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  Chapter Two

  Little Blue Planet

  T’zaal approached the unremarkable tiny blue planet determined to prove his theories were right. No one wanted to explore the world, because, even though it was the only one with life signs in the system, it was too small. The other planets were either dead rocks or giant gas planets. Not this one. It teemed with life.

  The commander ordered most of the scouts to one of the gas planet’s many moons to look for ore. He’d demanded a small part of the scout ships be spared to check the planet, arguing they needed live specimens for feeding. Grudgingly, the arrogant head of tactics had agreed, insisting on a quick sweep and grab of larger specimens. He’d been on his way to the scout ship bay when Zu’thro had intercepted him.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Science Officer T’zaal?”

  “I’m going to the blue planet. There are some readings I must take a closer look at.”

  “You’ll remain on board this cruiser and allow the true warriors to gather specimens.”

  “I’ve no intention of interfering, but I must take a closer look at these readings. This planet has artificial satellites, a clear indication of a more advanced civilization than I previously thought. I must determine how much.”

  “This planet is just a small pebble. What difference does it makes if they have technology? They’re no match for the Kreeh-noshian Empire.”

  “It matters to a scientist, because we need technologically advanced races to study. The small planet might prove of use yet.”

  “I doubt it, but by all means go ahead and take your readings. You have three hours.”

  “That’s not enough time. I need more than that to calibrate my instruments—”

  “Then I suggest you depart immediately. If you’re not back in three hours, I’ll leave you behind.”

  T’zaal hated to submit to the whims of the military. They were just the brute force behind the empire. Without them, the scientists wouldn’t be able to survive, because they were smaller than common warriors. Another setback was the fact that as a race the Kreeh-nosh distrusted each other. Case in point, the science ship was under military command.

  No other colony knew about the wormhole experiment. It was a closely guarded secret hidden inside the Glon Nebula. Kreeh-noshians were divided into colonies. Each had an overlord, and it was up to him which information should be shared with the rest. He didn’t need the unwanted attention. There was time for revenge later. T’zaal headed for a scout ship.

  The information he’d gathered on the planet was so much he’d programmed a separate module to handle it. Judging from preliminary observation, the dominant race thought they were alone in the universe. They hadn’t made it out of their star system. Their only successful expedition had been to their moon. Other planets had been explored remotely with unmanned crafts. They were naïve, but certainly on the verge of breaking out of their little corner.

  He waved his claw-like hand and accessed the planet’s information on their inhabitants. Impossibly, these people were genetically similar to the Pendo’rahns. The only different was their size and some minor variations. While Pendo’rahns were tall, homogenous in their appearance, these beings varied in skin, eye and hair color. They were also extremely belligerent, judging by the amount of conflicts he’d witnessed.

  T’zaal was interested enough he’d narrowed his search parameters to females only. They were so different yet so alike to the Pendo’rahn females. They came in all colors and shapes. Some resembled the female warriors, but for the most part they were small and frail.

  He prepared to enter the atmosphere, then located a sparsely populated area in one of the dominant countries. He based his decision on the fact most of the information he’d gathered was in a language called English. He uploaded the language, syncing it to the onboard translators. He wanted to communicate with his subjects as soon as possible.

  He’d just reached a wooded area containing a female life sign when the red alert activated. The wormhole was collapsing. Pendo’rahns engaged their science ship on the other side. T’zaal knew he had to grab the female in a hard swoop. There was no time to waste. His only viable specimen might not survive the transport process.

  The female rode atop a large animal. Pity he hadn’t time to gather the beast. He was starving, but his mission was more important than hunger. He had great plans for her, if she survived. At last there was the chance to prove his theories. He’d always argued the bio weapon used on Pendo’rah made the females better warriors. Without the distraction of passion, they’d become more aggressive. He planned to use this female as a template to restore their sex drive.

  For years, he’d been the laughingstock of his colony. No one respected his research or his unconventional views. Soon he’d prove everyone wrong when he unleashed his chemical weapon. Long story short, T’zaal bet biology rather than arms would be their downfall.

  It went better than expected. No one spotted the ship. Their detection methods were at least two hundred years behind. The female was now submerged in gly-urq. Unfortunately, when he returned to the rendezvous point the cruiser and scout ships had been destroyed by the Pendo’rahns.

  The wormhole had become unstable. He maneuvered the ship to coincide with the Pendo’rahn cruisers reentry. Luck was on his side. After the cruisers initiated interlocking procedures, it gave him a chance to slip by unnoticed.

  On the other side things weren’t better. Everything was gone. The colony and most of his research was now debris inside the nebula. Self-destruction was the preferred choice when a colony was about to be boarded. The overlords often sacrificed the entire ship rather than become prisoners. He was now more determined to find a way to defeat his enemy.

  T’zaal recalibrated the ship’s sensors and looked for a particular piece of equipment. This one was cleverly disguised as an escape pod. In reality it was a miniature version of a quantum generator. While the other scientists wanted to build bigger weapons, he perfected small ones. If the overlord had heeded his warnings the colony would still be around.

  To protect the pod, he’d programmed it with triple shielding and an independent power source. Even if its power failed, the shield would still be operational. He was counting on it, and wasn’t surprised when the sensors picked up the faint energy signature.

  T’zaal maneuvered his scout ship closer, then opened the hatch. He aimed a laser net and pulled the pod inside. Who’s paranoid now, he thought, remembering how his colleagues often called him that. After a thorough scan came back clean, he set a course for the badlands.

  All he needed now was a male subject to test his theory. He knew exactly where to look. T’zaal was very familiar with his male subject. He was a creature of habit. He needed to channel his aggression. The fight pits were the place for him to do it without calling undue attention to himself.

  The badlands were a collection of asteroids on the outer ream of the O’nuryan Galaxy. Some joined together through a hodgepodge of technology. They were mainly mined for their ore, but most of it was depleted. Its sole purpose now was to house the twin galaxies’ most wanted. The hollowed-out caverns contained fight pits, surrogate dens and illegal repositories.

  Soon after the Kreeh-nosh had abandoned the mining operation the scavengers had moved in. They’d turned the belt into a sanctuary for every outlaw, gambler and sociopath around. The prices were high, but the security rivaled the Protectorate’s. If someone wanted to hide and had the credits, the badlands was the place they wanted to go.

  The one called Briq visited them frequently, sometimes staying for months. Briq had been both his most successful experiment and shameful failure. He’d finally succeeded combining Briq’s DNA with a reptilian creature from a primordial planet. He’d expected to make him stronger yet subservient. Instead the warrior had become too aggressive and unmanageable.

  Years had passed since that shameful incident. What he intended as a lesson in obedience had resulted in the death of over two hu
ndred scientists. It’d taken a long time to rebuild the colony after his escape with another subject. T’zaal had been brought before the colonies tribunal. Since he was a scientist, his life had been spared.

  After that incident, overlords had become more distrusting. Scientists’ access was restricted to their facilities. The only reason he’d been at the science ship was because of his expertise in DNA. If their wormhole experiment had been successful, it would have been up to him to gather all the information on the lifeforms from that region of space.

  They’d expected to find new untapped resources and races they could either consume or enslave. They’d also needed to find out which ones were compatible with those of the twin galaxies. He’d almost lost the chance when the tactical officer had declared the planet too insignificant.

  A week after leaving the nebula, T’zaal arrived at the badlands. It was time for him to remove the specimen from the gly-urq and prepare her for his experiment. The gly-urq had been programed for the military, to immobilize and keep a prisoner alive. He’d tried to fine tune the readings, but the nanobots inside weren’t set up for the task.

  After entering the deactivation command, the alarm beeped. According to the bio-signs she was seriously ill. He couldn’t understand what they meant. Cross referencing her planets medical information he found the cause of the anomaly. The subject had a defective heart.

  The experiment he’d planned could kill her. Working fast, he implanted a translator into the back of her head. It was a new model he’d been developing for some time. T’zaal decided to take as many samples from her as possible. He took tissue and blood, and even from her sex opening. She had a minor break in one arm. The military gly-urq successfully repaired it. He tried to locate her dji’krah and was surprised to find it right next to her slit. That was interesting. Pendo’rahn females had it on their backs.

  The female awoke, looking around disoriented. It was a logical reaction. She’d never been away from her planet. She probably thought there was no life outside her little blue ball.

  “Earth female, my name is T’zaal. I’m a scientist with the Kreeh-nosh Empire. You’ve been removed from your world to serve our noble cause.”

  “Are you taking me to hell? I know my heart is dying, but I’m afraid I can’t repent. What happened to my husband was an accident.”

  “You’re aware of your affliction? It’s true your heart is damaged. I don’t know if I can repair it in time to complete my research.”

  “I don’t care what happens to me. The Lord knows it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill Davide. Even if I did, he was evil and dangerous.”

  “I don’t know who your lord was. We’re alone on board my space ship. There’s no one else here. I’m your lord now.”

  “If you think I’m going to believe we’re in a space ship then think again. There’s no such thing.”

  “Oh, but we’re in fact not only in space but in a different galaxy.” T’zaal came face-to-face with the female. Until now he’d been standing out of sight. She looked at him, screamed and tried to get away. The alarm beeped louder. The monitor he’d placed on her indicated her heart was going in to arrest.

  Working quickly, he sedated her again. He couldn’t lose his only viable female. He programmed a quick patch to help stabilize her heart. It was only a temporary fix. The nanobot’s capabilities were limited. The sooner he captured Briq the faster he could get to a science facility.

  Fixing her heart permanently wouldn’t be difficult, but he needed a fully-equipped lab. Time was running out, and capturing Briq was going to be very difficult. An idea formed in his mind. Why not use the female as bait?

  It wasn’t uncommon for slaves or captured prisoners to be offered as prizes. If the pot was rich, anything that proved valuable could be used. T’zaal needed Briq, and a way to get him without arousing suspicion.

  The owner of this particular fight pit was a nasty piece of heqriu’l crap with no ethics. He agreed to offer the female as a prize as soon as Briq entered the arena. T’zaal counted on the smuggler’s sense of honor to kick into high gear.

  He dressed the female in a diaphanous gown purchased from a Trac’xian surrogate. For extra credits, she altered the garment to fit the Earth female. T’zaal had had to kill the wretched creature to silence her. He couldn’t risk her talking about the female with her clients. He’d consume her later. It made no sense letting a perfectly good Trac’xian go to waste.

  * * * *

  Briq maintained a healthy distance between his ship and the nebula. He’d no doubts now the intel he’d sent the Protectorate had been accurate. The Kreeh-noshians were experimenting with wormhole technology, hiding inside the Glon Nebula. He sent the encoded message, using a code known only to him and two other people.

  There were few he trusted, and even fewer he called friends. He counted those with the fingers on one hand. In his line of work, trust and friendship were luxuries he didn’t have. His reputation as a smuggler, among other things, was legendary.

  Those who didn’t fear him quickly learned their mistake. He played every scenario in his head, planned every contingency. He didn’t take chances, didn’t trust and didn’t feel. Betrayal was met by death, and sometimes a very painful one.

  His sensors picked up the Toq’ma’lal’s signal the second they entered the sector. The Protectorate armada’s flagship was a very impressive feat of engineering. It was the perfect merging of technologies, and one of the few bio-ships in the armada. The ship had been grown by the Glaxians on their home planet, seamlessly merging with Protectorate technology. This one was specifically design for Pendo’rahns.

  Briq’s sensors beeped, picking up an increase in exotic particles. Using his old code, he hacked into the Toq’ma’lal’s comm system. He’d learned the Kreeh-nosh had opened a wormhole. It wasn’t big enough yet for the science ship to go through.

  Pendo’rahns thought it’d take a couple hours, and by then they could intercept the enemy. Things changed pretty soon after they discovered the Kreeh-nosh’s intentions. The science ship wasn’t going through. They were sending a cruiser. The Pendo’rahns planned an attack, to give one of their own a chance to intercept. If the Kreeh-nosh succeeded, the entire universe could potentially become their playground.

  The battle was violent and lasted for hours. After what seemed like an eternity, the science ship auto-destructed rather than surrender. Briq tried desperately to reestablish a lock on communications, but the Pendo’rahns were on high alert. He had no other choice but to settle down and wait.

  A search for survivors according to standard protocols yielded nothing. With it completed, a cleaning crew would be dispatched. After two days, the Toq’ma’lal moved out, leaving warning beacons behind.

  Since there was nothing else he could do, Briq headed for the fight pits in the Ottara System. He needed to make some fast credits. The pits were his best bet. On his way, he’d stop by the Trac’xian home world to pick up Xy.

  Xy was one of the few people Briq trusted. The Galadonian prince had dispensed with tradition, opting to reach out to other worlds. Galadonians were very xenophobic, making rare exceptions as far as welcoming outsiders. Xy had been on a diplomatic mission when he’d been captured by the Kreeh-nosh.

  The two of them became like brothers on the science ship. For almost two years, they’d endured torture and humiliating medical procedures. Their escape had been violent, filled with all the pent-up rage poisoning their souls. No one had been spared. Briq had ripped his torturers apart. Only one had escaped his wrath, and he was still looking for him.

  After his people had rejected him for being a freak, Xy had vowed never to return to his home planet. Roaming the galaxies, taking on anything and everything, they became smugglers, sometimes teaming up on runs. When Xy wasn’t on a run or in the fight pits, he liked to spend time on the Trac’xian home world. He loved the feline race of four-breasted females.

  “Briq, you piece of heqriu’l crap, what’re you doing ba
ck so soon? Did you miss me?”

  After Xy boarded, he brought him up to speed on the Kreeh-noshian’s success in creating a wormhole. They both agreed alerting the Protectorate had been the right move. Xy had obtained the information from a Trac’xian surrogate. She’d claimed she’d overheard a science officer talk about it during a dh’ram feast hosted by her master.

  She’d been horrified by it, and spared because she was one of the planet’s best surrogates. Not all Kreeh-nosh practiced dh’ram, the ritual in which they ingested live specimens. It was believed by doing so they consumed not only the flesh, but their souls too. Some warriors followed this practice, most didn’t. The Kreeh-noshian scientists scoffed at this ancient practice, deeming it superstitious.

  “I presume we’re heading for the badland’s fight pits?”

  “You presume correctly, my blue friend. How do you feel about earning easy credits?”

  “Easy credits and females are the whole purpose of my life.”

  “Then you have the helm.”

  “Aye, commander.”

  “Not anymore, my friend, not in a long time.”

  Briq headed for his small cabin. He needed rest, credits and a female, in that order. He hadn’t been with one in a long time. In fact, he avoided contact until it was strictly necessary.

  The truth was the Kreeh-nosh had not only altered his outward appearance, they’d changed the person he was. He’d been more disciplined before his capture. He’d controlled his reactions and emotions better than anyone.

  Now he battled the rage inside him every step of the way. It was another reason he frequented the pits. No other place afforded him the discharge of angry energy. He’d killed many since his transformation, enjoyed making them suffer. Before the Kreeh-nosh, he’d been the master of his destiny. Now the rage kept him from everything he held dear.