The General’s New Plaything- I

The chamber was cold—sterile, like a machine designed to erase humanity from judgment.

Aria stood in the center of the circular trial hall; her hands bound in a high-energy restraint; head slightly lifted. Not in defiance—oh no, she was past that. This was a game, and she played it well.

Above her, the Trinity sat in their elevated chairs. Their seats formed a semi-circle like gods deciding the fate of an insect.

General Selene, poised and unreadable in the center, flanked by the two storms—Darius, whose fury was a living, breathing thing, and Azneil, who had yet to utter a single word.

To her left, standing rigid in ceremonial armor, was Archon Orlin. A man she had humiliated beyond repair, looking like he was ready to rip her head off. She had pissed off powerful men before, but Orlin? He wasn't even the worst of them. He should get in line.

Then---Holographic projections flickered to life around the room.

A massive screen displayed her captured form from multiple angles—grainy footage of her fight, the exact moment she decked three Kherosi soldiers, smirking as she led the woman into the dark.

Another showed a high-definition 360-degree hologram of her standing there, displaying her vitals, injuries, and even a biometric scan that read her current emotional state: Elevated Heart Rate. Stress Detected. Defiance: Critical Levels.

Aria's eyes flicked to the screen.

For a world with such advanced tech, why the hell were they still using medieval fire torches?

A disembodied voice, the AI Recorder of the Trinity Court, spoke.

"Subject 1107, designation Aria Stark, charged with unlawful interference, assault of three Kherosi soldiers, aiding and abetting a fugitive, and direct defiance of an Archon. Trial initiated under immediate authority. General Selene, as the offended party, holds the primary right to question."

A flicker of hope sparked—Selene was the offended party, and Orlin was her problem. Maybe, just maybe, she'd show some mercy. 

Yeah, right. 

Because guess who was running the show? Darius. Of course, it was Darius. Like hell he'd pass up another chance to ruin her night. Not after he'd had his hands around her throat just hours ago.

"You look oddly silent for someone who thought she was untouchable fifteen minutes ago."

Aria kept her posture straight, but her lips twitched. Oh, how badly he wanted her to beg.

"I thought it'd be rude to interrupt, General. You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

Darius's jaw tensed. Warning Number One.

He shifted slightly, his finger tapping against the armrest of his chair. A warning sign, but Aria was far too comfortable dancing on landmines.

"Why did you do it?"

Aria knew the answer wouldn't satisfy him, so she took a long, measured breath and went with the truth.

"For love."

There it was. The moment of silence. A microsecond where everyone processed the audacity of her words.

Then—Darius laughed. Short, sharp, and entirely humorless.

"Love?" He leaned forward. "Tell me, 1107, did love turn you into a traitor? Did love make you put your hands on my soldiers? Did love make you break protocol?"

Aria tilted her head.

"Love makes people do stupid things. You should know."

Warning Number Two.

Darius's fingers twitched again. His patience? Hanging by a thread.

"Who was the paramour you helped escape?"

"Didn't ask."

A slow, drawn-out pause.

"You risked everything, and you didn't bother to ask her number?"

"I save my introductions for people who stick around."

Beside him, General Selene turned her head to Archon Orlin.

"Archon, did you retrieve the paramour's number?"

Orlin shifted uncomfortably. Even he hadn't bothered to ask.

Selene let out a soft, amused exhale, shaking her head before turning to the commander standing by Aria's side.

"Find her in the records."

The commander nodded and stepped away, his wrist device lighting up as he began scanning the database.

Darius, however, wasn't done with her. His gaze pierced through her like a blade.

"And the man?"

Aria didn't blink. "Never saw him."

"I believe she's lying."

Aria scoffed. "I'm not."

Wrong move.

"You do not speak out of turn." His voice dropped to something lethal. And that was the moment Aria knew—she'd pushed too far.

It was written in the way General Darius's already cold expression turned glacial. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his fingers flexing once before curling into a fist on the armrest of his high seat.

"Commander. Prepare the punishment."

No hesitation. No discussion. Immediate consequences.

The energy cuffs around Aria's wrists unlocked with a sharp hiss, and before she could roll the tension out of her shoulders, a firm hand slammed between her shoulder blades, forcing her down onto her knees.

The commander, the same one who had dragged her in here, stepped forward with a slight furrow in his brow—maybe because just fifteen minutes ago, she had been smirking in his face.

Not anymore.

A second later, a holographic interface materialized before Darius. He flicked his fingers through the translucent blue menu, tapping in commands with disconcerting ease, like he had ordered this exact punishment hundreds of times before.

The AI Recorder's voice rang out:

"Subject 1107. Violation: Speaking out of turn. Defiance in court. Sentence: Fifty lashes."

Fifty.

Aria felt her stomach clench, but her face didn't show it.

She was still in that good-for-nothing dress, leaving her with zero protection. 

A sharp, mechanical sound filled the chamber as the commander retrieved the whip—a long, metallic strand that gleamed under the blue light. It wasn't leather. No, the Kherosi didn't settle for something that merciful.

It was an energy lash—a weapon designed to not only cut skin but to send shockwaves through the nerves, ensuring every strike burned through bone and marrow.

The commander exhaled through his nose. If he had any reservations, he didn't voice them. Instead, he swung.

And the first lash landed.

Aria's vision flashed white.

Pain exploded across her back, a searing line of fire slicing through flesh, muscle, and whatever pride she thought she had left. The shockwave followed immediately after, sending sharp, agonizing tremors through her nerves, stealing her breath before she could even think of taking one.

She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw felt like it would snap.

The second strike came.

Blood splattered onto the pristine floor. Aria felt it trickle down her back, warm and thick, soaking into her waistband.

By the third, her arms buckled, and she hit the ground on all fours, gasping.

Her fingers dug into the floor, her nails scraping against the sleek surface, but she refused to make a sound. Her shoulders shook, her lungs burned, but still, she kept her mouth shut.

She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

The fourth strike.

The pain wasn't dulled—it never dulled. Whoever said you got used to it was a liar. It burned deeper, carving into muscle, every shockwave making her body jerk involuntarily like a puppet with its strings yanked.

By the eleventh, her head was spinning.

Her breath came in ragged, broken exhales. Tears—traitorous, uncontrollable—blurred her vision. She wanted to blink them away, but they fell freely, hot against her already burning skin.

Just one more.

That was her chant. Her only tether to reality.

Just one more.

She bit her tongue hard enough to taste metal.

Another lash.

Just. One. More.

Her consciousness flickered—shifting in and out of focus, like she was staring through shattered glass. The voices around her were muted, her ears ringing too loudly to catch whatever low conversation the Trinity was having.

Then—

"Enough."

Selene's voice cut through the haze like a blade.

The whiplash didn't come again. The absence of pain was almost worse, leaving her body trembling with nothing to brace against.

Aria barely registered the commander stepping back, the whip retracting into its metallic handle.

Blood pooled beneath her, slow-moving streaks of red against sterile white. Her breath shuddered, her arms trembled, as she forced herself to sit back up, spine straight despite the absolute agony that came with the motion.

Selene exhaled sharply, like she hated to witness this kind of punishment firsthand.

She turned to Aria. "1107. This is the last time I intend to know: Why did you do it?"

Aria's throat felt raw. Her lips, cracked. Blood pooled between her teeth.

She lifted her head, blinking past the haze of pain, and let out a breath that burned. Time to roll the dice.

"The woman is expecting."

That changed things.

Even Darius's expression twitched. The Kherosi weren't known for their compassion, but one thing they respected?

A pregnant Terran.