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Chapter Twenty-Nine

MAYA

T he metal cell door slams shut behind me with a finality that makes my teeth rattle. I jump to my feet, spinning to yank the bars, yet they don’t budge. Not even a millimeter. Of course.

“Please, I didn’t do anything!” I exclaim, hating how desperate I sound.

On the side of freedom, the King’s dispassionate face stares back at me. His expression is carved from the same stone as these walls, cold and unyielding.

I huff out a slow breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Panicking isn’t going to solve anything right now. It never does. Think, Maya, think.

“Seriously? You’re going to just throw me in the pits? For existing?” I snark. I don’t expect him to honestly answer me, let alone change his mind. I’m beyond help now, so what does it matter if I speak my mind? No one is around to tell me that I’m being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. I mean… if my destiny is to die, how much worse can it get? Dead is dead.

“I’d rather not,” the king replies, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “But it seems that I have no choice.”

“Yeah, I’d rather you didn’t either,” I snort, a mixture of laughter and disbelief. “So why are you doing this? Don’t you care about your son at all?”

“Of course I do!” The king snaps. “But the idiot youngling’s got it into his head that you outsiders can be trusted.”

“I can be!” I snap, anger flaring. “I came to you for help. I came to work with you, not against you. I never meant Volan harm. I love him. I…”

I trust him.

A sob builds up in my chest, but I swallow it. Hard. The taste of unshed tears burns the back of my throat.

“I trusted him,” I tell the king. “He was the one that betrayed me. I did nothing wrong.”

My words ring hollow even to my own ears. You trusted a hot alien you’d known for three days. What could possibly go wrong?

The King paces in front of my cell, his boots scraping against the rough stone floor.

“Every outsider betrays us,” he replies, shaking his head as if he’s the one saddened by all this. He waves a hand in the air, encompassing all the cells around us. “Haven’t you seen what they’ve done?”

“What have they done?” I ask, genuinely curious despite the circumstances.

“This entire place was built by them,” the king growls. His fingers tighten with his fury, but still, I refuse to cry out. His steps falter and slow as his eyes take on a distant cast, like he’s slipping into his own memories. “The outsiders brought us here and made us fight, every single day and night. Over and over. So many dead. My mother, she…”

What the hell is he going on about? I glance around at the prison cells—identical to the one I’m in—surrounding us. The same cells he’s using to hold captives before sending them to their deaths. Isn’t that what he’s doing to all these aliens?

“Do you know what it’s like, holding your mother in your arms as she dies? I was so young, too young. They didn’t care.”

His voice cracks, and for a moment, I see a flash of the scared child beneath the tyrannical king.

It still doesn’t excuse his actions.

“So you lost someone you cared about? Big deal, we all have!” I snap, patience growing thin. The guy clearly doesn’t seem sane. It hurts to lose someone you care about—let’s face it, my entire quest has been about stopping that from happening. But at the end of the day, I am responsible for my own happiness and actions. Volan taught me that.

Eyes burn as my thoughts turn to Volan—the male is the very reason I am here, trapped in a cell, rather than helping my people. My fingers grip the cold metal bars until my knuckles turn white. In the distance, I can hear muffled roars and cheers. The arena. A shiver runs down my spine.

“What you are doing right now is losing a son. If you hurt me, he’ll never forgive you.” Because he claims to love me.

I don’t know if I believe him… it’s so hard to after everything he kept from me, but a part of me desperately wants to.

“I’m saving him!” The king shouts, his voice cracking. “I know your kind. If you gain control over him, all is lost. You’ll turn him into a slave just like I was. You’ll hurt him, make him bleed, until he can handle no more. Then you’ll use that vile substance on him and make him fight again.”

“Like you are doing to others?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

The King stops his tirade, staring at me with an open mouth. Has no one ever questioned him? Has no one ever told him no? The silence stretches between us, broken only by distant sounds echoing down stone corridors. A roar, presumably from the arena, makes me flinch. My heart skips a beat, knowing that will soon be me in there with whatever is making that terrifying noise.

“Why does everything come back to that stupid medicine?” I growl, rubbing my eyelids. That prickling, hot feeling of tears threatening to spill is a distraction. Crying won’t help now. It never does.

“I don’t want your medicine,” I tell him as I slump against the bars, suddenly exhausted. The metal is cold against my forehead. “I never did. I’m like you. I just wanted to save my friends. We want the same things.”

“Everyone wants the medicine. Each day I watch them fight to the death just for a small handful.”

I see the fear in his eyes. His brow is deeply lined, and the skin beneath his eyes sunken from lack of sleep. His face is gaunt, like he’s barely eating. He reminds me of my father in those last weeks before I fled—paranoid, desperate, and completely unreachable.

He’s so, so very scared.

“You are right,” I tell him, softening my voice. “My leaders know about the medicine. I believe they have come to this planet for it.”

Because as much as my words add to his paranoia, they are the truth. If being honest might save someone’s life, even if it’s not mine, then I need to speak up. I won’t go another day quietly hiding behind a screen, running away, hoping that problems get resolved. I’m not that woman anymore.

The King’s eyes flash with fear.

“I only came here to find the proof to convict our corrupt leaders. I never intended you or your people any harm. Please.” My voice cracks. “Not all my people are bad. Most of us want to live peacefully. We came here to build new lives. To live in peace with each other. Please... not everyone deserves to be punished. Please. Do the right thing. Help them.”

For a moment, something like consideration crosses his face.

The king opens his mouth to reply, but a commotion nearby quickly closes it. Heavy footsteps and grunts of effort approach. Within moments I see two bodies, a distinctly blue and green one, being dragged along the passageway by guards twice their size. At least one of them has the common sense to actually resist. Of course, Zoran’s expression is of excitement and not frustration at his detainment.

“Put them in with her. At least she will not be alone when she dies,” the king commands the guards. He looks over his shoulder at me. “Send them all to the arena. I doubt any of them will last long. It’s the best mercy I can give,” he adds, glancing at me.

I snort. Like the guy’s giving me a lifeline. Still, a quick death is better than a slow one… I guess?

Knowing the door to my cell is about to be opened, I prepare to fling myself through it. My muscles tense, ready to spring. And then what? Somehow fight off multiple opponents bigger, stronger, and more experienced at combat than I? While wearing this stupid skirt?

With a sigh, I step back. I’m not a fighter, and I can’t fight my way out of this. But I am smart; I will make my escape. I’ve done it once before, and I’ll do it again.

I refuse to die here.

I barely step back quickly enough to avoid colliding with the bodies they throw in my direction. The cell door clangs shut once more, the sound reverberating through my bones.

“Now that just hurt!” Zoran grunts, standing and dusting himself off as if he’d merely tripped rather than been tossed into a cell like a sack of potatoes. When he sees me, he gives me a toothy grin as if he’s sharing some secret joke, as if none of this concerns him in the slightest.

Melvall just lies on the floor and groans, dramatically flinging an arm over his face.

“Today was supposed to be a short day,” Melvall groans as he lies on the floor. He flings a hand over his face. “Take me out, you begged. Just one fight. It’ll be easy, you said.”

“It was supposed to be easy,” Zoran replies with a shrug, flexing his muscles as if making sure everything still works. “How was I supposed to know that we’d be visiting the arena twice?”

“Seriously? You two are still bickering?” I ask, as I crane my neck to watch the King and his guards walk away, their footsteps fading into the distance.

I guess there’s no more reasoning with him or the King. Maybe there never was.

With a sigh, I slump against the bars and sink to the ground. The stone floor is cold and slightly damp beneath me. “I totally get the sentiment, Melvall. This was supposed to be a short quest. Just explore the mystery, an abandoned building then return to the colony. No complications. Why can’t life ever be simple?”

“Umm, because then it’d be boring?” Zoran replies. He comes to sit beside me, propping an arm on one knee. He still looks far too upbeat for the situation. I much more relate to Melvall’s outlook at the moment.

Another roar from the arena makes the walls vibrate slightly. Someone—or something—is enjoying the current match. My stomach churns.

We all remain in silence for a while, absorbed by our own thoughts. Of course, Zoran freaking hums the whole time, like we are simply waiting for the next bus to arrive. His foot taps against the floor in an irregular rhythm that’s slowly driving me insane.

“Can you explain something to me, please?” I ask, desperate to break the humming if nothing else. “What’s going on? The king was going on about slavers and being brought here... and none of it makes any sense.”

“Well you see—” Zoran starts, leaning forward eagerly.

“Like you would know, Zoran! You’ll leave out all the important parts.” Melvall huffs, sitting up and joining our little circle. “Let me tell the story.”

The two males stare at each other, participating in some staring contest as to who will be the better storyteller. You could cut the tension between the two with a butter knife—somehow this is more important than the fact that we are about to be sent to our deaths. Men.

“Fine.” Eventually, Zoran flicks a hand at Melvall in defeat. “I’d just tell her about all the interesting things, like grand battles and legendary males, not the boring facts like dates and numbers.”

He leans closer to me and whispers in an overly loud voice, “I’ll tell you the real story later. Just smile and nod at him—it always works.”

I stifle a laugh despite myself.

Melvall sighs, but thankfully starts to explain. He stands to pace the small cell, arms behind his back and held in a stately pose as he fully embodies the appearance of a teacher. “There once was a mighty pirate?—”

“The king of all pirates!” Zoran cuts in, jumping to his feet with excitement. “Undefeated in conquest. He soared through the stars and?—”

“There once was. A. King. Pirate.” Melvall says, talking over his over-zealous companion. He shoots Zoran a glare that could melt steel. “He found a planet at the edges of space, and decided to make it the heart of his empire. It was far enough away from the Galactic Federation that he could make his own laws, or lack of them.”

“This is already sounding like a terrible vacation spot,” I mutter.

“It was truly a land where only the strong thrived,” Melvall continues, ignoring my comment. “Before long, every villain had a hand in the dealings that went on; drugs, trafficking, slavery, and fight-pits. If you can imagine it, then probably worse actually happened.”

“That planet is Atraxis, isn’t it?” I ask, not needing the clarification. It’s so obvious that even Zoran knows it.

“Wait until I tell you about the dragon fight!” Zoran interjects, bouncing on his toes like an excited child.

“There were no dragons,” Melvall says flatly.

“How do you know? Were you there?” Zoran counters.

I clear my throat pointedly. “You were saying?”

“Right,” Melvall says, shooting Zoran another look. “The fighting pits were particularly profitable, attracting criminals from all over the universe. You could watch, or even join if you felt brave enough.”

He runs a hand along the wall, tracing what looks like an old scratch mark. “But the pirate king’s gladiators kept dying in them—though to be honest many of them weren’t true warriors. Most were slaves, stolen from their home worlds.”

A distant scream makes me flinch. How many have died in these pits over the years? It’s timing is all too relevant to our discussion.

Melvall’s telling a dark and terrible story… and I prefer the light-hearted ones. You know, the ones where the people actually live at the end.

“The King found a way to keep them fighting; achieving what many thought was impossible,” Melvall continues.

“The medicine,” Zoran cuts in, his voice suddenly serious.

“The ability to heal all wounds, no matter how severe,” Melvall explains. “He had help from several parties, of course. After all, everyone, including entire planets and species, wants such a power for themselves, or at the very least wants to stop their enemies from getting hold of it.”

“Long story short?” I prompt, rubbing my arms against a sudden chill.

Melvall stops pacing and faces me directly. “Supposedly the ‘investors’ found out about each other, and weren’t happy. During the fighting, the slaves took the opportunity to rebel.”

“And that’s when it gets good!” Zoran interrupts, mimicking sword fighting with an invisible opponent.

“You see,” Melvall continues, “when someone uses too much of the medicine, it becomes a part of them—they no longer need more in order to rapidly heal even the most serious of wounds. At that point you only need to give it to the younglings. In this case, so many of the slaves had been forced to fight, over and over again. They’d been healed countless times...”

“The gladiators and slaves won?” I ask, leaning forward.

“Compared to the pirate king’s men, they were unstoppable. Unkillable,” Melvall confirms.

The implications hit me like a physical blow. “The king was a slave?”

“He would have been quite young at the time,” Melvall confirms, his voice softening.

I lean my head back against the cool metal bars, the pieces clicking into place.

“It makes so much sense now; why there are buildings already on the planet. Even why Earth came here, especially under the pretense of mining.” I shake my head. “I’d like to say that I’m shocked that they even knew about this... but I’ve seen what power does to people; it makes them think that they can do anything they want, sacrificing anyone that gets in their way.”

Through the bars, I can see a guard walking past, deliberately not looking in our direction. His armor gleams in the dim light, too fancy for the grim surroundings.

“The King’s not a bad guy,” Zoran tells us, sitting back down with a thump.

Melvall snorts.

“He’s right, Melvall,” I tell the blue male.

“Oh, not you too!” He gives me a pitying look, like I’m the one that’s crazy here.

“He’s scared,” I insist. “He feels all alone in this universe, trying to hold everything together even when it’s all falling apart around him.”

Melvall shakes his head in disagreement, refusing to listen.

“He is. Trust me. I know what it’s like to feel alone, to feel like you can’t trust anyone around you at all.”

That sense of loneliness, of isolation, of having no one that I could lean on for support... it was all in my mind. All this time, I’ve been the one to make my reality worse. For so long now, I’ve been driven by this false belief—just like the King has.

In reality, I haven’t been alone for a long time. I had my friends Ariana and Stacy by my side. Then there was Volan, who came out of nowhere to offer me aid. He saved me, so many times. Even Melvall and Zoran are here caring, companions in a way that only accused-criminals can bond.

“All this time I could have spoken out and told others that I was struggling, you know? I could have asked them for help, but I didn’t.” I trace a pattern in the dust on the floor. “Why? Maybe my pride. I don’t know. I had this stupid belief that I had to be the strongest person around, taking care of others. I was putting myself under pressure for no real reason.”

“There’s no shame in asking for help,” Zoran tells me, his usual humor gone. “Even a warrior must learn when a foe is beyond their own skill level.”

“There’s no shame in asking for help,” I repeat those valuable words, closing my eyes and internalizing what’s got to be the most important lesson of my life. I never ask others for help, but that’s about to change.

“I was always afraid,” I tell them, opening my eyes to meet their gazes. “All this time, I thought I was being strong, taking my destiny into my own hands. But it was always the fear driving me. I ran from it back on Earth. I could have said no to my own father, or told the authorities what he was pressuring me to do, but I didn’t. I didn’t speak up loud enough when Ariana went missing. And I ran from the colony rather than confront Walter and the council directly; all because I was so terrified that I would fail. I didn’t need more evidence; I had all that I needed. I was just so afraid that no one would help me. I really, really didn’t need to do this all on my own.”

Even knowing that I can and should ask, doesn’t make it any easier. A life-long mental issue isn’t just solved overnight. I’m a work in progress, and that’s okay.

It’s that very reason why I can’t find it in myself to blame the King. Not fully. He’s clearly trying to work around trauma... and he really needs professional help, but obviously can’t get it. He’s doing the best he can, even if that is a bit misguided.

I open my eyes and look at my two companions. They stare back at me, attention riveted. The sound of the arena has grown louder, closer. Time is running out.

“I’m...I’m asking now. For help. Please.”

“How can we help?” Melvall asks, his voice quiet from the other side of the cell. He doesn’t hesitate to offer his support, and I’m beyond grateful for that.

I place my trembling hands in my lap. I can still feel the weight of my tablet in my pocket. It’s a comforting presence; a connection to my beloved mother, and a gift to define my own freedom and life.

No one thought to search the defenseless female. Little do they know...

“I’ve got a plan. It’s time we broke out of this place and saved the day.”

Computer engineer to prison escapee in three easy steps. Great career move, Maya.

A beat goes by, my dramatic proclamation settling in.

“You are just as mad as the rest of them,” Melvall sighs, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “But whatever. If you can get us out of these cells, then let’s do this.”

“Finally!” Zoran exclaims, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been ready to break some heads!”

“I said break out, not break heads,” I correct him, but I can’t help smiling.

I could laugh. I could cry. But what I’m really going to do is finish what I set out to do—punish the villains and save my colony.