“Thanks, but it’s not necessary. The fever is only a mild one. It will pass.”
Too freakin
’
bad
. He’d have paid to see Brianna get her pussy licked. Without Brianna around though, he’d stand a better chance of getting out of here. He needed to find Lift 6. He had a connection to make, while there was still time.
Brianna rushed from the room and down the corridor, trying not to think about Briggs or her own needs, for now. More important matters were pending. Besides, he wasn’t going anywhere. She could deal with him later. Provided Xylon had a later…
She met the red-haired Warrior at the entry, realizing she didn’t even know either of the females’ names. They weren’t wearing IDs. She’d only known their rank from the markings on their uniforms. If they came through this attack in one piece, she’d find out who they were and see their files credited for the responsibility they’d shown to their duties. “Progress report?”
“I couldn’t establish communications, but I think they’re almost through.” She raised her voice over the noise of the equipment on the other side. “They sound close.”
At that moment, the panel slid open a few inches.
“Break!” a male voice from the other side ordered.
Feeling a huge sense of relief, Brianna rushed to the opening. She turned sideways and tried to squeeze through. “Hold it open!” she ordered, when the panel tried to slide back closed on her. “Damn it.” If she got stuck, the heavy panel would crush her to death.
“Holding!” the tech responded.
With some help from the crew, she popped out the other side. Thank goodness.
She’d be covered with bruises come morning. Because of her self-healing abilities, they shouldn’t last long though. She coughed at the dust hovering in the air. “Good work, guys,” she said to the techs who’d freed her.
Three of the five members of her security team awaited her. Each person looked at her anxiously. “I’m fine,” she answered, even before any of them asked. “You all should have been dispersed to other areas by now.”
“We were ordered to stay and get you out safely,” her lead officer replied. “Egesa have breached Lair security. Just a few moments ago, we found the one who’d registered on your hand tracker earlier. Two of the team took him to the holding area.
More are inside. Periodically, we’ve seen hits register on our handhelds.”
“Have you reported the breach to Command?”
“We’ve been trying to contact them, but communication keeps going out.”
“Fine. We’ll report in person then. We need to get back up to Command Center fast.
Let’s go!”
Kam’s eyelids, feeling heavy and not completely under his control, cracked open, but only after great effort on his part. He felt as if he’d slept for days. If so, he’d missed his timeline, damn it. He struggled to move, but his limbs refused to cooperate.
His nose picked up a whiff of something soft and feminine. Where was he?
When his eyes fully opened and began to focus, Frost’s face solidified in front of him. Beautiful, but not the face he wanted to see. The sight of her brought everything crashing back with more clarity than he cared to remember.
He’d been dreaming of his parents on Tamara, whom he hadn’t seen in too long.
Everything he’d always believed about his family had crumbled into nothing, sending his emotions into turmoil. If what Laszlo told him prior to this mission proved true, many lives, not only his own, would be affected.
He mentally shook the thoughts aside. Later, he’d deal with the information he’d learned. Now was not the time to dwell on things he couldn’t investigate further, even if they had the potential to completely change his future.
Thoughts of the future also brought back the memory of his more erotic dreams…about Halah. He wondered if those images in his head could be true visions.
Breeder-mate visions. The obstacles they’d need to overcome to join together as mates would be tremendous. The images might simply have been brought on by his orders.
Nothing more.
Prior to receiving the orders, well, he had no explanation for his visions of her then.
Guilt maybe, for not helping her when he should have, might have transformed his feelings into something physical in his mind. Or maybe he simply wanted to fuck the woman. Whatever the reason, he preferred to return to her and those dreams, rather than face his current reality.
He needed to find out how long he’d been unconscious.
Aggravated, he almost reached out and grabbed Frost around the neck, until he again thought of the mission. Off schedule or not, he still had a duty to perform. He was alert enough to tell he no longer lay in the re-initiation room, for he felt a large, fluffy bed underneath him, instead of that uncomfortable flat mattress from before.
“How do you feel?” Frost asked.
Lousy. When he tried to voice his response, nothing came out. For a panicked moment, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Helplessness coiled inside him. He forced air in and out of his lungs until he felt secure that his life wasn’t slipping away. He didn’t like feeling weak and vulnerable, and he knew better than to show it, especially to someone like Frost.
“Take it slow.”
What the hell was wrong with him? His throat felt on fire. Had they done the implant already? He couldn’t remember. His head pounded fiercely. They were supposed to give him their specialized medicine to stop this pain. That was the deal. If they went back on their promise, he’d make sure they paid. He needed that medicine to survive. Without something to permanently ease his pain, he feared he truly would go insane. Even if he just got a sample, he could hand the formula over to Leila to test and synthesize.
“The re-initiation went well. Quite entertaining, as a matter of fact. You’ve got great tongue control, Kam. I grew so wet watching you.” She smiled and brushed his mouth with her fingertips. “We’ll process the information you gave us, to make sure everything checks out.”
He couldn’t have been out for long, if they hadn’t confirmed the codes yet.
“Your throat will be sore for a while. That’s normal, so don’t worry about it. The pain you’re feeling will ease. You should be able to talk soon. By the way, if you lied to us,” she leaned closer and lowered her voice, “we’ll destruct the implant and you’ll be dead. Just so you know.” She kissed him lightly on the lips.
The kiss distracted him, but only for a moment. He’d given them the information.
That was part of the plan, but what exactly had he said? He couldn’t remember anything. Whatever they shot him up with had totally put him out of his senses. He hoped he hadn’t told them too much.
Frost stepped back and smiled down at him. “If the codes check out, we’ll provide you with your own personal sex toy, Kam. Consider it an added bonus. A perk we give to certain Agents who have done well.”
Sex toy? He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about a cock ring or mechanical fucker or some other sort of sexual device.
“I think you’ll like our selection of females.”
Ah…females. Female sex slaves. He should have known. The majority of females on the Sand Moon became slaves to some faction, unless extremely strong-willed with some sort of backing, like Frost.
“Someone will return later to escort you down to Pleasures.”
Whatever. Presently, he had more important things on his mind than sex.
Frost ran her hand down his body. His cock didn’t react. He’d been through too much. At least they’d put his uniform back on, so he didn’t feel on complete display to Frost’s sexual whims. When he showed no reaction to her touch, she sighed, turned, and strolled out of the room.
Good. He needed time alone. As soon as he felt assured she was gone and not coming back, he sat up on the bed.
Pain
. He swallowed, and even more pain shot through him. He groaned, but the sound came out more like a squeak. Every part of his body hurt.
An image of his throat being blown open entered his mind. Not pretty. He’d thought they would wait to check his information first before doing the implant.
He glanced around and spotted a time gauge. He’d only slept a few hours. He puffed out a relieved breath. Still on schedule.
The room they’d put him in, he noted, was decorated with subdued colors and sparse furnishings. A combination living and sleeping area, and a food section. The quarters looked a lot like his own quarters in the Lair. That fact bothered him, as if they’d purposely tried to copy a place familiar and comfortable to him. He didn’t want to feel comfortable here.
This facility lay deep underground, like the re-initiation room. He could feel the fresh air being pumped in, and this room did have huge picturescapes hanging on the walls, unlike the stark re-initiation room. The quarters contained three picturescapes, all desert images, all motionless at the moment. But he saw the control buttons on each frame.
He didn’t feel any different, physically or emotionally, other than the pain and being tired. Nor did he notice any differences as far as his thought processes went.
Hopefully, that meant he remained his own person and hadn’t been converted. He pushed to his feet and plodded into the bathing room.
Stopping in front of the mirror, he stared at his reflection. He wasn’t exactly sure how the conversion process worked. His eyes looked the same. Light blue. No signs of evil or madness. He almost laughed at the thought that he’d be able to spot anything wrong in his own eyes. How could he know for certain, one way or the other?
His blond hair looked a little darker. Probably just needed a wash—the sand blew continuously on the surface, making everything in its path gritty. He checked his hands.
Fingernails hadn’t grown. He stuck his tongue out. Not green or forked or anything. No fangs. He knew these checks were foolish. Agents weren’t minions or Egesa, and a person’s genetics didn’t change after a conversion, but still he felt compelled to check.
Just in case.
He wasn’t yet brave enough to check his cock. Once he felt on firmer emotional ground, he’d make sure everything remained functional. He remembered getting injected. Damn that minion bitch! He shuddered at the memory, hoping he hadn’t suffered any permanent damage.
Still studying his face, he dragged his hands down his rough cheeks. He needed a shave, but didn’t see any gear on the counter. Only a glass sat on the sink. He filled it with cool water and drenched his throat. The liquid felt good going down.
Maybe he could find a subtle way of asking how they determined a successful reinitiation. A definitive test must exist.
He tried his voice again, but still nothing came out. Between his throat, his head, and his aching cock, he felt like shit. Regardless, he needed to move on to the next phase. He needed to find Halah.
* * * * *
A blast of water hit her. “Ack!” Halah turned her back, trying to shield her body.
Assholes
. She held the rags they’d dressed her in against her body, trying to prevent them from being ripped off her from the pressure.
One of their Special Transport Agents or Prison Pilots must be coming. Hose baths were only given when a ranking Marid came to the moon looking for a new slave.
When the guards weren’t around, she’d asked a few questions of one of the other women, who seemed more talkative than the rest.
Some of the slaves actually vied to be chosen when an Agent or Officer appeared, the woman had said. Halah could understand why, she supposed. From what she’d heard, regular clothes were provided, hot food, a real bed. Perks.
Still, she wanted none of it. She’d rather rot in this cage, eating dried tecarra beans the rest of her life, than give in to some bastard’s sexual demands. No matter her situation, her training as a Warrior still ran deep. Neither Daegal nor the Egesa had turned her yet, only enslaved her. Only—probably not the right word.
Enslavement made her torture complete. Why they hadn’t forced a re-initiation on her, she didn’t know. Apparently, they didn’t give much credence to females. Even though several females held a top position in their society. Interesting actually. And confusing. Even after all the time she’d spent on Marid, she still hadn’t been able to figure out their society or its rankings. Maybe someday she’d discover the reason.
But regardless of the reason for non-conversion, she’d decided not to serve anyone other than herself anymore. Her alliance was no longer up for sale. She treasured her freedom of choice too much.
While temporarily living on Marid, she remembered seeing many Agents with slaves in the processing area. She wasn’t certain how many were actually kept for personal service, instead of being assigned to other areas. She knew none of them were well-treated—she’d heard enough horror stories. The Xylon Warriors she’d helped had masqueraded as her captives and slaves while they’d gathered the information they needed and acquired a sample of Daegal’s sterilization formula for study. She couldn’t help but wonder if they’d found a way to counteract its effects.
The water stopped, and she swiped the hair out of her face. She glanced down at her body. Not too much damage, thank goodness. Once your clothes no longer held together, you walked around naked, unless some Agent or Officer or maybe a guard took pity and provided a new outfit.
If she ever had to walk around naked, like some of the women here, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Her body was fit and would draw too much attention. Not that she was so perfect, but even the limited training she still engaged in kept her more in shape than the other women appeared. The Egesa, especially, seemed drawn to tighter-bodied females—probably because they proved more durable during sex. At least now, she could somewhat cover up with the short skirt-like bottom and sleeveless top she wore.
Obviously pelts, although she didn’t recognize the type of hide.
She missed her black jacket, vest top, and leggings. Never again would she take her garments for granted. They’d helped her feel powerful, and not like some submissive.
Her hair barely touched her shoulders and curled naturally around her face and neck, so if she did find herself naked at some point, she couldn’t even drape the curls over her breasts, as she remembered Leila Abdera doing when forced to go topless into the Dome’s processing area. She definitely needed a change of luck here. Something had to break soon, and she suddenly and uncharacteristically feared, if she didn’t get out of this cage, that “something” might be her.
* * * * *
Frost contacted Daegal with the news about Kam. “He’s given us all the new access codes to the computers, control panels, everything they changed since your last data collection. Along with the preliminary codes we’d already obtained, and the special base codes I was able to gain access to years ago, which cannot be modified, we should be able to take complete control.”
Daegal laughed. “Perfect. The new codes checked out?”
“So far. We’re causing some major havoc over in the Lair, as we continue to test.
They won’t know what’s going on nor have time to stop our sabotage before your troops overrun their surface patrols. It’ll keep them busy enough for the Egesa and Agents to get past their last line of defense and assume control of the underground facility. Some of your people should have already breached their internal defenses.”
“I haven’t gotten in any reports, but I’ll have the Top Commander check on their progress. We’ll keep teams on the planet surface to maintain control of the civilians.
Spread terror in the cities, while we have the chance. Anyone who resists capture will be killed. I’ll be sending many of the captives your way for enslavement, so be prepared. Go ahead and reward Kam for the information.”
“Already in progress.” She’d sent Rave to handle the situation. Keeping the former Warrior sexually satisfied should make the man easier to control.
“Does Kam believe he’s still loyal to Xylon?”
“He’s unable to speak right now because of the implant, but he should believe so.
No side effects will plague him. He’ll think their feeble attempt to save him from the conversion process worked.” Daegal had somehow found out about the formula the Lair developed. His prophetic power seemed almost eerie at times. He must have a plant on the inside. That’s the only thing that made sense to her.
“Good. When he makes contact with Laszlo, they’ll distribute the formula to all their Warriors and attempt to distribute the formula to those who are serving me and the Dome, hoping they’ll turn their loyalty back to the Lair. Their efforts will be a waste of time, make them overconfident, and easily defeated. That’s when we’ll conduct our final strike and squash them into permanent submission. You left him his hidden communication device, right?”
“Yes. The mini-cell didn’t register on our detectors. They did an excellent job concealing its electronics. While he slept, I found the device built onto his wrist sensor and shielded by a chunk of titum plating, just where you told me to look. How will they distribute the formula, do you think?” Distribution, at the scale needed, took time and manpower.
“In our food sources, I would imagine. But don’t worry. The substance is harmless.
Our researchers thoroughly tested the sample of Kam’s blood and semen you sent to the moon’s underground lab to make certain. Our new formula counteracts theirs.
We’re a step ahead of them, and we need to stay there. Did you install the tracker on his communication module, so we know when he informs Laszlo of his supposed success?”
“Yes. It’s done. I’ll send you regular reports on any communication we track. How did you know about his plans to begin with, Daegal? And how do you know Laszlo is heading all this up?” She needed to ask. The information could save her own life in the future.
“I have my sources, my dear. Always remember that. So don’t get any ideas about ever going up against me. My eyes see everything.”
He let the veiled threat hang, giving her no specifics. She shuddered and knew she needed to be careful around Daegal. This man was no fool.
“Has Rave shown up on the moon?” he asked her after a few moments of tense silence.
“Um, no. I haven’t seen her.” He asked each time they communicated, so she didn’t read any more into the question than his normal check. She needed Rave on her side and wasn’t about to turn the woman over to Daegal for whatever infraction she’d apparently carried out against him. Rave hadn’t confided the details to her, only promised information and loyalty in exchange for safety.
Her own people were already loyal to her, so she didn’t worry they’d go to Daegal behind her back. Daegal should have no reason to suspect her of lying. Still, the man worried her. She needed to make certain of her own safety in case he somehow did uncover her plot.
Move and countermove—a game of survival and power. That’s what she lived for.
That had been her life for years now. Fortunately, her skills had served her well.
“Keep watch. If she shows up, I want her. Alive. Now…the control inside Kam’s implant is functional?” he asked her.
“Yes. With the flip of a switch, we can free him, control him, or kill him. He’ll do our bidding whenever we need him to. He can’t fight it and won’t remember most of his actions while under our control.”
The promise of Sonic powers was simply a ploy. The final test of their newest toy.
The implant, once proven a success, would be surgically inserted in all Agents as Daegal’s ultimate way of controlling the higher-evolved beings who served him. Only proven loyalists would be exempt from the device. He’d reign supreme, just as he’d always planned. Or so he believed…
“Well done, Frost.”