Separate Ways
Chapter Four

Sasha’s eyes shot open and everything was blurry for a moment. She could see the faint outline of people sitting around her, all facing the same direction. Her head hurt and her wrists were very sore and constricted. A flickering light above her made her jump and her senses returned to her in an instant. The deep swelling of a freighter’s engine could be heard and the whimpering of a young woman beside her seemed like it was a whisper in her ear. For a moment, she forgot where she was but her bound hands reminded her; she had been kidnapped.

With a flash she remembered the man who grabbed her, she remembers hearing her brothers screams and then silence. Had he been killed or captured? She looked around but could not see him anywhere. After searching for her brother she came to the horrifying realization that they were all young women, like her. Her neck was sore and it took some effort to fully turn her head in order to look at the people beside her. The woman to her right was whimpering and her head was draped down, staring at her knees as her long ratty hair covered her face; the woman to her left was staring blankly forward with no emotion.

“What’s going on? Where are we?” Sasha asked her as her voice cracked. Hearing her own voice made her realize how scared she really was. It shook as if she were standing in the midst of an earthquake and she now felt her hands shake equally.

“Hello?” she asked again. The woman did not react to her question. Sasha leaned forward as far as she could to look into the woman’s eyes which may have been a mistake; her eyes were a void of fear and sorrow. They were grey, glossy and bloodshot as if she was highly intoxicated, but they were far more vacant. Lifeless.

The woman’s eyes spoke to Sasha in a deeper way than she could comprehend. Her situation slowly formed from a nightmare to real life and it brought true terror into her as it crept up on her like a shadow with a knife. She began to shake violently and scream for help. Fear had gotten the best of her and was beginning to ravage her like it had likely ravaged the woman beside her. She was praying anybody would come to her aid, but her efforts were in vain.

Loud footsteps stomped behind her and before she could look she felt an immense pain in her head as a powerful hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked it back forcing her gaze upward. Almost from nowhere the man who had taken her from Fares was inches from her face and had a look of ferocity burned on his face.

“I’m gonna tell yah once ’n once only little girl; shut yer mouth before I cut yer tongue out.” He said as he held a serrated blade to her lips. Her lips quivered under the blade as she could feel the cold steel and sharp edge graze it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry but her muscles would not let her move. He threw her head forward and backhanded her before turning and stomping back out of the room.

Her head was spinning. Her cheek was burning from the man’s backhand and the follicles holding her hair were burning. The door slammed shut behind her which made a few of the slaves jump. She now noticed that a few of them were looking back at her, all with glossy red eyes and bags under their stone like eyes. They seemed more like statues than people, stone in their gaze and robbed of all emotion but sadness.

“Where am I? What is going on?” she asked quietly in hopes of the man not returning to punish her for speaking. The girl to her right who was whimpering looked over at her slightly.

“Shut up, you’ll get us all killed.” The woman beside her said through a raspy and aged voice. Sasha noticed that the woman was much older than she had previously presumed; possibly in her late forties which made Sasha wonder how long the woman had been in her position. At that moment the realization of her place in the galaxy hit her with great force. It gave her vertigo, causing her vision to skew and distort and without warning she leaned forward and vomited on the floor in front of her.

She began to wonder if Corvus was coming after her. The possibility that he was killed by soldiers back on Fares was likely, and the odds of him appearing in the dark brown metal doorway at the other end of the room was far from possible. Action needed to be taken and in order for her escape she had to think. She had to get herself off of the chair, and if she could get it off of the ground she could get her hands in front of her. She then knew that ships this large would have at least one escape pod; if she could replace the escape pod her chance for survival would increase.

Cautiously, she slowly rocked the chair she was in back and forth, realizing it was not secured to the floor properly, likely from being used many times before. She wasn’t sure if she could rip the steel chair from the ground but it was old and rusted. It was risky but it was her only option with her arms tied behind her back. She couldn’t get the cuffs off without a key, but she could at least get her hands in front of her. Every few moments or so to make sure the man wasn’t returning she would rock the chair a bit more, and each time she used a bit more force. It would take her a while but she had to commit. She accepted that nobody was coming for her.

About an hour later of struggling she finally got the chair to a point where the grip of the screws was fragile. It was only bolted down with a few screws and was already rocked prior to her being in it which was a revelation of the previous slave’s struggle. She mustered whatever strength she could and clenched her fists getting ready to not only rip the chair out of the ground, but get her arms under the chair, around her feet and in front of her, then get to the escape pods if there was one. It was a long list of things that needed to be done quickly and perfectly. It was do or die.

She examined the chair to see how she could wiggle her arms free. The chairs were oddly shaped but made sense for human trafficking; they were normal steel chairs with two thin bars protruding from the top corners of the back and looping down to the ground. That way they could tie a prisoner’s arms behind them and even if they were double jointed could not bring their arms over their head; but they could go under the chair, if it so happened to be pulled out from the floor.

Preparing herself for the quick escape took a few minutes of collecting her physical, emotional and mental strength but she kept her brother’s face inside of her head. Sasha took in a few deep breaths and before she could jump she looked at the woman to her right again who was intently staring at her and shaking her head as if to inform her that it was a terrible idea. Gazing into those vacant eyes made Sasha relent for a moment. This would surely risk death but as she looked into the woman’s eyes it all became apparent that she would rather die than become the woman who was staring back at her.

With a forceful leap she jumped up and a few screws came loose but one remained. She jumped again without thought and it came free making her plow into the floor. The dry vomit scraped up against her leg and she thought nothing of it as she wrestled her arms free from the chair and then bringing them to her feet. She stretched her arms as long as she could to drag them around the balls of the her feet. Wincing in pain she growled at her arms begging them to stretch just a bit further and after a moment they slid around her feet and her arms were in front of her.

Dead silence within the cabin aside from the rumbling engine. She wasted no time and scrambled to her feet hoping to avoid being caught by her captor. Running over to the door she slammed into the frame, feeling somewhat weak from so much head trauma. She went to fiddle with the controls when the door slid open before her revealing a section of hallway. Looking back at the other slaves she could see discouraged looks. She wasn’t sure if they were asking for her help, or asking her to stop but she knew one thing; she had broken the chair and there was no going back.

She darted into the dark, dingy hallway and looked around frantically at the doorways hoping to replace one that led to an escape pod. The end of the hallway led to another hallway that ran the length of the ship. She looked out the window across from her in the hallway that revealed nothing but the black of space. It was vast and dark but she would take her chances on somebody replaceing her over her previous fate. On the right side of the hallway there were three doors all similar in shape and on the side the windows were on suggesting an escape pod would be installed there. Tiptoeing down the hallway, she approached a large, square red button that beckoned to her. Above the door read Escape Pods, which gave her hope as she reached out for the button.

“You got balls, little girl.” Said a dark, gruff voice which made her heart explode in her chest and causing her to spin rapidly and backing into the wall. In the shadows of a large doorway was her kidnapper, leaned up against the frame of the door with a thick cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a devious grin stretched his handlebar moustache outward. Sasha couldn’t speak or think as her heart fluttered and her hands trembled.

“I tell you what,” he explained, taking a drag of his cigarette, “you can get into that pod and leave. I won’t even chase you.” He said. Sasha was stunned at the seemingly kind gesture. She put her hand over the button without breaking her gaze from the man.

“But before ya do, there is somethin’ you oughta know.” He explained gripping a pipe that lined the door frame now standing up straight and facing her straight on.

“What?” she said, gulping shortly after.

“There is no escape pod, lass.”

“Liar.”

“Go ahead then!” He yelled, “But once ya open that door ’n replace nothin’ but the black of space, it’s gonna suck you out there and there ain’t nuthin’ worse than dyin’ out there, lass.” He said chortling to himself which lead into a thick cough.

Her hand began to shake and for a moment she began to think it was just a lie to get her to somehow give up. If he were right, it wouldn’t be a quick death; it would be gruesome and slow. After all it was a slave freighter and the likelihood that the escape pods had been used many times before was high and he could be telling her the truth. She looked to the window of the escape pod and saw nothing. She quickly turned back to the man and was met with a bulky fist that levelled her to the floor.

The pain was unbelievable. Blood pooled into her mouth and she spat it onto the floor. The man stepped over her and pressed the button she had been reluctant to press which revealed the escape pod that would’ve given her freedom. She felt her body heat up and her stomach churning. He bent over and his powerful hand once again grabbed her by the hair and began dragging her down the hallway and now she began to scream.

“Yer ballsy, but yer stupid!” he yelled. She continued to scream and beg him to let her go.

“We’re passed that, lass!” he yelled as he swung her into the wall beside him. She yelped and let out a long, painful cry. He began to drag her again and passed the slave quarters where she was and opened a door at what seemed to be the back of the ship. Her world was spinning around her and it made her dizzy and nauseous. He threw her into the room and slammed the door behind him. She rolled into the wall with a thunderous thud.

“Yer gonna learn one way or another, that you shouldn’t fuck with me.” he growled as he swung his massive boot into her spine which made her writhe in pain. She continued to beg him as he swung his massive boots into her back and stomach as she rolled around trying to avoid the inevitable. His kick was immense and she felt as if her bones were cracking and her organs were rupturing.

After what seemed like an eternity of the worst pain she’d ever experienced, the door to the room swung open. Her vision was blurry at this point and one of her eyes was swollen shut from a swift kick in the face midway through the beating. There was a faint shape in the doorway that was very tall and almost God-like.

“Borin!” yelled the shape The voice was commanding, but very slithery. Borin stopped beating the girl for a moment and spun around to the tall, man in the doorway.

“What do you want?” asked Borin, growling through his yellow stained teeth. The reptilian man crossed his arms and frowned.

“You’re dumber than you look. A dead girl is no good to us.” He said.

“I’m not gonna kill ’er fish eyes, I’m teachin’er a lesson in respect!” Borin responded.

“Yes, but if she’s all cut up and bruised we’re not going to make any profit off of her!” he responded. The reptilian man was much more well spoken and his voice was almost soothing to Sasha. At this point, anything that stopped Borin’s relentless beatings was a beacon of light. Borin lowered his fist and snarled. There was an intense silence between the two of them and their gaze did not break from one another.

“Fine,” Borin declared, “clean ’er up then, Vik.” He said walking by him and pushing him into the doorframe which was to no avail, as the reptilian man stood his ground. Borin was incredibly strong but the reptilian man was built like a soldier. The door shut behind Borin and the reptilian man looked down at Sasha and shook his head. He rolled her onto her back and sat her up against the wall with his powerful, green scaled arms.

“Thank you.” She said weakly.

“Shut up.” He said abruptly. He dragged her by her arms over to a small metal tub in the corner of the room and picked her up effortlessly. She felt herself being lowered into the cold tub which made her shiver on impact. Cold water suddenly blasted her body and it made her shiver almost instantly but felt invigorating.

“You should not have done that. You are lucky that you are still alive.” He said as he sprayed her down with a hose.

“Why did you stop him?” she asked. The man paused for a moment to think about what answer she should hear as oppose to his real answer. He genuinely felt bad for the slaves when they received that level or treatment but that was the world he lived in and it was nothing new to see it. He decided the safe answer was the best one.

“Because damaged goods, are no good.” He responded. It was bittersweet to hear that answer. She had never been referred to as goods before, but she still felt strangely indebted to the alien. She was in great amounts of pain but both the water and this mysterious creature’s presence lessened the pain. She felt inclined to know more about this man as he was more well spoken than Borin, and obviously was more intelligent and seemingly had a conscience.

“What is your name?” she asked. The question threw him off; he had never been asked that question by a slave. It was oddly nice to hear but he had to remember his place.

“What do you care?” he responded.

“I do care. You saved my life, whether you see it or not.” She said as she held her side which felt like it was burning. She had miraculously not broken any bones in the beating but was aching from head to toe. There wasn’t a part of her body that wasn’t pulsating with pain.

“I didn’t save your life; I simply prolonged your suffering.” He responded coldly. Regardless of his cold reply, there was something different about this man. He was no doubt a slaver and his intents were to eventually sell her to the highest bidder but there was far more to him. One of Sasha’s great talents was reading people and not only that, but being able to talk herself out of any situation. Her brother called her words poison because she could talk him out of any argument or demand hey may have made.

As the man sprayed her down with cold water, and most of the blood had been washed off she began to think of a much more low-key plan. Instead of escaping, she could possibly tug at this man’s heart strings. Perhaps she read into his rescue too far but there were a lot of young girls in the galaxy to sell and surely one more wouldn’t matter. Maybe he was just greedy and wanted every possible penny but he did not seem the type. He looked like a soldier, not a mercenary and he was certainly more intelligent than Borin.

After she was clean he helped her out of the tub and walked her over to a stretcher that was surrounded with a bunch of mechanical arms that held different tools that all looked medical. He laid her down on the stretcher and pressed a button which activated the mechanical arms. A small light ran across her body and she looked over at a wall scanner that had the outline of a body.

“It’s examining your wounds and will fix anything that can’t fix itself.” He explained. She was mesmerized by the machinery but also his generous gesture to tend to her wounds. He walked toward the door and before he walked out he turned back over to her and locked eyes. His eyes were ridden with regret and betrayal but it was so obvious that she felt it was his way of begging her to dig deeper. This man was not here by his own volition and she didn’t know the exact reason, but he hated what he was doing.

“Borin deactivated all of the pain dosages. You’re going to have to experience some intense pain, but your wounds will be fixed.” He explained. She gulped and prepared herself for the painful procedure.

“One more thing,” he said and she gazed over, “My name is Vikurl.” He said. The door shut behind him and the arms began to fix her wounds which was much more painful than she anticipated but she held on. It made her body wince and her muscle contract but the pain was minimal compared to what she’d just encountered. This man wanted to open up whether he knew it or not. Maybe he didn’t know it but it was her only hope and she held onto it as tightly as she gripped the sides of the stretcher, fighting the painful plucks and picks of the mechanical arms.

Vikurl entered the cockpit to see Borin seated in his pilot’s chair. The cockpit was always a filthy mess which Vikurl was sick of cleaning up. It was Borin’s ship and he certainly wasn’t cleaning up after him. There were garbage wrappers and food scraps around his feet and burnt out cigarette buts. The dashboard was plastered with dust and some of the controls were sticky from a number of liquid substances being spilt, primarily alcohol. Unlike the rest of the ship that smelt like a musty old cabin with blood stained carpets and cigarette smoke, the cockpit smelt purely like old cigarette stained clothes and alcohol.

Vikurl wondered how Borin could live in a such a disgraceful mess, but the man was a mess himself. He sat down in his chair which was the only clean item in the cockpit and possibly the entire ship other than his tiny quarters Borin had given him; it was more like a closet but it’s all he needed.

“You forget yer place, fish face.” Borin uttered as a puff of smoke followed the words. Vikurl felt the insult was childish and lack lustre, as usual with Borin so it bounced off of him.

“I’m reptilian, not aquarian you moron.” He responded.

“Whatever, it don’t matter none.” Borin rarely ever had a comeback for Vikurl as his intelligence was much further below his. Borin may have been stupid when it came to speaking, reading and writing but if it had to do with slavery, murder, theft, or any other crime that led to a pay check he was nearly unmatched. Vikurl had many opportunities to outsmart Borin, but if he disappeared or Borin died he would surely be hunted. Besides, there was no more honour left.

Borin had been a slave trader for years, but Vikurl was only on his first few years and was sick of it. It was not his choice but the cards landed in Borin’s hands. Many years before Vikurl was banned from his homeworld for killing a fellow soldier. His intentions, however dishonourable, were justified and surely he would do it again if he were given the chance. He was fit to be one of the Queens-guards on his homeworld of Piersdoghter but was surpassed by a lesser guard who was related to one of the Queens-guard superiors. This infuriated him to no end as the guard below him did not deserve the position; he hadn’t put any work into it and Vikurl had dedicated his life to it.

Vikurl vividly remembers his homeworld and hopes to return one day. The planet had immense forests and mountain ranges but by far the most iconic and memorable feature of the world were the Sky-Spires; massive wooden spires that resembled upside-down trees. They were bushy with thick leaves at the base of the structures but were large and hollow at the top. Many of the civilians of his race named, Khrystrophenes made their homes in these massive spires.

Khrystrophenes were an alien race that rarely left their home world and the ones that did typically had been banished. They were a reptilian species but humanoid in motor functions. They walked on two legs but could run with their hands as their spines bent far enough for them to become four-legged predators. Their vision unlike humanoids was thermal allowing them to see heat signatures which was a great hunting tool, but awful for space travel. Space was cold and it hurt their eyes to look out at space too long.

He imagines returning to his family and the Queen welcoming him back with open arms but that wouldn’t be the case. He was banished and in his culture, banishment from society ruled you an outcast, and outcasts were stripped of their honour and pride. Even his own family wouldn’t offer refuge in fear of following in his footsteps. Vikurl soon fell deep into the crime syndicates in the galaxy as the White Wing Sector did not see aliens as equals. He couldn’t replace a legitimate job and hoped one day he could make his way to Delirium to join the Galactic Federation, but it was a distant dream.

The Federation accepted all races and walks of life as long as they were loyal and could fight; he was the very definition of both. He was a purebred warrior and feared nothing other than failure. Getting to Delirium was easy, in fact he’d pulled many jobs there, but to walk into a military base looking like he did would raise alarms. The Federation was peaceful, but did not like uninvited visitors.

“What happens when we reach Alpha One?” asked Vikurl after a long awkward pause between the two cohorts. Borin rolled his eyes and gazed in Vikurl’s direction, but not locking eyes with him.

“Do what yer best at and shut it.” He said but before he went to take a drag of his cigarette he continued, “In fact, git back there and watch that little rat. I don’t wanna muck up my boots on her face again.” He said as he finished with a hearty chuckle. Vikurl wanted to kill Borin, and not a day went by that the thought didn’t cross his mind on several occasions. It would prove futile because every bounty hunter in the galaxy would be sent after him. His greatest weakness was his loyalty, even to those he hated.

Vikurl stood up, left the cockpit and took a deep breath after leaving having held his breath most of the time he was in there with the vile man. He walked down the long cold halls and peeked into the slave quarters at the handful of slaves who were all dead quiet aside from a soft whimper within the group. Frowning, he hesitantly pulled away from the group and treaded the hallway, following the speckled blood trail that Sasha left in her wake when Borin dragged her. If she only knew what Borin was capable of she wouldn’t have thought about escaping. Most people did not leave the room she was currently in, and the machine that repaired her wounds wasn’t for fixing people. It was for torturing them but Vikurl rigged it for medical use.

The door slid open and he could hear scurrying in the corner of the room. He gazed over and could see Sasha huddled up in the corner more than likely cold and fearing for her life. Her breathing broken up by small cries that were barely muffled by hiding her face in her arms. This wasn’t acceptable. For some reason he felt he owed it to this girl and if he could help her pain for only a moment it would help his pain. He walked over to her and before being gentle he know what needed to be done. She slowly looked up at him and her eyes were red and glossy and most of her larger cuts from Borin’s boots were roughly patched up. He grabbed her and dragged her across the room and tossed her into the wall. The force wasn’t strong enough to really hurt her as he planned. She began to scream and he quickly covered her mouth.

“You’re safe for the moment. Calm yourself, child.” He said calmly to her. After locking eyes with the intimidating looking alien she wasn’t sure what he was about to do, and her eyes were filled with confusion and fear. She was quivering and holding herself fighting to keep herself warm. Dragging her to a far corner of the room, he pressed a button that opened a small cabinet that seemed to be hidden behind the wall. He pulled out a large blanket and wrapped it tightly around Sasha. Following the blanket he pulled out a pair of bland grey shirt and pants. She looked down at them and back at Vikurl.

“You’re going to need to put these on eventually. You may as well do it now before he makes you do it in front of him.” He said as he held them out to her. She nodded and took them. He stood up and took a few steps away and faced away from the young slave. She waited a moment and got up from the cold floor.

“Won’t he question you about this?” she asked as she began to remove her torn and bloody clothing. He looked up at the camera and just enough over his shoulder so she could hear him.

“He can’t see us, that is why I dragged you over there.” He responded while facing forward again. She removed her pants and torn tank top and tossed them on the floor. Goosebumps rose on her arms and back as the cold air from the cabin hit her. She pulled the baggy grey pants up to her waist and tightened the string to her waist and tied it off. She picked up the shirt and slid it over her head and pulled it down to her waist. The outfit was very loose and it felt better than her blood and sweat soaked clothes.

“Okay.” She said quietly as she stood there holding her stomach which growled. Vikurl spun around and looked her up and down noticing the tight grip she had on her stomach.

“You’re hungry?” he asked. She nodded and still wasn’t entirely sure that she could trust the reptilian man. He put his finger up and quickly left the room only to return with a small package. As he stepped toward her he began unwrapping the small brown package. She stepped back against the wall as he approached and he looked up at her without lifting his head.

“I won’t hurt you. I’m not like him.” He said calmly. She kept her muscles tight and backed right up against the cold metal wall. He handed her the package which had dry food portions in the torn package. It was just bread and a strange looking vial with green liquid. She quickly grabbed the bread and began eating it as if it were her last meal. Her hunger was greater than she expected and the fact that this strange man had helped kidnap her and was now helping her was a sign.

“What’s the green stuff?” she asked as she aggressively chewed and swallowed her food. Her eating habits reminded Vikurl of Borin when he ate but he was a pig and she was a slave. She had a reason to shove any food down her throat, as she likely wouldn’t get another meal for a long time.

“Careful, you’re going to choke on your food,” he said, “and the green stuff is a mixture of water from swamps in Sareen and a chemical compound. Do not worry, it tastes awful but it will keep you hydrated.” He finished his explanation and sat down on a small crate by the wall making sure to stay out of the camera’s view. She examined the small green vial and it was hard to believe that such a small amount could keep her rehydrated. She looked over at him expecting more of an explanation of the liquid. He let out a long sigh.

“The minerals in the swamp rehydrate a humanoid faster than other species and the chemicals in the water will help your body keep itself hydrated, at least for a while. Now, like I said it tastes awful so don’t sip it.” He explained further.

Sasha nodded after staring at Vikurl and unscrewed the cap of the vial and sniffed the liquid. It definitely smelled like a mixture of swamp water and cold medicine but she knew she had nothing to lose so she chugged it. The taste was almost unbearable and she almost vomited it up. She gagged on it but shut her eyes and kept it in knowing it would help her. She ate the last piece of bread in order to try and kill the flavour of the green liquid. Tossing the package on the floor she quickly looked up at Vikurl not realizing what she’d done.

“Leave it. I don’t care.” He said under his breath. She timidly walked over and sat beside Vikurl on the crates and looked up at the man who was easily twice her size in height and muscle. She wanted to touch his scaled green skin but felt it would be not only rude but awkward.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked. Vikurl looked down at the battered teenager who was far more sane than he anticipated.

“Unlike that pig, I care.” He responded.

“How can you do this for a living and say you care?” she asked. Vikurl’s face scrunched up but it was a sound question. A question that truly made him think. He was forced to do what he was doing. Honour was a large part of his culture but he wasn’t a Khrystrophene anymore; there was no more honour or pride in his heart. He was just an outcast; a castaway that nobody in the universe would give the time of day to, except this teenage girl.

“I don’t have a choice. I’m a prisoner of my own poor decisions if you must know.” He responded after a moment. He found he was being far too open with this girl and stood up to leave the room.

“We’re all a prisoner of our decisions. They’re called consequences. It doesn’t mean you can’t make a change.” She said. This stopped Vikurl in his tracks and he looked down at the girl wanting to slap her to keep her quiet. She covered her face and tensed up. Slowly lowering his hand he growled under his breath which sounded more like a slithering hiss. He was being picked apart by this young girl and if he wanted to keep himself alive he needed to stop her in her tracks. He wanted to care but he needed to not care. This was his life now.

“Keep quiet and don’t leave this room.” He said quickly turning away and leaving the room in a hurry. Sasha stared at the door and picked the blanket up off the floor to cover herself. Wrapping it around herself she pushed out a tiny smile. She was so close to getting into his head and she needed to keep her cool and avoid escape no matter how enticing the situation looked to her. His weakness had been revealed to her in one short conversation and if she wanted to get out of this alive she had to pluck at it. Vikurl did not want to do what he was doing and more importantly, he cared.