Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

LILA

B uckle up, sunshine. My diplomatic mission is about as smooth as a space slug covered in molasses.

The ship’s cold metal thrums under my gloved fingers, a shaky lullaby as we hurtle through the vast emptiness of space. Officially, it’s a ship of peace. Unofficially, it feels more like a flimsy tin can held together by a thousand silent prayers.

“Approaching the neutral zone,” the bridge officer announces. Every word bounces off the metal walls.

Lila, emissary extraordinaire here, reporting for duty. Or rather a sacrificial lamb headed straight for the war zone.

These warlords are the reason I’m strapped into this flying deathtrap, have a unique definition of diplomacy. Their idea of a peace treaty involves a plasma cannon to the face, not a handshake.

But hey, when your planet’s on its knees, you don’t get to pick your dance partners.

“Steady,” I mutter, more to calm my own racing heart than the bridge crew. My fancy diplomatic suit feels like it’s painted on, every breath a struggle. I long for the worn comfort of my old Earth jeans and the familiar weight of my blaster — neither of which are exactly appropriate for this charade.

“Anything on the scanners?” I ask, trying to sound casual. My question is met with a wall of stiff backs and even stiffer silences. The crew’s fear is a living thing, slithering up my spine and squeezing the air from my lungs.

“Nothing yet, Emissary,” replies a young lieutenant, his three eyes darting across the console with the jitters of a cornered space rodent.

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way,” I say, injecting a confidence I’m far from feeling into my tone. This ship feels like a child’s toy against the backdrop of an indifferent universe. And somewhere out there, in the dark void, are the warlords.

And I wouldn’t put it past them to send battleships to just blow us out of their territory and screw any chance my now home planet has to avoid another war.

Back when Earth was still in the galaxy, humans were too arrogant and believed aliens would cater to us. Now the only thing left is a black hole.

I’m no diplomat. I’m a fighter, always have been. But words are my weapons now, heavier than any blaster ever could be. But I got nominated by my planet and kinda feel obligated to help them out and stop the constant raids and attacks on Kylor.

“Remember, we’re here to open a dialogue,” I remind the crew, though it’s mostly to remind myself. “And preferably come back in one piece.”

“Sure,” a crew member with beads woven into his braids mutters, “and maybe pigs will fly out of the airlock.”

I shoot him a glare that’s all teeth and no smile. “Optimism, remember? We agreed on optimism.”

“Apologies, Emissary,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry in the least.

“Whatever’s the outcome,” I continue, my gaze sweeping over the crew, “we face it together. For Kylor.”

A chorus of mumbled affirmations greets me, but their eyes tell a different story—one of barely veiled terror and a healthy dose of skepticism.

“Stay sharp,” I command, the silence growing suffocating.

Just as the words leave my lips, a warning siren cuts through the air, a bloodcurdling wail.

“Shields up!” I bark, adrenaline surging through me as I grab the nearest console. The dread that’s been gnawing at my insides crystallizes into a razor-sharp focus. This is it. The moment of truth—or the last few seconds before oblivion.

“Something’s coming,” someone gasps, and I can feel it too—a shadow looming over us, as inevitable as the cold, distant stars.

“Talk about a reception committee.” I steel myself for what comes next. The space around our ship distorts, a sickening ripple across the vast canvas of stars. It’s like reality itself is hiccupping.

Then, with the grace of a falling asteroid, a massive warship bleeds through the anomaly, its jagged edges casting an ominous shadow that swallows us whole.

“Contact!” The cry is a death knell, echoing off the walls as the world around me explodes in chaos. I barely register the impact; the ship shudders and groans, throwing me into a weightless tumble. Alarms blare, red lights flashing in my face as the crew scrambles into a ballet of panic.

“Boarded! We’re being boarded!” The words are distant, drowned out by the horrible sounds of tearing metal and shattering glass. How the hell did they get through our shields?

I claw my way to my feet, grabbing onto a fractured console for support. Smoke stings my eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the sight before me.

A towering orc warrior, all raw power and primal rage, barrels through the gaping hole ripped in the hull. He’s a mountain of muscle and savage grace, his eyes burning with intensity.

“Back off, ugly,” I spit out, defiance flaring hot and reckless,

His only answer is a guttural snarl as he advances, the ground vibrating with each earth-shaking step. Panic claws at my throat, but I refuse to go down without a fight.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners?” I taunt, channeling my fear into bravado, even as my heart hammers a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

He halts, his dark eyes narrowing as they rake over me. For a heartbeat, something flashes in their depths — amusement? Surprise? Whatever it is, it disappears as quickly as it came.

“Human,” he growls the word.

“Orc,” I shoot back. “Heard of personal space?”

His grip doesn’t loosen. With brute force that makes me feel like a rag-doll, he snatches me up and throws me over his broad shoulder as if I weigh no more than a feather.

“Put me down, you overgrown?—!”

“Silence,” he commands in a gravelly rasp that vibrates through my body.

“Nice try, big guy,” I snap, the world tilting precariously as we weave through the carnage. Despite the terror clawing at me, there’s a spark of irrational irritation at his ease. How dare he be so… collected?

“But you’ll need more than grunts to shut me up.”

And my crew are battling the huge ship that’s attacking our shields.

“Shot! Here!” I flail, trying to get my crew’s attention, but they’re busy trying to keep our ship from being torn apart.

The orc lets out a humorless bark of a laugh, sending shivers through me. And he simply strides through the wreckage with a purposeful swagger that speaks of undeniable power and a disturbing sense of familiarity.

I scream with all my might, but when someone does hear me, the orc shoots them and they collapse with smoke sizzling from their chest.

“Oh my God, you killed him.” I hit the orc’s back as hard as I can but it doesn’t faze him. Sure the guy was a warlord who would probably do the same to me and some would say self-defense, but how can I plead for peace with dead bodies littering my vessel?

As we exit what’s left of the ship, he heads in the opposite direction of the massive warship.

“Where are you taking me?”

Instead of answering, he teleports us onto another vessel. This one is much smaller than both the warship and the diplomatic one that came with my election.

“You’re not with the warlords?” I ask, but I’ve no idea what the hell is going on. “You used their attack as a distraction.”

He shrugs.

My breath catches — this is just the beginning. Whatever twisted fate awaits me, I’m entirely at the mercy of this ruthless orc warrior until I can take him by surprise and escape.

An acrid scent of blood and burning metal fills my nostrils as he throws me into a cage that reminds me of a metal zoo enclosure. The clang of the metal door reverberates through the cavernous hall, a haunting symphony of defeat.

“Enjoy your stay,” he growls, sarcasm dripping like venom.

I scramble to stand. “Why am I here? What do you want with me?” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m a tangled mess of fear and fury.

The orc — this towering mass of muscle and barely contained violence — leans in close, his breath hot on my cheek. “You are a bargaining chip,” he snarls, his dark eyes burning into mine.

“Great, kidnapped by an orc with delusions of grandeur.” I spit back, refusing to show the fear that threatens to crack my facade.

His gaze narrows, anger radiating off him. “Watch your tongue, human,” he warns, his low timbre making me shiver in a way it shouldn’t.

“Or what? You’ll throw me in another cage?” I snap, meeting his intense stare head-on.

He doesn’t respond. He simply turns on his heel and strides away, leaving me alone with the ship’s oppressive hum and the gnawing fear in my gut.

The air is thick with the stench of sweat and something else, something metallic and alien.

“Fantastic,” I mutter under my breath, pacing the confines of my cell like a caged lioness. “First month as a diplomat and I’m in a bloody brig.”

Just as I’m about to resign myself to a fate worse than death, a clatter from outside my cell makes me jump. I press myself against the bars, straining to see through the dim light. There’s movement in the shadows, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

“Back for more delightful banter?” I call out, hoping my words carry enough bravado to mask the apprehension gnawing at me.

But it’s the same orc who brought me here. Is he the only one on onboard with me? Wouldn’t doubt it since the little bits of seen of his ship.

A cruel glint in his eyes, his gaze devoid of the spark of… curiosity? Maybe I imagined it. My stomach churns with a fresh wave of dread.

“Garoth has plans for you, human,” he grunts, his words sending a chill down my spine. “Plans that don’t involve negotiations.”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “I’m flattered,” I reply. “Though considering the current state of my accommodations, I can’t imagine anything more delightful than a decent meal and a bed that doesn’t feel like it was forged in the fires of orc-hell.”

He laughs and leaves me.

Feels like forever as I try to pry the lock open. But finally, I give up and slump against the back wall of the cage. I just need to stay sharp. Something will happen and I’ll be able to escape.

My stomach growls and I had planned on eating after my warlords’ meeting. Now with the adrenaline fading, I’m starving.

“Hey, orc, I’m hungry!” I yell.

He appears a moment later and I’m sure this ship of his is even smaller than I first thought.

“There will be no meals, human, only… entertainment.” He leers at me, his gaze lingering on my body in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“Oh, goody,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes — although I doubt he can see the gesture. “Just what I always wanted, to be the entertainment for a barbaric thug.”

He takes a menacing step closer, the bars of the cage the only thing separating us.

“Careful, now,” I warn. “Wouldn’t want your delicate sensibilities to be offended by a little human sass.”

He ignores my jab, his eyes narrowing further. “You think you are brave, human? That you can defy Garoth?”

So that’s his name. I straighten my shoulders, forcing a bravado I don’t entirely feel. “Whether I’m brave or not is irrelevant. I’m here on a mission. Release me or you’ll have a battle on your hands.”

He throws his head back and laughs again, the sound echoing through the metal halls. “A fight, you say? We orcs enjoy a good one. But some fights…” his tone dropping to a low rumble,”…end very differently than you might expect.”

There’s something in his words, in the way he looks at me. Is it fear? Challenge? Or maybe, a strange sense of… attraction? The thought is ridiculous, absurd even. This hulking orc warrior, my captor, could probably crush me with one hand.

Before I can explore this unwelcome thought further, the lights flicker and die, plunging the room into darkness. The alarms blare to life, a shrill, piercing sound that sends a jolt of adrenaline through me.

“Power failure?” I breathe, my bravado gone. Perfect timing. And maybe my crew have beaten the enemy and found me gone so they’re here for a rescue mission.

Go, Team, go!

Yet, the silence stretches, broken only by the ship’s rhythmic clanging and the pounding of my own heart. In the blackness, I can almost feel the orc’s gaze on me, a predator assessing its prey.

“Seems like entertainment might have to wait,” a male rumbles from the shadows. “Unless you’re afraid of a little darkness, human?”

“Darkness doesn’t scare me,” I retort, my tone regaining some of its usual defiance.

There’s a beat of silence, then a gruff chuckle from the darkness. “We’ll see about that, human.”

And even though his footsteps faded away, I have the unsettling feeling of being watched, even in the dark.

Curiosity and fear war within me. What kind of “entertainment”? One thing is certain: my diplomatic mission has taken a very unexpected turn.