She nodded, not saying another word.
He rushed off, hardly able to catch a breath as he ran. Time was of the essence. The hold was in an awkward place with many bolts to remove in order to access it. Once he finally had the hatch removed, he heaved it aside and slid stomach first into the darkness.
That was when the ship rocked as if a bomb had gone off. The impact sent him crashing into the metal side of the ship’s interior, the oxygen canisters ramming against him.
His first thought was with his mate. Ella.
****
When she opened her eyes, there was only a thin slice of light to the side. She sat up straight, feeling groggy. Where was she? What happened to Dhiro?
It had all happened so fast, she scarcely remembered a thing. Something struck the ship, metal on metal at impossible speeds. The entrance of their ship opened soon after and, rather than open space, she could see a flexible corridor leading to another ship.
That was all she could remember.
Now she was here, wherever here was, and she wanted to whisper Dhiro’s name but was scared she wouldn’t get a response, or worse, another man’s voice would answer. Instead, she breathed, focusing on not panicking. At least she was alive—for now.
They must have drugged her, or did the lack of oxygen pull her from consciousness?
There was commotion and muffled voices on the other side of the wall. The Scyathra had a vicious reputation. She’d only been told bits and pieces about them, but knew they had the same fertility issues. Would they rape her? Kill her baby to impregnate her themselves? She was terrified about the prospects.
“You’re with child.”
Ella gasped, instinctually wrapping her arms around her stomach. “Who said that?”
A soft light flicked on. She looked around and realized she was in some type of infirmary. The woman speaking to her had a large scar on her cheek.
“Your child is the key to our fertility crisis.”
“So everyone keeps telling me,” Ella said. “Where’s Dhiro? Where’s my mate?”
“He’s not of our concern. Only you are.”
She was scared to ask more questions but had to know. “Did you kill him?”
“He will not likely survive, but we did not kill him. He’s still aboard the failing ship.”
Ella wasn’t sure if she should be happy or sad. He was alive, but for how long?
“What are you going to do with me?”
The woman didn’t answer.
“What are you going to do with me?” she repeated, more frantically.
Darkness once again returned, and she heard a door click shut. Ella began to cry. She cried—ugly, hard, and loud—and she didn’t give a shit. How had this happened? Everything was perfect and now completely falling apart around her.
She worried about Dhiro and was terrified of being alone without him.
The door opened unceremoniously soon after, the harsh overhead lighting coming on at the same time. She sheltered her eyes until they adjusted.
“You shouldn’t have used the tranquilizers on her. You could have harmed the child!” A man rushed into the room, a team of a few others following behind him. She truly felt like an alien science experiment right now.
The Scyathra were almost the same physically as the Trenuians, large builds and similar features. In fact, they were hard to tell apart at all. Only where Dhiro’s people were reserved and modest in behavior, these people were rough and brutish. They reminded her of criminal organizations on Earth.
She kept silent.
“Does she need to eat?”
Ella frowned. “I can understand English.”
They all looked at each other, appearing surprised. She felt like she was in an episode of Planet of the Apes.
“Are you harmed?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what you gave me. Why am I here? What are you going to do to me?”
Her fears had settled slightly as the leader truly sounded concerned with her safety. Or that of her baby, anyway.
“Our people have been infertile for decades. Your child can change all that before it’s too late.”
“I know all about that,” she said. “The Trenuians plan to create a cure to help everyone.”
He laughed. “No, they would save themselves. They’d be more than happy for us to go extinct.”
“Why?”
“You don’t know anything about our history. Not the truth, anyway. The male you’re with helps ensure we are kept on the fringe of society. They won’t be happy until every last one of us is gone.”
“I don’t understand.”
He used his hands in animation as he spoke, much more human-like than Dhiro and the others on his planet she’d met. “A long time ago, there was a civil war of sorts. One group wanted progress, the other wanted the status quo. Politics, as you’d call it. We were labeled dangerous for being too curious, too inquisitive. The government cast us out, called us criminals, animals, and future generations believed it. That was nearly a century ago.”
“Dhiro’s not a bad man. I’m sure there was a misunderstanding.”
He pounded a fist on the metal table of instruments, sending them scattering to the ground with a clatter. She cringed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
“You’ll send her into premature labor. The child needs to be born healthy for any of this to work,” said the woman from earlier.
Her words appeared to calm him somewhat.
“What will you do to me? My baby?”
He approached her, leaning over so they were almost face to face. She held her breath.
“We’re not animals, little human. Unlike what you may have heard about us, we have no plans on murdering your child … or even you.”
“What about the cure?”
He stood back up straight and shrugged nonchalantly. “They wanted us wiped out, so why should we care about them? The cure will be ours alone.”
“But there are millions of Trenuians that will go extinct without it.”
“Feed her and keep her locked up.”
He left the room with his team. She was their lab rat. And she felt lonelier than ever.
Once everyone was gone, the woman came and sat in the chair near her. She was beautiful in her own way. “My name is Khirana.”
“Will they let me go?”
“No, they need what you have,” she said.
“And after?”
“I will try my best to advocate for you. There is no reason to harm you or the child once we get the umbilical sample.”
“So all your people are infertile?”
“Yes, all. Our scientists, in all their wisdom, created a plague to fight this ongoing war between our people. In their haste, they didn’t realize they’d also render their own people infertile. Fools,” she muttered.
“Your people caused the infertility?”
She shrugged. “I don’t even think they know why they’re fighting each other anymore. The original feuds were with men long since passed on. The plague went too far, and it cost us everything.” Khirana touched her own stomach, her expression solemn.
“The Trenuians don’t even know. They’ve been trying to find a cure for decades.”
“They know. They were the ones to try first but failed. Scientist pitted against scientist. It’s an old battle that needs to end for the sake of all Trenu Zel.”