-Enslaved-by-an-Officer[ Sold 8] Page 3

  Pointing upward while keeping his attention on Fraunnon, Honor reeled off the fighting capability of his ship. “There are over fifty thousand battle-ready Krase warriors aboard. We have three sonic cannons, a photon laser blaster, and numerous bombs.” After a few short sentences, it was clear Fraunnon’s little house was no match for the firepower on board his vessel. “I have taken a shuttle down here to give you an opportunity to return the slave to me, and you have refused. I can only assume you are hiding him from me, so I will destroy everything I can.”

  “But you would kill him in the process!” “If I can’t have this slave returned to me, then you can’t have him, either.”

  “I told you, he isn’t—”

  “Here. Yes. I heard you. But I do not believe you don’t know where he is. Since you refuse to tell me, I have no choice but to incinerate you, your home, and everything within a wide distance of your home.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “I would. I tire of your lies. You did something to him, and unless you tell me, you leave me no choice but to destroy you and everyone on this continent.” Honor actually wouldn’t harm innocents, but he wanted to see if Carver was nearby.

  “He isn’t here!”

  “Then where is he?”

  It was clear Fraunnon was debating telling Honor another lie, perhaps one a little smaller than this one. Liars always started with the biggest lie then backed up and told half. Honor had no time to play such foolish games. Moving forward with a swiftness the Laruhar wasn’t anticipating, Honor grasped his neck and pushed him against the nearest wall.

  Impassively, Honor stood there, watching the idiot gasp and squirm. He didn’t bother to ask his question again. Fraunnon knew what he wanted. He would either answer with the truth or toss out another lie. Either way, Honor was going to know.

  “He wouldn’t submit.”

  “I don’t care.” That didn’t surprise Honor in the least. Carver was much bigger than Fraunnon, so he would make a terrible submissive sexual slave. However, he would be a compellingly powerful partner. Before he could go down that forbidden path again in his mind, Honor clutched Fraunnon’s throat a little tighter.

  “I’ll tell you. Just let me go.” Fraunnon squeaked the words.

  Honor released some of the pressure but didn’t entirely let go. He didn’t trust the self-serving Laruhar not to do something stupid.

  “I sent him to Bewen.”

  Honor’s entire form tensed. “You sold him to one of the jild farms?”

  “I didn’t sell him. He was supposed to be there until he decided I was far less trouble than picking bulbs all day.”

  “They work their slaves to death.” Honor feared that even were he to rush to Bewen, he would be too late. Carver Tam was most certainly dead.

  “I know!” Fraunnon slapped at Honor’s hand.

  He considered tightening his grip and bashing Fraunnon’s head into the wall but refrained. Instead, Honor released Fraunnon but stayed close. “You know because you tried to get him back.”

  “It was only supposed to be a punishment. I wanted him to behave and do what I told him.”

  “And so you picked a man three times your size?”

  “That’s the point.” Fraunnon straightened his clothing as if that would restore his dignity.

  “You like being in charge of someone who could kill you with his bare hands.” Honor stated this as an observation rather than as a question. He thought he had Fraunnon pretty well figured out. It seemed there were very few surprises for him in the universe.

  Rather than answer, Fraunnon simply glared at him almost as if it were his fault the human had refused to be obedient.

  “The farm on Bewen was just to give Carver a taste of what enslavement by a brutal master could be like. But then the owner refused to return him.” Completely vexed, Fraunnon shook his head and further fiddled with his clothing. “I have tried everything to get him back but that—that—that demonic beast just laughs at me!”

  Honor sighed.

  Fraunnon considered him anew. “But you could get him back.”

  “Oh, I shall.”

  Fraunnon smiled.

  “But I won’t be giving him to you.”

  He slumped his shoulders. “You can’t do that. He’s my property.”

  “He’s a Krase citizen.”

  Now Fraunnon looked stricken, as well he should. Krase protected her citizens. To enslave one was to risk the wrath of the entire government. No being in all of the galaxy would willingly subject themselves to that.

  “I did not know.” Fraunnon appeared to be looking for an exit, but Honor was too close for him to run without being caught.

  “Now you do.” Honor took great pleasure in withholding the fact that Fraunnon was due his money back from the auction house. But he felt those funds should go to Carver for what Fraunnon had put him through.

  Without another word, Honor left the house, entered his shuttle, and returned to his battleship. He ordered a course set for Bewen then paced in his quarters. He seemed to be spending more time alone in his room but he thought that might be for the best. He could have sent someone else to the planet to retrieve Carver, but he felt a need to go himself. The only good thing that had happened during his interlude with Fraunnon was that he’d learned Carver’s name. Carver Tam had a most pleasant ring. Honor could easily picture himself calling out his name as they—

  “No. I’m going to save him from the jild farm and then set him free.”

  Try as he might to keep the erotic images out of his head, Honor was flooded with them anyway. They were sharper now and bolder. Having a name to attach to the man added a level of familiarity that was almost frightening. He had to remind himself that his imaginings weren’t real. As much as he’d like to be with Carver, he simply couldn’t. Besides, just because he was physically attracted to Carver didn’t mean they were compatible in any way. Given the fact that he had refused to let Fraunnon penetrate him, it was clear that Carver wasn’t submissive in any way.

  Or maybe not.

  Fraunnon was ugly. Although, to be fair, Honor was judging him by Krase standards. Still, when he pictured Carver and Fraunnon side by side, he couldn’t ever see them becoming intimate, even if Carver were to penetrate Fraunnon. They simply didn’t look right together. Even though multiple humans had paired off with aliens, there was always a certain symmetry to their relationships. Once Honor removed Fraunnon from the picture and placed himself beside Carver, he nodded. Yes, that was much better. They were well suited to one another physically. Carver was big enough that he might be able to handle Honor’s prick without the need of the cock-crushing device.

  If not for Noble Chaos, Honor never would have figured out how the Krase were mating with the tiny humans without harming them. When Noble had been taken into custody, he’d shown Honor the device that Blessed Despair had fashioned for his use with Tyler. The device was simple. The ring fit at the base of his cock and crushed the enormous size with some kind of pandimensional field. All the same tactile sensations remained. The device simply allowed the wearer to be with someone smaller. But Carver seemed big enough that he might be able to handle all of Honor just as he was.

  Honor tried to stop the daydream but couldn’t. No matter what he did he saw Carver striding toward him, his teeth bared, his body hard and ready. In true warrior fashion, they would battle for supremacy. To the victor went the right of first penetration. Honor always won. He would then take his time exploring Carver’s body with his hands, mouth, and tongue. Only when he had him thrashing with need would Honor plunge his prick deep into Carver’s muscular ass.

  As the fantasy deepened, Honor slid his hand down to stroke himself through his trousers. He thought of finding a warrior and releasing his fluids, but he just couldn’t summon the interest. What brought his sexy dream to a screeching halt was the fact that Carver was almost certainly dead.

  Honor’s erection faded fast, leaving him feeling ashamed and afraid
. How had he allowed himself to become so attached to a person he’d never met? He honestly didn’t know, but he blamed the humans. Ever since they’d shown up on Krase they’d been nothing but trouble. If other beings weren’t fighting over them, they were scheming ways to ensnare one. The only way to ensure no other slave trader went back to Earth to get more was to erect a field around that particular quadrant of space. The Earthlings on the planet had no idea there was such a field and they were also unaware of their stolen members, but the Krase government felt something had to be done. No Earthling could go back, but they didn’t want any other Earthlings coming out, either.

  “They are a menace.” Grim Dancing, the current controller, the ultimate leader of those who lead, had charged Honor to bring the matter to a finish as quickly as possible. “I fear, truly fear, that if we do not contain them within the next few cycles, the entire known universe will plunge into total anarchy.”

  Honor had agreed and taken the assignment because after seeing what had happened to two powerful and driven Krase officers, he couldn’t dare to let anyone who might be similarly swayed fall under the humans’ spell. He thought he would be immune. Sadly, he was wrong.

  Sighing, which was another thing he’d never done until recently, Honor continued to pace in his room until exhaustion overwhelmed him and he was able to sleep. It was a fitful rest broken by dreams of having Carver only to lose him to another. Honor would wake gnashing his teeth and clenching his fists. Finally, he could take no more, left his bed, and went to the helm. His devotee dutifully trailed behind him. Honor was so used to his presence he only noticed him when he wasn’t around.

  Planet Bewen was in sight. But there was a problem. They were told they couldn’t set foot on the planet. Honor informed them that they would not land the battleship but only a small shuttle. They were refused the right to land no matter what craft they would use. Normally, in a situation such as this, Honor would call upon his diplomatic training, but he had neither the time nor the patience.

  “Use the sonic cannon and take out his front door.”

  Some Krase officers might have questioned such a dramatic response, but this one grinned, trained the weapon on the creature’s building, and fired.

  There was a squawk of furious swears spewing out of the communication device.

  “Now that I’ve made my position clear, let us try this again. I wish to land my ship to retrieve an illegally acquired slave by the name of Carver Tam. If I do not receive prompt and courteous permission, I will level the area where you are so I might land my shuttle there.”

  They were given permission to land.

  Honor thanked him and shut down communications. “Sometimes the best diplomacy is a powerful weapon.”

  The officer at the helm nodded and laughed.

  Honor left the bridge and went aft to the shuttle bay. Since Bewen was hot and dry, Honor had dressed accordingly in light trousers, no shirt, a belt for his weapons, and sturdy boots. When he found himself fussing with his clothing, he forcefully stopped. He simply had to let go of the notion he would have anything to do with Carver other than giving him his citizenship and setting him free. That was all. Eventually, the desire would fade and he could get on with his life. Or so he hoped. But he realized that might not happen as his anticipation rose. Tingles danced along his nerves, heightening his awareness of everything around him. His pants felt too restrictive, the seat too soft, the smell of something in the shuttle was irritating, and his devotee was looking at him in a curiously judgmental way.

  When Honor looked again, he realized his devotee was simply looking at him as he always did. His own sense of guilt was spilling over onto those around him. Cautioning himself to keep his focus on his mission, he turned and looked out the window. Nothing but sand greeted his eye. The pilot’s view surely included some buildings but not the direction Honor was looking. His kind did not care for jild, but he was aware of the market for the exceedingly rare spice. What those who consumed it didn’t realize was that the fragile bulbs came at a terrible price. Most beings couldn’t handle the viciously hot, dry conditions of Bewen. The only way the owners were able to extract the bulbs from the sand was by buying slave labor and working them to death. From what his devotee had told him, the owners of the planet had tried hiring beings to work the sand for a fine wage and decent housing, but no one wanted the job. Not only did no species find the working conditions tolerable but once they had their pay there was nothing to spend their money on. Bewen had no recreational facilities. But this didn’t deter the owner of the planet, the one who’d refused to let Honor land until he’d persuaded him, from harvesting his one and only product.

  Slavery was legal in the Krase empire. As long as his slaves came to him by legal means, he could work them to death if he saw fit. Though it was despicable and cruel, there was nothing Honor could do about the brutality of the situation. There were those species who were demanding more rights for slaves, but there were just as many beings who wanted to keep the status quo.

  Honor had never given the matter of slavery much thought. He wasn’t a slave himself, and he didn’t own any. But now that he’d come to be involved in a more personal way, he was beginning to side with the beings who wanted to outlaw the practice. There were more than enough creatures who would gladly take on most slave chores as a job. The problem was that greedy beings didn’t want to pay for what they could get for free. Oftentimes they paid more for a slave than they would to hire a worker, but pointing that out to them only seemed to entrench them in their view.

  “I cannot change the universe.”

  “My master?”

  “Nothing, devotee. I am pondering the complexities of existence and finding myself lacking.”

  “There is nothing you cannot do, my master.”

  Honor nodded then turned his attention out the window. If what devotee said was true, he should be able to capture Carver’s attention. The question was how would he do that? Since no answer was forthcoming, he prepared himself for landing then rose once the vehicle stopped. As soon as the door opened he felt his spine stiffen. The heat invaded the vehicle, and the dry air stole whatever moisture there was. Honor’s lungs ached after only a few breaths. His hope of finding Carver alive sank even deeper. He feared he had come to verify his death rather than to offer him sanctuary.

  “There is a problem.” The pilot left the small bridge and came into the main compartment. “Apparently, one of the slaves killed the overseer for this section and is now leading the slaves to rebellion.”

  Relief made the horrid environment suddenly far more tolerable. “Let me guess. This slave is a tall, blond human?” Given their penchant for freedom, Honor had no doubt it was Carver leading the rebellion. What shocked him was how much the notion pleased him. He didn’t like to think of the man cowering and being beaten. To find out he wasn’t was excellent news.

  “I do not know. This is the image they sent.” The pilot sent the image to Honor.

  Using his wrist communicator, he projected the holograph into the air in front of him. A massive man with a powerful chest was riding atop a four-legged beast. He wore a white veil and cape that covered him completely but for his eyes. When Honor zoomed into that portion of the photograph, he found a riveting green gaze. There was no doubt in his mind that he was looking at Carver Tam.

  “Where are the rebels located?”

  “They are on top of the unharvested field of jild.”

  “Smart.”

  “Sir?”

  “The owner dare not use excessive force because he fears harming the bulbs.” Honor was now doubly impressed with Carver for not only standing up for his rights but having the brains to do it without getting himself blown to bits. However, Honor was a bit disappointed that the owner showed not one bit of care for the slaves. Had they not elected to stay on top of the unharvested field, they would no doubt be dead.

  “The owner is not the man you spoke with,” devotee said.

  Honor had
just assumed the owner lived on the planet so that he could keep tabs on his investment. “Where is the owner?”

  “He is on another planet. His representative is the one who refused to let you land.”

  “Ah.” That explained his reluctance. He probably feared word getting out that he couldn’t handle his own slaves. Rebellion had a tendency to beget more rebellion. If all of the slaves on the planet revolted… “I must retrieve the Earthling.”

  “They have no weapons other than the overseer’s whip.”

  Honor considered that the owner could have simply shot them, but he thought the blood would leak into the sand, damaging the jild. And gas weapons either wouldn’t work in the dry air or might cause vomiting. That would ruin his product, too.

  “I will go out to them.”

  The pilot nodded and went toward the back where extra gear was kept in a series of lockers.

  “I will go alone.”

  He turned and considered Honor for a moment then offered out a protective head covering. Honor accepted the garment and pulled it over his head so the beige fabric would trail down and cover his chest. Since the heat was impossible, he removed his weapon-riddled belt. He wore only the headdress, his trousers, and boots. Unlike humans, the Krase didn’t sweat to cool their bodies. Since he was large, it took longer for the heat to be an issue, and having the light-colored fabric to give him a semblance of shade would help, but Honor knew he couldn’t remain in the heat for long.

  “You take no weapon?” His pilot sounded stunned.

  “I am not here to arrest him but to offer him freedom. Something he clearly wants, given his actions.”

  “But what if they are hostile to you?”

  “Then I will probably die and you should be ready to leave.” Honor left the shuttle. When he stepped out into the sand, he immediately realized the impracticality of his boots, but he had nothing else to wear. He trudged forward, squinting against the glare. The star that Bewen revolved around was fairly white, which made the light bouncing off the white sand almost blinding. Far off in the distance, Honor saw the rebels’ camp. They had white tents clustered in a small group. There were guards stationed around the area, watching for movement. Their attention was on him from the moment he left the shuttle. Honor had no doubt they’d watched it land and were tracking his movement across the desert.