Page 9 of Commander’s Mate

“You have been captured to serve the Sargus Empire.”

Every woman awake went silent.

The words came through in English, but his mouth did not shape English. The sound beneath the translation gurgled and clicked. My body went cold, then hot, then cold again.

“You have been inspected and injected with micro-translators,” he continued. “You will understand your keepers and your masters. You will obey. Disobedience will be punished. Escape is impossible. This vessel is in deep space. When I exit, your restraints will release. You may move within this chamber until transfer.”

Transfer.

Masters.

Serve.

The door opened behind him.

A woman two bunks away started to cry. Someone else cursed in a language that translated with startling creativity. I could not move. Could not think. Could not look away from the place where the alien had stood.

The straps released with a soft mechanical hiss.

For several seconds, no one moved.

Then the room became sound.

Women crying. Women swearing. Women calling names that no one answered. Metal bunks creaking as bodies sat up too fast and swayed from whatever drug still poisoned us. I pushed myself upright and nearly vomited. The shapeless dress hanging from my shoulders was not mine. My t-shirt and shorts were gone. My bra and underwear were gone. I was barefoot.

I looked down at the thin white sack covering me and felt humiliation slam into terror.

They had undressed me.

Inspected me.

Injected me.

Stolen me.

I gripped the edge of the bunk and breathed through my nose until the room stopped tilting. Do not fall apart yet. That thought came from somewhere practical, somewhere mail-route stubborn. Fall apart later. Figure out now.

I climbed down the narrow ladder on shaking legs.

“Are you from Earth?” a woman asked.

I turned. She stood a few feet away, tall, short blond hair, sharp green eyes, and the rigid posture of someone trying to hold herself together through force alone.

“Yes,” I said. My voice sounded scratched raw. “Ohio.”

Her mouth tightened. “Scarlet Andrews. Also Ohio. I was walking my dog.”

The words nearly undid her. She swallowed hard and looked away.

Another woman came toward us, dark hair, smaller than Scarlet but with an athletic build and eyes too wide in her pale face. “Zoe Addison. I was getting the mail.”

“Nora Reed,” said a fourth, rubbing the spot behind her ear. “Jogging near the park.”

Four Earth women. Small towns. Ordinary errands.

Easy pickings.

I almost said it, then did not. Some truths did not need help.