Page 13 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 13

I curse Garrox for making me leave in the middle of Tasha’s trial, but I know I have to find a way to save her. I won’t let her suffer the same injustice my father did.

The High Chieftain wants me to ensure our replacement transport is ready for immediate departure once her sentence is decided.

My gut clenches. I shouldn’t be here in the engineering zone, I should be in the courtarium. As I reach the docking bay, I find the transport ship prepared and a small crew already assigned to fly us back to Morcrest.

“Where is Kyor Drakonforge?” I ask, looking around the quiet engineering dock.

“Not here. I heard he was called to the big trial. Something about a witness testimony.” A young Muspel male replies.

I nod, the pieces fitting together. Of course, Garrox would have called Kyor as a witness.

I make my way to the transport ship, a feeling of dread building within me. The weight of Tasha’s situation presses on me. I need to hurry. There’s no time to waste.

Our replacement ship is a simple vessel, meant for hyper travel. As I check the exterior, the engines look to be in reasonable condition, but the hull has some dents and scratches, only cosmetic issues. I hurry on, focusing on the more pressing matter at hand, uncovering the truth behind the sabotage and Tasha’s innocence.

Inside the ship, the interior is a little more cramped. The main room contains a seating area, with a few tables, a replicator, and a kitchenette. At the far end, a door leads to the crew quarters, with narrow bunk beds. As I examine the interior, everything seems in working order. The only actual issue is the lack of space.

I head to the bridge, and as I step inside, I’m struck by the size of the room. The walls are lined with consoles and monitors, each displaying different data, a constant stream of information. I gaze down to the control panel, relieved to see no weird symbol on the board like the last time, no general feeling of being watched.

I’m about to leave the bridge when I hear a rustling noise behind me. I spin, ready to fight, my body tense. Quickly, I scan the room, looking for any sign of an intruder or threat.

There’s nothing, only the soft hum of the engines, the constant whirring of the life support system. I strain my ears, listening for any sign of movement.

Still, nothing.

I’m probably imagining things, my nerves getting the better of me.

Satisfied the ship is set for departure, I inform the crew to be ready and rush back to the courtarium. I may have missed some of Tasha’s trial, but I won’t stop fighting to prove her innocence.

I race through the halls of the engineering zone, my footsteps echoing. This section of the outpost feels still and empty, but if I look closer at workstations and side rooms, I see various species glued to datapads, or sharing screens. No one wants to miss the verdict.

I quicken my pace, my strides eating up the distance, my muscles burning, the adrenaline spurring me on.

Finally, I near the courtarium; the clangor growing. I race to the doors, the noise of the crowd filling my ears, and as they slide open. I’m greeted by a wall of sound, the din overwhelming.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my voice drowned out by the noise.

The crowd’s attention is focused on the podium where the judges are seated, but they’re obscured by a sea of heads and horns and tentacles. I grab the arm of the nearest guard and repeat the question.

“Tasha Williams was found guilty. She’ll be executed by airlock.” he grunts, his expression impassive.

I feel a stab of pain in my chest. I’ve failed you, Tasha.

“How long until the execution?” I ask, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

“One standard day,” the guard replies, his tone gruff

I have to do something.

Releasing the guard’s arm, I make my way to the observation gallery, elbowing my way through the crowd. I can’t believe it; the news is hard to comprehend.

When I reach the front, I’m shocked at the number of spectators. I’ve never seen a room so crowded. The gallery is packed, every seat taken, and there’s a line of people waiting to exit now the verdict has been given.

I search the room, looking for Tasha, but the throng of bodies blocks my view.

Then I spot a familiar figure in the crowd. Trexton Humbrage. The Corsairian stands at the side of the judges section, a smirk on his lips.

My rage boils beneath my skin as I storm towards the Corsairian, my footsteps pounding against the ground like a war drum. I saw enough of the trial to know he did nothing to help her, standing idly by while she suffered.

“Why in the void didn’t you defend her?” I growl, my voice a low rumble.

Trexton shrugs, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Who are you? And what gives you the right to talk to me that way? She’s a terrorist, and she deserves her fate.”

I can’t hold back.

I seize his collar in an iron grip, my knuckles turning pale green from the force, and slam him against the wall with a resounding thud. No one pays attention, the crowd too engrossed in the drama of the verdict.

I drag Trexton into a secluded corner, away from prying eyes. The Corsairian struggles against my grip, but I overpower him with ease, my anger fueling my strength.

“You call yourself an Advocate?” I snarl, my face inches from his. “You barely put up a fight! It’s like you wanted her to be found guilty!”

Trexton’s eyes narrow, his smirk disappearing. “I did my job, Morcrestian. The evidence was clear. She’s guilty.”

His words ignite a fury within me, and before I can stop myself, my fist connects with his jaw. Trexton’s head snaps back, and he stumbles, but I don’t let go of his collar. I punch him again, this time in the gut. Trexton doubles over, gasping for air.

“I don’t know what your game is, Humbrage, but I won’t let Tasha pay for your incompetence.” I lean in close, my voice a menacing whisper. “If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

Trexton’s eyes widen, a flicker of fear crossing his face. “You’re making a mistake. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

I release my grip, and Trexton slumps against the wall, clutching his stomach. I lean in close, my face contorted with rage.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a defender, Humbrage. A spineless worm who preys on the vulnerable.” I spit in his face, watching with satisfaction as he flinches.

As I turn to leave, my fists clenched at my sides, I can hear Trexton whimpering behind me, but I don’t look back. I won’t rest until Tasha is safe.

The crowd slowly dissipates. The air feels electric, buzzing with the lingering energy of the verdict and the anticipation of what is coming. My body is tense and coiled like a spring.

As I storm through the large courtarium, my mind races with the events of the trial and the confrontation with Trexton. The injustice of it all fuels my resolve to set things right. I know I need to speak with Garrox and the judges, to plead Tasha’s case and expose the true culprit behind the sabotage.

I make my way to the courtarium stateroom, where I’m certain Garrox and the judges have retreated now that the trial has concluded. As I approach the entrance, two guards’ step forward, blocking my path.

“Halt! No one is allowed to enter the stateroom without proper authorization,” the taller of the two Bravorian guards declares, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.

I straighten and look the Bravorian directly in the eye. “I am Droilin, personal guard to the High Chieftain of Morcrest, and I have urgent business with Garrox and the judges regarding the trial.”

The guards remain steadfast, their hands tightening on their weapons. “We cannot allow you to pass, sir. Please step back.”

Not this again.

Frustration boils within me, and I realize that I have no choice but to take action. With a swift, calculated move, I disarm the first guard and shove him aside. The second guard reaches for his weapon, but I’m faster, grasping his wrist and twisting it until he drops his blade.

“I apologize for my actions, but I had no choice. I must see the High Chieftain and the judges immediately,” I declare, my voice filled with unwavering resolve. “It is my duty to protect and ensure that justice is served.”

I look at the disarmed guards, who are now eyeing me warily. “I won’t mention to your superiors how easily you were overpowered by a single target. It would reflect poorly on your training and capabilities.”

The guards exchange a glance, a mix of relief and shame on their faces. They know that their performance today could have serious consequences for their careers.

“Just go,” one of them mutters, averting his gaze. “But be quick about it.”

I nod. As I push through the doors of the stateroom, I feel the guards’ eyes on my back. I know I must be quick since they’ll report this incident to their superiors.

My focus, however, is solely on the task at hand. I must confront Garrox and the judges, and fight for Tasha’s exile.

Inside the stateroom, the opulence of the surroundings assaults my senses. The walls are adorned with intricate holotapestries, with shifting patterns that cast a blue glow across the room and the furniture, finely crafted from exotic woods, gleams under the soft illumination. The room itself is large, with high ceilings and a sprawling floor plan which dwarfs the assembled alien officials. They congregate in small groups, voices melding into a low, constant buzz. The officers are each adorned in their species’ traditional attire, which is as diverse as the worlds they represent.

The weight of the room’s significance settles upon me. This is where the most influential beings in the galaxy gather, where decisions that impact countless lives are made. But there’s only one decision that matters to me now.

I spot the High Chieftain and his advocate. Argo engaged in a heated discussion, their faces etched with grave intensity. Garrox’s brow furrows, his eyes narrowing as he leans in closer to Argo, whose hands twitch with barely contained agitation.

I scan the room, my eyes darting from one alien official to another, desperately searching for Judge Klix or even Jha’ril, hoping they are somewhere close.

Time is running out, and if I can’t save Tasha, she will be doomed. The room blurs around me as I navigate through the crowd, my focus laser-sharp.

Just as I get there, Garrox notices me.

“Droilin. Is my transport ready?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, High Chieftain —”

“Then why are you wasting time here? Get back to the ship, and prepare for departure,” he growls, his tone sharp, a flash of anger in his gaze.

“Actually, High Chieftain, if I may. There’s an urgent matter we need to discuss,” I begin, my voice tight.

“And what is that?” he asks, his brow furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“Please, let us convene in the Judge’s chambers.”

“Fine,” Garrox sighs, “But make it quick. I have important things to do before we leave.”

We head to the Judge’s chambers, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the vast hall.

When we reach the room, the door slides open, revealing a lavish chamber, the walls lined with holotapestries, the floors carpeted in the finest rugs. In the center, a massive desk sits, carved from a dark wood, the intricate patterns gleaming in the light.

Judge Klix stands behind the desk, two of his six arms resting on the polished surface, the crystal mask glittering beside his datapad. Jha’ril steps out from one of the side rooms, the feathered Seraphim’s wings brushing the ornate door frame.

“What is the meaning of this? This better be important,” the Rhilnar Judge demands, his tone clipped.

“It’s about Tasha Williams, and her sentence,” I state, hoping my voice is calmer than I feel.

The judges glance at each other, a flicker of surprise crossing their faces.

“What about her? She has been sentenced; her fate sealed. What more is there to discuss?” Jha’ril asks, a hint of irritation in his voice.

As the High Chieftain and Argo enter, he gestures for them to sit. Garrox makes a show of standing, his posture stiff, his expression hard.

“High Chieftain, Your Lawfulness’s, I believe Tasha Williams should not be executed, but rather exiled...to Morcrest.” I state, my voice echoing through the plush chamber.

Garrox’s head snaps up, his gaze locked on me, the hatred radiating off him unmistakable.

“What?!” he bellows, his face turning a dark shade of red, his eyes flashing with anger.

Jha’ril regards me, his gaze assessing.

Judge Klix raises two arms, a silent command for silence. The gesture is instantly obeyed, the room falling into a tense hush.

After a moment, Jha’ril speaks, his voice low and measured. “Continue,” the Seraphim says, a note of curiosity in his tone.

“Thank you, your Lawfulness,” I respond, inclining my head in gratitude.

“Executing Tasha will only make her a martyr,” I argue, my voice steady. “It would be far more prudent to exile her to a place she clearly despises, like Morcrest. There, she can utilize her skills as an engineer to assist me with the luminore survey I’m undertaking. This ore powers the very machines she will never again have the privilege to work on. It is a punishment that fits her crimes, a constant reminder of what she has lost...”

Garrox’s eyes narrow to slits, his voice a venomous hiss that sends a cold wave through me. “If you value your life, you will not utter another word, Droilin. This matter is beyond your jurisdiction.”

There is a stunned silence. Argo challenges me, his expression hard. “Is this punishment enough, considering the severity of the human’s crimes?”

I meet his gaze unflinchingly, my calm. “I can assure you, Advocate, this sentence is far from a reward. It is a punishment that will haunt her every waking moment, a constant reminder of her fall from grace.”

Garrox slams his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the room.

“This is preposterous! She is a danger, and should be dealt with accordingly, swiftly and decisively. Her execution will serve as a powerful example to anyone who would dare defy the authority of the High Chieftain.”

Judge Jha’ril looks to the Rhilnar.

Klix strokes his chin. His eyes narrow to mere slits, his face scrunched in deep concentration as he ponders the weight of the decision before him. Finally, he responds, his voice heavy with authority.

“Droilin, your proposal is indeed intriguing and unorthodox. You raise a valid point about the dangers of creating a martyr. In this case, exile to Morcrest may prove to be a far more effective and lasting punishment than the swift release of the airlock.”

He pauses, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the reactions of those present. “Tasha Williams’ skills as an engineer can be put to use in service of the very society she sought to undermine. After she assists Droilin, let her toil in the luminore mines, a constant reminder of the machines and technology she once coveted but can no longer access. Let her suffer the indignity of being stripped of her status and privileges, forced to live among those she once looked down upon.”

Klix’s eyes bore into Garrox, a silent challenge to his authority. “In this way, we not only punish her for her crimes but also send a message to those who would follow in her footsteps. Exile to Morcrest is a fate worse than death, a living hell from which there is no escape. It is a sentence that will break her spirit and crush her resolve, leaving her a hollow shell of her former self.”

He leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that carries the weight of a shout. “Let this be a lesson to all who would dare to challenge the power and authority of an Orion Ambassador. Mercy is a privilege, not a right, and those who abuse it will face the full force of our justice.”

Jha’ril’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere. His tone measured.

“After careful consideration of the arguments presented, the Orion Court of Justice hereby decrees that the defendant, Tasha Williams, shall be sentenced to a lifetime of exile on the luminore mining planet of Morcrest.”

Garrox slowly turns to confront me, his eyes blazing with barely contained rage, his face contorted into a mask of unadulterated fury. He takes a step forward, his presence looming over me.

“Droilin,” he hisses, his voice dripping with venom, “you have taken it upon yourself to interfere in matters far beyond your station. As such, you will bear the full responsibility for the human’s fate.”

He leans in closer, his face mere inches from mine, his hot breath washes over my skin.

“If anything, and I mean anything, happens to her while under your watch, if she so much as attempts to escape or cause any further disruption, it will be you who will pay the ultimate price. You will be executed alongside her, your lives forfeit for your insolence and failure.”

Garrox’s eyes bore into mine, a silent challenge, daring me to defy him.

“Do you understand the severity of the circumstances you have placed yourself in, Droilin? Your very existence now hangs in the balance, tethered to the actions of a convicted terrorist.”

The tension in the room is suffocating, the air thick. The other judges and officials watch in stunned silence, their eyes darting between Garrox and me, waiting for my reaction.

I feel the pressure mounting, the responsibility of Tasha’s life and my own burdens me. The consequences of any misstep, any failure, a blunt reminder of the risky gambit I have chosen to play.

Despite the fear and uncertainty coursing through my veins, I stand tall, meeting Garrox’s gaze with unwavering purpose.

“I understand, High Chieftain,” I reply, my voice resolute. “I accept the responsibility and the consequences that come with it. Tasha Williams will be under my direct supervision, and I will ensure that she poses no further threat to the Orion Galaxy.”

The room remains silent as Garrox searches my face for any sign of weakness or hesitation. Finding none, he finally nods, a grudging acknowledgment of my resolve. “See that you do, Droilin. Your life now depends on it.”

With a satisfied nod, Garrox turns on his heel and strides out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. The sound of his departure is punctuated by the furious tapping of Klix’s fingers on his datapad, the Rhilnar’s six hands a blur of motion as he documents the proceedings.

Jha’ril turns his attention to the rest of us, his gaze hard.

“That will be all,” he declares. “Droilin, I trust you comprehend the magnitude of this decision and the immense trust that the Orion Court and your High Chieftain have placed in you.”

I nod solemnly, my chest tightening as a touch of possibility sparks within me. Tasha’s life now hangs in the balance, her fate inextricably linked to my own.

In this moment, I make a silent vow to protect her, to stop at nothing until I uncover the truth behind the explosion and clear her name. I will not let her down again.

“I will ensure her exile proceeds without incident, Judge Klix,” I affirm, my voice steady. “You have my deepest gratitude for granting this opportunity.”

Jha’ril nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.