Page 10 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 10

“W ho are you?” I ask, the relief rising in my chest as a small human woman in the Planetary Police uniform walks into my cell.

“Officer Neve McCoy,” she responds, her tone cool and professional.

Frownzilla grunts, stepping back from the cell, his eyes narrowing as he scans the room. He’s a huge, imposing figure, and the fact he’s so suspicious makes me wary. Once the officer is in the middle of my cell, he locks us both in.

McCoy is small and delicate compared to Frownzilla. She approaches my messy bed in a pristine Planetary Police uniform. Her eyes are a piercing blue and look cold and clinical as she assesses my cell. Even her red hair pulled into a tight professional bun adds to her authoritative air.

She doesn’t speak, removing a datapad from her briefcase, and I don’t fill the silence. But I’m waiting with anticipation to see if this woman will help me. So far, her expression is impassive, her lips pursed into a thin line. Her entire demeanor screams authority, her posture perfect, her uniform crisp and neatly pressed. I know, without a doubt, that she is not to be trifled with.

I really hope she’s on my side.

“Ms. Williams, I’m here to discuss the details of your case. It aligns closely to another I’m investigating,” she begins, her voice brisk and efficient.

“Why are we talking in my cell and not in an interview room? How did you even know I was here?”

“I considered that, but I doubted you would want to be to paraded past those other cell occupants? I know what that kind of attention brings. They’d all be lining up to try to touch you, feel your skin, your hair. I doubt that would be pleasant.”

I shiver at the thought, bile rising in my throat.

“No, thank you. Here is fine.” I move to the far wall across from the viewport that looks out into the galaxy. It’s some comfort and I try to enjoy it as much as I can.

McCoy nods, her eyes scanning the cell before returning her attention to her datapad.

“So, are you investigating my case? You’ve not much time — my trial is tomorrow. Have you found the real criminal yet?”

McCoy’s gaze is cool and assessing, her expression giving nothing away.

“I’m sure the investigation is being handled by our Special Crimes team. I’m here because your case may be connected to mine. And in order to achieve justice, I’m going to need your cooperation.”

Panic rises in my chest. “Who is investigating my case then, if it’s not you? Why haven’t they been speaking to me? Do they know who caused the explosion?” I blurt, unable to contain my questions.

McCoy holds her hands up in a calming gesture, her expression remaining neutral. “There are certain protocols that have to be followed,” she explains, her voice measured and calm.

Her words do nothing to ease my fear.

“What are the chances they’ll find the culprit and get me out of this hellhole before the trial tomorrow?”

McCoy purses her lips, her gaze assessing. A look passes over her face, the briefest flicker of something I can’t quite identify.

“I’m not in a position to answer that, Tasha. I’m not working on your case as I’m with the Planetary Police Corruption Unit, and I’m investigating a separate crime. Your case and mine may be connected, which is why I need your cooperation. Can I rely on you for that?”

Corruption? Well, it definitely sounds like my case is linked to something bigger.

I eye McCoy warily, the nagging suspicion that there’s more to her story than she’s letting on. Still, the idea of having an ally, especially one who has the authority to access me here, is reassuring... if she can even help me.

“How are they connected? I have no idea who sabotaged the High Chieftains ship. I’m being framed and I know it! How are my case and yours linked?”

McCoy lets out a breath, the faintest trace of a frown furrowing her brow.

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, as I wait... hoping for something, an answer to why I’m here, or better yet, how she can get me out.

“I can’t share too much, but it’s important you know I’m trying to help you. Your trial will be overseen by two judges, one of which is the Seraphim Ambassador Jha’ril. What do you know of him?”

The mention of the Seraphim Ambassador makes me pause, memories of his accusations in the engineering dock are still raw. His oily black feathers and snarled face are hard to forget.

“Nothing really. I’m an engineer. I don’t concern myself with any of the STI politics,” I sigh, never imagining I would have to care. “He was there when I was accused of sabotage in the engineering dock, though. Is that a conflict of interest?”

Hope flares inside me. If I could get the trial postponed...maybe there is a possibility of a proper investigation. I know I would be found innocent given a chance.

“Ambassador Jha’ril is the only Seraphim on Orion Outpost,” McCoy reveals, her voice lowering an octave. “It is part of the Orion Treaty that one of their ambassadors must sit on every trial. In this case, he has chosen to oversee yours. Has he had any contact with you before the explosion?”

I rack my brain, trying to recall the interaction with the Seraphim. It’s not like we’re friends, so why would he be interested in me?

“No, I never met him until the day of the explosion. After it happened, a few STI leaders appeared.” I shrug, “Is it a conflict of interest that he’s on my case then? Can I wait until another seraphim is available?”

McCoy purses her lips, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“The Seraphim Ambassador is an important political figure,” she explains, her tone tight and clipped. “They don’t just show up anywhere, and when they do, it’s a big deal. There’s no conflict of interest since he arrived after the explosion. So, if I were you, I would not be questioning his authority. You will need his favor.”

“You think he will push for my exile... or execution?”

McCoy’s expression tightens, the lines around her eyes deepening.

“I don’t know what his plans are, Tasha. But it would be wise not to anger him.”

I nod, biting back the bitter retort on the tip of my tongue. The last thing I want is a death sentence, but the possibility of exile on a penal colony is not appealing either.

“Well, what do you want to know then? How can I help?” I finally relent, resigned to the fact that the trial will go ahead.

“I need to know what happened at the engineering dock. Who was there, what was said, everything you can remember? If there is a connection between your case and mine, then I need to find it.”

“But my advocate and the Orion Outpost officers already took my statement.” I counter, frustrated at the way this discussion is going.

“I’m conducting an independent investigation, and I need to hear your answers directly. This is very important, Tasha.”

“Fine,” I concede, letting out a sigh.

I recount the events at the dock, my voice echoing off the cold cell walls.

“So, I’m being framed for attempted assassination is how I ended up here,” I retort, my frustration building.

McCoy nods, her expression betraying nothing.

“And why do you believe you’re being framed, Ms. Williams?”

“Because, like I said before, the explosion didn’t happen until after I’d left the dock. I double checked all my work, it was sound, and then when I went to the food hall, the ship was fine. Why would I even want to sabotage a ship? I needed that repair job to get qualified, not blow it up!”

“Indeed. So, let me ask you, how do you know you were the last person to check the ship? How can you be certain you didn’t miss anything? Or overlook something? What if there was a timer set on the device?”

My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together as I struggle to hold back my anger.

For the next hour, I go repeatedly over what happened in the engineering dock. Answering every question McCoy has about who was there, what was said, etc.

But it makes no difference.

My hands are shaking, nerves course through me as I pace the confines of the cell. My relief at seeing the Planetary Police officer, and another human female, is fading fast. I can’t stop pacing, the tension twisting inside me as I wait for her to speak. I need her to have good news, something that can help me.

“I’m telling the truth,” I insist, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But you can’t prove it,” she counters, her tone matter-of-fact.

My shoulders sag as the last traces of hope are crushed.

“And now, I have to sit here and wait until you investigate your corruption case while I’m stuck in jail with a vile, slimy Corsairian lawyer?”

McCoy gives me a sympathetic look, her eyes softening a fraction.

“It’ll take time for me to get to the bottom of this. With the people involved, we all have to be careful. This is a delicate situation and needs the utmost discretion.”

My fists clench in frustration at her words, but McCoy continues, watching me closely.

“From what you’ve told me, I doubt you will be found innocent, but I’m hopeful you won’t be executed. Exile is the most likely possibility. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head, her words ringing hollow. Exile is a fate worse than death. A lonely existence where I’ll never have a life, a family. I can’t hold back my frustration. The anger bubbling up like a volcano, the heat of it burning through my veins. My life is ruined, and this woman can’t even give me an ounce of hope.

“What are you going to do then? Just sit there? Do something, anything! Please,” I plead, my voice breaking.

McCoy takes a deep breath, her expression a mask of professionalism.

“Tasha, I will do everything in my power to help you. But the truth is, there is not much I can do right now. I’ll follow every lead, every angle, and see where it takes me. But, until then, I would strongly advise you to cooperate with your advocate. Just play the game, and I’ll do the same. It’s the only way. I’ll keep digging into this, I promise.”

Her words do nothing to placate me. The pitiful reality of my fate is unavoidable.

“This isn’t fair. This can’t be happening! You can’t do anything, but I’m the one in jail. But you’ll go home, get to eat and sleep in a comfortable bed, but I have a vile advocate who wants me as his sex slave, and a hard bed to sleep on. You have it easy. I’m the one risking execution here. Don’t forget that. You have no idea what the hell it’s like in here!”

Anger surges within me, the pressure building until I feel like I might explode. My heart pounds in my chest, the rapid beat echoing in my ears. I’m on the verge of hysteria, the fear and frustration overwhelming me.

“You need to calm down, Tasha. I understand that this is a stressful situation, but you have to stay focused,” McCoy reassures me, her expression earnest.

As much as I want to believe her, I can’t help but doubt her words. Everything is stacked against me, and there’s no guarantee that the trial will go my way. “I can’t calm down,” I choke out, the emotion welling up within me.

“My life is ruined. Even if the trial goes well, I’ll still be exiled. Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I bite out, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

My life really is ruined. With a criminal record, I’ll be kicked off Orion Space Station. I’ll never work with machines again. I can’t go back to Venturis. The shame would kill my mother or I’ll be an exile at best. And I’ve heard of what those penal colonies are like. I won’t last a month there.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words catching in my throat. I can’t fight back the tears anymore, the dam breaking, hot tracks of moisture trailing down my cheeks.

“Oh, Tasha,” McCoy says, her voice filled with empathy.

She wraps her arms around me, and the gesture is so unexpected, so tender, that I can’t help but collapse against her. I sob against her shoulder, the fear and despair flowing out of me in a torrent of emotion.

We stand like that for what seems like an eternity, her arms wrapped around me, her presence comforting amid my turmoil. I cling to her, drawing strength from her resolve.

“Thank you,” I murmur, pulling away, a slight smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“You said your advocate wants you as his sex slave? That is a serious violation,” she says, her brows furrowing.

“Said he needs motivation to do a good job... made me sign a waiver, so I’m stuck with him. Not that it matters much now, anyway.”

McCoy’s expression darkens, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“He’s threatened you? That is a serious crime, Tasha,” she declares, her voice laced with righteous indignation.

“As you say, my trial is tomorrow. I’m not flush with options, am I? I’m expecting him back any minute to demand me to fuck him or I’ll end up with an execution sentence. I don’t have much choice in the matter.”

I know it is reckless snitching on my advocate, but I don’t care. Everyone wants trying to fuck me over, literally in his case.

“It’s too late to get you set up with another advocate, but I can prevent him from accessing your cell without a guard present. Will that be acceptable?”

A wave of relief washes over me, the tension in my body releasing.

“Yes, yes, that will be fine.”

“Good, then I’ll have a word with the guard. You may be alone in your cell for the rest of the night, but I’ll ask for a guard to be stationed outside your door until your trial. That should keep the advocate at bay. I suspect there will be a crowd at the trial, and I would bet it will be enough motivation for him to perform well.”

“Thank you,” I reply, the gratitude welling up within me.

“Just hang in there, Tasha. Everything will work out,” she reassures me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze.

Her words are hollow, but the gesture is comforting.

“I hope I’ve helped a little with your case. Please, at least, make all this mean something.”

“You have no idea,” she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave, a shadow crossing her face.

She puts away her datapad, and stands straighter, picking off invisible fluff from her sleeve.

“Tasha, you have helped a lot more than you realize. I have to go, but I’ll be back before your trial. Don’t worry about that Corsairian.”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a metal flexicard, and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask, accepting the small item. It’s cold and solid in my palm.

“It’s my contact details for a private comms channel. You can reach me if you need to. Don’t give it to anyone else.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just stay safe, okay?”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Oh, and Tasha? If anyone comes in here and asks about our conversation, you have no idea who I am, and I didn’t tell you anything.”

With that, she turns and strides towards the cell door, her steps purposeful, her posture impeccable. With her gaze fixed on the door, and knocks twice.

Frownzilla lets her out, then slides it shut with a resounding thud, leaving me alone once again.

The sound reverberates through the cramped space, and I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine. My mind is abuzz, a whirlwind of questions and fears swirling within me.

I look down at the flexicard, the cold metal a stark reminder of the harsh reality of my situation. There’s still no guarantee I’ll get out of this. And now, all I can do is hope, and pray, that Officer Neve McCoy is who she says she is. If Droilin can’t help me, then maybe, just maybe, this human can.