Series: Zandian Brides Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“This planet is supposed to be uninhabited,” Axe observes. “And untouched. By intergalactic treaty.”
I scoff. “No being honors those treaties. Anyway, an abandoned planet is a perfect place for the Ocretions to set up a secret way station for illegal trade storage.”
“That’s just the thing.” Axe’s voice is cautious. “If this is a trading stop, it’s a piss poor one. Just this one little hut? An ancient one, at that? They didn’t build this–it’s leftover from ages ago.”
“Maybe the holo recording of them will give us more information.” I touch the satchel again. “We’ll analyze it back on Zandia. The audio picked up more than our ears could hear.”
“Let’s hope it’s good info.” Axe’s voice is low.
“On my count, run to our ship.”
He nods.
“One, two –”
A sudden noise inside the shack stops me. We both leap to attention.
“What the veck was that?” Axe asks.
“Help, please.” It’s a weak voice, speaking Ocretion. Sounds female. Young. “Please. Help me.”
Axe frowns and looks at me. “We can’t help her. If we do, the Ocretions will know that someone has been here. That will make them suspicious. We need to think of the mission.”
The voice is raspy and desperate. “I’m dying. Please. I don’t understand you, but I heard the word Zandia. Are you Zandians? Please help me.”
“She sounds human.”
Axe and I look at each other, and his frown increases. He dislikes humans. “Veck,” he mutters.
I purse my lips. “Change of plans. We take her, no matter her species. If she’s been with the Ocretions, she’ll have additional intel on their plans that could be invaluable.”
Axe considers this with a deeper frown. “True.”
“If we leave her, she could veck up our mission with one word. If she lives and tells the Ocretions she heard Zandians talking outside the hut? The Ocs might take off, and whatever we learned here will be useless. You know they’re skittish--and with our strained relations, we can’t risk aggravating them by spying.”
“Veck me twice,” Axe growls. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”
“We weren’t even cleared to land here by Master Seke.” My voice is wry mentioning our commander and master at arms. “He said it was too dangerous. Maybe this human will give us enough info, along with the holo, to make this worthwhile.”
I’m not actually worried about what Master Seke will do; he trusts us, after all. Because we desperately need to know what the Ocs are planning. The humans on our planet are at risk.
I test the door of the shack–it opens easily, no locks. We check for traps or tricks, but it seems there are none–just a tiny form lying in the corner, breathing with difficulty. Even in the dim light, I can see that I was right: she is a human.
She’s dirty, her thin caftan ripped and stained, revealing a supple body tied with ropes so tight that they’re cutting off her circulation. The skin around her lips is cracked and broken. Her head bears an injury; there’s a huge bruise and dried blood on her forehead and the top of her skull–was she hit with something? Kicked with a boot? It doesn’t look good. I try to assess the damage, ignoring the reaction my body has to her. Underneath the dirt and damage, it’s plain she’s beautiful. Stunning, really.
“Need…fluid.” Her eyelids flutter.
I bend down and lean close to her face. I speak in Ocretion. “We’re here to help.”
“Please.” She doesn’t seem to understand, even though I spoke her language. Humans have been enslaved by the Ocretions for over two thousand years.
Zandia’s strained relations with Ocretia stem from the fact that we’ve learned the species we are most compatible to breed with is human. On the surface, this seems like a non-problem. They own slaves--we buy them to breed.
Except it hasn’t worked that way. Our prince--now king--fell in love with his human breeder. In fact, every Zandian who’s taken a human to breed has fallen in love. Their species changes us. They bond strongly to us, and our need to care for and protect them brings out emotions that Zandian warriors didn’t used to have.
And so the Ocretions and their galactic laws forbidding human freedom have come to grate upon us. Tensions between our two species are mounting as word travels through the galaxy that we allow humans a great deal of free will on our planet.
“Who are you? Why did they leave you here like this?” I touch her cheek. I’m enraged that any being could leave a human in such a state. It’s cruel beyond belief.
She blinks but doesn’t speak. Her gaze looks wild.
It stinks in here, far worse than her one body. I look around again, but the small space holds nothing else. “We’ll get you fluid soon. Just hold on.”
Something akin to panic wells in me. Veck, why don’t I have something to help her immediately?