Wyvern Protection Unit - Chapter 50: Chapter 50
You are reading Wyvern Protection Unit, Chapter 50: Chapter 50. Read more chapters of Wyvern Protection Unit.
“Why are you here?” the female interrogator asked.
Daeja gritted her teeth to stop from blurting her answer. Her clothing was wet, and she was grossly uncomfortable.
Besides, what could she offer as an explanation? Should she confess her entire species was endangered? That they were without home, without hope, and ruled by a madman?
No. That would leave her in a worse predicament than wet clothes and shackles.
The real reasons she had crash-landed on this godsforsaken planet were better kept to herself.
“Are you here to hurt us?” the female queried.
Ha! That was a laugh. Who captured who?
She wanted to ask but held her tongue. Maybe the woman would reveal more that way. Daeja had learned the hard way that listening was a far more useful tool than blabbing.
It was how she’d learned of Cass Viper’s true plan. The self-important male had revealed his intentions one night while she’d been cleaning his quarters.
Arrogant bastard had continued using her as his personal maid when she refused his attentions. Bad enough that she worked in the sick bay for long shifts, but she also had to tend to his filthy habitat. Still, she’d learned a lot about the horrible male there.
For instance, Cass Viper had brought them to this planet not to find the long-lost princes as he’d said, but rather, to squash their legend. If the four escaped royals turned out to be real, he intended to kill them.
Mixed emotions filled her as she pondered the puzzle of the mystery. So much so, she was no longer paying attention to her prison guard.
If there truly were four prime noble males of the Flamebound line alive and well, why had they not returned to avenge them?
No.
This was surely madness on Commander Viper’s part. Indeed, the only males that remained of the patriarchal Drakein society were now its rulers.
Worst of all was that cowardly son of the last Viper Clan Chieftain, Commander Cass Viper. His horrible dishonor guard, as she’d dubbed them, were just as bad.
Those unworthy males were despicable. Cass Viper was a wholly unworthy representation of her kind. For many centuries, all Drakein Clans had enjoyed the land and lived in peace, but petty disputes and jealousies turned to war, and with it, destruction.
Like the other females, Daeja had not been permitted to fight. As a Flamebound Clan Drakein, she should have been killed. Had even expected it.
“Can you understand my words? Are you here to do good, or harm? Christ, I need answers, but you aren’t making this easy,” the female’s weary voice interrupted her train of thought.
Daeja’s eyes flicked to the woman. The stranger seemed tired, not angry. Cass Viper’s voice played back in her brain. She could still feel his hot, foul breath on her neck when he’d hissed in her ear before her departure.
Tendrils of fear and anxiety snaked through her blood. She wanted to talk to the woman, really, she did. But how could she when such a heavy threat loomed overhead?
“You are to locate the four Drakein stasis pods the Flamebound Clan elders sent to this realm. Do not fail, or your precious apakein will have the pleasure of tasting your nonsuccess.”
It was a ridiculous mission. The pods had been sent in an old, un-crewed craft decades ago with little to no communications support, guidance, or life-sustaining abilities.
If, by some miracle, the pods had survived entry into this atmosphere, the Drakein inside would be too young to rally against Commander Viper.
That he wanted her to destroy younglings made Daeja’s stomach turn sour. There was no way her mission would be successful.
Cass Viper was paranoid at best, and a madman at his worst. But her apakein’s survival depended on her.
“I like your hair. Pink isn’t usually a color we see here unless it’s been treated with dye. Is yours natural?” the female asked, rapping her knuckles on the table.
“The quiet type, huh? We’ll forget about it for now. I’m hungry. You hungry?”
Daeja did not answer. She was hungry, though, and her stomach growled in agreement. The female laughed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and left the room.
Daeja listened and heard the lock click back into place. Earth was a whole lot different from what she’d expected.
Freking hell!
Firstly, her captor was female. That was new. Drakein females did not have the same privileges as males. They were taught to obey, respect, and serve.
This woman seemed different. She was a Shifter, which from Daeja’s studies she’d learned was not common on Earth. In fact, they hid themselves from the majority of the population.
The planet was overrun by a race of beings called hyu-mans. From what Daeja had read, which was far too little, Earth’s inhabitants were a strange species, often warring with each other over things of no consequence.
Questions that made no sense to Daeja. For example, what was better, Coke or Pepsi? Or Who wore it better, this short-lived hyu-man or that one? Stuff and nonsense when people were dying.
But back to the Shifter female. Daeja could not identify the name of her beast. Not a Drakein, for sure, but something else.
Something that scented of feathers, much like the dribein cal of her home planet. The brilliant yellow plumes of the males during their mating season had been her favorite to observe.
The sound of the lock being turned had Daeja raising her eyes to the portal, er, door once more. She was picking up the colloquial terms rather efficiently. Even if they sounded funny on her tongue.
“Door,” she whispered, and stared at the tiny rectangular hunk of metal.
What was with non-Drakeins and rectangles?
The planet was full of them. All hard lines and planes. Nothing like the smooth ovals that were found all throughout Drakeinan.
She snapped to attention as the female leader returned. Her eyes still seemed troubled, the glass shields she wore over them could not disguise her emotions from Daeja.
Maybe she had it wrong and those glass windows were weapons of a sort! Some kind of laser sight that could harm a Drakein.
The horror! Daeja squinted and made ready to duck.
“I’m back and I have brought sustenance,” the female said as a delightfully enticing aroma reached Daeja’s nostrils.
“Let’s start from the beginning. My name is Jennifer Dylluan. Now, I think you can understand me, but you’re distrustful. I get that. Will it help if I tell you I am not going to harm you?”
At that, Daeja made a face and looked down at her sopping wet clothes and manacles.
“Right. Okay, fellas let’s unlock the cuffs,” the female, Jennifer Dylluan, spoke aloud.
Daeja gasped in surprise when a moment later her manacles were unlocked. She moaned appreciatively and rubbed her wrists.
“Here,” Jennifer Dylluan said, holding out a large piece of cloth.
Daeja nodded, accepting the thing and wrapped it around her body with an appreciative shiver. It was warm and smelled wonderful like fields of fresh verander grass.
“Warm enough? I will make sure you have a change of clothes promptly, but I thought you might like some food. Are you hungry?”
At Daeja’s sharp nod, the female continued.
“You nodded, so you do understand me?” Jennifer Dylluan asked, a smirk on her face.
“What is your name?” she asked.
The female began taking wrapped objects out of a brown paper bag with strange markings stamped across it. Daeja did not know of any McDonald in all her research.
But that had been limited, of course. Questions flooded her mind. Who was McDonald? Why was he possessive over a paper bag as was indicated by the use of the apostrophe? What were the strange objects dancing across the paper's surface?
But really, there was one question that was tantamount to all.
Was McDonald the leader of this planet?
Daeja gritted her teeth to stop from blurting her answer. Her clothing was wet, and she was grossly uncomfortable.
Besides, what could she offer as an explanation? Should she confess her entire species was endangered? That they were without home, without hope, and ruled by a madman?
No. That would leave her in a worse predicament than wet clothes and shackles.
The real reasons she had crash-landed on this godsforsaken planet were better kept to herself.
“Are you here to hurt us?” the female queried.
Ha! That was a laugh. Who captured who?
She wanted to ask but held her tongue. Maybe the woman would reveal more that way. Daeja had learned the hard way that listening was a far more useful tool than blabbing.
It was how she’d learned of Cass Viper’s true plan. The self-important male had revealed his intentions one night while she’d been cleaning his quarters.
Arrogant bastard had continued using her as his personal maid when she refused his attentions. Bad enough that she worked in the sick bay for long shifts, but she also had to tend to his filthy habitat. Still, she’d learned a lot about the horrible male there.
For instance, Cass Viper had brought them to this planet not to find the long-lost princes as he’d said, but rather, to squash their legend. If the four escaped royals turned out to be real, he intended to kill them.
Mixed emotions filled her as she pondered the puzzle of the mystery. So much so, she was no longer paying attention to her prison guard.
If there truly were four prime noble males of the Flamebound line alive and well, why had they not returned to avenge them?
No.
This was surely madness on Commander Viper’s part. Indeed, the only males that remained of the patriarchal Drakein society were now its rulers.
Worst of all was that cowardly son of the last Viper Clan Chieftain, Commander Cass Viper. His horrible dishonor guard, as she’d dubbed them, were just as bad.
Those unworthy males were despicable. Cass Viper was a wholly unworthy representation of her kind. For many centuries, all Drakein Clans had enjoyed the land and lived in peace, but petty disputes and jealousies turned to war, and with it, destruction.
Like the other females, Daeja had not been permitted to fight. As a Flamebound Clan Drakein, she should have been killed. Had even expected it.
“Can you understand my words? Are you here to do good, or harm? Christ, I need answers, but you aren’t making this easy,” the female’s weary voice interrupted her train of thought.
Daeja’s eyes flicked to the woman. The stranger seemed tired, not angry. Cass Viper’s voice played back in her brain. She could still feel his hot, foul breath on her neck when he’d hissed in her ear before her departure.
Tendrils of fear and anxiety snaked through her blood. She wanted to talk to the woman, really, she did. But how could she when such a heavy threat loomed overhead?
“You are to locate the four Drakein stasis pods the Flamebound Clan elders sent to this realm. Do not fail, or your precious apakein will have the pleasure of tasting your nonsuccess.”
It was a ridiculous mission. The pods had been sent in an old, un-crewed craft decades ago with little to no communications support, guidance, or life-sustaining abilities.
If, by some miracle, the pods had survived entry into this atmosphere, the Drakein inside would be too young to rally against Commander Viper.
That he wanted her to destroy younglings made Daeja’s stomach turn sour. There was no way her mission would be successful.
Cass Viper was paranoid at best, and a madman at his worst. But her apakein’s survival depended on her.
“I like your hair. Pink isn’t usually a color we see here unless it’s been treated with dye. Is yours natural?” the female asked, rapping her knuckles on the table.
“The quiet type, huh? We’ll forget about it for now. I’m hungry. You hungry?”
Daeja did not answer. She was hungry, though, and her stomach growled in agreement. The female laughed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and left the room.
Daeja listened and heard the lock click back into place. Earth was a whole lot different from what she’d expected.
Freking hell!
Firstly, her captor was female. That was new. Drakein females did not have the same privileges as males. They were taught to obey, respect, and serve.
This woman seemed different. She was a Shifter, which from Daeja’s studies she’d learned was not common on Earth. In fact, they hid themselves from the majority of the population.
The planet was overrun by a race of beings called hyu-mans. From what Daeja had read, which was far too little, Earth’s inhabitants were a strange species, often warring with each other over things of no consequence.
Questions that made no sense to Daeja. For example, what was better, Coke or Pepsi? Or Who wore it better, this short-lived hyu-man or that one? Stuff and nonsense when people were dying.
But back to the Shifter female. Daeja could not identify the name of her beast. Not a Drakein, for sure, but something else.
Something that scented of feathers, much like the dribein cal of her home planet. The brilliant yellow plumes of the males during their mating season had been her favorite to observe.
The sound of the lock being turned had Daeja raising her eyes to the portal, er, door once more. She was picking up the colloquial terms rather efficiently. Even if they sounded funny on her tongue.
“Door,” she whispered, and stared at the tiny rectangular hunk of metal.
What was with non-Drakeins and rectangles?
The planet was full of them. All hard lines and planes. Nothing like the smooth ovals that were found all throughout Drakeinan.
She snapped to attention as the female leader returned. Her eyes still seemed troubled, the glass shields she wore over them could not disguise her emotions from Daeja.
Maybe she had it wrong and those glass windows were weapons of a sort! Some kind of laser sight that could harm a Drakein.
The horror! Daeja squinted and made ready to duck.
“I’m back and I have brought sustenance,” the female said as a delightfully enticing aroma reached Daeja’s nostrils.
“Let’s start from the beginning. My name is Jennifer Dylluan. Now, I think you can understand me, but you’re distrustful. I get that. Will it help if I tell you I am not going to harm you?”
At that, Daeja made a face and looked down at her sopping wet clothes and manacles.
“Right. Okay, fellas let’s unlock the cuffs,” the female, Jennifer Dylluan, spoke aloud.
Daeja gasped in surprise when a moment later her manacles were unlocked. She moaned appreciatively and rubbed her wrists.
“Here,” Jennifer Dylluan said, holding out a large piece of cloth.
Daeja nodded, accepting the thing and wrapped it around her body with an appreciative shiver. It was warm and smelled wonderful like fields of fresh verander grass.
“Warm enough? I will make sure you have a change of clothes promptly, but I thought you might like some food. Are you hungry?”
At Daeja’s sharp nod, the female continued.
“You nodded, so you do understand me?” Jennifer Dylluan asked, a smirk on her face.
“What is your name?” she asked.
The female began taking wrapped objects out of a brown paper bag with strange markings stamped across it. Daeja did not know of any McDonald in all her research.
But that had been limited, of course. Questions flooded her mind. Who was McDonald? Why was he possessive over a paper bag as was indicated by the use of the apostrophe? What were the strange objects dancing across the paper's surface?
But really, there was one question that was tantamount to all.
Was McDonald the leader of this planet?
End of Wyvern Protection Unit Chapter 50. Continue reading Chapter 51 or return to Wyvern Protection Unit book page.