Alluvial. Valos of Sonhadra Book 1

Chapter 3

PRETA

This prison ship has been cruising above Earth for something like ten years. It made big news back when it was launched. It didn't matter to me much then. It didn't affect my life at all, actually—not until I became a pawn.

Charlie is a soldier. Our dad's a soldier. Both of them really are super soldiers—but not the laboratory-engineered kind. They're entirely where they are today through God-given-talent and hard work. Both have access to all sorts of sensitive knowledge in plots that make the whole world run smoother, blah, blah—there are big things that they no doubt have big parts in orchestrating: blah. They're the behind-the-scenes-heroes you only hear about in movies.

There's no 'blah' to that part. That part's just cool.

I think Charlie's mom was really a spy. That's my best theory. Honestly, I wouldn't rule it out for grandma Sol either; two dominant, awesome-spy genes converging in our dad, thereby doubling up the action for Charlie's nucleus down the line would make a lot of sense.

My mom must have basically been a true normal, because I was quite average in a long line of greats—but I was happy with that. Happy to be an unwitting civilian who loved two people that did secret things to make the world a little safer. I didn't know what those things were, and as long as they were safe, I didn't care, and didn't care to know their various mission deets. Their secret lives didn't affect me; their job details didn't matter. Not to me.

Someone made it matter. Someone is playing a game and I don't get to see the whole board, or the stakes, or the other players—I don't even know what this game is called, because again—I'm just a pawn.

Someone is trying to hurt our dad, or Charlie, or both. I'm here because I'm leverage, and whoever's running the show thinks they can control two legit super soldiers (the trained, real battle-tested kind, not the made-by-injection kind) by threatening their soft spot. The why's of it aren't important anymore; this has gone beyond a simple threat—I'm on this prison ship, and I've been here for six months. The fact that I'm still incarcerated here means that hell has frozen over. My family is not one to screw with, and their loyalty is vast and unshakable. Whoever pulled strings to get and keep me here is going to have a world of hurt rain down on them, and I'm sure my family is probably burning down cities in their efforts to get me out—I know they are—but in the meantime, things aren't so good here.

Drogan's been adjusting his stride for the purpose of keeping pace with me as we're forced towards the laboratory. Dimly, I register that it's dread that's pooling in my stomach. This isn't the first guard that's been recorded as 'dying in a prison riot,' or whatever they put on the paperwork at the end of the day.

But he is the only guard that I've trusted enough to initiate sex with.

He's also the only man I've made a tiny person with.

We never really spoke of it, because although we tried to hide so we wouldn't get caught fucking, we still feared audible monitoring to an extent.

At least, that's why I never brought it up.

Well... that's one of the reasons I never brought it up. I've also been, from the moment I realized I was pregnant, fully aware that I wouldn't be allowed to keep this baby. I thought, with the crap they pump into me, that it was unlikely I'd get to carry this little life to term, let alone deliver.

I would have been terrified for my child—our child—but I assumed they'd terminate it as soon as they found out, and if they terminate its life before it's born, at least it means they won't be testing on it. No matter what happens, I know I can't do a thing to protect it unless I go free.

And if that hasn't already happened...

I'm pretty sure they don't wrongly imprison an innocent woman, test on her, alter her, and then turn her loose to tell-all to the media.

My future's looking kinda bleak.

When I'm no longer useful to them, I expect to wind up very dead.

Because with my family's skills, let alone resources, whoever's behind this would be damn fools to do what they've done to me and then send me back home with an apology note clipped to my collar. No, they might be trying to use me to force my family into doing whatever they want done, but they have no intention of letting me go afterwards. In the meantime, they're making the best use of me that they can.