"Prisoners." The voice echoed throughout the cave.
M'Trunda had a way of using his voice as a weapon. Some of the others had joked over the years that one simple word could send an army fleeing in terror. If only that were true.
Herzert pawed over the console, beyond which, projected images of a battle-map extended to the ground. He turned from his work and stared at the shivering Humans, chained and flanked either side by Triskani warriors.
The ground rumbled as another explosion impacted the ground far off. These rumbles had become common in the days and weeks since The Confederation arrived.
"Good," Herzert said as he walked the length of the room. He stalked the line, inspecting each of them carefully. Most flinched as his eyes fell upon them. One though, remained unshaken. "This one," he pointed a broken claw.
"The others?" M'Trunda asked.
Herzert carefully considered his next words. He stared passed the prisoners attempting to conjure up the language common among Humans. "Feed them to the beasts of burden."
Their faces contorted, some let out shrieked pleas. One spat at Herzert, slinging insults and taunts. Wiping the saliva from his face, he licked his hand.
"Thank you, Human." He mocked. "Kill this one last," he said, as he turned to M'Trunda. "Make it slow."
One of the Triskani warriors knelt down to the unshaken Human and released his chains. As they stood back up he butted the nearest with his rifle, which caused a ripple of stumbles amongst them.
M'Trunda nodded, and turned to follow the prisoners away.
Their cries and unmissable misery resonated down the hallway. The sounds of chains rattling was heavy on the air. The chorus of noise became lower in the distance. The room fell silent. Old consoles hummed. Jittering noise from old tech ticked, full of life. It reminded Herzert of the sound of the Dead Lakes, the noise growing up filled him with wonder and excitement. The next hunt, the next trial, the next level climbed on the bodies of the fallen. Now, his home pool had become tainted by the presence of Humans.
"Humans from the air they come. Humans from our pool they drink. Humans from Trisk they run. Humans in our swamps they sink." He said slowly, reciting his song to the Human standing before him. "Accurate history of this failed attempt?" Herzert held the Human in his eyes, ever unflinching.
Humans were funny creatures. Their dress signified importance. Herzert had formed an understanding of their kind in the time they had been on his world. The heavier the armor, the less they knew. The countless attempts at torture had revealed very little information. They are susceptible to all manor of pain. Their flesh was exposed, protected by no scales or bone plating. Instead, they had to fashion their own protection from inorganic material. The ones who were only cloth as protection seemed to be the ones in charge. Their fearlessness gave them rank above the frightened armor wearing hordes.
"I will start slowly, Human." Herzert said, after a long silence. "What is your name," he paused for a moment. "Why have you come to my homeworld?"
"I am Harvet Gnash, under the order of Admiral Yittias." He boldly stated. While his uniform was muddy, and torn, he stood proudly. "The Confederation has launched an intergalactic campaign to lay claim to all worlds of Free Space. You must submit, or be destroyed."
"Lay claim? My world is already claimed, Human." Herzert replied. "I would like to relay this message to your leaders."
"The Confederation will hear only your declaration of surrender." The Human stated proudly; Defiant, standing tall with his chest extended.
"There is no Triskani word for surrender. Your language is a poison to the mind; a virus." Herzerts attention turned to the noise of a brug-snat walking aimlessly across the battle-map, obscuring the view of war. He spoke his frustration in his own tongue, as he picked the small scaley creature up.
It hissed as he held it tight, stopping it from escaping his grasp. It writhed and spat as he held it over the Humans shoulder. The man stood tall, trying not to notice the creature dangling over him. Herzert squeezed, and with a squeal the brug-snat spat, soaking the Humans shoulder in bile. He threw it behind him, and listened as it scuttled away. The noise it made painted a mental map, and he could sense where it had moved. If he was wanting to hunt he may have followed, but he didn't want to hunt it down. Instead, he wanted to watch the Humans reaction.
His face was still, his body unmoving. Herzert watched as his uniform smoldered. It broke, revealing flesh, now too smoldering.
"We would play a game when we left the pool. See who could resist the longest. See whose scales were thicker." Herzert said. "The games of fresh spawn."
The Human gritted their teeth. The smoke grew thicker. The smell of burning flesh was a delight. Herzert's stomach fought, requesting he take a bite. He fought the urge to do so, because he could tell that the Human was far too valuable. The Human finally screamed. Guttural, primal, his defiance was all but gone.
"Stop! Please! Make it stop!" He screamed.
"You would not have won such a game, Human." Herzert said, as he wiped at the spit. As he wiped, a layer of skin came off with it. The thick layer of skin clung to his fingers, irritated, he smeared the mess on his jacket. "This world is not made for you. You are too soft. So, why do you come?"
"Each campaign is in the hands of those far above my station!" The Human shouted. Panic in his voice born of pain. "Torture me as much as you like, there is little more I can say."
"Torture?" Herzert whispered. "You think this is torture, Human? This is just a conversation." Herzert grabbed him by the back of the neck, swung him around, and walked out the door.
Herzert maintained a steady pace, regardless of the Humans clumbsy steps. Sometimes he would trip and Herzert would be forced to suspend him in the air until he gained his footing once more.
Through the darkened passage-ways of the cave system they walked, the sounds of screaming could be heard far off in the distance. Occasionally other Triskani would peer out from branching paths to watch as they passed. The bomb blast rumbles would cause dust and debris to spill to the ground. Liquid fell freely, oozing down the walls in places. The Human at one point brushed against the acidic liquid and started complaining. This time, however, Herzert didn't relieve him of it.
Finally they reached an opening, that looked over the breeding pits. A platform spread over the dark casm, and on it, M'Trunda had some of the prisoners lined up.
"It's a crude design, I admit, but it works." Herzert said, as he grabbed the back of the Humans head, forcing him to watch.
One was picked at random, their chains were removed. The prisoner tried to resist, but they were too weak to fight. M'Trunda aimed his rifle. With one shot, a spike penetrated the Humans shoulder. The scream could have moved rock; a beautiful sound. A chain was attached to either end of the spike, and the Human was hoisted off their feet and lower to the darkness below.
"This is what awaits every one of your people we capture; your bodies will feed our war-effort." Herzert said, his words entwined with a backdrop of pain. "You will not suffer this fate though. No, your existence will involve suffering, and if you do not tell me what I want to know, your end will come slow."
Herzert dropped him, watching as they curled into a ball of shaking fear.
"I'll try and help. I'll answer what I can." They said finally. "What do you want to know?"
Herzert could hear quickened steps rushing from behind.
"The assault on the Human base is ready to commence." A Triskani warrior said in their own tongue. The words were a pleasure to the ears and they sounded even better coupled with the look of confusion on the Humans face.
"I will oversee it personally. The Humans must not hold any ground." Herzert said in kind, as he walked past the Triskani warrior, then stopped for a moment. "Prepare an interrogation chamber and put questions to this one."
The Triskani warrior hissed approval, as he rushed to restrain the Human, dragging him to his feet as he got a hold.
