Defying The Alliance: ERUPTION (Novokin Alliance Invasion 3) (2 page)

Having fueled myself on an ultra nutritious breakfast of tepid, brackish water I limped back and forth across the little cell I shared with the fiery little redhead. I found myself ignoring her questions and commentary. I absently brushed the small bump on my arm that was the detonator to the explosives lining my deep space light armored fighter currently under lock and key in one of the Harbinger’s hangers. I should be focusing on figuring out a way out of here. Yet my thoughts seemed stuck in the same loop. They kept straying back to her.

What the hell had Asmot done to my sister to make her turn on me like that?

What did I miss? How could she betray me?
Sure as sisters we’d never been as close as I’d have liked to, but I loved her. And I thought she did too. I’d have given my life for her. Yes, at times I may have not been as attentive to her as I probably should have. But I was busy, I didn't ignore her because I wanted to.

I was a career officer. There wasn’t much time for personal life, for family and friends outside the Protectorate Space Force and my crew. I offered myself to the United Worlds Protectorate service unconditionally, foolhardy maybe.
Had it cost me my sister?
The deep burrowing pain of betrayal and loss gnawed at my gut like
a
Colaeria
n
pecanbeast.

Again, if she wanted to hurt me she could figure out a number of ways that didn’t involve selling her people out to the enemy.
No! No matter her issues with me I couldn’t forgive her the betrayal of our people, our father's memory, or the innocent people the Alliance had scheduled to execute.

Spinning around after my third pace, the metal cup I drank from clinked across the floor. On their own accord my fingernails carved half moons into the palms of my hands as my clenched fists tightened and shook. Even so, even if I had been a bad, neglectful sister, how could she have thrown her lot in with these, these… Murderers! Begging favors from the Alliance. Making deals with Asmot, the devil incarnate.
What possible excuse could she have...None! In my book there was no excuse for her actions and it made me mad. Real mad
. Mad as a Krinathian loorker flot, with a henge.
Yeah that mad
.

Julie gave an over exaggerated, "Ahem." It forced me to refocus on my surroundings just as the last tumbler in the thick metal cell door unlocked. A tall, broad shouldered Novokin in a decorated mask replete with a garnish navy pleather cloak-coat ensemble that covered him from head to toe stepped into the doorway. I threw a hand up to my face trying very hard to stifle a giggle. Snot shot out of my nose.

"Time to answer some questions," commanded the fashion week reject.

Three guards accompanied him, their plasma rifles primed and ready. They manhandled me out of the cell and into a brightly lit corridor that brought the orchestra in my head back on stage for an encore.
Sheeteks
. I was still too woozy to offer any kind of resistance.

"Looks like it's time for a proper breakfast," I quipped through gritted teeth while the nice men dragged me away from my cozy accommodations.

I looked back in time to catch Julie smile at the weirdo in the full-body cloak before pulling her into the corridor.

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition." I assumed she jested to a non-receptive audience. That was my strange red-headed Terran girl from a distant galaxy. The girl I had learned to depend on since we liberated her from her Lizardian slavers. In truth it had been her defiant spirit that inspired me beyond all reason to attack the Lizardian guards on a Novokin controlled space station. She was the youngest of my new crew but in no way timid or feeble. Quite the opposite. She was bold, brilliant and astute. The antics she employed when we captured the Prime Minister provided us with evidence of his hideous crime, his betrayal to his people, that we would use one day to bring his co-conspirators to justice. She sure had an air for the dramatic, she often said strange things that none of us understood but up until now she had always followed my orders. Part of me was furious that she had disobeyed me and snuck into my fighter without permission. The other part of me was ashamed at the relief I felt I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

In this galaxy there were two things you could always count on the Novokin Alliance for. Number one was their lack of subtlety. Two was their deeply ingrained love of pomp and circumstance. I found out our new friend dressed in his froufrou regalia, or as the Novokins liked to call it a
judgment uniform
was here to interrogate us. I can see how maybe someone else might have been scared, but having resigned myself to my fate long before I stepped foot on the ship, the Novokin in front of me dressed in drag merely teetered on the ridiculous.

His movement was slow and deliberate, most likely due to the dark helmet covering his entire head. A white design of some sort, a weird looking skull or a ghost or something painted on its center. However, the cloak was the real kicker. It might have been imposing if they hadn't attempted to bedazzle it with purple and blue jewels of some kind. More like cheap glass and glue by the looks of it. His cloak was so dark it might have been black except where light reflected off. I'm sure it was quite imposing at one point, dare I say cool, had he not let a six-year-old girl with a pretty, pretty princess fetish at it. Secretly I believed he was dressed like a unicorn underneath.

The sad part of all that was it took him fifteen minutes to tell us all about the uniform. I mean seriously, who cares what you wear when you torture us. Talk about skewed priorities. Heck, if I had any actual state secrets, I would have divulged them long ago just to shut him up.

Two hours later and he still hadn’t spoken a word to me. My wrist manacled to the table had gone numb while waiting in the dark windowless room that looked suspiciously like our cell. I stared at the broken pipe dripping in the corner. Maybe when we were done, he'd walk us around for another fifteen minutes telling us about his shoes while his minions did a stage crew clean up of the room, returning it to its original prison cell chic.

Wow, it was hard to focus as blurry images of the unicorn princess sidled in and out of my peripheral view. I was fed up. Especially since this asshole hadn't asked me one question. Nothing about our fleet, nothing about our targets… In the eight Infernos, he didn't even ask me what my full name was. It was like he didn't care. Skeck, he hadn't even looked at me since he bound me to the table. What a way to make a girl feel unwanted.

Now Julie... He had taken a great interest in her.
How did you leave planet Rimond IV
our grand inquisitor
Mr. Sparkly had asked her. How did he even know she was on that planet? I remember her telling me that's where she was captured and given over to the slavers. Well beyond our sector of space. He asked her about when she was picked up by the slavers. Then he asked if they hurt her. I watched his stiff posture relax the more he listened to her talk. I haven't actually been interrogated that often, but this seemed a little odd to me.

Then he inquired about how she had escaped from the slavers. All right, now we were getting into the meat of the story. Julie discussed the incident with the Floturan child, and then my intervention when the massive green Lizardian attempted to punish her with the laser whip. She went on to describe the firefight, and then how Jaxx and my ensign led her and a number of the slaves to my ship, the Razor. His gaze turned back to me, or at least his head turned my way, I couldn't make out his eyes through the mask. He nodded in slight deference. Have to say, this reminded me very little of Alliance modus operandi to date.

Finally, tall, dark and glittery addressed me, "So Captain, I assume by the strained look on your face you didn't eat your breakfast this morning."

Okay, weird question but I'd play along. "Would you have eaten anything I'd given you?"

"I guess I should've expected that, but Darlatina tree essence is very hard to come by, I do not believe the tree even grows in this galaxy. As a precaution, I only put half of it in your breakfast this morning. It was my fervent hope that you would both eat." The soft lilt in his voice made me think Mr. Sparkly Pants had spent too much time playing with the glue gun.

He dropped his head as if exasperated.
I'm so terribly sorry for wasting your time Mister interrogator, next time I'll make it easier for you to torture me
. He moved slowly as if each action had to be considered in great detail before execution. Reaching into a pocket of his BDSM sparkle coat his hand came back out with a large syringe. Gleaming, orange liquid swirled around inside.
Skeck!
If there was one thing I hated almost as much as Novokins it would be needles.

Before I could protest, he stabbed my arm with the giant spear of a needle. Mr. Fancy Pants pushed the plunger all the way in, sending the fluorescent orange fluid into me. I winced in pain. My mouth launched my feelings at him, "Just what you'd expect from the Novokin Alliance, a little prick."

He cocked his head at me, as if my comment actually offended him. For a judge, jury and executioner type, he was really sensitive, so I told him. He shook his head at my second comment on his character. "I have to say, up until now I was going to applaud you for your exemplary manners Captain, but this aggressive change in your behavior I find it… unsettling."

"Aw, would you like to talk about it?" I pressed, hoping to rile him up. "How badly does it bother you? Maybe you prefer we discussed something else? So tell me, how is your relationship with your mother?"

His spine stiffened. Good I was rattling him. Maybe he’d slip and reveal some sort of weakness. Something I could use.
What the prak?
His wide shoulders were bobbing up and down like he was drilling the road. Julie let out a small giggle at the same time.
Okay, was I on Candid Valurian Vid?

The Novokin interrogator rose to his full height, which might have been quite impressive had I not been used to hanging out with Trex, who is not only taller, but twice as wide in every way that counts.

Goddess did I miss my golden barbarian!
I hope he’s okay and he’s forgiven me. Sadness settled in my heart as our last time together played in my mind. His anguished eyes when I betrayed him haunted me. But there was no way I could have taken him with me.

Mr. Sparkly interrupted my musings as he swung his long bedazzled pleather coat open, revealing a whole host of weaponry.
Whew!
I thought he was going to be naked under there. He closed his coat again, and then moved over to the internal keypad. He punched in a bunch of numbers and gave a code word in what I assumed was his native language. The light on the panel kicked off. Ah, I assumed the actual torture now would begin, since the recording devices had been turned off.

But this purple minsivic eater once again confused me by remaining silent.
Where's his self-important, self-inflated monologue?
Not even the maniacal world conquering pose? How disappointing!
He walked back to the table and began pulling guns, rifles, blades and incendiary devices out of his jacket. He laid them on the table in front of us. As torture devices go, these all seemed a little final. He picked up a plasma knife and approached Julie. My mouth dried to dust.

Oh skeck
.
What the prak was he going to do with her?
The thought of his dirty purple hands on her made my blood boil. I kicked back my chair and stood as much as the manacle around my wrist would allow. "Why don't you unlock me, and we'll see how far you get you purple son of a sleetich!" I taunted.

He stood there, stunned like I had managed to kick him in the gonads. The coward turned to Julie. I wrestled with the manacle, dragging the heavy table with me. The ugly, metal cuff dug into my flesh but I could care less . Adrenaline coursed my veins, putting me in fight or flight response. And today I was choosing fight! I wouldn’t let anything happen to Julie. The sparkly sheetek would die today. “Stay away from her!”

I managed to hoist the table a whole two centmetlars before slamming it down to punctuate my dissatisfaction with the service here. He fired up the blade, before I could micro bounce the table onto his body, he lunged at the placid redhead. In one swift motion he cut her bondage.

Julie smiled and tossed him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Julie”, I croaked. “Not you too.” My heart pounded like a rabid Jaket dog.

In two long strides Julie was by my side. Her gentle hand touched my arm, her voice reassuring, "Captain, it's okay."

Then she reached down the table and released the locking mechanism that kept my wrist bound. My hands remained planted firmly on the table, close to the plasma weapons and I treated our host to my best sneer.

Julie slowly walked back toward our captor, taking the hands of our interrogator into hers. She slid off his left glove. His hand was much larger than hers and held that faint purple hue that signified him as Novokin. The enemy. She maneuvered his hand so it faced outwards towards her, then pressed her own hand against his palm. An easy grin slid across her face. She then reached up and yanked off his mask. As if that wasn't enough, she attempted to devour his mouth.

What started off as a surprise, lazily crept its way into an uncomfortable awkwardness. I couldn’t help but scream silently,
I’m still here.
Hmmm...
I couldn't quite shoot him in the head while he was sucking face with one of my crew members. Which incidentally might be construed bad form. So I coughed. No reaction. So I coughed again, louder this time.

"Captain," Julie pulled away, her cheeks turning a deeper red than the flames of her hair. She intertwined her fingers in those of our interrogator's. "This is Commander Marco," she gushed.

Then I was absolutely sure I had a head injury, because this Novokin just held his hand out for me to shake. "Thank you so much Captain. I had tracked Julie to the ice planet in the Andrenose system where the slavers had snatched her, but then lost her trail. My heart thanks you for rescuing her," he beamed, pumping my hand.

“Somebody please fill me in.” I whined. At this point I was totally lost. Either I had burned an important fuse somewhere when Ass-mot hit me or I was still dreaming. Which might have explained his uniform.

I actually had a Novokin Alliance guard shaking my hand and thanking me for taking care of one of my crew members. On the off chance I wasn’t dreaming, my other hand was playing with one of the shiny, new plasma pistols on the table, trying to keep myself contained.
Ah prak it.
My grip tightened, on the pistol.

"You'll forgive me for being so direct," I chortled. "But tell me why am I not shooting you in the head?"