Chapter 8

Four moons had now passed, and still no trace of her. It was maddening. Unacceptable.

He was starting to lose hope, afraid she might be dead after all.

Still, he wasn't one to give up. He decided he would have to change his method. Instead of hunting every corner of the prison, he started having pack members wait within the city for any signs including the coming and going of inmates from the work yards and those returning from isolation. If the drones got her first for missing work, it was likely she could be in the one place he couldn't get information out of and that was the isolation block. He had another small group continue to search the caves where she was last seen and several spies within other packs to see if any might be hiding her.

He could tell some in the pack were starting to become concerned. He could see it in their eyes. But they didn't question him even if they thought he was losing his mind. Only Freys and Kreed made comments. At first more jokes, then they too started to get worried.

"Who knows, she might have fallen in the caves. Maybe she fell in a hole and died," Freys said.

"They would have caught her scent and found the body by now," Kreed commented on Draka's behalf, noticing his irritated expression at having to hear that possibility for the dozenth time. "And there are only a few water sources, but they too have been checked. Her body would have floated out by now." Draka would have thanked Kreed for his defense if his next words weren't, "She probably got eaten by the skalegs. She got too far from the protection of the city."

"Maybe," Freys said. "But they might have found bones by then, eh?" He'd turned to Draka. "I think it's time to call off the hunt. Get back to working on the you-know-what. Now that we got more fuel coming in, we could be done soon."

"Right, what do you say, Draka?" Kreed said, agreeing. "I know we're all desperate for a good rut, but I'll bet you could get a few members to lay for you. Just close your eyes and use your imagination."

"I'm willing to bet Ruus and Dreek would happily oblige," said Freys, grinning like a fool.

They laughed and Draka would have considered cracking their skulls together if he didn't need them to keep their haven in check.

Sick of the jokes and the uncertain glances of his men when they thought he didn't see, he'd started avoiding them. All except for one.

He found himself inside the lab more now than ever, hiding away from the others and finding peace in Oza's presence. The ashora didn't speak much, but Draka knew he listened well. Sometimes Draka worked beside him, helping, other times he just sat and watched when he could tell Oza wanted space. Draka found the ashora surprisingly easy to talk to. He could go off on a full rant, thinking Oza wasn't listening until, after a pause, the ashora would stop what he was doing and look over and ask him a question or two, or even give some advice in turn. He was the only one who gave Draka hope he might find the human female. Oza didn't crack jokes about her death but implied that Draka not only could find her but might actually have a chance to win her if he took his advice to heart.

"Listen to her when she has concerns. If she doesn't like something or seems irritated, don't blow it off," Oza mentioned. "Treat her with respect, especially in front of your men. Not a piece of meat. She won't like submitting to you if you don't treat her at least like she's more than just a pet."

"Do you think she would?" Draka replied.

"What?"

"Submit to me."

Oza went quiet for a moment, then said, "Is that really what you want? A slave?"

"No. But I like the idea of her letting go, of submitting to me for the sake of our pleasure, so that I can explore her in all ways."

He thought he'd caught Oza shiver, but he must have been mistaken.

"If she trusts you, she may submit in that way," Oza remarked, stirring contents in a pot viciously while concentrating. Then he turned and pointed a finger at him. "But I would treat her like a queen in all others."

Draka had no qualms with that if the female let him. He trusted Oza to not lead him astray. Only because the ashora swore he knew of someone who had once coupled with a human, and this was what they had told him. If Oza was lying to purposefully destroy Draka's chances, he would regret it. But Draka felt no reason not to believe him.

"Humans do find pleasure in sex, don't they?" he asked, undeniably curious.

Oza didn't turn to him when he said, "Yes."

That was a relief.

"If done right and in a way she likes," he continued. "Every human woman is different."

Of course, why would they not be? He was sure they were as diverse as his own kind.

When he wasn't pestering Oza with these questions, he tried to pry about the ashora's past. His life before Arkona. But Oza was very secretive, giving few answers. Perhaps he was embarrassed about it or had a hard life that he didn't like to recount. Either were acceptable reasons.

Every so often, Oza would ask him a question in return, and he had no problems answering.

"Are you going to share her with the others?" the ashora asked once. "If you find her."

Draka must have made a threatening noise because Oza flinched. "No," he said, unable to keep the harshness out of his voice. He gave Oza an icy glare as he said it. "And if anyone were to touch her, they would find they wouldn't have the pleasure of touching anything ever again."

"I was just curious, Xia," Oza said, his hand shaking a little as he drained one solution into a flask. "You have nothing to fear from me, but I agree you shouldn't let the others near. Some women might like to be shared but…I'm willing to bet this human would prefer not to."

He grunted. "I think she will have enough to deal with when she has only me."

"I'd agree."

They both laughed at that.

Oza looked over his shoulder. "You don't do anything…strange when you…you know."

"When I what?"

Oza rolled his shoulders, clearing his throat. "Strange mating rituals of any kind? Sorry, I don't know sidonion ways."

"Strange mating rituals," Draka repeated.

"Such as…marking your lover after everything is said and done. Or, I don't know, eating her alive while you…mate."

"Ah." Draka hummed, thinking. "I want to taste her. And I'd like to bite her to mark her as mine. But if you mean I'd like to consume her until nothing is left, no, I think not." He smiled. "Unless she tastes too good to resist." He saw Oza shudder, and he couldn't help laughing. "I didn't mean it, Oza, I was just being funny. No, I would only wish to taste her with my tongue, like a delicacy needing to be savored." He leaned back on the table, his claws clicking on the surface. "Also…it is no ritual, but between you and me, I enjoy the hunt. The idea of finding her and ravaging her once I catch her." It was his turn to shudder. "But as you said I would not want to scare her away and make her hate me if she doesn't already."

Oza didn't say much as he swirled the mixture slowly in his flask. He mumbled something after a moment, and Draka thought he heard him say, "She might like the idea of that too, depending on the circumstances."

He felt heat stir in his lower belly at the thought of taking her and her not only giving in but enjoying it like she'd enjoyed herself in the pool.

After so many years of hate and angry detached numbness, feeling the thrill of such heat and feral need was a blessed change. It drove him to want to fight on. Now he was desperate to share these feelings with the one who had awakened them.

On the fifth night, when Oza was done with his work, Draka insisted he join him in the gathering room to play a game of warriors and fiends, feeling down about his failure still to find the woman. He let him go to his room first to eat and recuperate, knowing he was self-conscious about the burns and that it was likely an uncomfortable process to deal with.

After several games played with a team of eight and the board looking altogether too filled with fiends for his liking, Oza showed and his spirits brightened.

"Next to me, Oza. I have saved you a seat," he said, tapping the chair. The ashora approached cautiously. Draka knew he was a careful sort of creature not always comfortable being around the others. But Draka didn't want him to feel unwelcome. The others looked his way, and Freys greeted him as he approached. Oza took the seat next to him without saying a word.

"Do you know how to play?" Draka asked. Oza shook his head no. "I will teach you then. Here, take some of these little pieces of metal. They represent your warriors. You have to get them through the battlefield of fiends without them all dying. You must make it to the center without all your men dying to win. The fiends are the rock pieces on the board and are of different strengths and sizes. You can gain power depending on what you kill to get you to the center. Got it?"

He nodded his head.

"Take the spinner to decide how many spaces the fiends in the area will draw toward you. Each warrior can go one on one with the smaller fiends unless he has extra strength. If it is larger, you'll need a group."

He explained more of the dynamics as they went on, helping Oza along the way. He would have offered him a drink and a pipe to enjoy himself like the others but knew he wouldn't take the helmet off. Instead he assisted him in the game until he could defend himself.

"Are you going out again tonight, Draka?" Targus asked. The lankier uugari eyed Oza as if curious why he was so close next to him.

"Probably," he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. They all knew why. And they all expected him to come back as always, alone and irritable.

"The group you sent out some days ago are still looking. You should just let them and wait for their return," Freys said.

"Maybe. But then I grow restless. It gives me something to do instead of pacing around."

"You could work instead," Kreed said as he moved his little metal men. "On our…project. You know what I mean."

Draka sighed. "Yes, I know." He bumped Oza's knee and snickered when the ashora flinched and tensed. "What do you think, Oza? Should I just stay tonight?"

The ashora seemed to think it over. "You should stay," he said.

"You sure? Because that means you'll have to endure my company some more," Draka said, smirking.

The ashora tilted his head in a sort of shrug, wringing his fingers together. "I think I can endure it."

His smile widened. The little ashora really was warming up to him quickly.

They played a few rounds, and Oza became increasingly better at each one, even winning the last.

"You're a quick learner, Oza," Draka said before rising from his seat. "Come, let's walk a little before you retire. What do you say?"

Oza stared up at him, and Draka wished now he could see his eyes. Oza pushed back his seat to stand next to him. "Alright," he said quietly, as if coming to some sort of conclusion.

The others gave him a weird look. They glanced from him to Draka, but they didn't say a word.

Until Freys decided to open his mouth.

"If you can't find the woman, Draka, it looks like you have a willing partner next to you."

They all chuckled.

"Take him up to your room and you might forget all about the woman," said Targus. "I hear ashora have a similar build to them."

"Just close your eyes," Freys said. "If it's still not enough."

They laughed some more and Draka's mouth twitched. "It sounds like you have experience in this, Freys. How many partners did you have to close your eyes for?"

Freys smirked, then fell quiet when the others looked to him for an answer. "None really," he said at last.

"Probably because your partners are the ones who have to close their eyes."

They all went silent, shocked as they stared at Oza. Draka gaped down at him, also stunned.

Then it was his turn to bark out a laugh.

The others joined in almost immediately after.

"Yeah, with an ugly maw like that," Loth said, hissing.

Draka grinned down at Oza and patted his back. "Come on, let's leave these dirt crawlers." He bared his teeth at Freys who bared them right back.

He turned for the door and was happy to see Oza following right behind, no longer with hesitation.

He strode through the tunnels with little hurry, every so often looking back over his shoulder to see if Oza followed. "You seem like the curious kind, Oza. Yet I don't think I've seen you once out of the lab, exploring on your own. Not curious enough to know what my haven has to offer, eh?"

"That's not true," he said.

"Oh?"

"I'm curious, I just don't want to get lost. I also want to avoid trouble."

"You want to avoid trouble…and yet you follow me." Draka smiled at him. "You're an odd one, Oza."

"I didn't say I was always the smartest," Oza replied.

"Yet, I'd say you're the smartest one here."

He shrugged. "Probably."

Draka hissed out a little laugh. He went up a small flight of stairs and down a short passage, stopping at a doorway with a thick translucent curtain covering it. He drew it back and went inside.

This time, Oza did stop at the door, peering into the darkened room with only a blue and green glow to see by. Draka beckoned him inside. "Don't worry, Oza, it's not my room. I didn't take Freys' advice seriously. Even if I did consider it." He chuckled when he saw Oza place his hands on his hips as if to scold him. "Another joke, Oza, come."

Oza stepped inside. He looked around. "What is this place?"

The chamber was long and filled with rows of lidless tanks one could see down into like a tub. He walked halfway down to one that glowed green. "Come see," he said.

Oza drew to his side and looked down. "What…is that?" he breathed.

Draka reached down into the water and brought out the source of the glow. A tentacle-like plant creature in the shape of a star. "A rare creature. Found in the depths of cave pools. Hard to find." He offered it to Oza who took it in his hand.

"What are they used for?" he asked.

"The theory is that they purify the water. Some say if you drop one into a lake of salt, it will filter the salt from the water in half of a cycle or less"

Oza stared at him. "That's…dangerous."

"And useful," Draka pointed out.

Oza looked down at the star-shaped plant as its tentacles curled around his gloved hand. "Useful…"

"And expensive. I would say worth three billion credits each."

Oza nearly dropped the star, and Draka shot out his hand to steady him. He cupped his hand around Oza's, making sure the creature was secure. "Careful now, they may break easily."

Oza tensed but didn't pull away. His hand was warm and firm.

"What…what will you do with it?" he asked.

"I haven't decided," Draka answered honestly. "In the wrong hands, it could do harm. But three billion credits could be useful when I'm off the planet."

Oza looked at him and Draka could guess what he was thinking. That he hadn't said if he got off but when. Draka's mouth turned up to one side. "Yes, I don't plan to die here. Do you?"

Oza shook his head.

"You said you'd be here for how long?"

"Seventy-five cycles."

"Ashora live about one hundred fifty cycles. I don't know how old you are, but you are no fledgling. So, it may well be half your life, right?"

"Yes."

"This plant might do well in other ways too, no one knows."

"The people who had this base, those who own Arkona, they never thought to take it?"

Draka came around behind him. "Didn't stick around long enough to discover it. They thought the water was the prize they sought."

"But the mines…"

"Have you seen them there?" Draka asked.

Oza appeared to think it over, then shook his head.

"Because they aren't looking in the right place. The mines are more streams than pools. The water is all they want. And if they do find one, they know not what it does."

"How do you?"

"When I first came here, I discovered I wasn't the only sidonion. Another named Kasora did his time here and eventually died here. But before he did, he started his little experiments. He was a scientist and had seen the creature before. He did his tests and discovered some of its usefulness, determining it's worth. He told me about it before he died."

"It's amazing," Oza confessed.

Draka shifted closer so that his chest brushed against Oza's back. The little ashora didn't seem to mind. For one fine moment, Draka almost thought to hug him. By the brightburn gods, he really was desperate for intimacy. He didn't have to do anything. He knew Oza wouldn't want to take off his clothes. It was too bad he couldn't catch his scent with the qualka oil still staining his clothes. He wondered why the ashora was too afraid to take them off and use the ones Draka had offered.

He wished badly he had the human woman. But Oza was at least a nice comfort in her stead.

Before he could put an arm around him, Oza pulled away and gave Draka back the water star.

The ashora turned to him yet couldn't seem to look at him directly. "Draka," he said. "I…"

He didn't continue, yet Draka waited. Oza shook his head. "Never mind, I—" He touched his shoulder and made a noise as if in pain, hunching over.

Draka reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him. "What is it, Oza, are you alright?"

Oza nodded. "Just the burns," he said softly.

Draka frowned, gently squeezing Oza's arm. "You need to see Serbril if the wounds aren't healing."

"I'm fine," he straightened. "They just hurt. I have a salve he gave me. I should go to my room and put more on."

Draka studied him. He would have ordered Oza otherwise, but he didn't want to fight him either. As long as the salve was working.

He released him, still watching him carefully. "Get rest then, Oza."

The ashora nodded.

Draka watched him go. For a moment, he stood there and stared down at the water star in his hand. As he went over to the tank and set it gently back inside, he thought of the human woman, how she might be in danger or suffering somewhere. Then he thought of Oza and how he suffered too. And he regretted he couldn't comfort either of them.