.  Apparently, he’d given up thinking anyone was there.

Only a few minutes had passed before the door to the corridor clicked and slid open.  She looked up to find Zemos striding in.

The Dramok’s brows drew tight together as he looked at her tear-streaked face.  He didn’t comment on her crying however. 

“Let’s go.  Hurry.”  Zemos took her arm and hustled her towards the general population brig. 

Before they got close enough to trigger that guard office’s door, Zemos stopped her.  He drew Elisa close, molding the back of her body to the front of his.  Elisa was terribly aware of the man, of his heat and strength.

She gasped when the Dramok covered her eyes with one hand while keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist. 

“Easy, Elisa,” he whispered.  “I just want to make sure you can’t look.  Walk where I take you and don’t try to see anything.  Once we’re out of the guards’ station, I’ll uncover your eyes.”

“What did you do?” she whispered hoarsely.

“What I had to.  The two guards I found in there are dead.”

Elisa moaned.  “Not Larsen.  He was stuck here, like me.”

“No, not your young guard.  I checked, and that name was not the badges on either of the men on duty.  They went for weapons, Elisa.  I had no choice.”

At least Elisa could feel relief that the traumatized Larsen had been spared.  However, the worst had happened.  Men had died so that Zemos and his men could gain their freedom.

Too demoralized to object, Elisa allowed Zemos to pilot her around.  He even lifted her for a few steps, and she wondered if he had carried her over someone’s dead body.  His footfalls were silent.  When the Kalquorian captain set her back on her feet and prodded her on, it was only her light steps that she heard.  When they began to echo a little, she knew they had left the guard’s office and stepped into the main brig’s cell block.

Zemos stopped and let her go.  “Well done, Elisa.  I’m going to get my men out now.”

Elisa blinked.  The office and its dead were just at their backs.  Two steps forward and they entered the corridor of the cell block.

The Kalquorian crew seemed to know something odd was up, because to a man they stared at the entrance as Elisa and Zemos came in.  Those sitting on the floor and on bunks rose to their feet so quickly that they appeared to disappear and re-materialize.  Excited exclamations died as Zemos held up his hands for quiet.

The men were every bit as silent as their captain, though savage joy lit their faces.  The absolute absence of sound helped Zemos’ low voice carry throughout the entire room.

“There is a lift to the cargo hold through that door at the far end of the room.  I will be with the first group to go to Level Two, where we will gather in Cargo Hold Five.  I will explain everything else once we have made it safely there.”

All the men nodded.  Elisa couldn’t help but be impressed with how they were instantly ready to respond and follow orders.  No one wanted explanations.  Their trust in Zemos’ leadership seemed steadfast.

With his hand curled around her arm, Zemos led Elisa down the corridor to the far end, using Coomb’s field disruptor to take down all the containment.  The men followed without passing a single word between themselves.  There were a few footfalls to be heard, but for the most part it was like walking with ghosts.

Elisa stared at the intent faces surrounding her, at these warriors ready to continue the killing for a chance at regaining their lives.  She had no doubt that most were as deadly as Zemos.  Some looked like they might even be as lethal as Oret.

All Elisa could hope for was that no one would get in their way as they made their escape. 

* * * *

Oret led the way down quiet, dim corridors with Miragin on his heels.  He felt the need to keep his Imdiko safe and worried that he wouldn’t be able to.  Being all that stood between Miragin and a ship full of enemies had the Nobek hyper alert.  Knowing the horrific odds against them getting out of their predicament alive put him on edge.  Oret’s fangs were down, unhinged under the stress of having a clanmate not used to fighting his way through danger.  It only got worse when Oret thought of Zemos and Elisa daring their lives elsewhere without him there to protect them.

The Nobek never settled into complacency, even with empty hallway after empty hallway stretching before him.  It was a good thing; just as he was about to enter yet another corridor, he heard a footfall coming from the direction he wanted to go in.

Oret waved at Miragin to stay still.  The Imdiko immediately froze, his eyes wide as he obeyed his clanmate.  Oret concentrated on the footsteps coming closer, nearing the T-junction where they stood.  Only one person approached, so he holstered the percussion blaster.  Snapping the neck of the luckless foe heading their way would be much quieter than shooting him and alerting others of their presence.

Oret readied himself to kill.  The footsteps came closer, only a few feet away now.  The sounds paused.  An instant later came the telltale noise of an automatic door hissing open.  The footsteps resumed for an instant before the door hissed closed again, cutting them off.

When silence reigned for a few seconds, Oret crept to the corner and peered around.  No one waited in the corridor.  He eased down and pulled the blaster out once more.  A quick nod to Miragin and they were on the move again.

They got to the ship’s transport lift with no further signs of anyone moving about.  “Seventh level,” Oret told the conveyance.  The doors shut and the floor beneath the two Kalquorians shifted.

Relaxing a little now that they were out of the open, Miragin offered Oret a wan smile.  “Apparently Elisa took your warning to heart about sending us among enemies.”

Oret grimaced.  “I hated to threaten her like that.  She’s blaming herself for what we’re doing.”

The Imdiko nodded.  “I sensed that too.  Poor girl, she must be so torn right now.”

Oret thought they should be nearing their destination.  “Hang back close to this conveyance when we get to our level.  I’m going to have to kill whoever is on duty in the arms supply.”

Miragin’s jaw tensed a little, but his tone was even as he spoke.  “No doubt Zemos had to kill the guards holding the crew.  It’s too bad it’s come to more bloodshed.”

Oret couldn’t stop himself from reminding his clanmate, “They attacked us first.  What happens to them now is on their own heads.”

He felt them come to a stop and readied himself.  The door opened, and Oret checked the area outside of the lift.  The corridor here was short, leading to another T-junction.  With no one around, Oret and Miragin stepped out.

The Nobek said, “If anyone besides me comes along, jump back in and go to the cargo level.  Find Zemos.”

Miragin nodded.  Oret was sure of his Imdiko; certain he would follow the instructions to the letter even if it meant leaving Oret behind.  It wasn’t because Miragin was a coward.  Miragin would obey because he trusted his Nobek implicitly, especially in a dangerous situation like this.

Assured Miragin would get out if things went bad, Oret dashed to the corner where the next corridor waited.  He peered down the length of the hallway.

To his left, the hallway was short with only one door in that direction.  Oret squinted at the Earther word written on it, taking a moment to decipher it:  Maintenance.  The layout of this level came to mind, and he recalled the room behind that door was small and seemed unimportant.  When he’d asked, Elisa had confirmed that the room probably only contained tools used to make repairs to the ship.

In the other direction was a large, open window with another door set next to it.  Oret saw the racks of plasma rifles, grenade guns, and percussion blasters behind the window.  It almost gave him an erection to see all that firepower waiting for him.

Also on the other side of the window was the top of someone’s bald head.  It appeared at the lower right of the opening, telling Oret whoever was in there was sitting down.  Then he heard a voice say something indecipherable.  Another voice answered, followed by laughter.

Two men.  He could handle that.

Oret again holstered the blaster he held.  He crouched low and went into motion, running as fast and silently as he could.  In less than a breath, he reached the window and dove through it.

The bald man had no time to do anything but gasp before Oret wrenched his head around backwards, killing him quickly and cleanly.  Letting the body flop to the floor, the Nobek turned to the second man, who stared in shock for an instant.  This one was perhaps Elisa’s age, with threads of gray running through his short-cropped hair.  He’d been standing just beyond the window, leaning up against the wall.