Champions of Terra - Deal with a Dhemon 
 
 
 
 
By 
 
 
 
 
Viola Grace 
 
 
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  
  
Champions of Terra - Deal with a Dhemon 
Copyright © 2006 Viola Grace  
SERIES ISBN: 1-55410-732-6 
Cover art by Angela Waters 
  
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.  
  
Published by eXtasy Books  
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www.extasybooks.com  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I would like to thank Barb for reading everything I shoved at her, and being honest about it. And Silas, without whom writing would not be possible. 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 1 
 
 

he ship coming in is loaded with Rranik warriors. You’re going to have your hands full tonight, Sam.” Moran was cheerful as he watched his friend getting ready for her evening at the Nodak Space Station brothel. Samantha Vorning was a dancer and entertainer of earth extraction. Holograms of her performances were making the station famous and making her quite wealthy. 
“Aw, man. I hate the Rranik laments. Do they have any other requests?” She tucked her auburn hair behind one delicately pointed ear and put in an earring. She eyed the effect in the mirror, then removed it and selected another. 
“The Warrior Laments, as well as any other songs you choose. As long as the laments are first.” Moran averted his eyes quickly as she dropped her clothing in a heap and began to sort through her costumes. Her naked body gleamed in the dim light of the dressing room, her hunter tattoo visible on her thigh, the trident dagger picked out in vibrant metallic hues. 
“Stars Sam! Could you warn me before you do that?” His face turned a funny shade of silvery purple as a flush came over him. 
“Do what? Oh the clothes. Sorry. I forgot.” She reached out and threw a caftan over her golden skin. “You do know that Adal doesn’t care if you see me naked. She knows that we’ve been friends for years.” 
“Yes, she knows that. And I know that, but you’re still an attractive female. I can’t help basic responses.” 
“Yeah, but we were trapped on that mining station for months, you saw all that there was to see. It’s all old territory to you. Plus, we aren‘t even sexually compatible.” She winked at her friend of three years and then continued her search.  “Moran, have you seen the costume armor that the M’dil ambassador sent me? Ah, here it is.” She held up the armored breast plate and grinned. “Perfect. I may insult every Rranik there tonight, or it will be one helluva show.” 
She turned her back to Moran, stepped into a gauzy skirt, and tugged it up to her waist. “Can you get Adal in here to help me with my hair?” She shed the caftan again and put a cropped top on to pad her from the armor. 
“Look how fast I go.” Moran bowed to her and left the room with Sam struggling in the confines of fabric and metal. As he exited the door he reminded her, “And don’t forget to call Negotiator Tyrell as soon as the set is over.” 
“Yes, mother.” 
 
* * * * 
 
One hour later a vision in rainbow silk and silver armor walked out onto the stage at the Nodak Station brothel and entertainment complex. The crowd froze in astonishment. Disapproval came from the audience in a wave. Sam took a deep breath and cued the drums. She began the first of the Warrior’s laments. With a twist. As she chanted about being away from home and fighting wars that were not their own, she began to dance. Her movements speaking clearly of longing and loneliness. 
The crowd was silent. The Laments were normally performed with a soberly dressed performer standing still on the stage, chanting and singing each lament in turn. The sight of her standing there in a parody of the Rranik armor defied all of their traditions. It was shocking. It was titillating. And it was fabulous. 
As she twisted and turned her body in time to the drums, and chanted and sang the laments of an injured warrior on the field of battle, she grinned. Apparently they were not going to lynch her after all. 
With a glow of sweat coating her body she completed her set onstage and then wandered off to the bar, still in costume. 
“So Adal, how do you think I did?” She was gloating now.  
“I think that every whore on the station is busy at this particular moment, and that there will soon be a run on armor for the women. So all in all, pretty good.” Adal’s silvery skin was lit by the dim lights behind the bar, giving her an ethereal appearance.  
Her delicate features were echoes of those of her human friend. She had chosen to be female shortly after meeting Moran, and used Sam’s features as a template as she began her transformation from gender neutral. She bore no jealousy towards Sam, Moran’s best friend and partner hunter for the past three years. They had fought together, been sent to a mining colony to track a slaver together, and been assigned to Nodak together. But the Ontex could only mate and reproduce with their kind. No alien species could possibly take Adal’s place in the mating bond. 
“Do you think I can get another holo deal out of this performance?” Her eyes sparkled. Their moss green depths amused to the core that she had become a star performer. The holos were exceedingly profitable. Her voice and dance recordings were plastered across the galaxy and people paid to look. They were very popular with the crews of deep space vessels. She guessed that all of those belly dance classes she had taken back on earth were finally being given a practical application. She also combined elements of hula and ballet, performing in a natural manner that was moving and graceful. 
“Probably. Heads up, Moran’s trying to get your attention.” Adal jerked her head in a manner she had copied from Sam.  
She turned to face him as he bore down on her location near the bar. “What is it, oh illustrious manager?”  
“You need to do another set. The Rranik are getting restless and demanding more entertainment.” Moran looked harassed.  
“Wow, come to think of it, they have been getting louder.” She looked through the crowded room, noticing the variety of species present. There was an Enjel, obvious by his wingspan, several Wyorans both male and female, Ontex and even a few Azon whose eyes followed her carefully as she moved around the room. Her eyes focused on the large gathering near the stage, and as she watched they began to pound their tankards against the table with a steady beat. 
As she watched, one of the mauve skinned Rranik stood and began to recite one of the laments. The goblin-like creature was off-beat and off key. In a few seconds the other patrons would riot.  
“Oh, holy crap. I’d better get over there.” She strode over to the rear entrance of the stage and took the steps two at a time. She cued up the sound with a few gestures and stepped into the spotlight. 
She was on her third number, the audience rapt with attention when the attack came. She was halfway through a spin when the blast struck her. She flew backward, striking the floor. Pain flowed through her, emanating from her shoulder. Dazed and disoriented she sat up slowly. There was a tangle of bodies at the base of the stage and Moran and Adal running toward her. Sam felt a warm river running down her arm, and looked down to see a trail of crimson snaking its way to the floor. That was the last thing she saw for several hours. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 2 
 
 

edical bays were the same all over the Alliance. Designed to accommodate any number of species, they were extremely utilitarian. Foreign metals were everywhere, diagnostic equipment, and medical devices designed to cater to the needs of aliens from across the galaxy were carefully stored against the walls. 
It was the clean, metal-washed ceiling that Samantha noticed first as her eyes fluttered open. The second thing she noticed was the medical tech that was bustling and clicking around her arm. Several species were unable to speak Alliance common. It did not mean that they were unable to participate in Alliance matters. The C’vil were crablike, short and stocky. They also made excellent physicians. With practice, a well trained medical assistant could learn to speak C’vil. They acted as translators as well as assistants. It was the assistant who addressed her as the doctor made unintelligible sounds as he prodded at her arm. 
“The blaster impact did not go all the way through, but you’ll have limited use of the arm for several days. We’ve used the regenerator on you, but it has only replaced the torn tissue. You’ll have to relearn to use your arm.” He was matter of fact as he passed on the doctor’s diagnosis, then left to attend to another patient the doctor was prodding and clicking at. 
Moran and Adal came into her view. Their faces were relieved, silver skin flushed with concern. The mottled purple under their jaw lines told Sam how worried they had been. 
“Ok guys, what the hell happened?” She scooted up in the bed as best as she could. Not an easy task given that she had no strength in her left arm. 
“You were shot.” Adal’s voice was close to tears. She took a shuddering breath and wiped at her nose, which had begun to run with emotion. 
“It was an assassination attempt. The shooter struck while you were on stage, and hoped to kill you. Fortunately he failed.” Moran held his mate close to him and comforted her with a hand stroking down her back in an endless pattern. 
“I know what happened to me. What happened to the shooter? Did someone see him?” With fumbling fingers she drew the medical gown close to her and started to ease her way off of the exam bed. 
“You could say that. The shooter is dead. He was an Enjel tracker.” 
Oh, so that is what the Enjel had been doing there. “Dead? How?” 
“Your new fans, the Rranik, became incensed when you were shot. They tore the tracker to pieces.” Moran did not seem too choked up about the death of the assailant. In fact he seemed pleased at the way things had turned out. 
“Doctor. May I go?” She raised her voice to be heard over the noise of the bustling medical bay. 
At the flapping of the appendage that passed for a hand and fingers, she hopped onto her feet and was grateful for the support of her friends as they helped her out of medical and to her rooms. 
Her com unit was blinking when she was dropped off at her tiny apartment in the bipedal quarters.  
“Great, the perfect capper to the perfect evening.” She reached over and triggered the communications link that would activate the call previously recorded. 
A metallic voice sounded as an armored faceplate filled the screen. “Samantha Vorning. Please contact me immediately. The matter is urgent. You are in danger. Again.” The screen went blank and Sam leaned back and sighed. 
“No shit.” Grimacing at the numbness in her arm, she punched in the release codes to send the signal to the Alliance satellite. From there it was sent from relay to relay at a speed she couldn’t even imagine. In three minutes, the connection was made on a secure channel and the face plate was back in the screen. 
“Samantha, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” The voice was flat and mechanical. The sentiment was not.  
“Thanks Tyrell, I am happy to see you too.” 
“Based on your pallor, I think you know why I called.” 
“I have a good idea.” 
“Trackers have been deployed. Apparently one of your many fans obtained a DNA sample from one of your costumes and leaked the information to the arena cartel. They’ve put a substantial price on your head. Dead or alive, preferably dead.” Tyrell stopped for a moment to let the information sink in to Samantha’s head. 
“Your involvement in tracking Kyra Dannick and pointing the Alliance to the Arena Station has been exposed. That’s the reason your physical appearance was altered. To hide you. Your public appearances have now made you a target.” 
The faceplate did not offer any indication of amusement. “I’m sorry. I never meant to put myself in danger after all the trouble you went to. I love the changes in my body. I especially like the fangs, oohh, and the pointy ears. I love the pointy ears.” Her grin was infectious, the fangs flashing in the reflection of the screen, but the mask facing her was unmoved. 
“We have to get you somewhere safe, Sam. I have contacted a number of worlds, and found one willing to take you. There are certain strictures in your behavior that will be necessary, but nothing to onerous. The rep from this world will contact you tomorrow. Be ready to leave immediately.” 
“Where are you sending me Tyrell? C’mon, I need to know.” Samantha’s voice was plaintive. 
“That is all I can tell you. Take care Sam, I miss you and want you to be safe. Transmission out.” The screen went black. 
She sat in silence for the better part of an hour, then stood up and looked around her rooms. “Well hell, I had better pack.” 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 3 
 
 

he next morning, only a few hours later actually as she had been in medical for most of the day, she briefed her friends on her travel plans. They were accepting, but concerned. Moran promised to stay by her side until the contact was made and she was escorted from the station. He assigned himself as her bodyguard, and Adal agreed. 
Adal recommended a few items she might like to take with her, as well as copies of her performances on holo disk.  
“They’re what started all this trouble, but what the heck.” She accepted the disks and returned to her room with Moran escorting her, his eyes alert and his body tense. 
She had not been expecting another attack so soon, but Moran had. As two attackers came at them in a frontal assault, one snuck up behind Sam and tried to use a gas canister to knock her out.  
She whirled to confront him as he frantically attempted to get within reach to apply the gas. Her training as one of the Alliance’s best hunters kicked in, and after a few grunting contacts of flesh meeting flesh, he was down for the count. She turned to watch the other battle continuing only a few feet away. Her mouth opened in a hiss, and her fangs gleamed in the overhead lighting of the station as she crouched and prepared to pounce as soon as she saw an opening. 
Moran was faring well against his two attackers until one of them tried to use a nerve gun, Sam darted in just as he fired, and collapsed to the floor screaming. The attacker who had fired the gun ran down the hall, the other was unconscious at Moran’s feet.  
He contacted medical for immediate assistance and wisely kept his distance from her while she fought the impulses that the gun had triggered. Every sensation was too hot, too strong, too loud. All of her nerves had been irritated to their limits and were making their presence known. As bad as it was for her, it would have killed Moran. The Ontex were far more sensitive than humans, physically. 
When the medical team arrived, they used an air lift to transport her. Even that gentle pressure on her skin felt like being caught in a windstorm. 
The doctors on duty consulted, and decided to tank her. All of her clothing was removed. Life support was inserted and muscle relaxants and pain killers would be administered via the IV’s. With a splash and a sigh of relief, she found herself floating in the tank. Her body weight born by the water which was a gentle pressure on her sensitized flesh. Ah, comfortable. 
Four hours later, her ride showed up and he was not impressed by what he saw. She was astonished. Sam had known that much of the mythology of her world was due to alien sightings, the species names becoming garbled over time. The alfar of the Admar, The angels of Enjels—wings and all—and here before her was a demon. Or more precisely a Dhemon. Of the planet Dhema. 
She floated close to the glass of the tank and observed him at length. His hair was black, confined in tight braids that wove tightly against his scalp to fall in metal banded disarray beyond his shoulders. His skin was a fascinating shade of burgundy, and his eyes glowed yellow as they questioned the doctor. He was not happy.  
Sam admired his strong physique, the corded muscle of his neck, leading down into shoulders wide enough to support a chest and arms that looked like they could crush her with one blow. Her gaze roamed lower to take in the columns of his thighs and was relieved to find that his feet were encased in boots and not the hoofs of legend. He did seem to have two tiny horns on his head, however, so she guessed that there had been some truth to the tales of the ancients of humanity. 
Her hands pressed flat against the glass of the tank as she absorbed every detail of the representative of the race she was being hidden in. All-in-all he was an extremely handsome specimen. It would not be too arduous a task to spend time with others of his race, from a strictly observational point of view. 
As the doctor waved his claws to the tank, she jerked back and hid her naked form as best as she could, with tresses of her hair and the blue liquid flowing in gentle currents around her. The dhemon turned to look at her floating in the tank and his scowl deepened. She could see the furious discussion that he held with the doctor, and the doctor’s gesticulating wildly as his assistant tried to translate. 
The dhemon stomped out and Sam relaxed into the tank once again, sleeping as best she could with her body registering the lightest touch, even in the liquid. 
A few hours later Moran arrived to check on her. He activated the speaker and spoke. 
“General Kassil is having a problem with your accommodation. The doctor will not let you out of the tank for three days, and Kassil wants to leave now.” 
She gestured for him to continue. He looked at her in concern. 
“Do you think you will be ok, Sam? I know you took that hit for me, but your species is almost as sensitive as mine to the neural blasts. I still remember the last time you were hit. It took you months to recover.” 
She smiled slightly and wiggled her fingers at him to indicate that she would be fine. 
“Adal has moved your things to the warship. Well, she supervised. The General was very generous with your accommodations on board. You have a lovely suite with a private sanitation chamber. I think he gave you his best VIP quarters, so be nice.” 
She gave him a wicked grin, and nodded to indicate she would be on her best behavior. 
“They are working on the logistics of transporting you in the tank. A contingent from the ship, including the medical officer should be here soon. I have to get back work—there was a riot when your retirement was announced. The place is a mess.” He shook his head and looked mournful. 
“Take care of yourself Sam. Adal and I will really miss you. I want you to contact us as soon as you are settled. I mean it.” He pressed his hand up to the glass. 
She matched it on the other side. They shared a long look, years of friendship and understanding passing between them. Her hand curled into a fist and she gave him the closest thing to a Hunter salute that she could manage while tangled in the web of tubes.  
He straightened and echoed her salute, bowing deeply to indicate respect for a superior. Sam’s face curled into a wistful smile and she waved goodbye as he left her alone in medical. She thought that she may have cried as her friend left, but in the supporting liquid of the tank, who could tell? 
An hour later, a troupe of dhemons walked into medical, and with the help of some of the assistants, disconnected her tank. She was transported through the halls under guard. There were six crew members moving the tank, and twenty guarding it. A crew member that she had to assume was the ship’s doctor jogged alongside her tank, monitoring her vitals and taking notes. 
She was installed in the medical bay within the warship less than an hour after they had removed her from the station. She felt the engines hum as the ship left the docking bay. 
The ship’s doctor was bustling around her tank while they fell away from the station, verifying the umbilical to the ship’s systems. She was unable to talk with the liquid in her lungs, so was left with nothing to do as the engines engaged and they began their journey into deep space. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 4 
 
 

am had nothing to do but sleep and dream. She found that her dreams were unfocused and heated, dreams of strong thighs moving between hers and strong arms holding her close as she climaxed. The dreams shocked her. She had never had dreams that…hot. 
Every time she dreamed she found herself writhing awake, her pulse pounding, and her eyes wide. The first time she dreamed, she woke to the entire medical team circled around her tank, taking measurements and checking her vitals. When she settled down, they walked away, laughing and shaking their heads. After every dream, she came awake to at least one tech standing in front of her, taking notes. 
It was two days later when she finally came out of the tank.  
Three medical techs helped her out of her private sanctuary, hauling her out of the liquid and putting her onto a bed quickly to remove the tubes that had been feeding and breathing for her. 
They worked fast, in a matter of minutes she finished throwing up the tank liquid and had rolled to one side, gasping for air. They forced her to lie flat, and ran diagnostic tools over her for several minutes before the doctor actually spoke to her. 
“You seemed to have recovered from the neural blast, Miss Samantha. There seems to only be a slight exaggeration of your sensitivity to touch and sound. Other than that, I see no reason why you should not make a full recovery.” He looked pleased with himself. She gave him a focused stare. His horns did not seem to have surfaced quite yet, but she could make out the bumps on his forehead, where they should be. 
Samantha tried several times to speak, then was able to croak out, “What about my arm?” 
“Ah, yes. The blaster injury. The tank seems to have done the job in that department as well. You may have some residual weakness, but you should be able to work it out.”  
While she had been in the tank, the techs had looked at her as a patient. Now that she was out of it, they were looking at her with a less than professional interest.  
She flushed slightly as she watched their eyes drift from her auburn hair, down her neck, lingering on her breasts, then down to her narrow waist and full hips. They had distinct looks of masculine appreciation in their eyes.  
She sat up quickly and almost passed out.  
“Do you have anything I can wear?” She kept her gaze fixed on her knees as she asked the question. Nudity didn’t bother her, as long as she felt safe with the person she was naked in front of. Like Adal and Moran. They had no interest in her physically. Therefore, she was perfectly safe in their presence.  
The gazes she was currently receiving were definitely not disinterested. And they in no way made her feel safe. In fact, they made her feel unaccountably warm. She recalled the dreams she had had and her golden skin flushed a hot bronze. One arm came to shield her breasts from their eyes, and she twisted her body away from them as best she could. 
A medical gown was put into her field of view by a strong male hand. Keeping her eyes averted, she shrugged into the clothing. She peeked up from beneath her lashes and found that all of the male techs had found other things to do besides ogle her. Directly in front of her was the General.  
“Doctor Carvio, how is she? Can she be moved from medical?” His voice was flat. He didn’t seem to be interested in the answer but kept glaring at the technicians where they huddled against the walls, pretending to check diagnostic machines.  
“Yes, of course General. I need to see her in a few days, or if she has any other side effects from the neural pulse, as well as give her a final checkup before we planet fall.” The doctor was once again checking his records. “I can send you a copy of her medical records if you wish.” 
“That won’t be necessary. Can she walk?” He seemed impatient, his burgundy skin flushing almost black in the bright lights of the medical bay. 
“You know, you could just ask me that.” Sam swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up on shaking limbs. 
“Ah, you speak Alliance Common, I wasn’t sure.” He shifted his focus to her, and she met his yellow eyes with her moss green orbs. 
“Of course I do.” She took a few steps on trembling legs. “Can I take your arm to the quarters you assigned me?” 
“Of course.” He extended his elbow and she took it gratefully, using him to balance herself. 
“Then we can leave now if you like, that way you can resume your duties without too much interruption in your routine.” Her face was blushing again, but she ignored her embarrassment and gestured for the General to lead the way. 
Slowly, painfully, she made her way through the halls of the warship with hobbling steps. General Kassil kept silent until they reached the VIP quarters. “Here you are. These quarters have a sanitary chamber, and a full wardrobe with clothing suitable to a female of Dhema.” 
“You travel with a wardrobe full of women’s clothing? Weird.” Her attempt at levity fell flat. 
“We knew that you would be accompanying us, clothing was arranged for you.” His voice was stony with disapproval at her little joke. “We travel for seven more days. Be comfortable.” 
The door slid open and Sam started in surprise. Inside there was another dhemon, sort of. Where the techs, the doctor and the general were definitely male, the being inside her new quarters was rather androgynous. Instead of dark burgundy skin, his was a hot pink. His hair was combed straight back from his forehead, leaving his open and earnest expression exposed to the visitors in the doorway. Unlike the other males that she had seen, he—she assumed it was a he—had no sign of horns what-so-ever. 
“This is Etion. He will give you insight into the behavior and deportment expected of a lady of Dhema. He will show you how to dress, how to speak and the appropriate etiquette for any casual occasions.”  
Etion came forward and gave her a formal bow. “A pleasure to serve you Miss Samantha.” 
“Thank you for your escort, General.” She murmured to him as he led her into the room and helped to seat her on the bed.  
“My pleasure, Miss Samantha. I look forward to seeing you at dinner tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of the day.” He gave her a short bow and left the room with dignity and decorum she would have expected to an Alliance General.  
“Well, Etion. I guess it is just you and me.” She gave him a falsely cheerful smile. “What do we do first?” 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 5 
 
 

ell, Miss Samantha, the first thing we need to do is get you out of that medical gown and into something more suitable to a lady.” He walked over to the wardrobe and began to haul out armfuls of fabric.  
Etion held up a chemise that was as concealing as a cobweb. “Ok, Miss Samantha, this is the first thing you put on in the morning. It keeps the more restrictive clothing off of your skin and makes it easier to clean.” 
“Alright,” She took off the medical gown and quickly reached for the chemise, slipping it over her head. “Why do you insist on calling me Miss Samantha? Sam is fine.” 
“All unmarried women are addressed as Miss. After you marry, you are addressed as Lady.” Etion came over and helped her to stand. The chemise fell to her ankles.  
“What if a woman chooses not to be married?” She sat back down and waited for the next piece of clothing. 
“She is addressed as Miss for her entire life. A Lady wears the bracelets given to her when she weds.” He added as an aside while he held up the next item of clothing. A corset. 
Samantha almost laughed aloud. She loved wearing corsets, the feeling of tight support holding her breasts at an unlikely angle, the warmth and security of the fabric. It was a reminder of home. 
She helped him snug the fabric around her and held onto the edge of the wardrobe as he began to tighten the stays. She felt slightly out of breath when he finished, but the familiar feel of the corset gave her comfort. She had not been able to locate one since leaving earth, and had not thought to bring one with her when she left. 
The petticoats went on with her simply stepping into the circle of fabric and Etion raising them to tie them around her hips. It was at this point that she got up the courage to ask. “So Etion, why do you look so different from the rest of the crew on board?”  
“I did wonder if you would be able to constrain your curiosity.” He smiled as he drew a blouse out of the wardrobe. “On Dhema there are three sexes. Male, female, and nyal. I have read your planetary history and I know that yours have only two sexes for most species.” 
“So you are nyal? Is that like some sort of hermaphrodite?” At this point she gave up trying to help him, and just balanced with her arms outstretched for him to dress her. 
“Yes. We nyal are a one in five birth. We are completely sterile, and as far as our scientists can tell, it is merely an evolutionary method of birth control.” 
“But are you happy? Can you take lovers?” Her mouth got ahead of her common sense. She once again blushed to the roots of her auburn hair. 
Etion stopped for a moment then began to laugh. He drew his hands away from the buttons on her skirt, and chuckled to himself for several moments.  
With him lost in mirth, she had no choice but to resume dressing herself. Sigh. The buttons on her jacket were almost done when Etion stopped his little jaunt into happy land. 
“You know, I have met thirty four species and you are the first one to ask me that.” 
He brushed her hands aside and re-buttoned her jacket properly. He then met her sober gaze with eyes a soft and mellow blue. “Nyal do take lovers, other nyal for instance. And occasionally a male of either our species or another.” 
“Not females?” 
“No, our systems are not capable of becoming lovers with a female. That is why we are found in the occupations as dressers, hairstylists, makeup personnel for special occasions. The men of Dhema are very possessive of their females. Even another female who may catch the eye of a wife or daughter is not welcomed into a household without a nyal present to supervise interactions.” 
“Wow, the best and worst of both worlds.” She stretched her limbs to determine the distance she could comfortably move her body. Not very far. The clothing was rather restricting.  
“Miss Samantha, please be seated and I’ll tend to your hair.” Etion gestured for her to have a seat at the stool in front of the tiny makeup mirror. 
Thirty minutes later Etion pronounced her finished. She stood and walked in front of the full length mirror on the far wall, she turned slowly to take in her reflection. 
“Oh, my god.” Her jaw fell open at the sight before her.  
She was wearing enough fabric to smother a Victorian maiden. The corset drew her already small waist to a tiny reflection of its usual size. The snug blouse and jacket highlighted the ample expanse of her bosom, while their high collars emphasized her delicate neck and jaw. Her hair was in a classic twist that highlighted her cheekbones and made her eyes gleam. 
The skirt swept the floor behind her, the layers of petticoats keeping any possible glimpse of her legs from the eyes of any passing males. She lifted the hem of the skirt ever so slightly and took in the sight of her feet incased in snug leather boots. 
She took a few experimental steps. It was like walking underwater, or with weights attached to her hips, and straps around her ribs. 
“All of your females dress like this?” At Etion’s encouraging nod, she took a few more steps and swept the skirt out of her way as she turned and tried again. 
“You look wonderful Miss Samantha. Every male on board will be suitably impressed. Now we only have to teach you to eat like a lady.” Etion was practically dancing with the change in her appearance. 
“I eat like I’m hungry. Ladies are never hungry, from what I hear.” Sam was slightly perturbed that he was picking on her eating habits. He must have spoken to someone at the station, her appetite was legendary. 
“Oh, they get hungry, but they eat in a delicate and proper manner while maintaining dignity and grace. That is a skill you desperately need to learn.” Etion was brutal, but unfortunately accurate in his assessment. She did tend to eat like they were going to take her food away. 
She thought about it for a moment, and felt that she could include this in her attempts to fit in to Dhema culture. Not that much food would fit into her stomach with the corset laced around her, anyway. She did have to admit however, that her posture was terrific. 
A few hours later Etion looked extremely harassed. His unending attempts to curb her appetite had been thwarted. She giggled at his defeated expression. 
“Look, Etion. Why don’t we try again tomorrow after I have tried to dress myself again? You look exhausted.” She had some sympathy for him. After all, he had been at this all day. 
“Do you think I can get out of these clothes myself?” She arched one of her brows at him. 
“Yes, I believe that you can, but please, hang them up after you take them off. Your nightgown is in that drawer over there.” He gestured off to the bureau beside the mirror. 
She saw him to the door, and didn’t let him know that she never slept with a nightgown. In fact, she rarely slept with covers on. She found the sheets smothering. 
Her skin was already chafing at the press of fabric on her body after three days in the tank. It was both sensual and irritating to be wrapped in clothing from neck to toes. 
Her feeble fingers fought the buttons on her jacket. She seemed to be unable to undress herself after all. After several minutes of frustrated trying, she gave up. Her jacket had been removed and dutifully hung up. The rest of the tiny buttons were beyond her capabilities. 
She dropped onto her bed, exhausted and unsure of what to do now. 
When the door chimed that someone wanted admittance, she merely yelled, “C’mon in,” and flopped back onto the bed. 
When she saw her visitor she struggled to sit up and take up a more decorous pose. There was a distinct moment of flailing, but she managed. 
“General Kassil, this is an unexpected visit.” Finally, she got herself to the edge of the bed, and sat with her knees together and her hands in her lap, just like Etion had shown her. 
“Miss Samantha, I saw Etion in the hall, looking the worse for wear. I felt that I should check on you as well. May I add that you look lovely in that clothing?” A smile danced around his full lips. Considering that every other time he had seen her she had been stark naked, his complement was kind of funny. 
She flushed a hot bronze “Unfortunately, I think I was a little hard on Etion. I had no idea that your clothing was so complicated.” 
“Only the female’s clothing. The men get to wear loose trousers, a belt, loose shirts and boots. Occasionally with cloaks.” 
“Hey, no fair! I am wearing enough fabric to smother a Binat.” She gestured to the layers of fabric and he laughed. 
“I know, but you’ll be living among us, and adhering to our traditions and customs. The clothing suits you, however. You do look lovely in it.” His eyes heated and swept her from tip to toes. 
“Well, I am probably going to look good in it for quite some time. I can’t get out of it.” She laughed at the expression on his face as he realized that she was serious. 
“You seriously can’t undo the clothing?” He was both appalled and amused. 
“I am still a little uncoordinated from the time in the tank and the blaster injury. I‘ll just sleep in it and get Etion to help me in the morning.” She shrugged her acceptance to the situation. 
“Stand up.” His voice was harsh. She looked at his face and all semblance of humor was gone. 
She stood up and walked over to him. In astonishment, she watched his hands dissolve the difficult clasps and buttons and in seconds she was down to her corset and chemise. She grabbed his hands when he reached for her corset.  
“Thanks I can take it from here, General.” Her fingers felt cold against the calloused heat of his hands. 
“I would think you would be used to men stripping you.” The ice dripped from every word. 
She was in shock. “What? Why would you think that?” The savage derision burning from his eyes was a sudden changed from his earlier levity. 
“You were working at the station brothel, I am sure you were quite popular. You are, after all, an extremely attractive female.” His hands cupped her breasts over the edge of the corset.  
Heat flared from her flesh where he was gently caressing her, then, shock reeled through her. She stepped out of his reach and put distance between them. He thought she was a whore. She almost burst into hysterical laughter. A whore. She was still a virgin. She had never been tempted enough to make herself that vulnerable. 
Obviously, General Kassil did not believe that was the case. He had been told to contact her at the brothel, so she must be a whore. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 6 
 
 

he was babbling and backing away from him, clutching her hands over her breasts in defense. “Ok, I can handle the rest of this, you can go. Thanks for the help. I believe you mentioned dinner tomorrow. I need to sleep now. To get ready for tomorrow.”  
“I don’t mind your past, but keep in mind you will be mingling with women of unquestionable character on Dhema. You will be expected to act accordingly.” 
He swung around and walked out the door, as fury began to roar through her. 
What a snob. He had made an assumption about her sexual status, based on her place of work. How rude could you be?  
Her hands released the busk with a sharp push, and the corset peeled off of her to flop onto the bed. The chemise was next to go. She wandered to the door, naked, and secured the lock from all except Etion. None of this uninvited guest thing again. 
She flung herself onto the bed, pounded the pillow a few times, and fell into an enraged sleep.  
Sam dreamed of kicking the general right where it hurt, but unfortunately he recovered and pinned her to the floor. She wasn’t wearing clothing, and he wasn’t wearing clothing, his flesh was so hot that it scorched her where their bodies met. 
She came awake with a gasp, her heart pounding in her chest. “Argh!” She pounded her fist into the pillows and flipped onto her stomach. Why did it have to be him?  
For the last three days, since she first saw him, Kassil had factored heavily in her fantasies. She had no idea why it was him and not one of the oh-so-attractive techs from medical. She had had far more exposure to them than the General, literally. 
The dhemons had a musky scent that she found irresistible. Pheromones being common to several species in the Alliance, she was not surprised to find out that the dhemon males would have an attraction mechanism. Not that they needed it. By bipedal-humanoid standards, they were deadly attractive. 
“Damn.” Blanking her mind carefully, she tried to get some more sleep. Mercifully, if she dreamed again, she did not remember it. 
Across the ship in his quarters, Kassil sat up sweating, with an erection that was pounding with the need for release. 
“Damn.” He shook his head to clear it, trying to get the blood back into his brain. Why was he dreaming of the Terran? She was an unchaste woman. She worked in a brothel for stars sake. Who knew how many males she had invited between her thighs?  
But still, the dreams persisted. Every night since he had first met her, he had found his mind inventing the most delectable torments to inflict on his phantom bed partner. In his dreams, she was the most responsive female he had ever had, arching to his every touch. The first few dreams that he had, when she was ensconced in the tank, were extremely hot. He had imagined her skin to be warm and smooth, the reality was much softer and cooler than he had dreamed. His hands fisted against his thighs as he wondered how many men had touched her breasts, and smelled her delicate scent. Flowers, musk, and female, it was a combination to send his senses spinning. It was the reason that he had returned to her quarters before he retired for the evening. What a disaster! 
She had seemed shocked at his interest, clearly detailing that the attraction went only one way. He shook his head again and tried to throw off the arousal that he had woken with. Getting up, pacing, and then tugging on his uniform he decided to go his office near the bridge and work off his tension with filing documents regarding his retirement.  
He had been in service to the Alliance for twenty years. He had joined at his maturity, as did the majority of the males of his people. It was a matter of a contract that his people had formed when they joined the Alliance centuries before. Manning warships was the occupation most suited to his species, they fought against the raiders and species that preyed on the citizens of the Alliance of Planets. 
With his duty to his planet done, it was time to return home and start a family. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 7 
 
 

am awoke feeling refreshed, though anger still simmered in her when she thought about the liberties that General Kassil had taken with her person, then stopped and laughed at herself. She was acting like the Victorian maiden she was dressing as, not a modern woman who had simply chosen not to take a lover quite yet. Not that she hadn’t had the opportunity, even before working at the brothel. It was just not something she wanted to expose herself to. The messiness of sex did not appeal to her, all those bodily fluids flying about. She liked an orgasm as much as the next person, probably more than most, but part of her still thought of it as something that she wanted to share with someone she wanted to get messy with, not something to be taken on casually. A devilish smile curved her lips. She had always been a do-it-yourselfer. 
She got to her feet and tossed on the chemise, then began to lace up her corset. It was not quite as tight as Etion had made it the night before, but she was able to button her blouse over it. The layers went on quite easily, the trembling fingers of the previous evening forgotten after her restoring sleep. 
When Etion came through the door, she was sitting decorously on the chair next to the dressing table, trying to pin her hair up once again. 
“Let me help you with that.” He moved behind her and met her grateful eyes in the mirror. With economical movements he pinned her hair up in a graceful twist. Then stood back to admire the job she had done on the rest of her form. 
“You obviously can dress yourself, your hair is fixed, and you know the rudiments of eating gracefully, so why don’t we get breakfast in the mess hall this morning. Followed by a tour of the ship. I don’t think you saw that much of it when you were loaded on in the tank.” He grinned at her in the silvered glass. 
“That sounds great, are you sure that the General won’t mind me wandering around the ship?” Her eyes twinkled at the thought of the General’s reaction when he found out. He would most likely be appalled at having a whore roaming the halls of his precious ship. 
“Of course not, you are an honored guest.” He sweeps over to the door and gives her a dramatic bow. The door opened with a hiss. “After you.” 
“Thank you.” She followed his lead out into the hall, her skirt dragging lightly across the ground in her wake. She took his arm and lets him escort her to the mess hall. 
As they pass people in the halls, they note that they are drawing attention from the all-male crew. A whisper of interest and amazement follows them in a wave. 
Etion escorted her to a seat in the hall, and went to get her some food. She felt eyes on her and studiously took up a demure pose. It was only moments before Etion returned with her breakfast. In that time, she felt that every eye in the ship had roamed over her body in appreciation. 
“Are you sure that we should be here? I can’t help but notice that we are drawing a lot of attention.” She glanced around casually, then daintily applied herself to her breakfast. 
“That was the idea. To get you out of your quarters and socializing amongst the crew.” His smile was infectious and she grinned in return then went back to the strange objects on her plate. “ You’re doing quite well with your food this morning.”  
“I’m trying. I was a little shaky last night at dinner.” Her eyes widened as she looked over Etion’s shoulder. “Holy crap.” 
“What?” He turned to look and was greeted by a scowl that could have turned a lesser being to stone. 
“Oh, good morning General Kassil. I was not expecting you to be eating in the hall this morning.” He rose from his seat and executed a bow. 
“I had not intended to be, but a report reached me of your presence here, and I came to invite Miss Samantha to eat with me. To spare the ship further disruption.” He seemed perturbed and impatient. “Etion, bring her tray, to the officer’s dining hall.” 
He held out his arm and Sam had no choice but to take it. Standing next to him, she felt tiny for the first time in a long time. His long strides make it hard for her to keep up with him in the heavy skirts, but she managed. 
The officer’s mess was empty, which Sam found suspicious. There should have been people there. Something in her knew it had been cleared out for her sake. 
He held out a chair for her and she sat as decorously as possible. She then felt it fair to warn him, “I have not mastered the dainty eating habits of your females. But I’m trying.” 
He seemed reluctantly amused at this, and told her, “You still have days to learn our ways, I’m sure that you will adjust.” 
Etion arrived with her food and set it out before her. “She tried to remember the rules from the night before, but they had faded with her stupor.” As Sam attempted to use the implements with dignity, the General made no attempts to ignore her and ended up laughing throughout the entire meal. She finished her food before he did, and began to look around the room. 
“What is that?” A game board stood near one wall with two chairs facing each other. Brightly colored playing pieces were displayed on the board. 
“A game of strategy, called Mintag. You have fifty moves to outwit your opponent, or you lose. It is a complicated game, only played by the men of our kind. It is thought that no female could grasp the ideas. They lack the concentration.” 
“Could you try to teach me?” 
She had to wait while he finished sputtering and choking. 
“It has not been done.” His breath came in with a wheeze. “You could not master it.” 
“I used to be quite good a strategy games, I passed hunter training. And survived in that occupation for several years. I would like to try.” 
He watched her silently for a few minutes. His face completely immobile. 
“Hunter training?” He paused for a few moments, thinking. “Alright, I’ll try to teach you. But in the evenings, in my private quarters, after dinner. Not here. The scandal would give me a headache.” 
“Agreed. You will begin to teach me after dinner.”  
The deal with the Dhemon was struck. 
For the first few evenings, Sam had fun. She had a talent for the game, although she was not looking far enough ahead, she did not lose by much.  
Kassil used the opportunity to learn more about her. He asked her about her work on the station, and she told him. She performed for large groups of men, songs from a hundred worlds. Driving them to lust, to increase the profits of the brothel. It had been an extremely successful idea He asked her why she was being exiled, and she told him of the price on her head and the attempts on her life.  
She told him of her species, and the specific modifications that had been made to her in an effort to hide her. Pigments increased in her skin to defend her from higher UV rays, the pointed ears that were cosmetic and the teeth that were her last line of defense. 
Days passed with Etion and the etiquette lessons, and evenings were spent learning Mintag. She was getting pretty good when everything changed on the sixth day.  
She had been thwarted in her pursuit of an orgasm earlier that day, when Etion had burst into her quarters to find her splayed on her back with one hand tucked between her thighs, fingers rotating around her clit.  
When he had finished laughing at her expression, he hustled her into the shower and got her ready for her dinner date. Kassil was perplexed by Etion’s good mood, and Sam’s grim one. He dismissed her escort and they sat down to eat, followed by the lessons as they had for the last week. 
One moment they were arguing about the legality of her last move on the board, and the next she was in his arms. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 8 
 
 

is mouth parted hers, his tongue thrusting inside, past her fangs to toy with her own. She moaned and arched her body into his, feeling his arousal pressing against her belly. Her hips rubbed against him, and his grip on her shoulders tightened painfully.  
Sam’s fingers fumbled with the fastenings on his uniform, and he impatiently took her hands away to strip himself.  
As the muscles of his chest came into view, Sam took a gulping breath. Oh, wow. His physiology was slightly different than a human male’s, but really, really impressive. Bands of muscle wrapped around his torso and lead to his abdomen. The flat plane of his belly drew her gaze, and she blushed furiously as his uniform trousers dropped to the floor. His cock stood at attention, a bead of precum on the tip of the dark and pulsing flesh. She was not an expert at male anatomy, but he seemed to be a particularly impressive specimen. She swallowed nervously. 
She felt a wetness slicking the juncture of her thighs and her skin turned a furious bronze as she blushed to the roots of her…well, everything. 
He stepped forward to take care of her clothing and she stepped back out of reflex, her eyes on his member as it advanced. She heard a chuckle from above her and jerked her chin up to meet his amused gaze. His yellow eyes held her motionless as he reached out to caress her jaw, her neck. Then, his fingers nudged aside the collar of her blouse. 
The clothing that she wrestled herself into every morning fell like autumn leaves, drifting to the floor in a bright silken heap. When she was down to the corset and chemise, he hummed with delight as her nipples were outlined against the gossamer fabric. 
She shuddered and gasped as his hands cupped her breasts where they edged out of the corset, kneading gently. His thumb and forefinger tugged softly at her nipples and her eyes closed as she surrendered to his hands.  
Sam’s breath came faster, her chest rising and falling, thrusting her breasts farther into his hands. She finally opened her eyes and found him watching her face with rapt attention. As she faced him with stunned amazement prevalent in her expression, he drew her into his arms once again for a kiss.  
His lips trailed from her mouth, down her jaw line, to the delicate column of her throat, where he gnawed at the cords of her neck. As his teeth closed on her, her legs buckled and she went limp in his arms. 
Her corset fell away and her chemise was pushed off of her shoulders and down to her hips, snagging for a moment before sliding to the floor with a whisper. 
The room spun around her as she was lifted from a standing position, to find herself flat on her back in his bed. One knee raised in reflex as he came down next to her, making no move to cover her with his body. She was trembling. Partially in excitement, and partially in terror. This was it. There was no stopping now. 
Kassil traced one calloused finger from her forehead, down her nose, caressing her lips, teasing her neck, winding a path of heat wherever he touched. Hot, moist breath hissed through her lips. His finger teased one breast at a time, then trailed to mark her ribs, it swirled around her navel and she heard that dark chuckle again as her stomach sucked in violent response to the sensation. 
Her back arched as the teasing finger continued down past her belly and trailed through the tangle of hair that guarded her secrets. Her chest was heaving violently as his finger touched on the delicate tissue that had been thwarted earlier. Her green gaze met his knowledge-filled eyes as he pressed and twisted his appendage on the bud at the top of her sex. She watched him helplessly as her body went over the edge, her eyes going blind with pleasure. 
The next thing she was aware of was his body, heavy and covering hers. His legs moving between hers, parting her slick thighs with his straining flesh. She felt the head of his cock nudging at her folds, using her moisture to ease his way as he lodged in her entrance. One of his hands fisted in her hair and pulled her head back. 
“Look at me. I want your eyes on me as I fuck you.” His words were crude, but the feeling of him entering her was indescribable. She watched his face grow distant with sensation as his hips drew back, and then he was thrusting forward, parting her maidenhead and sliding home within the tightness of her unused passage. 
She shrieked, pain radiating from her as she felt the hardness of a man within her for the first time. Her hands pushed at his shoulders and tears ran from her eyes as her hips fought to dislodge him.  
“Shh, shh, relax. It will be better soon, shh.” His voice washed over her as she fought the pain. He had stopped moving as she began to fight, and was dropping soft kisses on her face and neck to calm her. 
She tried to control her breathing, her sobs tapering off as tears leaked from her eyes. She still hurt, but it was becoming bearable.  
He thrust slowly, gliding back and forth within her, and although the pain was still there, the pleasure was making itself known once again. Her knees fell further apart and he went even deeper within her. His cock moved within her slowly, until she began to sigh and moan once again. Then, he plunged deep. His hips driving him as far within her as he could. Merging their bodies until she could not tell where he left off and she began. 
Her second climax caught her completely by surprise. She moaned as the waves of release came over her. Pulsing deep, milking his cock with her internal contractions. He froze above her and shuddered as the added stimulation shoved him into his own orgasm. 
“Fuck!” He drove his shaft in her to his balls and emptied them into her welcoming belly. He groaned and shook as his seed spilled into her. She took his weight onto her as he collapsed in release. The musk she was enveloped in was a combination of the smell of her own body, combined with his scent. It was a heady mix. 
He rolled off to the side and dropped onto the bed next to her. She closed her eyes and felt the tugging between her thighs, and the burning remnants from the torn tissues of her first time. She closed her thighs with deliberate slowness. She had been right about the messiness, but oddly, she didn’t really mind all that much right now as the remains of his climax began to ooze out of her and onto the bed.  
Sam looked over at Kassil. His eyes were closed, and sweat was slowly drying on his body. She didn’t know what to do now. She began to sit up and was stopped halfway out of bed by a masculine hand. 
“Where do you think you are going?” He flipped her onto her back and threw one on his thighs over hers to keep her in place. 
“I … assumed you were done with me. I thought I should go.” Her voice trembled with uncertainty.  
“You are not going to leave this bed until you explain what just happened here.” One of his brows arched in query. 
“Ummm, I thought we had sex. If your people call it something else, I don’t know what it is.” She shrugged, her skin had resumed its normal tone. She only hoped that her blush has run its course. 
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that was your first time.” He seemed certain of that fact, and she gathered all of her skills to deliberately mislead him. 
“No, I am afraid not. It is a peculiarity of my species. I know it must have seemed like it from your perspective, but it was not.” 
“If you insist. Your species must not reproduce often, if the females bleed and experience pain every time.” 
Her face heated once again, and she squirmed in discomfort. Damn, he had noticed. The majority of her friends that she had polled about sex and men had claimed that the vast majority of men would not notice a little thing like breaking her hymen. With her usual luck, she had hooked up with one of the small percentage who took note of details. Mind you, she had screamed in pain, cried and tried to push him off of her, perhaps that had tipped him off. 
“I need to clean up.” She struggled to rise from the bed, and he easily kept her pinned to the sheets. 
“Are you sure that you were not a virgin?” He seemed to want confirmation for some reason. 
“Positive, you were just a little too large for me that first time. Dhemons are built slightly different than Terrans.” Her face was completely expressionless. She hoped that he fell for it. His being obligated to her because he had taken her innocence was not something she wanted to encourage. From what Etion had told her, premarital relations with a virgin was frowned upon on Dhema, and usually resulted in a sudden marriage. 
“Well, then we’ll just have to try again.” His lips began to taunt hers as his fingers stroked between her thighs and slid into her. She arched at his penetration, partially in response to the heat he had begun to generate once again, and partially due to the raw soreness that flared at the contact. When the liquid heat had begun to flow from her once again he moved between her thighs and pushed the angry head of his cock into her depths, parting her and making a haven for itself inside. 
The pleasure soon drove off the pain, and she moaned and arched against him as his fingers stroked her clit in time to his thrusts. Time passed, he drove her higher than she had imagined she could go. The coil of arousal had wound to an unbearable tension. Her head rocked from side to side as she fought to escape the pleasure as he drove within her. She seemed unable to reach a climax and was almost weeping in frustration. 
There was a sheen of sweat on Kassil’s flesh, his skin glowing with his exertions, a cruel and distant look on his face as he plunged and rocked into her. His head dipped suddenly and his teeth found the side of her neck again, this time breaking the skin, as the hard thrust of his cock caused her spine to bow and lift her from the bed. She squealed. It was not a noise she had ever heard from her own throat. With that sudden move, her climax dropped upon her, shaking every muscle to the core, leaving her limp with the pulsing of her release flowing through her. 
He snarled and began to shake with tension, and his shaft spurted it’s contents into her as his own climax was once again triggered by hers. 
He fell to the bed beside her, cuddled her against him and was sleeping in a matter of moments. Samantha was not far behind. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 9 
 
 

he next day was her final trip to medical for her customs checkup. She snuck out of Kassil’s quarters the moment she woke up, and tiptoed down the hall to her own rooms. Spending several careful minutes in the sanitation chamber, she cleaned off the evidence of the night’s activities. Washing off the sweat and blood, carefully cleaning the teeth marks on her neck that Kassil had left behind. As she dressed, she gave a sigh of relief at the sight of the high collar of her blouse and jacket covering the marks and bruises. 
By the time Etion arrived, she had run her clothing of the night before through the cleanser, and was sitting attentively in front of the record station. Learning basic phrases in the Dhema common language. There were, of course, many dialects, but Dhema had come together to use one common language for the purposes of trade and treaties. 
He paused as he came into the room, sniffing the air slightly, a puzzled frown coming over his features. “Was there someone here last night, Sam?” 
“No, Etion. Why do you ask?” Well, it was the truth. She kept her expression bland and curious. 
“I thought I smelled… never mind. Are you ready for your last trip to medical before we land?” 
“You betcha. Let’s go.” Sam stood and smoothed down the heavy silks of her skirt. She straightened her shoulders and walked out the door and into the hallway. 
Doctor Carvio was brusque and thorough. The scanners registered her health and well being. As the results scrolled across the monitor in Dhemon, the doctor frowned. He moved the scanner over her pelvis once again and double checked his results. He gave her a searching look. 
“We need to use the immersion scanner this time, Miss Samantha. Please move into the chamber.” He nodded to the scanner door, tucked against one wall, and she walked into it, clothing and all. 
A minute later, the doctor pronounced her fit and suitable for transplant to Dhema. He dismissed her and suggested she get some rest. She seemed tired. 
“Etion, I need to speak with you before you go.” The doctor called to her escort as they began to leave the medical bay. 
“Go back to your quarters Sam, I‘ll catch up with you soon. You might want to start packing.” Etion gave her a wink and began to speak to the doctor in hushed tones. 
Sam walked through the halls, ignoring the interested stares of the crew. This was the first time she had been left alone on the ship, and she had an idea why. The medical scans must have revealed her new sexual status, and Etion was being quizzed as to the possible culprit. 
She frowned and slapped the coded lock on her door. Once inside, she began to pack the dozens of outfits that she had been provided with. Suddenly, the landing claxon went off. 
They were early. She had not expected planet fall until after lunch. She scooted over and flipped down the landing seat, strapping herself in and waiting for the claxon to go mute, signaling their successful entrance into the atmosphere with silence. Planet fall took close to an hour on most Alliance planets. 
The rest of the landing went by seamlessly. When they had thudded to a halt, Sam undid her restraints and stretched her arms over her head. She waited for someone to come for her, and continued to stretch as she walked around her quarters. It was in this less than ladylike pose that Etion caught her in when he walked into the room. 
“That is possibly the most distressing pose I have seen you in yet, although the time you were on your knees under the bed was a close second.” He smiled with anticipation. “Are you ready to see your new world?” 
She dragged in a shaky breath, “As ready as I can be. Staying on the ship is not really an option.” 
“Then let’s go.” 
The halls of the ship were empty for the first time since she had come aboard. All of the crew must have cleared out as soon as they touched down. She didn’t blame them. 
The main docking hatch was wide open, letting golden sunlight into the ship. She walked carefully toward the light, breathing in the air of Dhema for the first time. 
Outside, there was a concrete landing pad. She could see crew members walking away in the distance and had her earlier assumption confirmed. Her fingers clenched on Etion’s arm as she saw a private shuttle waiting for something on the tarmac. 
Etion took the lead and shoved her into the shuttle. Seconds later, they were in the air of the new planet and whipping only meters above the ocean.  
She observed the sky, taking in a slightly purpler tint to the heavens than was visible back on earth. The cliffs that they passed had a distinct reddish cast, echoed in the grains being grown in fields just beyond the oceanic vista. 
Her hands were shaking with tension. She hoped that her invitation to the ambassador’s house was still valid. 
The shuttle flew for an hour and then came down in a wide courtyard. The door hissed open and Etion once again took her hand and tugged her out. A couple with a young daughter waited on the steps at the entrance to the house. 
Samantha was stunned at the beauty of her hosts. The ambassador’s wife was breathtaking, a perfect specimen of Dheman femininity. Her skin was the purplish hue of the sky, silver eyes gleaming under clear winged brows her black hair gleaming in the afternoon sun. She was no taller than Sam, which surprised her, based on the height of the men, she had expected the women to be quite a bit taller than Terran women. 
Her husband by contrast, was just as masculine as his wife was feminine. His skin was the color of blued steel, black horns rising a few inches out of his skull. His eyes were black, no light escaped from those orbs. He stood lightly on the step, with his little daughter in his arms. 
She was his miniature in coloring, but her mother’s mirror in feature. Her tiny, pouting mouth, played host to her thumb. 
Samantha gave her a warm smile, comforted in the similarities of human children to this little Dhemon. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
“Ambassador Valnal, Lady Safra, this is Samantha Vorning. Late of the Alliance protectorate of Terra.” Etion executed a bow for all of the members of the introduction. 
“Thank you Etion. Samantha, this way please.” With nary a turn of expression from the bland interest that had marked her face as Sam approached, Safra led her into the cool darkness of the house. 
Samantha did not know what to do, but Etion’s hand on her back pushing her into the house gave her an idea. She followed in silence, marking the pillars in her mind, drawing herself a map that would let her navigate on her own. The architecture was fantastic.  
Safra led her to her new chambers, opening the door and standing aside. “Your luggage will arrive in a few hours. Please, be welcome, this is now your home.” A polite smile that did not reach her eyes drifted across her perfect features. 
“You will be called for dinner in four hours. I will give you a tour of the house and grounds afterwards.” Safra closed the door behind her and left Sam alone. 
The room was beautiful. The same soaring pillars that marked the rest of the house made an appearance in her bedchamber. It was decorated in blues and creams, but the most spectacular feature was a window that looked out on the ocean. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 10 
 
 

he could see for miles. It was the first time she had been on a planet similar to earth in five years, and homesickness overwhelmed her. She stood, staring out the open floor to ceiling window, for hours. Welcoming the breeze on her face, and ignoring the tears tracking onto her clothing. She was brought out of her reverie by a tiny hand tugging on her skirt. 
“Oh, hello little one. How did you get in here?” She spoke slowly in Dhemon common and was relieved when the little girl pointed out the window to the balcony wrapping around the house. 
“I’m Shalin.” Her clear little voice spoke Alliance common, and Sam was relieved for a second time. 
“I’m Samantha, but you can call me Sam.” She extended her hand for the formal greeting and was almost rocked off of her feet when the little body slammed against her in a hug.  
She patted Shalin’s shoulder and smiled when the little girl looked up at her again. 
“You don’t look like us. You are a really neat color. What are you?” Her curiosity was refreshing and Sam walked over to a long couch and sat down. She patted the seat next to her and the little girl hopped up and watched her with rapt attention. 
Sam explained about her race, her species, and her world. She talked of all of the planets she had seen, and how she had never seen a race like the Dhemon before, but that her people had stories of such, from thousands of years before. 
Occasionally during her recitation, Shalin’s face grew puzzled and Sam stopped to explain the unfamiliar terms. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and it swung open. 
Safra stood in the doorway. “Shalin, what are you doing in here? I hope she wasn’t bothering you Samantha.” There was a warmth in her features when she met Sam’s eyes that had not been there that afternoon. Most curious. 
“No, of course not. She is delightful, and a great listener.” Sam smiled at Shalin and was rewarded by her beaming grin. 
“It’s time for dinner. Are you ready?” 
“For food. Definitely.” She walked beside Safra and listened to her describing the layout of her home. Shalin walked beside them, and soon Sam felt a tiny hand gripping hers. They walked into the dining hall and Shalin left her to scamper up to her father. 
“I hope that you enjoy your chambers Miss Samantha. Safra has been working on them based on your color preferences for the last three weeks.” His voice was deep and rich, flowing through the room and washing over them. 
“Thank you Lady Safra. It was most kind of you to go to all that trouble.” Sam was amazed. She had not known three weeks before that she would be coming here, how did they? 
“It was no trouble. It was the least I could do after what Negotiator Tyrell did for Dhema.” She flushed prettily and took a seat next to her husband. He reached out to pat her hand. 
“Did you say Tyrell?” A servant pulled the chair out for her and she sat in the manner she had learned over the last week.  
“Yes, indeed. The negotiator was instrumental in landing a trade contract for medical supplies for one of our colonies suffering from a plague. Tyrell saved thousands of lives.” Valnal seemed genuinely grateful for the past assistance. 
“Yeah, she’s great that way.” 
“She?” Safra looked startled as she exchanged glances with her husband. 
“Oh, darn. Just forget that I said that, please. Tyrell has been a friend of mine since we left Terra together. It is so rare that I meet someone who has met the Negotiator that my tongue slipped, I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands and waited for the first course to be served. 
Valnal and Safra decided to ignore her gaff and turned the conversation to her trip to Dhema. The attempts on her life came as a surprise to them, but their mention of General Kassil came as a surprise to her. 
“What? I’m sorry, I drifted off for a minute.” She apologized for her lack of attention. 
“General Kassil will be here for dinner tomorrow. Valnal and he go back a long way, we are eager to here of his plans for taking a wife at long last now that he is retired.” Safra was enthusiastic, as were most women when the word marriage came up. 
“He is planning to marry then? He made no mention of it on the journey here.” She was kicking herself for being seven kinds of fool. Then gave her head a mental shake. She was not marriage material, he had made that abundantly clear.  
“His family had been assembling candidates for the last few months. All that remains is for him to make his decision.” Safra was giddy at the thought of a wedding amongst her social circle. 
“Is it that easy? I mean to pick a wife?” She was surprised. It seemed so bloodless for a race as passionate as they seemed to be. Kassil was certainly passionate—she couldn’t imagine him in an arranged marriage. 
Valnal laughed, a rich dark sound, “It is for Kassil, war heroes and men from his bloodline are extremely in demand. Women around the cities have been circling this day on their calendar for months.” 
“Oh. I hope he will be very happy.” She tried to put some enthusiasm into her voice, but realized that she had failed as the couple exchanged a long look.  
Sam skipped dessert and headed back to her rooms with additional thanks given to her hosts. She undressed and climbed into her bed, leaving the wide window open and the breeze to caress her heated skin. She blanked her mind and fell asleep, her first night on this new world. 
The next morning, she woke to find curious black eyes burning into her own. 
“Holy!” Sam flinched back, and was drawn up short by the sheet tucked around her, and pinned beneath her visitor. She slowly relaxed into her bed, scooting down to make sure that she kept her breasts covered. 
“Morning. You’re naked. Why are you naked?” The little face was earnest and curious. 
“I was so tired that I fell asleep before I could find my nightgown. Can you get me that robe from over there?” Sam sighed with relief as Shalin scampered off to the couch and grabbed her robe for her. Once she had carefully tucked herself into the sleeves and knotted the belt at her waist, she sat up a little further. 
“What time is it? Did I miss breakfast?” She slowly maneuvered her legs out from under the sheets and stood up, feeling the robe flow around her ankles. 
Shalin giggled, and enchanting noise. “The servants brought your breakfast in an hour ago. It is only fruit, but there is enough for two.” 
Sure enough, there was a covered tray on the table. She moved over to it, lifting the dome, and perused the selection of unfamiliar fruit. It looked tasty. 
“Shalin, would you help me figure out which one of these I should actually eat?” Sam smiled at the enthusiastic clapping that followed her suggestion. 
“I only got cereal for breakfast. I didn’t eat it.” With a scramble and rustle of skirts Shalin jumped onto a chair near the table and started to explain the food. It was divided into colors, and with only a few twists by her tiny fingers, the little lady of the house had moved it into complete disarray. 
“These are sweet, salty, sour, tangy, and bland.” She named the fruit, first in Alliance, then in Dhemon Common, then in the local dialect. The fruit lesson continued and Sam found that there were a lot of similarities in the taste buds of humans versus dhemons. 
After breakfast, Shalin and her mother dragged Sam out for a walk. They visited the market place, teaching her the local dialect and introducing her to the vendors. The faces she saw were curious but not hostile, and they set her at ease. 
They stopped for lunch in the village, and before Sam knew it, it was closing on the dinner hour. They returned to the estate, and changed for dinner. Shalin was delighted that she would be seeing her ‘Uncle Kassil’ once more. 
Sam straightened and viewed herself in the mirror. This was as good as it was going to get. If only Etion were here to do her hair. She walked the long way down the halls to the parlor, and froze just outside of the doorway, out of sight. Kassil’s booming voice was unmistakable. He was laughing at something that had been said before she had gotten into earshot. Her hand reached forward, and then her fingers curled in on themselves and fell to her side. Best to get this over with. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 11 
 
 

s she glided into the room she received a surprise. Not only was Kassil there, but so was another male. He stood gracefully and gave her a bow, his eyes taking her measure from the floor up as he straightened. Kassil had also risen to his feet and was scowling at the other male. He walked forward to greet her and took her hand to raise it to his lips. 
“Miss Samantha, I trust that you weathered your journey well? You certainly look well.” His eyes held heat and knowledge, and this time it was the other male who scowled at him. 
“Yes, thank you General Kassil. It was a pleasant enough trip. I have heard that you have planned your retirement. You did not mention it on the journey.” She couldn’t keep the reproach out of her tone. She regrouped and pasted a pleasant expression on her face. 
“Miss Samantha, I don’t believe that you have met Lord Brodin. He is Kassil’s cousin, and a major landowner in this area.” Safra quickly interjected before Kassil could continue. 
“Please to meet you, Lord Brodin.” She executed a curtsy, dipping low then rising, realizing only then that Kassil still had possession of her hand. She delicately slid her hand free and moved over to sit next to Shalin. 
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Samantha.” His skin was the same shade and texture as Kassil’s, but his eyes were an ice blue. Those eyes seemed to be looking beneath her clothing, and enjoying what they found. 
“Uncle Kassil says that when he met you, you were stuck in a tank of water.” Shalin scrunched up her shoulders with enjoyment of the story. She seemed delighted to be in a room full of adults, and Sam was intensely grateful that Safra and Valnal had let her come. She made excellent camouflage. 
“Well, it wasn’t water, but it was a liquid. I bet I looked kinda funny.” She smiled at the little girl and pantomimed holding her breath. Shalin giggled and snuggled against her, and Sam put her arm around the tiny shoulders. 
“Why were you in the tank, Sam?” Safra looked curious, and Samantha smiled, they had decided to forgo the formality of title sometime that afternoon.  
“I had been injured at work. It was to help me get better.” She glanced down at Shalin, then met Safra’s gaze and promised with her eyes to fill her in later. 
Valnal sat up and beckoned to his daughter. “Come on minx, it is time for dinner. You are my partner.” 
Kassil moved like lightning and had offered his hand to Sam before she could blink. “You will be my dinner partner, won’t you Miss Samantha?” 
She looked around at the sea of amused faces and sighed deeply, taking his hand and using it to rise from the couch. “Of course General. It would be an honor to be escorted by a hero of the Dheman people.” 
His skin darkened with a blush, but he took her arm and waited for Valnal to lead the way in to dinner. Lord Brodin gallantly took Safra’s arm and off they went. 
Dinner was excruciatingly polite. It mainly revolved around the crops and expected harvest. A challenge for a game of Mintag was thrown out, and Sam flushed in memory of the last time she had played the game. 
Brodin and Kassil were keen to take on each other in the game of strategy, and Valnal wanted to play the winner. Sam almost threw her hat into the ring, until she remembered that females did not play in public. 
They lingered over dessert, then went into the parlor once again and began the marathon of Mintag. Shalin was sent off to bed, and the conversation became a little more adult. 
“So, what exactly were you wearing in that tank?” Brodin made the statement while Kassil was moving a piece on the board. Kassil’s head came up and he scowled ferociously at his cousin. 
She kept her voice light. “About what you would expect. A lot of tubes and wires. Oh, and my hunter tattoo.” 
Safra seemed interested, “You were a hunter?” 
“Yep. A long time ago it seems.” 
“Where is the tattoo?” Brodin waggled his eyebrows in a lascivious manner. 
“Upon her thigh. Picked out in metallic inks. Very striking against the smooth gold of her skin.” Kassil’s voice was amused as he met the eyes of his cousin over the table. 
“You have seen it?” Brodin did not seem to like that idea at all. 
“Of course, when she was in the tank.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. 
Sam was confused. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew she didn’t like it. 
“I am very tired. I’m sorry, but I beg to be excused from this gathering.” 
Valnal took pity on her, “Yes of course, you must be exhausted. Go to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.” 
She rose to her feet. “Thank you. It was a pleasure meeting you Lord Brodin, and to see you again General Kassil. Good night.” 
She returned to her room. Latching the door behind her. She leaned on it and sighed. Men. She just could not understand what those two were up to. She undressed and went to bed. Having learned her lesson, she put on a nightgown before she lay down.  
 
* * * * 
 
“The most intriguing woman I have seen in years, and you have driven her off.” Brodin was hostile as he attacked Kassil’s figures on the board. 
“She is not yours to pursue.” His voice was implacable. 
Safra looked from one to the other, “Kassil, I thought that your mother had provided you with a list of candidates for marriage.” 
Kassil frowned and looked up from the game, “She did. I did not find them suitable.” 
Valnal looked incredibly amused, “Out of all of the choices she provided you with the second that you landed, you have already decided to find them unsuitable?” 
“Yes.” 
“What could possibly be wrong with all of them?” Safra was appalled. She had been in communication with several of the women who were trying to gauge Kassil’s preferences. Her com unit had been blinking like mad for the last two weeks. 
“I don’t want them.” He moved his pieces again, all of his focus on the board. 
“How do you know? You haven’t even met them. You have only seen their pictures.” Safra was scandalized. It was almost unheard of that a male would dismiss all of the females presented to him as candidates for his bride without meeting them. 
“I know.” He let out a lurid curse as Brodin made his move and won the game. 
“How do you know, Kassil? Have you met someone special already?” Valnal sat still for a moment. “Oh gods, it is the Terran. You want Samantha.” 
The room fell silent. Brodin looked at once angry and scandalized. “Your mother is going to kill you!” 
“No she isn’t.” Kassil smiled. 
“Yes she is.” 
“No she isn’t, I have already discussed this with her and she is delighted.” 
“Delighted? Neola? She is happy that you want a new species?” Brodin seemed confused, as he could not imagine his Aunt accepting a woman that she had not approved personally. 
“With a grandchild in the balance, she will accept a rock if it will have me.” Kassil grinned at his friends and family. 
“Samantha is pregnant? Oh gods.” Safra sat heavily on the settee, Valnal dropping down beside her. 
“So that is why Etion was insistent that Samantha would not be a disruption to our household for very long. He knew.” Valnal looked stunned. 
The race of Dhemons did not blend very well with other species. Safra had looked it up in the Dhema archives while they were waiting for Sam to arrive.  
Eons earlier, the explorers of Dhema had gone to Terra to observe the primitives. The Enjel were already in residence disseminating information and technology indiscriminately, and a conflict of mammoth proportions ensued. They each objected to the plans that the other had for the new species.  
War was declared and the fighting lasted for hundreds of years. Thousands of humans died in the crossfire. The remains of the battle were carried on in verse and song, both on Dhema and on earth. The Admar had finally stepped in and stopped the battle. They banished both races from the earth and set up the Alliance protectorate to keep more advanced races from taking advantage of the primitives. 
Now one of the heroes of Dhema was going to take a human to wife.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 12 
 
 

rodin sat stunned for a moment, then smiled. Laughter bubbled up within him and escaped in a roar of glee. His laughter was contagious and soon the entire room was convulsed with mirth. Well, with the exception of Kassil. He sat at the Mintag board and scowled his disapproval. 
“It’s not really that funny.”  
“What are you waiting for Kassil? Go get her. You have my authorization as her custodian to enter her rooms. What you do there is your own business.” Valnal sat back and held Safra’s hand with a pleased grin on his face. 
“Uh, Kassil, are you sure she’ll be willing?” Safra was a little hesitant, giving her new friend over to her old friend. 
“Pretty sure. She already bears one of my marks.” Kassil rose from the table and proceeded to leave the room of astonished dhemons. His boots made no noise on the stone of the hallway. He glided up to Sam’s room and turned the lock. 
 
* * * * 
 
Her sleep was fitful. She was hot. Her legs rubbed against each other and it was several moments before she realized that there was no fabric dragging with her movements. 
A prickling at her breast was causing a cascade of heat. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped at the sight of the dark head with banded braids suckling at her breast.  
“Kassil, ohh.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and held his head to her breast. Her thighs shifted again and she felt a telltale wetness lubricating their movements. She sighed happily and stroked his jaw, neck and shoulders. She shuddered as she felt his teeth on her nipple and moaned at the sweet pain. 
She tugged his head up, and met his mouth with her own. Her lips parted and her tongue slid along his as his mouth devoured hers. 
“I have missed you Samantha.” His voice was dark and caused a trembling deep in her belly. His words were punctuated with kisses. And his mouth moved lower, once again caressing her jaw line. 
“I love the sight of my marks on you.” His teeth gnawed at her neck, worrying at the puncture wounds that had begun to heal. She felt blood begin to well and shuddered as his tongue lapped it up. The suction that he applied caused more dampness to course from between her thighs, and they parted of their own accord. Her calf slid upward, her foot slid up the back of his thigh and wrapped around his waist. 
He did not need to be invited twice. His turgid erection pressed against her, nudging between her wet folds, before sliding inside. They both groaned as he slid home. Their hips beginning to surge as one. It seemed like they could remain together for days, rising and falling, thrusting and retreating. Finally it was too much for Samantha and she keened her release, tightening her legs behind Kassil’s back to drive him deeply into her and keep him there. 
As her channel pulsed around him, he kept perfectly still. Sweat dripped off of him and onto her, soaking the bedclothes with his exertions. His groan sounded in the darkness that wrapped them. His body shook with the effort of keeping still as she contracted around him. Finally she relaxed under him, her legs falling to the side, letting him seek his own glory without restraint.  
Her hands stroked his chest in an unending pattern. Trailing around to caress his back as he began to buck and plunge against her. She felt his teeth on the other side of her neck, and once again he bit her, hard. 
As her blood flowed across his tongue he began to pump his seed deep within her. He quivered in the grip of his own orgasm, shaking and groaning in his release. 
He drew back and kissed her lips, then flung his head back and roared his triumph. It was the call of a beast, and it drew others to it. 
The doors to her chamber flew open, Valnal stood in the doorway. Brodin was behind him and to one side. Safra came in through the balcony window. 
“Do you witness?” Kassil’s voice was a snarl, his hardness still buried deep. 
“We do.” The voices were all around them. 
“Do you contest?” 
“We don’t.” The voices were strong. 
“Her status?” This last was a roar of triumph. 
“Your Lady!”  
Sam’s mind reeled, her body was still throbbing in time to his. She could make nothing of the voices echoing the large chamber. 
Silence overcame the room, and only their breathing was a noise in the darkness. He kissed her deeply, and then eased from her body. 
“What was that all about?” She was only a little curious, her senses having been overloaded with him since he entered her bed and made love to her. 
“We are married now, by Dhema tradition. Our union has been witnessed, your status as my lady confirmed.” His tone was distracted, he was watching his fingers trail down her thigh and up her belly, marveling at the differences in their skins. 
“You do know that on my world, asking is traditional.” 
“Yes, I have looked up your traditions, but I felt that our baby needed his father, more than a silly engagement.” 
“Baby?” Her voice was a delicate whisper, one hand drifted down to cover his hand on her belly. 
He grinned at her, “Why do you think the doctor was so upset? You arrived on the ship a virgin, and left it pregnant. It didn’t take a mathematician to add it up.” 
“He told you?” 
“Not really, he just gave me a medical report, and the DNA of the father. Believe it or not, I figured out the rest for myself.” Their fingers tangled on her stomach and his lips sought hers. 
“A baby. I have never thought about having a baby.”  
He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into his lap. “You have a few months to think about it. Shalin will be happy to have someone to play with, and my mother is already at my house decorating the baby’s room.” 
 
* * * * 
 
Across the galaxy, Negotiator Tyrell got the news that Samantha was safe and sound, and expecting. The Alliance councilors would be ecstatic. The first human/dheman hybrid in three thousand years. She looked at her private records, and located the next person she needed to transplant on a selected world. Annabelle needed permanent leave after her injuries in the Arena Station attack. Perhaps Avari would be a good choice. She had just the elder in mind to check on her.  
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
About the Author 
 

  compulsive crafter and sucker for a ‘happily ever after’, I spend my time avoiding anything related to housework. My hobbies have included needlework, metalwork, henna tattoos and costume design. Oh yeah, and writing. I love to write. A rabid sci-fi buff and nerd to the core.