Wrage (Galaxy Gladiators #11) - Alana Khan
Chapter One
Wrage
“She’s ugly and has no talent. Why would they hire her?” I ask, not trying to keep my voice down even though we’re only a few fiertos from the stage.
“She’s got a nice voice,” my friend Justus says as he pours himself another glass of the local fermented havaché the waitress just set on our table.
“You only say that because you’ve been a slave all your life, what would you know of talent?” I goad. “I wasn’t enslaved in a gladiator training school until I was fifteen. I know how a good vocalist should sound.”
“You’re just angry, Wrage. Everyone at this table knows you fell hard for the female who tricked you out of the credits you were saving to buy your freedom. She looked a lot like the singer you’re insulting. Don’t hold it against her. Her voice is pretty.”
“Pretty as my ass,” I gripe as I refill my glass and inspect the performer more closely. Justus is right, she reminds me of Sibyl, the bitch my owner sent to my bunk night after night. She and my owner conspired against me, got me to fall in love with her, then tricked me into buying her freedom at the cost of all the credits I’d saved with the hope of buying my own. I never saw her again after the day I handed over all my money.
Too bad someone else killed him during the slave revolt; I wish I could have done it with my bare hands. That was two lunars ago. After that, I was welcomed aboard a ship of escaped gladiators running from the law. I’m glad to be free, but I’m not ready to return to my home planet. I don’t know if I ever want to go back there.
I don’t know where I belong, but I don’t think it’s onboard the ship with the others. I’m restless. Trained as a gladiator for the last fifteen annums, I’m not even certain I want to fight. I don’t know what to do with my newfound freedom—it makes me irritable.
“You need singing lessons,” I shout, then take a long swig of havaché.
“You need lessons in good manners,” she snips back immediately, looking down her nose at me from the stage.
Anger flares from my belly then races to heat my face. Dracking bitch is mocking me?
“Who’d you drack to get this job?” I stab her with an angry stare from under my brows.
She had turned to the other side of the audience to sing her next song, ignoring me, but her eyes snap to mine because of my question. Despite her anger, she says nothing, just keeps singing.
“Wrage, brother, she wears a slave collar. It’s only been two lunars since you’ve worn one. Why would you provoke the female? She’s just doing her job.”
“Because she’s irritating the drack out of me.”
“Don’t get us kicked out of here. I like watching the pretty little thing. Go have fun in the gaming room next door.” He waves toward the arched doorway into the casino.
“Pretty little things can rip you apart, my friend. Have at her.” I’m surprised when I lean to one side as I rise. I didn’t think I drank that much. Weaving a little, I make my way into the casino, fascinated by the lights and noises of the machines. Those don’t interest me, though. I head for the klempto tables.
Elyse
The galaxy has no shortage of assholes, I think as I watch the big blue male stagger out of the bar. I thought I’d met my share of assholes before I was abducted. It wasn’t more than two hours after my abduction to outer space before I realized I hadn’t seen anything yet. Earth assholes don’t hold a candle to space assholes.
It’s been a demanding four years since I left Earth. I’m a completely different person. Hard. Bitter. Angry.
I received my two-year degree in culinary school, but when I turned twenty-one, I took up my real love—singing. I began making decent money in high-end bars, singing and playing piano. I specialized in torch songs throughout the decades. I loved belting out the heart-wrenching songs of unrequited desire. From “The Man I Love” Billie Holiday style, to some of Adele’s most soulful renderings.
I loved my life.
Then I was abducted by squat, tusky alien bastards, Urluts. They sold me to a reptilian male who discovered my talent and sent me all over this sector to sing. I’ve had three other owners since then, all of whom treated me as shitty as