No I never mentioned what language they were speaking. The only time I do is when they are talking around people that wouldn't know their native tongue and they didn't want them to know what they were talking about. Even then I often forget to actually 'tell' the reader they are speaking a different tongue other then Basic. I think this is partly because in my RP experience the other RPers character 'somehow' almost always knows what my character said no matter 'what' language he or she spoke in. >< Kind of gives you the 'what's the point' feeling. It's that annoyance which made me create the 'code' I use in my RP here whenever my characters speak in Clan Dialect: it's an additional sign to force people to realize that 'hey, your character is not supposed to understand what mine are saying!'
Meh, sorry...I ranted a bit there. I am slowly chipping away at Chap 6 BTW, with luck I should have it done today...
I remember rp'ing with someone and they were some alien and was demanding something (I think..it's been a while). I was like, "How is my character going to understand him?" So my char responded as if the alien was speaking jibberish.
heh..
Then the player came back and said his character was speaking basic and he forgot to simply write it.
Yeah, it's those little things...
That's why I liked that uniqueness to the Clive rp... wish the guy would add to it.
hmm.. now I am curious about that rp... *tries to remember which one it was*
Here it is. The second part to it came out a little weak though IMO.
~~~
Chapter 6: Confrontation
It felt like a huge weight had been removed off his chest and Trazu felt he could truly move on from that horrible incident at last. He continued to visit Tzosha over the next couple of months and with her help, soon felt safe enough to start actually staying the night on occasion, usually on weekends when she was off. However he would always slept on the couch, despite Tzosha’s insistence that since he was the guest she should be the one sleeping on the couch.
He’d also been having what he considered to be odd dreams the past couple weeks. Dreams where he and Tzosha were doing things other then just chatting. They were odd to him because as far as he knew, Trandoshan’s just didn’t do things like that: the fact he considered Tzosha a close friend was rare in on itself. Trazu didn’t tell Tzosha he was having these dreams, because they were just silly dreams and meant nothing. Besides in his dreams he was taller then her and that pretty much invalidated any worth of the dreams by itself in his opinion.
Trazu was in the middle of one of those dreams now as he dozed on the couch. He and Tzosha were out in one of the many plains on Talus, Tzosha asleep with her head on his chest while he was leaning back against a tree. She was wearing a tank top with a simple pair of shorts while he just had his pants. It was one of those ‘lazy day’ type dreams and he was simply enjoying being close to her, stroking her arm lightly with his claws and prompting soft ‘mers’ from her in her sleep. Why did his chest suddenly feel cold and wet? It wasn’t just cold either, it was very cold. It was enough to snap him out of his little dream and back to reality.
Opening his eyes, he saw Tzosha standing beside the couch holding an ice cube over him and allowing the cold water to drip from it right onto his bare chest.
“GAH!” Trazu cried as he sat up with a start.
“Wakey wakey ya lazy bum.” Tzosha said playfully, giggling slightly.
“That was down right cruel.” Trazu grumbled as he wiped the water off his chest.
“If you didn’t sleep in so late I wouldn’t be tempted.” Tzosha said smiling. “Besides it was funny. You should have seen the look on your face.”
“Funny eh? Let’s see how you like it.” Trazu jumped up and tried to snatch the ice cube from her. Tzosha however used her height advantage over him and easily kept it out of his reach. “That’s not fair!”
Tzosha just laughed and dripped the water over his head teasingly. Trazu, getting frustrated, swept her feet out from under her. Tzosha yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the cube. Trazu immediately grabbed her hand and tried to pry it open. The pair wrestled a bit, until Tzosha managed to wrest her hand free of Trazu’s grasp and slip the cube down the back of his pants.
“YIPE!” Trazu jumped up and danced erratically as he tried to get the cube out, only to cause it to sink even deeper into his pants until it finally slid out through a pants leg. Tzosha was rolling on the floor laughing all the while. With a faint snarl, Trazu picked it up and looked at Tzosha with a sly grin on his face.
“Oh no…” Tzosha said, scrambling to her feet. “Not after where it’s just been.”
“You shouldn’t have stuck it there then.” Trazu said with a grin as he rushed toward her. Tzosha bolted and slipped behind a table. There was a brief merry-go-round as she kept the table firmly between herself and Trazu, hoping the cube would melt completely before he managed to reach her. It didn’t remain a stand off for long though, for Trazu finally just climbed up on top of the table. From his high perch he was able to tackle her as she attempted to run away and a second wrestling match ensued as Tzosha frantically tried to keep Trazu from placing the cube against her skin. He won however and she squirmed as he held the cube against her skin. There wasn't much left of the cube by this time though, so Tzosha didn't have to suffer long. When it was melted completely the pair sat on the floor leaning against each other, both panting faintly.
"What the hell were we just doing?" Trazu said suddenly, pulling away abruptly and causing Tzosha to fall over.
"Playing." Tzosha replied as she picked herself up.
"'Playing?" Trazu echoed, sounding mildly disguested. "Since when did our people act like that? Its...unnatural."
"It's not unnatural." Tzosha said, looking a bit confused at his reaction.
"We are warriors...hunters...we don't...do...things like that." Trazu insisted.
"So says the T'Doshok that ran away from home before he could learn everything about his own people." Tzosha said a bit harshly. "Hasn't your time with me taught you anything? We are not all warriors and hunters Trazu. There are many of us that don't live the way of the hunt: doctors, merchants,...tailors. The brutal hunter and warrior you came to know out here is most other species know because that's all we want them to know."
"Oh please...I am not that ignorant about our people." Trazu said with a faint snarl. "I know we often rely on our own talents for everyday services but we are primarily a hunter and warrior species. I also know that femaleslike you aren't usually even allowed off planet, unless they are hunters themselves which is rare: usually only sterile females become hunters. Any other time females are nothing but breeding stock."
Tzosha hissed, obviously offended by his words. Then without warning she smacked him across the snout, sending him tumbling. "'Nothing but breeding stock'?" She growled. "Are you that stupid and ignorant? Yes we rarely become hunters and it's usually the sterile ones that do become hunters, but we are far from just being breeding stock. We fulfil the roles on our homeworld that you males think are below your standards of worth. Who fixes your ships? Who mends your wounds? Who sells you that expensive weapon you've been looking for? Not many males do those things themselves, it's mostly us females that do them. If you ask me...if it wasn't for us girls our people wouldn't have advanced to the stage we are at now. Who knows, maybe it would have been us that became the slaves instead of the Wookiees."
He barely heard her words, his anger at her for slapping him overriding nearly all reason. Her finally comment about slaves was the final straw and he leapt at her with a hiss. The two scuffled a bit before Tzosha managed to flip him over her, Trazu landing hard on his back, leaving him stunned briefly. After he righted himself the pair glared at each other a moment then, both a little bloodied but not hurt seriously, but neither seemed willing to go for each other's throats again.
"I'm leaving." Trazu said abruptly, moving to gather the few things he had. "And I won't be coming back."
"Fine with me." Tzosha hissed. "I'd rather not associate myself with someone that's so closed minded."
Trazu gave her a final glare and slammed the door behind him as he left.
***
It's been two weeks since the fight and Trazu couldn't get it out of his head. He felt guilty for what he had said and realized he not only said things he didn't mean but things he didn't really believe in the first place. On top of that he felt lonely without her and he was still having those dreams. He honestly wanted to see her again, but wasn't sure if she would let him back into her life. Of course he wouldn't know if he didn't at least try, but his pride was holding him back: he did say he wouldn't come back and to come back meant he admitted defeat.
He lingered out in the wilds a couple days more, then found himself back in Dearic, ascending the stairs to her apartment. At first he wasn't sure what he was going to do, but as he lingered in front of her door he finally decided he should at least apologize. Hesitantly he reached for the doorbell, but stopped when the door suddenly opened, making him jump, Tzosha now standing in the doorway: she looked rather sullen.
They stared at each other a moment, then finally Tzosha stepped out of the way, motioning for him to come in. A few more moments of tense silence passed, Trazu almost shrugging off his pack out of pure habit before stopping himself. Now that he was here, he found the words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat and he had difficultly making himself look at her. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tzosha was keeping herself busy by washing off the table, but kept on washing it needlessly: it was evident she too had words she wanted to say but couldn't bring them forth.
"Tzosha..." Trazu said, hesitantly. "I think that table is clean enough..."
"Yes...yes it is..." Tzosha said quietly, straightening up and tossing the rag into the sink. "I keep seeing your footprints on it, though I know it's only in my head. Silly...isn't it? But it's an unwanted memory that just won't go away..."
He wasn't sure if she was refering to their fight or him as a whole. However there was something in her deminor that bothered him: she seemed nervious and somewhat anixous. Plus she kept glancing off to one side, toward a section of the room that was concealed by a wall. Then he felt that 'nagging' feeling in the back of his mind, the feeling of something being very 'wrong' here. Looking at her eyes, he saw fear: fear of what though?
"You must leave..." She said quietly, now staring hard in the direction she was glancing in before. "Quickly before..."
"Too late for that now." A familiar voice said behind him. Trazu felt his blood freeze and panic start to overwhelm him: he didn't need to turn around to know who that was. Immediately the memory of that one night pushed it's way to the front of his mind, reminding him of the fear, the helplessness, the shame she forced on him. He knew he should stand up to her, after all he wasn't injured like he was before, but he was paralized with fear. "Isn't this a surprize?" The female cooed. "My short little T'Doshok friend, coming right up to the doorstep of my sister."
"I am not...your friend." Trazu managed quietly, having to force the words through a tightened throat.
"I'm not?" She said, stepping around in front of him. He noted she wore the colors of the pirate gang now and sported a small blaster. "Oh I am so hurt...after all the fun we had too...."
"Leave him alone Zista." Tzosha hissed quietly. "You've made him suffer enough as is."
"Oh can it sis." Zisha said, rolling her eyes. "You were always the softy of the family: even mother was ruthless enough to know when to take advantage of a situation."
"Mother's actions never did bodily or emotional harm to others." Tzosha countered. "What you did was heartless, even for our people."
"You seem to forget one thing sis. With our people only the fittest survive: if he really didn't want it he would have fought me with everything he had. But he didn't, instead allowing his own sword to intimidate him enough to do as I wanted. I dare say he actually enjoyed it..."
Trazu was taken back by her last statement: that wasn't true at all. He even felt somewhat insulted she would even suggest such a thing. "Only in your twisted mind." He hissed.
"Oh really? I bet I can prove it. Here and now." She grinned maliciously. "I got something better then your stupid sword to make you do what I want this time too." She brandished her pistol. Trazu hissed in response, but beyond that he couldn't make himself do anything, his body unwilling to release itself from fears grip.
"No...I won't let you do that to him!" Tzosha growled, starting to rush up behind her. Zista whirled around and leveled the weapon at her, Tzosha freezing in her tracks and Trazu's heart skipping a beat.
"Do not interfer sis..." Zista hissed warningly. "I suggest you back off like a good sister and let me do what I want."
Tzosha however stood her ground, growling. The two sisters were only a couple feet from each other, Zista's weapon pointed at Tzosha's chest. Trazu was shaking his head, his mouth agape. He wasn't sure if he should feel touched that she was standing up to Zista for him or embarassed she had to do it for him. Either way, the possibility she would get hurt due to this he found distressing, yet still he couldn't get himself to act.
The stand off continued for a few moments. Then suddenly Tzosha swung up and slashed Zista across the face with her claws, leaving a few bright scarlet wounds across her face. Due to reflex however, the gun went off and Tzosha was blown back, a black charred spot on her shoulder. With a cry of pain Tzosha clutched her shoulder, felt to one knee and whimpered softly.
Tzosha! Trazu felt guilt wash over him. Because of his weakness he couldn't stand up to Zista himself. No. It was Zista's fault. She did this to him, made him fear her and unable to act, unable to prevent this. He felt anger and rage building up inside him and start pushing aside the fear, unparalizing his limbs and mind.
"Little bitch..." Zista hissed, wiping the blood off her face. "You were always getting in the way, always trying to hold me down. I should have gotten rid of you long ago. Well I can fix that now."
Trazu watched as she leveled her weapon again at Tzosha, but this time he wasn't going to stand helplessly by and watch. With a cry of denial, he lept forward, his sword seemingly to fly out of it's sheath on it's own accord and into his hand. Zista looked in his direction and to her credit recognized the danger right away and spin around to face him, only to have her hand chopped off by Trazu's fine blade. It took a moment for it to register that her hand, along with her gun, was now on the floor. She screamed in agony, clutching her suddenly shorter limb with her uninjured one. To a Trandoshan a loss of limb was actually a minor thing, for they grow them back within a couple months, however she was now in a very dicy situation without her weapon and a healthy, uninjured, and pissed off Trazu facing her.
"H..how..." She stammered as she backed away. "You couldn't even move a moment ago."
"You hurt her...that's how." Trazu hissed dangerously, advancing on her with his sword at the ready. "See how it feels bitch? Understand what it's like to feel helpless and afraid now? Yes I was too weak then, and you had a mental hold over me. Not anymore. I do not fear you now and what you did no longer controls my life. So If you value your pathitic life I suggest you leave...now."
Zista stared at him a moment, then with a hiss she ran for the door. "You'll pay for this...both of you!" She growled before disappearing out the door.
Trazu stared long and hard at the door, a part of him wanting to persue and finish her. He nearly did, but a moan from Tzosha redirected his attention to what was more important at that moment. Setting down his sword he knelt beside her and coached her hand away from the wound so he could inspect it. It wasn't serious, her scaly hide prevented the bolt from penetrating deeply, but from her whimpering you'd think she had lost a limb.
"You're a wuss you know that?" Trazu said teasingly, shaking his head.
Tzosha managed a smile. "I'm not a fighter like you, so I am entitled to be a 'wuss'."
Trazu chuckled and fetched the first aid kit. As he cleaned her wound they were silent, a silence very much like it was a few moments ago.
"Tzosha..." Trazu said quietly, breaking the silence. "I...I'm sorry. That day I...I don't know what came over me...and said things I didn't mean."
"We both did." Tzosha said softly. "And our trademark short temper didn't help us either."
He chuckled half heartedly. "I admit I've been feeling a bit confused." He said softly. "Between what I've been taught, what I've heard to expect from our people, and my own...feelings." He sighed. "I felt lonely when I left."
"As did I...and I feared I would never see you again."
Trazu stared at her for a moment. Did she just admit something that is frowned upon by his people? Something that's considered an even worse taboo then friendship? Then again, is that 'fact' about their people just another mask to keep them from being percieved as weak? Did his dreams and his recent action mean he was having the same 'blasphemous' feelings as well? It was too confusing and he shook his head, pushing those thoughts and feelings away.
"If your sister is to be believed." He said, changing the subject. "We should probably move."
"I agree." Tzosha said, standing. "She may not be a direct threat to us, but if the boosts she was giving me earlier are true she has enough rank in that gang to convience some lackys to come after us." There was pause, then she added. "Wait...you said 'we should move'."
"I did?" Trazu said, realizing he subconsciously felt he lived with her now. Beside himself with embarrassment, he blushed. He blushed even more when Tzosha commented that he looked 'cute' when he blushed.
My gosh Slas, you have too much time on your hands.
Or you must type really fast. I can't say I read it all, but what I did read was quite good.
Sorry to hear that Omnae. I'm good friends with a diabetic family (father and two sons), and I'm at very high risk myself since it's on both sides of my family, so you have my ... um ... pity? condolances? sorrow? Nothing seems to fit right there.
"Or you must type really fast. I can't say I read it all, but what I did read was quite good."
Mer, combo of too much 'free' time at work and having a bunch of notes from previous attempts to get this fic off the ground I scavanged bits off of. I actually didn't have any notes to on the last couple chaps I did here: that was all original writting. Next chap though is going to take some thinking, not because I don't know what I want to have happen, but it's the 'how'. Plus I got RPs I should be writing. No idea when I'll get Chap 7 done as a result...*sigh*
They moved to a new place within a week after that encounter. The new place was a nice little house just on the edge of Dearics city line and Trazu insured the rent was within Tzosha’s paycheck: while he did provide the down payment out of his own funds he didn’t have a steady income like she did. The location enabled Trazu to come and go as he pleased more easily and soon found himself staying at her place for longer periods.
Like at the old place, they spent most of their time sitting outside, talking. He wasn’t consciously aware of it, but was sitting closer and closer to her during these sessions. Trazu was even starting to allow her to gently caress him in shows of affection, finding such sensations to be rather pleasant and appealing. He started to wonder what life would be like if he didn’t have Tzosha, but found he couldn’t imagine it. One day, three months later, he remembered Rane’s final lesson: becoming too dependant on someone or something can be a hindrance in ones development.
Was he getting too dependant on Tzosha? Too clingy? On the surface the answer seemed to be yes, but deeper down this situation seemed different then what Rane was pertaining to. It dawned on him what exactly he had been doing the past few months and it both frightened and confused him. He had seen humans and other species do things similar to what he and knew it signs of an emotion called ‘love’ with them. But were his people even capable of that emotion in that context? Forming a bond of friendship was rare but not unheard of, however an actual relationship he now felt was starting to develop he had never heard of before with his people. A part of him wanted to ask Tzosha, but he remembered last time he questioned what he perceived to be an ‘odd’ behavior and didn’t want to end up in another fight with her. Plus he felt a bit embarrassed by the prospect of asking her. So instead he pulled away from her.
“What’s wrong? He heard her ask.
For a moment Trazu remained quiet, conflicting thoughts and feelings in his head. “I don’t know.” He replied finally, honestly. “I…need time to think…I think…on my own.”
“Think about what?”
“I’d…rather not say. Not until I am sure.” He looked over at her. “But I don’t know how long it will take.”
Tzosha smiled, then to his shock leaned over and nuzzled him tenderly on the cheek, a soft ‘merr’ emitting from her throat. It was clear what her position was. “Take what time you need.” She said softly. “I’ll wait.”
“I…I…” Trazu stammered, fully aware of the heat of the blush in his cheeks. “I’ll be back in two days…I promise.”
“As long as you come back in one piece.”
“Of course.”
***
Trazu was laying on his back, staring at the stars above, a small campfire crackling close by. He was letting his mind simply wander and found himself thinking about Tzosha most of the time, along with the stereotypes he was led to believe about his own people, which is what he came out here to think about in the first place. Not doubting how he felt, he just wanted to figure out if it was ‘odd’ or ‘wrong’ for him to feel this way about someone. All the stereotypes said his people were rather cold emotion wise and violent. Well he did fit the violent stereotype in many situations, though he didn’t go out of his way to look for things to kill save for when he was hungry.
” The brutal hunter and warrior you came to know out here is most other species know because that's all we want them to know.” He remembered Tzosha say doing there little spat a few months ago. Was it really true that those stereotypes were purposely reinforced and serve as a mask? Were his people more friendly at some point in time only to be forced to put up a mask when threatened so their ‘weakness’ couldn’t be exploited? If so, have they worn that mask for so long that they now actually believe in it?
As he pondered, he recalled a memory from his early years, before he fled the homeword...
He remembered it like it was yesterday, he was sitting in a classroom with about two dozen other Trandoshan’s his age, all male. They didn’t have chairs or desks to sit at like you would see with other races, no they either stood or sat on the cold concrete floor, which was stained with the blood of who knows how many animals the instructors would use as ‘practice targets’ for both killing and skinning techniques. As a result the room always smelled like rotting flesh and blood.
This day they were just being taught history and like many other students Trazu was fighting to stay awake: did history have to be so boring? At least until the subject of Wookiees came up, then everyone was sitting forward, Trazu included for he was curious about the races that lived beyond his homeworld. But as he listened, instead of feeling outraged or overjoyed like the other students, he felt sympathetic and disgusted.
“Why?” He finally asked.
“Why what?” The instructor said, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.
“Why must we hurt them.” Trazu said.
“I just explained why.” The instructor growled.
Trazu shook his head. “They had every right to defend their homeland. If we were in their place we would have reacted the same way would we not?”
“They are animals: they have no rights.” The instructor said bluntly.
Trazu frowned and shook his head. “The fact that they were able to replicate our technology and use it for themselves suggests otherwise don’t you think? Besides…you said yourself that they had a position on the Galactic Senate, which means other races seem them as more then just ‘animals’.” He knew he was angering the instructor, but the words would not stop coming. His biggest mistake was what he said next. “Considering the fact that we didn’t have a spot in the Galactic Senate, perhaps we are the ones that are considered animals by them?”
The silence was so complete that Trazu could only hear his own breathing and the low threatening growl coming from the instructor. He should have taken that and the fact he was now alone: the other students had quickly moved away from him, as a hint that he was out of line and should be running. But the pride his people are so known for had him standing proud, tall, and unafraid as the instructor stormed up to him.
For a moment he just stared at him, then suddenly and without warning the instructor struck him. The blow was hard enough to send him flying a short distance across the floor.
“Do not question our methods runt.” He heard the instructor say.
“We…we should have negotiated with them.” Trazu said stubbornly as he struggled to his feet.
The next thing he knew he was being lifted off the floor as the instructor grabbed him by the shirt. “We do not negotiate with anyone.” He heard before he was sent flying again, and blackness claimed him.
Trazu subconsciously rubbed the back of his head. He remembered waking up alone and cold in that room some unknown time later and from that point on his standing in class was barely above the dirt under ones feet. It was curious why they didn’t just kill him: others he had heard were culled for less ‘blasphemous’ reasons. But none the less, the memory told him that either Tzosha didn’t know what she was talking about, or his people really have been living under a mask for so long they started to believe it. Either way, it didn’t help his current dilemma.
Why should it matter if it’s ‘normal’ for us or not? He thought. It’s not like I have any intention of going back to Dosha anyway. He also figured that since he was born in Hsskhor, the Capital of Trandosha, it would be more ‘strict’ there and Tzosha was likely from another city where things weren’t so cut and dry. But that left him needing to ask her, which he came out here to avoid in the first place. With a sigh, thinking ‘why not’, he got up and started packing.
He was about half way home when he felt an urge to get home in a hurry. This left him puzzled: yes he was eager to see her again, but this seemed different. Without realizing it he found himself quickening his pace, the nagging sensation in the back of his mind getting stronger. He started running at full tilt when it dawned on him something was very wrong, his sixth sense going off like crazy.
Ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs and legs, he kept running until he burst through into the clearing that was just before their house. At first everything seemed fine, but that nagging feeling was still there, keeping him on his guard and making him jog to the front door. He reached to punch in the access code, only to find the controls had been sliced, the panel covering hanging off. A sickening feeling setting in his stomach he pushed the panel back into place and punched in the code: thankfully the door still responded and opened without a problem.
Inside were obvious signs of a struggle: furniture knocked out of place, clumps of someone’s hair here and there, as well as a few blood spots. Drawing his sword, Trazu searched the house, calling for Tzosha and praying she was alive and unhurt. He found no bodies, no ransom notes, nothing. Trazu felt despair grip his heart: she was gone, her fate unknown and he never got a chance to truly tell her how he felt.
He cut loose a howl of grief and despair, feeling lost, alone, and grief stricken. It only lasted a moment though, for a boiling rage soon took over. He will have his revenge, oh yes. They made a big mistake: not only did they piss of a Trandoshan, but they pissed off a Trandoshan Ranger.
I've been negilecting this fic since I returned to the States, so at work today I finished it. Here's the second to last chap.
***
Chapter 8: Bloodrage
The trail was easy to find, easier to follow and Trazu traveled as fast as he could: the sooner he found the culprits, the sooner he will know Tzosha’s fate and punish those responsible. He was forced to make camp and rest a few hours due to sheer exhaustion, since he had been on the go since the previous morning. Sleep was restless for him though, nightmares of what could be happening, if not already happened, to Tzosha plaguing his mind. Thus his eagerness to find her was renewed when he picked up the trail again.
By that afternoon the trail ended at an old remote storehouse far from civilization. The place was likely set up by gangs and pirates themselves rather then legitimate parties: who else would use a place so remove? However why the building was there was not important to him, for with the lack of any fresh trail leading away from the location it meant he had found where they had taken Tzosha. Not seeing any guards about, he strode right up to the place and found the door open.
Idiots. Assuming I wouldn’t come after them… He thought as he walked in. His sixth sense was nagging at him, trying to tell him something wasn’t right, but he ignored it, rescuing, or avenging, Tzosha at the forefront of his mind.
The storehouse was like one big room with a few smaller offices along the sides and from the number of crates and various other storage containers the place was in active use. The containers were all stacked high enough to prevent him from looking over them and set up kind of like a maze; making searching the place and keeping an eye out for guards an annoying affair. His sword at the ready, Trazu picked his way through the maze of containers and soon found a large open space within the maze. He saw Tzosha on the far end of that open space, tied up between two poles.
“Tzosha…” He breathed as he ran toward her, forgetting he was in enemy territory. He ignored the fact that it was strange he had yet to see a guard and that Tzosha was shaking her head madly, unable to speak due to a gag. By the time his sixth sense had sounded off loud enough for him to have no choice but to take heed it was too late.
There was a sudden loud bang and Trazu found himself suddenly blown off his feet by a large sonic burst. He smashed against a support pole, his sword flying from his hand, and fell to the ground. Stunned and the world spinning in his vision, Trazu struggled to get back up to his feet and shake the stars out of his head. He was dimly aware of the sudden appearance of dozens of pirates, but he didn’t get a chance to react to their appearance, as a sudden sharp blow to the head rendered him completely unconscious.
***
His head ached as he regained consciousness, his vision taking a moment to sharpen and clear. He found himself tied up across from Tzosha, stripped of everything including all his clothing, even his bracelet. At first he felt embarrassed that he was being seen by Tzosha in a manner usually only reserved for bathing and the most intimate of situations, but he quickly reminded himself that this was no time for modesty. He looked Tzosha over from his position: she looked a bit roughed up and slightly bruised, but otherwise not injured.
“I’m sorry…I…” Trazu started to say, but found words failing him. Tzosha seemed to catch what he was trying to say, for she slowly shook her head, her eyes full of forgiveness. With a sigh, Trazu turned to study his restraints: maybe he can get them out of there before their captures returned.
He was tied up in a similar manner as Tzosha was, bond with a strong polymer based cord. Trazu moved one hand around, attempting to loosen the cord enough so he could slip his hand through, but the cord held fast and he only rubbed his hide raw for the effort: he already knew he lacked the leverage and the strength to break the cord with brute force and his claws weren’t sharp enough to cut through them.
“About time you woke up.” A familiar voice said. Trazu turned and his eyes narrowed at the figure that appeared. Zista was leaning against one of the crate, looking smug and sure of herself and holding some sort of whip in her regenerated hand. “I was afraid my minions had hit you too hard.”
“You…” Trazu growled hatefully, straining against his bonds.
“Now now.” She said teasingly. “Don’t get yourself worn out now, there’s a lot of fun to be had before we are done here.” Zista said as she walked up to him. “I have plans for you, you see. You have a lot of spunk, which I like, but too much will. So...so that I can do what I want with you, I need to break you in.”
“You mean make me your slave.” Trazu hissed. “I’ll die first before letting myself sink to that level.”
Zista merely chuckled. “Now, thanks to our last encounter, I knew to anticipate that kind of attitude. That’s why I captured your little friend here…” She gestured toward Tzosha, whose eyes widened.
Trazu’s own eyes widened. “Leave her alone.” He said warningly.
“Or what?” Zista laughed. “You’re not in any position to stop me are you? Submit to me…or she pays.”
Trazu felt torn between his own dignity and his feelings for Tzosha. He didn’t want Tzosha to be hurt because of him, but he didn’t want to become someone’s slave either. Tzosha was madly shaking her head, but Trazu couldn’t if she was trying to tell him not to fall for her blackmail or what.
“No answer?” Zista said as she walked over to Tzosha and ripped her gag off. “Maybe hearing her scream a few times will loosen your tongue.” She looked back at Trazu with a malicious smile. “They do say…that if you strike someone with this kind of whip too many times they suffer permanent brain damage…I wonder how many times that has to be…”
“Don’t submit to her…” Tzosha said bravely. “No matter what happens to me!”
“Now now sis…” Zista said as she moved around behind her. “Let him decide that.” The low hum of the whip being turned on could be heard. Then there was a brief streaking flash as Zista raised the whip and snapped it sharply against Tzosha’s back.
He could tell she really tried hard not to scream, but the pain was too much for her and her scream tore into Trazu’s heart. Just as painful was the spasms he could see coursing through her helpless body and he crushed his eyes close so he could not see it. But he could not shut his ears Much to his distress, he could not choose his pride over Tzosha or Tzhosha over his pride. He found himself sinking deeper into despair. Why can’t I be strong enough to have both?
An image flashed in his mind, no a memory, of the battle he fought with the K’Satikur and reminded of that rage he had gone into then. Yes, that’s it. If he could go into that mode again….
But wait. He was mindless killer then, what if he killed Tzosha while in that mode? As another scream echoed in his ear drums, he over heard one pirate whisper to another: ‘won’t matter what he does…boss intends to kill her anyway from what I ‘ere.’.
Hearing that made the decision for him: it was their only chance, no Tzosha’s only chance. What happened to him he didn’t care anymore, all he cared about was make sure Tzosha survived. He reached down deep inside of him and found that mode deceptively easily and embraced it.
The familiar surge of strength came into his limbs and he strained with all his might against his restraints. Suddenly the cord on one hand snapped, making him swing wildly and almost lose his footing. Quickly he reached over and attacked the second cord, the cries of Zista’s disbelief and ordering her minions to stop him barely registering. Before they reached him though the second cord came free and his vision became filled with a blood red haze.
When his vision cleared the floor was slick with the blood of his enemies, he himself was coated with it. His body ached and threatened to collapse under him as he forced himself stagger toward Tzosha, who was slumped over unconscious, or worse. He collapsed against one of the poles that she was bound to and forced himself to start working on untying her, his mind threatening to lose consciousness with every movement. The task was made even more difficult due to the fact his fingers had deep lacerations and the blood was making the cord slick and difficult to grasp. Finally one of her hands was free, but before he could move himself so he could free her second hand his body gave up on him.
Tzosha…please be alright… He thought as the world turned black….
