Through the Looking Glass

Chapter 5: The Storm

“All credibility, all good conscience, all evidence of truth come only from the senses.” -Friedrich Nietzsche.

The entire planet began to shake; at least that’s what it felt like to Ignatius Valentine as the building rocked and the glass windows shattered with the force from a distant explosion. The people in the diner were looking at the broken glass in terrified confusion.

“What was that?”

“How should I know?”

“Maybe the power plant went up?”

Ignoring the Avilanians, Ignatius walked to the window and thanked the Divine he hadn’t been desperate for another Flash hit just yet.

Nietzscheans.

They were attacking the planet.

Those over muscled, inbred, genetically overhauled sons of bitches with superiority complexes were attacking the damn planet.

“…Avilan’s a peaceful planet, we’re a peaceful people. We have never given anyone cause to go to war with!”

“They don’t need a reason…” muttered Ignatius as he watched first hand what their fire power was capable of.

The ground rocked as another explosion hit, this time taking a quarter of the city before them with it. He thanked the Divine once again for whoever thought to put the visitor’s lodge and docking station a good distance away and on a ravine edge overlooking the deep city.

The city.

A cold chill ran through him.

Beka. Rafe.

Where were his children?

Cursing himself, Ignatius started running as fast as he could towards the Maru praying that they were both there and ready to leave.

>>>

“Beka! Rafe!” Ignatius came running up to his ship as Rafe was coming down the ramp looking very pale.

“Rafe!” Ignatius caught his son by the shoulders. He was here. He was safe. He was with his sister, Rocket had to be here too. He felt a great relief wash over him, now if they could only get off this planet and into slipstream.

“Come on.”

“Dad—“

Ignatius ran onto the ship calling for Beka. Searching.

Cockpit.

Her room.

Rocket.

“Beka? Beka? Rebeka!”

No. Nono. No. No. No. No. Please God no.

Where was she…Rafe was supposed to look after her.

“Where is she? Rafe where the fuck is she?”

“What you actually stayed clean enough to notice?”

Was this his fault? Was he being punished? As pale and shaken as Rafe looked he still threw the flash in his face. Ignatius shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. Rocket was missing.

“Dammit Rafe where the hell’s your sister?” he yelled.

“Dragans! It’s the fucking Drago-Kazov! I read the signatures off the monitors. I haven’t seen Beka for a few hours!”

Where was Beka? Where was his baby girl?

Drago-Kazov.

Where the hell was she...

In a moment of blind panic, Ignatius was off of the ship and running towards the city as fast as he could.

Rocket.

>>>

Screaming and running, people yelling, children crying. It was a nightmare. Beka watched as what she recognized as Nietzschean fighters start their bombing runs over the city as the panicked civilians ran for cover.

Dust clouds from fallen buildings and smoldering rubble rose into the air blocking out the once warm sun and clear blue sky dulling it to a cold bleak grey. Looking around the chaos, Beka was lost. Everything was losing its shape quicker than she could process it. It also didn’t help that the screaming multitudes were pushing her along trying to get out of harms way.

Like that would happen.

She had heard the stories about Nietzschean raids, their slave planets, and especially what they did to Earth. They caused the Fall of the Commonwealth 289 years ago, a civil war that gave way to the Long Night. The Maru had even been shot at by Nietzscheans before. She couldn’t remember which Pride it had been but they were stuck on Olivares Trust for longer than she ever remembered being there. Rafe had said that they were lucky that Nema had been there to pilot them out of it.

But one Nietzschean boarded anyway.

That was the day Nema died.

Beka had always wondered why Wezlow alone had said good-bye to her, and a few years later she found out.

Beka let out a surprised shout as the building beside her was hit and began to crumble. Pushing people aside, she tried to put as much distance between herself and the falling slabs of concrete as they hit the ground with enough force to dent the ground beneath.
She had to move. Had to run. Get back to the Maru find dad and Rafe and high tail it off of this planet before the ground troops…and then she heard it. The unmistakable sound of gauss gun fire. Freezing in place she watched ahead of her as a set of boneblades were buried into a man’s neck. More screaming as he turned and opened fire on helpless civilians.

Ducking out of the way, Beka turned and followed a few others as they fled down an alley, anything to get out of the crowds being slaughtered in the streets.
Uncle Sid had always told her and Rafe scary bedtime stories, mostly involving Nietzscheans. Sid had said that he knew people who preferred the Magog over the Nietzscheans. Why did all those stories have to come back and haunt her now as she was running from the reality of it?

Nietzscheans.

They tortured. They raped. They killed billions without care or mercy.

As Beka followed the people deeper into the maze she was surprised to see green trees ahead. Had they made it to the edge of the city already? The capital was enclosed within a dense forest. Trees surrounded it. They could hide in there. So immersed in her own thoughts she didn’t see three shadows moving with them until the screams of those in front of her met her ears. Beka slid to a stop as she watched a girl in front of her be taken down, material ripped as she fought and struggled weakly as a much larger and stronger male Nietzschean pushed up her skirt.

Heart hammering in her chest, Beka would later wonder what the hell she was thinking. But the girl was a lot younger than she was and she didn’t deserve what the uber had in mind for her.

Beka ran towards them and as she expected he didn’t budge when she grappled onto his back. Arms extending around, she dug her nails into his arm and face as hard as she could.

She got the reaction she was hoping for as the Nietzschean stood in shock and the younger girl scrambled up from beneath him and ran.

It was only when Beka found herself flying through the air and hitting a tree dead on did she think her plan may have needed a little more work.

She was never, ever, ever going anywhere without a gun ever again.

She groaned as the pain throbbed in her head and back. Why did she do that again?

Piss off a Nietzschean, good going Bek.

But another part of her wondered, had he thrown her as hard as he could wouldn’t her spine have shattered? He probably didn’t want her in that much pain if he was going to take from her what he almost did that girl. Managing to open her eyes she saw him walking towards her and was a little surprised when he started laughing. Or maybe she wasn’t. Laugh at the stupid kludge who put herself in harms way for a complete stranger, maybe that was it.

“And what’s this? Aren’t we feeling spunky today,” he chuckled, “You want some of this firecracker?”

She had to move as she doubted anyone was going to be as charitable to save her life. Was anyone even looking for her?

“You know, I think it’s been…what? Three months since my last red head. Sweet little thing she was.” Beka yelped as she found herself pulled face-to-face with him up against the tree. His body pressed against hers. And to think she had been in a position like this not only a half an hour ago, though the circumstances of each didn’t fail to pass by her.

Her head hurt, her back hurt, hell she was still sore between the legs where Mr. Beautiful had been. She closed her eyes as felt her shirt ripped clean off her body and as he pushed his face into her neck and breathed in, a hand moving up her side. Her body was tense and close to snapping that she didn’t notice when her would-be-rapist tensed as well. Smelling her again Beka landed hard on the ground with a thump as he dropped her and stepped back as he coughed and snorted as if to get her scent away from him. She didn’t think she smelled that bad…

“Oi Nez Pierce!” he yelled, “I think you lost something back here!”

Beka let out an indignant ‘hey’ as the Nietzschean threw her over his shoulder and carried her off. What did he want a new location or something? What the hell was he doing and who was he yelling at?

“Guess you already had your share of Nietzschean huh baby?”

What?

She yelled as she was thrown off his shoulder and fell into another hard chest.

“You’re handing something back to me Cyrus? I didn’t think you cared.”

“What? Screw her and smell like you? No fucking way.”

She watched as the Nietzschean, Cyrus, got distracted by a brunette running just off to his right and went chasing after her. Confusion and a heavy sense of foreboding took its place in her stomach, who did she just get handed over to? Beka felt the new Nietzschean behind her dip his head down to smell her neck and hair. In a split second reaction Beka lashed out at him only to have him grab her arms tightly and spin her around to face him.

Shock was an understatement. That face, those eyes, those lips. Her mouth gaped open like a fish as she looked down at his arms for confirmation. The jacket sleeves had been torn to allow his boneblades through.

“Our little rough and tumble a while ago, it probably saved your life.”

Beka tried pulling away from him only to find herself thrown hard onto the ground as Mr. Duh-she-should-have-known-he-was-too-pretty-to-be-human pinned her down. She struggled and tried to kick but it became harder as he got her arms above her head and his waist between her legs.

Beka stopped in exasperation and went limp beneath him. She was more angry than scared. The best sex of her life came from a Nietzschean. She should have known there was something wrong with him, should have known when he didn’t look exhausted, and just other things that should have tipped her off like a red flag. But nooo, she didn’t notice. She was too focused on her own life that she didn’t recognize things that were out of place.

“Get off,” she demanded.

“Already did, you twice if I remember correctly,” he smiled and nipped her chin.

“You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”

He moved his head down her body so his tongue could trace a bare nipple.

“Don’t.”

“You didn’t mind before.”

“That was before, this is now.”

“It’s because I’m Nietzschean isn’t it.”

“Don’t patronize me. You’re attacking a planet, destroying a civilization. What did they ever do to you? Oh wait, Dragans don’t care.”

“You noticed.”

“Only the worst would attack a peaceful people.”

“Actually our worst are terrorizing Earth. Seem to get off on it. It’s kind of sick.”

Beka squirmed as he refocused his attention on her breasts and cursed her body for responding when she felt a familiar wetness form between her thighs.

Licking the top of her breast, Telemachus continued moving up to bite her collarbone and traced his way up her neck to nip her ear before looking her in the eyes.

“Way I see it you have two choices. Stay down on the ground with me or you can try your luck again and run. You might be brought back to me again or the next Nietzschean you meet won’t be as picky or care that I had you first. Pleasure is pleasure and Cyrus was a friend.”

“So either you rape me or someone else does is that it?”

“I’m not going to touch you.” He nuzzled her neck, “Unless you want me to.”

“What?”

“It’s not my style," he mumbled against her skin.

“One of your Prides favourite past times…isn’t your ‘style’?” Beka was now more than slightly confused. If he wasn’t going to force himself on her than what, was he was just going to keep her pinned down until…

“What?”

“What?”

“What’s with the look, Red?”

“What look?”

“That look.”

“Red?” asked Beka.

“You’d prefer kludge?”

“What look?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop wha—“ Beka was cut off as she felt a pair of lips descend over hers. It was soft and brief, almost enough to cut out the distant rumble of ship engines and ground raiders.

“You’re not like them…are you?” Her small reprieve was interrupted as he snorted and laughed at her.

"Adorable little kludge."

So he didn’t rape like his brothers-in-arms, that didn’t make him any different than them did it? There had to be other men in the Pride that held the same views he did. So what if he was adopted…he was still Drago-Kazov.

As briefly as the thought came, it was gone and out of his mind as Telemachus set himself with a smirk at the confused female beneath him. He had hoped to find her again when the raid started, and found her he did. Well, okay so she was thrown at him, but he still found her. He had thought he saw a flash of red float into that alley when he motioned for his group to follow. Telemachus trailed a hand down her neck and between her breasts to her stomach and back up to cup a mound. He could smell her response to him and feel her legs tightening around him. Something which she was probably unaware of. It was a nice change for him to see her without a shirt. The last time he had his hands under it, this time it was nowhere to be seen.

Cyrus. Telemachus almost snorted. The first thing he usually did was rip some sort of material clean off.

He leaned his head down to run his tongue over the underside of her breast. She was small and pert, the perfect size to fit in his hands.
Moving his hand back down he started on undoing the buttons on her pants. He was half way done when Beka seemed to finally notice what was happening and grabbed his hand to stop it.

“Wait.”

“Tell me you don’t want it.”

If she could see herself in a mirror, Beka was pretty sure that the lust reflected in his eyes would match equally with hers. She was already feeling hot, her skin tinged with sweat.

Everything around her was drowned out by his eyes and what she felt. She could feel his erection pressed against her and the ache between her own thighs. She suddenly became aware of just how tight her legs were holding on to him, and how much tighter they could be with him inside of her. Her body was screaming, he needed to make the ache go away.

All thought fled as Beka leaned up and kissed him, her tongue sliding into his mouth as he pushed her back down to the ground as he finished undoing the buttons.
Beka gasped when he ripped her pants quickly down her legs, she could feel the grass beneath her whole body now. A low rumble sounded in Telemachus's throat as he took in the sight before him.
Maybe he should take this one back to Enga’s Redoubt just to keep her naked in his bed...

He ran his hands over her calves and up her thighs as he leaned up her body and pushed her legs further apart, dipping his head down to bite her inner thigh. Moving higher he couldn't help running the flat of his tongue slow and trecherously between her wet folds. Her scent was overpowering.

Beka's back arched at the contact and she whimpered in protest as his tongue left her centre and moved up over her stomach and breasts.

When he finally covered her mouth with his, Beka thought she could taste herself on his tongue as he duelled with hers before pulling back in favour of her neck.

She felt him at her entrance a split second before he pushed inside her for the second time that day. She ran one of her hands up under his shirt and over the broad muscled expanse of his back as the other ran through and his short hair.

He rocked his hips hard against hers and groaned at the tight heat that enveloped him. Gripping her thighs, Telemachus pulled out almost all the way before slamming himself back deep inside of her, Beka's walls clenched tightly around him as his hardness impaled her with as much ease as her natural resistence would allow. The pace and rhythm of his thrusts continued to increase until she couldn't hold back her climax and went over the edge, her nails digging sharply into his back. The slight sensation of pain resonated down his spine as he jerked into her a few final times. Telemachus felt his body tense with release as his seed shot deep inside of Beka.

He collapsed his weight onto his arms to keep from crushing her. Their heavy breathing mingled with the distant sounds of dust and ruin, barely heard above their post-coital recovery. Had it not been for his heightened senses, Telemachus may have missed being called.

“Tel, let’s go!” a sharp whistle was blown in their direction. Telemachus lifted his head slowly towards the sound and looked down at a still recovering Beka. What a lovely day it had been. He had been able to satisfy both sex and aggression leaving him with a clear head to prepare for the next strike against Avilan. Now what to do with the girl?
Hmmm why the hell not...

“Primaries are over," he said, "my shift’s up.” Telemachus leant down and pressed his lips to hers. “Ten minutes before the next patrol sweeps, be gone before then.”

Beka blinked up at him dazedly. What? He wasn’t taking her as a slave? Did he just let her…go? She felt him pull out of her and hike her pants back up around her hips before he stood up and took care of himself.
She pulled herself up to rest on a large fallen log and watched him with curiosity.

He didn’t rape her. He wouldn't slave her.

Hell if she hadn’t kissed him first, he would have just stayed there to prevent her from being forced into something by another of his Pride. What was it with this one?

“Beka? Beka!” She turned her head sharply to the right. She could hear her name being called in the distance.

Daddy?

She yelped when something heavy hit her shoulder. It took her a second to realize that it was her not-the-typical-Nietzschean’s leather jacket.

She wrapped it around her chest as she stared up at him. Blue met moody hazel as their eyes locked before another yell for Beka and another for the Nietzschean called him away from her. She watched him back away slowly before turning around and was gone between the trees.

Their first raid was over, the second would begin again soon. The voice calling her name got closer, she turned.

“D-dad!” A croaky yell. Was her voice that hoarse?

“BEKA?” She watched as her father came running up the slope, his eyes widened when he saw her and his speed increased to get to her.

He was ripping off his own jacket to put around her shoulders as he pulled her tight against him.

“Oh god, god Rocket, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Beka tried to move her head around his shoulder so she could breath, he was hugging her so tight. Were those his tears running down her neck? Why was he…

It took her moment to fully realize what it was he was seeing:
Her hair was a mess, her back and shoulders were scratched and bleeding from where she hit the tree, there were bruises on her back and wrists; probably grass stains on her back and pants as well; and her shirt was nowhere to be seen.

Beka closed her eyes.

Oh God was right.