The Frihet Rebellion

Ameridian lifted from the lake in a surge of raw power, trailing streams of water as it roared into the sky.

King Ideb, watching from the cover of the jungle, trees shaking and creaking with the backwash of energy, was not sorry to see it leave. The crazy Earthman and the Frihetian Princess, were on board, as were the surviving members of the Earthman’s crew, rescued from the original crash site of their ship.

“I wish all of the madness had left with them,” he said. “But I fear more is to come before we can finally find some peace and justice for the M’Abuutan.”

M’b’gera stood among others of the tribe, also watching the ship. He nursed several wounds and rapidly healing scars from his battles to bring the Earthman and the Princess this far. He, also, was not sorry to see them leave.

Only Chia, standing to one side, showed anything other than passive relief, her brow furrowed with concern. Kind Ideb placed a kindly hand on her arm and smiled.

“What is it that worries you?” he asked, as Ameridian dwindled to little more than a bright spark in the clear sky.

“I worry about the Princess,” said Chia. “The Earthman has lust in his eyes. She may be an enemy to us, but she is a woman.”

“You are not the most virginal of women, Chia,” said Ideb, growing serious. “Why should it worry you if another gives what you give so often?”

“Because what I give, I give freely. It is my choice. For a man to force himself on a woman is wrong. It is cruel, an act of violence against that woman. I have had many men through my own choice. The Princess, if we believe rumors, has had none. Her first should not be one forced on her by a man she hates.”

“Chia is right,” said M’b’gera, the first flicker of doubt, of guilt, breaking through his impassiveness. “I fear we have done a bad thing letting the Earthman take the Princess. Better we had kept her here and bargained with the Palace.”

“We would have been destroyed,” said Ideb. “I have runners on the way to the Palace to assure them we do not hold the Princess. Even so, I fear reprisals for our part in this.”

“Then why did we do it?” said Chia.

“Because the M’Abuutan must become a recognized force on Frihet once more,” said Ideb. “We must fight for an equal share on our planet. I believed this could be the beginning.” The old man shook his head sadly, and glanced once more towards the now invisible flight of Ameridian. “Perhaps I made an error.”

Princess Thalor studied the grey walls of the cabin, hoping she would see something she had previously missed. Something that would, in some indefinable way, make her imprisonment easier, more bearable. There was nothing. The cabin was comfortable enough, in the spartan style of spaceship cabins galaxy-wide, but the door was locked.

For the duration of her stay, this was a prison cell.

When first brought aboard, she had still been wearing her nightdress, and her kidnapper had stared until she felt the material was transparent rather than sheer.

That man unsettled her. No. More than that. He frightened her.

When an officer of the ship they boarded offered her a blue overall, she grabbed it and, at the first opportunity, slipped it on. The man still stared, but she felt a little less naked.

At first, alone in her prison, she had cried. Then, disgusted with her lack of self-control, she had forced the tears to dry. She was Princess Thalor. It did not matter whether she was in her Palace or a prisoner on board an Earth battleship. She was the rightful ruler of Frihet, and she would behave accordingly. She also expected to be treated that way too, although so far there had been little hint of such a consideration.

Her jaw still ached from the blow that had knocked her out, and a deep purple bruise spread along her jawline and onto her chin. The Earthman who had taken her seemed full of violence, hatred and lust. Even as Princess Thalor, she was afraid of him.

Field Commander Langdon will be looking for me.

She was certain of that one thing. The Field Commander was in love with her. Everyone knew it. He would not give up the chase.

Perhaps, before now, I’ve been unkind to him, she thought, as her dependence on his devotion made her reconsider the past. I don’t love him. I can’t change that. But maybe I could show a little more kindness?

She shook her head. The stress of the situation was turning her soft. She was his Princess, his ruler. She treated him as her subject, and that was all. She could not show favoritism just because of his feelings for her. There were, no doubt, others in her kingdom who loved her just as much. Yes. She was sure of it. Her father had instilled in her a sense of her own importance, an understanding of her position above all other Frihetians, and unreachable by them. If, and when, a suitable partner was found for her, he would be of royal blood. It would be a marriage of advantage for both families involved. Love did not enter into the equation. Children were heirs to one or both thrones, nothing more.

I am a Princess. I will behave as a Princess. I will be treated as a Princess.

Pleased with her own conviction, she sat upright on the cabin’s bed and tried to look as regal as was possible in her borrowed, baggy overall. Perhaps she was being monitored, and, if so, she wanted to look the part as well as feel it.

She was surprised when, without warning, the cabin door slid open.

Surprise quickly changed to fear, as her kidnapper walked through.

Kramer grinned at the Princess as he locked the cabin door. While he was disappointed that she no longer wore the thin nightdress, the overall she had replaced it with did nothing to soften the lust he felt. If anything, the overall might be easier to remove. By force if necessary.

“Well, Princess,” he said, pleased at the fear he saw in her eyes. “Here we are, finally, without any interference from others.”

“Stay away from me,” said the Princess, her voice unsteady as she shuffled backwards on the bed, away from the approaching man. “I am Princess Thalor of Frihet. You must treat me according to galactic custom.”

“You are mine!” said Kramer, growling each word, spitting the emphasis as he stood at the end of the bed, towering above her. “I took you, and because of that I will be a hero upon my return to Earth. You belong to me.”

He lunged.

She screamed.

He pinned her to the bed under his much heavier frame.

She struggled but could not move. He was too heavy, too strong.

He hit her, once, twice, across the face with an open hand. Hard enough to hurt and raise patches of red. Not hard enough to break bones.

“Stop struggling you little Frihetian bitch. You’re mine and I can do anything I want to you.” He pushed his face close to hers, whispering, “No one’s going to help you now.”

As he fumbled with the overall zip, she threw a punch that smacked against his cheek, technically perfect but not hard enough to stop him, only hard enough to anger him more.

He tugged at the zip, managed to start it moving. It jammed. He tugged again and again. It wouldn’t move.

The Princess jabbed a second punch, a third, freed one of her legs and brought her knee up, hitting him in the back. She would not be taken easily.

The punches were beginning to sting, and the knee in the back actually hurt him. The zip was jammed. In his imagination, it had all gone so much smoother.

Enraged with the reality, he punched her, hard, straight in the face, grinning as blood ran from her nose. He punched her again. Her lip split. Again. More blood from her nose and her mouth. Her eye began to close up.

Satisfied, but frustrated with the zipper, he grabbed her overall in his fists. He would rip it apart if necessary!

Barely conscious, the Princess tried to struggle, but could find no strength. Her limbs would not respond. Too much pain from her battered face. Too much fear.

The tough material of the overall began to rip under his desperate, rage-filled efforts.

Soon the bitch will be naked. My very own Princess whore.

The thought made him smile. Then laugh. He owned her!

The general alarm klaxon screeched through Ameridian’s corridors and cabins, distracting Kramer just as the Princess’s pale flesh became visible through ripped material.

He screamed in frustration.

What do I do? It’s a courts martial offence to ignore a general alarm. But I’m so close to taking her. So close.

The general alarm continued, almost deafening.

A recognizable voice broke through the blare of the klaxon. Captain Sumner.

“Admiral Kramer, report to the bridge immediately please. Admiral Kramer. This is an emergency.”

The message was repeated twice more, and Kramer stood up from the bed. An animal growl escaped from his spittle-flecked lips. He looked at the battered and bleeding woman on the bed, the top of her overall ripped, her face bloody.

“There’ll be another time,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “This isn’t over. When I come back, we’ll continue. You are mine now. Don’t forget that. Mine.”

He turned, angrily, on his heel and unlocked the door. In seconds he was gone, the door closed and locked behind him. Silence filled the cabin, slowly broken by the quiet sobbing of the Princess as she curled into a protective fetal position on the bed. But crying did not help her forget, and it did not ease the fear of his return. There seemed nothing she could do. No one she could turn to.

Kramer reached the bridge quickly, his anger and frustration hidden behind a mask of professionalism. Sumner wasted no time in appraising him of the situation.

“We’ve got a blockade of Frihetian battleships waiting for us,” he said. “Looks like every one they have left. Any suggestions?”

“We can’t surrender, not now,” said Kramer.

“I wasn’t even considering that,” said Sumner, angrily. “To even suggest so is tantamount to calling me a coward.”

“I meant no such thing,” said Kramer, subduing his own anger to placate the captain of the ship. “You still have command of this ship, Captain. The final decision is yours. I, myself, would try to punch a hole through them and run for it. I believe our battleships are faster than theirs. Once we’re ahead, they’ll never catch us.”

“We could return to the surface,” said Sumner. “But I fear we could not hide our location for long, and our position would be worse on the ground than up here. At least here we have full maneuverability.” He thought for a moment, studying his HUD, looking at the crew on the bridge, all intent on their own stations.

“I agree,” he said finally. “We’ll attack them. Try and break through. If we don’t make it…” He shrugged. “At least we’ll have tried.”

Kramer smiled with grim satisfaction. A return to the surface would have led to imminent capture or destruction, he was certain. Surrender was not even worth considering. He had taken their Princess. If they caught him, they would kill him. Once Ameridian had punched through and was running, he would not be needed on the bridge. He could return to his Princess and finish what he had started. He did not see she had any way of stopping him. The thought cheered him a little, and he settled in an empty seat on the bridge and waited.