“That’s the spirit,” she crows. “Go have some fun! And maybe get laid!”
“Zizi!” I exclaim, half laughing and half exasperated.
As I end the call with Aunt Zizi, I take the exit to Lublin Harbor.
CHAPTER 2
Ravok
“Doesn’t he freak you out?”
“Who? Robo-Beast?” The male glances over his shoulder at me, giving me a dismissive look before turning back to his companion. “Nah, not anymore. He’s harmless – we’ve got him completely contained. The sedatives make him no more dangerous than a declawed kitten.”
“Man, I don’t know. His eyes just freak me out. And I mean, look at him; he looks like he wants to eat us. He looks like a dark demon pulled straight from the depths of hell.”
I am still unused to these gawking humans. They constantly scrutinize my every action and sound. Their whispers and murmurs pass through my cell with an aggravating frequency. They love to talk about my appearance – no doubt a part of their efforts to understand and categorize me, label me as their prize.
All day long, they comment on my dark gray, gleaming skin. They marvel at my skin’s faint glimmer, referring to me as if I am some exotic mineral or rare metal to be coveted. My skin and my size are why they call me Robo-Beast. Apparently, myskin, glowing eyes, and lack of body hair make me look robotic to these humans.
My size seems to startle these humans. Certainly, I am taller and broader than any I have seen yet. However, I am no beast but a proud warrior of the Cryzor; bred strong to withstand the rigors of space and an asset valued by my people.
The first male shudders as he stares at me with wide, frightened eyes. “I hate when he looks at me – his eyes creep me out.”
The other male rolls his eyes at his companion’s fearfulness. I suppress a shudder of disgust. The way these humans’ multi-colored irises roll in their heads like loose balls is disquieting. In contrast, my eyes are almost entirely white with a barely noticeable pupil, unlike the human’s, which is a small black hole into nothingness.
My eyes glow, lit from within giving me superior sight to these meager beings, allowing me to navigate easily in the vast darkness of space.
“I’m just glad he can’t understand us.”
“For sure, because if he could, he’d be fighting us tooth and nail about the procedure they’re going to perform on him in the morning. Although, I don’t know why they think it will work this time. Every time they’ve tried to extract the micro-mechanics in his bloodstream, they die once they leave his body.” The man shakes his head and then gives the other man a smirk. “Either way, they’re gonna make Robo-Beast howl this time, the tough bastard.”
Both males turn to look at me at the same time, so I lift my lip in a snarl, although I make sure to make it appear as if I’m still dizzy and drugged. I imagine ripping out these pathetic creatures’ throats with my teeth. If my people ever discovered that such a weak species had captured me, I would be recycled immediately. It fills me with shame that they were able tosubdue me when my ship crashed. Being injured is no excuse, and my squadron leader would agree.
The only redeeming part of this situation is that despite all their efforts, these ‘humans’ have been unable to decipher my cybernetics. They also don’t realize I can understand their language thanks to the universal translator implanted in my ear canal. My nanites, the microscopic robots coursing through my veins, have finally turned the tide against the insidious poison the humans administered into my blood. It took longer than I had anticipated for the bots to synthesize a way to neutralize the drugs they injected into my system. I am whole again – a Cryzorian Outrider – a warrior with full awareness of his strength and purpose. The last vestiges of the human drug have been obliterated, replaced by a resurgence of power that’s at once liberating and intoxicating.
A hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as their droning voices echo around me. These pitiful beings stand in the bright, harsh light of this facility, bombarding me with their loud, squawking voices and sharp knives, thinking I am ignorant of their intentions. Oh, how little they know and how much I relish the idea of ripping them all to shreds.
“Go prep the surgery room for tomorrow, and I’ll wrap up here,” the cocky male tells the timid one.
“Are you sure? I was told we aren’t supposed to be alone with the subject.”
“Dude, look at him. It’s fine. I’ve been dealing with this creepy asshole for months – I haven’t had a problem yet. If we split the work, we’ll be done faster and get out of here early.”
When the male glances at me as if for confirmation, I make sure to appear dazed. With a huff, he turns back to his companion. “Fine. But I’m throwing you under the bus if we get caught.”
Through slitted eyes, I watch as the male leaves the room with hurried steps.
As I lay strapped to the cold metal exam table, my excitement bubbles beneath the surface, tempered only by my painstakingly cultivated patience. For too long, I have endured the indignity of captivity and torture at the hands of these soft, weak creatures. But now, at long last, one of them has made a fatal mistake. One of them has dropped their guard, and I am ready to pounce.
As the human male brushes past me, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath my façade of compliance, anticipation floods my veins. How dare these creatures imprison me and subject me to their invasive, agonizing experiments? A rage burns within me that threatens to consume me whole, but I channel it, stoking the flames of my determination to escape.
With a burst of strength fueled by fury and desperation, I snap the strap holding my torso down as if it were nothing more than a flimsy piece of string. The human’s eyes widen in shock and fear as I lunge forward, seizing him in an iron grip before he can utter a sound.
As I hold my former captor captive, a sense of triumph washes over me. This is my moment of reckoning, my chance to reclaim my dignity as a warrior of my species. And as I stare into the eyes of the trembling human before me, I bare my teeth in a triumphant sneer.
I have been shackled, displayed, and diminished on this primitive planet against my will, but here I am, reclaiming my power – the power of a Cryzorian warrior. A member of a species whose very name sends a ripple of fear through the galaxies.
I squeeze the male’s throat one-handed as his mouth gapes open in a silent scream. His futile struggles are quickly silenced against my crushing grip. Beneath my palm, his heartbeat is an erratic, frantic staccato. I can taste the sour scent of his fear intertwined with the cool metallic tang of adrenaline on mytongue. It’s intoxicating and revives me in ways their starchy food and stale, stinking air fail to do. I tighten my hold, causing the creature’s eyes to bulge with terror, the pleasing thump-thump of his heart now fading.
