The Torgoran Revolt (Plundering the Stars Book 3) Read online

  I’d arrived at a public flogging.

  10

  Jinx

  The soldier didn’t say any charges or give any sort of speech or warning. Or maybe he had ,and I’d missed it before we arrived. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man before me, a young man, maybe a decade my senior.

  Off to the side was a woman with light red hair similar to mine and a little girl in her grip, both of whom were crying as they watched. His family.

  The soldier raised his arm, and the whip. My breath caught in my throat. My heart stopped. The soldier brought the whip down.

  The lash landed with a CRACK! The father let out a cry as blood sprayed the air. A sob choked in my throat. Another crack. More blood, more screams, more pain. Each one opened an old wound within me, memories I’d long tried to hide. As a house slave, I hadn’t received as many lashings as those that worked the fields, those that broke their backs and hope in the mines, but still, I hadn’t been spared the crack of the whip.

  They made all the slaves watch usually, a reminder for us that if we misbehaved, the same fate awaited us. That was what this was. These people weren’t slaves in the legal sense, but they may as well have been. They were slaves to this regime, powerless to do a thing before Tarvath.

  I thought I could cover my ears and hope for this to end, but then the little girl broke free from her mother and ran from the crowd and to her father.

  No.

  The soldier didn’t care that it was just a little girl. She was a civilian out of line, and they couldn’t have that, could they?

  He wound back, ready to whip the girl.

  Before I could think, my legs were moving. I felt Jax and Caveen pull against me, but they couldn’t stop me.

  I broke free of them. I broke free of the crowd. The soldier’s arm was all the way back. My feet carried me swiftly, faster than I’d ever run. The whip rose. Then his arm started to come forward. I was fast, but he was faster.

  I wouldn’t be able to reach him. I wouldn’t be able to stop him. But there was something I could do.

  The whip came down. I dove. I heard crack cut through the silence of the air. My arms were around the girl, my body shielding her.

  I felt the pain as the whip raked across my back and tore open my flesh.

  It brought me back to when I was ten. The mistress’s daughter had beaten one of my friends, another one of the child slaves. She wasn’t Torgoran, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel kinship with her.

  When the daughter went to hurt my friend again, I’d snapped and pushed her down the stairs. I’d smiled as she fell hard, her voice gasping with each bang of the stairs. She hit the bottom hard, some bones broken.

  For that, I didn’t get the Pit. No, I’d assaulted one of my masters. The punishment for that was twenty lashings. It didn’t matter that I was a child with no muscle or fat to withstand the beating. If I died, I died. I was expendable, a simple house slave. They could get a new one. But my punishment had to be seen, had to be given.

  A slave could not touch their master.

  They brought me out in front of the estate and had every slave attend, all the guards and guests too—about a hundred and fifty pairs of eyes on me. They stripped me down and tied my arms to two posts so that I knelt, my warms out wide, my back fully exposed.

  Then they began without ceremony, without charges or speeches. The whipping was enough.

  I was lucky they didn’t kill me. They could have. I wished they had.

  The first one had been the worst. So much anticipation for the blow, knowing what was coming, not knowing how bad it would be. It opened a wound from one shoulder blade to the other. The shock of it had rendered me frozen.

  The second one took my breath away and made tears come to my eyes, the shock of the initial strike wearing down and the pain coming at me with full force. The pain was so great that I screamed my throat raw, until there was nothing left.

  I screamed through the third, fourth, and fifth lash. No help came. No comfort came, no relief. Just hundreds of hollow gazes watching me as I bled and cried. The soldier who did the whipping cursed and spat at me and called me terrible things, called me worthless.

  The final fifteen lashes came in a daze. I barely recalled them, as if I was in a trance, a dream, a nightmare. I was cried out. When it was over, they left me there all night, my back torn open, soaked in blood, naked and shivering in the cold. Me, a small girl. It was the worst night of my life, because I didn’t sleep one bit, though I would have loved to sleep, was desperate for it. Sleep was an escape from the pain, but it never came.

  At dawn, some slaves came and retrieved me and took me to the infirmary where they took all the slaves when they got hurt working or had to be beaten. The doc, who was just a local veterinarian as we didn’t warrant a real doctor, cleaned me up and stitched my back. I didn’t have any permanent damage, though my back would forever be a mess of scars. The true mark of a slave. I was told later that some of the wounds cut to the bone.

  I wasn’t a slave for much longer, but I held the memory of that day close to me.

  I felt the pain of those lashings all over again when this new tormentor whipped me. The sting was terrible, making tears come to my eyes without warning, but I could bear this pain. I couldn’t let this child take it.

  “You worthless havesk!” they spat, their words like venom.

  They wound up to whip me again. The crowd was stunned into silence. Jax and Caveen were moving, but it was slow motion. The pain in my back was awful and took me to a bad place. But it didn’t make me crumble, it made me rage.

  My knife slipped from its sheath at my ankle and into my hand. Not a grav-blade, but a simple blade of iron—pure and cold and just as lethal. I looked into the girl’s eyes. They were bloodshot from so many tears, her eyes hollow and wild with pain. I’d had those same eyes.

  But no more.

  I whirled around fast as lightning, caught the soldier’s arm mid-swing, and jammed my knife into his olive-skinned neck.

  The gasp that went through the crowd was like a shockwave. The soldier’s eyes went wide, they bulged. He looked me in the eye, then down at my hands. I grimaced, spat in his face, and pulled my knife free. Blood erupted from the wounds, pouring down my arm, my sleeves drenched in the warmth of him. He grasped uselessly at his neck for but a second before he clattered to the ground, dead.

  Stunned silence. No one moved.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  The other soldiers snapped out of their shock and stepped forward, blasters raised. I thought I was about to die, but then blaster bolts rang out and slammed into the soldiers. The crowd went wild and scattered in all directions.

  I turned in time to find Jax and Caveen surging toward me. Jax’s eyes were narrowed, his gaze and gait determined, in battle mode. He saw me, then raised his blaster and fired past me. I took a step toward him, but then the pain in my back finally decided to flare. I winced and stumbled. Caveen caught me.

  “Grab her, Caveen!” Jax demanded. “Let’s go!”

  I pushed Caveen away. “No! We need to help the man!”

  Jax looked at me like I was crazy, but I wouldn’t budge from this, and he knew this. He cursed and nodded.

  “Caveen, take her and the girl and get them to the speeder.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Right now!”

  Caveen yelped and wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me up. As we came to our feet, a soldier broke through the crowd and came right at us. Caveen had his hands full with me. We’d be shot. My arms moved. I found the pistol at my hip, pulled it free, and shot. The bolt hit the soldier square in the chest. He let out a cry and dropped hard.

  Two. Two lives I’d ended today. Didn’t have time to process that, but I was still angry. Righteous with fury.

  I found the girl. I grabbed her arm and pulled her after me and Caveen. She sobbed but didn’t pull against me. Each step hurt, each step made blood fall down my back, but he had to
get out of there. I risked a glance back. Jax stood by the whipping post and fired at soldiers that tried to get a shot at him through the crowd. Behind him was the mother, the man’s wife I assumed. She fumbled at his bindings, but they were grav-locks. They needed an electric key.

  Jax turned to her and shot the locks, which made them crack and free her husband, who crumbled. That…would also unlock them, yes.

  She and Jax lifted him between them, one arm around him each. Soldiers’ blaster bolts zipped around them, but there were so many people that they were spared. I had to pray to Materelle that they’d make it.

  I focused on my own legs. It was hard enough to make sure I didn’t collapse without worrying about Jax. Caveen led me and the girl the few blocks to the speeder. It took all my willpower not to cry when it came into view. There were a few Urdetans—a small scavenger species that liked to, well, scavenge—hanging around our speeder. Caveen shot his blaster into the air and they scattered like insects.

  He helped me into the back seat, though I didn’t lay down like I wanted because I knew the father would need the space.

  The girl was shaking as she climbed in next to me. Despite my pain, I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It will be okay, little one. My friend Jax is a very good soldier. He’ll get your mom and dad back safely.”

  She didn’t look convinced. Caveen got the engine started. The speeder rose, humming, ready to go. I wiped the girl’s tears.

  “What’s your name, sweet thing?” I asked her.

  She sniffled, snot mixing with her tears. She wiped her face against her already filthy sleeve.

  “A-Alma…”

  I smiled at her. I hoped I hid the pain that was screaming inside.

  “That’s such a pretty name. Nice to meet you. I’m Jinx.”

  “Hi, J-Jinx.”

  “This is Caveen. He’s gonna get us out of here safe and sound. Aren’t you, Caveen?”

  He looked back at me. The scared, shy boy I’d gotten to know that morning was gone. This person was a grizzled soldier, his eyes focused.

  “We sure are.”

  “See,” I said with a smile at Alma. “You know, that was very brave what you did back there. You wanted to protect your dad. Not everyone has that courage.”

  A sob broke from Alma. “I— I guess…”

  “Being brave and standing up to the bad guys is how the good guys win. We all need to be as brave as you.”

  I could tell she wasn’t totally convinced, but she nodded. I didn’t blame her. This was just about as traumatic an experience as a girl her age could endure without losing her mind. She was stronger than she looked.

  Before I could say anything else, movement caught my eye. Jax and Alma’s parents came around the corner. Blood ran down Jax’s forehead from where a blaster bolt must have just missed him. Any closer and he would have been dead.

  Alma and I moved over as much as we could so there was room for her dad. He was still conscious, but I wasn’t sure he was fully aware of where he was. His eyes had a distant, vacant look about them.

  Jax and the mother climbed into the front.

  “Go!” Jax barked. Caveen didn’t hesitate. He pulled back on the stick and the speeder rose into the air. We shot away, the trash city falling away behind us.

  For a while, we sat in silence, taking the time to settle down and catch our wits about what just happened. Everything had happened so fast. I was still stunned, still breathless. Pain still cocooned around me, emanating from my back, but I knew it would get worse later. I was running on adrenaline and shock. When those settled, I would probably black out.

  The silence was broken when Jax whirled around to face me, his face red with anger. “What the hell were you thinking, Jinx? You could have gotten yourself killed!”

  I was not about to take that. I didn’t do what I did lightly.

  “I was thinking that a soldier was about to kill this little girl or at least seriously hurt her and I wasn’t going to allow that!”

  He threw his hands up. “Ugh, you don’t even think about what you mean to me, to the resistance.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think. It was instinct.” I glared right back at him.

  We glowered at each other for a long while, both of us wanting to show how mad we were with the other. Truthfully, I was still steamed that he’d drugged and kidnapped me and forced me into the resistance, but who was counting? Finally, though, he sighed, his features softening with concern.

  “Are you okay? I saw the whip hit you, but I couldn’t tell how bad it was.”

  I looked away and stared over the side of the speeder as the wind whipped around us and the trashy landscape zipped past. “I’m okay. It’s nothing I haven’t endured before.”

  He sucked in a breath. “What?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I turned back to him and looked to the mother seated beside him. “I’m sorry about all of this. I just couldn’t sit by and watch. I’m Jinx.”

  Like Alma, she had short mahogany hair, plump cheeks, and dark green eyes. She wore eye shadow that was streaked with tears. She took my hand. Her palms were rough and callused. Worker hands.

  “I’m… I’m Nellian.” She swiped at her eyes. “Thank you so much.”

  I smiled at her, trying to be as sincere and comforting as I could. “There’s no need. I’d do it again.”

  She sniffled. Her eyes went to Jax. “You’re with the resistance you said?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m from off world, but the local bases will help you relocate safely and heal your husband. We have plenty of biogel stocked. I’m sorry to say that you won’t be able to return to your home.”

  Nellian nodded. “I-I understand.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Tears fell down her cheeks, but she tried to hold them back. “It’s okay. Home is about Alma and Sepho, not material things.”

  Jax smiled. “That’s a good outlook to have. And I’m sure we can get a local squad to drop by your home discreetly and pick up some things for you if need be.”

  “Thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

  I smiled as I watched this exchange, doing my best to ignore my pain. Alma sat in my lap, and her hands were bunched in my pants. I held her close, like the little sister I never had. She reminded me so much of the other little slave girls from my childhood. I wish I could have spared them the pain then as I did for her today.

  “So,” I began, “why was Sepho being whipped, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Nellian gulped hard and blinked back tears. “It’s my fault. Some of the soldiers made some unwanted advances on me. All the time. I did my best to ignore it, but this time, they took it a step too far and Seph… He just wanted to defend me…so he-he punched one of them.”

  I felt Alma shake against me, her grip tightening as she held me. I hugged her tighter. Nellian’s story was so familiar. It was a story shared by every indentured and enslaved woman everywhere. We’d all had to deal with these sorts of things. And if we dared to defend ourselves? Grave consequences.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered back. “I understand all too well what you’ve gone through.”

  She nodded, sharing a connection with me. Jax looked between us, confused, questions floating off him. We were separated a year before I was first whipped. He knew nothing of the worst things I’d experienced as a slave. And when I’d started to become an adolescent… Well, those were especially rough years.

  We rode in silence after that. We were almost back to the base. I didn’t make it back, though. Within minutes, the pain and blood loss became too much for me, and I drifted into unconsciousness. The last thing I remembered was Alma crying and asking if I was okay, followed by the panicked voice of Jax asking the same.

  I wanted to reassure him, but honestly, I couldn’t even reassure myself.

  I came to in a long room made of cold cement and lit by dim yellow lighting. It was a sickly yellow, not very welcoming. I
sat up, gasped from pain, and laid back down.

  “Whoa, take it easy,” said a voice beside me. Jax. “The biogel hasn’t fully taken effect yet. You need to rest.”

  I swallowed hard. My eyes darted around the room. It was an infirmary. Beds stretched all around, wall to wall, a third of which were occupied. Torgoran men and women with various injuries. Some were missing limbs, others were asleep and may have just been sick or something equally benign. One bed was occupied by Sepho, who was shirtless, his torso covered in bandages, with IVs and other wires all over him. I didn’t spy Alma or Nellian.

  I craned my neck to look at Jax. “Is Sepho okay?”

  Jax smiled. “Always thinking of others, Jinx.” His gaze went to our Torgoran friend. “He lost a lot of blood, and one of the lashings bruised his spine it cut so deep. He’ll have to be bedridden for a while and won’t be able to work for a few months even with the biogel, but he’ll recover.”

  “Materelle is good,” I sighed, laying my head against the pillow.

  “Jinx,” Jax said sharply, his tone suddenly dire. I looked at him. His face was stricken, as if he’d seen something horrible.

  “Yes?”

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his thumb rubbing it gently. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I frowned, my brows furrowing. I still didn’t understand.

  “Tell you what, Jax? What are you babbling about?”

  “I saw your back.”

  Oh.

  Straining, I sat up, my grip tight on the sheets covering me. I was in a thin shirt, with bandages around my chest. Each movement pulled against my wounds. They’d put biogel on it I could tell, from the familiar itch of mending flesh crawled across my back. I wanted to scratch it desperately, but that was unwise.

  I gulped. “It’s in the past, Jax.”

  He pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me? I… I…”

  “What? What could you have done?” I demanded, my voice rising. I didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t want to think about it. Dredging up the ugliness of my past, sifting through that pain, I didn’t want to do that. Getting whipped earlier was bad enough. It brought back all those memories. Talking it out was not an option. Not for Jax, not for Yan, not for anyone.