CHAPTER IV: DOMITOR THRAYADES

Umbral Dawn, Scandar Venom-Class Cruiser

Eobaria System, edge of the Ceres Chain, United Planets Protectorate

December 14, 2771

Domitor Thrayades bowed as the holograms faded around him. While the holo-transmission’s sound insulation faded, dull screaming filled the rest of the chamber at the cavernous heart of the Umbral Dawn. Thrayades turned around to see the human Captain.

“Apologies, Captain,” he tilted his head, prowling closer. “I had to make a call.”

The human was fastened securely in the Seat of Reconsideration, writhing against his restraints and contorting his facial muscles. His howls of agony had finally exhausted. The Scandar glanced down to the Captain’s feet, being ground into paste by the barbed roller at the bottom of the torture device as it slowly churned upwards. The human squirmed slower and slower, muscles losing the adrenaline they needed to keep pushing, his screams finally dying down to feeble whimpers.

"Allow me to ask again…" said the Domitor, leaning his two-pronged foot ever so slightly over the braces holding the Captain’s ankles. The Captain’s whimpers grew more persistent but he wasn’t able to conjure the strength to scream. "What can you tell me of Eobaria’s defenses? A flotilla within the system? A standing garrison aground?"

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

"No!" the Captain blurted, panting, "No…it’s a diplomatic capital, and Parvati’s a bread basket! There’s never been armed conflict anywhere near it!"

"Are you not an enlisted ship captain? A ship I relieved you of this morning?"

"Eobarian shipping companies aren’t military! I’m a civilian!"

Thrayades emitted a noise the mask could not interpret, the equivalent of a scoff. "The absence of present conflict has conditioned you to believe conflict will never come."

"Wh-why are you doing this?! We’re at peace with Scandar, we were the ones who negotiated their nonaggression—ah!" He screamed as the Domitor leaned harder on the braces above his ruined flesh.

"I was there, long-swine.”

Thrayades slammed a three-fingered fist on the console and the braces lifted. Now freed, the Captain’s suppressed pain come back in force, his hands and feet having been ground into ribbons of wet meat. With a dry chitter, Thrayades swept the human up by his throat.

"You dictated what my culture was permitted to be under the threat of force. Does that sound like peace to you?"

Throwing the Captain to the cold floor, Thrayades reached behind his belt and drew a hilt attached to a chain of chitinous pieces, ending in a multi-pronged tip. The chain sword-like weapon resembled the Scandar’s vestigial scorpion tail, humming to life and coursing with glowing fluid. The Domitor lazily whipped the Stinger Chain in circles as he loomed over the Captain.

"I hold the power of life and death over you. I dictate what you are permitted to be. Your word is irrelevant. By your logic, you and I are at peace."

The Domitor flicked his wrist and the Stinger Chain snapped around the Captain’s throat, slashing tiny incisions all around his neck and pumping his bloodstream with a caustic venom. In seconds, he began convulsing and frothing.

"You are welcome, Captain.”