Alatu stood over the battered body of his underling, doing his best to quell the storm of rage swirling inside of him. With a grating breath, he lowered his fists and motioned for another one of his men to remove the broken soldier. He would not earn a reputation as a leader who slew his own men—even those who were foolish enough to bring him bad news.

  Not only had he learned that the squad sent to hunt down the Terran squire had been defeated, but he’d also received a notification that Zarya had sworn loyalty to another. The woman had chosen to betray him rather than become his cherished mate.

  What woman turns down the chance to mate with a rising squire? he thought to himself furiously. My horns are larger than any other Daskian on this planet, and my bloodline is pure. She is a fool to reject my offer.

  Alatu waited until the injured man had been dragged out of the room before returning to his desk. More than anything, he wanted to send out squads of soldiers to hunt down the traitor Zarya, but there were more pressing concerns. The Arriad Republic was testing his hold on the settlement, while the Terran squire was growing more powerful by the day.

  What god cursed me to fight against a newly anointed native squire?

  Few on his home planet had ever faced a native squire before. By the time the Holy System chose one, most of a newly integrated planet was usually subdued. However, this time, the cursed technology of the humans had delayed or even pushed back the initial invasion. His force alone had lost hundreds of men and crucial supplies.

  He swung a clawed hand to knock what the Terrans called a clock off the table. Everywhere he looked, he was confronted by cursed technology. What backward society embraced foolish gadgets over elegant magic? There was no task technology could do that magic couldn’t perform in a superior manner. Once he finished conquering this continent, he would scrub clean the taint of Terran machinery from the face of the land.

  But first, he must find and destroy the Terran squire.

  Alatu rose to his feet, the tips of his horns almost touching the ceiling. He then proceeded to the door and thrust it open. At the sight of his imposing frame, a half dozen Daskians scurried away. Most likely, they didn’t want to incur his wrath.

  He stomped down the hallway until he reached the exit to the building. Striding outside, he fought down the urge to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. This planet was too bright and far too warm. After he’d grown rich off of his conquest, he’d return to his own frozen home and live a life of luxury surrounded by beautiful women.

  The thought of women once again made his anger flare to life. How could Zarya betray him? No other man could ever compare to him. Had she secretly preferred the company of women to men? Nothing else made sense in his mind.

  Growling, he dispelled his thoughts. He would learn the reason for her betrayal after she’d been captured and suitably tortured. The thought of her begging him to take her back soothed his rage slightly. But he needed something more to quell his bloodlust.

  He marched across the paved road and headed toward the place where the bulk of the human prisoners were being kept. Many of them had been put to work building defenses for the town, but the rest were being detained at the local skating rink.

  Arriving at the entrance to the building, he made the symbol of greeting to sub commander Vireko, stationed outside with a half dozen of his men.

  The man straightened up and returned the symbol for subservience in reply. “Greetings, my liege.”

  “I wish to address the humans,” Alatu growled. “Have your men accompany me inside of the building.

  “As you wish, my liege.” Vireko inclined his head slightly before turning and beginning to bark orders at his men. After a few seconds, an honor guard had formed up around Alatu.

  He inspected the men, noting only one of them had earned their armor. Yet their horns shone, and they were well groomed. These men would do for now to intimidate the captive Terrans.

  Pushing open the door, he marched inside with the soldiers arrayed around him. Nearly three hundred Terrans had been crammed into the facility, and the smell of unwashed bodies and waste permeated the air. Most of the eyes that fixated on him looked hopeless, though a few still shone with defiance.

  He would soon quash what little rebelliousness remained in them.

  Alatu walked up the stands surrounding the arena until he stood high over the unwashed mass of humans, like a ruling king. Then he raised his arm to speak into his voicecaster. The magical device was set to magnify his voice.

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  “Terrans!” he boomed. “One of your kind is threatening the tenuous peace I have established with your wretched race. I wish for twenty of you to volunteer to carry a message to this agitator.”

  When none moved, he frowned. “Should none of you volunteer, then I will personally slay fifty of you.”

  This time, a group of Terrans limped and shuffled their way toward the glass surrounding the rink. After a few minutes, a fairly sizeable group had assembled. Far more than Alatu had asked for.

  This will be fun thinning the herd, he thought to himself with vicious glee.

  Stomping down the stairs, he reached for the glass and swung open the door. The humans shied away from him, many of them averting their gazes. He lifted a clawed finger and counted out thirty of them.

  “Follow me, Terran filth,” he roared. The ones he had hadn’t pointed at faded back into the arena except for a single woman.

  “What are you going to do to them?” the woman asked. Her blond hair was unkempt, her face dirty, but her eyes blazed with insolence.

  “I wish only to send a message to the Terran squire.” He stepped forward and glared down at the woman. “What is your name?”

  “My name is Lisa,” she spat back. “And humans will never stop fighting your kind.”

  “Have you not heard?” Alatu sneered. “The inhabitants of this planet have already been defeated. Now we must decide if you are worthy of slavery or if we should exterminate your kind like vermin.”

  “Then why do you need to send a message to a human squire?”

  Alatu scowled at the woman’s words. “A single pest remains. Nothing more.” His hand shot out and wrapped around the woman’s neck. Lifting her from the ground, he tightened his grip as her face turned red and then purple.

  “This is the price of your defiance,” Alatu snarled. He turned to Vireko and pointed at the thirty humans he’d gathered. “Slay ten of them.”

  “My liege?” Vireko knitted his brow. “There are elderly and children among them. Such an act is not honorable…”

  “Do you question my authority?” Alatu roared. As he did, he loosened his grip on Lisa until she could gulp down a lungful of air. He didn’t want her to pass out for what came next. He wanted her to remember the price of talking back to her betters.

  “As you command, my liege.” Vireko drew a long blade from his belt and motioned for his men to follow. They fell upon the humans like a pack of Khakals on the plains of Northern Daskia.

  The pleasant sounds of humans screaming, followed by squelching blood, filled the air as he watched the expression on the Terran named Lisa. Her legs kicked feebly while she scratched at his arms. But nothing she did could harm him. His health stat was far too high for a mere mortal to harm him in any way.

  Alatu cocked his head to the side as he heard a particularly lovely scream. It was like listening to the most beautiful music. The source of the alluring sound was a young girl who tried to flee to what he assumed was her mother. Stupidly, the parent tried to intervene, which left his soldiers no choice but to execute her and then her daughter.

  Unfortunately, the additional death left him with only nineteen Terrans to carry his message. He expected many would fall to the world monsters or the other alien factions roaming the hills. But at least one of them should reach the irritating squire alive.

  They know this place far better than my own forces and should know where one of their pathetic kind would hide.

  Releasing Lisa, he grinned as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her throat. He sincerely hoped he hadn’t crushed her windpipe. These Terrans were such a weak race and broke so easily.

  Now that he’d shown his seriousness to the assembled Terrans, he turned to address the nineteen remaining survivors. Many of them look shocked, their eyes wide with fear, while others had vacant expressions. All of them had droplets of blood splattered across their faces and clothes.

  They were ready to receive his message.

  “Tell the Terran squire that he must surrender himself to me in the town square immediately,” Alatu said. “He must come alone and with no bodyguard. Should he activate his combat deck, I will slay every last Terran in the town. Until he surrenders himself, I will nail ten of your kind to crosses every day. And if he doesn’t present himself to me, then your deaths shall be upon his head.”

  Alatu’s grin broadened, flashing his sharp teeth at the thought of nailing Terran children to crosses. He’d first encountered the torture device shortly after arriving. For some reason, many Terrans mounted miniature versions of it on their walls. He looked forward to testing out its effectiveness.

  “Veriko,” he said. “Escort the humans to the edge of town nearest to where the human squire was last spotted. Set them free and remind them of the message.”

  Without another word, he spun on his heel and marched away from the pile of corpses. While he enjoyed punishing the Terrans, the terrible smell of the arena was beginning to bother his refined sense of smell. He would need to spend hours being bathed in flower petals by his pleasure slaves to rid himself of this horrible scent.

  Outside, he cut across town toward where his harem was located. He would spend the rest of the day with them before drawing up plans to deal with the other alien squires. Many of them were already nipping at his heels like hungry savire cats.

  Normally, there was an unspoken truce in place for the first 60 days of an invasion. During that time, native squires may rise and were impossible to identify. Even their minions presented no information when examined.

  Which is why the invaders usually strived to quell the local population rather than fight amongst themselves. After the native races had been pacified, then the different factions in the empire began the struggle in earnest to control a planet.

  However, this time nothing had gone right. The Terrans had fought back fiercely, destroying many void ships and killing thousands of invaders. Even the greatest abomination, atomic weapons, had been deployed. And their heretical technology had proved surprisingly efficient at killing his men.

  Sensing weakness, and perhaps frightened for their own positions, many of the enemy squires had abandoned the truce. Which meant he would need to fight them sooner rather than later.

  Arriving at the house occupied by his harem, he dispelled the troubling thoughts. For now, all he needed to worry about was planting his seed in the women awaiting him. Then he could concentrate on destroying the last of the Terran resistance and becoming the uncontested ruler of these lands.