Heydar didn’t hesitate, tossing them to the ground at once, to Darla’s surprise. He stayed still but turned his head toward her.

“Dohrags,” he said quietly. “Do not make eye contact with them, no matter what.”

Darla felt her blood run cold. If these were Dohrags, then they were in some serious trouble. No wonder Heydar had given up his weapons so readily. From his description of them, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill just for sport, let alone any perceived threat. The fact they were willing to take prisoners was about the only good luck they were going to get out of this encounter.

The bushes rustled as five armed troopers stepped out into view. Darla didn’t look at them directly, but she did manage to catch a glimpse with her peripheral vision, and that was more than enough to shake her to her core.

The Dohrags were shorter than Heydar, but were still tall. Muscular as well, but not overly so. They had blue-gray skin stretched across their broad faces. With almost no protruding noses, the appearance of the leaner ones was almost skeletal. The meatier of them were almost attractive in their own way, save for the wide, flat foreheads that looked as though they could headbutt the most belligerent barroom drunk into oblivion with a single blow.

They were bipedal, with two arms and hands that seemed normal enough by Darla’s standards. She couldn’t make out any more though as they were clad in futuristic uniforms that covered them from their necks to their wrists and ankles. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though there might even be some sort of armoring built into the outfits, though they appeared flexible enough.

They had tattooed lines running up to their ears from inside the high collars of their uniforms, a now familiar translation rune inked behind them. Darla would have to ask Heydar if the additional connection to the designs concealed in their armor gave them some sort of additional oomph or if it was just a decorative thing.

If they survived this, that is.

She scanned their captors with a critical eye, taking in any details that might possibly prove helpful. The gear strapped to their bodies stood out compared to the native Oraku people. Where the latter carried knives and spears, the Dohrags were sporting high-tech alien equipment, secured to their uniforms by some invisible means rather than belts and straps. Most importantly, each of them carried a large blaster type weapon in their hands in addition to the smaller unit mounted on their hips.

No way he could have taken them on, she realized. It would be suicide.

She glanced toward Heydar, her face still cast low, steering well clear of the Dohrags’ gaze. The apparent leader noted her movement regardless and strode to her in a flash, almost charging like a silverback gorilla might. It was terrifying, but she didn’t think he meant to harm her. At least, not yet.

He reached out a gloved hand and grabbed her chin in a steely grip, lifting her face up for him to study. She forced her eyes toward the ground, even as he leaned in close, sniffing her curiously. He then turned her head side to side, examining the shape of her skull and features.

His eyes flicked lower, taking in the rest of her body in a glance. He grabbed her breast roughly, squeezing hard, eliciting not pleasure but pain. Darla winced but forced herself to remain silent. Heydar’s eyes flashed with anger, staring toward the ground, but only just. The Dohrag ignored him, grabbing Darla’s other breast, giving it a squeeze, then shrugging, unimpressed.

“A weak race,” he said to his men. “I have not seen this one before, but whatever she is, her kind are clearly not sturdy at all. I fear we may break her, boys.”

His men laughed, a loud, rumbling roar of ill-spirited mirth. Heydar’s rage flooded him, his head lifting to stare fully at the Dohrag leader. If looks could kill, the man would have been dead in under a second.

“You dare gaze upon Marshal Jinnix?” the ruffian growled, slapping him across the face.

Heydar’s jaw flexed, but he somehow managed to remain silent. He was good with a knife and could likely cause a fair amount of damage before they stopped him. But stop him they would. This was an unwinnable situation and they both knew it.

Darla looked up at him, willing him to see her. Sensing her stare, he glanced at her, locking eyes a moment. She shook her head, mouthing the word no, then turned her eyes down once more.

Heydar’s muscles relaxed slightly with a defeated sigh. He lowered his gaze, even bowing his head slightly.

“You’d do well to remember your place,” the one called Jinnix said, nodding to his men.

One stepped in and hit Heydar hard with the butt of his weapon while the others quickly bound his arms. A small trickle of blood ran from his temple, but the beating stopped there.

“You may live. For now, at least,” Jinnix said. “He’s a strong one. Good enough for labor at our camp.”

“And this one?” a trooper asked, gesturing at Darla.

Jinnix pondered a moment, then pulled her close, sniffing her hair while staring at Heydar, daring him to respond.

“We’ll take her with. I’m sure we can find something she will be good for.”

Now it was Darla’s turn to feel angry. Exhausted as she was, she felt power begin to grow within her, surging through her body. She glanced down and realized her tattoos were churning under her skin once more. And they were getting more active by the second.

Heydar shook his head with an urgent look in his eye. He appreciated her fire, no doubt, but if the Dohrags saw her unusual pigment reaction, there was no telling what they might do to her.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. If she couldn’t manage that feat, she might be a dead woman. At least, sooner than later.

The tattoos fell silent just as the Dohrag troops bound her hands, shoving her into a forced march along with Heydar. She couldn’t help but marvel at the turn their day had taken. Things had gone from pretty damn nice to utter shit in a heartbeat. And she was worried they would only get worse.

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Darla and Heydar were separated, the burly alien captive at the front of the group and closely watched, while the human was forced to bring up the rear, a lone Dohrag pushing her along in front of him.

Despite outnumbering him by a lot, the Dohrag were not taking any chances with Heydar. He was an imposing man, and his musculature made even the otherwise intimidating troopers seem somewhat small by comparison. It was something their captors appeared acutely aware of. And uneasy men with big guns and a modicum of power was a recipe for trouble.

But it seemed to be more than that. The way they stole glances at him showed something other than just concern in their eyes. It looked like spite. Maybe even hate. Darla realized that with these different alien races it was entirely possible some sort of conflict already existed between them. Aside from the most basic, superficial details, she really didn’t know anything about the Dohrag, or Heydar’s Nimenni people for that matter. For all she knew there could be a long-standing blood feud between them.

Or not.

The Dohrag could also just be a bunch of assholes. Whatever the case, they were not taking their male captive lightly.

Darla, on the other hand, was treated as almost an afterthought. They were unfamiliar with her species, but it was abundantly clear the menacing aliens saw her as no more than a small, weak female they could do with as they pleased.

“Keep up,” the trooper behind her said, prodding her with his weapon.

She had seen enough action movies in her time to know you should never get that close to a prisoner. If only she possessed the martial arts and military skills of those cinematic heroes, she would have been in the perfect position to disarm one and take out the others from behind before they knew what hit them.