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Chapter 7

Twenty kilometres away from the brief fight Jacob Wellson stood by his sabotaged vehicle waiting for the inevitable. When the raid was over he would be the sole survivor, obviously protected and chosen by God. With most of the senior government gone his masters' plans for him to take control of the government would be easy to enact.

He was just beginning to hope that the elves were going to leave him be when he saw the jet bikes roaring their way towards him.

"Get on, Rat." Smirked the lead rider pointing to the empty pillion seat on the larger of the three bikes.

Jacob had barely heaved himself into the seat, no easy feat for a man of his age and lack of flexibility, when the rider gunned the engine and raced off back to the battle at full speed. Closing his eyes against the wind pressure didn't stop them watering and he was relieved when the bike stopped and he was ordered off.

Once off the bike Jacob found himself face to face with an angry looking elf, with half his face bandaged.

"Welcome to your handiwork, scum." Growled the elf. "I am Korsephan Nightshade, Raid Leader here and your master.

"You will call me 'Sir' or 'My Lord', never by name."

Jacob bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord."

"Come with me."

Korsephan then led Jacob to the assembled misery that was left of the human force. The soldiers were lined up in a parody of the parade formation they had been in so recently. Healers working their way down the lines using their learning caps to install the elvan language and trackers on their new acquisitions.

A low growl emerged from the force as they realised that their hero was working for the enemy.

Once the healers had finished their task, Korsephan had his men drag out one of the young female aides, knowing that her emotions would be the most delicious.

"I am Korsephan Nightshade, Raid Leader and conqueror of your pathetic defences.

"You now belong to me and my people. Any command we give you will be obeyed instantly and without question. You live only because we let you live. You eat only because we let you eat. You talk only because we let you talk.

"You will also notice that you can understand me, even though I am not speaking your revolting tongue. You will never again speak anything but our civilised language. If you speak any other language..." At which point the sadistic elf punched the poor woman in the mouth, with his armoured fist, shattering her front teeth and causing the poor woman to scream in agony before slumping unconscious in her guards' arms.

"Second offence and we'll remove your tongue and you'll never speak anything ever again."

Zahra moved before she even realised, closing the gap as though to strike the vicious bastard in return. However, the elves were quicker and four of them intercepted her.

"A feisty one? I like them." Korsephan grinned. "Bring her here."

Grabbing Zahra's right hand in his, he continued.

"Raising your hand to one of us, costs you the use of it. Actually striking us is death."

With that, he crushed Zahra's hand, enjoying the sound of the bones shattering and the anguish his victim was obviously in. Even though she managed to keep herself from crying out the agony on her face was obvious.

Turning back to the collected prisoners, he continued his spiel:

"When we leave here you will walk calmly back to the gateway to our world."

Then quick as a flash he drew his pistol and shot Zahra in the knee. Not expecting this she had no time to brace herself and let out an agonised howl before collapsing to the ground clutching her crippled leg.

"Any attempt to escape will leave you incapacitated."

Jacob managed to avoid any show of emotion by convincing himself that she deserved it for past behaviour and it was much better she suffer than either of her siblings. Much less himself.

"Fix it!" Korsephan commanded the nearest healer, pointing to where Zahra lay writhing on the ground. Not out of compassion, but unwilling to lose another prisoner that day.

Valna'a had only just got out of the fort when her brother found her. His usual foul temper raised up to maximum.

“Well you facked that right up!” He said by way of greeting. “I've got sixteen dead and twenty wounded. All because you wanted to explore that heap, rather than help win the battle.” He continued pointing to the fort as his explosives team were setting the charges to destroy it.

Pausing just long enough to be insulting, Valna'a stood up to face her brother.

A smile lit up her face as she saw the med pack covering his eye. “Ooh, nearly.” she crowed. “Who is the hero that nearly rid the galaxy of your worthless existence? I'd like to shake his hand for coming so close, before gutting him for missing.

“And I facked nothing up. My team followed your plan perfectly, despite some moron giving us two incompatible tasks.” She added. “We scouted out the area, to ensure your little pet was telling the truth."

"Then we crossed open ground on foot, because you were too stupid to bring a second scout squad.”

“I didn't need two.” He countered. “Getting from the valley to here was an easy task.”

“Only for a squad as good as mine.” She purred.

“Once the games started, we took the fort, closing off their retreat and stopping them getting any ammunition for their toy guns.”

“But they did have ammunition! Now I have to explain to father why we took such casualties, when we should have been doing nothing more than rounding up some defenceless cattle.” He spat at her. “And know I will make sure he knows it was your fault.”

Valna'a just laughed at her older brother. “First. You didn't plan on what to do if any of them were actually armed. That's on you.”

“Second: It was his job to make sure the only armed soldiers were the ones inside the fort. “ She added, pointing at Zahra's father. The only human not in chains. “But feel free to go running to your daddy, telling tales. While you're there make sure that of one hundred and three people involved in this, your plan, was for only six of us to take on the ones you expected to be armed,, while you led ninety-six warriors to take out the unarmed cattle, spectacularly failing.

"How many of them did you waste in your uncontrolled bloodlust?"

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Korsephan rebuttal was, as usual when he lost an argument, to punch his sister, knocking her to the ground, before stalking off.

Oh, and brother, dear. “ Valna'a called after her sulking sibling. “I'd leave that thing standing, if I were you. We already have the blueprints for it and it will save the livestock from building a different one.”

"Get down there and check if any of them are worth saving, Squad Second." He ordered her, pulling rank. His way of admitting defeat, but not having the personality to admit to it.

"Yes, sir!" She replied giving him a mocking salute, before climbing down the slope into the part of the moat that Zahra's platoon had been using for cover.

As she neared the bottom she could see that a female soldier was still alive, but badly wounded. The human's face was turned away from her, so Valna'a couldn't see it, but even then she could see that it wasn't the woman she had seen earlier.

Strangely though the though of that young human played on Valna'a's mind as she approached this fallen foe. Turning the body over she could see that the wounds, while bad enough to preclude her capture, were probably not fatal. Normally such a casualty would be killed. Either quickly or slowly depending on the elf’s sadistic tendencies. Valna'a felt the urge to spare this creature, though, leaving behind a wounded enemy alive was a crime that would see her sentenced to the gladiatorial pits if she was caught.

Pulling out her pistol, she decided to give this one a quick death. Lining up the shot she had a vision of the redhead's face superimposed over this one's, causing her to hesitate briefly. Subconsciously flicking the pistol over to heavy stun she steeled herself and shot the human before she even realised she had taken action.

Taken aback by both the hallucination and her behaviour she put the pistol back to normal and checked the other bodies. Though they were already dead.

Climbing out of the moat, she saw that the demolition charges were being removed from the walls of the fort. At least Korsephan wasn't a total idiot, which surprised her.

After a final pass through to ensure all the bodies left behind were actually dead, the humans were herded into columns to begin the march into captivity.

Those humans able to walk were assigned tasks as befitting mere beasts. Some carried their own wounded – those that were salvageable. Some carried the dead and wounded elves. While it did not matter too much if a wounded human was dropped, woe betide the fool that dropped a wounded, or even, dead elf. A third group were assigned to carry or drag the damaged elf vehicles so no one would know that they had suffered casualties. Finding most of the human recording equipment survived, Valna'a ensured that was included with this. The rest of the prisoners just got to shuffle along behind.

All except Zahra. She was strapped to the front of a jetbike to be buffeted by high speed winds to further add to her misery.

The whole column, both human and elf, then got to walk past Korsephan and his new friend, Colonel Wellson, in a cruel parody of their earlier parade. And to ensure that they all knew he had sold them out. The humans even being made to salute as they passed.

Wellson was taken back to his vehicle. An engineer was sent along to ensure that it would look like a genuine breakdown. The elves despised Jacob Wellson, but he was a useful puppet, for now, and the elves were not ready to expose his villainy just yet.

The trek back to the valley and its secrets was uneventful. Fast moving jet bikes kept an eye out for any issues, while the dispirited humans just plodded along. Each step taking them closer to a lifetime of misery and abuse.

At the mouth of the valley the outriders slowed and moved closer, but were still too far away for any but the most suicidal to try anything. This lasted for just over a kilometre into the valley before the procession was halted by a near vertical area of the valley's side. Here Valna'a and her squad left their escort duties, activating their personal gate generators they walked up to the cliff and straight through it, passing through the dimensional rift into the gate control room for the Cestus portal, where a unit of heavy weapons was pointed at the gate, in case the unthinkable happened and the enemy attacked through it.

Giving the appropriate passwords to show they were not being coerced. Valna'a watched as the heavy weapons were removed, to be replaced by the engineers who would open the gate fully.

Once these were in position and were starting the gate opening routine more elves moved into the room. Healers to take care of any injured elves. Veterinarians to patch up any wounded cattle and slave handlers, ready to fill the cells with an expected bumper crop of new victims.

Valna'a was initially surprised to see the Clan-Father was also there. Though, she deduced, he was probably there to see how his eldest offspring had done, as well as to enjoy the massed misery of the new livestock.

Although Saphin dismissed her squad Valna'a stood to one side, looking forward to her father's reaction to both the casualties suffered by his forces and to the reduced number of prisoners.

Once the gate was opened, she wasn't disappointed. First through came her brother, strutting along as though he had won a great victory, waving away the healer that went to check on him, before positioning himself at his father's right hand side. Then as the stretchers carrying the wounded, and then the deceased, elves passed through and the healers rushed to tend to their unexpectedly large number of new charges, Valna'a could see her father getting more and more irate.

Following the humans came their eleven victors, including the walking wounded. Seeing even more of his people wounded, Clan-Father Lapice Nightshade, mood seemed to darken even further.

Valna'a managed to keep her face stoic during all of this, knowing that her father's infamous temper could easily include anyone involved in this debacle. The only crack in her armour was when the last of the rearguard came through, the jet bikes. Still strapped to the front shield of one of them was the body of the young human Valna'a had first seen through the magnified scope of her scout rifle.

Having still been inside the human fortifications Valna'a had not realised who it was that had so infuriated her brother. With the recognition came the realisation that there would be no chance of her acquiring Zahra as her new pet. This frustrated her as she wanted to know why this particular creature so interested her. As the leader of the raid, even if the result were underwhelming, Korsephan would get first pick of any prizes, as well as granting any others.

Seeing this, their father merely looked at Korsephan for an explanation.

"It came at me, as though to strike me for hurting one of its little friends. Hence the object lesson."

This earned a nod of approval from Lapice, just preventing a public display of the frustration he was so obviously feeling.

"I will have your reports." Were his only words as he marched out of the chamber.

Later that evening, at the slightly subdued feast celebrating the raid, Korsephan was obviously on edge. A situation that certainly enhanced a lot of people's mood, especially Valna'a's.

Over the next few days, after taking care of her equipment and her duties, Valna'a cobbled together the various videos of the event to build an entertaining story of the day's events. She admitted to herself, privately, that the editing did not flatter a certain relative of hers. Smiling to herself, she published her final version over the entertainment network.

Two days later Korsephan caught up with her in a hallway. Grabbing her, he pushed her up against a wall.

"I loved your little movie." He snarled. "That was a well crafted hatchet job."

"Thank you." She replied, ignoring his obvious sarcasm. "I tried my best to put a positive spin on it for you, but it wasn't easy considering how bad your performance was."

"Father has demoted me for my next three raids. I, apparently, have to prove myself to him before I get another chance to lead a raid."

"Glad I could help." She quipped. Accepting the inevitable punch from her brother. "Though you were the one who lost control of their emotions during the raid, instead of concentrating on what you should have been."

Although the raid had not been as successful as hoped, the large amount of prisoners meant that it would be a while before the clan needed to restock their numbers. A situation that extended Korsephan's shame and Valna'a's enjoyment at his discomfort.

Although the healer had patched up Zahra's knee and hand, he had deliberately done a poor job. Partly to save on the medical resources, but mostly to ensure that she would always be in some discomfort for the rest of her life.

Along with her compatriots, she found herself in a large dungeon that gave the impression of being deliberately intended to cause the prisoners maximum physical and mental discomfort. One wall was lined with medieval torture devices, that Zahra hoped were purely decorative.

There were no beds or other furniture, the latrines were a row of filthy looking toilets at one end, with no privacy screens and bidets instead of toilet paper. The washbasins looked equally filthy, though like the toilets that seemed to be a pattern rather than scum. Showering was equally public with lukewarm water, soap instead of gel and no towels. These were also the only facilities for cleaning their clothes. Food was a grey blob that was tasteless, but seemed to be sufficiently nutritious, while water was the same lukewarm stuff they washed in.

Lined up in two rows, back to back the prisoners were further humiliated by being stripped of all insignia, including badges of rank, along with any jewellery, watches and other personal effects. Pinned on items were ripped off, sewn on were unceremoniously cut off. Any finger rings that would not come off were removed by the simple expediency of removing said finger with bolt cutters. (Thumb rings were not removed this way as the slaves would eventually need these digits - The rings themselves were cut off) . Again, this was done as cruelly as possible with the intent of upsetting the prisoners.