Page 19 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 19

I practically bounce out of bed this morning. Last night was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Not at all. In fact, I would have been much happier if it had progressed from a kiss to more... but a kiss is something, a recognition that my feelings aren’t one-sided, or the extra attention he gives me isn’t out of duty but desire.

I think.

Okay, maybe one kiss isn’t enough to be sure. I need to see him again. Just like any mechanical problem I’ve ever come across; this needs to be scrutinized.

I smile as I touch my lips. I can still feel the tingle of Droilin’s lips on mine, where his tusks grazed my cheeks. My mind hasn’t stopped replaying the moment. But today, I’ll get to see him again. Perhaps today I can find out if I am reading too much into this, or if there is something more happening.

But as much as I want to explore these newfound feelings, I can’t ignore the reality of being in exile, branded a terrorist for a crime I didn’t commit. Until I clear my name, any future with Droilin is nothing more than a fantasy.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the card Officer McCoy gave me. Maybe I could ask Droilin to arrange a call with the Planetary Police, but what would I say? But I have no fresh evidence to give them. I’d just be a nuisance caller. No, I need Droilin’s help. First, I need him to help me clear my name, then we’ll find out who really sabotaged the ship. I’ll talk to him this morning, on the walk to the mine.

I have to stay focused on proving my innocence. Fixing those machines in the mine yesterday means I’ve found a way to be useful here. Maybe I can earn some goodwill, some allies who might help me uncover the truth about the sabotage.

Determined, I stand up and stretch, ready to face the day. I won’t stop looking for a way to clear my name and win back my freedom. Maybe I can see if this spark with Droilin can grow into something more.

The thump of a fist on the wall outside my cell and an unfamiliar voice stops me mid thought.

“Get up Williams. Time to get to work.”

That’s not Droilin.

Dread pools in my stomach. If he isn’t here, does that mean Garrox found out about our kiss? I scan for cameras, relieved to see none.

I just finish tying the new... ish boots I’ve been provided with, when the jangle of a key in the lock and the door creak open, revealing two unfamiliar guards waiting for me

I rise, the heavy shackles around my wrists and ankles clinking.

“Hurry it up,” the burly orc barks, his tone gruff and impatient. I assign him the name Burly since they never give me their real names.

“Where’s Droilin?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Not here.” He growls, grabbing my arm. His grip is rough, his fingers digging into my skin.

He drags me out of my cell, the chains around my wrists and ankles scraping the cold stone floor.

“Move it!” he snaps, pushing me forward.

My heart races, fear spiraling in my gut.

“Let’s go, prisoner. No time to waste.” The guard grabs my arm, jerking me towards the door.

I stumble forward, trying to keep up with his long strides. We step outside, the wind stinging my face.

I glance around, but there is no sign of Droilin.

I try to pull free, but the guard holds tight, his grip bruising.

“Droilin is supposed to take me to the mines,” I murmur, more to myself than to the towering figure before me.

“Shut up,” he barks, a dark warning in his voice.

A rough push from the burly guard sends me stumbling, nearly tripping over the clumsiness of my own feet. Irritation simmers beneath my skin, but I know better than to resist. I bite back a curse and keep moving, the guard close behind me.

We make our way out of the prison and onto the dark streets of Frosthok. To my surprise, instead of walking to the mine, a landcrawler is waiting for us.

“In the crawler, prisoner. Time to get to work.”

I hesitate, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Something’s wrong. Did Droilin abandon me? No, I can’t think like that. I shove the thought away. This doesn’t feel right.

“Now, prisoner. Or we’ll have to use force.”

I reluctantly climb into the crawler, settling on the hard metal seat. The guards sit across from me, their eyes fixed on me.

As the engine roars to life, the driver glances back, a cold, cruel smirk twisting his lips. I stare out the window, watching as the dark streets of Frosthok give way until they disappear completely behind grey clouds, and I see Frosthok mine up ahead.

The crawler shudders to a stop, and I swallow the nervous bile that rises in my throat. The guards roughly grab my arms and drag me out, the chains cutting into my wrists and ankles.

I walk towards the entrance to the mine, but the chain attached to me is pulled taut. The guards laugh as they rein me in so roughly, I fall, hitting my knee on the snow-covered ground. I stand and dust myself off, determined not to show them how much it hurts.

“Get moving, human. You’re not going in the main entrance with the workers, you’re going in the back with the rest of the prisoners. Now get moving, or do we need to use force again, huh? How much pain can your human body take before it gives up?” Burly taunts, his expression mocking.

I stare at him defiantly, not bothering to dignify his question with an answer.

He shrugs and turns to his partner. Without warning, the guard grabs me by the arm and pulls me towards the mines, the chains rattling against the icy ground.

I resist the urge to struggle and try to match his stride, but it’s difficult. My feet slide and stumble on the icy terrain, making it almost impossible to keep up.

With each step, the fear inside me grows. I’ve heard the stories about mines. On any planet, they are a dangerous place, full of deadly creatures and unstable tunnels.

I follow the guards, my heart sinking. It feels like a betrayal that Droilin would agree to this. After my work yesterday. Maybe he doesn’t know...

This part of the mine is much more claustrophobic even for me, and I’m used to crawling in small spaces on ships. Inside, the low ceiling is illuminated by faint, flickering lanterns, and the narrow passage goes on forever. The air is heavy with the smell of sweat and blood, and the sound of pickaxes echoing in the distance.

The guards lead me down the corridor, my shoulders brush the rock walls, and I can feel the weight of the mountain above me, pressing down. I try not to think about who these other prisoners are... Or what they’ve done. But it is impossible not to imagine the worst.

“Fresh Meat is here!” Burly calls in a loud voice as a mine guard approaches and unlocks a metal cage door.

Inside, the large cell is filled with other prisoners. Most are huddled in corners, trying to stay warm. Some are picking fights, and there’s a tense atmosphere in the air.

The guards shove me into the cell and lock the door behind me. I stand awkwardly, not sure where to go or what to do.

“Hey, human girl. Come sit by me.” A small, female orc, with skin a muted pale green, says, patting the space beside her.

“Thanks,” I reply, sitting down next to her, the chains on my wrists and ankles clinking. She offers me a slight, kind smile, which I appreciate.

There’s an uneasy silence as the other prisoners size me up. I try not to meet their gaze, the fear and hostility radiating from them.

“So, what’s your story? How’d you end up in here?” she asks.

I’m not sure how to answer that. I’ve been trying not to think about it.

“Well, I um... I was framed. For a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Aren’t we all?” she says with a dry laugh. “But most of us did the crimes.”

“No, I really didn’t,” I protest. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I’m Daliak, by the way.”

“I’m Tasha. It’s nice to meet you,”

She looks me up and down; her gaze skeptical, but she says nothing.

“So, what did you do to get thrown in here?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.

“I sold drugs. Not just any old drugs, no, I dealt the serious stuff. Then it got too hot, but I was greedy and, well...now here I am. Home sweet home.” She replies, her voice low.

She glances around the mine, her expression grim. “This place is different from the main mine. The luminore here is more volatile, so they send the troublemakers to work this vein. Garrox’s guards run the show, but the Foreman still has to keep an eye on things.”

As we talk, Daliak leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“I don’t normally trust humans, but you seem different. And right now, I’ll take any ally I can get, even if it’s a pink-skinned outsider like you.”

She pauses, her eyes darting around to make sure no one else is listening.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but word is that Garrox has made some kind of deal with the STI. A big one. And now he’s desperate to hold up his end of the bargain, no matter the cost to us.”

My eyes widen, a sense of unease settling in my gut. “What kind of deal?”

Daliak shakes her head. “No one knows for sure, but it’s got to be something huge. Why else would he be working us to the bone like this? I heard he’s even bringing in some fancy new mining equipment, stuff we’ve never seen before.”

I nod, my mind racing. Garrox is obviously up to something. I wish I could talk to Droilin. Maybe he knows more.

“I’ve seen leaders like Garrox before,” Daliak continues, her voice grim. “They make promises they can’t keep, and then they’ll do anything to save their own skin. Even if it means sacrificing the rest of us.”

A shudder runs through me at her words. If Garrox is truly backed into a corner, there’s no telling what he might do. And if he cannot hold up his end of the deal with the STI... what will that mean for Morcrest? For me?

I’ve been condemned and sent here without a proper investigation. If Garrox will do that to me, with the STI approval, what would he do to his own people with no one watching if he’s pushed far enough?

“What if...” I hesitate, almost afraid to voice my suspicions out loud. “What if someone is trying to sabotage Garrox’s efforts? To make sure he can’t follow through on his deal?”

Daliak’s eyes widen, and she leans back, considering my words. “You might be onto something there, human. It would explain a lot, like the extra security around the mines lately.”

I nod, my mind whirling with possibilities. If someone is intentionally undermining Garrox, they must have a reason. But what could it be? Is my situation linked? The sour feeling in my gut thinks it is.

Before I can respond, a loud siren sounds, and the door of our cage is opened.

“To work, meat sacks.” A guard shouts, and the prisoners file out of the cage, heading into an enormous cavern.

I follow, trying not to lose my footing in the darkness. I’m jostled about by the other prisoners, who head to picking up pickaxes and shovels. All I want is to go back to the room with all the machines. I shouldn’t be here, I should be there, fixing equipment.

“Fresh Meat, get over here. You’re going to be working on the conveyor belt. Make sure the belt doesn’t jam, or I’ll use your hide for the next one.”

Daliak shoots me a worried look, but I give her a small smile, reassuring her I will be okay.

“Conveyor belt?” I ask, trying not to show my relief. A job I can do!

“Yes, you know, the big thing that moves the rocks and dirt from the pit to the carts. Now, get to work. We don’t have all day.”

I nod, and hurry towards the conveyor belt. There are guards everywhere, including an ugly one glued to my side. The heat of this place starts to get to me hours later. The humidity, the constant noise, it all feels like it’s closing in on me. My body aches from the physical work, and my mind is numb from the monotony. One guard is stuck beside me, watching me. I dub him Claws because of the set of three parallel scars running across his throat.

I wouldn’t like to run into whatever caused that...

As the day goes on, the other prisoners notice me. They see the way the guards are monitoring me, and they question it.

“What did you do to get a private cage keeper?” One orc asks, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Nothing,” I reply, frustrated. “I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“Yeah, right? They’re all saying you’re a saboteur, that you’re gonna bring the whole mine down.” Another orc laughs.

“I’m not a saboteur,” I insist. “I was framed. I’m innocent.”

The prisoners ignore me, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

I turn back to the conveyor belt, determined to keep working for now, and figuring out how to make an escape.

“Stand up, meat sacks, Foreman is coming,” a guard shouts, and the prisoners scramble to their feet.

Throk!

Hope billows in my chest as I watch the tall burly orc lumbering over the group. But as he draws nearer, the look on his face makes my heart sink as one guard drags his attention to another issue away from where I’m standing.

“Meat Sack six six, eight, step forward!” the guard who has been beside me all shift hollers, distracting my attention for a moment.

A skinny, disheveled orc steps forward, his head bowed.

“You’re being reassigned to the pit for fighting.”

The orc protests, but the guard is unsympathetic. He drags the orc away, and the rest of the prisoners continue mining.

I seize the opportunity of the guard’s distraction when I spot Throk as he walks past. I call out to him, keeping my voice low.

“Throk, please, I need your help.”

He stops, glancing around before stepping closer. “What is it, human? You know I can’t be seen fraternizing with prisoners.”

I nod, understanding his predicament. “I want to help, Throk. Let me take a look at the machines. I’m wasted down here. I might be able to improve efficiency, ease the burden on the miners.”

Throk hesitates, glancing around warily. “If Garrox finds out”

“I’ll be discreet,” I assure him.

Throk nods curtly. “Just don’t make me regret it, human. But once the shift ends, you’re on your own. I can’t risk Garrox finding out I helped you.”

“I understand. Thank you, Throk. I won’t forget this.”

I watch as Throk argues with Burly, their voices rising in intensity. Claws studies Throk, and looks like he’s ready to tear him apart.

Throk calls over an additional guard and after a quick exchange, he nods his head and motions for me to follow.

“Come on, Fresh Meat. Get to the machine room. Don’t cause any trouble or you’ll be back down here with the rest of the filth,” Throk warns.

Claws puts his giant hand out on Throk’s chest and leans in, “She has orders to stay down here.”

The new guard slinks away, and I wonder what Claws deal is.

“Not today. I’m the Foreman of this mine and I want her back in the equipment room,” Throk’s tone is firm.

“Garrox gave her orders,” Claws growls, his teeth bared.

“High Chieftain wants the luminore to flow, then that human needs to fix the machines.” Throk doesn’t flinch, standing his ground.

After a tense moment, Claws finally relents.

His eyes narrow at me, and a sneer curls his lips. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Williams.”

“Of course, you do.”

“Don’t push it, meat sack.”

Claws glares at Throk, but backs down, lowering his hand. “Fine. Take her back. But one of us is supervising her.”

Just as I’m about to follow Throk, another guard rushes over, pulling him aside. They speak in hushed tones, and I can see the concern etched on Throk’s face.

He turns to me, his expression apologetic. “Tasha, go with Korg for now.”

With that, Throk turns back to the other guard, their conversation growing more animated.

I hesitate, worry gnawing at my gut. Being alone with Claws, even for a short while, isn’t a comforting thought.

I keep my head down and follow Claws, hoping this is the start of my escape. But quickly I realize he’s not taking me to the machine room, he’s leading me down a dimly lit corridor and into a dead-end.

“Here,” he says gruffly, unlocking a large metal door. “This is the machine room.”

I step inside, looking around. It’s a mess, with broken and outdated hand tools strewn everywhere. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be. The air is musty and damp, and there’s a frost in the air.

Claws grabs me, slamming the door shut and pushing me against it.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck a human female. I hear your cunts are so wet and tight.”

He presses his body against mine, his breath hot on my face.

“Let go of me,” I say, struggling frantically against his grip.

“Or what? Down here, no one but me will hear you scream.”