Page 104 of Stripped By the Alien

“I think the Gzet see in infrared a lot,” Lucius says. “To them, this is probably a perfectly good image. To you, it may be hard to make out. I’ll try to adjust it.”

The image changes and gets brighter until it’s obviously an Earth woman, bound and wearing a basically transparent sheet of fabric, staring defiantly right into the camera.

“Sophia!” I exclaim. “She’s alive!”

“And to be sold at auction in eighteen hours or so,” Lucius says. “I'm confident about that estimate. Their way of measuring time is logical enough.”

Krix’vorr looks thoughtful. “That’s Sophia? She’s similar to you. The smoothness is unmistakable.”

“Do you know what else she is?” I ask, feeling a white-hot anger at the Gzet. “She’s a living being, a person, an officer in Space Force. A friend. And now she’s been cataloged and tied up and kept in a cage to be sold.” The horror of it makes me shiver and my hands clench to hard fists all by themselves.

“They’re going to sell her,” Lucius points out, turning off the projection. “Can you just… buy her?”

Krix’vorr peers down at me. “Do you have money?”

“No,” I admit, forcing myself to calm down. “But maybe you can lend me some?”

“Money?” he snorts. “We don’t use that. It’s far beneath us and we never keep it around. And paying the Gzet for anything at all would be treason.”

“Where will she be sold?” I ask. “We have to rescue her.”

“The procedure for Gzet auctions is well known,” Sris says. “The lots are kept at the secret Gzet headquarters for safety, and the auction is conducted remotely. Special technology is used to place bids. The winner then has the lot delivered to a place of his choosing some time later. This is all done to disguise where the Gzet actually live.”

I think about it. “But we know where that planet is. We can go there and rescue her.”

“We’ll go there,” Krix’vorr rumbles slowly, “and assess– greetings, Inquisitor.” He looks past me.

Inquisitor Brax’tok is striding in, not looking happy. “What’s going on here, Chief Harrower? Why was I locked in my cabin?”

“We have won a battle,” Krix’vorr tells him. “Against two Gzet ships, come to ward us off. We seem to be on the right track. Even now we’re moving away from the wreckage of one of their ships.” He points to one of the Beast’s ‘eyes’, where the ruined ship can just be seen as it recedes into the distance.

“Why was I not informed?” the Inquisitor says, frowning. “Of course I noticed there was a battle on, but even when it was over, I was not let out.”

“The Beast loses interest in such minor issues when she’s in battle,” Krix’vorr tells him calmly. “She has to focus entirely on winning. After the battle, she takes some time calming down and returning to her more peaceful duties. I will not apologize for her, Inquisitor. I think her priorities were correct.”

“As do I,” the Inquisitor agrees, calming down. “Winning a battle is clearly of the utmost importance. But my question was directed at you, Chief Harrower. Why was I not told you intended to enter a battle?”

Krix’vorr angles his head. “Would it have made any difference? There was nothing you could do, and your cabin is the safest place for you. I will remind you that this command chamber is off-limits to you.”

“Witnessing a battle from the command chamber might be of help in my mission,” Brax’tok says. “Undoubtedly the Queen would like to have an account of the battle from a neutral observer.”

Krix’vorr nods. “Then from now on, we shall always tell you when a battle is about to commence, Inquisitor. And I think you shall be allowed in here at any time.”

Brax’tok straightens and adjusts his sash. “Very well. Was there any intelligence gathered?”

“There was indeed,” Krix’vorr says. “We’re now very close to finding the Gzet homeworld. We think we have the location, and the only thing left now is to confirm that it is indeed there.”

The Inquisitor arches his eyebrows. “That was quick work, Chief Harrower. Plainly the Queen’s trust in you is well placed. Mostly, anyway.” He gives me a glance that makes me want to punch him. “How much damage did our ship sustain?”

Krix’vorr checks some controls. “The Beast suffered only superficial injuries, Inquisitor.”

“You seem very sure.”

Krix’vorr’s mouth tightens to an almost-smile. “Believe me, if she was in pain, she’d let us know.”

Brax’tok looks out the lens. “Why was one ship not destroyed?”

“It’s our way,” Krix’vorr says smoothly. “We leave a few survivors to tell others of their defeat. It damages morale in our enemies, and it makes them fear us more.”