The First Day

Ria stood tall in the center of the room, facing the bay door, her faded green coat zipped up, bag cinched tight to her back. Her hands, covered in rough, itchy gloves, held the straps firmly.

She kept her chin high, no emotion on her face, no sign of the utter terror she was feeling inside as she waited for the door to rise. She wouldn't let the men standing guard around her see. Even as they smirked at her, their guns resting at their sides, knowing what was to come, she didn't give them the satisfaction of tears. She wouldn't beg for them to reconsider. The choice had been made.

She closed her eyes and remembered her day of judgment, remembered thinking there was no way she'd be sent here, to Arkona, a prison world just on the edge of the cleave. A place where the nastiest, foulest creatures lived. Criminals who committed acts against the peaceful societies beyond the cleave.

But now, as impossible as it seemed, she was one of them.

"Andria Reeves," the karaki judge had called her, his yellow eyes narrowed on her. Even she could see the disgust on his reptilian face, one fang slipping from his upper lip. "Your human defendants have asked to place you in a prison of their choosing, within the protected territories. But they forget that you and your crew committed the highest crimes imaginable against the Karaki race. Therefore the council does not consider it fit to send you away with your own."

She had been silent then despite wanting to scream. They weren't her crew. They were her ex's. A gross parasite of a human being she wished she had never let touch her.

But he was dead now. They all were, except her. If she hadn't been out on a run, she'd be dead too. And a part of her wished she was.

She'd seen her defense look guiltily at her from the corner of her eye. Yes, she deserved to be punished, she didn't argue that.

But to send her to Arkona was a death sentence. She would rather just die.

The karaki didn't want her dead, they wanted her to suffer. And they would have done the same to the crew.

"Please reconsider," her defense had said, an older representative from the human embassy, a woman with a stern expression and sharp, intelligent eyes. "She won't survive there. No human does. It's inhumane."

The judge hissed. "What was inhumane was using karaki secretions to enhance their biofuel. That's beyond inhumane. That's evil."

Ria flinched at that and so had her defense. It was true. And she cursed her ex, Marcel, all the while for what he had made her do. He was a conman through and through and he had lied to them all. He had lied to her about where the product had come from, the chemical compound she had used to mix into the product they were making, a special biofuel that would increase the velocity of ships and long-term travel.

And to think she thought she was doing something for the better, improving something. Yes, they were working in a black market but only because of the super strict regulations. Never would she have thought Marcel would have done something like this.

Karaki secretions. You evil bastard,she thought. If she had known, she would have killed him herself.

Karaki had small sacs that formed along their necks when they went through their transformation into an adult phase. The sacs were used to produce natural chemicals and proteins that were needed for them to transition to a stage of maturity. If the sacs were slit open and the secretions from inside taken…the karaki youth didn't die, at least not right away. They whittled away until their bones grew so tender they broke and their skin peeled off their body. Then they would die a slow, painful death.

It was a horrible, awful way to go. And that bastard had somehow paid some thugs to extract it, bringing it to their facility and telling her it was venom from a spinadis gul shark and had the right compounds they needed for the fuel.

Oh, the fuel worked well. Too well. When it was done, she'd gone off to send samples to their suppliers. Only to return with everyone dead, the facility in flames, and karaki soldiers waiting for her.

"Your sentence remains," the judge had said. "You will be sent to Arkona for the maximum term. Seventy-five rotations."

Seventy-five years. But no one expected her to last even one.

Back in the present, she waited for the first day to begin, for the door to open and start the metaphorical timer on her life. She'd overheard the guards talking, making bets on how long she'd last.

Some said a week. Others only a couple of days.

Because what few humans ended up on Arkona were usually the first to go. They were considered the weakest and easiest prey. If they didn't get eaten, they got taken, used in whatever manner the other prisoners saw fit before being discarded. If one found a pack willing to protect them, they'd last a little longer. But it meant selling yourself.

This was all the rumors she'd heard, anyway. Some might have been just to scare her, but she took them seriously.

First, she'd find a place to hide. She'd steal food if she could, then better clothes. That's where she would have to start and hope no one saw her.

The lights of the room dimmed to a low orange, a loud buzzing rang out, and the door began to open. The thick bay door rose, and white light washed into the room, momentarily blinding her. An icy cold nipped right through her coat as the outside air slipped in, sweeping in small flakes of snow.

The guards drew around her as she started to walk with them to the edge of the entrance.

All around was rock and snow, mountains rose in the distance, and to the east and west were several plumes of steam rising into the sky. There were clusters of buildings down the hillside from where they were. People gathered in some parts while others wandered.

One guard, not a karaki but an ashora male, with a much more muscular physique than most of his kind, drew close to her. His skin was a dark gray like the rocks, and his eyes were two large pairs of onyx, black as the depths of space. The color was like her own only she imagined hers had a shine in its depths while his held no spark at all.

"The work areas are that way." He pointed. They let her keep her translators attached to her ears so she could understand. She looked to the northeast and saw buildings. "You'll need to present yourself there every sunrise for work duty."

Well, that put a wrench in her plans to hide. "What if I don't?" she asked, hoping it wasn't required.

He pointed to the sky, to the drones hovering over. "You will have points on your record. Too many points and the drones scan for you and you'll be sent to isolation."

Great.

"The chip keeps track of you," he added.

She looked down at the small band on her wrist that they had given her before sending her to the entrance bay. It was locked to her like a cuff, too tight to slip off her hand. She imagined it would be hard to cut or burn off too. It had a small shimmer to it whenever she turned her arm.

"You'll get your meals there too," he explained. "One in the morning and once before the sun goes down. "

So, between shifts. Even if she didn't want to go to work to be seen, she'd have to if she at least didn't want to starve.

The breeze picked up, making her shiver, tendrils of her black hair brushing against her cheek. She stopped just right after the door and the guards halted with her.

She stared at the vast expanse, noticing a tower way off toward the mountainside.

"Got any other advice for a poor sob like me?" she asked him, not expecting him to give her any.

He looked her over. To her surprise, he took off the scarf around his neck and gave it to her. She took it gladly. The one kind gesture she'd probably ever receive in this place.

"You can try to hide but you'll likely be found," he said after a pause. "Your best bet is to make allies with a group or pack. Yes, they'll make you do things for them. You'll just have to weigh if it's worth their protection or not."

She nodded, expecting this.

He got a little closer, leaning in toward her. "There are big players around here, pack leaders that would probably fight over you like a piece of meat. My biggest advice—especially for you—is to try not getting in their business or their way." He shifted on his feet, as if the next part made him uncomfortable. "And, whatever you do, stay away from Draka."

"Who's Draka?" she asked.

"You'll hear of him. Trust me, if you care for your life at all…don't let him see you."

She'd keep that in mind. She took the scarf and wrapped it around her face, then pulled up the hood of her coat.

"Try not to die," he whispered before she started down the hill. "I've got a bet to win."