Ingrog society was simple and regarded wealth, stature, and their jeweled harnesses that draped across their bodies as more important than reproduction. Hundreds of Earth years later and the mines had taken a toll. As a result, the Ingrog of Hoynal could no longer breed at the rate they needed to avoid extinction.
Short tempers and a refusal to follow the rules led their species to desperate choices. The slavers recognized and took advantage, offering up females and extracting exorbitant prices for the chance to breed with humans who were among a few of the compatible species they could mate. The Ingrog violated the Cardinal Edict as soon as they negotiated with the Zhorn.
Valtus nodded, his lips set in a firm line. “One bio-sign just went out completely.”
Veet!
We were discovered.
“Go! Now! Save the captives!”
My order was yelled without delay since discovery no longer mattered. We entered the domed building we had surrounded earlier, bursting through from all angles and breaking the structure apart. Formed with mud, a plaster-like substance infused with the material of their vegetation, it wasn’t built to withstand such an attack. Blaster fire could be heard along with a shriek from one of the females. The human male’s voice cut through the others as he swore, his tone a deep contrast to the grunts and roars of the Ingrog.
“Save them!” he shouted. “Let the Ingrog keep me instead!”
His sacrifice was admirable, but it would not save the females. One lay dead across the far side of the room, no doubt destroyed before we entered as a Zhorn slaver climbed off her lifeless body. My warriors closed in, unsheathing their weapons. I let them advance without a word. Moments later, the Zhorn’s death cry filled the air.
The other female was fighting off a much larger Ingrog, the beast roaring as he picked her up in anger and shook her like a ragdoll. His rage at being interrupted before he could complete the transaction of sale must have triggered his furious response. The Ingrog was a fool. He would kill the breeder he desperately needed because he was nothing more than a meatsuit. The human’s body was slammed into the ground twice before I was able to lock onto his back.
A single pulse from my blaster opened a hole clear through his midsection as he slumped to the ground. The female stared up at the ceiling, her eyes vacant as I shook my head. Such a frail and soft body could not withstand the brutal nature of these beasts. This entire assignment was nothing but tragedy, preventable if only the Conclave would understand the real danger the Zhorn represented.
“Fuck!” The human male confronted another Ingrog, fighting with renewed vigor as we opened fire. Chaos ensued. More of the beasts entered the hut before I found him minutes later, a blaster hole in his side and a deep gash running along his pale peachy colored forehead. “Tell my family,” he gasped, slumping over slightly. “Tell them I tried to save her.”
“Save who?”
“My comrade.” He coughed up blood, bubbles appearing on the sides of his mouth as he spoke and shoved a piece of cloth into my hand. The insignia from a light blue uniform – Interstellar Space Program (ISP) – was bloodied and torn. “They’re not . . .” he paused, fighting for every breath. “Safe.”
“Who?” I demanded as Valtus kneeled at my side, scanning the human male’s vitals. He shook his head sadly. There was nothing we could do. We were not equipped to heal humans. Similar physiology or not, even our medical officer wasn’t prepared for the extent of his injuries. We didn’t carry human plasma aboard our battle cruiser and their flesh was much more delicate.
“Hargrave,” the human whispered, sputtering as his eyes lost their flicker of light. “Find the Hargraves.” As his chest rose and fell a final time, I resisted the urge to roar my frustration to theCosmos.
The human male was dead.
There would be no further information. We would search the records and files, scan the Zhorn and the Ingrog for any evidence but the slavers weren’t careless. Nothing much would be found. It was the way they kept one step ahead of us and had been since this mission began.
None of the Ingrog or other slavers survived.
The only useful piece of Intel was the human surname Hargrave and the ISP insignia.
Valtus lowered his head as a sign of respect for the human as I shot to my feet, too angry to remain on this planet. My report would cover these atrocities in detail as well as the dozens of human captives we’d found for months without the ability to rescue a single female unharmed. Corpses were carefully stowed away on board theVindicatorto await the decision of the human government. Three more bodies would join the growing tally of casualties in an unknown war. This male had been discovered and murdered along with the others. An angry tick pulsed in my jaw as the quills on my back grew warm and refused to lower completely even if the threat was extinguished.
The Zhorn would answer for their crimes. Somehow. Some way. I would make it my mission to bring justice to those who didn’t have a voice.
