The Soldier and the Slave: The Alien Gun, #1

By Len Streeper

Ever since slavers took Ishiko as a child to be trained, she dreamed of the day she would be sold. She excelled at her lessons and became the most skilled and expensive slave in Master Wong's inventory. When her new owner walked into the room all her fantasies evaporated and her nightmares came to life. Master Flint came from another planet and stood taller than any man she ever saw. His size was intimidating, but what scared Ishiko most were his eyes, as cold and passionless as a corpse's.

 

The off-worlder erupted with violence and moved with super human speed and precision. With the blast of his gun, Ishiko found herself in possession of something she never expected to have: her freedom. This stranger came to set all the slaves free, but it was a wasted gift for Ishiko. She spent too long as a slave and knew she couldn't survive alone in the world outside. Besides, losing the slaves and having so many of his men killed put Master Wong in a precarious position with his enemies. The only way to regain his standing was to capture his slaves and kill the man responsible for this insult. To keep her fragile freedom, Ishiko must flee with her new Master.

 

It doesn't take long to discover Master Wong has an army of employees throughout the city. After a deadly encounter with Master Wong's men, Ishiko learns the source of Master Flint's speed and skill: Aliens from a lost civilization built his gun, but even the advanced weapon isn't enough to save them from Master Wong's rage.

 

Master Flint's rescue turns into a race to his ship to get Ishiko forever beyond Master Wong's reach. If they fail, Master Wong's revenge will have Ishiko begging for death days before he grants her the final release.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Len Streeper
• Release date: Jun 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393186243

Book preview

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The Soldier and the Slave

By

Len Streeper

Other Works by Len Streeper

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The Drunken Dragon's Tavern Series

The Virgin, the Dragon and the Tavern (Book One)

The Wizard, The Assassin and the Preacher (Book Two)

The Warrior, the Witch and the Wedding (Book Three)

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The Drunken Dragon's Tavern Patron Stories

Leland the Dragon Slayer

Thieves of the Drunken Dragon's Tavern

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The Alien Gun Series

The Soldier and the Slave (Book One)

The Knowledge Bank (Book Two)

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Other Works

Beta Reader Blues - A beginners Guide to Beta Reading for New Writers

Map to Desire - an Anthology

The Soldier and the Slave © 2016 by Len Streeper

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and/or retrieval system, or dissemination of any electronic version, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review, and except where permitted by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Published by Len Streeper

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Cover design © 2016 by Leonard Streeper

Images supplied by Getty Images and Adobe Stock

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Dedication

To Quinn, Kelsey, and Bruce.

Acknowledgements

Writing a book is never a solo endeavor, not if I want it to be any good. Without the help of the following people, this book would be much worse if I even bothered to finish it.

I’ll start with Stephanie Maxwell. You were an excellent sounding board when I first talked about my ideas for the Soldier and the Slave. With the patience of a saint you gently steered me back on course whenever I lost faith in this book. Thank you Steph.

Next, I need to acknowledge Nate Streeper. Without your suggestions and eye to detail, even Steph’s encouragement wouldn’t have made this book worth reading. From tearing apart my first page to pointing out some severe plotting problems you invested real effort in making this story fantastic. I’ll never forget your time, effort and dedication. Thank you Nate.

The next person I want to thank is my wife Becky. She is an unsung hero in the making of this story. She didn’t read my manuscript and give me feedback, what marriage needs that kind of stress? Your role was much more subtle and selfless and your contribution to this book came in the form of time. You never got jealous of the seemingly endless hours I spent at my keyboard or complained when I neglected you. For all your sacrifices, thank you Becky.

And last, but certainly not least, are my new beta readers, Clayton, Bruce, Staci and another Nate. Thank you so much for reading and in some cases rereading my humble story. Not only that, but for patiently answering all my whiney questions. All of you made this book a reality. Thank you.

Table of Contents

Title

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter One

Hurry up!  The young man screamed from the doorway and looked down the hall. Ishiko learned long ago to call him, and all other men, Master.  Chan-Juan Soun, the recipient of his scream, hadn’t been here long enough to know he was among the kinder Masters.  He yelled often but rarely struck a slave.  Her buyer will be here any minute.

Why do you insist on using these stupid pencils. You should use automatic makeup devices. Master.  Chan-Juan hadn’t been a slave long enough to call a man Master with any ease.  She did get enough whippings to at least use the word.  The young Master’s yelling did nothing to steady Chan-Juan’s hand with the eye liner.  Ishiko took the pencil away to outline her almond eyes herself to avoid risking blindness.

It is about tradition and discipline, said Ishiko, working the brushes, wands and pencils quickly and efficiently.  Applying makeup was an integral part of her slave training.  When she finished, she looked away from the mirror and turned to the young Master.

Here.  Master tossed her a white silken hanfu trimmed in pale green.  Ishiko slipped it over her naked body while Chan-Juan fastened it.  When she finished, Ishiko faced the young Master with downcast eyes as he inspected her.  Very nice. In his tone, Ishiko heard admiration for her beauty. When she first came here one of the harshest lessons the slavers taught was never to look at a Master’s face. Much of her success in becoming a valuable slave was learning to interpret the nuances in a Master’s voice.

The young Master reached out to take her arm then hesitated.  Since she was to be sold, he needed to be extra careful.  If he damaged her clothing, crushed and wrinkled the silk or, ancestors forbid, ruined her elaborate hairdo, it would help the buyer when they haggled over her price.  Come this way.  He led her out of the slaves dressing area, down a hall past the slave quarters and up two flights of stairs. They walked down another hall, shorter but much nicer, and into a large room. The large room had a concrete floor with several pillars holding up the high ceiling. In the center of the room sat a small red velvet kneeling pillow.

She kept her eyes lowered, as was proper for a slave, but noted several men standing around. With few exceptions, they seemed two or three years older than Ishiko.  Most were unarmed but some held laser pistols. Ishiko knew they were deadly because she watched a stubborn slave executed with one. Others had guns that reminded Ishiko of the day her family was murdered and they took her away.

The young Master led her to the pillow.  Kneel. Ishiko did as instructed but felt sick to her stomach as her knees landed on the cushion.  Life in the slave pens was unpleasant, but familiar. They trained her for three years in the arts of pleasing a man yet kept her virginity in tact.  She had no idea what to expect of the person who came to purchase her. Her new master might beat, or even kill her for his pleasure.  He purchased something that could disappear with no one caring what became of her. She never expected the tiny rooms they locked her in, beaten her in, to feel safe. The one thing giving her comfort was her extravagant price. Surely anyone who paid so much intended to take care of their property.

Ishiko watched as a Master slowly walked around her, inspecting the merchandise. He was Lord Master, the one in charge of the slaves as well as the instructors. For some reason slaves never knew names.  Ishiko suspected it was to protect the Masters from a slaves new owners. 

Very nice.  He squatted in front of her and lifted her chin.  You’ve done very well for us.  The man buying you took one look at your image and fell in love.  This Master, an older man, perhaps forty-five, spoke with a hint of sarcasm.  The men in the room chuckled; from the beginning they taught her no one fell in love with a slave.  He must have liked what he saw, he didn’t even haggle over the price.  The men chuckled again, apparently thinking they made a fine deal and perhaps cheated the buyer. Master released her chin and stepped away.

Ishiko didn’t understand why they wanted to bait her into an outburst.  She never rebelled beyond a few small acts in the beginning.  Each tiny rebellion earned her a severe beating or some degrading chore.  It hadn’t taken long for her to accept the reality of her new life.  Once she did, things became easier.  She found herself among a lucky few who kept their virginity in tact.  Punishments for other girls had included more invasive abuses to their bodies.

Ishiko waited in immobile silence while the men in the room made small talk.  After ten minutes or so Lord Master began pacing the length of the room.  He’s late.  Ishiko heard the irritation in his voice and knew he would vent it by punishing some poor girl tonight.  Hasn’t he shown up on the monitors?

No, sir. Maybe he got lost.  He is a stranger to this planet, maybe he doesn’t know how to read signs or follow directions.

Or maybe he works for Lord Soun.

Ishiko started in surprise.  Soun was Chan-Juan’s family name.  That could not be a coincidence.

Doubtful.  This voice belonged to someone Ishiko never met before. He dotes on the girl, he won’t risk her safety.

Unless he thinks we’ve ruined the girl beyond redemption.  Lord Master made a disgusted noise and paced faster.  Send the high and mighty Police Chief another video of the mild punishment we've given her.  Let him know it’s the worst we’ve done, and it was only to make her behave.  I don’t see the problem, her own father probably beat her worse when she misbehaved.

A Master left the room to carry out Lord Masters order.  Ishiko found it interesting they had the granddaughter of a powerful man here.  It explained why Chan-Juan got different treatment.

Make sure all the cameras are recording.  If this man does work for the police, I want to know everything there is to know about him.  Also, make sure all the men are armed and at their positions.  If he is leading a squad of Lord Soun’s elite guard, I want to make sure they don't get out alive.

Another man left.  When he came back, he brought several men with him.  They all had guns and passed more guns around to the men already in the room.

Ishiko wondered why Lord Master had a police chief's relative here.  Although it didn’t matter to her, it served to distract from the fears she had no control over.  The conclusion she came to seemed obvious; Lord Master broke the law and needed leverage over the police.

After another twenty minutes passed Lord Master sighed and Ishiko heard the tension leave his stride.  He’s not coming.  Everyone relax.  Have the girl brought to my room.

Ishiko felt a thrill of relief when Lord Master said the man wasn’t coming. Dread at being ordered to his room followed on the heels of her relief.  Now she would suffer for the lost profit as if the broken agreement was her fault.  She wanted to cry but knew messing her makeup increased her punishment.

He must have heard you, my lord.  The man Ishiko thought was Lord Master’s assistant chuckled.  He just showed up on the monitor.

He’s almost an hour late.  I’m tempted to charge him a nuisance fee.

Maybe he got the time wrong.  Ishiko heard the shrug in assistant Master’s voice.  She learned long ago how to listen for cues in mens voices.  A simple vocal nuance might become a mater of survival.

Maybe.  Lord Master sounded like he didn’t believe it.  Everyone, stay alert.  This doesn’t feel right.

Then call it off, said Assistant Master.

I want to, but Lord Wong insists on her sale.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Let him in.  Lord Master moved so he towered in front and to the right of Ishiko. Her heart raced as she heard the footsteps of her new owner approach. When he came into the room, she glanced at him, watched him from beneath her eyelashes.  It was a trick she learned but seldom used.  If the Masters took notice, they would forever watch for it.

The first thing she noticed was his height, at least twenty-five centimeters taller than any man she ever saw.  Then she noticed his face and stifled a gasp.  He looked exotic beyond all imagining.  His pale blue eyes were round, lacking an epicanthic fold, while his haunting gaze looked cold as a viper’s. Ishiko never saw eyes that color before. The light colored stubble on his face looked less like a beard and more like grime.  The unruly hair on his head was bright, almost the color of sand and his shaggy bangs fell over his forehead.  Even his eyebrows were pale, almost invisible. His long black coat offset his fair coloring and hung loose about him like a shadow made of fabric. It had some kind of cape attached to it that covered his shoulders and made him look wider, stronger. As if his intimidating height wasn’t enough.

A slight movement drew her attention back to his eyes.  Despite his strangeness, his eyes still managed to stop her heart. They held no expression, even robots had more soul than this man.  His eyes promised misery and torment; she didn't want to be sold to him.  How long did she have to live?  Hours?  And how would those hours be spent?  How much pain would she experience?  After seeing this man, she longed for Lord Master’s cruelty, at least she knew what to expect from him.  Ishiko never felt this afraid before, not even when the Masters murdered her family and brought her here.  Nothing scared her as much as this man owning her.  She felt tears burn her eyes and fought the hardest battle of her life to keep them from spilling.  As much as her fear wanted release, she didn’t want any reason for this man to be displeased with her.

Ishiko watched his eyes dart around and she knew he took note of every man in the room, of every gun, and likely every hiding spot as well.

Welcome Mr. Lynch.  Lord Master gestured at Ishiko with an open hand.  Here is Ishiko.  Pay for her and go.

Master Lynch - ancestors, what a name for this man - cocked an eyebrow at Lord Master’s rudeness.

Forgive my rudeness.  Lord Master didn’t sound the least bit sorry, he just mouthed the words custom dictated.  You’re late and I’m due for another appointment. The tension in Lord Master’s voice, a slight tremor and a slightly higher pitch, indicated he had no appointment. He sounded like a slave who knew she made some minor transgression yet hoped to escape punishment. Something about Master Lynch made him nervous. She didn't blame him, Master Lynch made her nervous too. Lets conclude our business and go our separate ways.

Master Lynch sighed, a fatalistic sound Ishiko didn't understand.  He sounded like he expected bad things were about to happen and was powerless to stop them. Ishiko didn’t understand how a man with Master Lynch’s eyes could be powerless.

I’m changing our deal.  I want all the girls. Master Lynch stood perfectly still as if he didn’t want Lord Master to feel threatened which was the most threatening thing of all.

If you have enough money, you can have them all.