A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Seeing Stars Anthology

ISBN # 978-0-85715-540-5

Bodies of Light ©Copyright Lisabet Sarai 2011

The Sevarian Way ©Copyright Justine Elyot 2011

Europa, Europa ©Copyright KS Augustin 2011

Star Struck ©Copyright Buffi BeCraft 2011

To Bed a Goddess ©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee 2011

Captain Kate ©Copyright Sophie Angmering 2011

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2011

Edited by Lisa Cox

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing.  Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers.  This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

SEEING STARS ANTHOLOGY

Bodies of Light

Lisabet Sarai

The Sevarian Way

Justine Elyot

Europa, Europa

KS Augustin

Star Struck

Buffi BeCraft

To Bed a Goddess

Lizzie Lynn Lee

Captain Kate

Sophie Angmering

BODIES OF LIGHT

Lisabet Sarai

Dedication

To Chris, for encouraging me to write about new worlds.

Chapter One

She had failed.

Suspension was supposed to be dreamless. Still, frustration and disappointment swirled through her consciousness. Pain nagged her, the ache of goals missed, work left undone. What work? She could not recall. She knew only that it had been critically important.

Layers of confusion swaddled her mind like heavy blankets, smothering any attempt at logic. The incoherence of her thoughts disturbed her further. Images, words and symbols crept into focus then faded before she could decipher their meanings. The need to understand was an itch she could not scratch.

She hung in a dark, foggy void, disembodied and disoriented. Only her emotions had any clarity. She could not banish the certainty that she had been tested and found wanting.

Then came the light.

In the void there was no time. Without transition, light arced through her, golden arrows that pierced and scattered her despair. She had no eyes but somehow she was drenched in rainbow-edged glory. Shimmering waves of aquamarine and cerise danced before her—through her—banishing her darkness. She heard the light as well as saw it, a strange melody that pulsed in rhythm with the glow, tugging at her heart. Irrational joy flooded her.

“Christine.” The voice wound in and out among the chords. It caressed her being, promising comfort and release from care.

“Christine.” A second voice (yet how could she know this, without ears to hear?) whispered in the brief pauses between notes, deeper, darker, a gorgeous contrast with the flaring colours that bathed her thoughts. The new voice spoke of pleasure, of desire and exquisite satisfaction.

“You are not alone,” the first voice murmured.

“We are with you,” the second announced, bold and bright as a trumpet call. At the same time, sensation rippled through her. Invisible hands cupped and massaged her breasts (but she had no body, no breasts…) until sparks flew from the nipples to merge with the spiralling brightness. Fingertips trailed along her non-existent skin, triggering pleasure so intense it frightened her. The silver voice—as she pictured the first—soothed her without words. The bronze voice laughed like ringing bells and coaxed ever more unbearable delight from her insubstantial body. Her soundless moans rose to join the prismatic symphony in which she floated.

The twin voices teased and enticed her, urging her to let go. “We will support you,” they crooned as pleasure suffused her. She stopped trying to understand how she could experience such arousal when she had no limbs, no sex. She was the pleasure, a multi-hued whirl of harmonious vibration in crescendo.

Silver-voice sang her to the top. Bronze-voice held her there, his power shuddering through her, driving out the fear. “Now fly,” said the darker voice and released her.

Pure white energy bloomed from her, rushing outwards. Bliss followed in the wake of the blossoming brilliance. The music swelled to a blinding chorus then thundered into silence.

Darkness descended once more, warm and welcoming, cradling Christine like a beloved child. She reached out mentally for the two voices, but caught only faint echoes of their presence. A twinge of sorrow marred her comfort for a moment, then evaporated. All was well.

Christine slipped deeper into the sweet unconsciousness of suspension, forgetting her doubts and regrets.

* * * *

The alarm buzzed in Christine’s ears like an angry wasp. Electric current crackled along her skin, goading her long-dormant nerves into responsiveness. Her attempt to inhale turned into a racking cough as her body expelled the last traces of fluid from her lungs. Her eyes flickered open. Dim as it was, the blue-tinged light within the suspension pod made her head pound.

Her limbs felt weighted with lead. She tried to wiggle her fingers. They were stiff, as though encrusted with rust. The gel that cradled her gradually warmed. As it did, her joints grew more flexible. Little by little the pod thawed her long-immobile body.

As soon as she could lift her arm, she groped for the release switch. Her movements were clumsy and slow. The curved hatch over her face slid back, exposing her to the cooler air outside. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin. She pulled the tubes from her arms and pushed aside the tangle of cables strapped around her brow. When she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She waited for the vertigo to subside.

The fog in her brain thinned a bit. She remembered where she was—the Archimedes, en route to Sirius 2. Had they arrived, then? Listening closely, she heard nothing but her own breathing.

The suspension bay was located near the centre of the ship in order to protect it from possible meteor damage to the hull. There were no viewports. It hardly mattered. Christine was a physicist, not an astronomer or a pilot. Even if she could have seen the stars, she couldn’t have read them. She needed to get to the bridge, to figure out how far they were from their destination and whether it was time to revive the rest of the crew.

She swung her legs out of the coffin-like suspension capsule and took a stab at standing. Her knees buckled when she transferred her weight, leaving her slumped on the rubber-clad floor. Her head swam. When her vision cleared, she tried again. This time she managed to stay upright although she had to lean on the capsule for support.

Christine took a deep breath. She felt the strength returning gradually to her body. Her skin was slimy with residue from the nutrient gel that had nourished her inanimate form during the months—or was it years?—since the ship had departed.

At point-nine lightspeed, the maximum velocity of which the Archimedes was capable, the journey to the Sirius cluster should have taken almost thirteen years. Was that long wait really over? It had seemed like the blink of an eye. A kind of rosy haze hung in her mind, a sense of peace and well-being, but she couldn’t remember any details about her time in stasis.

She surveyed the nineteen other capsules arranged around the perimeter of the bay. She seemed to be the only one the ship had awakened. She stumbled over to the closest pod—Ravin Conter, the xenobiologist and her assigned partner—and peered in through the curved glass. She could just make out his rugged features, pale and composed.

Something wasn’t right, though. Her thoughts still disordered by the transition, it took her ten seconds to put her finger on the problem. The capsule should have been lit from within by the same low-intensity blue as her own had been. However, there was no interior illumination. Only the ambient light of the bay made Ravin’s face visible.

“Ravin!” she cried. Her voice woke hollow echoes in the metal-walled chamber. The vital sign indicators on the control panel were blank. She keyed the emergency revival sequence into the controls on the top of the pod. Nothing happened. There was no power running to the capsule. It was dead, and so, it was obvious, was the person within.

“No!”

She stared at Ravin’s naked form, cradled in blue-green gel and twined in wires and hoses. How could he be dead? What had happened? Christine whirled around to check the next capsule—Amber Stone, ship’s doctor and the closest thing she had to a friend. Like Ravin’s, Amber’s pod was dark and unresponsive.

Fighting down her panic, Christine examined the remaining suspension capsules. All appeared to have malfunctioned. All the occupants lay in darkness within, perfectly-preserved corpses.

“No, no—please, no!” she keened, sinking to her knees in the centre of the room. “Oh, please…” Her eyes burned as tears welled up for the first time in years.

She had not really been close to anyone on the Archimedes—she and Ravin had been paired solely on the basis of genetic and psychological compatibility—but she had liked and respected them all. They’d had the courage to volunteer for Earth’s first interstellar mission, to risk their lives for the future of humanity. Hell, they’d fought hard for the opportunity, beating the hundreds of other candidates. They’d endured the two years of gruelling preparation. They’d climbed willingly into the suspension capsules knowing they wouldn’t emerge for years—if ever. Each had left his or her life on Earth behind, well aware that the odds of the mission succeeding were small and that, even if it did succeed, they could never return.

Now they were gone and, with them, all hope of establishing a colony. The mission was a failure—one final failure in the long series that had been her life.

Guilt and grief crashed down upon her. She bent double, her forehead against the floor, sobbing until knives of pain lanced through her chest.

If only she had found the key, the missing variable that would make the equations work, none of this would have happened. Physicists were convinced that faster than light travel was possible. Everyone knew there had to be a way to bend space and create wormholes—science fiction tales had assumed this for generations. Yet nearly a century after men had first landed on the moon, no one had figured out the mathematics to support the widely-held conviction.

Christine had poured twenty years of her life into solving the problem. She had failed along with everyone else. That was why she’d dedicated herself to the Archimedes mission. Her lack of insight meant that only the closest stars were plausible targets. Even then, an interstellar crew would need to spend years in stasis before they reached their destination. She was determined to pay the price for her failure. Somehow, signing on to the Archimedes had seemed like a way to make amends.

And now what? Her tears trailed off, leaving her throat sore and her eyes prickly. She was on her own, the only survivor of some bizarre accident. Well, she was used to being alone, wasn’t she? She’d always been by herself, ever since her parents had succumbed to the plague. Her grandmother had taken Christine in and had tried to compensate for the loss, but it had already been too late. The solemn six-year-old had decided she’d rather wall herself off from love than risk the pain of losing it again.

Christine’s practical side reasserted itself. Rising on wobbly legs, she surveyed her surroundings in an attempt to evaluate the situation. The ship as a whole clearly had power. A glow-strip along the ceiling illuminated the suspension bay. The fact that she was breathing proved the life support systems were functional, at least in this sector of the ship. She needed to get to the bridge and examine the instruments.

In one of the storage cabinets lining the walls, she found a coverall and magnetic sandals that fit. The ship’s atmosphere was a bit too cool to make nakedness comfortable, while the artificial gravity was no more than half a gee. Her chestnut hair, cropped short before departure, now hung in her eyes and reached halfway down her back. She raked her fingers through the tangles, then tied the heavy mass into a knot at the base of her neck.

She needed to discover how far along the ship had come in its journey and if possible—if the malfunctioning suspension equipment was an isolated fault, rather than a symptom of wider system failure—send a message back to Earth. A transmission wouldn’t arrive for years, of course, but at least the family of the crew members would eventually learn their fate. They’d be heroes—assuming that Earth hadn’t been torn apart in the interim by war or natural disaster. Colonising space had been the planet’s last hope.

And what about her own fate? How long could Christine survive, alone on a ship she didn’t really know how to control, headed into unknown reaches of space?

She palmed the access plate and the hatch hissed open. She could deal with the solitude. She’d had lots of practice. And as for survival, well—while the thought of death filled her with dread, her rational self recognised there was little reason for her to continue living. The mission had failed. She had failed. What was the point?

Chapter Two

The bridge was as silent as the suspension bay. However, a survey of the blinking panels and rotating 3D displays revealed that the entire ship had power. The pods had been some kind of anomaly. Relieved, Christine settled into the pilot’s chair (Sven Harlsson, gone like all the rest) and searched the cluttered controls until she found the viewport activation button. The curved shields slid open, revealing a hemisphere of blackness. For the first time, Christine gazed out into the emptiness of interstellar space.

Terror tightened her throat. She was falling into the immense void before her, drowning in the utter absence of light or form. She closed her eyes, trying to summon the scientist within her. No one had seen this before, the vast reaches of the universe outside Earth’s solar system. She was the first.

She forced herself to peer into the darkness, pressing against the transparent carbon-crystal of the viewport. As her vision adapted, she found she could see faint glowing clouds that must be galaxies and pinpricks of light that were distant stars. The universe was not totally empty, after all. She swallowed her fear and tried to speak.

“Request interstellar coordinates.” Her long-unused voice came out as a croak, but Archimedes understood her command.

“Three hundred and fifty nine degrees 56’ 39.5’ galactic latitude, minus two degrees 42’ 46.3’ galactic longitude,” the ship replied crisply.

“Request distance from Sirius cluster.”

“Approximately thirty-four-point-seven light years.”

“What?” That was farther away than they’d been when they started! “There must be a mistake! Recheck your calculations.”

The ship’s computer hesitated for a fraction of a second—almost as though it were offended, Christine thought. “There is no error. Current position is 34.68643 light years from Sirius, 41.321966 light years from Terra. Current speed is point-nine-one-seven-c. Heading is twenty-two degrees 13’ b by nine degrees 2’ l.”

Forty-one light years from Earth! Had they overshot their goal? Of course, a tiny miscalculation in their initial trajectory would be magnified into an increasingly large discrepancy the farther the ship travelled from its starting point. “How long has it been since departure?”

“Four years, sixty-two days, four hours and twenty-two minutes,” the ship intoned.

Only four years? “That’s not possible,” Christine objected. Given their maximum velocity, they could not have travelled anywhere near this far. Something was very wrong.

“Run full self-diagnostics,” she ordered. “Report any faults.”

The computer was silent for about ten seconds. Christine stared out of the viewport, wondering whether any of the faint, flickering points of brightness might be Sol.

“Self-diagnostics completed,” Archimedes announced. “No faults detected.”

Christine leant back in the padded chair with a weary sigh. Pain pounded in her temples. Her usually nimble mind felt stiff and rusty. She had to figure this out.

Once again, she saw Ravin’s blank, lifeless face. She had not loved him, but she had respected him, and he had given her pleasure during their pre-launch familiarisation exercises. She found that she missed him. “The crew are all dead,” she murmured to herself. “I’m the only one left, and I’m lost in space, billions of kilometres off course.”

“All suspension pod power was terminated,” the ship commented. “A collision with unidentified debris damaged the electrical distribution cables in the hull. Backup systems failed to engage.”

“What? How long ago did this happen?”

“Sixty-two hours and seventeen minutes ago.” Less than three days! If she had awakened a bit sooner, she might have saved them. The impact must have triggered the reactivation sequence in her own pod. Or perhaps the backup had kicked in to handle the life support for her pod alone.

“EVA is recommended to repair the breach,” Archimedes added. “Probability of atmospheric loss over the next twenty-four hours is point-four-six.”

Christine collapsed on to the control panel, her face buried in her hands, squeezing her eyes tight to hold back the tears. The ship wanted her to risk her life, venturing outside to patch the hole before the air escaped. But why should she bother? She was dead one way or the other.

The vastness of space weighed on her, even when she was not looking at it. The unending blackness threatened to smother her. She felt as empty and hollow as the universe stretching into infinity on every side.

* * * *

“Christine.” The voice rang like crystal and flowed like water, a far cry from the flat, synthetic tones of the Archimedes.  “Do not despair, lovely one.”

Christine could not help smiling at the endearment. No one had called her lovely for a very long time. She kept her eyes closed, willing the dream to continue.

“We are with you, Christine.” Deeper, richer, edged with laughter, another voice chimed in. “You are not alone.” A cool, soothing palm cupped her brow. Strong hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her upright, then slipped down to cradle her breasts. Luscious heat suffused her, focused on her suddenly-taut nipples. They were smouldering embers ready to burst into flame. Soft lips brushed her neck just below the hairline, sending shivers spiralling through her. Someone unknotted her hair and let the weight of it cascade freely down her back. She sighed as careful fingers eased out the tangles. Each gentle tug at her scalp was pure pleasure.

The caresses ceased for an instant while her chair swung away from the control panel. Then the sensations began again, delicious and irresistible—unseen hands kneading her breasts, a warm mouth nuzzling her earlobe, a teasing tickle tracing its way down her belly, firm pressure parting her thighs and the barest graze of a fingertip across her pubis. A fierce stab of delight ripped away her languid mood. She moaned, arching up towards the retreating finger. Laughter poured over her like dark honey.

“You like that, sweet?” asked the baritone. The finger returned, pressing into her nylon-covered cleft and sliding back and forth along her length.

Christine gasped. “Oh, yes…” Swirls of fluorescent colour danced on her closed eyelids. Familiar scents teased her nostrils, earth after a rain and new-mown grass. The finger moved faster. The soaked fabric of her coveralls slithered across her sensitised flesh. A climax gathered in her depths, heavy and full as summer thunderheads. “More,” she whispered, just as someone dragged the zip of her garment down below her waist. “More!” she yelled, as sharp teeth fastened on her bared nipple and hard digits plunged into her naked cunt.

Dozens of hands fluttered over her skin, strummed in her pussy, plucked at her swollen breasts. The ripe clouds burst. A torrent of pleasure flooded her senses. Her body dissolved. There was nothing left but pure ecstasy, vibrating through her being like celestial music.

“Open your eyes.” The higher voice, the one that shimmered like liquid starlight, spoke close to her ear. The suggestion filtered through her post-orgasmic haze. This dream is certainly tenacious, she thought, her limbs still tingling. Usually I wake up after I come.

“We’re here with you now,” added the earthy voice, from the other side. “Look upon us.”

Why should she resist? It was just a dream. Her eyelids felt leaden but she forced them apart.

A stranger stood to her right. He had marble-pale skin and hair like spun silver. Smoke-coloured brows shaded his piercing violet eyes. A pert nose and full lips gave him an androgynous look, but his lithe body was undeniably male—especially the column of rigid flesh that jutted from his groin.

Arousal flickered through Christine’s body, faint echoes of her recent climax. “Who are you?” she queried, her mouth watering at the sight of his sturdy erection. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m Alyn,” the young man answered with a smile that stole Christine’s breath. His skin gleamed in the dim light of the bridge as though dusted with stars. Fat pink nipples winked at her from his smoothly muscled chest. She ached to touch them. As though he read her thoughts, he reached for her hand and drew it to his breast. “I’m here for you, Christine. To cherish and to comfort you.”

His skin was silk under her palm. She moulded the shape of his pectoral and flicked at the taut nub at its centre. His cock surged in response. A drop of clear moisture gathered at the tip. She wet her lips, suddenly hungry. “Alyn,” she repeated, rolling the name on her tongue.

“And I’m Zed,” came the deeper voice, from her left. She turned to gaze at the second man, taller and stockier than Alyn but equally beautiful. Zed had jet hair and ebony eyes. With his prominent cheekbones, broad mouth and bronzed complexion, he made Christine think of some ancient tribal warrior. A provocative grin lit his face. He seized her other hand and curled her fingers around his swollen cock. “This is for you, little one.”

Blood pulsed through his shaft. Her small hand could barely encompass his girth. She squeezed and felt him harden further. He thrust into her palm, satin-sheathed stone. Her pussy ached to feel him driving into her depths.

Alyn knelt before her and removed her sandals, then pulled her to her feet. “We’ve been waiting for you to awaken.”

Zed leant forward to push the coverall off of her shoulders. “We knew you’d need company.” In a few seconds she was naked. Zed’s cock nudged the back of her hand, playfully inviting her to renew possession.

The dream was remarkably vivid. Every nerve sparked as Alyn circled behind her, reaching around to clasp her breasts. He pressed himself against her, nestling his hardness in the valley between her buttocks while he teased her nipples and nibbled her neck. Meanwhile Zed slipped his blunt fingers into her soaked pussy. His thumb found her clit and lingered there. Bolts of electric pleasure sizzled through her.

“Oh, please…” she sighed, as Zed pushed another digit into her, then spread his fingers wide. She was empty and hungry, crazy with want. She needed to be filled. Zed’s cock, Alyn’s cock, she didn’t care which, but if someone didn’t fill her she thought she’d die.

“She’s ready,” murmured Alyn. Releasing her breasts, he parted her buttocks and drove into her pussy from behind. The force of his entry crushed her against Zed’s powerful frame. The bulb of the heavier man’s cock prodded her clit, waking fresh spasms of delight.

Zed gripped her hips, holding her steady while Alyn thrust deep and hard. She arched her back, grinding her ass against Alyn’s pubis and urging him on. She was full now, deliciously so, but she wanted more. Zed’s cock slid back and forth at her entrance, bumping on every stroke against the other man’s organ embedded in her sex. The thought of them touching, skin on skin, pushed her higher still, closer to the edge.

All at once Zed dug his nails into her flesh. His pelvis jerked, hard enough to knock her off her feet. With a massive thrust, he buried his organ in her well-lubricated cavity, next to Alyn’s shaft.

Christine screamed, stretched to the limit, certain she’d be torn apart. Then a thunderous wave of pleasure crashed down upon her, sweeping away the brief pain. The two men held her close, stilling their movements while she became accustomed to the double invasion.

She gasped for breath. The fullness was exquisite. Her cunt clenched around the two cocks. They swelled inside her, taking her over. They’ll come together, she thought, inside me, mingling their seed. The notion drove her wild.

Sensing her rising arousal, Alyn and Zed resumed their thrusts. Perfectly synchronised, they drew back then plunged together into her depths. Zed’s steely shaft grazed her clit on each stroke. Alyn’s balls slapped the backs of her thighs. Christine surrendered completely to their shared power. She floated on a cloud of delirious sensation, pleasure more acute than she’d ever known.

All at once, she realised that they actually were floating. The three of them writhed and squirmed a metre above the floor. Free fall, she thought, feeling giddy and strange. Without her sandals to anchor her, the force of Zed’s entry had propelled them all into the air. Even in my dreams, I can’t get away from physics.

Alyn clutched her shoulders, crying out in some foreign tongue. His cock shuddered and convulsed as he emptied himself into her depths. Zed followed an instant later, grinding his pelvis against her clit as he came. The friction served as the final spark to kindle her own climax. Thought whirled away. There was only pleasure, deep and satisfying, welling up from some place at the heart of her and spilling over.

Chapter Three

Christine awakened in her bunk. She didn’t remember how she’d got there, but oh, she remembered her dream! She had never experienced anything like it. Maybe there’s something about suspension that stimulates the libido, she thought. Or maybe I’m already starting to become psychotic from the loneliness.

Her pussy felt sore and her thighs were sticky. She concluded that she must have been masturbating in her sleep. Her headache, however, was gone, and her mind felt sharper than it had since she’d come out of stasis. Plus she was hungry—ravenous, in fact.

She spent nearly ten minutes in the ultrasonic shower, trying to cleanse herself of the residue from her dream. The folds of her sex were tender and sensitive. The lightest touch made her squirm.

After dressing in loose pants, a T-shirt and her magnetic shoes, she made her way to the dining hall. Twenty empty chairs were ranged neatly around the elliptical table. The last time she’d been here, they’d been full, as the crew ate its last meal together before entering suspension. A vicious pang of sorrow knifed her chest.

She pushed her dark thoughts into the background, concentrating on the process of rehydrating and heating a freeze-dried food pack.

She should do something about the bodies. Standard procedure in the case of a death required her to notify Earth then wrap the corpse in a pressure suit and eject it into space. But there were nineteen corpses! Plus any message she sent today wouldn’t arrive for forty years.

Then there was the problem of the hole in the hull. “Request status of oxygen leak,” she called out as she flipped open the dispenser on a carton of orange juice. She sucked in a mouthful of the sugary liquid.

“Minimal leakage has been detected so far,” the computer answered. “However, the breach has grown by six-point-five centimetres since last report. Probability of complete atmospheric loss in the next twenty-four hours is point-five-three. Recommend EVA for repair should commence as soon as possible.”

She really didn’t feel like making the effort. What was the use? She’d die anyway, of starvation or madness. In the past, she’d always scorned people who committed suicide. Killing oneself had seemed both cowardly and grandiose. Now, at last, she could understand. It might be easier just to give up.

Suffocation, however, was supposed to be a horrible way to die.

It was her duty, too, to do whatever she could to further the mission, despite the enormous setbacks it had encountered. The primary objectives—a viable colony, a beachhead on a distant world—were obviously impossible to achieve, but she could observe and record and transmit her logs back to the home planet. Perhaps her data would be useful to future interstellar crews. Perhaps she could even figure out how they’d ended up so far from Earth in only four years—that at least was a puzzle for a physicist like herself.

Christine had never been the sort of person to neglect her duty.

With a sigh, she made her way to the antechamber near the exit bay and extricated her pressure suit from its locker. All of the crew had been trained in EVA procedures in case of emergencies. She wormed her way into the clumsy suit and fastened the collar around her neck, checking carefully that the seals were tight. Then she settled the transparent helmet into the collar and adjusted the microphone panel and earbuds.

“Download repair instructions,” she instructed the ship. A 3D virtual image of the Archimedes appeared, seeming to float just inside the helmet. She flicked her gaze to the right. The image rotated in response. Bright orange flashed on the surface of the hull, indicating the location of the rift. “Demonstrate repair sequence.” A tiny humanoid figure became visible next to the ship. She blinked twice and the image zoomed. She watched as the cartoon-like figure made its way to the glowing breach area.

“Recommended repair medium is nano-carbon foil,” the ship intoned. Christine checked that the tool pouch at her waist contained a roll of the super-strong material. “Fuse to the hull with hi-vo generator.” She pressed a button on her bulky sleeve and the paired electrodes poked out from her gloved palm, as expected. “Use two layers. Wait one hundred and eighty seconds between applications.”

The holographic display illustrated the procedure, which looked straightforward.  Christine reviewed the steps three times, until she was confident she could execute it smoothly. She closed her eyes for five seconds to dismiss the display.

Well, there’s no point in waiting, she told herself. When she punched the oversized airlock button the iris-like door dilated to allow her entry. Once she had stepped over the threshold, it contracted behind her. The evacuation process started automatically. A gauge on the wall showed the pressure steadily dropping as air was siphoned into the ship.

Christine fought her panic, resisting the urge to gulp down air. Inside the pressure helmet, she could breathe normally. It was just hard to remain calm when the indicator showed she was surrounded by near-vacuum.

Finally the air pressure level reached zero. Christine unfurled the tether cable from the airlock wall and clipped it to the hook at the back of her suit. Her hand was steady as she pushed the exit control. The airlock spiralled open. Christine stepped out into space, her magnetic boots anchoring her to the hull.

The lack of familiar objects induced a profound sense of disorientation. Up and down had no meaning. She focused on the pitted metal surface of the ship and pulled herself along the huge spacecraft, using the hand patches as she had been taught.

Archimedes was shaped a bit like a doughnut impaled on a cigar—a disk-like structure mounted on the end of a cylinder. The disk-shaped section, about thirty metres thick and two hundred in diameter, housed the crew quarters, the hydroponic tanks, the suspension bay and other facilities for the human occupants. It rotated, producing a weak gravitational field. The cylinder that served as its axis contained the nuclear-powered engines, the water and air recycling plants, the guidance systems and similar mechanisms, as well as a launch area for the escape shuttle. Both sections bristled with sensors, antennae and other protrusions. Archimedes was intended to travel through the frictionless reaches of space. It didn’t need a streamlined profile.

The airlock exit was located on the backward-facing surface of the disk. The breach to be fixed was on the forward surface. Christine clambered over the edge of the disk and on to the front, towards the location pinpointed by the repair simulation. The tether snaked behind her like a kilometre-long tail.

The tear in the hull was small but obvious. Traces of escaping gas had tarnished the normally silvery metal. Christine retrieved the foil and tore off one pre-perforated sheet. Clumsy in her bulky gloves, she smoothed the ultra-thin material over the rift, then extruded the high-voltage electrodes. Fierce sparks ripped through the blackness as she sealed the foil to the hull. After-images swam in her vision while she waited the necessary three minutes before applying the second layer.

The second stage of the process posed no problem either. The carbon sheets were fused to the hull, closing the gap and rescuing her precious oxygen. The repaired section was probably stronger than the original material.

Letting out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, Christine allowed herself a moment of self-congratulation. She turned away from the ship to appreciate the emptiness around her. Her eyes had adapted. Now she could see the twinkle of distant stars, like gems studding the velvet blackness, the pale blurs that were galaxies. No one has ever travelled this far from home, she thought. Rather than fear, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration, akin to the excitement that gripped her when she resolved some knotty mathematical issue or confirmed the validity of a proof.

A memory from her childhood popped into her mind—sitting in the backyard with her grandma, peering into the glittering night sky. “I saw the first American go into space,” Nana had said. “Alan Shepard. I was in fourth grade. The whole school piled into the cafeteria to watch the launch on television. Black and white television,” she added with a laugh. “I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I decided that day that I wanted to be an astronaut. I had to see those wonders for myself.”

Of course, Nana hadn’t lived that dream. She’d become a teacher instead. Now, though, Christine was making that old fantasy real, floating free, embraced by the stars. It was amazing—awe-inspiring.

Then a delicate sadness crept over her. She’d never be able to share this feeling.

A red symbol flashed in the periphery of her vision, a routine warning that the suit oxygen supplies had reached seventy-five percent. That was enough for another four hours of EVA, but still, since her work was complete, she’d better get back inside.

She needed to reverse her orientation in order to climb back over the edge of the disk. Grasping a bracket with one hand, she gestured with the other to temporarily turn off the magnets in her boots. It was a gesture she’d practiced a hundred times during training, but something went wrong. She must have put too much force into the arm movement. The reaction tore her other hand from its grip and drove her body away from the ship.

The distance between her and the Archimedes grew wider by the second. Christine cursed her carelessness. She knew that one had to move slowly and deliberately at all times when performing EVA. Newton’s third law, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, applied in space just as it did everywhere else. In space, though, there was no friction to slow objects down.

Christine was more annoyed than concerned. She knew she could pull herself back to the airlock using the tether. That’s what it was for. She reached behind her to grasp it, where it clipped to her belt. Only then did she feel fear. Her lifeline was gone.

She twisted to look behind her. The end of the tether dangled in space, metres away. How had it come undone? Had she failed to fasten it properly? She flailed about as she tried unsuccessfully to grab it.

Christine squeezed back the tears that threatened. They’d just float around inside the helmet, making it harder to see and breathe. She had to think. Her suit included mini-jets that could be used to propel her back towards the hull. However, she’d need to activate them at just the right angle and for just the right duration, or she’d fly past the ship and into space on the other side. The necessary vectors depended on her own speed and direction as well as on that of the ship. If she didn’t solve the problem, she’d soon be as dead as the rest of the crew. No one would ever know what had happened to any of them.

It was difficult to focus when she was terrified. She shut her eyes, trying to concentrate on the calculations.

All at once, she felt something behind her, despite the insulating layers of the pressure suit. Her eyes flew open. She jerked, trying to look backwards. The sudden motion altered her trajectory, sending her parallel to the ship’s motion.

What? She gunned her jets, working against the momentum.

Strong arms clasped her waist. “Do not worry, Christine.” The familiar voice came from behind her. She twisted around to see the silver-haired god from her dream. He offered her a glorious smile as he somehow propelled her in the direction of the ship.

“You’re safe now,” said the other voice. Christine knew before she turned that she’d find the stocky, bronze-skinned man at her side. He took her arm, swaddled as it was in the multi-layered pressure suit, as though to guide her progress.

It was only then that she realised that neither man wore any sort of protective garments. Their limbs were sheathed in some clinging, reflective material that showed every detail of their magnificent physiques. Their faces were unmasked. Their heads were bare. In the vacuum of space!

“How…? What’s going on?” she cried, assuming they could hear her despite her helmet. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“We’re here for you, love,” the heavier man answered. “To take care of you.”

“In this case, to save you,” added Silver-Hair. Alyn. That was the name he’d used in her dream. Sure enough, they’d brought her back to the open airlock. Alyn pushed her in first, then followed. The burnished man—Zed was his name, right?—brought up the rear. He flipped the switch to close the outer hatch. Pressurisation commenced immediately.

As soon as levels reached something near normal, before the inner door activated, Christine tore off her helmet. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “You were out in space without suits, without helmets! How is that possible?”

The airlock spiralled open. Christine stumbled out, almost collapsing on to the bench that paralleled the wall. She didn’t resist as Alyn and Zed stripped off her pressure suit and stored it away. She just sat there, shaking her head, not believing her eyes.

“I thought I dreamed you,” she whispered. “Am I still dreaming? Am I dead?”

Alyn crouched at her feet and grinned up at her. “You definitely look alive to me.”

Zed seated himself beside her, his arm around her shoulders. He nuzzled at her neck, sending tiny shivers down her spine. “You’re certainly still warm…” He rested his palm over her pubis and brushed a finger through her cleft. “Wet, too…”

Languid desire threatened to overwhelm her once again. Christine pushed it away. Springing to her feet, she backed towards the opposite wall. “No! Don’t try to distract me! I need answers!”

“What you need is love,” murmured Alyn. He took a step in her direction, but Zed’s hand on his shoulder made him pause.

“I understand,” said the darker man, sounding serious for once. “You’re a woman of great intelligence. A scientist. You are bothered by the unexplained.”

“Damn right I am,” she replied. “So—explain yourselves!”

“What do you think?” Alyn’s voice was gentle. “Do you have any theories?”

Christine looked from one to the other. Each was perfect in his unique way. Alyn’s grace, Zed’s power—they were practically unearthly. How had they made their way to the ship, without a vehicle of their own? How had they survived outside, without suits or helmets?

They might be figments of her imagination, but their bodies felt as solid as her own. She could smell them, a paradoxical mix of spring flowers and autumn leaves. She knew if she ran her hand over Zed’s swelling muscles she’d feel the warmth of skin under his thin garment. She guessed that if she gave in to her desire and pressed her lips to Alyn’s ripe mouth she’d taste some intricate bouquet of flavours, far too complex to be imaginary.

Perhaps the whole ship was an illusion, along with all her memories and sensations. She knew that electro-stimulation research was making rapid progress back on Earth. But she didn’t think it had reached this level, where selective electrical impulses piped into the brain could create a complete, consistent, tangible world.

So what were the alternatives? Angels? Alyn and Zed certainly fit the bill physically, but if angels were this horny she was sure the stories people told about them would be very different.

Or aliens? Could Alyn and Zed be creatures from another world?

“That’s right,” said Zed, nodding as though she’d spoken aloud. “We knew you’d work it out.”

“But—but you look so human!”

Alyn came to her side and led her back to the bench. She sank down, too astounded to resist. Seating himself beside her, he stroked her hair with gentle fingers, then turned her face to his. She could feel his breath on her cheeks.

“We deliberately adopted these forms to make you feel more comfortable, sweet.” His lips captured hers. Christine moaned into his mouth, then feebly pushed him away.

“What do you really look like?” She searched their eyes. “Tentacles and bug-eyes?”

Zed took her other hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the palm, then ran his hot, wet tongue between her fingers. She squirmed, feeling as though he was licking the cleft of her sex instead. “Something like that,” he answered finally. “You shouldn’t worry about it, though.” Still holding her hand, he curled her fingers around the stiff rod of flesh jutting up between his thighs. Somehow his flimsy clothing had evaporated. His cock was a super-heated bar of steel. “We won’t hurt you, Christine, I promise.”

Christine remembered her ‘dream’, the glory of being stretched by two hard cocks simultaneously. She wondered why she was not embarrassed. When she squeezed Zed’s erection, he swelled further. Her pussy clenched in anticipation and moisture began to coat her thighs.

Alyn bent to suck her nipple through her T-shirt.  The rigid knot felt as though it was about to explode.

“Touch him too,” Zed instructed and Christine complied. Alyn’s cock was longer and thinner than Zed’s but at least as hard—and equally naked.

“What’s going on?” she murmured, as Zed claimed her mouth and Alyn slipped his eager fingers into her trousers. Her mind recoiled at the notion of having sex with non-humans. Her body, however, had no such qualms.

“We’re making love to you,” said Alyn, easing off her clothing.

“We’re fucking you,” added Zed, biting her nipple until she screamed. “That’s the most important reason that we’ve taken these human forms. So we can make you come.”

Chapter Four

Symbols danced before Christine’s eyes, rainbow-hued Greek and Latin characters, subscripts and superscripts. Schrödinger’s equation waltzed with Vernon’s reformulated field expressions. The de Broglie wave function shimmered in and out of focus as it transitioned through various eigenstates.

Feynman’s path integral slithered through her consciousness. Constants slotted in and out of matrices. Four-dimensional graphs appeared in graceful rotation, displaying successive three-dimensional views.

It was all so clear. The necessary transformations were obvious. The mathematical notations reassembled themselves into intricate patterns that Christine immediately grasped. The solution was surprising but beautifully simple.

Triumph filled her. She understood at last how to twist the universe and unlock the gates to other dimensions. Joy suffused her spirit like pure light. Humanity was saved, saved from its own stupid errors.

A touch woke her. The equations fled, along with her comprehension. She opened her eyes to find Zed bent over her, shaking her shoulder and looking concerned.

“Why didn’t you let me sleep? I saw it—the way to bend space and make faster-than-light travel possible. Now it’s gone.” She sat up, shaking her head, and glared at the stocky extraterrestrial.

“You were moaning and thrashing around on the bed. Almost like convulsions. We were worried.”

“In any case, you’ve been asleep for thirteen hours,” Alyn added. In two strides he crossed the floor of Christine’s tiny quarters and seated himself on the bunk beside her.

“Thirteen hours?” She searched her memory. The pictures it provided made her blush. Alyn’s platinum-crowned head buried between her damp thighs. Zed’s massive erection bobbing in her face. She recalled the salty taste of him, the silk of his skin sliding over her tongue, the metallic tang of his cum. She remembered writhing against Alyn’s mouth as he devoured her pussy. And there was more, much more—endless moments of shameful delight, pinned between them, Zed’s cock buried in her cunt while Alyn’s slender organ plundered her ass.

Christine remembered it all, far more clearly than her fast-evaporating dream of quantum inspiration. Her body remembered, too. Her quadriceps ached as though she’d done ten kilometres on the treadmill. Her inner thighs were tacky with her juices and pleasantly sore. When she shifted to support her back against the bulkhead, little twinges of pain recalled the outrageous sensation of being stretched and filled in both her orifices. Fresh moisture pooled in her cleft despite her determination to stay aloof.

“I guess you two wore me out.” She twisted out of Zed’s grasp, still bitter about losing the revelation from her dream.

“That’s part of it,” Alyn replied, trying to capture her hand. She snatched it away. “I suspect it is also a side-effect of your time in stasis. The stress from your mishap outside the ship may also have had an impact.”

“So how do you feel now?” asked Zed, stroking his half-erect penis. “We missed you, while you were sleeping.”

Christine tried to feel annoyed by the alien’s apparently insatiable interest in sex. He was so beautiful, so hard and hungry-looking, so male, that she lost the battle.

“Rested. Starved. And not for sex,” she added, noting Alyn’s cock was also swollen. “No more sex until I’ve eaten. And until you’ve given me some answers.”

* * * *

“Do you eat? Human food, I mean.” Christine looked up from the salad she was assembling from hydroponic lettuce and freeze-dried carrots and tomatoes. Alyn and Zed lounged around the table, observing her every move. The standard coveralls she’d insisted they don did little to hide their strength and grace, but at least she didn’t have to be distracted by their straining erections.

“We do not need food, but we can eat if we wish,” Alyn replied.

“Want some of this?” The notion of satisfying her hunger while they watched made her a bit uncomfortable.

“You should conserve your supplies,” said Zed.

“Why should I bother? What difference does it make, whether I die in two weeks or two months?” She planted herself in one of the chairs and took a defiant bite out of her soy-cheese sandwich, then speared a lettuce leaf and thrust it into her mouth.

“Do not speak that way. All life is precious. Yours is especially so, to us.” Alyn’s voice was musical and soothing.

“And why is that? Why are you here?” Christine folded her arms and leant on the table. “Who are you? If you’re from some other planet as you say, how did you get here? What happened to your ship? It’s time for you to tell me the truth. The whole story.”

Zed and Alyn exchanged glances. Alyn gave a barely perceptible nod. Zed placed both hands, palms down, upon the table and stared at them for a moment before commencing.

“Our home planet is located in what you call the Alpha Cygni system—nearly two thousand light years from your planet.” He looked up when Christine gasped.

“That far! So you must…you must have trans-lightspeed travel!”

Zed nodded. “Our race has known how to bend space time for centuries.”

Christine sprang from her chair, reached across the table and seized his wrists. “Oh, Zed! Please, you’ve got to explain it to me!” The brawny alien turned to his companion with a vaguely desperate expression on his handsome features.

“We are not physicists, Christine,” said Alyn. “But we will share what we can. Please allow us to tell our story in our own way, however.”

“I’m sorry.” She settled back into her seat. “It’s just that…never mind. Please, continue. So you came here from Alpha Cygni. What happened to your ship?”

“It, um, it was destroyed in a collision, as it emerged from hyperspace. Vaporised in an instant.”

“A collision?” Christine spoke slowly, already guessing what was to come.

“The probability of some other matter occupying the warp exit point is infinitesimal—but non-zero,” Alyn added. “We were extremely unlucky.”

“The breach. It was you. Your ship…”

“Yes,” whispered Zed. Once again he could not meet her eyes.

“You’re responsible…” Christine thought of the nineteen bodies entombed in the non-functional suspension capsules. She tried to summon her anger, but could muster only a deep sorrow. “The crew…”

“We are truly sorry, Christine.” Alyn’s face was grave. “It was, of course, an accident, but, yes, we are to blame for the deaths of your fellow travellers. Also for the fact that your ship is so far from its intended destination. The cataclysm ripped a hole in the space-time continuum and pushed you—all of us—through.”

“Oh, God!” Christine buried her face in her hands. How bitterly ironic—the crew of the poor, sub-light Archimedes wiped out by a warp ship!

A gentle hand stroked her tangled hair. “You understand now, why we are here? Why we must take care of you? Rescue you? Love you?” The pain was obvious in Zed’s voice.

“We will bear the burden of this tragedy forever, Christine.” Alyn’s wiry arm encircled her shoulders. He pressed his warm body against hers and she half-expected some sexual overture, but he just held her tight while sobs racked her chest and tears trickled down her cheeks. “We will all bear it together.”

For the first time since her awakening from suspension, Christine wept. She wept for Ravin and Amber and the rest of the brave souls who had sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. She wept for herself, lost, alone, a bitter failure, her last chance to redeem herself shattered by the blind randomness of the universe. She even wept for Alyn and Zed, sensing how terrible it must be to carry the weight of such guilt.

Christine cried until there were no more tears—until her eyes were on fire and her throat was like sandpaper. All the while, the two alien men cradled her in their arms, supporting her, soothing her without words.

Finally, she raised her head and pinned them with her red-rimmed eyes. “We’ve got to bury them.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Zed agreed.

“Come on.” She headed for the suspension bay, not waiting to see if they’d follow.

It was difficult work, wrestling the inert bodies of the crew out of the pods and into pressure suits—difficult both physically and emotionally. The three of them tackled the grim task as a silent, well-coordinated team. No words seemed to be required. Nineteen times they hoisted an unwieldy corpse and carried it through the corridors to the airlock. Nineteen times they watched as a suited figure was ejected from the Archimedes to spin helplessly in space. By the time the last of her former crewmates had been consigned to the vacuum, Christine was completely exhausted.

“I need to send a message to Earth,” she told Alyn and Zed, her voice flat with fatigue. She stumbled into her quarters and collapsed on her bunk. The two men followed her.

“You need to rest,” Zed replied. “You can barely walk.”

“I need to report their deaths.”

“Do it later,” said Alyn. “Now you should relax. Lie back and let us take care of you.” He unzipped her coveralls.

Christine giggled, suddenly light-headed, as his fingertips brushed her bare skin. She didn’t have the energy to protest. “I guess you’re right. Given that the message won’t arrive for forty years, a few hours’ delay won’t matter.”

“That’s our darling,” Zed murmured. She stretched out naked on the mattress, letting the tension drain from her limbs. For a moment he hovered above her, then he rolled into the space between her and the bulkhead. Aligning his nude body to hers (When had he stripped off his own clothes?), he captured her in his arms, careful not to push her off the narrow bunk. Once again she expected sex—his fingers tweaking her nipples or dabbling between her thighs—but despite the hard lump she felt prodding her hip, he made no move to seduce her.

The bed wouldn’t fit the three of them. Alyn dragged the plastifoam chair from the desk to the bed and sat down beside her, holding her hand. “Rest, lovely one. Let it all go. We’ll be here for you when you wake. Always.”

The last thing Christine noticed as she drifted off was that he, too, was naked and erect.

* * * *

She slept without dreams, cradled in sweet oblivion. Awareness returned gradually: scents of new-mown grass and fresh-baked bread reminding her of Earth; a rich voice humming an unfamiliar melody; warm flesh pressed against her bare skin. As she became conscious of her body and surroundings, the warmth grew, dancing along her arms and legs, hovering at her breasts and belly, diving into the moist gap between her thighs.

Christine opened her eyes. She lay in her bunk, on her back. Zed curled against her left side, his body wedged between her and the wall. Alyn had somehow managed to find enough space to stretch out along her right. He had extracted the safety harness from its hatch on the bulkhead, pulled it over their bodies and fastened it to the edge of the bed. The elastic web, intended to keep the occupant from floating off the mattress, effectively sealed the three of them into the narrow bunk.

Zed crooned some alien lullaby, close to her ear. Alyn feathered caresses over her skin, sparking pleasure everywhere he touched. Christine’s eyes met his. She caught her breath at the emotion she saw there. He might be some extraterrestrial monster, but he cared about her—in a way no one else ever had.

When he saw that she was awake, he raised himself on his elbow, bringing his lips to within millimetres of her own, but not making contact. His gaze drilled into her, asking a wordless question.

Christine tangled her fingers in his silver locks and pulled his mouth to hers. Yes, she answered silently. Yes! I want you. I need you. I forgive you. She thrust her bold tongue beyond his perfect white teeth, taking all that he offered, drinking in his sweetness and his passion. All the while his hands roamed over her body, teasing her taut nipples, circling her navel, playing in the humid forest of her pussy hair.

She broke the kiss at last in order to face Zed and offer him her lips in turn. Fire burned in his bottomless eyes, raw and seductive, kindling a sympathetic blaze. As Zed probed her mouth, Alyn’s clever fingers found her clit, sending her soaring into bliss.

The two men held her tight while her body shuddered in climax. Only when the echoes of pleasure died away did they begin again, stroking, kneading, suckling, playing her quickened body like some ethereal instrument. She opened herself completely to them, so hot, so human, wherever they came from. Again and again they eased her up to the pinnacle and cast her into the whirlwind of delight. She lost count of her orgasms, but each one was more intense than the last.

They didn’t speak. There was no need. When she struggled onto her side, clasped and constrained by the safety net, and fondled Alyn’s rampant cock, he understood. He adjusted his hips to align himself with her soaked pussy and slipped inside. It was simple, easy, as natural as breathing. His length curved up into her belly; his pubis pressed deliciously against her clit. For a long time, he didn’t thrust, but she could feel him pulse inside her, making his slender cock swell to seemingly impossible dimensions.

Behind her, Zed brushed her hair aside and nibbled the back of her neck. Shivers danced down her spine to lodge in her sex. He reached around to palm her breast, rolling the swollen bud of her nipple between his fingers. She arched back, nudging the slick bulb pressed against her buttocks. Zed responded as she’d hoped, parting her rear cheeks and wiggling a finger into her hole.

Her excitement climbed to a whole new level as Zed played there, pushing deeper, stretching her little by little. The fluids from her many orgasms had left her well-lubricated. The intrusions were pure pleasure. Meanwhile, Alyn started to rock his pelvis, sliding his hardness in and out, as deeply as he could, given the safety web.

Zed replaced his fingers with the head of his massive cock. Christine braced for the brief pain she had experienced when Alyn had entered her that way. Zed was thicker and nearly as long—he’d be more difficult to handle. She was shocked when his cock eased into her—shocked by the spike of pure pleasure. Despite the soreness she’d experienced after her first impaling, there was no pain at all.

It was outrageous, glorious, completely unbelievable. They lay there, flesh commingled, bound together and barely moving, while waves of sensation rose, crested and died away. The slightest shift in position triggered a new avalanche of pleasure.

Christine gasped and panted, clutching Alyn’s shoulders, clenching the hard flesh that filled her empty places. Zed clasped her hips, holding her, steady and safe, on the knife edge of climax. She could feel the way their two cocks rubbed together, separated only by a thin wall of muscle. She could sense their arousal building, despite their stillness.

Taking the lead from her lovers, she tried to relax. She willed herself not to strain towards release. Her breathing slowed and synchronised with theirs. Gratitude swelled in her chest as the pleasure grew steadily more intense. She felt blessed. Cherished. For the first time in her life, Christine did not feel alone. Love held the three of them there, suspended, truly joined. She let go and let the quiet passion bear her away.

The pleasure pulsed and glowed, scarlet, fuscia, violet and lavender swirling around her like the aurora borealis. Zed and Alyn sang to her, tenor and baritone entwining in harmonies almost too lovely to bear. She added her voice, reaching the high notes without effort. Blackness cradled her, velvety and warm, shot with brilliant streaks of teal and silver. It was the blackness of space, the emptiness of time. Somehow that did not frighten her. She knew the blackness was saturated with boundless love.

Her climax had no beginning. It just was, an outpouring of bliss that had always been and that would go on forever. Great chords of pleasure thundered through the universe, tearing her apart, remaking her. Zed and Alyn were there with her, their coming indistinguishable from her own, their voices rising in one pure note of perfection.

As the note died away and her body reclaimed her, Christine really understood, for the first time. Zed and Alyn were completely alien. There was nothing human about them at all.

Chapter Five

The universe spread out before Christine’s eyes, vanishing into distances even she could scarcely grasp, physicist though she was. Blinking plasma displays on the control panel provided the only light on the bridge. In the dimness, stars scattered across the hemispheric viewport glittered like chips of diamond. The Archimedes continued its blind progress towards a destination it would never reach, at a speed that would have taken it from Earth to the Sun in less than fifteen minutes. But the stars did not move.

It was difficult to believe those bright, cold points of light were really raging infernos—almost as difficult as believing her two lovers were not beautiful, virile men but something…other.

She sat in Sven’s chair, staring into the gem-studded blackness. Zed lounged in the co-pilot’s seat to her left. Alyn had taken the navigator’s place on her right. All three of them were naked. It had seemed ridiculous to put on clothing after the intimacy of their most recent coupling.

Christine had ordered an increase in the ambient temperature then switched off the computer’s cameras and voice. Belatedly, she realised she didn’t like the notion of their three-way lust being observed, even by a machine. She knew she was being silly, that ultimately it didn’t matter since no one would ever replay the recordings from the ship’s memory. She’d always been a private person, however. Somehow, the more deeply she and her companions connected during sex, the more uncomfortable she found the thought of surveillance.

She glanced over at Alyn. For once, he was not staring at her. He appeared riveted by the immensity of space stretched out before him, just as she had been. His long fingers clasped the arms of his seat. His androgynous features had a sombre cast, with his brows drawn together and his full lips pressed into a thin line. His flaccid penis lay draped between his legs, looking pale, smooth and vulnerable.

Zed was peering down at his hands, as though he was searching there for some revelation. When he felt the weight of her scrutiny, he favoured her with his typical mischievous grin, but his eyes were dark pools, without their usual sparkle. He too was flaccid. It appeared that their last encounter had finally sated their physical desire, at least for a while.

Love and sympathy warred with indignation in Christine’s heart. She hated dishonesty.

“You lied to me,” she said finally, her voice quiet and controlled. “There was no ship. You don’t need a ship to travel through space, do you?”

“Not a lie, sweet,” said Zed. “Just a simplification of the truth. We weren’t sure that you would understand, or believe…that you could imagine…”

“I’m a theoretical physicist. I’m trained to visualise the unimaginable. So tell me now who, or what you really are. The whole story. Do you really come from Alpha Cygni?”

“Yes,” Alyn replied. “That was our home. A long time ago.”

“How long?”

“Centuries. Millennia. Does it matter?” Zed picked up the thread. “Time doesn’t flow in the same way for us as it does for you.”

“Long enough for us to appreciate what we lost,” said Alyn. His violet eyes glistened. Was he holding back tears? Pity drowned out the last remnants of Christine’s anger. She stroked Alyn’s arm in comfort as Zed continued the narrative.

“Our planet was quite a bit like Earth. Carbon- and water-based life forms, photosynthesis, single and multi-cellular organisms… Our race was bipedal, not so different from humans really. Like humans, we were at the top of the food chain. And like you, we used our dominance over the other species on our planet unwisely. Our population grew. Our resources shrank. We thought that with our advanced technology we could solve any problem. We were wrong.

“Our planet began to die. The land became infertile. Water was scarce. Fumes from our mines and factories shut out the sun. The temperature dropped and our world froze. Most plant and animal species became extinct. We retreated into underground burrows and tried to tap the heat at the planet’s molten core. Instead we triggered huge earthquakes that buried most of our subterranean settlements.”

Zed’s fluid baritone cracked. He seemed unable to go on. Alyn reached across Christine’s body to squeeze Zed’s hand. Christine could hardly bear to look at the bronzed god’s pain-racked face.

The silver-haired alien resumed the tale where Zed had left off. “We realised our mistakes far too late. We had developed interstellar travel, but pushing matter through hyperspace requires vast amounts of energy. Our supplies of the mineral we used for fuel had dwindled. The quakes destroyed the few mines that remained. Our star ships offered no hope of escape. Finally, we had no choice but to slough off our material bodies and become pure energy ourselves.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Christine swivelled her seat around to face Alyn. But it was Zed who answered, after sliding off of his chair to sit cross-legged at her feet. He gazed up at her, gauging her reactions to the fantastic tale.

“Intelligent beings are an amalgam of matter and energy. Consciousness, spirit, soul, astral body—there are many terms—is the energic component. Normally that component is tightly bound to the material body. But it’s possible to set the spirit-energy free. Earth’s mystics have always known of this. Meditation, drugs, sex—there are various techniques for loosening the bonds that trap the astral self in the physical body.”

“Sex?” Christine’s pussy dampened as she recalled the strange, unending bliss of her last orgasm.

Alyn nodded. “Deep emotion, intense concentration, great pain or great pleasure all have the potential to temporarily release the energic self from its material bonds.”

“But those effects are only temporary,” added Zed. “In our case, we had to permanently leave our bodies behind. Our material selves perished with our poor, abused planet. Now we are bodies of light, free to travel the universe at will.”

There was a tinge of irony in his voice that Christine didn’t completely understand. “So, you can fold space?” she asked, not even trying to hide her eagerness. “You can move faster than light?”

“We are light. But yes, as your people have hypothesised, the venerable constant c is not the fixed limit it seems to be. And the equations that permit faster-than-light travel simplify dramatically when there is no matter involved.”

“Show me,” she demanded, starting to rise. “Teach me.”

Zed caught her hand and pulled her back down into her seat. “Patience, darling. You said you wanted the whole story. We’re not quite done.”

“Okay, okay. So all the inhabitants of your planet turned themselves into beings of pure energy and flew away?”

“There weren’t all that many of us remaining. And we couldn’t bear to leave, not at first. We watched from space as our planet tore itself apart. Our meddling at the core had started a chain reaction. In a matter of a few months, our home was transformed into a vast belt of rubble orbiting our star.”

“It was terrible,” whispered Alyn.

“After that—well, the death of the planet killed something in our spirits, too.” Zed released a deep sigh, as though it was difficult for him to go on. “Shame and grief ripped us apart as thoroughly as our world. We all dispersed in different directions, fleeing to the far ends of the universe. Now each of us wanders the reaches of space, eternally alone, haunted by the loss of our home. Free, yes. Alive, in a sense. But broken.”

“But you and Alyn…”

“A stroke of blind luck that we found each other.” Zed leant back to smile up at his lithe companion. “Somehow our mutual loneliness drew us together. He has done much to heal my spirit. We’ve been travelling together since.”

“Then we emerged from hyperspace at the same coordinates as your ship.” Alyn shook his head. “It is surprising that your vessel survived at all. The gravitational forces resulting from that energy/matter co-location should have done much more damage. Nevertheless, we managed to kill your crewmates.”

“But we found you. We probed your mind while you were in suspension. We learned your history. We sensed how lost and alone you were, so much like us.” Zed rose to his feet in one fluid motion and pulled Christine into his arms. “We came to love you. Now we understand why, even together, Alyn and I felt incomplete.” His strength surrounded her. His resurgent cock prodded her belly. She wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace, but she forced herself to resist the temptation.

“Wait—please! What about these bodies? They’re obviously not made of light.” She reached between them to squeeze Zed’s hefty erection, making him moan. “This cock is definitely real. And if you’re creatures of spirit, why are you always so horny?”

Alyn circled behind her and clasped her waist. He licked her earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her sex. “Energy and matter are inter-convertible. You know that. We fashioned these bodies out of our intrinsic energy so that we could communicate with you—and touch you—without frightening you.” He slid his hands up her ribcage to her breasts. Her nipples tightened, aching for stimulation. Alyn rocked them back and forth with the pads of his thumbs, like tiny joysticks. “Once we created them, we remembered the joys of physical intimacy. You reminded us…”

Meanwhile, Zed’s big hands were on her hips. He sank to his knees in front of her and dipped his tongue into her moist cleft. The ocean smell of her pussy filled her nostrils.

Christine was on the verge of surrender, but curiosity still gnawed at her. “If you can materialise yourselves this way,” she said, gasping as Zed grazed her clit, “why wander? Why not settle on some new planet, in new bodies? Why not people a new world?”

Zed ceased his ministrations and gazed up at her, his face shiny with her juices. “You don’t understand, sweet. As wonderful as it is to sink ourselves into you, to tease you and to make you come, these bodies limit us. Human eyes sense only a narrow slice of the electromagnetic spectrum. Human ears are tuned to only the grossest vibrations. We are used to full awareness, total sensation. Living in these bodies, for us, is like you wearing that bulky pressure suit. Every stimulus is muted by layers of matter.”

“Even sex in these bodies is limiting,” Alyn added. “If we could make love to you without the encumbrance of these flesh and blood shells—oh, you have no idea of the ecstasy we could experience together!”

“Maybe I do have some idea.” Christine turned to face him. “The last time we were together, I felt something—different. It’s hard to bring it back, now, but it felt as though we were floating in space. I wasn’t really aware of my pussy, my clit, my breasts, yet everything felt incredibly good. It was like I was inside my orgasm. But I wasn’t alone—I knew you were there, both of you. I could touch you, somehow, even though I had no hands. I could feel you, around me, inside me… That’s when I understood that you were something far beyond human…”

She broke off, noticing that Alyn was staring at her in amazement.

“I knew something special had happened but I didn’t realise…” Zed murmured behind her.

“You slipped free!” Alyn spoke slowly, his voice full of wonder. “Oh, Christine!” He released her and sank back into his chair.

Christine looked from one of her lovers to the other. “If I did it once… Zed, Alyn—you left your bodies behind eons ago. Can you teach me how?”

Zed’s face darkened. “There’s some danger, sweet. If you leave your corporeal form, setting your astral self loose, there’s always a chance that you won’t be able to return.”

She offered them her hands. Alyn and Zed took firm hold. Their eyes, amethyst and jet, sparkled with excitement. She kissed one, then the other, long and deep.

“To be with you—truly with you—that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Chapter Six

Christine lay on the table in the mess hall, feeling silly. Zed had piled mattresses from several of the cabins on the hard surface, then arranged her on top of the heap like a sacrificial lamb on an altar.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“I’m great. But what difference does it make? I thought the goal was for me to leave this body behind.”

“We want you to relax completely—to stop thinking about your body. Last time it was extreme pleasure that pulled you out, but this time we want to try another method. Meditation is more predictable and easier to control.”

“Are you ready?” asked Alyn, peering into her face.

“As much as I’ll ever be,” she answered, resolutely ignoring her twinge of fear. So what if she couldn’t return to her body. This body didn’t have much of a future anyway.

Zed clambered on to the table and straddled her torso just below her breasts. His cock, rigid once again, nestled in the valley between them. She licked her lips at the sight. Moisture trickled out from her sex, dampening the mattress.

“This not exactly the way to get me to forget about my body,” she laughed. “Every time I look at your cock, my pussy gets wetter and my clit gets harder.”

“Sorry!” Zed joined her laughter. “You have that effect on me. But let me see what I can do.” He closed his eyes, turning inward. His form seemed to shimmer. The effect was gone so quickly that Christine wondered if she had imagined it. In any case, his penis deflated until it flopped, limp and innocent, across her ribcage. “Is that better?”

“Better? Well, it’s certainly less distracting!”

“Alyn, turn off the lights.” The room grew dim. The control panel in the kitchen area provided the only illumination. Zed’s face hovering above her was wreathed in shadow.

He cupped his hands in front of his chest, about six inches apart, as though he were holding a ball the size of a grapefruit. “Relax. Take deep, slow breaths,” he told her. “Focus on the space between my palms.”

Christine struggled to let go of the arousal that was raising her pulse rate and making her pant. She closed her eyes for a moment to centre herself, then followed Zed’s instructions. Initially she saw nothing but Zed’s burnished muscles through the gap between his hands. Before long, though, she noticed that the empty space was occupied by a faint glow. The light brightened gradually and congealed into three luminous strands that twined together, rotating at a stately pace in an ascending spiral. The filaments were born near his wrists, coiled upward and disappeared at his fingertips, in a smooth, endless flow.

“Concentrate on the light,” Zed murmured. “Follow the light.”

The slow-moving helix fascinated her. Her eyes traced its path as it emerged out of nowhere, rose and vanished. At first the streaks of brightness appeared pure white, but as she focused she noticed tiny flecks of colour: amethyst in one, gold in another, ruby in the third. Like jewel dust the motes danced in the beams until they reached the upper limit and winked out of existence.

She could feel Alyn’s presence, off to her left, and could sense his concern. She knew Zed was watching her with those piercing jet eyes. Willing herself not to look at them, she trained her full attention on the hypnotic pillar of light. She dove into it, circling endlessly upward, spiralling into non-existence at the apex then regenerating at the base.

Christine forgot the two men. There was only the light, swirling, pulsing, drawing her ever deeper. The light rippled through her like pure water. The strands curled around her like laughter. Golden flames licked at her flesh without burning. Fingers of brightness soothed and teased her, kindling shimmers of delight.

“Christine!” Her name was a bolt of radiance, arrowing through the glow. “We are here with you.” It was true—their auras mingled with hers. Sparkling ribbons of silver and copper wreathed her presence, a crimson crystal beating in the velvet darkness. She knew them—Zed and Alyn, her attentive, untiring lovers—but now she saw how their gorgeous man-shapes were mere shells. Their full glory would have blinded her, if she had eyes. In her present state, unfettered by the limitations of her poor human senses, she saw them as they truly were: perfect, ageless, unutterably beautiful.

“I did it,” she said, or thought, or sang. Pride twined purple through the rainbow emotions that swirled around them. “Now I understand.” In their shared universe of flickering luminescence, she reached out to draw them closer.

“Lover,” came a bell-like song she recognised as Alyn. “Now we can truly be together.” His caress woke fireworks. Without a body, she felt the pleasure everywhere. It was searing heat, aching fullness, marvellous tension, buoyant joy.

“Darling.” Zed was a rich chord arcing through her, a rain of sparks that made her tingle and glow. He brought wetness, tightness, electric twinges that burned through her. The sensations recalled physical responses despite her disembodiment, except for their overwhelming intensity. She swelled and throbbed with need, wanting her lovers closer, inside her somehow, though she didn’t know how this could be possible. Before she could voice her desire, she felt their energy encircle and penetrate hers. Multi-hued pleasure exploded in her consciousness.

“Touch us,” Alyn sang, winding through her, drilling into her core.

“Open us,” Zed hummed, flowering incandescent at her centre. “Your mind is limitless.”

She reached into the luminous emptiness and allowed her thoughts to mesh with theirs. Now she thrilled with their sensations and emotions as well as her own. The connection should have been shocking, but somehow it felt completely natural. Alyn’s shy hunger and Zed’s raw lust seasoned her own arousal. The pleasure that shivered through them as she danced in their minds rocked her senses as well. Delight reflected back and forth. Each of them mirrored and amplified the others’ ecstasy.

Below these present-focused elements, Christine caught echoes of the aliens’ age-old pain and loneliness. She gathered Alyn and Zed into her self, singing liquid songs of comfort. Love wove its way into their shared tapestry of feeling, gleaming pure white among the lustrous strands of scarlet, emerald, turquoise and amber.

Peace, someone sang. Power, rang another voice. Pleasure, called a third. Their perfect harmony swelled. They twined together, spiralling upward, so intimately joined that none could say where one of them ended and the next began.

Christine sensed the shift this time. The universe burst open, drenching them in the brilliance of a million suns. Unutterable joy surged through her—and Zed, and Alyn. Their climax was hers as well. Their coming released energy. Hers absorbed it. She felt the exquisite pleasure of their emptying along with the deep satisfaction of being filled. That incandescent instant burned away the last traces of separateness and fused the three of them into one being—a bodiless embodiment of pure light.

They floated in a nurturing void. Sorrow, pain, doubt, all had been stripped away. All that remained was love.

* * * *

Stars. Christine returned to individual awareness to find herself surrounded by a million points of light. Were they in fact really stars? Instead of the mostly colourless sparks she was used to, these bodies blazed red, violet, orange, even blue, against the black backdrop. What else could they be, though? One of them seemed quite close, a glowing yellow ball off to her right. When she focused her attention on it, she could see planets orbiting the star, at least half a dozen of them.

Where was she? And where were her lovers? In the aftermath of their shared bliss, she felt little anxiety. All would be well. She trusted that she’d find them.

She returned her consideration to the nearest sun. Somehow it exerted a powerful attraction. All at once she was there, a mote of consciousness hovering within the solar system itself. She pushed aside the question of mechanism. She’d figure it out later.

One of the planets swung close enough for her to catch glimpses of the surface through intermittent clouds. The familiar shapes of the continents tugged at her memory for a moment before the truth hit her. Earth. She was hanging in space, a being of pure mind, looking at her home planet. Meanwhile, her body lay abandoned in a tiny space ship billions of miles away.

She had done it, without intending to. She had twisted space and travelled faster than light, just as Zed and Alyn had described. But how? And how was she going to get back to them, and to her body?

She turned her gaze inwards, away from the vision of Earth. Intuition as well as training told her there were other dimensions. She probed and tested the fabric of space time, finding whorls and wrinkles. Which ones were passages to other parts of the universe, though? Was it possible to create the necessary conduits as needed?

Christine brought up images of the equations she knew so intimately, the ones with which she had struggled for so many years with so little success. Immediately she saw transpositions and reductions she’d never noticed before. Perhaps material bodies blunted the intelligence as well as the senses. What was it Zed had told her? Take matter out of the equation and everything became simple.

She flicked mentally at the symbols, tumbling them into a new arrangement. Amazement flooded her, followed by triumph. There it was—crystal clear and astonishingly easy, at least if you happened to be a being of energy.

Imagine where you wanted to go, and you’d be there. That’s what the equations told her. Hard to believe and yet so sensible. Energy organised and animated matter. Consciousness added the ability to materialise objects—that was the secret behind Zed’s and Alyn’s physical bodies. An act of deliberate imagination was an act of creation, for pure intelligence. There was no movement, actually. Mathematically speaking, you were disassembling and reassembling the universe around you.

Some part of her must have been thinking about Earth during that transcendent instant of union with Alyn and Zed. Without fully intending it, she had arrived at the threshold of her old home. To return to her body, she needed to summon a clear image of the Archimedes, and of her lovers.

Alyn. Zed. Her coupling with them as an energy being had been incredible, but she still craved their physical bodies. She remembered Alyn’s silky skin, his dancer’s build, his pale, smooth cock like a pillar of ivory. She added Zed to her mental picture, stocky and powerful, black curls tumbling over his brow, black eyes challenging her, bronzed erection jutting from his groin like some massive tree branch. Arousal clearly was more than physical. The more details she added, the more excited she became. Finally she pictured her vacant form, lying on the mess hall table, awaiting her return.

There was no sensation of motion. She simply found herself on the Archimedes, hovering near the ceiling of the dining chamber and gazing down at her own body. She’s pretty, Christine thought. She has lovely chestnut hair.

Then an irresistible force claimed her, sucking her downward. She slammed into her material body and blacked out.

Chapter Seven

A siren rang in Christine’s ears. She tried to ignore it. She was so tired—she just wanted to sleep a bit longer. The persistent whine refused to go away. With a sigh, she forced her eyes open.

The alarm wailed in the long-short-short pattern that meant emergency. The mess hall was mostly dark, but a red beacon flashed in the corner. Christine sniffed the air. It smelt stale and she thought she detected a hint of smoke.

She swung herself off of the table, noting that every muscle ached. The room was empty. Where were Alyn and Zed?

“Report ship’s status,” she called, loud enough to be heard above the alarm. There was no answer. Then she remembered. She’d switched off the computer’s voice functions.

She clambered up to the bridge. There was no sign of her lovers. The viewport was still open, offering an unchanging view of star-strewn space. Heedless of her nakedness, Christine punched in the code to reactivate the ship’s communication capabilities.

“Report ship’s status,” she demanded, her voice shrill with anxiety.

“Serious hull breach in section B-7,” the computer replied, calm and mechanical as always. “Bulkheads have been sealed to slow atmospheric loss.”

“Oh shit,” Christine muttered.

“Electrical fire in port engine now extinguished. Engine shut down to avoid radiation leakage. Major fracture detected in tail structure…”

“What? What happened? Did something hit us?”

“No collision detected.” The ship paused for a second or two, as if to allow her to interrupt again. “Estimate that tail section will separate in one to three hours. Additional fractures detected in sections C-2, C-5 and D-4. Recommend immediate evacuation.”

Christine sank into the pilot’s seat, overwhelmed. Evacuation? To where? The ship had an escape shuttle, but it was intended for use in the vicinity of a planet, not in deep space.

What was she going to do? And what had happened to Alyn and Zed?

As if summoned by her desperate thoughts, the aliens appeared on the control deck, Alyn to the left of her, Zed to the right. She rushed into Alyn’s embrace. He stroked her hair, holding her tight. After a moment of self-indulgent surrender, she pushed him away.

“What’s going on? Where were you?” she demanded.

“Checking the damage from the outside,” said Zed.

“But why…? Did something happen while—while we were making love?”

Alyn shook his head, his face grave. “No—not then…” He seemed too upset to continue.

“Then when? Please, tell me!”

“Our best guess is that this is a delayed effect,” Zed answered, stumbling over his words. “The stresses of the initial collision—when we emerged at the same space-time coordinates as your ship and then your ship was whisked through hyperspace—as I said before, I was surprised there had been so little damage…”

He looked thoroughly unhappy. Sympathy and concern drowned Christine’s anger. She took him in her arms, planting soft kisses on his lips and brow. “Oh, Zed! You couldn’t help it.”

Alyn came up behind her, pressing his lean form into her back and sandwiching her between them. “We are responsible nevertheless,” he murmured. Christine noticed that, for once, he was not erect.

“Oh, my darlings…” She clung to them, feeling safe even though she knew, intellectually, that her life was ticking away. The warmth of their skin against hers, the firmness of their muscles, their earthy scent—it was sweet, regardless of what came after. She would have been glad to have them take her, there on the floor of the bridge. She wanted to spend her last hours joined with the men she loved.

It was clear, though, that sex was the last thing on their minds. Finally, she released them. They sat in a triangle, gazing at each other in silence.

A thud shook the bridge. “What was that?” Christine cried.

“Microwave antenna three has separated from the ship,” the computer intoned. Sure enough, they could see a hunk of debris tumbling off into space to the left of the ship. “New breach in hull at section F-2. Bulkhead sealed.”

Alyn rose from his seat. “We don’t have long, Christine. We’ve got to decide what to do.”

“Do? What can we do?” Christine scanned their grim faces. “Do you have a plan?”

“We see two possibilities.” Zed took her hands in his. “It’s up to you.”

“Really? There’s hope? What are you thinking?”

“We could put you in the shuttle and send you back to Earth,” said Alyn.

“But—the range of the shuttle…”

“We’d send you through hyperspace.”

“How? You told me that transporting matter at faster-than-light speeds requires vast amounts of energy. We don’t have any kind of fuel that can generate that kind of power.”

“We are creatures of energy, sweet,” Zed said. “We’ll be the ‘fuel’.”

Christine was silent, contemplating this. “You’d be consumed,” she said finally. “You’d cease to exist.”

Alyn nodded, a sad smile lighting his face. “That is true. But you would live. To us, that is more important, especially when it is we who are to blame for the destruction of your ship and the death of your friends.”

“No. I won’t allow it. I don’t want to live if you two die.” She grabbed their hands. “I never believed I’d find someone—someone to complete me the way you do. I never dreamed of meeting one soulmate, let alone two! The thought of losing that, losing you…no! Definitely not. What is the other possibility?”

“Well,” said Zed. “You could abandon your physical body, the way we did ours. Join us in our travels through the universe. Become pure light, as we are.”

“Abandon my body?” Christine remembered the intensity of her experience as an energy being, but the details were fuzzy, veiled by the limitations of flesh. She recalled her moment of insight, when she’d solved the space-time equations, but not the solution itself.

She had been willing to risk the separation in order to connect with Alyn and Zed on a higher level, but that had been temporary. She had expected to return to the physical plane. Now they were suggesting she make the separation permanent.

She cast her eyes down over her body—neat breasts tipped with taut pink nipples, flat stomach and lean thighs, the triangle of chestnut curls at the apex. Her body had served her well. Was she ready to let it go? Would she still be Christine Clarkson, without this body? If not, who would she be?

This body was doomed, though. Even if the ship were not tearing itself apart, how long would she live, out here in space? Indeed, even if she’d never left Earth, this body would not have lasted more than a century at best.

They were offering virtual immortality. Even more important, they were offering her love. How could she possibly hesitate?

“Yes,” she told them, gazing into their eyes and hoping she sounded brave. “That’s the only solution. But how…?”

“Lie back in the chair. Let us pleasure you. We’ll give you an orgasm so intense you’ll fly free, the way you did before. Once your spirit separates from your flesh, we’ll whisk you away from the ship.”

A sound of tortured metal reached their ears. “Rear robot arm…” the computer began.

“I don’t want to know,” Christine snapped, stabbing at the switch. The mechanical voice fell silent. “Let’s do it,” she urged. “Now!”

She settled into Sven’s seat, arranging herself as comfortably as possible. With a grin, Zed flipped a lever until the back reclined. He leaned over to brush his lips over hers. His dusky cock reared up from the thicket at his groin, ready to fuck her so hard he’d drive her soul from her body. The sight—and the thought—made her instantly wet.

It was Alyn who began, though, kneeling between her splayed thighs and tonguing her throbbing clit. He poured his energy into her. Pure electricity arced through her flesh. She groaned and arched up, grinding her pussy against his face. In response, Alyn grasped her hips and burrowed deeper. He probed and sucked until she shuddered and burst, coming in great spasms.

The world flickered as pleasure poured through her. Something tugged at her insides, like a trapped animal trying to break free. But matter held her fast. Alyn continued to lick her as the trembling faded, and she started to climb again.

Meanwhile, Zed bent over her prone form, plunging his tongue into her mouth while teasing her nipples into aching peaks. She was on fire even before he transferred his mouth to her breasts. His teeth closed on the swollen nubs at the same instant Alyn nipped at her rigid clit. Pain morphed into unbearable delight.

Alyn brushed a fingertip across her anus. The knot in her belly coiled tighter. He wriggled inside. The lewd intrusion triggered a wave of bliss. Everything unravelled, whipping her into a glorious new crisis.

Light cradled her, but only for an instant. Her body was fighting back, unwilling to release her. She moaned in frustration.

A drop of liquid touched her lips. “Open,” Zed murmured, his magnificent cock inches from her face. She pursed her lips around the bulb, licking off the fluid that gathered there, then yielded to his pressure and swallowed the rigid stalk of flesh. He tasted of salt, sweat and dried cum. He tasted human. His thrusts were firm but measured, giving her time to appreciate the velvet texture of his cock-skin and the inexorable hardness underneath.

She fondled Zed’s balls while he ploughed her mouth. Meanwhile, Alyn was busy below her waist. With uncharacteristic force, he hauled her to the edge of the seat and pressed her thighs back towards her shoulders. He held her there for long moments, open and exposed. She felt the tension build. Juices trickled from her cleft down to her tingling rear hole. The round knob of Alyn’s cock rubbed against her sphincter and she braced herself for penetration. At the last minute, though, he seemed to change his mind. Pulling back, he sank his cock deep into her soaked pussy.

Ah! She moaned around Zed’s cock. He took that as a signal to pump harder. Christine didn’t mind. She sucked with all her might, wanting to taste his cum, aware in some corner of her mind that this might be her last chance to do so.

Alyn drove into her in a strong, even rhythm. His cock danced inside her, waking every nerve. Christine clenched her muscles around his hardness. He swelled in response. Pleasure rippled through her as she was filled and emptied, above and below. She had come twice already but that didn’t seem to matter. Her body was hungry for more.

Every thrust pushed Christine closer to the edge. She couldn’t reach it, though. She wanted it too much—not just the pleasure but the freedom they’d promised her. What if she couldn’t do it, couldn’t break loose the way she had before? She didn’t care about dying, not much anyway. The thought of losing them, though, was a pain she could scarcely bear.

“Don’t worry, Christine.” Zed’s golden voice sliced through her anxious fog. “Relax, sweet. We love you. We’re not going to let you go.” He hadn’t actually spoken, but she’d heard him loud and clear.

“We are with you. All will be well.” Alyn’s silver tones sang in her mind, calming, soothing, even as he grunted between her legs. “We belong together, Christine.”

She let the tension flow out of her body. I love you, she broadcast, her mouth full of cock-flesh. I trust you. Take me where I need to go.

Their bodies answered. Both men quickened their pace. Her hands gripped Zed’s thighs as he drove his cock down her throat. When his muscles tensed, her spirit soared. Come, my love, she telegraphed. Please come.

He shuddered. His rod jerked against her tongue, then he exploded, flooding her with his bitter fluid. She swallowed hungrily, eager for every drop.

Zed was still spurting when Alyn yelled and buried himself to the hilt in her pussy. She felt the pulse in his cock as he emptied himself into her depths. Yes, she exulted, her mouth still busy with her other lover. Yes, my darling.

Joy swelled in her chest until she thought she’d burst. She didn’t care what happened next. They were together now. Zed and Alyn had given her everything they had. Nothing else mattered.

All at once, without warning, she was tumbling into climax herself. Pleasure welled up from deep within, in shimmering waves that crested and broke and crested again. Rainbow veils danced before her eyes. Her body was liquid, molten, surging with each new eruption of bliss. The world dissolved, leaving her spinning in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

Through it all, she felt Zed and Alyn holding her close, keeping her safe. She might have been terrified by the intensity, but as sensation racked her, she knew she was not alone.

Silence. Stillness. Peace. Blackness surrounded and cradled her. She was not afraid.

Zed sang to her, flashing copper and gold through the dark. She laughed. Alyn wound around her, through her, a strand of glittering crystal. The three of them circled each other, spiralling higher, in an endless dance of love.

* * * *

Christine hung in space. Alyn and Zed were with her, as they would always be from now on. Below them, the Archimedes disintegrated in graceful slow motion. A crack opened along the top. Gases swirled out, freezing into icy clouds on contact with the frigid vacuum. A hunk of debris fell away, spinning lazily into the void.

“Let’s not watch anymore,” Christine said. “You’ve already seen one world destroyed.”

“Where should we go?” Zed asked. “Back to Earth?”

“No, there’s nothing left there for us. But I know another planet, in the Sirius B system. We could settle there for a while.”

“You want a new body.” Alyn laughed in her mind. “You miss being material.”

“Perhaps a bit. But, mostly, I want us to have children. We can’t do that as bodies of light. I want to people a new world and teach our children how to care for it.”

“We can’t unmake the past.” Christine caught the sombre note in Zed’s thoughts.

“Of course not. But we can create any number of brilliant futures.”

She summoned the images from her memory to show them. “The planet is here.”

They slipped into a crack between dimensions. Joined.

About the Author

I became addicted to words at an early age. I began reading when I was four. I wrote my first story at five years old and my first poem at seven. Since then, I’ve written plays, tutorials, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and of course, erotica and erotic romance. I’m the author of six erotic novels and three short story collections, as well as dozens of shorter works. I also edited the ground breaking anthology SACRED EXCHANGE, which explores the spiritual aspects of BDSM relationships, and the massive collection CREAM: THE BEST OF THE EROTIC READERS AND WRITERS ASSOCIATION. I am responsible for editing the charity erotica series COMING TOGETHER PRESENTS. I also review books and films for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and Erotica Revealed, and feature as a Celebrity Author at Custom Erotica Source.

My lifelong interests in sex and the written word became serendipitously entwined about a decade ago when I read my first Black Lace book by Portia da Costa. Her work inspired me to take my fantasies out of the closet (and the private email files) and expose them to the world. The rest, as they say, is history (although granted, no more than a minor footnote!)

I’ve always loved travelling; my husband seduced me in a Burmese restaurant by telling me tales of his foreign adventures. Since then I have visited every continent except Australia, although I still have a long travel wish list. Currently I live with him and our two exceptional felines in Southeast Asia, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.

Email: lisabet@lisabetsarai.com

Lisabet loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Lisabet Sarai

Fire in the Blood

Necessary Madness

Truce of Trust

Serpent’s Kiss

Incognito

Raw Silk

Yule Be Mine: Almost Home

Master Me: The Understudy

Gaymes: Crossed Hearts

Christmas Spirits: Tomorrow’s Gifts

Brits in Time: Shortest Night

Brit Party: Monsoon Fever

Bound Brits: Getaway Girl

Halloween Heart-throb: Rendezvous

THE SEVARIAN WAY

Justine Elyot

Dedication

To lovers of space exploration and BDSM everywhere, especially Tricia

Chapter One

It wasn’t the danger Suka had a problem with, nor was it the workload. She was easily bright enough to handle the multiple data streams that poured into her Communicatex every parsec of every timeslice. In fact, she had graduated at the top of her class in the Academy, which had greatly contributed towards her selection for the crew of the Ulysses IV.

No, what Suka struggled with was the rules. Endless, relentless regulations to follow and obey, seemingly pointless, in many cases. There were rules about bedtimes, rules about how much to eat, rules about uniform, rules about socialising, rules about how to address officers of various ranks within the starship. Suka had always been one for following the spirit, rather than the letter, of the law, and this tendency was making the voyage one of low-level misery rather than exciting discovery for her.

Even more galling than the rules themselves was their enforcement by one Commander Azed Paul, a man with whom the toss was impossible to argue. Commander Paul was accustomed, over several turbulent years in the outer rim of the Spaelian Galaxies, to running the tightest of ships. One speck of lint on an officer’s skintight dermolex trousers would be noted and remarked upon. He had found and destroyed Suka’s box of contraband sugarfizz within one hour of her embarkation. His motto was ‘discipline or doom’. Suka was inclined to favour doom just now.

She crouched low over her monitor, hoping that her apparent commitment to it would make her invisible to Commander Paul. Her hair, tightly braided now after an earlier contretemps over ‘professionally appropriate styles’, pulled at the skin above her ears and temples every time she hunched a little further down. She knew he was going to mention her confiscated glowstick at some point, but she really didn’t see what was so wrong with a bit of reading in bed. Was she supposed to abandon all her extraneous interests in life, sacrifices to the efficient running of the ship? It was too big a thing to expect of a twenty-two-year-old woman.

Paul was busy, bent over the shoulder of another ensign, her friend Callil, checking that every machine powering this heap of junk was correctly calibrated. From across the bridge, his backside in the figure-hugging uniform pants drew her eye in an irritatingly irresistible fashion. Whatever else she might think of him, she couldn’t deny he had one of the finest arses in the Quadrant.

Suddenly, he straightened up and spun on his boot heel, catching her in her mildly lustful musings. Suka’s head dropped so swiftly she almost banged her forehead on the screen, but it was too late. His keen blue-glass eyes had registered her interest, and he smiled his broad, sharky grin before addressing her.

“Ensign Demontel, we need to discuss your reading habits,” he proclaimed, crossing past the banks of flashing hardware towards her station.

Immediately, she raised her chin in stubborn challenge, preparing to defend her position.

“Is reading against the rules now? I’m an anthropologist—if you expect me to abandon study of the very reason I’m on this voyage, then…” She broke off, unable to finish the sentence, fearfully reluctant to take it to its logical conclusion of ‘you’re a stupid bastard’.

“You know very well that reading isn’t against the rules. Reading after Lights Out is against the rules,” said Paul, his voice teasingly light. “As for anthropology, you have studied it for six years, and now you have the chance to put your knowledge into practice in the field. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it, Suka, or am I mistaken?”

“Yes, no, yes, when we’re cataloguing and analysing the new planets, that’s great. But all this in-between time…just drifting around in the vessel…it’s boring.”

Commander Paul stared for an uncomfortably lengthy few seconds.

“Boring, Ensign Demontel?” he said eventually. “Well, I’m so sorry not to provide you with the non-stop circus you evidently crave, but I thought you might have been prepared for the fact that space exploration requires a great deal of time in space. What do they teach you at the Academy these days?” He shook his head sadly before snapping into grim disciplinary mode. Suka always identified this by a locking of his jaw and a narrowing of his eyes. She swallowed, aware of her hair prickling her skin. “You won’t be seeing the glowstick until we return to port. And, for the remainder of this shift period, you will catch up on lost sleep by going to bed at the start of Association Time.”

“Oh, don’t make me miss Association Time!” wailed Suka, embarrassingly aware of how bratty and pathetic she sounded. “It’s the only thing to look forward to most days.”

“You can sulk all you like, Ensign,” said Paul briskly. “I won’t have deliberate rule-breaking in my crew, and the sooner you process that lesson, the better for you. I had such high hopes for you when I read your reference from the Academy, and I don’t take disappointment well.”

“Neither do I,” whispered Suka, half-hoping Paul wouldn’t hear her. The half-hope was in vain.

“I beg your pardon?” He turned back from the move towards the bridge front he had been beginning and fixed her eyes uncompromisingly with his.

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” she muttered.

“Yes, it does,” he said, deceptively gently. “What my crew thinks matters very much to me. Tell me.”

“It’s just, well, I thought I was joining an elite crew of enlightened intelligent explorers. I wasn’t prepared for Sparta in space.”

For a moment, Suka had the impression Paul was about to strike her. Her palms grew slippery and her breath retreated into indefinite suspension. The Commander, pale and impassive, seemed to be calculating how hard he should slap her. She had never seen him actually rattled before, and it unnerved her more than she could express.

The monitor began to bleep and flash, precipitating a huge exhalation from Suka. She put her trembling fingers to the keyboard.

“Paladium Three, Sir,” she managed to say, when speech was possible. “It’s within teleportation range now.”

His skin flushed back to a more normal shade and his eyes lost their glaze as he swung around the side of the monitor and crouched over the back of her chair, scanning the screen eagerly.

“Right. Paladium Three. Callil, the environmental checks have been run?”

“Yes, Sir. You’ll need an oxygen patch, mid-grade. As we know, all denizens are dead, so you won’t need diplomacy tools. Superficial check shows no active airborne threat to humans. I’m just running the full scan, Sir.”

Paul’s face drew closer to Suka’s, his breath fanning her cheek as he watched the satellite swoop lower, picking out sharp, focused images of the planet’s surface.

“It’s a recent ruin,” he commented. “Most of the buildings intact. You know what killed them, I take it?”

“Yep. Those hoodlums from the Chavian Belt, dropping toxic waste from their illegal dumper ships. Outrageous. They need sorting out.”

“Well, the Federation is doing its best, I gather. They aren’t an easy species to deal with. Out and out hedonists, no values, no discipline.”

His breath puffed against Suka’s skin, making it prickle and inducing a strange clenching between her thighs. Spoken so close to her ear like that, the word was irresistibly erotic to her. But Paul wasn’t to know that!

She straightened her stance in an effort to force him back. It didn’t work.

“Fascinating people, the Paladians. Did you study them at the Academy?”

“No,” admitted Suka. “I’ve read a little, though, recreationally.” She emphasised the last word, still angry at what struck her as heavy-handed punishment for a bit of light studying.

“Good.” Paul stood up, finally releasing her from the strange half-arousal his nearness had locked her into. “Because you’re coming down to surface level with me.”

Suka swivelled her chair around so quickly she almost knocked Paul off his feet.

“What?” she squeaked. “Are you serious?” Her breath gathered at the top of her lungs. All her life she had dreamed of surface-level exploration, but she knew it would be at least three years of slaving over hot monitors before she would get the opportunity.

“I need to make a decision on you,” explained Commander Paul. “Whether to keep you or let you go at the next port.”

“Oh.” Suka’s lungs collapsed. Was it really that serious? A tiny bit of stupid rule-breaking?

“If you can prove yourself down there, I’ll reconsider my opinion. You’ll need to show that you can demonstrate good space sense, intelligence and obedience. You’ll have to follow my orders without question. Is that clear?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll do it, you won’t regret it, I promise.”

Commander Paul chewed his lip assessingly. Suka didn’t realise until he spoke again that she had been clenching her fists so hard she had made half-moons in her palms.

“Right. Come on then. Let’s get saddled up and ready.”

Suka couldn’t resist a shining-eyed grin over at Callil on the way out of the bridge. She must be dying of jealousy! They had spent so many Association Times bemoaning the three-year rule. And now Paul—the ultimate Rule Freak—was breaking it. For her! It was unbelievable, but she wasn’t about to pinch herself. She was too excited for that.

“I’ve never been in here,” she chattered breathlessly as the Commander led her along the Prep Corridor to the Teleportation Suite.

“Of course not,” he said, with a sidelong smile at her visible giddiness. “You won’t need too much in the way of preparation. Aside from an oxygen patch, we don’t need special equipment for this environment. No masks or skin protection. They have a mild, Earth Sector III-like climate and it’s their equivalent of early autumn, so what we’re wearing now should be fine.”

“That’s good to know. I tried on a SkinShield once and it wasn’t a great look.”

Paul rolled his eyes. Suka wondered if he was regretting his impulse already and decided to hold back on the airy chit-chat.

“So the toxic cloud has dispersed then? Completely?”

“Yes, the final check didn’t pick anything up. You’ll like the Paladians. You’ll mourn their passing, I think. Incredible that such a cultured society should be wiped out by the intergalactic equivalent of those antisocial louts down the road. Makes you wonder about the future of the universe.”

“Yes,” said Suka soberly. “It does.”

They had reached the Teleportation Suite and Suka was being instructed to roll up her sleeve in readiness for the oxygen patch. The little round sticker was fixed to the crook of her elbow and she rolled her sleeve back down and watched Commander Paul as he raided various cupboards for measuring and information-gathering equipment. Once his small waist pack was full and secured to his belt, he gestured Suka forward, towards the Teleport Cubicle.

She experienced a nanosecond of hesitation. This thing was going to take her body apart, cell by cell, and reconstitute it on the planet’s surface. It was an intimidating thought. But it was that, or back to Sector III, to work in some sealed-up tax office forever more. Reconstitution it was.

Once inside the plexiglass booth, Suka was surprised when the remote and austere Commander Paul took hold of her hand and gripped it tight to his chest, as if to squeeze out every element of doubt or fear in her mind.

“The first time is daunting,” he said softly. “I remember it well. You’re safe with me, Ensign. Just shut your eyes and let it happen.”

She was shaking. She hadn’t even realised it, so full of trepidation and exultation had she been. Commander Paul’s comforting grip managed to send the right signals to her body, calming the worst of the shivers, bringing her into quiescence.

She let his warmth and stability flow into her through the pores of her skin, reassuring her until she was barely aware of anything else but the strength of his presence.

When the switch was flicked, she kept her eyes shut and clung on tight, feeling only a cramping disturbance in her stomach and groin area and a bit of pressure at the back of the neck before finding solid ground again, and different air in her lungs.

Her eyes flew open and she stared, laughing the slightly hysterical laugh of somebody who had just staggered off a particularly nauseating fairground ride.

“This is real!” she blurted between manic whoops.

“Calm down,” Paul advised her, holding her shoulders steady until she recovered her composure. “Take a deep breath. You’ll get used to it in time. Well, I hope so.”

“Sorry,” she said, subdued. “This isn’t very professional, is it?”

“Oh, all the ensigns do it,” Paul said with a smile, releasing her. “You should have seen Lieutenant Prentiss his first time. He threw up on my boots.”

Suka let a shout of laughter out. Lt Prentiss was an arrogant man who hated to show any sign of human vulnerability. “I can’t wait to tell Callil!” she crowed.

“Don’t!” said Paul firmly. “It’s our secret, Suka. It goes no further.”

She bit her lip, chastened, and took her first really comprehensive look around. The sky was almost like an Earth sky, except that it was overlaid with a sulphurous yellow tinge that bathed the landscape in a rather bleaching, unflattering light.

The ground they stood on was dry and patched with small areas of prickly scrub. Nothing of interest, except to their colleagues the space naturalists, but in the distance, about half a mile away, was a scene that both Suka and Paul thought very interesting indeed.

“Is that their capital city?”

“Sevarium,” confirmed Paul. “The walled city. I think you should see it. You would find it of particular interest.”

“Would I?” Suka frowned. “Why do you think that?”

Paul took her arm and began to steer her through the scrubby thorn bushes.

“I read your dissertation,” he said softly.

Suka stopped dead for a moment, quaking with horror. “You…did?” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“A few nights ago, I was pondering the thorny issue of your low-level rule-breaking, trying to come up with a strategy for dealing with it that wouldn’t disturb the workings of the crew or the ship too much. I had a read of your file. The title of your dissertation piqued my…curiosity, let’s say. I couldn’t resist logging on to the Academy’s archive and taking a look.”

It seemed she was expected to respond to this revelation in some coherent way, when gibbering was pretty much all she was capable of.

“Ah,” she said. “Did you…like it?”

“I found it excellent. Very well researched and eloquently argued.”

“It was a bit controversial. My supervisor almost refused to let me do it.”

“I don’t think she was right. I don’t think our society has taken the right path on that issue at all.”

“You don’t think urge-repression is a good thing?” Suka’s words fell over each other in their haste to get out.

“Not always. Not that kind of urge. Yes, to some of the more extreme ones—the harmful ones. But this was a consensual practice. It should never have been outlawed.”

“I’m…wow. I’ve never met anyone who agreed with me. All my friends were a bit freaked out when they read it.”

“Conditioning.” Paul shrugged. “Repression. Who knows? Your dissertation struck me for two reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“One, it showed that you have an original mind. You don’t accept without question—yes, I know that’s what I ask you to do, but the context is different.”

“And the other?”

“You wanted to write about the practice of BDSM in the first place. After the banning, its apologists and practitioners were hounded, seen almost in the same light as paedophiles. You had to be brave to take the subject on. And, to strike up that kind of courage, you had to have a personal interest. Am I right?”

“You’ll think I’m a freak,” muttered Suka.

“No. I promise I don’t think that. I do find it amusingly ironic that a person with such an aversion to authority…well…am I right? Or is it because you want to dominate?”

Suka caught her breath. “No! My dissertation was about the female submissive in bygone culture. I wrote about her because I felt close to her. I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this with you. I want the ground to open up…”

They were at the city walls now, ready to pass through its enormous gate of overarching black marble.

“I don’t,” said Paul softly, letting his grip on her arm tighten just a notch. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be exploring this city with.”

Suka looked up at him with vivid interest, searching for reflections of herself in him, for signs that she was not alone. She thought she could see them. Could she really see them? Was there really a man who…?

No. He was her commanding officer. It would be unethical anyway.

She turned her face away again.

“I can’t imagine why,” she said stonily.

“Oh, I think you can,” he said with an odd little sigh. “Come on then. Let’s see the sights of Sevarium.”

He dropped her arm, clapped his hands together decisively and strode beneath the archway at such a pace Suka had to trot to keep step with him.

“It’s a bit like ancient Rome,” she offered breathlessly, looking around what appeared to be a large public square, like a forum, walled on all sides by public buildings, the fourth side inset with a second black marble arch. Wide, wide stony space under an ochre sky, stretching out for a good half-mile square, was the introduction to Sevarium. The space was partitioned by the colour of the stone, like a less chequered chessboard, and Suka wondered aloud what this signified.

“Different usages,” said Paul, though it wasn’t clear whether this was a guess or a statement of fact. “You can see that that area with all the flags was probably a market of some kind. There’s a stage over in the far corner.”

They walked on, through the eerily empty expanse. Paladian bones were chemically constructed to dissolve and biodegrade, something Suka knew the Earth scientists were working to incorporate into humans. It was as if nobody had ever been here, Planet Marie Celeste. She felt nervousness at the pit of her stomach that wasn’t entirely down to the bizarre atmosphere of the dead metropolis. Commander Paul read my dissertation continued to flash through her mind in bright red alarm mode every now and then. He knows what I am.

They stopped at the top-left corner of the square, where a small platform acted as plinth to what looked like some kind of sculpture. Crafted from a smooth obsidian-like mineral, it mimicked the crude outline of a humanoid shape, dark legs travelling upwards in an inverse V to a broad flat torso, with arms raised. The only thing missing was the head—at neck height, a padded semicircular dip curtailed the body’s progress. Suka and Paul, once on the platform to examine the installation more closely, noticed thin leather straps dangled from the knees, waist and  wrists of the sculpture.

“You know what this is?” Paul turned to Suka, seemingly expecting her to supply the answer.

“I’m…not sure,” she hedged, though actually she had seen a picture of one of these in her copy of Peoples of the Outer Reaches. That chapter had been abandoned halfway through for Suka to dive beneath the covers and think about it in exquisite detail, fingers working busily inside her slicked sex lips.

“Yes, you are,” contradicted Paul, one hand travelling down the defenceless left arm of the headless statue. “You know exactly what this is.” He turned and grinned, challenging her. “Don’t disappoint me. You aren’t usually so coy.”

“It’s a whipping post,” said Suka, the thought of disappointing Paul somehow unbearable.

“That’s right. The nobility of Sevarium underwent an interesting form of training. They believed that, to demand service, you first needed to experience it. To rule, you needed to understand how it felt to be ruled. Men and women alike, it must be said. They were equal opportunities deviants.”

Suka laughed.

“Judging by the height of this, it was the women’s post. Tell me what you know about this aspect of Paladian society, Suka. What have you read?”

“Once a Paladian noble reached majority, they were put into the service of a Sevarian master or mistress. It was quite a harsh regime, I think. Training lasted three or four years…I can’t exactly remember. If they didn’t please the boss, they were whipped.”

“Good thing we don’t operate that policy on the Ulysses IV, eh?” Paul smiled. “Or is it?”

Suka’s cheeks burned. She was uncomfortably damp between her legs at the thought of standing on the whipping platform as it was, and her trousers felt too tight all of a sudden. If Paul was going to personalise all this, she was going to end up coming then and there, right in front of him. She wondered what the Federation penalty for that was. Nothing as exciting as a whipping, obviously.

Paul began searching the deck, looking for something he eventually found beneath a loose plank of the platform. It had an ornate, marbled handle and six stiff leather tails. A whip.

“Ah,” said the Commander, swishing the thing through the air.

Suka was transfixed. An actual whip. In the Commander’s hands, it looked so deadly and sexy that her knees began to feel as if they might give way. She held on to the sculpture, wrapping an arm around its waist for support.

“Commander Paul,” she ventured faintly, pressing her body into the cool, sleek embrace of the whipping post.

“Mm-hmm?” he replied absently, running fascinated fingers along the whip strands, curling them around and around.

“Are we…observable? From the Ulysses?”

He looked up sharply. “No. This is a low-risk mission. Visual satellite link has not been enabled.”

“I see.” She fitted her chin over the padded neck rest. Exactly the right height.

“Why?” Paul’s arch question hung in the air, seemingly laden with hope to Suka’s oversensitive ears.

She spread her legs to fit the sculpture’s inverse V and raised her arms up, pressed in a close embrace with the whipping post. It felt too good, wickedly good. She knew she ought to take a step back, recover her wits and ignore her senses, but this was too intoxicating to resist. She was a young Paladian noblewoman, in the service of a strict lord who looked highly reminiscent of Commander Paul…and she had failed in her duties…and now the price must be paid…in front of the populace. There they would stand, all around her, munching on hot snacks from the nearby market, jostling and catcalling, remarking on her physical attributes.

Her master would approach, whip in hand, and then…

She flinched as something—it could only be the handle of the whip—came to rest at the small of her back.

“Suka.” Paul’s voice, in her ear, saying her given name, was so intimate that she shivered. “I asked you a question. Why did you ask whether we could be seen?”

She gripped the top of the model, where the hands were meant to rest, and thought that, perhaps if she wasn’t looking directly at Paul, she might be able to say this.

“Because I can’t help thinking…this chance will never come again…”

“You may well be right. But I’m your commanding officer. If it ever gets out that I—”

“It won’t. It wouldn’t. Ever.”

“And I have certain principles to which I must adhere. I can’t just go giving in to my base desires.”

“Just this once…”

“Especially with an ensign. It’s an abuse of power. An abuse of privilege.”

“I want you to abuse your power. I will do anything if you’ll just abuse your power, just today, just this once, please.”

“Then ask me for it. There must be no ambiguity at all. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Please whip me, Sir. Please tie me to this thing and whip me hard.”

“All right,” he whispered, bending to strap her legs to the post. “I can do that.”

Suka could hear the roar of the phantom crowd as her wrists and waist were firmly secured. Probably in Paladian practice her bottom would be bared, but Commander Paul did not go so far as that, leaving the thin, skin-tight trousers in position—not that their super-lightweight microfibres would afford much protection.

She tried to regulate her breathing, but the sound of Paul’s boots pacing up and down the platform behind her was making her pussy convulse and her hips squirm and writhe against their bonds. Oh, please, get on with it, she pleaded silently, but at the same time, the way he drew out the anticipation was so deliciously cruel she found herself getting even hotter.

“So then, Ensign,” he said gently, and Suka felt the faint tickle of those leather strands travelling across her bottom, making her squeak. “We have issues to address, don’t we?”

“Yes, Sir,” she exhaled.

“Disobedience will not be tolerated in my service. I am going to show you what your petty rebellions have earned you. I hope the lesson will be learned. Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The maddening tickles withdrew and there was a moment of pure tension before the air sang with the sound of flying leather then a starburst of heated sting lit up Suka’s behind.

“Ahh,” she cried brokenly, finding the sensation at once better and worse than her imagination had prepared her for. She worked hard on processing and assessing it, letting the burn sink into her skin before she came to her final conclusion.

Paul held back. “Yes?” he murmured. “More?”

She nodded. “Please. More.”

Then he did not hold back. The lash fell again and again on Suka’s tautly-clothed rear, opening the door of the chamber she had considered forbidden for so long, letting her sensual self out of its prison. Simultaneously she blessed and cursed Paul’s strength, stamina and disciplinarian determination. He left no portion of her bottom or thighs unscathed, whipping the strands with expert precision from the crest of her buttocks to the tops of her knees, searing the tender skin until Suka feared it might crack, so tight and swollen did it feel.

As the lash fell, so did Suka, into a maelstrom of passionate submission from which she was not sure she could ever emerge. This was life now, this was her—one helpless subject, beneath her master’s whip hand.

It took a few moments for her to realise he had stopped. Her bottom and thighs continued to pulse with urgent heat and she had writhed herself into exhausted passivity. She wondered why her face was wet then realised she had been crying. She hung, loose and infinitely relaxed in her bonds, finally understanding the meaning of the word catharsis.

Paul’s hand landed on her shoulder, light and reassuring.

“Did I go too far?” he asked abruptly, beginning to untie her.

“No,” she gasped. “No. Oh no.”

Once untethered, she collapsed into his arms, seeking a comfort he seemed to provide instinctively, holding her close and burying his face in her hair, letting the tears flow until the sobs subsided and she lay, quiet and peaceful, in his embrace.

“I think I got a bit carried away,” he said with a rueful little catch in his voice. “I’m sorry if I—”

“No, you don’t have to be sorry. I know what I’ve been missing now. Something amazing. I’m so grateful to you. So grateful, and I’ll never forget it.”

“Shh,” he soothed, tightening his hold on her. “It’s me who should be thanking you. I’m the one who should be grateful.”

“Hmm?” She looked up at him, daring to hope this hadn’t all been a little treat for her sole benefit.

“We’re mirror images of each other, Suka, when it comes to these practices. Do you think I didn’t enjoy that—more than I legally should? Eh?” He smiled indulgently, and a little fearfully. “What you like to receive, I like to give. Always have. Urge-repression will never change that.”

“Really? You’re a, you know, what they used to call a…dom?”

His apparent embarrassment was so endearing to Suka she felt a rush of emotion for the man she had cursed and reviled for the past months.

“I can’t deny it,” he said. “When they finally perfect time-travel, I’ll be first in the queue at the dungeons.”

Suka giggled. “You’d have to hold me back.”

“Believe me, it would be a pleasure.”

They maintained wry eye-contact, glowing at each other, neither quite ready to say the thing they were both thinking.

“So, have you done that before?” Suka asked.

“Not on a human person,” he admitted. “Not outside my imagination.”

“You seemed quite the expert.”

“I’ve studied widely.” He patted her bottom. “How does it feel?”

“Very sore.” She sighed contentedly. “Gorgeously so. It…” She held herself back. Even given the powerful emotional experience they had just shared, she was not about to tell her commanding officer that his whipping her had made her insanely horny.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just…it was nice. I wish we could do it again. I mean, I could do it again.” She corrected herself swiftly, but Paul had stiffened and released her from his embrace.

He shrugged. “If only,” he said neutrally.

Shit, now he thinks I’ve got a crush on him, thought Suka, cross at herself. But I have. Oh, stars. I really have. The way he did that…the way he whipped me…oh, I want him. I really want him. Oh, this is awful. I wish I’d never come down now.

“Well,” said Paul briskly, putting the whip in his belt beside the landing pack. “That’s one way of introducing yourself to the local customs. Shall we look further?”

Chapter Two

Suka dusted herself down, still naggingly aware of the tug of need for Paul at her crotch, but determined to ignore it. Difficult when your arse was hotter than Mercury and every step caused friction between the unforgiving fabric of your trousers and the smouldering surface of your behind, but it had to be done.

“Right,” she said. “What is that building over there? Is it a temple of some kind? A religious edifice?”

“Let’s see, shall we?”

He strode a few paces ahead of her, so she could not help feasting her eyes on the broad shoulders, the strong back, the long booted legs and the perfectly-shaped behind in front of her. The head of close-cropped hair made her want to reach up and run her fingers across its prickling fuzz. Everything about him seemed designed to torment her with unassuageable lust. The universe hated her—it was official.

She concentrated on shaking herself free of these inconvenient longings by taking a keen interest in her unusual surroundings.

The building they were entering was made of something a little like marble but with a glow about it. Before Paul and Suka reached the top of the steps, Suka was stopped in her tracks by a feeling.

When Paul turned around to look at her, Suka knew he felt it too.

“This is…what’s this then?” she asked helplessly. She had a violent urge to drape herself around Paul’s neck and cling on to him.

“This must be the coupling place,” said Paul, visibly struggling to keep control of himself. “One of the little tricks the Paladians had—infusing building materials with emotion traces. Their cultural signature, if you like. Or one of them, at least.”

“When you enter this building you feel—”

“Love. Erotic love. Romantic love.”

Suka had not noticed herself doing it, but she had managed to wrap herself up in the crook of one of Paul’s powerful arms. Her head rested against his chest as she lifted her eyes to his.

“It’s like a spell,” she murmured.

“I know,” he said, bending his head lower until his lips were close, so close. But he tore them away in time. “We can’t do anything about it until we leave. Perhaps we shouldn’t go inside.”

“Oh, we should,” gasped Suka, putting a hand to Paul’s cheek, the physical connection of skin on skin almost knocking her off her feet.

“It’s not your call, Suka,” he said, but his voice was a croon now, low and deep, his chest vibrating against her ear. He was losing this fight.

“Think of the book I could write,” she marvelled.

He gave in and pulled her into the vast chamber with its jewelled ceiling and fragrance of musk.

“This was where Paladians would have their weddings,” said Suka, her arms around Paul’s neck now, their foreheads bumping.

“Yes.” His breath warmed her ear and neck. “All the congregation would come together in the spirit of love and passion, to celebrate the joining of the couple.”

“Come together…literally?” Suka’s hand had found its way to Paul’s backside. Paul grabbed one of her thighs and lifted it so her leg was hooked around his and a convenient resting place for his hardening cock was provided.

“Yes. The Paladian concept of a good wedding party was an orgy.”

“I kind of love these people. I wish they hadn’t died out.”

“I might have settled here.” Paul’s words poured directly into Suka’s ear now, hot and savage with lust. “I might have brought you with me.”

“Oh lord.” Suka sighed blissfully, though the tiny part of her that retained its rationality wondered with unease whether it was just the erotically-charged stone speaking. “I would have come.”

“You most definitely would,” he agreed, and his hands stroked down the curve of Suka’s back until they met the swell of her bottom, still burning sorely from the whipping, so that she winced when his palms rested there.

“So.” Suka shuddered, feeling she should probably look up from Paul’s chest and take in her surroundings, but somehow unable to do so. “Talk me through the Paladian coupling ritual.”

“Mmm, okay,” he said. With an effort of will, he unwound Suka from his body and led her to the raised dais at the centre of the chamber. “Let’s say we’re the happy couple. We come up here, where the crowds can see us properly.”

They climbed the steps and stood in front of a piece of furniture resembling an altar, but with padding, all covered in richly coloured, water-resistant fabrics, reminiscent of earthly silks.

“Now, the form of service depends on the type of bond,” Paul explained, his hand coming again to rest on Suka’s bottom while she drank him in, longing for him with every fibre of her being. “The type of bond I think you’d be most interested in is the subjection bond.”

“What is that?”

“It’s the pledge of a man or woman to offer full and lifelong submission to their bondmate.” Paul’s free hand cupped Suka’s chin, his thumb pressing into her cheek, forcing her to hear and absorb every word. “Do you think that would appeal to you?”

“Oh…my,” was all she could say.

“Let’s re-enact the process, then, shall we? I don’t know all the words of the service, so I’ll give it my best guess. First of all, you have to kneel at my feet.”

Suka dropped to her knees as if shot, bending her forehead so it touched Paul’s glossy black boots.

“Exactly like that,” he approved. “Then some vows are spoken. You would say something about giving yourself to me unconditionally and obeying my every word. I would say something about cherishing and protecting you and not sparing the rod.”

Suka gulped and kissed his feet. She was soaking wet between her legs and almost twitching with need for him.

“That’s nice. I’m not sure it’s part of the service. But this is.”

He pulled her to her feet and she fell with infinite gratitude into the heat and fury of his kiss. Their lips smashed together and their tongues curled around each other, greedy and insatiable. For Suka, the intensity of the passion was almost like anger, causing her to crush her body up against his and take rough fistfuls of his flesh. He moved her round and round on the spot, ravaging her mouth until it was dry and her lips throbbed, swollen and spent.

“Now you get your clothes off,” he panted hoarsely, tugging at her top. “I have to display my new acquisition to the crowds.”

“Acquisition?”

“A wealthy Paladian could have up to five bond subjects. Of course, if it was me, I’d stick with one. One is enough.”

Suka, beyond argument or reason now, pulled off her boots and peeled down her tight trousers until she stood naked on the dais in front of Paul, who turned her around to better inspect the state he had made of her arse.

“Gorgeous,” he muttered, cupping the welted flesh. “I’d keep you like that.”

“Ohhh,” sighed Suka.

“I will keep you like that. When you’re mine.”

This cathedral stone was strong stuff, Suka mused. It sounded as if he really wanted her, seriously, long term. But that was the illusion, wasn’t it?

“Now,” he said, wheeling her around roughly so her nude front view faced the vast emptiness and the patterned windows beyond. He planted his hands on her hips, standing behind her, then bestowed a long, hard suck on her neck, marking her in a place that would only just be concealed by the high collar of her uniform top when she dressed again. “Here is my subject, Suka,” he declaimed to his imaginary audience. “All of this is now mine. The expanse of her flesh. The sweetness of her lips. This curving neck and these soft breasts.”

His hands were on the bare mounds, squeezing them together to give the audience the optimal view. He stroked and caressed the nipples, letting the blood swarm into them and harden them into stiff little buttons. Suka threw her head back, nuzzling her crown against Paul’s still-clothed chest.

“No, you have to look out at the audience.” He tutted, twisting the nipples now, making her gasp and squeak at the leaping pleasure-pain. “You must have your subjection witnessed, and you must witness it yourself. That’s in the rules of service.”

“When…did you read that?”

“Oh, years ago. As a student. Stuck in my mind somehow.”

“I’ll…bet…ooh.”

He slid the tormenting hands down her sides, flipping her around by the hips to display her whipped bottom.

“This bottom will be kept tender by my disciplinary attentions,” he promised his invisible witnesses. “It will be used in any way I see fit.” Fingertips travelled slowly, whisper-lightly, down the crack, opening the cheeks to expose the secret within to the audience. “I will train her to accept what I have to give.”

“Train?” Suka swallowed, imagining some kind of anal sex boot camp. Not that that prospect was without its allure.

“Slowly,” soothed Commander Paul. “Gently. But firmly. And relentlessly. I will give your most private place my very special attention. You will undertake to keep it ready and prepared for me at all times. Won’t you? Hmm?”

He encouraged her assent with a thumb on her lower lip and a narrowing of eyes. Suka could only nod.

Then she was facing the front again, her feet nudged wide apart while Paul’s capable hands pulled her sex lips open to reveal the glossy red fruits within to his eager supporters.

“And this. This is mine. These lips, this clit, this opening. This, as well, will always be kept in readiness for me. You will work on maintaining its tightness and wetness, and this will be subject to testing at any time.”

“They would have to stay wet all the time?” queried Suka, though at that moment she could not imagine finding any problem with this requirement. She squirmed against Paul’s confident touch, trying to trick him into rubbing her clit properly.

“The people of Sevarium had ways,” said Paul, probing inside her with one finger, then two. “Lords, but you really are wet, Suka. I could take you here and now.”

“Is that what happens next?” she asked hopefully.

Paul chuckled softly. “Patience,” he chided, causing her to wriggle her hips frustratedly, pushing her bottom into the hard bulge in his trousers.

“First, according to the ritual, the master would invite each and every member of the congregation up, one by one, to inspect and admire his new bond subject. Imagine it, Suka. Here you would stand while I presented you, front and back, to all-comers. They were encouraged to feel you, to take a handful of your breasts, to check your cunt for wetness and your clit for fatness, to perhaps give your bum a good smack before standing down for the next person.”

“Oh my, wouldn’t that take hours?”

“Yes, I imagine so. There would be upwards of a thousand guests at these shindigs. Think of it, Suka. Thousands of hands, feeling you up, fingering you, opening and examining you. It makes you wet, doesn’t it? Well, wetter,” he amended, his fingers rotating easily inside Suka’s soaked passage. “And you weren’t allowed to come. Not unless the master permitted it. If you did, you would be shamed straight away and sent to the punishment suite.”

“The punishment suite?”

“We’ll have to see if we can find it later on.”

Eek! Must we? thought Suka, but the idea excited her beyond belief. She needed just the tiniest flick of Paul’s thumb on her clit to bring her to spectacular orgasm. But he was not about to grant this favour and he took his fingers from her pussy to the accompaniment of her desperate protests.

“Once all that was done,” said Paul into her ear, bending low because she had slumped forward, chin on breastbone, sulking at not being allowed to come yet, “there was the ritual clothing.”

“Clothing? You mean I have to get dressed again?”

“Not really. I wonder if…” He turned around and crouched before the altar, scrabbling around inside the silk drapes that hid the space beneath it. “Brilliant!” he crowed, emerging with a web of slender silver chain, exquisitely delicate and expertly crafted. “Subject links,” he said, holding up his discovery.

“What do they do?”

“Look.” He began to arrange them about Suka’s body, slipping them first over her shoulders, then letting them cross her breasts at the nipple, where a small clip midway along the linkage was conveniently placed. The clips, when attached to Suka’s nipples, were not painful, but they awoke a permanent throb, keeping the nubs hard and full. Once the two strands met at the base of Suka’s cleavage, they joined and passed down through her pussy lips and up the crack of her bottom until the end was fastened to the strip of chain across her shoulder blades. Suka shifted from foot to foot, instantly aware of a tingle transferring from the metal to her sex, keeping it stimulated as if by electricity or magic.

“Oh God. This is how they get the constant horniness thing going,” she exclaimed, rubbing herself against Paul shamelessly now. “This is impossible. Oh, Sir, it’s unbearable. I will come!”

“You won’t. It won’t let you. It stimulates without ever tipping you into climax. Clever lot, weren’t they, the Paladians?” His grin was sadistically gleeful and she was sweating now, struggling to keep a tenuous grip on her mind.

“Genius…es,” she tried to say. “I feel like…I feel like I’m going to…oh God, please let me…”

“You would get used to it,” Paul said, unreassuringly. “But I think it took a week or so.”

“It’s torture.” Suka dropped to her knees, pushing the chain further between her lips, crushing it against her clit, but finding no real relief, whatever she did. “Please take it off!” Her voice broke into a wail of tension.

Paul lifted her from the floor. “I think the time is right,” he whispered in her ear. “I have to take you. No recriminations? No regrets?”

“I promise, seriously, I have to have you, Sir.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t care about that! Please…just…”

He laid her flat on the padded altar, then swung his legs over to straddle her.

“This is the ceremonial mounting,” he informed her, though Suka was long past requiring any educational material.

“I get the picture. Just fuck me.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right attitude for a bond subject, Suka. I think we will be visiting the punishment suite later,” teased Paul, but he was kicking off his boots and freeing his cock from its long imprisonment, ready to indulge Suka’s desire.

He unclipped a connecting link from the base of Suka’s slave harness, immediately releasing her from the worst of the frustration, though her clit still throbbed and her pussy continued to drench the padded leather beneath it.

“This,” gritted Paul, lining up the tip of his cock with Suka’s cunt and bathing it in the wetness there, “is where I lay my claim on you. When my cock owns you, you become irrevocably mine. Put your arms above your head.”

She obeyed, although every instinct told her to grab his backside and force him inside her.

“Make me yours,” she whispered, and he took her at her word, impaling her swiftly and without ceremony on the thick curving rod of flesh that was now her master.

“A harsh master might insist on making you beg permission for your orgasm,” said Paul, holding himself in at the hilt, teeth gritted, every sinew strained. “But I won’t do that. You may come whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks.” Suka’s tone contained just a hint of snark, and she knew she was paying for that when Paul began subjecting her to a blistering, head-banging bout of fucking, showing no mercy, just the way she wanted it.

In between the starbursts of pure sensual stimulation, Suka found stray thoughts weaving through her consciousness.

Commander Paul is fucking me. I am lying underneath him, taking his cock, on an altar. I am his. He is good at this! Very good at this. Oh shit, am I in love? I want him to look at me, I want him to…

He looked at her and she convulsed, heart and soul, seeing in his eyes exactly what she sought. Desperate, furious need, but also tenderness and a touch of bewilderment. Events had overtaken them, Suka realised, both of them. She was not the only vulnerable one here, perhaps not even the most vulnerable.

He took her face in his cupped hands and kissed her through the strongest orgasm of her life, plundering her with his tongue as she twisted and kicked beneath him, accepting her helpless screams into his own throat.

Later, after his own powerful climax, filling her with his hot essence, he slumped on top of her, his face beside hers, damp and slippery. He was heavy—six-feet-two of solid muscle on Suka’s slight frame, and she gasped underneath him.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding far away from her. The altar was not wide and it was not possible to lie side by side. “Like this.” He manoeuvred her on top of him. She sighed and untensed as her sore bum unpeeled from the damp fabric and felt the breath of cool air. She burrowed into Paul’s arms, letting herself fall into satiated exhaustion. He held her so well. Never had she felt so protected, so cherished. Just like it says in the vows.

“The audience would be all over each other now,” said Paul softly. “And it would be one long orgy for the rest of the day and night. Some masters and mistresses liked lending their bond subjects. Others preferred exclusive rights over them. Either way, you would be leaving this place sore and used up.”

“That’s how I feel already.”

“You’ve learned a lot today.”

“Thanks for…educating me.”

“Thanks for being so…intellectually curious. I would teach you again, any time.”

“I hope you will.”

Chapter Three

Paul lifted his head, peering down at Suka’s face where it lay, looking sidelong at him from his chest.

“I know the stone has this effect,” he said, “so the High Council would excuse us what’s just happened. They would understand we had no choice. Don’t worry about getting into any trouble.”

Suka bit her lip, hesitating to speak her mind.

“No choice,” she said at last. “It was the stone that made us do it.”

“That’s what the High Council will know.”

“Is it true?”

“What do you mean?” Paul’s grip on her tightened and he frowned.

“Oh, nothing.” She buried her face in the rumpled material of his uniform top, which he had not bothered to take off for the ceremony. Was he able to disconnect, just like that? View what had passed between them as an occupational hazard? She could hear his heart beating next to her ear, hammering away, but she thought perhaps it was just a sound recording, standing in for a vacancy down there.

Paul pulled at her tight braid. “Are you sulking?” he asked sternly.

“Of course not.” She raised her head, chin up, mouth in a tight little line. “I am bloody starving, though. Should we eat an energy bar?”

“Good idea.” Paul held Suka carefully by the shoulders while he sat up and swung around, vacating the altar. “We should get out of here. Come on.”

The back entrance of the temple took them out to a garden, overgrown and untended, but still beautiful. They found a bench to sit on and took the energy bars from their waist packs, neither one of them speaking.

Suka bit into the teeth-achingly sweet bar and chewed it silently, watching the birds that still inhabited the planet as if they hadn’t realised it was dead.

Now what? Am I supposed to go back to a formal professional footing with a man I just lay beneath, in the throes of orgasm? Does he really expect that to happen?

Her trousers, back up now, felt tacky and clingy, and a reminder of Commander Paul’s recent presence leaked out of her and stained the material at the crotch.

He spoke first, just as the silence was at its heaviest.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Should I be?” she replied quickly.

“You know it wasn’t my intention to take advantage of you.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

“I suppose I do. I’ve gone well outside the boundaries of professionalism, let’s say.”

“And the stone made you do it. It wasn’t the stone that made you pick up that whip, though, was it?”

Paul turned, his eyes wide, flashing alarm signals at Suka, who shrank back instinctively.

“No, that was you, Ensign. Because if you’re suggesting otherwise—”

“I’m not,” she said quickly. She bit into the bar again, thinking about her next conversational move. “You’re just a plaything of the gods today, aren’t you? First your bad little ensign makes you do things, then the temple stone. Poor Commander Paul. It must be terrible, being so coerced all the time.”

Paul finished the final bite of his bar, scrunching up the biodegradable wrapper and discarding it in a neighbouring bush.

“You think I don’t want to take responsibility for all this?” he said. “I accept it, Suka. I accept full responsibility. When I chose you to come down here, I thought you could handle it. I made a bad call. It won’t happen again.”

Suka felt as if he had kicked her in her already tender crotch. The almost-irresistible urge to scream Fuck you! swept over her and she held her fists tightly clenched and counted to five while it passed.

“What exactly have I done that was so wrong?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice level.

“You’re taking everything personally,” said Paul. “You seem to be blaming me for all this. You’re disrespectful and sullen now. Why?”

Suka turned her face away. “Because I made a mistake,” she muttered. “I thought you…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

Paul took a quick breath. “Thought I what?” he said, also looking away.

“Thought it meant something. Hoped it meant something.”

He reached for her hand and took it, fidgeting with her fingers restlessly.

“You still think that? Now we’re outside the temple?”

“What should I think, Commander? We had intense, passionate sex. It felt like a real connection to me. You’re acting as if it was just a trick of the stone.”

Paul was quiet for a moment. The long fronds of the abandoned plants blew and shushed in the soft breezes. Suka tried to tune out, to just enjoy the feel of real weather and unrecycled air. Screw Paul and his ethical hang-ups.

“It doesn’t matter whether it was a trick of the stone or not,” he said quietly. “We can’t pursue this. You know that.”

“Because of intergalactic protocol?”

“Yes. Of course because of intergalactic protocol.”

“Because it’s the rules.”

“Suka—”

“And the rules always rule. Right up there before humanity, or common sense, or love. Rules.”

“You knew that, Suka, you’ve always known it.”

“Yes, but that was before I knew I…” She stopped herself just in time. “Before I knew how I felt. About you.”

Paul squeezed her fingers. “Suka, you’ve had a very powerful sexual experience. That can affect your reasoning—”

“Don’t you dare patronise me, Commander. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.”

Commander Paul hauled her to her feet.

“Okay, enough,” he said. “You’re going back up to the ship. I’ll complete this mission alone.” He moved to take his communicator from his belt, but drew the whip instead, having forgotten he had placed it there.

This gave Suka enough time to slip free of his grasp and race out of his reach.

“I’m not going back,” she called from behind a huge flowering shrub. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

“Ensign!” he roared, but she was away, picking out the remnants of the path beneath the drying reeds and leaves, sure of only one thing, which was that this adventure was not ending yet. Not until she had made Commander Paul realise exactly how significant the emotional exchange between them had been.

It was hard to run with her legs still weak from the sex and her bottom tingling and her whole groin area aching and swollen, but she managed to gain some ground, taking advantage of the obfuscatory foliage to foil Paul’s attempts at second-guessing her route. Through the brown-greenery, she began to make out the wall of a building, looming ever closer, built of a dark, glittering brick, windowless and sinister in its appearance. Suka tried to find a door, but between running full-pelt and trying to place Paul’s location by the sound of his irate yelling, her senses were busy enough, and it wasn’t until she was almost smack-bang into the wall that she worked out how to get into the building.

She vaulted over an iron balustrade and scampered down some steps to a basement door. Hoping against hope it would not be locked, she yanked at the handle. The door creaked aside and Suka found herself in pitch darkness. Good, she thought. He won’t be able to find me just by looking.

She reached out, feeling for walls, and tiptoed rapidly along the side of the building, listening out for sounds of her master’s voice.

Crackling of undergrowth from above, heavy footsteps on the stairs, then his voice.

“Suka? Stop this now. You’re in more trouble than you can ever imagine, girl. When I get my hands on you…”

Suka had to suppress a gasp, sure already he would be able to locate her by the deafening beating of her heart.

A narrow beam of light bisected the darkness. He was using his communicator torch. Luckily, the chamber was vast and full of strange corners and cubbyholes. If she used her sense of touch wisely, she could find a way out of here before he lit on her.

Huge shapes, malevolent and fantastical, loomed in the greyness. Had Suka not been so focused on the chase, she might have wondered about their purpose, but only one imperative drove her. The beam of light swished around, sometimes coming close, but she was light-footed enough to keep her footsteps near-silent.

She heard Commander Paul curse.

“Suka! This isn’t going to help you. Come here now.”

Her fingers closed around a metal ring in the wall. It might be the latch of some kind of portal. Feverishly she tried to turn it without making a noise. The light gained on her, advancing with Paul’s footsteps, closer and closer.

Damn, she thought. I don’t have time to be subtle. She gave the ring a wrench and a door began to slide open. Now Paul would know where she was—as evidenced by his quickening pace and sudden, nearby roar of, “Suka!”

Come on, door, open, open, quickly. But the grinding of the gears was infernally slow, and Suka was halfway through trying to insert her slim figure into the narrow opening when Paul’s hand landed on her elbow, closing around it like an iron band. Fuck. So much for that plan.

Not that it had been much of a plan. More an anti-plan, a reaction against Paul’s unacceptable plan for her.

“You’ve broken one rule too many, Ensign—” Paul was barking, when suddenly his torch caught the edge of something and he was silenced, flashing the beam slowly around the new chamber.

“The punishment suite,” quavered Suka. “It must be.”

“Yes.” Paul, forgetful of his wrath, used the communicator to light the room more fully, zapping the wall-mounted brackets until a flickering glow illuminated the scene.

Suka’s legs buckled and she was momentarily grateful for Paul’s firm, if uncomfortable, hold on her elbow. This was incredible. She was reminded of an illustration in one of the anthropological texts she had studied for her dissertation. ‘Figure Two: Typical BDSM “Dungeon Club”.’ She had looked at that picture over and over, imagining herself restrained in some of the equipment, at the mercy of a heartless man or men, or maybe even a woman like the one in ‘Figure Three: A Professional Dominatrix.’

“It’s like a dream,” she said softly, “all of this.”

Paul jerked to attention, reminded of her company. He narrowed his eyes, frowning down at her.

“Your worst nightmare?”

“No. Leaving here. Leaving here without you is my worst nightmare.”

“One you don’t have much choice about,” said Paul robustly, but Suka could see he was struggling to maintain his resolve.

“We always have a choice,” she said. “Commander. Please don’t send me back.”

“I have to.” There it was, palpable regret, almost anguish.

Suka knew she had to build on this, drive home her advantage. She bumped her hip against his and raised entreating eyes.

“Another punishment? Please? I know I deserve one. Anything you want. Just don’t send me away.”

“Suka—”

“Give me what I deserve, Commander. Make me take my punishment. Please discipline me as you see fit.”

He groaned, trying to push her away, but the bulge of his crotch signalled her imminent victory and she pursued it relentlessly.

She used her free hand to push the waistband of her trousers downwards, bringing her bottom, cooled now but still tender, out into the frigid air of the punishment chamber.

“Use the whip, Sir,” she suggested feverishly. “I need it. I need to feel your dominance over me, or I’ll never learn, will I, Sir? Teach me the lesson. Make it a hard one, one I’ll never forget.” She rubbed her hand over the receding welts, pinching her flesh, moving in to press against the imprisoned erection.

Paul’s hand smacked down hard on the rudely-exposed backside, and Suka’s cry was only partly of pain. Jubilation fizzed through her. He could not resist this opportunity. She had bought time, time to convince him this was no momentary aberration but a shared emotional experience on which they could build a happy partnership.

“You’ll get it,” snarled Paul. “Believe me. You won’t forget this for a long time.” He pulled her roughly forward, taking her on a tour of the well-equipped suite. “The only question is, where shall I start?”

Suka’s beady eyes worked hard at taking it all in. There were hooks and chains hanging from the ceiling with adjustable pulleys. There was a large wooden cross on a platform. There were medical gurneys with arrangements of straps. As they advanced through the room, Suka began to have misgivings. Some of these items were proper, fully-fledged torture devices. She screwed up her eyes and clamped her legs instinctively, praying she had not let herself in for anything too physically gruelling.

Paul stopped in front of a horrifying-looking bed of nails.

“What do you deserve, Suka?”

She squeaked, trembling, wanting at once to hide in his arms, and run away. Which was the best option?

He took pity, patting her shoulder.

“I’m not a true sadist,” he told her, and she let the balloon of air that had been constricting her chest out again. “I don’t like hurting people who aren’t enjoying it. But this is my quandary, Suka. I want to punish you. But I don’t want you to enjoy every moment. I want to test you, stretch you, take you to a limit. What’s your limit?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Suka, her voice uneven. “Never been there.”

“We’ll find it,” promised Paul. “And it will be painful. Don’t think it won’t. You need to feel it. But when you’re sure you can’t take any more, you must tell me. Say the word ‘surrender’ and I’ll stop. And you can go back to the ship, alone.”

Suka pouted. He was still talking about making her return.

“What if I never surrender?”

Paul sighed pleasurably. “If you never surrender…I’ll have to rethink, won’t I? I have my limits too. I couldn’t damage you, couldn’t draw blood. I wonder whose boundary will be reached first?”

Suka felt there was nothing in the whole wide universe she wanted to find out more.

Chapter Four

“Strip,” said Commander Paul suddenly, and Suka froze for a moment, gathering her wits and her nerve, before leaning down to remove her left boot. She was going to view this as a test. A test of obedience, a test of endurance, a test of courage. And if she passed it, she told herself her prize would be Commander Paul as her master, in her personal life as well as the professional sphere.

Standing barefoot on the cold smooth floor, she finished the job of lowering and removing her trousers until only her top half was clothed. She wondered, with a hot flash of embarrassment, if Paul could see the dried crust of his own semen clinging to her inner thighs, but she banished the thought by lifting her crew jersey over her head, pulling stray blonde curls from the severe plait.

Now naked, Suka could not help hugging herself under her ribcage, shivering in the frigid air. Luckily, the wall lights seemed also to generate heat. A bearable temperature would take a little while to establish itself, but it was on the way.

For now, though, Suka’s nipples stood out like hard pink pearls, painfully tight and still slightly raw from Paul’s earlier treatment. She was not sure what to do with her eyes—if she looked at him, was that too bold? But she didn’t want him to think she was scared of him, even though she was, a little. She settled for tilting her head down and regarding him from beneath lowered lashes. He seemed to approve, feet planted wide, arms folded across his chest, letting his eyes travel from her toes to the crown of her tousled head.

“What shall we do with Suka?” he asked the shadowed walls, looking around him. “What does she deserve?”

He found a large storage chest and opened it up, exclaiming delightedly at its contents. Suka watched him retrieve a glossy black thing and hold it up.

“She needs to be dressed and prepared for punishment,” said Paul. “Lift your arms.”

Suka obediently raised her arms above her head and allowed him to wrap the item around her middle torso. It was a cupless corset-type affair, strictly boned, cinching in her waist and supporting her breasts, which stood pertly above the shiny fabric. Paul drew the back-lacing as tight as he could without making her squeal, restricting her so she had to breathe with care. He put his hands on her hips and traced their outline, apparently pleased with the way the garment made her bottom swell underneath its rigid busk.

“You should wear one of these all the time,” he said conversationally. “It would keep you in check, I think. Now, next…”

He returned to the chest, and this time he bore a wide collar of a dark, leather-like material, which he buckled around her neck, forcing Suka to keep her chin up. The final item made Paul laugh as he rummaged in the box of tormenting treasure.

“Good old-fashioned high heels,” he said, drawing out a pair of dangerous-looking pumps. “You know, all sorts of women used to wear these all the time, even on Earth.”

“I know,” said Suka, having to exercise her chin muscles to get the words out over the top of the collar.

“What did you just say?”

Suka stiffened. Something had displeased him, but she wasn’t sure what. She gambled.

“I said, I know, Sir.”

“You didn’t,” said Paul sternly. “But you should have. Okay. I’ll overlook it. What size are you? I think these should fit.”

He pushed Suka’s bare feet into the stilettos, giving her a few moments to stagger around in an attempt to accustom herself to her sudden height.

“This is a punishment in itself,” she muttered to herself. The shoes were wildly uncomfortable, cramping her toes together at the pointed end. Had ordinary women really worn these? Wouldn’t their feet have evolved accordingly, so as to make them easier to walk in?

“Prolonged wear damaged the foot,” noted Paul. “So they died out eventually. However, it has to be said, I can see why they were popular. They make your legs look sensational, and as for your arse…”

He slapped her outthrust cheeks with relish.

“Let’s see you parade your new look,” grinned Paul, almost openly salivating. “Up to that whipping bench and back.”

Suka tottered along, her spine poker-straight and her head held high, conscious of how the shoes made her bottom wiggle with every step. She imagined Paul’s eyes on her hot-pink rear and tried to inject that extra bit of sass to her step. You will want me. You will not be able to resist me.

By the time she turned to face him again, he had one hand discreetly hanging over his crotch, the other clamped to his upper arm, pretending a casual, natural posture. But Suka knew different, and the power this gave her probably did little for her efforts to appear meek and submissive.

Confident on the heels now, she strode up to him, hands on swinging hips, lips pouting outward.

“All right, the catwalk show’s over,” said Paul gruffly. “Take your disobedient backside over to those suspended cuffs. It’s time for your lesson.”

Hanging low to the side of the room were some leather-lined metal wrist cuffs, attached to a chain. The thick metal rope disappeared upwards until it met a hook in the ceiling, then it travelled back down again, ending in a pulley a few feet away from the cuffs. Suka could see straightaway how this would work. Paul would literally be able to keep her on her toes.

She held her wrists out for him, making no comment as he snapped the cuffs shut then stepped back to put the pulley into motion. Her arms swung upwards, slowly enough to make it seem like a ceremony of sorts. She felt the pull of tension against her corseted ribs, then her arms were vertical, reaching for the sky, up again, fractions of inches, so very slowly, until she was on tiptoe, struggling to keep upright. Now she knew that this was going to be a real test. Every nerve, every sense, was on alert. The tension of her body spread, inside and out, until she was one tightly-wound string, waiting to be plucked. The high collar prevented her from turning her head to try and locate Paul. All she could do was look ahead, at her own shadow, gigantically tethered and teetering, on the opposite wall.

“Now then,” said Paul, fixing the pulley in position and sauntering over to Suka’s helpless form. “Let’s start with an inspection.”

He ran a finger down her cheek, feather-light and caressing, making her want to sigh and lean into it. But he held the flushing cheek in his palm, using his thumb to part her lips and push inside her mouth. “Mmm, someone’s hungry?” he said as she tried to suck the thumb inside. “Dinner may be a while yet.”

He laughed quietly and pressed down on her tongue while his free hand made a thorough inspection of Suka’s prominent breasts.

“Nipples fully engorged,” he noted as if ticking off a checklist. “Those little clamps earlier made them sore, didn’t they? Ooh, ouch. Does that hurt?” His pinch was gentle, but it was still enough to make Suka flinch.

“They’re sensitive, Sir,” she squeaked.

“Good,” he said, leaning down and breathing warm vapour over them so they throbbed ticklishly. “So they should be.” The tip of his tongue danced a light circle around each in turn. Suka writhed in her bonds again, but this time her actions were motivated by pleasurable frustration. She was dampening below again, despite the recent and serious seeing-to Paul had given her in the temple. It occurred to her that the Commander could torment her in all kinds of ways while she was trussed up like this. A whipping would be the very least of it.

He moved his hands to her shoulders, holding her still so she wasn’t tempted to waver and wheel about on her toes, and began to attend to her breasts in earnest, bathing them with his tongue and sucking at them for all he was worth. Deep sounds of throaty relish made Suka want to push them further into his mouth, prolonging the feast, while she tried as hard as she could to urge her pelvis forward into contact with his. He had her fixed in position, though, and her poor needy pussy had to wait.

“I think they’ll do,” he said finally, releasing the oversensitised nubs to the now-warm air. His hands followed the artificially-enhanced curves of her waist and hips, dropping below the corset to land on her bottom.

“The whip marks are fading,” he said, using his hands to make this observation. “Your skin is almost smooth again, and cooler than it was in the temple.”

“It still feels a little sore, Sir,” Suka told him.

“That won’t make any difference to the severity of your punishment,” Paul said, and she bit her lip. “Well, you should have thought of that before you went running off, shouldn’t you? Ensigns with sore bottoms should know to behave themselves. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll know the meaning of the word sore.” He pushed a finger between the cheeks, which Suka tensed shut immediately. “Don’t you resist me, Ensign,” he scolded. The finger pad seated itself firmly at the hidden twist of her arsehole. “There are all sorts of ways to discipline a rebel. As you will see.”

Suka tried to squirm away from him, but he had her too highly-strung. Any attempt to elude him could only end with her spinning and lurching out of control. He took pity—for the moment—and concentrated on her front prospect, lightly slapping the insides of her thighs to make her stand with her feet wider apart. This was a struggle, bringing her almost off the floor, but she persevered and managed to hold her stance somehow. All those years of military-type parades at the Academy had paid off at last.

“And down here…” murmured Paul, spreading her cunt lips and crouching to peer into the dark valley. “Aha. Haven’t you been fucked enough for one day?” He grinned up at her, all white teeth and blazing blue eyes. She rolled her hips, desperate for his firm touch to move in and find her clit, or poke a finger or three up inside. He had used her there, but she was far from used up.

He dipped his fingers in her juices, mixing and swirling, coating them luxuriantly before the cruel withdrawal. Standing straight, he offered his sex-scented digits to her mouth. She lapped at them greedily, sighing, wanting them back down there.

“Taste yourself,” he whispered. “You love it, don’t you? You love to be tied up and used.”

“Mmm,” she confirmed, mouth filled with his strong, large fingers.

“Let’s see if you’ll still love it when I’m done.”

He moved swiftly out of her line of sight and she watched his shadow recede, back to the treasure chest.

What next? Her throat tightened and her stomach lurched as the reality of the situation sunk in. She could only get out of this by surrendering. And if she surrendered that would be her chance to live this life with this man scuppered. Whatever he was going to do to her, she was going to take as much of it as she could. She was going to win this.

She felt his body behind her again, then she gasped as a hand reached rudely between her legs and appeared to snatch at her pussy. It took a few seconds for Suka to realise he was attaching something—two somethings—on the inner wall of her labia, just where they made contact with her puffy, swollen clitoris.

“What’s…that, Sir?” she panted. A mild buzzing sensation began to fill that wet, slick channel, and there was a constant pressure on her clit from both sides.

“Stimulant patches,” said Paul. “They’ll keep you coming. And coming. Until you can come no more.”

“Oh God.” Suka could already feel the first tremor building. Punishing me with pleasure. You’re even smarter than I thought.

“They’re not the strongest,” he said with satisfaction. “I could attach the real super-strength version if you’d prefer.”

“I think…these are strong enough.” She wanted to rotate her hips violently, to reach down and rub, and fill her cunt with something long and thick and hold it there. It would take less than a minute for her to start climaxing, she thought. Then her thoughts were stopped in their tracks by a sharp smack to her bum.

She swung forward in her bonds, surprised, but Paul’s hand kept falling, heavy and hard, over and over, while the furious whirligig of sensation continued to fill her pussy. The swats seemed to intensify the action of the stimulants and Paul had barely delivered a dozen before the first orgasm spent her spinning on her wire, round and round. Paul spanked her all the way through it, showing no quarter, just laying handprint after handprint on her burning arse.

“That’s one,” he said. “Now let’s add a little something.”

Seconds later, Suka moaned as a long, thick object with a rounded head nudged at the entrance to her still-spasming vagina. The clit buzzers hummed away, accompanying the slow progress of the dildo—for presumably that was what it was—inside Suka’s wet, tight channel. It was quite wide, and she had to stretch to accommodate its girth. She thought it was about the same size as Paul’s cock, from the way it made her work to accept it. She puffed and gasped at each extra inch of incursion, wanting to bend over to make it easier but not having that option.

“How does that feel?” asked Paul, one hand holding her still on her hip while he continued to feed the dildo to her hungry pussy.

“Oh…I’m full…really full…and I’m going to come again in a minute…those darn buzzy things…oh, oh, oh.” The fat fake cock made its way to the end, and she came again, so quickly it took her by surprise, a warm wave of pleasure rippling outwards while her muscles clenched around the invasive presence.

Paul smacked her bottom again before retreating to the chest and returning with something he laid against her tingling cheeks, something flat and rectangular and made of a cold, smooth material, maybe wood.

“Now for that paddling you’ve earned,” he promised.

Suka wished she had a gag. She knew she was going to howl, all dignity long gone. Just the memory of the whip was enough to make her wince.

The paddle met her flesh with a substantial whap, and at the same time as her yell of pain filled the room, the dildo inside her began to thrum, joining in with its clitoral equivalents.

The pain and the pleasure were so close, yet so different, and yet one seemed to set off the other. Suka’s mind began to disintegrate, it was all too confusing. Which was pain? Which was pleasure? What was making her say ‘ouch’ and what was making her say ‘ooh’? It all seemed the same, one giant sensation made up of these conflicting parts—the deep, shocking jolt of the paddle, the insistent vibrations around and inside her pussy, the straining of her muscles, the clenching of her jaw.

She came again after twenty hard strokes of the paddle, knowing her bottom must be deep, deep red and would likely be bruised for a while. Paul certainly didn’t hold back, but somehow this was good, this was right. If he’d gone easy on her, she would have been disappointed. This might be their last chance to do this—if so, she wanted her marks of memento.

Paul wielded the paddle through her climax, concentrating on the overhang of her buttocks and the tops of her thighs. “I want you to feel this when you sit,” he told her. “I want you to remember this and learn from it.”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed to say between smacks. Not much chance of ever forgetting this. And I’ve learned from it all right. I’ve learned that this is what I want. This is how I want to live.

It wasn’t until he put the paddle down that she realised her whole body was trembling and her chest heaving fit to burst. The storm between her legs and on her behind had completely focused her, to the exclusion of lesser events, like the increasing soreness of her wrists and the discomfort of her feet in the high heels.

“Don’t want to numb these cheeks,” said Paul, stroking her raging rear. “I’m a long way from finished yet.”

Suka made an inarticulate sound that she didn’t even understand herself. Her own feelings were slipping away from her, becoming cloudy and unidentifiable. She did not know anything except that she wanted this to go on and on, even though her pussy was starting to feel wrung out and her whole body ached. She was falling through a wide dark sky of inner bliss. A word from her Academy project flew through her mind. Subspace. Was this it?

“Are you feeling this, Suka?” asked Paul gently, behind her shoulder, massaging it. “Are you feeling punished yet?”

“Mmm,” was all she could say, pushing back into him, inviting him. Her bottom pressed into his rock hard thighs, and the vibrating dildo met the resistance of his firm flesh, increasing its potency. Rocking back against him, Suka came again, and he bent his lips to her neck and sucked through the orgasm.

“That’s four, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Though I think you’re a bit beyond keeping count. I’m working you hard. And it isn’t over. Not by a long way.”

He stepped away and she fell back, as far as her tight leash would allow, soon righting her posture, keeping her legs apart, rolling her hips in time with the vibrators, trying to keep another orgasm away.

Then his hands were on her again, parting her red hot butt cheeks, stroking their tender insides before placing a lubricated fingertip against that tight pucker.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, tensing her sphincter.

“No,” he admonished, wiggling the finger, making her feel the pressure. “This is all part of your punishment. You don’t get to pick and choose. Don’t forget, let me know when you reach your limit. You can still speak, can’t you?”

“Just…about…” she gasped, shimmying violently as his fingertip made it through the tiny ring, opening up her most private space to his intrusions.

“Are we at your limit, Suka? Do you want to stop now?”

“No!” she exclaimed, relaxing into the odd sensation, revelling in how utterly owned and surrendered it made her feel. This was another dream realised, never mind the discomfort his prodding and poking around in her bum was causing her. He had that right. He held all rights over her. She belonged to him, in every respect now.

Another finger spread her wider. She struggled to retain a semblance of composure, but the buzzers defeated her and she wailed aloud, sure that another unwanted climax couldn’t be far off. This felt so uniquely sinful, so decadent.

“You can take this, Suka,” he said, softly, keeping her calm, tamping down her rising panic. His fingers scissored inside her, then they met the solid resistance of the dildo, just a thin stretch of flesh separating them. He pulled out and Suka released a long exhalation, only to yelp anew as a larger, wider, colder substitute took the place of Paul’s fingers.

“You know about butt plugs, don’t you, Suka?” he asked, easing it carefully between her cheeks and into the circular aperture. “They are especially necessary for bad little ensigns like you. They keep them in their place. You won’t be able to forget you are wearing one of these. I’d like to take one of these back to the ship. It would be nice to know you were squirming in your seat on the bridge with one of these stuffed inside your tight pants every time you broke a rule. Beats loss of Association Time privileges. Bending you over and spanking your arse, then filling it up with one of these would work wonders on you, I think. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned, twisting her hips as the widest part of the plug tested her endurance.

“I think we’d soon have one very obedient, very well-behaved little ensign, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, Sir.” The plug seated itself fully and then, to Suka’s mingled ecstasy and despair, it began to buzz in unison with its pussy-bound counterparts.

“Ohh.” Suka’s moans were low and throaty. The vibrator in her arse added a mind-blowing power to the fifth orgasm and she crumpled in the bonds, a boneless doll, taken over the edge of heavenly darkness.

“Stand straight,” commanded Paul.

Somehow, she obeyed. Somehow, though her knees no longer existed and she was no more than a sticky mess of lust and exhaustion and submission.

“I’m going to give you six. Count them.”

“Can’t…”

“This is your limit?”

He put aside whatever he was holding and made to release her wrists.

“Yes, I can!” she cried, delirious with the power her submission had given her. No amount of drilling on the Academy quadrangle had ever tested her tolerance levels like this, but, in the very kernel of her being, Suka knew she could take more. She could take as much as he could give. “Give it to me! Give me what I need!”

“Since you put it that way…”

She heard a low swish through the air behind her. It must be a cane.

Fear and exhilaration coursed through her. This, she knew from her studies, was the most severe of implements. If Paul gave her this, he must think she could handle it. She had won! She had won his hand, the hand that would hold her in check.

You have to take the caning first, Suka, she cautioned herself, realising a victory celebration might be pre-emptive. Marshal your strength. Ignore the vibrations. Breathe through it. Take it. It’s only six strokes.

The slender rod tapped against the apple of her backside. She had had time to recover from the paddling and her bottom was no longer anywhere near numb, though the heat and sting were still very much in evidence. Her thighs were soaked with her own chilling juices, her clit fat and overworked, her cunt and arse straining to keep up with the relentless stimulation.

The menacing swish cut through the air again, and this time it ended with a flat split of sound that, for a moment, Suka did not recognise as the cane’s contact with her bottom. But in a millisecond ferocious white-hot pain streaked a line across her cheeks and she needed all her breath control, every scrap, not to scream like a banshee.

“Ohh, ohh, one, Sir,” she whimpered, trying to escape, trying to distract him with her swinging hips, trying to do anything that might get her out of any more of those breathtaking stripes.

“Is that painful?” he asked, with pretend sympathy. “Poor Suka. I think we’ve found the implement for her. I think we’ve found the thing that will work. I’ll take this back with me too.”

Oh, please do!

His words spurred her on. Cheekily, she pushed out her bum, inviting the second stroke.

It hit the end of the butt plug, causing it to shudder inside her and increase the intensity of the vibrations. Vibrations all over her, from the sting, from the plug, from the dildo, from the clit buzzers, she was one big vibration.

“Two, Sir.”

He laid the third and fourth vicious cuts on the ‘sit’ spot where she would feel them for days on end. She counted them, and went further than that, thanking him as well.

“You’re thanking me?” he said in surprise. “You’re quite a girl, Suka. Quite a girl. Thank me for this.”

It whipped down across her lower buttocks, adding its burn to that which already licked across her punished skin.

“Five, Sir, thank you, Sir, oh, I’m on fire!”

“Last one. Brace yourself. It’ll be a hard one.”

He was right. It set her leaping from one extended foot to the other, yelping and yowling, powerless to do anything to douse that evil conflagration on her bottom. The vibrators made her come again, the sixth orgasm at the sixth stroke, a fusion of passion and pleasure and pain that left her shaking and tearful.

“You didn’t count,” chided Paul, but he seemed beyond caring, hurrying to pull out her dildo and replace it with his stiff, thick cock. His thrusts were quick and powerful, his abdomen slapping against her throbbing bottom, reawakening the sting, butting the plug, making her scream through a final climax that lasted for minutes rather than seconds, multiple melting orgasms that didn’t end until Paul had come inside her, his fingers bruising her hips, his last words a reminder that she belonged to him.

Suka trembled through the uncuffing and removal of the toys and fell against Paul, who gathered her close, lifted her and carried her to the one comfortable-looking prop in the whole room—an old-fashioned four-poster bed. He laid her down, then took off his boots and uniform and joined her, lying propped on his side. Through half-closed eyes Suka could see him looking down at her, his expression sombre, his face streaked with sweat.

She felt limbless, floating in the ether, everything inside her scooped out to make a hollow, weightless shell. She could feel the angry throb of the cane welts, but they seemed irrelevant somehow, and far below her surface.

“Who won that then?” wondered Paul aloud.

“We both did.” Suka’s voice was dreamy and faraway.

“I didn’t go too far for you, did I? You would have said something, wouldn’t you?”

Suka lifted a hand and put it to his cheek, barely managing to keep her arm raised, it shook so.

“Oh God, tell me it’s okay?” Paul sounded agitated. “You’re okay, Suka? I feel guilty. I’ve taken it over the edge.”

“No.” Suka’s languid tones seemed to soothe him a little. “It was the best thing ever. It was just incredible.”

“Really? You aren’t just saying that because you don’t want to go back to the ship?”

“No. Not at all. I mean it. It was. You were. Just like the old-fashioned doms I’ve read and dreamed about. Fantasy come true.”

“That’s…good,” said Paul, but he sounded troubled.

“Good.”

“Listen,” he said, whispering for some reason. “What are we going to do?”

Suka turned her head, the fractional effort it took depleting her of what little energy she still had.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think you can forget about this? Because I don’t think I can. Pandora’s Box. Well and truly open. But a box of pleasures rather than ills. Perhaps it should be called Suka’s Box instead.”

“You’re right. It’s too much to just leave behind here. It’s a part of us, Commander.”

“Call me Azed.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that!” Suka’s hand flew to her mouth and she suppressed a giggle.

“Oh, call me Master then, if that’s easier for you.”

“In a weird way, it is. Master. I like that.”

“It’s a part of us,” he echoed, musing. “Yes. We can’t lop it off and carry on as normal. So the question remains. What are we going to do?”

“Sleep,” said Suka determinedly.

“As a short-term plan, it’s a good one.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her close, cradling her head beneath his chin, and on the silent, deserted planet, they were the two lone dreamers.

Chapter Five

On waking, Suka almost expected everything to be different. Paul would have changed his mind, have slept off the intensity of emotion and be insisting on a swift return and a blotting out of inconvenient feelings.

But, if anything, he seemed almost keener to retain the link than Suka was, kissing her eyelids until they opened, stroking her hair, whispering into her ear.

“Sleepyhead. We have a decision to make.”

She smiled into his hawkish face and impulsively pulled it down, her hand on the back of his neck, for a long, slow smooch.

“Can’t we put it off?” she whispered, coming up for air. Her whole body ached, stung, throbbed, but somehow she was ready for him again, her juices gathering between her legs.

“No,” he said sternly, tweaking her nose. “We can’t.”

“So.” She sat up with a deep sigh, then changed her mind, and moved around to lie on her hip. Much less painful. “Back to the ship, I suppose.”

“I suppose. I don’t know what I can do. I can ask to be relieved of command—”

“No! They would refuse anyway.”

“Well, the only other way is to synchronise leave and have at least a few weeks of the year to look forward to. But we’d have to keep it very quiet.”

Suka gazed dejectedly at his hand, flat on the bed in front of her.

“It’s not great. But I guess it’s the best we can hope for.”

He bent to kiss her, sweetly, regretfully, but firmly.

“That’s settled. That’s a plan. Come, then.”

They dressed—Paul rapidly, Suka with a great variety of winces and sucking in of cheeks—then they left the punishment suite, passing through the darkened room in which Suka had hidden earlier. Paul shone his communicator torch through the gloom, able to look closely at the fixtures and fittings now he was not chasing his errant ensign.

“This is the Hall of the Futures.” He spoke reverently, walking over to a computer console of some kind and running his hand over the apparatus. “Where the Paladians developed new technologies. Something they were extremely good at, by the way. This must be some kind of communications device. Shame there’s no power to watch it in action. Perhaps we could come back down with boosters.”

“I thought the Paladians were quite isolationist.”

“They were, to an extent. Neighbours didn’t approve of their lifestyle. Neighbours were prudes, essentially.”

“Like our civilisation.”

Paul turned and grinned. “Yes. Blundering along thinking they’re doing the right thing, invading people’s private space.”

“It’s a crying shame. Do you think it’ll ever change?”

“Probably. Not in our lifetime, though.”

Paul was frowning over another machine, tapping at various buttons with some of his tools.

“Don’t know what this is. I haven’t seen this one in the books. Must have been something new. A prototype.”

“It’s very strange-looking,” commented Suka. “Like a lift car but with lots of extra knobs on. I think something happens to you if you step into it.”

“Perhaps it’s a new punishment device. But it doesn’t seem to work on electricity. Is there a manual anywhere? A blueprint?”

Paul cast around for the essential piece of information, but found none.

“Well, we may never know. I’m going to photograph it and research it back on board ship.” He took a snap of the device, while Suka crouched down and opened a drawer in the outer wall.

“What’s this?”

“Perzidium. The treasure of Paladium Three. Very rare, very valuable, with magnetic and electrical properties.”

Paul turned the bright blue shard of crystal over and over in his hand.

“Could it be used as fuel? Could it be what makes this thing work? No! Stop! What are you doing?”

He leapt forward just a fraction too late to prevent Suka from putting a piece of the Perzidium into a tube on the front of the capsule. A low hum pervaded the air and the periphery of the box fluoresced into life.

Paul’s foot knocked Suka off-balance and she fell backwards into the capsule, screaming as her backside hit the floor, both from pain and from fear of whatever unknown doom she might have consigned herself to.

“I’m disappearing!” Her foot was beginning to melt, the silver boots dripping.

“No!” Paul, without a second thought, took a dive into the capsule with her, trying to drag her out, but already he too was beginning to degrade, his strength crucially sapped. He possessed only enough energy to hold on to Suka and watch as her blonde curls migrated, one by one, from her head.

Suka lay on her stomach, crushed by the weight on top of her, struggling to breathe, unable to see.

Just as it seemed inevitable that her ribs would cave in and her heart would burst, the pressure lifted and she was able to take in lungfuls of air again. The blackness turned to dark spots in front of her eyes, then brightened to a blur of colour and movement.

“You’re okay? You’re alive?”

She turned to the voice. Who? Where?

A hand on her arm, then around her shoulder.

“Christ, what have you done, Suka?”

Yes, that’s my name! And this is Commander Paul. And…

The memories came back all at once, winding her with their intensity and vividness.

“We were in that place. The Hall of the Futures or whatever. Where are we now?”

They huddled beneath a stone arch in the centre of a dusty square. Many of the ancient buildings they had seen in Sevarium towered over them, and in the distance some kind of military drill was taking place, observed and cheered on by a crowd of onlookers.

“Can you stand?” Paul hauled her to her feet. She swayed at first, hanging on to him. He took his communicator from his belt and switched it on. “No signal,” he frowned.

They were halfway across the square when an official-looking man in dark robes hurried over to them.

“The Arch,” he said. “Did you come through the Arch?”

Suka and Paul exchanged a nervous look. It would be clear to their interlocutor that they were not local. He had only to look at their attire and hairstyles.

“I believe we did,” admitted Paul. “Though how is a question I can’t answer. My name is Commander Azed Paul, I’m the captain of—”

“Yes, yes, never mind,” fussed the official. “I’m the keeper of the Arch. I must take you to the Minister. Come with me, please.”

As they accompanied the keeper to the fine building that housed the government of Paladium Three, Suka noticed the event taking place was not a military drill but some kind of slave training ritual. A group of naked young men were performing a variety of lewd acts on their masters and mistresses in strict formation, to the obvious enjoyment of the crowd. Those that defaulted in any way were taken to the side, to be soundly cropped by a scary-looking official before being sent back on to the parade ground.

“We’re still in Sevarium,” she whispered to Paul. “How is this possible? It looks interesting though.”

He squeezed her hand, then they passed through the doors of the Ministry, away from the heat and dust and lust of the outdoor spectacle.

The Minister sat at a vast desk made of a sparkling deep green mineral. He looked up from signing documents, obviously interested to see the keeper.

“Varga! I had not expected to see you today. These have come from the Arch?”

“So they say.”

Paul took advantage of the fascinated silence to introduce himself and Suka.

“Oh,” said the Minister. “Intergalactic anthropologists. I did wonder if we would get any.”

“What has happened? I would like to hear your explanation.”

“Before those disgusting Chavians destroyed our civilisation, we were working on a time-travel facility. You seem to have discovered it.”

“Time travel! Then we are in…the past?”

“Yes, a hundred aeons prior to our doomsday, to be precise. Or rather, ninety-eight now. Two aeons have passed.”

“You came through the Arch as well?”

“Yes. Myself and the majority of our best engineers had time to escape destruction before the toxic waste hit our planet’s surface. We have assimilated very well into our planet’s past, as you see. Within a few aeons, Paladium Three will be at the forefront of interstellar technologies and we will be able to alter the course of time.”

“That’s frowned upon, as you know.”

“Question of survival, dear fellow. Survival of the brightest. I like that take on evolution, don’t you? And besides, there’s precious little you can do about it. Now you’re here, you’re here. For good. So you can play along with us and join in the spirit of Sevarium, or you can spend the rest of your lives in incarceration. Which will you choose, I wonder?”

“We can’t ever leave?” said Suka in a small voice.

“Can’t have you sneaking off to Federation High Control and telling tales, can we? I know what you people are like. You don’t understand our ways. We’ve had mega-aeons of being told we’re disgusting perverts who ought to be blasted into oblivion. You can go and click your tongues and voice your distaste in splendid isolation, where we don’t have to see it. Keeper, send for the incarcerators.”

“No!” Paul stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Listen to me. You are mistaken. Suka and I, we understand your ways. And we are in sympathy with them.”

The Minister paused long enough for a sneer to form. “Really? You know, the phrase ‘I wasn’t born yesterday’ is truer for me than for most. I was born tomorrow. And I know you’re looking for a way out of this fix. Pretending you can live the Sevarian Way won’t work.”

“But we can! We came here because we had a personal, illicit interest in your way of life—one we were forbidden to indulge. We even performed the bonding.”

“Oh, come, come―”

“I took Suka to the punishment suite and we made full use of its facilities. Suka.” Paul turned to her, exasperated by the Minister’s reluctance to believe him. “Show the Minister.”

Her eyes widened. “Show him?”

“Yes.”

“Show me what?” The Minister leant forward, salaciously interested.

“Ensign, I order you to lower your trousers and present your bare backside to the Minister.”

The firmness of his voice was not to be brooked. Suka shuffled around, red-faced, and bent to lower her tight trousers, easing them, with some sucking in of breath and wincing, down over her bottom.

“Oh…I…say,” breathed the Minister, sounding awed. “You didn’t lie. You have tasted our ways. And you, Commander, you like the whip hand?”

“I do indeed. Did I say you could pull those up, Ensign?”

Suka dropped her hands, keeping her eyes on the ground, knowing if she raised them they would meet the gaze of the keeper by the door.

The Minister walked around behind her, and she felt cold fingers trail along the welts. Her skin burst into goosebumps and she emitted a tiny squeak.

“You used a cane,” he noted. “You seem to have had practice. These are expertly laid.”

“Suka is my first submissive,” confessed Paul. “As you know, our laws forbid the expression of power exchange within a sexual relationship. This was our first opportunity. But I had practiced on…soft furnishings. In my youth.”

The Minister laughed. “You poor, repressed people. Perhaps it is as well that you find yourself trapped here. Perhaps you can live freely and fully among us.”

“We would be honoured.”

“Your relationship is that of bond master and servant?” questioned the Minister. “In every respect.” His hand landed on Suka’s thigh, stiff with dried semen. “Ah, I see that it is. You use her carnally.”

Suka shivered. Paul seemed lost for words at this blatant remark.

“Well, that is good,” continued the Minister. “Your servant can cover herself now, if it pleases you, Commander.”

“You may,” he said gruffly to her, and she began to hoist the trousers, with the same discomfort as lowering them had caused.

Turning back around, she moved closer to Paul and buried her face in his arm, unable to face the Minister. Paul’s chuckle was low and affectionate and, to her relief, he pulled her closer in with a protective arm.

“Well, I find I can’t doubt you,” said the Minister, stroking his chin. “It’s a risk, I know, but I’m inclined to offer acceptance into our civilisation. On the condition, of course, that you assimilate well and undertake to respect our culture. I will place you under observation. You, Commander Paul, will undergo a course of instruction in conduct becoming a Sevarian overlord. I think you may take to it. As for your servant, she shall be prepared for her legal bonding. For the period of one quartile, you will not meet. Keeper, send for the Overseers of the Way.”

“We will not meet for…?”

“A quartile,” muttered Paul. “Equivalent of eight weeks or so.”

“But—”

Paul took her hands. “Be brave. I know you can be brave, Suka. If we do this, we can live the way we’ve always dreamed of. I want to do this, to be with you. If you want this too…”

He broke off.

Suka nodded, emboldened by Paul’s declaration.

“Yes. It’s what I want. I’m just a bit scared.”

“Face your fear. I’ll make it worth your while. Do you believe in me?”

“Yes.”

* * * *

Veiled and shrouded in white robes, Suka allowed her bonded attendants to help her up the steps to the temple. Leaving the training centre had been an unexpectedly emotional experience—in the eight weeks she had spent learning her submissive arts, she had grown close to her Paladian fellows. What a revelation it had been, to speak openly of her needs and desires with like-minded women. Frequent bouts of homesickness for her old life were tended to with almost psychic kindness by the girls she had come to view as her sisters. Soon she would be with her master, they would reassure her. His dominion over her would make everything well again. Then they would bring her the warm spiced wine of the Paladians, or a box of crystallised hola-fruit, and run her a perfumed bath.

And today, their reassurances would come to pass. She looked up through her gauzy veil at that building, recalling so exactly what had passed there before with Commander Paul that she shivered with excited desire. A real bonding now, with a real audience. She was ready for it.

Entering the temple, she felt straight away that intoxicating flowering of lust, and she looked through the crowds, eager to catch her first glimpse of Paul.

Yes, he was there. Splendidly clad in the sparkling black robes of a Sevarian bond master, Paul looked even more striking than she remembered. His bearing was prouder, his expression more confident, his head held higher—Suka would not have believed this even possible, back in the days on board ship when she had considered him an arrogant, overbearing prick. What a long time ago that seemed.

For now, the man who used to arouse only irritation caused her heart to thunder, her cheeks to flush and her thighs to dampen in anticipation.

He caught sight of her and she felt pierced by the intensity of passion and expectation in his eyes. Yes, this was right. This would be her future.

You have waited for me, Master, and now I am coming to you.

She moved through the crowds, oblivious to their noise and motion, knowing only that she and Paul would be joined forever in that unique bond that constituted the Sevarian Way.

About the Author

Justine Elyot is a UK based writer of erotic romance and erotica. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies from Black Lace, Cleis Press, Xcite and Constable & Robinson. Her first full-length book, On Demand, was published by Black Lace in 2009, followed by The Business of Pleasure (Xcite Books) in September 2010.

Email: justineelyot@gmail.com

Justine Elyot loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Justine Elyot

Honeytrapped

Competitive Nature

Mi Amore: Sempre

Master Me: A Very Personal Trainer

EUROPA, EUROPA

KS Augustin

Author’s Note

There is not as much information about Europa as I was expecting and, in fact, Jupiter’s moon is the subject of debate over important facts such as subsurface temperature and thickness of the ice crust that covers the entire moon.

I was delighted to discover Melosh et al.’s paper, which posits a subsurface temperature above zero degrees Celsius. That gave me the idea of using dolphin characteristics for Salvia and Rhus. Considering that both humans and dolphins are mammals, the two species would have many behaviours and characteristics in common.

Richard Greenberg, in addition to providing a good overview of Europa, is a thin-ice advocate and, after seeing images of the moon, and the number of seams and ‘cracks’ that crisscross its surface, I’m tending to that idea as well.

In order to understand a bit of what it would be like to live in a cold dark marine environment and yet call it home, I also turned to the BBC series, The Blue Planet. In particular, the episode on animals that live below the level at which sunlight penetrates water was fascinating and, if you’ll forgive the pun, illuminating. It was from that programme that I got the idea of bioluminescence as a form of communication and the realisation that a pitch black marine environment isn’t.

The rest is pure speculation on my part.

British Broadcasting Commission. The Blue Planet DVD series, 2002.

H.J. Melosh, A.G. Ekholm, A.P. Showman, and R.D. Lorenz. Is Europa’s Subsurface Water Ocean Warm? Lunar and Planetary Science Journal, Vol. XXXIII (2002).

Richard Greenberg, Unmasking Europa: The Search for Life on Jupiter’s Ocean Moon. Springer, 2008.

Chapter One

The signal to return to the station manifested as a sharp pain in Salvia’s upper arm. She flinched and a soft eddy hit her in the back, propelling her forward. It had been several Earth-months since she’d last received a signal and she was surprised to get it.

Hadn’t they forgotten her yet?

Duty warred with rebellion before finally winning. Taking a deep breath, Salvia swam to the station, knowing it would take her the best part of a day to reach it. She wasn’t worried about feeling another painful jab. The tracking device located somewhere on her body should have relayed her position and direction of travel. And she was doing what they wanted, after all.

Her route would take her past the Bayless Plume, which was good. She needed to remind herself that she had achieved great things in the past year and a half. Things that nobody else from the station could have achieved. Things that had increased the profits and prestige of the company she worked for. She kept those thoughts in mind as she swam, effortlessly cutting through the dark water that was her home.

The station shone like a brilliant jewel set into the ice crust. Salvia blinked down her inner eyelid against the glare of light and grimaced. Sometimes she couldn’t believe she was related to the station’s inhabitants. They had no inner membrane to block the bright stabs of illumination that constantly surrounded them. How could anybody see anything clearly under such bleaching? It beggared belief.

She swam up the high tube situated off-centre at the bottom of the station. Even though she was used to the dark, the inside of the tube always appeared to her to be menacing and claustrophobic. Flicking her legs, she headed up almost to the top. Curved rectangles of light patterned her body as she swept past windows peering out into the funnel, but nobody was watching her. It would have been rare if there had been.

Doctor Faisbain was waiting for her in the Interaction Room. Salvia would have laughed at the title if she didn’t already know there were cameras everywhere, watching each move she made. Interaction Room? More like Getting Orders Room. Out in the ocean, she was free. Here in the station, she felt pinned down and shackled.

As if responding to her thoughts, a clear panel below her feet slid shut, trapping her in a cylinder of water. Salvia watched her exit from the station narrow and disappear before looking up again.

“Hello, Dr Faisbain,” she sub-vocalised.

She wasn’t sure how it worked, but that little bit of sound seemed to be enough to communicate with the humans on the other side of the thick transparent panel.

“Hello, Salvia.”

The doctor was an older woman with grey streaks in her hair. Whenever she smiled, the wrinkles on her face grew deeper. She had always been nice to Salvia but Salvia knew the woman was constrained by the company. If Dr Faisbain was ordered to imprison Salvia indefinitely within the station, there was no doubt she would do it.

“You’re looking well,” the doctor continued. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Five months, I believe.”

Salvia flicked her feet, a movement that sent her bobbing further up in the water. Moving her arms slightly, she approached the window, lowering herself again so she was eye-level with the xeno-marine biologist.

You’re looking older, she thought. More tired. Has the company been bullying you while I’ve been away?

“You’re looking well too,” was all she said.

Faisbain leaned against the bench at her back, her arms outstretched behind her as they rested on the flat surface.

“I know this may distress you, but I think it’s important to revisit the last few months. To make sure we’re both on the same page.”

Page of what? Salvia wondered, but kept silent.

The doctor was right. She knew she was not going to enjoy the conversation.

“A year ago, you found the Ivory Chasm for us,” Faisbain began. “This was after you mapped the Bayless Plume. Two such objectives, discovery and a completed survey, in the space of one month was tremendous work and the company was eager for you to go further afield, to scout locations a week away from the station. Maybe even further.”

She paused and pursed her lips. “But there was a problem, wasn’t there, Salvia?”

“I didn’t want to do it,” Salvia muttered.

Faisbain nodded. “That’s right. You didn’t want to do it. And from a promising start two years ago, the productivity of this station crashed. We wondered if you were suffering from some kind of dietary deficiency, but you weren’t, were you?”

Salvia shook her head.

“Nor was it the difficulty of the task. You’re a highly intelligent young woman who took great joy in your past achievements.”

Salvia watched the doctor silently, keeping in position with faint twitches of her limbs.

“Then, a little over seven months ago, you came into the station and told me that you weren’t going to do any more work for the company unless we found a way to alleviate your boredom.”

Put like that, Salvia conceded that it made her sound more than a little churlish. But the station staff always had things to do and, when they didn’t, they had company to spend time with. She, on the other hand, had no one. Nobody to share her discoveries with for almost two whole Earth years. Under the circumstances, she hadn’t considered her request so unreasonable.

“I contacted the company with your request when you made it, and I have some good news for you.”

The smile that broke across Faisbain’s face was sudden and bright.

“The company accelerated a current programme of theirs and shipped it to us here on Europa.”

Salvia thought she must not be getting something, because that sentence didn’t make any sense to her.

“Shipped what?” she asked.

“Why, a companion, of course. A male. He docked yesterday with the Nemo. We’ve been running him through a battery of tests to make sure he’s fully compatible with the ocean environment but think he’s ready for his first exploratory swim in his new home. Would you like to meet him?”

Salvia blinked her outer eyelids. She hadn’t really been expecting such a swift response from her employer and creator. Had they really created a male, just for her? Just like her? Caught between apprehension and a growing excitement, she said nothing.

“If you swim down to Port Five, you’ll be able to meet him in person,” the biologist told her, adding a cajoling note to her voice. She turned and pressed a button on an adjacent console. The panel beneath Salvia’s feet slid open again. “Why don’t you go now and I’ll meet up with you there?”

Faisbain turned and moved towards the door at the back of the room. Feeling she had no choice in the matter, that she had already been dismissed, Salvia slowly flipped her body and swam down to one of three human-sized hatches along the bottom of the station.

She skimmed close to the metal skin of the outpost as she swam. It was cooler up here near the surface, only a couple of degrees below freezing. A normal human would have suffered from hypothermia in minutes. Salvia, on the other hand, felt the water as nothing more than a refreshing rush of coolness against her flesh.

She liked the variation in the marine climates of Jupiter’s moon. It was clear and a little cold adjacent to the crust of ice that enfolded the rocky satellite, except where the hot water from geothermal vents weakened the solid water, forming cracks that looked out into the vacuum of space. Afraid of what might happen if she was caught in a boiling updraft, Salvia stayed well away from the ice, except for her visits to the station. Where she normally swam, deep down, sometimes skimming the moon’s rocky core, it was warm and comforting. There were no dangers down there she couldn’t deal with, as long as she kept her eyes open and didn’t swim directly into a hot and bubbly geothermal vent.

She saw a large illuminated number five next to a hatch and slowed, looking through the neighbouring window with curiosity.

The window was set into the floor of the fifth launch bay, looking out into the open ocean. Salvia looked up at the foreshortened legs of normal humans as three of them moved about. They were shifting a long metal tank closer to the hatch. The tank must have been heavy because the three station members looked like they were straining their muscles. One of them even had beads of sweat on his forehead. Salvia reflexively lifted a hand to her face but, of course, she didn’t sweat. And even if she did, the water surrounding her would wash it away in a second.

After they moved the tank to the position they wanted, they started tilting it so the end of the tank sat upright on the hatch opening. At this point, Dr Faisbain entered. The scientist wasn’t aware of it but, in the time she spent training Salvia for her job, Salvia had learnt to lip-read through the thick transparent panels. She narrowed her eyes, damning the glare, and concentrated on the biologist’s lips.

“How far are we from a ‘go’ situation?” Faisbain asked.

Luckily, someone who was only a little in profile answered. His mouth was almost fully visible to Salvia.

“We can jettison the cargo now if you like,” he said.

Cargo? Salvia thought they were handling a person like her. What kind of cargo were they going to drop into the ocean? A robot submersible? An oceanic sensor array?

Faisbain nodded.

“Let’s do it,” she said with a sigh. “Haber wants his luggage in the ocean yesterday. But keep sharp. The greatest difficulty will be from thermal shock. Better to find out sooner rather than later if we have a dud on our hands.”

Another technician moved to a console and said something. Unfortunately her back was to Salvia’s curious gaze so only a low buzz was audible.

What did they mean about jettisoning cargo? About the cargo being a dud? Salvia wanted to think about the questions more but a dull creak vibrated through the water towards her. She turned in time to see the hatch fully retract. In a plume of obscuring white bubbles, something dropped into the water.

Salvia knew she should have approached the object but she stayed where she was, confused by the different meanings being discussed in the launch bay. Then the object began to move by itself. Salvia watched it cautiously, then gasped as her vision cleared and the bubbles rose to the station’s metal skin and skidded upwards.

It was a person! Her heart thumping, she approached the stranger, circling with slow practiced movements, her gaze never leaving the newcomer’s body.

It wasn’t a her, as Salvia was expecting. It was a him. Like her, he had a slit low on his abdomen, but it was short and his skin was smooth and unbroken at the juncture of his thighs. Dr Faisbain had told her that many of her adaptive features were taken from Earth mammals called dolphins and Salvia could see this was one example of it.

She circled him again while he remained calm in the water. When she was in front of him, his large dark eyes focused on her, but he didn’t turn his head when she went around his back. His skin was smooth and glowing a neutral purple, even along his spine where a dorsal fin erupted. Salvia had been told of early attempts to craft something that was more fish-like, able to fan out or lie flat against the body depending on circumstances, but they couldn’t get it to work. Eventually, the scientists settled on a thick fixed membrane, kept erect by extruded vertebrae.

The webbing between his fingers and long toes were just like hers, which meant the light shallow mounds on his forehead, cheeks and chin must be on hers as well. She had never seen more than dim glass reflections of her facial photophores, those large organs that augmented her vision and turned the dark of the ocean into a wonderland of exquisite detail. The mounds looked…interesting, like small shiny mirrors reflecting the world.

Her skin gleamed blue with satisfaction, shifting to orange then back to blue as she continued her leisurely examination. She flexed her shoulders, almost sure that hers weren’t quite as broad as his. And while her legs were muscular and powerful, the stranger’s seemed to be bigger and thicker, as were his arms. If he could help her lift away rocks on their exploratory journeys, he would prove to be very useful.

“Salvia.”

The voice came from the speaker just next to the hatch.

Dr Faisbain. She’d forgotten.

She spun around and headed for the window. Inside the launch bay, Faisbain was crouched down, watching her.

“We haven’t had time to properly introduce you,” she said with a smile. “Salvia, your new companion is called Rhus.” Her gaze shifted to somewhere behind Salvia’s right shoulder. “Rhus, this is Salvia. Up till now, she’s been the only full-time resident of Europa.”

Salvia felt ripples brush her fin as Rhus approached.

“Hello, Salvia.”

His voice, while higher in tone than a normal human’s and designed to cut through water with less interference, was still deeper than hers.

“Hello,” she replied politely, not knowing what else to say. Her body, radiating yellow and pink was, she hoped, the only indication of her embarrassment.

Dr Faisbain chuckled as she watched them through the porthole. “Why don’t you take Rhus for a quick look around, Salvia? Don’t be too long. We need to complete his medical check-up before we release him into your tender care.”

Salvia was more than happy to hear the request. Without waiting to see if Rhus was following, she darted away from the station.

At first, she had her stretch of beloved water to herself. Then, she felt the presence of someone skimming close to her. She flashed him a look then, annoyed, dived down, spiralling through the currents like a torpedo. To her chagrin, he followed. She levelled out at the Zaymen Ridge, the first and most explored of Europa’s underwater features, and slalomed between its stubby pillars, trying to outdistance him. It didn’t work. When she came to an exhilarated halt near the end of the ridge, he was there, only a couple of lengths behind her. She noted with satisfaction, however, that he appeared to be more out of breath than her.

“What did you do that for?” he asked, in between gasps. He flexed his back rhythmically, urging more water into his lungs.

“Dr. Faisbain told me to give you a ‘quick look around’,” she told him archly, “and that’s exactly what I did.”

He snorted a chuckle and a small thread of bubbles rose to the surface.

“It was very impressive,” he finally admitted.

Salvia didn’t know if Rhus had made that up to make her feel better but it set a warm glow of pride in her belly. He was radiating blue and purple, which meant he wasn’t in an heightened emotional state. Maybe, she thought with a flick of her foot, he was telling the truth.

“In fact,” he continued, “I didn’t think I could keep up.”

It was Salvia’s turn to be impressed. Even as she was darting from one outcrop to another, she had kept an eye on him, gleaming brightly in the water behind her. Up till that minute, she thought she was the fastest swimmer in the ocean. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“How did you get here?” she asked.

“On a ship. It’s called the Nemo and it came from Mars.”

“And didn’t you have any place to exercise on this ship from Mars?”

He laughed and the burst of bubbles from his mouth momentarily obscured his features. “Haven’t you ever been on a ship?”

“Of course I have,” she answered, frowning deeply. “It’s just…I wasn’t awake at the time.”

“You were asleep?” His voice was incredulous. “Did you come from Mars? If you did, you must have been asleep for the entire four months! Even the normals don’t sleep for that long.”

Salvia flashed an embarrassed yellow again. “It wasn’t sleep, exactly. Dr Faisbain told me it was a state of suspended animation. That must be how you got here too.”

He had probably picked up the name of the ship from one of the technicians, she thought, and was using it to try and impress her.

“No.” He shook his head. “I was conscious almost the entire time.”

“Conscious? Were you able to see anything?”

As much as Salvia loved her watery home, the presence of the station was a constant reminder that there were other wonders beyond the ice crust. Other worlds. There were planets where the water had dried up, yet normals still managed to live there. There were other habitats under domes, protecting the inhabitants from hard vacuum or pollution. Some planets had rings around them, glittering garlands of ice and rock. Even Jupiter had thick colourful bands covering it. Had Rhus seen any of them?

“The crew kept me in a transparent observation tank for the entire journey. It was almost as if I was living with them. The captain used to come to the observation tank all the time and talk to me.”

There was a note of pride in his voice that Salvia envied.

She had always known she was something apart from the rest of the station’s inhabitants. Dr Faisbain had been kind but firm on that point. Salvia was not a normal and shouldn’t think like a normal. Instead, she was told to open her mind to the wonders of Europa and take her cues from its marine landscape. Thinking like a normal, Faisbain told her, might only serve to narrow her perspective.

Except…

Normals were the only other sentient beings on Europa and being deliberately shut off from them was like being thrown out of a community for being too strange, too different. It was something that had obviously not happened to Rhus.

Salvia would have to think about that. About why she was treated one way and Rhus another.

“Come on,” she told him, not caring that her voice was a bit brusque. “I should get you back to the station before the normals start panicking.”

“Then what happens?” he asked.

She shrugged, at that moment not really caring what happened to him. “That’s up to them to decide.”

She headed for the station at a more leisurely pace, a clearly puzzled Rhus lagging behind.

Chapter Two

Rhus wanted to power through the water. He wanted to skim the ice sheets at the moon’s surface while on his back, watching the small bubbles trapped beneath the frozen water wobble as he neared them. He wanted to dive to the depths and slalom the ridge again.

He wanted to swim.

He radiated a happy blue and purple as he followed Salvia back to the station, wondering if she understood how lucky she was. All this time, she was living in the most perfect environment imaginable while he was trawling the vacuum between planets. As much as the trip on the spaceship impressed and fascinated him, the feel of free-moving water against his skin told him he was finally home. He hoped nobody would try to take it away from him.

The woman Salvia referred to as Dr Faisbain was waiting for them at Hatch Number Five. She looked older than a lot of the people who were in the spaceship with him, but she also looked kinder. Certainly, she was a lot more relaxed than the courteous yet stiff captain of the Nemo, Haber. The ship crew were often very serious and intense, even when supposedly relaxing, and they didn’t smile as often as Dr Faisbain. Rhus thought she must be a very important person to be given a position at the Europa station.

“I brought him back in one piece,” Salvia was telling her.

Salvia’s voice was higher than his. In the background, through the porthole’s window, he heard the faint vibration of her voice as it was piped into the launch bay, artificially deepened and processed somehow so normals could understand it.

“That’s good,” Faisbain replied with a smile. “If you don’t mind, Salvia, we’d like to keep Rhus overnight at the lab for observation.”

“Observation?” Salvia’s feet glowed red with dismay but Rhus noticed that she made sure to keep those extremities below the level of the porthole. He didn’t know how Salvia was able to keep her emotions so controlled like that. He couldn’t do it. He would have to ask her to teach him.

“Now that he’s had some exercise on Europa and a chance to breathe in its water, we’ll need to do a full health check-up. He’s been in a very limited environment up till now and we want to make sure his body can cope with conditions on the moon.”

“But didn’t you make him so he could cope?” Salvia asked.

Rhus was surprised at her question. Only a little while ago, he was convinced she didn’t care if he stayed or left. Now, she appeared to be arguing on his behalf.

“We did,” Faisbain conceded, “but sometimes things go wrong. Things we might not be aware of until we’ve done a full examination. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine. Once we’ve checked his health, we’ll insert the tracking beacon then we’ll release him to begin work tomorrow.”

Salvia’s feet pulsed a quick flash of vivid scarlet—anger—before being cloaked in the simmering darker red again.

“And you have some work for us?” she asked.

“We kept our side of the bargain, remember?”

What were they talking about? Rhus wanted to interrupt and ask but there was such an air of intensity between the two women that he didn’t dare. Besides, he was starting to feel very tired. Maybe a bit of a rest was exactly what he needed.

It was Faisbain who broke the tension by moving away from the porthole and stretching her shoulders. Watching intently, Rhus repeated the action in the cool dark water.

“Tomorrow, Salvia.” This time, the scientist’s voice brooked no objections.

The metal hatch next to the porthole slid open. Rhus swam over to it and looked up into the tube of water.

“We’ll complete our tests as quickly as possible.” Faisbain’s voice again. “I promise.”

With a last look at Salvia, who gave him a reluctant nod, Rhus swam up into the tube and tried not to notice the lid screwing shut beneath his feet.

* * * *

There was a set of passages. The station’s staff knew about them because they were escape exits, to be used in the remote case that the major shaft leading up through the off-centre of the station somehow collapsed. They didn’t think Salvia knew about it because they thought she was stupid.

Salvia, Salvia thought, is young, but far from stupid.

After Rhus had entered the tube, Salvia told Dr Faisbain she would revisit the Zaymen Ridge. There was something interesting she had seen there, she said. She even swam halfway there, so the tracking sensors would note her route. Then she doubled back.

Salvia was more than aware of the risk she was taking. There was nothing stopping a technician from glancing at a station screen and seeing her head back to the station, but she had done this several times before and hadn’t been caught on any of those occasions. She was betting that the novelty of Rhus would mean even less attention would be paid to her.

Unlike the station’s main water shaft, the passage Salvia headed for was unlit. If she was a normal, she wouldn’t have even noticed the dark circle halfway up the vertical wall of the station, but the slow eddies that filtered through it called to the ocean creature in her, whispering of tubes full of water, rarely navigated.

The pipe was covered by a thick, open-mesh lid. Salvia swam right up to the lid and stretched her arm between the ribbons of criss-crossing metal. Her fingers grazed a small manual release button on the inside of the tube. She pressed it and quickly withdrew her arm, letting the lid slide into a recess. Lowering herself, so her dorsal fin wouldn’t hit the metal, she quietly entered the pipe.

From past visits, Salvia had roughly worked out where the major sections of the station were situated. She had, she’d been told, excellent spatial cognition. As if she didn’t know.

She swam straight ahead, following the curve of the tube. At the first intersection, she took the downward pipe, then turned right. That would take her to the scientific observation section. Dr Faisbain’s territory. Salvia put a hand out and her webbed fingers touched the curved metal wall.

“—finished?”

That sounded like Dr Faisbain.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Salvia didn’t recognise the second voice, but thought it must be one of the technicians.

“And the beacon’s inserted?”

“Yes, Doctor. And I’ve calibrated it so it’ll activate the upper arm sensory trigger on signal.”

Absently, Salvia rubbed her arm. Every call from the station resulted in the stabbing pain in her upper arm. It was useful to know that disabling the beacon would also disable the pain. Or so she hoped.

“Good. I’ll be at the meeting if you need me.”

There were muffled sounds then a rhythmic pattern. Feet. Salvia kept her fingers on the wall while she paced along with the sound. The normals hadn’t realised how effectively vibrations travelled through metal and water. Living in air, they were used to the imperfect transmission of sound, not realising that Salvia could hear them often more clearly that they heard themselves.

Dr Faisbain continued to walk. The only time Salvia met any confusion was if simultaneous conversations took place in rooms next to each other. And sound could get muffled if there was some kind of thick dampening material between the person and the floor. Luckily, there were small rugs only in a few areas, such as in the bedrooms and a couple of the small meeting rooms, and important meetings usually meant the involvement of most of the station’s staff. The rest of the company’s building, wedged between ice and liquid water, was sheeted in metal, which was easy to keep clean…and also very efficient at transmitting sound.

Kicking her feet every now and then, Salvia kept up with Dr Faisbain’s tread. She was expecting the doctor to stop at one of her usual rooms but was surprised when the scientist kept walking all the way to the boardroom. Salvia frowned and pressed herself closer to the wall. The boardroom was only peopled during the monthly, station-wide briefing and information sessions and lay vacant in between times. Salvia cast her mind back and knew that the last monthly meeting had been last week. There shouldn’t be another gathering in the boardroom for another three weeks at least. Something very important must be going on.

Even though she knew they couldn’t hear her, Salvia breathed shallowly and listened in, her cheek pushed up against the metal skin of the tube.

“—glad you could make it, Dr Faisbain.”

Salvia didn’t know who was speaking, but the tone of voice was familiar. It was courteous but masking condescension.

“I came as quickly as I could, Captain Haber.”

There was the scrape of a chair and a bit of murmuring as Faisbain sat down.

Salvia didn’t know who this ‘Captain Haber’ was. She hadn’t heard the name before. Was he the captain of the ship that had brought Rhus?

“And how is our newest denizen of Europa’s oceans?” That was Haber’s voice.

“Rhus is doing better than expected,” Faisbain conceded. “Considering the accelerated medium in which he was developed, his skeletal and muscular structures are amazingly robust. He does seem to tire easily, however. Tests indicate a sub-standard level of oxygen absorption from the water, so it’s obvious that organ growth is lagging but I’m sure he’ll come up to speed quickly once he’s in his home environment.”

“And Salvia?”

“She’s fine.” Salvia knew the scientist well enough to detect the thread of stiffness in her tone. She wondered if anybody else heard it as well.

“We’ve spent a lot of money on this venture already, Dr Faisbain. I’m expecting something more than ‘fine’, especially considering the rushed nature of the second creature’s development.”

Creature? Were they referring to…Rhus? And her?

“I’d like to remind you that Salvia and Rhus are both human, Captain.” The censure in her voice was obvious now, even through layers of steel. “They were grown from human stock and founded on human stock. With the exception of marine technology in their lungs, skin and eye structure, and some additional cetacean adaptations, they are fully human.”

“No human has ever cost as much as much as one of your…patients, Dr Faisbain.”

Haber’s voice was a bit muffled. Salvia imagined he would only sound like that if he was leaning forward and perhaps resting his hands on something that interfered with sound transmission. A table?

“Costs that the company has recouped many times over.”

Salvia knew there were others in the room. She could hear their shuffling interfering with her following the conversation, but it appeared the doctor and Haber were the only ones willing to talk. Salvia wondered why that was. Were hostility-laden arguments between normals some kind of spectator sport? Did someone keep score? Was that why others were in the room? None of the other monthly meetings had sounded anything like this.

“The new compounds that are being synthesised to form lightweight, innovative building materials came from Europa,” Dr Faisbain said. “So did the material to create new bone growth matrices. The samples Salvia has brought back, from regions deeper and farther away than we dare explore, have led to innovations in fields as diverse as industrial compounds to micro-surgical techniques.”

Salvia straightened her spine and smiled.

Yes! You tell that superior-sounding arrogant man, Dr Faisbain.

“And such discoveries have stopped for the past half a year, haven’t they, Dr Faisbain?”

Salvia stilled.

“Understandable, under the circumstances,” Faisbain said. Her voice was softer now and full of…uncertainty? Salvia frowned and continued to listen.

“We created a modified human being,” she continued in a quieter voice, “sent her out into an ocean of darkness and expected only blind obedience? We don’t expect such behaviour from domesticated pets, much less another sentient being.”

“She’s a tool of the company that employs us both.”

“She’s a young woman, Captain Haber. An intelligent, sensitive and lonely young woman. The only thing that surprises me is how long she waited before staging her mutiny. I know you are on the company’s board, Captain Haber, and that you specifically requested the ship captaincy so you could relay the company’s…displeasure to me in person but, on your return, could you also tell the rest of the board that we’re dealing with an intelligent being here and not a circus animal?”

There was a long silence and Salvia wondered whether the normals had used hand signals to indicate the meeting was at an end. She hadn’t heard any noises associated with people leaving. She tried to imagine what it might look like in the boardroom. Besides their voices, how did normals send emotional signals to one another? They didn’t have bioluminescent skin like she did, and their tones didn’t seem to vary much, staying in a lower range that she found signified secrets to be told, information that wasn’t to be shared. As far as she was concerned, normals were more about hiding things than revealing them.

“When can we send the other one out?” Captain Haber finally asked.

“Rhus”—there was a slight stress on his name—“will be ready to begin work tomorrow. We had a problem with the tracking device that was implanted on Mars and had to replace it. Other than that, he’s coping admirably.”

“And the girl will start work again?”

“Salvia is a reasonable young woman. She knows we made a deal. We stuck to our end. I’m sure she’ll stick to hers.”

“We’re after results, Dr Faisbain. In the absence of new product launches, our share price has remained more or less static for more than half a year. Considering our investment here, the board considers this unacceptable. We’re depending on your hybrids to lift the bottom line.”

“I’m sure you are, Captain Haber. And may I remind you that Rhus’ arrival is only an acceleration of a plan that was already agreed to? Based on the past, I’m expecting a significant rise in commercial discoveries once both Salvia and Rhus start working together.”

There wasn’t much of importance said after that. The voices became more relaxed, others chimed in and Salvia gathered the main, combative part of the meeting was at an end. When she heard someone enter the room, announcing the arrival of food, she knew it was time to go.

Using measured strokes, Salvia headed out of the pipe system and into open water, increasing her speed as she hit the ocean currents. She didn’t want to be seen as being too close to the station should a technician decide to check up on her.

She headed for her home, a cave system twenty kilometres away from the station. Although she had a bay at the station that was supposedly her own ‘room’, it had been Dr Faisbain who’d encouraged her to be more independent, telling her it wouldn’t always be practical swimming back to the base while she was, for example, exploring underwater terrain six sectors away. The biologist encouraged her to think more expansively and Salvia had taken her advice to heart, not only thinking differently about where she called home but also what she ate.

The station had been set up to dispense daily rations and, most of the time, Salvia had dutifully gone and collected her meals. There were three of them for each day, labelled ‘Breakfast’, ‘Lunch’ and ‘Dinner’. This had amused and puzzled Salvia no end. Did the normals really regulate their lives to such an extent? When she asked Faisbain about it, the scientist had replied that, yes, most normals ate their meals three times a day.

Salvia said nothing but she was smiling inside. What if someone suddenly became hungry in between one of these regimented meal times? What if they happened across something delicious in the course of their work? Were they supposed to ignore a tasty tidbit just because they hadn’t reached the eating part of their cycle?

But that wasn’t the only puzzle the normals posed. Faisbain explained that, at first, the normals weren’t sure what was waiting for them under the icy crust of Europa.

“We had expected a barren salty ocean, stretching all the way around Jupiter’s moon,” Faisbain had told her during her third physical examination. “And when we started the drilling, for the station siting…well, we discovered more surprises.”

“Like the thickness of the ice,” Salvia said from inside the observation tank.

“That’s right.” The older woman’s voice was distracted from referring to several monitors. “Definitely thinner than we were expecting. And the water was warmer too.”

“And full of life.”

Salvia had been younger then and still filled with the wonder of the dark watery world. Except it wasn’t dark to her. Her eyes had been modified so what appeared to be complete blackness to normals was actually a landscape of shading and colour to her. The currents were faint ribbons of blue, sinuously weaving their way between ridges and slowly fading into larger currents and bodies of water. Schools of marine creatures resembling fish appeared as white and silver flashes, darting across water, meeting up and dispersing, flowing around obstacles and meeting up on the other side as if they were one entity, temporarily sliced into individual streams that seamlessly coalesced again.

Salvia’s stomach would rumble when she saw the shoals of white-fish. There were bigger predators in Europa’s oceans but Salvia knew she had a couple of advantages over them. She was quick. And smart. It didn’t take long for her to capture flapping slivers of firm flesh in her hands and mouth and crunch them between her sharp teeth. She swallowed their rich blood as she chewed and considered her small catches of fish to be superior in taste and texture to the processed blocks that the station dispensed.

She was given medical care by the normals. And food. Dr Faisbain was kind and even joked with her from time to time. But even during her first tentative forays into Europa, Salvia knew the normals weren’t her friends. They could turn into foes at the least opportunity.

Now she was safely in her cave, Salvia could muse a little more clearly on the meeting she’d overheard. The words Captain Haber spoke seemed to reinforce their opinion of her and Rhus as nothing more than animals trained to sniff out and recover minerals and structures that might be used by the mysterious, almighty ‘company’ to ‘increase profits’. She wondered if the station might withhold more important things if both she and Rhus refused to cooperate with the people on the station.

Afraid that this might be the case, almost from the beginning, Salvia had been hoarding the rations the station provided. There was no thought of mutiny at first, just a general unease that she thought she needed insurance against. She hadn’t told Dr Faisbain of the move. After all, wasn’t Dr Faisbain also a normal? Salvia considered her small cache to be her emergency reserve, in case some disaster befell her. She had thought that that situation had occurred several months ago, when she’d gone back to the station to tell them she refused to do any more work until they provided a companion for her.

As she’d expected, she was threatened with starvation. Until that point, the normals somehow thought she was existing on the compressed dusty bricks they called food. When she laughed at them and showed them a wriggling white-fish in her hand, then munched on it in front of them, they looked shocked. They would have threatened to withhold medical care but both parties knew Salvia was in the peak of health. She had been created to be the perfect complement to Europa and, unfortunately, she was.

When they ran out of threats, they finally settled down and listened, while Salvia told them what she wanted.

Salvia hadn’t cared if the companion she asked for was male or female. All she wanted was someone to share Europa with. The white-fish were too simple creatures for her to communicate with and their predators, for all that their size proclaimed some degree of prowess in Europa’s oceans, were also simple, intent on eating and breeding. There hadn’t been a single creature in her new home she could talk to or share new discoveries with. The station personnel, including Dr Faisbain, were more interested in what she found rather than how she felt. So she had refused further assignments, further scouting missions into the ocean, until she had a confidant. A friend.

And they delivered one to her.

What she hadn’t bargained on were the conflicting emotions that Rhus’ appearance caused. She had been expecting someone like her, quiet and curious. She hadn’t been expecting a brash male who boasted about his journey to Europa, a journey she couldn’t herself recall. She had wanted someone to share confidences with, but Rhus appeared to be somebody who was more intent on demonstrating his own superiority. She’d been happy when she heard Dr Faisbain tell the rest of the room, including Captain Haber, that Rhus’ organs were still immature. That meant he wasn’t as strong as he had first intimated. As first human inhabitant of the moon, Salvia was still its mistress and holder of more knowledge about Europa than any other person in the galaxy.

Salvia smiled to herself. She liked the fact she had some company, at last. But she wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting Rhus too much. From the initial looks of things, he was still a tool of the ‘company’ that Salvia mistrusted. He would need to prove himself before Salvia shared her concerns with him.

She flicked a glance to a small section of the cave floor. It was piled with the station rations she had saved. Although Salvia had laughed at the station staff when they threatened to starve her, she was hiding uncertainty. Maybe there was an annual migratory cycle she didn’t yet know about, where life would disappear to another part of the moon, too far away for her to comfortably reach. The rations were her insurance for such times.

There was also a second way out of her cave. That exit was small and low. After finding it, Salvia rarely used it, entering and exiting her home via the larger, primary entrance. Although the normals depended on her for much of their exploration, she couldn’t discount them sending out autonomous marine drones of their own. In case there was any trouble between the station and herself, she didn’t want to betray her secret escape route.

Floating in the closed comfort of her cave, Salvia let herself drift upwards until she could reach out and touch the rough ceiling. So much had happened that it was difficult to take it all in.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and waited for the new day. And Rhus’ arrival.

Chapter Three

“How are you feeling?”

Rhus twirled in the water, his skin taking on a reddish tint.

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

“We can take a break any time you like. Europa is a lot to take in, especially on your first work assignment.”

Rhus frowned and didn’t reply. Why was Salvia intent on treating him like he was newly out of an incubation chamber? He may be feeling a bit out of breath, but Dr Faisbain had told him that that was entirely normal.

“What’s so special about the Zaymen Ridge anyway?” he was finally driven to ask. “I thought you’d already explored that sector thoroughly.”

They had both floated through a briefing earlier this morning and were now tens of kilometres away from the station.

“The ridge is a very dynamic environment,” Salvia answered from a little ahead of him.

Rhus didn’t like admitting it, but he admired the economical grace that powered Salvia. In comparison, his own swimming was clumsy and uncoordinated.

“Every month, it appears that something has changed,” she said. “A vent has closed, or I spy a new one beginning to form.”

Several times during their journey to the ridge, he had lagged behind, only to have Salvia patiently stop and wait for him. If she had been angry, Rhus would have felt better, but she was calm and friendly, radiating serenity and patience. Treating him like a baby. He tried tamping down his anger, but his skin continued to glow a pale red. Just to make things worse, although Salvia had to have noticed his mood, she pretended she didn’t.

“For some reason, the Zaymen Ridge is exceptionally rich in the minerals it contains. Dr Faisbain tells me that several of my discoveries have been translated into successful products thanks to what I’ve found at the Ridge.”

Salvia angled a look of smiling pride at Rhus before she continued her swimming.

Rhus frowned. “The crew of the Nemo told me that there haven’t been any discoveries for months,” he said. “Is that true?”

He saw Salvia slow her swimming and gratefully caught up. She turned in the water.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Is it because you’re not willing to swim out beyond the Zaymen Ridge? I mean, it’s the only formation you’ve mentioned since we met up this morning.”

He had annoyed her. He could tell by the set expression on her face and the way her skin pulsed red and orange…and there was also a kind of irritating tug at his brain, as if something was trying to hit him in the skull with a pair of very small fists. A part of Rhus wanted to pull the words back into his mouth, but he was curious about the conversations he’d engaged in during his time on the Nemo and whether what he’d been told was the truth.

“And what do you know about how far I’ve explored?” she asked him. Her tone was belligerent.

There had been…things they’d said about Salvia on the ship. Things Captain Haber had specifically told him, about how uncooperative and spiteful his new co-worker was. The words ‘blackmail’, ‘coercion’ and ‘bitch’ featured prominently. Rhus thought he was able to figure out what each term meant. He still didn’t know what a ‘bitch’ was, exactly, but it hadn’t sounded complimentary.

“I heard the crew of the Nemo talk,” he faltered. “They mentioned that there was a drop in productivity on Europa.”

The conversations he’d been involved with had centred on how Salvia had stopped working months ago, effectively holding an entire company to ransom. As far as Rhus was concerned—and Captain Haber agreed—he didn’t think it right for one person to affect how hundreds, maybe thousands, did their work. That’s what it had sounded like to him.

Salvia snorted and a stream of tiny bubbles rose to the water’s surface. “A drop in productivity? I bet they mentioned that.”

Now she sounded bitter rather than gloating. How strange.

During his trip from Earth’s moon to Europa, and in light of what he had heard, Rhus’ indignation and righteous anger had grown. Who was this Salvia who demanded unreasonable things from the company she worked for? Yet, he wasn’t feeling indignant now, not with the source of such feelings right in front of him.

“Were they not telling me the truth?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

“Truth is a malleable thing,” Salvia replied in a tone that sounded sarcastic. It made her appear many years older than the age she must be. “It’s like a sheet of thin metal, able to bend this way and that depending on where pressure is applied.”

She turned again and sped off through the water. Rhus hurried to catch up.

The crew of the Nemo had told Rhus he was a being like Salvia, with the same modifications that she had. Rhus wanted to prove he was nothing like the selfish creature Salvia was. He wouldn’t make outrageous demands like she had. He would work hard, not grumble and be rewarded. Captain Haber had already said as much.

“You do right by us, Rhus,” Haber had told him, staring squarely into the tank on the Nemo, “and we’ll do right by you. Understand?”

And Rhus had nodded. Yes, he understood.

It had all been crystal clear on the transport ship. But now he was on Europa itself, the certainty of things was beginning to blur in his mind. He had expected Salvia to be some kind of shrew, yelling at everyone, hitting the side of the hatch and generally acting in an uncontrollable fashion. That had been the tone of what he’d heard. But Salvia didn’t seem to be like that at all. She was much quieter than he had been expecting, embarrassed when she first saw him, patient with his lagging strokes. This didn’t appear to be the kind of behaviour from somebody who supposedly held the fate of an entire company in her hands and didn’t care about it.

Rhus was suddenly filled with shame over his behaviour. He hadn’t prejudged the normals, even when they did curious things in front of him. Salvia had been polite and patient and yet he was thinking the worst of her the minute his body had hit the refreshing waters of Europa. Contrite, he swam strongly until he caught up with her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, when she still hadn’t acknowledged his presence.

She glanced at him then, her expression clearly mirroring her frustration.

Embarrassed, he tried to explain. “It’s just…on the Nemo…they said other things…”

Salvia came to a sudden stop, jack-knifing in the water. Her dark eyes grew wider. “What else did they say?”

No, he hadn’t meant it to come out like that. His hands fluttered in the water, sending little eddies rippling out in all directions.

“What else did they say?” she repeated.

“They said…” He swam a circle, using the water to cool his overheated skin then returning to his original position.

“They said that you were deliberately delaying research on Europa,” he finally told her. “They said…I could be your replacement if I wanted.”

Rhus wasn’t sure why he let that slip out. It was supposed to be a secret, Captain Haber had told him. Something between the two of them, not to be discussed with anyone else. Yet, staring into Salvia’s beautiful eyes, Rhus knew he’d be hard pressed keeping a confidence from her.

Her mouth turned down and she flashed a morbid green. “M-my replacement?”

She sounded so unsure, so vulnerable, that he crossed the distance between them with one flick of his feet and took her into his arms.

* * * *

Suddenly, Salvia found herself held fast in a strong embrace. Rhus’ body, hot and slick, was hard against hers. The slight swell of her breasts pressed against him and she felt the deep beat of his heart through her skin.

When she had first requested companionship, mutinously refusing to do more work for the company until she had someone to share the emptiness of Europa with, Salvia had really been thinking of another woman. She’d harboured images of holding hands as the two of them skimmed the rocky terrain of their marine world, rocketed past the hot geothermal funnels or stroked leisurely along the sheets of ice that blanketed their world. She hadn’t been expecting to meet someone similar and yet so different. Whenever Rhus’ attention had been directed elsewhere, taking in the flashes of bioluminescence from the other dwellers of their moon, she had sneaked looks at his body. Sometimes he gleamed blue. At other times, ridges of rich purple skittered across his flesh, illuminating every curve and shallow…except for the slit low down on his belly.

That slit remained dark and mysterious. She didn’t have one situated so high on her own torso but lower down and smaller. Rhus’ black crease mesmerised her, hinting at illicit purpose. When she looked at it, she felt a quickening in her own smooth, dusky seam and a slipperiness between her legs, though she didn’t know why. Her groin pulsed as his heat throbbed against her. The beat in her sex grew more demanding and insistent and she caught her breath as she felt something emerge from his slit, bursting through the folds of flesh to smoulder hotly against her. It was hard, long and rounded and Salvia couldn’t resist the urge to rub against it.

Rumbles from deep within Rhus’ chest vibrated against her, exciting her and calling to the animal that seemed to have taken up residence deep inside her abdomen. There was no other description for the wild cravings that overwhelmed Salvia’s sensibilities, drowning them beneath a flood of unremitting want. Apology had turned to lust and Salvia was lost in its heat.

She threw herself back and Rhus was on top of her, their bodies swirling wildly in the water. Cascades of orange, yellow and white lit their writhing forms, clashed against each other, and lit the surrounding darkness.

A part of Salvia regained sense and she scanned the water. The sensitive nerves in her skin picked up a rock formation just behind her. With one hand, she reached out and grabbed at a smooth outcropping just as Rhus penetrated her.

The feeling was a shockwave rippling through Salvia’s body. Someone was inside her, the fruit of his slit burning her. With a shout, Salvia pushed against him. Her arms tensed against the boulders as she and Rhus set up a steady rhythm. With the rockface giving both of them a steady foundation, Salvia was able to wrap her legs around Rhus’ torso. The taste of her wetness rose in eddies from her groin, sweet and musky. She inhaled deeply, letting the aroma waft past the gill structures in her lungs, drinking deeply of her own arousal.

Rhus appeared to grow even hotter, his hands roaming her body like searing plumes of steam. His fingers scraped against her small nipples and shards of pleasure rocketed through her. As he thrust, he lowered his head to her neck. Salvia convulsed as his teeth fastened on the nape of her neck. Shivers of sharp delight overcame her as she felt the points meet her skin, firing the nerves along her delicate flesh.

Then they climaxed, both almost at the same moment, and the water was filled with ripples from their thrashing bodies. Salvia’s rich and intoxicating scent suffused the cool liquid surrounding them. Against her breasts, she felt Rhus’ torso expand as he breathed her in, drinking deeply of her arousal and carnal satisfaction.

They were both silent for long minutes, their chests expanding and contracting as they tried to steady their breathing.

“I…” He paused and swallowed. “I…did I hurt you?”

Hurt her? Well, he did. A bit. Salvia let go of the outcropping and they drifted, turning lazily, through the dark depths of their world.

When Rhus had driven into her, it was like a velvet-covered hammer invading her. She thought she caught the scent of a little blood in the water, but whether that was from his bite, or the onslaught of his delicious member, she wasn’t sure. The flesh on the inside of her thighs was feeling almost as tender as her pummelled sex but, strangely enough, she wanted to do that erotic dance over and over again. In fact, she could feel the pull of it in her sex, her groin like an independent person demanding, once more, the hard presence of Rhus.

Of course she had known about sex. It had been part of her education during her training at the station, but she didn’t imagine that it would feel so…wonderful. Did Dr Faisbain know about this? And, if so, why hadn’t she said anything about something so pleasurable and habit-forming?

“Salvia?” Rhus shook her shoulder gently. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she answered softly, burying her head against his shoulder. He was so warm and solid. And just like her.

She sighed. “You didn’t hurt me at all.”

* * * *

The next month passed in an orgy of exploration and sex that made Salvia smile with anticipation the moment she woke up each morning. Living under a thin crust of ice, there was no ‘night’ or ‘day’ as normals knew it, but there was a predictable tidal system that Salvia used to govern her schedule. Rhus hadn’t got the hang of it yet, much like her during her first two months on Europa, and he was often slumbering peacefully when she woke.

During those times, she would gently bob and watch him sleep. Dr Faisbain told her that her vision had been augmented and what normals considered pitch black would be only a light grey to her, still full of illumination for her to see by. Salvia hadn’t thought much of it until Rhus came along. Now, while still in their ‘home’ cave, she could appreciate the smooth planes of his body and his handsome features. At times when he was obviously dreaming, she would watch in delight as his skin shimmered through a rainbow of colours. But her gaze was always drawn to that sexy secret slit of his, a slight bulge hinting at what lay beneath. She had taken to waking him up by rousing a member of his anatomy first, running her tongue along that dark seam and coaxing out his smooth cock with long slow licks. The minute her mouth touched his most sensitive flesh, he would jerk awake. Sometimes that would start a wild chase through the ridges and stems of fairy-feathers that sprung up like wispy forests near the geothermal vents. At other times, they would stay in their cave, succumbing to the need for warmth and closeness. In all circumstances, it ended with sex.

Sex! Toe-curling, reality-spinning, reason-abandoning sex. It had become a drug to Salvia, an exercise, a pleasure, an activity she couldn’t get enough of. It was enough for Rhus to merely graze a finger along her ankle while they were swimming or tap her dorsal fin with one toe to get her attention. The moment she felt his touch, a point of masculine heat on her bare lithe body, the animal arose in her, demanding satiation.

She would have been embarrassed by the strength of her ardour…except Rhus was the same. In one month, they had already developed a system of non-verbal shorthand. Like her, he was getting adept at consciously directing his skin to project his thoughts, not just his emotions. There were times when he’d flash white with sexual promise then disappear into one of the deep ridges, daring her to come after him and claim his cock for herself. For her part, during times when she felt one part of her body deserved extra special attention, she would make that limb, and that limb only, glow white. With a wide grin, Rhus would begin by pleasuring that part of her body, licking between her webbed toes or rubbing himself against the smooth arch of her fin, deliberately teasing her with movements she couldn’t see until she could taste her own arousal in the water.

Life, it seemed, was perfect.

Until Rhus got the signal.

Chapter Four

“Ouch!”

Rhus spun nervously in the water, his skin radiating contrasting shades of green and red. Salvia turned at his exclamation and headed in his direction. They had been examining a new vent that, Salvia told him, had appeared only a handful of months earlier. She was taking note of how an ecosystem developed around the recently emergent plume of hot water—what species developed first and what followed. Rhus found the work only somewhat interesting. His idea of exploration wasn’t tracking species of small animals but swimming free through all the oceans of Europa. The rich veins of colour running through the rocks and ranges of the moon fascinated him and he wanted to see if it was same everywhere or if certain minerals were concentrated in particular regions.

He was examining a glossy vein of blue, tinted with black and silver, when a sharp pain hit him in his right arm. Alarmed, he turned around but saw nothing. No other marine creature had bitten him and it wasn’t Salvia playing a trick on him. For one thing, she wouldn’t hurt him like that. For another, she had been concentrating on something else.

“What is it?” she asked, slowing to a stop beside him.

Her beautiful face was marred by a frown and he restrained the urge to pull her close and kiss her.

“There’s…” He rubbed his upper arm and felt embarrassed. “I thought I felt something, like someone hit me with a sharp stone.”

“That must be the signal,” she told him.

He still felt confused. “The signal?”

“It’s when the station wants to see us.” The frown returned to her face. “Funny, I didn’t feel it. Are you sure you got it?”

He twisted his arm so he could get a better look at the skin. It was smooth and unmarked, except for the tinges of yellow and pink now staining it. Blushing even deeper, he looked away. “I don’t know. It felt like a short, sharp pain. Maybe I was imagining things.”

Salvia shook her head. “No, that sounds like a signal. Maybe it’s time for your check-up? I had a whole series of them when I first started swimming the oceans.”

Nobody on the station had mentioned it before they released him, but Rhus nodded. What Salvia said made sense. Besides, she was looking unsure and he didn’t want to deepen her obvious worry.

“That’s probably it. Um—” He paused. “What should I do?”

Salvia laughed and did a quick twirl in front of him. “You go see what they want, of course! I still have some work to do here but tell Dr Faisbain that I’ve found a new vent.” She wiggled the small silver recorder she was holding in her hand. “And tell her I’m taking note of all the new developments just like she taught me. I’m taking samples too.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

They kissed, mouths and torsos meeting in a flash of heat. It was torture to pull away but Rhus forced himself to. He didn’t want another sharp reminder from the station.

He promised Salvia he’d be as quick as he could and shot off towards the station.

His strength and endurance had improved in the past month. Although Salvia could still beat him in a marathon, he was the faster sprinter and his lack of breathing capacity wasn’t a problem anymore. He had been given ample rations when released but Salvia had taught him to store them and rely instead on the abundant life in the ocean. He knew from his briefings aboard the Nemo that the normals had been surprised by the amount, and diversity, of creatures living on Europa. When they had created Salvia, the company had been expecting to exploit the mineral wealth of the moon but the reality was more wondrous. And more complex.

Rhus had been told that every university and government body on Earth now wanted to claim Salvia’s time so they could direct some of the exploration, classification and cataloguing of life on Europa. He had also been told how all that attention had gone to Salvia’s head, making her neglect her work in favour of fame on Earth.

Like everything else he’d been told, it had made sense on the Nemo but Rhus wasn’t sure he now believed it. For a start, Salvia never mentioned anyone contacting her or speaking with her except for Dr Faisbain. And she seemed focused and happy with her work. He had tried several times to get her to talk about what life was like for her before his arrival, but she remained coy and elusive about that. There was clearly something that had happened that embarrassed her. While she was able to hide her emotions well, her feet were a dead giveaway and they’d blush while the rest of her body radiated a calm blue.

Rhus wasn’t sure what secrets Salvia held, but he was determined to pry the information out of her when he returned from his trip to the station. After all, hadn’t he proved to her how much she meant to him? And he believed he meant something to her too.

The distance receded and that funny little ticklish sensation in his head went away too. Rhus took that strange feeling as evidence of his feeling for Salvia. Through it, he was able to gauge her mood with unerring precision, no matter that she was trying to hide it. As he stroked back to the base sector, that link got weaker and weaker and he felt as if something was slowly being withdrawn from his life. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

Rhus sidled up to the station a day later. It was glaring in its brilliance, with light pouring out of every transparent window and port hole. Rhus lowered his inner eyelid as he swam closer, wondering how the normals could see anything clearly with so much light around. It was blinding.

Dr Faisbain was waiting for him at Hatch Number Two. She smiled at him but it looked tight and flashed on and off like one of the proto-squids from the deep ocean levels.

“Rhus, how are you?” she asked.

“Very well, thank you, Dr Faisbain.” The crew of the Nemo had been very conscientious in teaching him proper manners. “Is it time for my check-up?”

“Well, we could do one since you’re here but…we wanted to see you for another reason.”

“Oh.”

Rhus hadn’t realised how well Salvia’s lessons had paid off until he was able to project a serene blue while alarms went off in his head. There was something not quite right about the doctor’s voice but Rhus couldn’t tell whether it was her choice of words, the tone of her voice or the fixed look in her eyes. A tremor of fear crept up his spine and he shivered slightly, making the tip of his fin quiver.

“If you’d like to swim up into the hatch, we’ll secure you and take you to where we want to…talk.”

Something was definitely wrong. Every nerve in his body snapped to attention and a part of him yelled at him to swim away as fast as he could. In fact, he was poised to do exactly that when his curiosity overcame his fear.

Even if he did manage to escape, the normals could still hunt him down, either through the small automated drones the station had or the larger normal-piloted submersibles. Salvia told him how the drones had originally been used to track her expeditions all over that region of the moon. They could do the same to him. And, while they had to use bubble-shaped craft with tanks and robot arms to traverse the oceans and carry out more complicated tasks, such technology was also more than capable of following him. And then there was that pain in his arm. Rhus hadn’t liked it the first time he felt it and he was sure he wouldn’t like it any other time either.

He could gain a brief respite from running away but the mature choice was to see what Dr Faisbain had to say. Rhus was painfully aware of how ignorant he was of much information to do with the company. With Europa.

With Salvia.

If there was one thing he needed, it was knowledge.

Nodding happily, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, he swam up into the hatch and the waiting tube full of water.

* * * *

“Captain Haber!”

Rhus had been moved to the main observation tank in the station. This was where he had initially been placed when transferred from the Nemo. Until he’d been let loose in Europa’s waters, he had thought it a cosy space. Now, all he could do was take steady breaths and try not to imagine the transparent walls closing in on him.

He stared as the Nemo’s captain walked into the room.

“You seem surprised to see me, Rhus.” Haber’s voice was light and friendly.

Rhus blinked both sets of eyelids. “I’m sorry, Captain. It’s just, er, Salvia told me that shuttle captains don’t usually stay on the station for very long.”

Haber reached for one of a line of chairs arranged along the back wall, dragging it forward as he spoke.

“Salvia appears to know a lot of things, doesn’t she?”

Four metres from the tank, Haber arranged the chair so it faced forward and sat down. Rhus felt like a specimen in a very small menagerie.

“The problem is,” Haber continued, “she’s wrong more often than she’s right.”

Rhus didn’t know what to say to that so he remained silent.

“You’ve been on Europa for a little over a month, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think of it?”

Rhus didn’t have to feign an emotion. His skin surged a vivid blue and orange.

“It’s wonderful,” he said. “It’s like a paradise for me.”

“And Salvia?”

Rhus was about to speak of Salvia in the same tones until it struck him that Haber didn’t like Rhus’ companion. Maybe he could do what Salvia had excelled at doing—keep part of himself a secret while he figured out what the normals wanted to talk about. Although he was new to such a game, Rhus decided to play along as best he could.

“She’s…okay.”

Even through the water, Rhus saw Haber’s gaze sharpen.

“You don’t get along?”

Rhus flicked a foot and it propelled him closer to the top of the tank.

“It’s… I hate to say anything about Salvia when she’s around,” he said, shooting Haber a sideways look, “but she’s…impatient. Not very forgiving. When I first entered Europa, I wasn’t such a strong swimmer. She never waited for me.”

Lies, all lies. Rhus was ashamed of the words that tumbled out of his mouth but he had the feeling Captain Haber was leading to something important. Rhus wanted to know what that was.

“That’s unfortunate, Rhus.” Haber tried to pin a sympathetic look on his face but it didn’t fully mask his satisfaction. “I’m very disappointed to hear you’re not getting on well with Salvia. Yet, on our scans, both of you are seen to be very close together almost all of the time.”

Rhus shot to the large front pane of the tank, spreading his webbed fingers along the cold glass as he looked at Haber. He didn’t have to feign the hint of green-hued desperation that lit his skin.

“You don’t understand. She withholds information if I don’t cooperate. If I’m not there when she calls me, or if I don’t do what she tells me to, she leaves me out of things. She doesn’t warn me if a cave is dangerous or if a vent is about to erupt.”

Rhus fervently hoped that what he was doing was the right thing. How could he even begin to repair Salvia’s reputation if he was mistaken and Haber was only after a candid assessment of how well they worked together?

No, he couldn’t be wrong. Haber did hate Salvia. He was clear about that on the Nemo and it was even clearer now, etched deeply on the captain’s face.

“In that case,” Haber said slowly, “I think we can come to an arrangement.”

“Arrangement?”

“The company has been unhappy with Salvia’s performance for a while now. And her attempt to hold us to ransom—pending your arrival, Rhus—has displeased top management.” Haber licked his lips. “We’ve come up with an alternate strategy.”

This was it. The moment of truth. Rhus cocked his head to the side, pinning an interested expression on his face. And waited.

“We’re ready to manufacture another person like you.”

“Like me?”

“A female. You just say the word and we’ll start creating her.”

“To what end?”

Haber slapped his knee with the flat of his hand. “Dammit, Rhus, didn’t you just say you didn’t like Salvia?” His voice was getting higher now, starting to move into a range that Rhus found comfortable to listen to, although he knew the normals did not consider it that way.

Rhus nodded.

“Well, I’m offering you a way out. For both of us.”

Something clicked in Rhus’ brain. “You’re not just a ship’s captain, are you?”

“It’s a win-win situation, Rhus,” Haber insisted, ignoring the question. “You get yourself a new girlfriend and we start to see more black ink on the bottom line.”

A shiver trembled along Rhus’ dorsal fin. This was moving too fast. He thought he was being clever but, in reality, he was drowning in Haber’s clipped, flat words.

“Maybe we can talk to Salvia,” he pleaded. He didn’t have to feign the green streaks zapping along his body. “Discuss what you’re unhappy—”

“There’s a time for talk and a time for action. The company, which I represent, has been more than patient with Salvia but we’re a business, not a fucking charity. I’ve stayed here, seen how this place operates and I’ve made my decision. Are you in?”

The suddenness of the question took Rhus by surprise. The words were flying by him too fast, pounding him with each syllable before he had a chance to think about what was being said.

He had such little interaction with normals, beyond conversations aboard the Nemo. Faisbain and he had only exchanged unimportant pleasantries in between medical questions. Salvia was the only person he knew and fully trusted, but she didn’t talk like Haber or even like the more kindly Faisbain. Was he understanding what Haber was saying? Or had he just made a huge mistake?

“Rhus? Do you want a new girlfriend or don’t you? We could craft her to your specifications, splice in some mood-enhancers so she becomes more compliant when you’re around. We could make you king of Europa if that’s what you’d—”

“Yes!”

Rhus interrupted Haber’s words because he didn’t want to hear any more. He just wanted a stop to everything so he could return to the cool quiet of the ocean and the heat of Salvia’s arms.

“Yes,” he repeated, more softly.

Rhus didn’t want to be in the tiny tank being stared at by a normal as if he was barely above the level of a trained animal. He should have been proud that he’d discovered Haber’s plan. Instead, amidst the clear water that surrounded him, he felt small and dirty.

We’ll run away.

The thought formed in his mind, full of excitement and hope.

He’d leave the station as quickly as he could, find Salvia and they would swim as far away as they could. To the other side of Europa, if necessary. After all, it was all their domain. Every square centimetre of rock was covered in water beneath a thin, icy crust. The normals needed special equipment to travel in such an environment. He and Salvia didn’t.

“I’ll go,” Rhus said in the ensuing silence. “I’ll tell Salvia that there’s an emergency here at the station and I’ll bring her here.”

Maybe Rhus betrayed himself, flashing a prideful violet when he should have been projecting submission. Whatever the reason, Haber stood up, shaking his head.

“No. We’ll do this my way.”

“Your way?” Rhus’ voice faltered.

“I’ll direct the station to get two submersibles ready. After they’ve launched, you can lead us to Salvia. Why wait when we’ve both already agreed on a plan, right?”

Rhus watched helplessly as Haber grinned at him.

Chapter Five

Salvia knew something was wrong. She could feel it deep within herself, like a string in her belly being pulled taut.

“I shouldn’t have let him go by himself,” she told herself. A small animal, striped white and red, shaped a little like a terrestrial crab, hopped off the boulder she was facing and scuttled off along the ocean floor. Salvia followed its zigzag path with a pensive gaze.

“But how could I have known?”

Her sudden tiredness and loss of focus had distracted her and she had let Rhus travel to the station by himself when she should have been following him. Using the network of escape pipes through the station to listen in on what was being said—or done—to him. Being her usual smart self.

“What if they’re hurting him?”

Salvia couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Rhus. They’d only just discovered each other. They were like the Adam and Eve of that old Earth story with a brand new world to explore.

And, what was more, there was news that Salvia had only just come to realise about herself. The reason for her inattention and lack of focus. The reason why she felt so tired all the time.

She was sure she was pregnant.

Dr Faisbain had been the one tasked with her education and that had included biology. It was required as part of her duties, so she’d have an idea of whether the plants and animals she found on Europa would be of interest to the company. And, in learning about biology, Salvia learnt about her own heritage. Of how the company had spent years splicing dolphin and marine animal genes into the DNA structure of a normal, adapting human features so that lungs were now filled with feathery gill structures instead of bubble-like alveoli. Human blood was modified and made more fat-friendly in order to increase its cold tolerance. Bigger and better eyes were created, covered with two sets of eyelids and augmented with photopores. A dorsal fin was added for better stability in the water, webbed fingers and toes were developed, a more streamlined body with tougher, bioluminescent skin was crafted. The list went on and on.

But there were also side-effects that even someone as smart as Faisbain hadn’t figured out in advance. Salvia’s unerring sense of direction and navigation, for one. And secondly, such a finely-tuned sense of her own body that she knew she carried new life inside her.

It was wonderful news but also terrifying at the same time. What skills were required to care for an infant? Was she carrying just one new life? Or more? What would Rhus say when he found out? Would he be happy or resentful of a new responsibility so soon after their lives together had begun?

Salvia knew she would have to tell Dr Faisbain about this new development as soon as possible. But, in the meantime, she had to wait until Rhus returned and her sense of foreboding disappeared. She tried applying herself to her work—there was so much to do—but it didn’t help. She was sure there were many discoveries waiting for her farther out from her present position, but she wanted to remain a close distance to the station. She still didn’t trust all the station staff and, even though she liked Dr Faisbain, the woman was a normal. After the conversation she’d overheard in the pipe system, Salvia was torn between leaving the normals far behind and being near enough to help Rhus should he need it.

Then she thought she heard it.

“Salvia!”

It was Rhus’ voice but it was faint, with no accompanying scent of him on the currents. Salvia spun in the water, looking up towards where the ice crust was located.

“Rhus?”

There was nobody around.

Was she imagining things?

“Salvia!”

Clearer this time but also different. In her head!

Salvia’s hands shot up to her temple. “In my…head?”

There were no other words, just a sense of danger and urgency. Salvia strained her eyes as she scanned the surrounding water. She tried looking out for Rhus, for one of the station’s submersibles, for anything that might explain this strangeness in her head.

“Where?”

Rhus was asking a question this time but the tone was still filled with desperation. For a moment, Salvia’s mind went blank, then she tried to concentrate on an image of where she was.

“Stonehenge Maze.”

Could she even do it, transmit a fuzzy picture of her location to Rhus? She didn’t know. The fingers that were still at her temples pressed deep until she felt she was squeezing her head in a vice.

“Stonehenge Maze.”

She tried to isolate the Maze’s defining characteristics, most notable of which was its series of semi-dormant vents. The funnels formed tall columns of minerals that had grown towards each other so they resembled giant doorways. Around the columns, forests of fairy feathers had sprung up with their long, white, wispy fronds. Using the occasional heat from the vents, they turned it into energy and food for themselves, as well as providing good foraging for several species of Europan animal.

Salvia tried hard to picture the arched chimney structures and swaying copses of stark white plants. She was wondering whether she’d succeeded, and fretfully turning circles in the water, when she saw a glimmer of light in the distance. She could tell in an instant that the illumination was artificial to Europa and so knew it to be a submersible from the station. And was that Rhus swimming beside it?

She was about to stroke out to him when she got one clear mental message.

“Hide!”

She stilled. Did she receive that message correctly? Did it say—

“Hide!”

Heeding the warning and with wide eyes, Salvia dove down into the fairy feathers, shivering.

* * * *

Rhus tried stalling for as long as he could on the way to finding Salvia. He pretended his swimming was weaker than it actually was. He tried to divert the two submersibles through long routes. While both tactics bought him a little bit of time, it wasn’t enough.

As far as he was concerned, the only thing he could do once he found Salvia was to help her escape somehow, then turn and fight. He didn’t know how he was going to do it but he was not going to let his love fall into the hands of these merciless normals.

While being transported from the observation tank back on the station to the ocean, he caught sight of Dr Faisbain and thought he saw an expression of sad resignation on her face. For a moment, hope flared inside him that she might help, but it was quickly dashed when she wordlessly watched the technicians empty him into the tube and keep him there until the two aquatic vehicles were ready.

At least they hadn’t tied him to one of the vessels for the journey but they didn’t need to. With transmitting beacons inserted somewhere in his and Salvia’s bodies, the normals could track both of them with ease. Rhus gritted his sharp teeth and continued to swim.

He knew he was close to Salvia when he smelt the fragrance of her carried on the currents. Psychically, he also knew she was close.

He thought she must have the same feeling about the deep connection they shared, something beyond the physical and rational. And while he would have preferred to test it under more relaxed circumstances, he had no choice. Pushing his senses to the limit, he tried to project a feeling of panic and flight.

“Swim! Hide!”

There was a flicker of movement at the farthest edge of his vision and Rhus knew it was Salvia, diving deep into the concealing fairy feathers of the Stonehenge Maze.

“She’s swum away, Rhus.”

Haber’s voice reverberated through the water from the submersible’s speakers. At the alien sound of his voice, small shoals of glitter-fins split into separate little threads then darted away from the oncoming party of invaders.

“I think I know where she is,” Rhus shouted back. He didn’t really care if the normals understood him or not. “I’ll go find her and bring her to you.”

“Don’t take too long.”

Haber’s words crashed through Rhus’ head as he dove down, not concealing his swimming speed any longer. Hiding in the fairy feathers was a smart idea, especially when their stems reached so high in the water. With their constant movement in the slight currents, a good swimmer could move through the forest without detection. Salvia was a good swimmer. But there was little hope when the normals could track them, regardless of where they hid.

He found Salvia deep within a thicket of stems, hard up against one of the quiet chimney vents. Her expression was calm, but her body segued through muted colours of red, green and yellow, indicating her unease.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “Was that you in my head?”

He swam up to her and kissed her deeply, running his hands down her taut body. He had missed her so much.

“Yes, that was me.”

She pulled back but her eyes were alight with wonder and curiosity. “Rhus! How—”

“There’s no time to explain,” he cut in. “You must have seen the submersibles? They’re from the station. They’re here to take you away.”

“Take me away?”

“The company thinks you’re not co-operative. I’ve been promised a new—” He faltered. “A new girlfriend if I turn you over to them.”

“A new—”

He grabbed her by the arms. “I’m not going to do it, Salvia. I love you. I won’t ever let the normals touch you. But”—he sagged in the water—“I don’t know what to do. They’re waiting for me to return with you and, if I don’t, they’ll come after us.”

After a short silence, he straightened, his voice strengthening. “You must escape. I’ll try to sabotage their vessels somehow, get them to chase me. While they’re after me, you have to swim as fast as you can, to the other side of the moon if necessary. And don’t come back, no matter how much you’re tempted.”

“Rhus, no. I can’t let you do that. You see…”

She paused, obviously struggling with whatever thoughts were occupying her mind.

“I’m pregnant, Rhus,” she finally told him in a quiet voice, her eyes beseeching.

But how? He almost blurted the question out loud until he realised how stupid it was. He and Salvia had been having constant sex for the past month. The fact she was going to have a child was the smallest mystery of all.

“I can’t bring up our child alone,” she continued. “I need you.”

Rhus was overwhelmed with so many emotions that he couldn’t move. Pride and worry for himself and Salvia, frustration and anger at the normals in their air vessels above them.

“I won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me.” Salvia’s voice grew stronger. “We’ll have to think of something else.”

Rhus shook his head just as a loud squawk echoed through the water. He hadn’t heard the sound before, but he knew it was a warning blast from Haber. They’d have the station crew combing the forest for them in a matter of minutes.

“The tracking sensors,” Salvia said. “We’ll have to find them.”

“Aren’t they deep within our arms?”

Rhus had felt the stab of pain in his muscles when he got the command to go back to the station. He had assumed that meant that the transmitter/receiver and the site of the pain were one and the same, but now it was Salvia’s turn to shake her head.

“I asked Dr Faisbain about it once. She didn’t answer me exactly but it was clear that the beacon is in a separate part of our bodies to the pain-generating signal. And it was confirmed when you landed on Europa. The one they gave you on Mars didn’t work. I heard them say so. The only question is, where would they put it?”

“Salvia, even if we could find it, how do we know we could get it out in time?” Rhus spoke quickly, trying to compress his thoughts into a few short bursts of conversation. “It could be buried near our stomach or heart. We could kill ourselves trying to reach it.”

But Rhus could see Salvia wasn’t really listening. Any moment now, the second signal would sound. Haber was not a patient man. Rhus’ heart hammered in his chest.

“Salvia,” he said softly, “you have to go. Now.”

“You were released into the ocean after your check-up,” Salvia mused. “A check-up that was going to include replacement of the beacon.”

Rhus frowned. “How do you know?”

“Because I heard them talking.” She looked up at him. “Did any part of you feel bruised or sore just before you were released?”

How could she think of bruises at a time like this? Rhus twitched as he thought of the seconds of their lives slowly ticking away.

“No,” he told her with irritation. Of course there weren’t any…

“Yes!”

Salvia jerked as she covered the distance towards him. “Yes? Where?”

“My fin. The base of my fin felt a little tender. I remember because it’s one of the few places on my body that I can’t see.”

“Turn around.”

Any time now, Rhus thought to himself as he rotated in the water. Any time now, the white stems around them would part and they’d be trapped in the artificial white light of the two submersibles. And it would be all over. His life. Their lives. His family’s lives.

“Found it!” Salvia’s voice was high with excitement but Rhus also heard the edge of a sob in her words. “Hold on.”

Her warmth moved away then, in a handful of seconds, she was back. He felt a sharp pain in his fin and flinched. The scent of his blood floated in the water and filled his mouth. When he turned, he saw Salvia hold a small silver cylinder in her hand.

“Is that it?”

The source of their misery held in a small metal shell. She nodded.

“Now you do me.”

She gave him a small spear of sharp stone she must have broken off the side of the chimney vent, then pirouetted in the water.

“Try the base of the fin. It looks like part of our markings but doesn’t change colour with our mood.”

Now he knew what to look for, the tracking beacon was easy to find. Yet, Rhus still hesitated. He touched Salvia’s smooth skin with one hand. She was carrying their child and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her. What if he butchered her fin and she bled to death? What if an infection from the water got into her wound and killed her?

“Rhus!”

Her voice brought him back to reality. Clenching his jaw, he dug at her flesh with the stone tip. The water clouded with her blood then cleared to reveal more of the silver device. With a grimace of disgust, Rhus shifted it loose with his thumb and plucked it from Salvia’s flesh.

“We leave them here?” he asked.

She spun around and grinned at him. “Let’s give them a little chase. I say we drop it into the Ivory Chasm.”

The Ivory Chasm was a crack in Europa’s crust and contained more active hot vents than any other part of the explored moon. It also contained some of the deepest water around.

“You’re a wicked woman,” he told her.

The second siren sounded above their heads.

“They’ll send others,” he warned.

Salvia’s eyes blazed. “Then we’ll free them as well. You. Me. And our children. Europa belongs to us.”

With the vessels of Earth after them, Rhus laughed as he and Salvia sped off, their beacons still clutched in their hands.

Haber tried his best but couldn’t catch up with them before they reached the chasm.

About the Author

I am a child of the global South. In the past, I have run my own IT consultancy business, bookshop, gym, swimming pool business and martial arts school.

So far in my life, I have been a corporate trainer, lecturer, satirist, martial arts instructor, project manager, political essayist, small business owner and am now proud to call myself a fiction writer. Although I love romance, I have to admit my first love is science-fiction and the opportunity to combine both genres was irresistible! I do hope you enjoy reading my stories.

Together with my husband, we have lived and worked in Europe, Asia, Australia and North America. We adore our two children and tolerate as necessary evils our two grumpy, fur-shedding cats.

Email: ks@ksaugustin.com

KS loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by KS Augustin

A Pirate’s Passion

Prime Suspect

On Bliss

His Bodyguard: Guarding His Body

Cougars and Cubs: Singapore Sizzle

Star Struck

Buffi BeCraft

Dedication

I was a tomboy/geek/nerd before I knew what any of that meant.

This is for my tomboy/geek/nerd friends and family who helped wear out three sets of Star Trek and Star Wars movies long before we started on the DVD versions. Late night black and white monster flicks (Dad). For actually sitting down with us (Mom) when it wasn’t your thing. For appreciating my eight-foot-long, purple scarf while we stood in line to get Tom Baker’s autograph (Angela). It’s also for the hours my three home-peeps put in patiently explaining video games and animé to me (Jason, John, and my Shae-Shae).

I love all of you guys.

Chapter One

Captain Drew Roberts rummaged through the crate of spare parts, her mood going from sour to downright bitchy. The warm exhaust-heavy air, the norm for any port and a must for a space station, wafted in through the aft engine room doors. Air quality on Celestial VIII was better than most. She hefted the wrench, a nice old-fashioned, earther tool that should get the job done. Switching on the power, Drew hit the start-up sequence from the maintenance panel, listening for the catch and stutter that was keeping her grounded and eating at her profits.

Watching the entwined barrels of the massive engine hum, she held her breath as the hiccup began in the first, sending a shudder through the ship. She hit the kill switch before the jerking stutter pulled the engine from its moorings. Or before anything else made strange noises.

She crouched in front of the first engine barrel and stared into the open panel at the jungle of wiring and computer boards and sensor knobs. “Okay, Mara,” Drew whispered to her dead business partner and mechanic. She’d been speaking Galaxy I Common for so long, she rarely even thought in her own language anymore. “What would you do?” She closed her eyes, hoping to channel just a little bit of her friend’s genius. When nothing occurred immediately, she reached one hand in, hoping for a little luck in the place of her lacking skill. The first hiccup was on this side. Surely, she could see a burned out thingamajig or something. Aha! A blackened knob was tucked up next to the optic wiring going to the next barrel. Drew was pretty sure she’d seen one of those in the crate. “I got you now, you little bastard.” She reached down for the wrench.

“You do not want to use that on a crystal hybrid engine.” The smooth voice jerked Drew around, swinging the huge-ass wrench in front of her as she rolled to the balls of her feet. Quickly, she assessed the intruder—smarter than his pretty looks if he could identify a hybrid engine. Human descent, male, pale skin, medium build, loose travelling clothes. With his colouring, chestnut and gold topknot, tilted eyes and full upper lip, she connected the dots and lowered the wrench a fraction. Long dormant hormones blinked to wakefulness. Yeah, he was hot, but she wasn’t buying anything a trader offered.

“Sorry, I’m not taking on passengers.” She used the end of the wrench to point at the engine. It pained her, but she admitted her failure anyway.  “Engine trouble.” Mara would have had the stupid thing running in seconds. He nodded, approaching carefully, bringing with him the scent of wild primitive forests, a real scent, not a fabricated cologne. “I heard.” Mischief glittered in the shadows of his grey eyes. The tip of one long canine peeked when he smiled. To some that would be a turnoff. Mara always teased Drew about her fascination with dangerous men. In the end, Mara beat her hands down in worst boyfriend material. The moral? Never date cold-blooded men. “Most of the port heard.” He pointed at the open panel. “May I?”

“You’ve got the look, kith-ra, just not the attitude.” Those grey eyes lost some of the polite genteelness she hadn’t noticed until it was gone. She almost felt bad about her rudeness before remembering who was responsible for the turn her life had taken.

Still, his manner reminded her very much of the one and only time she’d seen the legendary warriors. Sleek, efficient fighters defending the evacuation of their people with the ferocity of leopards when pirates invaded the Silas Two station. That glimpse she’d got had stuck with her all these years. The pirates had been clumsy thugs. A bunch of clumsy thugs that had won the station by sheer numbers, but Drew watched the kith-ra battle from her ship’s security surveillance. The pirates didn’t have a chance. Kith-ra danced and wove in perfect choreography, keeping the path clear for the last of their clan to board their ship.

“Kith-dana,” he corrected the inflection hard on the last two syllables.  “I am no warrior.”

“Ashwin!” The bellow from the doors had Drew bringing up her wrench again. Once again, human and male, this man was lethally muscled. Darker streaks of chestnut twined in his hair. Neither was unusual for this part of the universe. Drew had seen different species of humans with every hair and eye colour imaginable, fantastic only to her because it was a naturally occurring phenomenon. Feathered aviary people and draconi were less common.

And again, that troubling flash of libido reared up, reminding Drew of her neglected sex life. He glided in, taking in her first visitor without any kind of warmth in his lighter grey eyes. Her personal danger sensor went wild, reminding her of that first glimpse she’d had of his kind. Her second thought was of the promise to love and cherish that Mara’s hot and dangerous boyfriend had given before he killed her.

Without thinking, she stepped past her visitor, putting herself between them. Kith-ra. Drew had no tolerance for bullies. She let out a breath, preparing to defend her ship and her impromptu guest. The steely gaze flicked over her, assessing her, her coveralls, and her weapon, then fixed on the kith-dana. “Ashwin, there is no time for sightseeing.”

Ashwin touched a hand on her shoulder, giving her another sexy whiff of man and forest. She wasn’t much reassured by his fanged smile, however it had been intended. Kith-ra had a badass rep for a reason. He walked around her, pushing the wrench down, that damn confident smile actually working on the scary newcomer. “This is Kormec. He means no harm to you.” he told her, then to the warrior, “I found our pilot.”

Kormec looked her over again making Drew’s hands clench on her wrench. Her black hole of a week finally exploded. Her best friend was dead. Her livelihood was threatened. And the port authority was adding another one hundred credits to her bill every day the Pandora stayed docked. So far, she could pay, but it was eating a hole in her savings. She pointed her weapon at him. “Time to leave, big guy.” Her eyes never left Kormec’s hands, long-fingered lethal weapons that hovered around the knives on the wide leather belt holding his tunic closed. Perversely, she wondered what other talents those fingers had. “Look, Ash. It’s nice to meet you, but I can’t possibly be your pilot. Engine trouble, remember? So, you and Korm here should probably find a ship actually taking on passengers.”

Kormec’s lip twitched. “The woman does not want us here.” The cat-eyed bastard actually smirked at her! “We must leave now.”

Ashwin shook his head. “She is our pilot.” Kormec’s eyes turned harder as he closed the distance between them. The less bulky man held his ground, his lowered eyes indicative of how much self-control it took not to back down. “She is the one. This is the ship we must leave on.”

“Guys, look. I can’t be your pilot.” They ignored her. Face to face, both men were striking. One more dominant than the other, yet neither subservient, but the effect was sexy as hell. Drew set the wrench down and wiped her hand on the grimy coveralls, deliberately enunciating each word. “The ship is bro-ken. Not working.”

Kormec reached out, grasping Ash’s forearm. His voice lowered. “Even if this woman was the one, she does not want us here. There is word that the Starpath is docking in an hour. We have to go.”

“The Starpath is a merchant trade vessel.” She should know—Captain Larissa managed to sweep up a nice sodium chloride deal out from under her a couple of months ago. She eyed her ‘guests’ a little harder, finally dredging up the little known fact that the Starpath was part of one of the nomadic kith clan. “Nightsky.” She snapped her fingers in triumph, grinning in the little thrill of discovery that tingled through her. “You guys are part of clan Nightsky.”

The revelation pulled Kormec from his little battle of the wills. The hard planes of his smooth cheeks worked. “We are leaving now.” His final decree. He gave a small bow and turned, Ash behind him as he started down the ramp. Both men looked just as yummy from the back, Korm all solid muscle and Ash athletic grace. One foot on the ramp, the warrior stopped, holding his arm out. Ash froze, backing up instantly. His hair whipped over one shoulder as he did a quick scan of the engine hold.

“Another exit.” The grey shadows in his eyes were hunted. Looking around him and Korm, Drew could see another pair of kith coming down the dock towards her slip. Korm’s tense posture, the hand on his knife hilt. Drew closed her eyes against the mental vision of those kith-ra protecting their own from the pirates. “Please…” Ashwin breathed.

“This way.” Hoping she wasn’t getting herself killed, because she knew she’d just stepped in a big pile of trouble. “Korm.” She hissed at the warrior, relieved when he finally turned. On the dock, the two still hadn’t seen them. Drew pressed her hand to the ID plate, waving them both inside. The door slid shut¸ cutting off whatever the big man had been about to say. Drew turned, taking in a steadying breath and picked up her wrench.

“Hallo, the ship,” called yet another visitor. Drew crossed to the ramp, wrench on her shoulder. Her eyebrow rose at the luxurious silk tunic and multiple braids woven into the kith-ra’s bland brown hair. He was pretty and polite, she’d give him that, but ho-hum compared to Ashwin’s understated elegance and Kormec’s in-your-face power.

“Hallo, the dock.” Drew leaned against her ship, big-ass wrench on her shoulder, slipping it off when he started up the ramp. “Sorry, no passengers.” His companion stopped at the foot of the ramp, just as pretty as him. Their fancy tunics and boots did nothing to rev her engine. Fancy man walked up the ramp, pulling a holo-card from his pocket. On the surface, the likeness of Ash and Korm shimmered—dressed to kill in silk and hair ornaments…everything was high-class perfect. The weight of the wrench slapped solidly into her opposite hand. Drew shifted to block her engine bay door. “No passengers,” she repeated.

“These two have been seen on this dock.” His snotty demeanour really pissed Drew off. “There is a reward for information.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get off my ship.”

The kith-ra’s tilted eyes narrowed to slanted slits of murky green. “Have you seen them?”

“Suure… Come on back. I’m hiding them out so that I can have my wild wicked way with them later.” She snorted, pointing the wrench at his pretty embroidered sash. Oh, please, God, do not let this asshole try to get past. He would crumble her like a cracker. But not after she whacked him a couple of times with her wrench. “Now, get the fuck off my ship before I call port authority and file a harassment complaint.”

He stared at her, his equally visually boring buddy behind him ready to back him up. Drew met him stare for stare, her heart pounding. “Lanard-ra. The woman is not worth the trouble. Kormec-ra would not take up with skid like that.” Skid, meaning the slur for a small independent trader. The deal with sticking –ra for a title at the end of their names emphasised just how different the kith were from independent Earth. Hell, last time she checked, her small Texas town still had a population of less than thirty thousand. Drew kept herself from taking out her frustration by swinging the wrench back and forth at her side. Finally, Lanard-ra turned around and walked back down the slip. Bland vanilla in looks—yes, danger-wise, those guys were a triple-decker yes, probably with a good dose of mean sprinkles on top. But Mr Kormec-ra had all that vanilla beat by a long shot.

Drew watched them go. She stepped back into the engine room and pressed her hand to the plate to shut the door. Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. God, for a moment there she thought he was going to come through. She stared at the opposite door. In that moment it slid open and she stared at Korm. So, his people thought a hard working woman like her was beneath a high-born guy like him and Ash?

Drew could almost hear Mara’s voice. What the fuck had she got herself into now?

Chapter Two

Kormec steadied himself against the emotions fighting for dominance inside him. First, his concern, no—his fear for Ashwin’s fate should Captain Larissa capture them, second, his aggravation at Ashwin’s insistence on finding ‘The One’. As if this grime covered skid who barely reached his shoulder could protect them better than he, a trained warrior, could. Third, damn the fates—he did not have a third.

He scowled at the small grimy woman as Ash slipped around him. His bond-partner’s excitement was a live thing humming in Kormec’s mind. Her cropped black hair was wild and smudges stained her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She looked more child than woman, a tiny child who weighed next to nothing. This was a stupid, stupid plan. “We will leave you to your business,” he told her.

Ash stopped, every well-bred line of his body appeared relaxed. Aggravation was his main emotion. He purposely ignored Kormec. “We can leave in twenty minutes,” he told the ragamuffin posing as a trader captain.

Her blue eyes rounded more than they were. Big and round, it was an exotic combination found in a subrace of earthers. He should know—Ashwin had become an expert on Earth and its laws since his ‘vision’.

“Okay.” she referenced the ship’s security system, pulling up information, then looked back at Ashwin. “Twenty should be enough time for your friends to vacate the area. Looks like the Starpath docked early.” She snorted, the derision of those who could not compete with the large trading clans. “The captain can certainly afford the fine.”

“That is acceptable.” Kormec nodded. Mentally, he calculated how much money he had left to buy their way on to one of the yachts further up the dock.

Ash, Kormec frowned harder at the woman as the nickname stuck in his brain. He refused to shorten his bond-partner’s name into something so common. He turned the frown on to the subject of his discontent, imagining dragging Ashwin Kith-dana out of this barely functional ship.

Ashwin rubbed his hands together, taking in the engine, and met his eyes in a challenging gleam. This time he did not back down or give way. “Twenty minutes is perfect. Once I have the engine up and running, the Pandora can leave.”

“I…you.” She looked questioningly at Ash. “You can fix it?”

He nodded, already opening various lockers and equipment boxes, steadily ignoring Kormac’s crossed arms and the disproval that was no doubt as obvious as Ash’s excitement. “Twenty minutes, I promise.”

Her glance switched to Kormec.

“Ashwin is an excellent engineer of anything mechanical.” His pride in Ashwin’s skill had never been in question. Even as a boy, Ashwin had gone is own way, wanted to learn how things worked.

“Oh, so that makes you the bodyguard?” He had no idea how to respond. The kith bond-partner relationship was more than her implication.

“Woman, I am a highly trained warrior, bred to protect my people.” His words brought a red flush to her face. The chopped mop of curly black hair on her was by no means the proper length for a lady of position, but it did lend her a certain gamine look.

One tiny finger pointed in his direction as she stomped towards him. “The name is Drew Richards. Captain Drew Richards of the Pandora.” Her ugly heavy black boots and multi-pocketed one-piece outfit swamped her figure and lent no authority to her position as captain of this dubious vessel. Yet, she had the fire of a masso-dog, small and ferocious. “Highly trained warrior you might be, but you’re hiding out from your people on my ship.” Her blue eyes cut over to Ashwin. Kormec noted a glint of satisfaction in the pure colour. You’ve got your twenty. Use override code eight-three-one to access the ship when you’re finished.” She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then twisted her wrist to aim one index finger at Kormec. “I’m watching you, bodyguard.” With that parting, Drew Richards slapped her hand on the plate and walked through the sliding door.

Ash’s gaze drew his attention. His bond-partner was donning another of the ugly jumpers. “We should go to one of the yachts.”

Shaking his head, Ash picked through an equipment box. “Captain Larissa will be expecting that.” He bent, taking off the cover of the second drum-shaped engine unit. “Besides, Drew Richards is the one. The fates chose perfectly.”  His voice was hollow from inside the unit. “She is beautiful. Brave. Intelligent. My mother will not be able to defeat her.”

“You forget the sodium chloride mine on Salicia.” Korm leaned against a small portion of hull. “And that she is not the type to fall in with your machinations or appreciate them when they come to light.” Captain Larrissa of the Nightsky clan had taught her son the art of political manoeuvring well.

“There is one other thing.” Ash stood, resting one arm on the engine, happier than he’d been in months. Heaven was a mechanical thing for his bond-partner. He smirked, looking from the door and back to Korm, at the aggravation and impatience. “Captain Drew has you so aroused, you cannot think.”

“You misread your own feelings.” Korm glared. He did not feel anything for the woman. Ash laughed. He twirled the tool in his fingers. The knowing look said it all. Ashwin and Kormec knew each other best.

* * * *

Drew could not believe that jerk. She slammed into the cockpit and tossed herself into the chair, already sending out the proper request for takeoff. Even if she hated his attitude, she admitted Korm was one sexy snob. He made her want to beat the shit out of him with her wrench, then turn around and beg him to fuck her. And Ash, she wanted to strip the clothes from him and lick every bit that was exposed. Didn’t she hear somewhere that kith partners did everything together? The thought was enough to make her brain overload. Her pussy shivered at the idea. Two men and enough skin between them to fuck and be fucked. She pressed her palm to her eye. Was she sick, or what?

Kormec didn’t even like her. She didn’t like him, but here she was wondering what it would take to break that control of his, to feel Korm try to dominate her. ‘Cause, yeah, that man would dominate any sexcapade. Pandora, you are cleared for takeoff. Drew started out of her daydream. She glanced at the clock. Was the twenty minutes up already?

Behind her, she heard the whoosh of the door. All her sensors showed the Pandora was locked up tight. “Sit and buckle up,” she ordered, privately thrilled when Korm did just that. A minor miracle to be sure. She almost hesitated, then ran the ignition sequence and felt the hum of the ship coming alive. No hiccups or choking marred the perfection of the vibration in her bones. “We’re out of here.”

The days of manually guiding a vessel were mostly gone and Drew leant back as the ship’s nav computer and the port computer worked together to guide the ship out. For her passengers, she adjusted the opacity of the crystal-view, allowing the full effect as they passed the small sturdy cargo ships like the Pandora, the expensive yachts, and finally the massive beauty of the Starpath. The cruise-ship was designed for both extensive travel and to hold an entire city of people. A small city, but several thousand people at the very least. And Captain Larissa was their queen.

Drew looked up, but did not stop Ash from pressing against the crystal-view. Both awe and sadness were easily readable. Korm, on the other hand, was inscrutable as ever watching the cruise-ship as if it would swoop down on them like a bird of prey. His eyes met hers—whatever shone in the steel colour was lost on her. “She will hunt you down and destroy you if she catches an inkling that you helped us.”

Checking her heading was automatic. Drew’s lip curled just a bit. “She can try.” The Starpath and Celestial VIII station grew smaller behind her. In front, diamonds scattered across the black velvet of space. The sight quieted the agitation that had been growing inside her each day the Pandora was grounded. Fear that she’d never truly see the night sky again. If she were planet-side she could handle not being surrounded by the stars. Her first memories were of the wide open Texas sky and her dad, spinning ancient tales of the constellations so she could almost believe Atlas held the world on his shoulders.

Drew inhaled the recycled air and stared at the stars. Yeah, that bitch Larissa could try to take her out. She’d paid off Mara’s murderer and stolen the sodium chloride deal, a pittance upside the major trade the Starpath did elsewhere. On the other hand, Drew had the winning gem that would eventually bring that scaly-assed bastard down. Not today, not even a few years from now. But eventually, she’d use the means Mara had left her to take her murderer down. So, yes, without any details, she was happy enough to ferry the men to the next stop if it meant being a thorn in Larrissa’s thieving backside.

* * * *

Morning was always how Drew thought of her wake cycle, no matter how long she strayed from Earth. Station bound, she’d missed this, relaxing in front of the opaque section of crystal-view in the rec room, sipping Djorlan tea before getting ready to face the day. The blend, an interesting mix of Earth tea and a similar Djor leaf, was stronger than coffee and a lot smoother. She silently rose her cup in a toast of the magnificent spread of space to the trader who came up with that particular idea. Savvy and supported by all the caffeine-drinking beings in the civilised cluster of unified planets. Not that Earth recognised the Cluster as the civilised hub of the universe. Drew’s home world had a long history of believing itself the centre, and if no one else believed they were wrong.

She forced herself to relax—don’t think about the passengers—to maintain her morning ritual. Still, she had a hard time focusing on the media-pad for her news. She’d once heard that kith bonded-partners did everything together. Suddenly, she had a hard time sitting still in her comfy dining chair as she contemplated her new obsession—Korm and Ash. If she was lucky, they were still asleep in the one other cabin of the Pandora. Giving them Mara’s old space didn’t bother her as much as the idea of them sleeping, alone in the cabin. She wondered if the two wore anything to bed. They didn’t have any luggage, her imagination whispered.

Drew pressed the heel of her hand against her temple. Great, now the image was seared into her subconscious. Tall and muscular Korm and lean, elegant Ash. Her nipples pebbled against the thin tank, leaving nothing to anyone’s imagination. Her pussy clenched, dampening her sleep shorts in a reminder of how little she wore underneath. The media-pad, with its access to the galaxy-wide net, beckoned her to verify the rumour. Focus. Drew looked down, noticing that her fingers had done the search for her. Her opposite hand brushed against her breast, making her nipple ache with need.

Gah! She needed to get a grip. Her increasingly naughty conscience told her exactly what parts she’d like to grip. No, she’d get another cup of tea, read her news, and prove she didn’t need her brains fucked out.

“I hope you do not mind.” Ash held up the second media-pad, the one that had belonged to Mara. She nearly choked at the all the damp nakedness, covered by a single worn towel. A smooth sculpted chest tapering into an honest-to-God six-pack made her hands clench around her mug. She could almost see the outline of his—well, she wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself. The size of that package should make him pretty proud to be a man. She was proud to be in the same room with that. His voice blinked her from her lust-induced stare. “I found this in the cabin and borrowed it.”

“Use what you need.” She fought against the urge to blurt out that she wanted that towel back. Gesturing with the mug, she said, “There’s tea if you like.”

Ash stopped, his shadowy grey eyes focused on her mug, then shifted a few inches to the side on her peaked nipples. “Yes, I’d like.” An enigmatic tug of his lips revealed the tips of fangs she’d read were mainly used to mark their mated-partners in sex. “Very much.”

“Umm. Help yourself.”

“I will.” The heat in his look made her crotch go from just damp to wet and abso-fucking-desperate to be filled. Gods everywhere smiled on her, giving her the best view of his ass, playing peek-a-boo through the straight drying sheet of hair that hit just below the luscious tight buns. A thought teased at her about that hair, but she pushed it away, preferring to think of how the wet mass would feel.

“The refresher is not working.” Tall, muscled and snobbish ruined her fantasy as soon as he opened his mouth. Korm, wet hair slapping at the top of this shoulders, hefted a handful of clothes. Drew kept the moment in her mind alive as long as possible, taking in both the soiled laundry and the impressive outline of his cock, as she sipped her tea. She raised one eyebrow while dirty, raunchy thoughts played havoc in her mind. “I require the use of the one in the captain’s cabin.” In the end, Korm’s scowl cooled her down.

“The deal was fix the engine and I’ll take you to my next port.” She stalled, leaning back in her chair, taking unnatural pleasure in the way his eyebrows pinched in the middle. “Not for laundry service.” Truthfully, the refresher in her cabin didn’t work either. She smirked, standing. “Besides, as you can see, Korm, I really don’t give a damn about clothes or your lack of luggage.”

“The window of opportunity only allowed for us to take a few important easy-to-carry items. It is not a problem, though. I can fix the refresher.” Ash’s reasonable tone didn’t make a dent in Korm’s attitude or the scowl that he aimed at Ash for the revelation. Drew wanted to grin like the devil, but Ash held out a mug, swapping it for the laundry. His dark grey eyes held secrets and intimacies of the dark. “Both of them.”

“Well, there you go, Korm.” Every time she said the nickname, she swore he cringed. Her grin widened in devilish glee as she headed to the cockpit. “One refresher coming up. Have fun, boys.” The last she tossed over her shoulder with a wave. She swore she could hear the sound of him grinding his teeth.

* * * *

“Attention,” her voice spoke with quiet calm over the ship’s com, “please shut down all auxiliary power and all systems not needed for life-support.” Korm had been born and bred aboard a spaceship. Survival in space depended on listening and obeying the captain. And while the woman grated on his every nerve, he stood, going the opposite direction as Ash left the still unusable refreshers to switch off equipment.

In the back of his mind, he could feel his bond-partner’s hum of desire for the woman. The feeling was irritating, insidiously colouring his own reactions so that he imagined turning her scantily-clad buttocks over his knee when she deliberately baited him. The problem was, he wanted to do more than apply his hand in retribution. He wanted to slide his hand under the hem of her shorts and feel if she was as wet as her turgid nipples hinted. Shaking the thought away, he blamed Ash—Ashwin, and his plan for freedom—for his uncharacteristic feelings. The hush of the ship, the small lights placed by the floor to aid in navigation, contributed to the fantasy of her heart-shaped mouth on his cock. On cue, his member twitched under the towel as he imagined her kneeling between his feet, her mouth put to good use for a change. Those blue eyes, the colour of gems, constantly teased and tormented him. Frowning, he adjusted the towel and went in search of Captain Roberts.

Murmuring voices reached out to him as he reached cockpit. He sat in the empty co-pilot’s chair, noting the sideways glance she gave him.

“Think on my offer.” Ash’s eyes met his though the words were obviously for her.

Drew raised one eyebrow, her harbinger of vitriol to come. “So, aren’t you wondering what we’re whispering about?”

“No.” He looked out of the crystal-view and into the comforting void. “I could not care less.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” There was a controlled edge to her that she lacked before in their earlier battles. The lack of reckless sexual banter made him pay attention at her mocking chuckle. Even in the dim light of the ships control panel, he could tell it wasn’t a happy laugh by the sound of it. “But then, who am I to argue with royalty?”

* * * *

The ship was mostly silent. The men were fairly quiet too with her revelation. Drew stood, holding back the anger that threatened to explode from her. She’d been duped damn good this time.

“We are not royalty.” Ash’s low statement brought the fire she’d banked to the fore.

“Really? I’m sure that’s news to the Djor.” Drew threw her hands into the air.  “Skid captain wanted in connection to Nightsky clan/Djoran Comptess wedding of the season. It was a good article,” she spat. “I’ll give you both that.” She pointed to the black velvet view, then cut her ire back to Korm. “Can you guess why we’ve cut all power, kith-ra? Because the fucking GI Guard is out there hunting the Pandora’s IP signal.” She advanced on him, poking one tiny index finger into the chiselled plane of his chest. “And can you fucking guess who that skid is? Eh, genius?”

“Do not say that.” Why now, of all times, he picked to attempt civility she didn’t know, or care.

Drew slapped at his hands as he grasped her arm. She laughed, furious and refusing to cry. God she was going to lose everything. “Me! I’m the fucking skid they want.” Mara was gone, the one sole possession of her friend’s that mattered would end up in a GI Guard lockup. And would it matter anyway? She’d hang. Literally, because hanging was the most effective means of public execution. Her unfettered hand went to her throat. The other she jerked, unsuccessful in freeing herself from the asshole. “Let me go, Korm. When do you fucking care about a skid?”

“Enough!”  He shook her, not hard, but enough to bump backwards into Ash. “Your language is bad enough, but you will cease this self-derogatory path.” His arms came around her, grasping her upper arms from behind. Every hot inch of him pressed against her back, throwing their foolish game of ‘no one’s going to get dressed until the refreshers were fixed’ into the stupid light of day. His cock moved and swelled against her ass.

He wanted to play nice guy now? Well, fuck that. She slapped at Korm even as he invaded her space, damn him. Her libido and her anger were running on the same temperature, core meltdown. “This is just a fucking game to you guys. Well, it’s my life!”

Ash’s breath felt almost cool against her heated skin. She shivered twice, the second as his hair slid across her shoulder. “Think about my proposition.”

“To hire you?”  Drew shook her head. “You’re fucking Captain Larissa’s son. The Skypath’s heir.”

“Actually, I was hoping you would be the one doing that.” His cock pressed again the seam of her ass. “And this is a different proposition entirely.” Drew swallowed—she was afraid of that. Dangerous men. She should say no. “Say yes,” Ash urged her as she stared into Korm’s steel gaze. She couldn’t fathom what he was even thinking, not with that breath feathering over the back of her skin. She couldn’t help it, the moan escaped as her head fell back to rest on Ash’s chest. “Say yes to us.”

“Why? Korm doesn’t even like me.” The man in question settled a hand on her waist, pulling her towards him. Her flesh met his in a silken slide. His penis pressed against her belly, large and hard, and free of the towel he’d stubbornly worn all day.

“You do not know what I like, woman.” Those steel eyes bored into hers, kith fang flashing as he spoke. Drew’s hand settled on his bare hip, the hot skin searing her palm. “Are you brave enough to find out?”

“Fuck you, Korm.” The words held little heat. All her fire was centring in her core, weeping more as Ash rubbed a fascinating path up and down her ass crack. One hand found her left breast, while the other held her so each hip was grasped by a different man.

“What do you want, Captain Drew Richards?” Ash was the voice of sin, while Korm pulled her thigh up, pressing the thick heavy length of himself against her swollen pussy. She couldn’t think. Not rationally. “Do you want one, or both?” they stilled, simultaneously, pulling a whimper from her at the loss of sensation. “Or neither.  Say no and we’ll let you alone.” Breath whispered along her skin, lips touched, then softly sucked against the side of her neck, but neither responded to her squirm for them to begin again. It was maddening. “Pick, my captain.”

Drew moaned, making a growl of frustration. “You have to say it,” Korm ordered, bringing her eyes open and drawing the fire back to her surface. “Say it, lady.” Her chest heaved in frustration as she rubbed enticingly against his very rigid cock. “Say what you want.”

“Bite me, Kormec.” Drew growled at his laugh.

“Is that what you really want?” The steely eyes mocked her. Bastard. Drew twisted her hand, trying to get free. “I’ll bite you, lady, but it comes with a steep price.”

“Fuck me. Damn you both.” She shoved back, wanting to be free to vent the fury and lust running through her veins. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Fuck. Me,” she spat at him. “Is that clear enough?”

“One or both?” the silken voice with the hands of iron breathed in her ear. Fucking bastard had the gall to suck on it too. Drew shuddered a moan at the pure sensation travelling to her already throbbing core.

“Sadist. Both.” Hot dangerous men surrounded her. She felt like a meteor, burning its way through the atmosphere. Her tank disintegrated in a rip down the front. Her shorts were jerked down, disappearing under her feet and kicked aside before Korm’s large hand covered her pussy. She thought she’d pass out from the pleasure. Then there was Ash rubbing first up her ass, then down against her swollen pubis. She tried to reach for Korm, only to have him trap her hands again in one large grip. Ash pulled her further against his chest, tilting her back. “I want to touch you.”

“Not this time, lady.” Korm’s fingers slid against her slit, burying in the wetness. Back and forth, they achieved a rhythm. Ash riding her ass while Korm’s fingers teased her clit, pinching a mangled scream of pleasure from her. His fingers slid in and out, bringing a ragged sob as she tried to force him deeper. Instead, Ash changed position, bending her over to push inside her body. He hit bottom with a growl. She didn’t know if it was satisfaction or dominance.  Or care. Thrusting again brought a strangled sound from both of them.

“No, damn you.” Ash’s voice roughened as Korm’s fingers slid between her legs, this time finding more than her clit to tease. “I won’t last.”

Korm’s answering chuckle was dark and knowing. “She can take it.”

“Korm…” Drew forgot her intent as Ash’s cock rubbed her depths. “I—I want you in my mouth.”

His growl was punctuated by deft fingers pinching her clit again. His mouth descended, hot and wet on her breast, his canine teeth pressed warningly against her flesh while his tongue swirled against her nipple. Ash, thrust hard against her, the sudden breath of his stiffening body sent Drew spiralling in a shout that mingled with hers. He slumped, sliding out with a shudder that scattered his hair over her body. “I wanted to wait.”

“Too bad.” Korm looked up from her breast. The predatory light in his eyes was all male, a conquering warrior. “Ready, lady?”

Drew sucked in a breath, holding on to Ash’s embrace lest her knees crumble. She hoped he had more stamina than she had or they’d all be on the floor. “I—”

“What do you want?” She’d seen all kinds of emotion in Korm’s eyes, but never the softer glint that she didn’t think he’d admit to. And he’d called her ‘lady’ several times. Not skid, or woman, or even captain. “What do you want?” he repeated the question. Even Ash tensed, waiting for her answer.

“I want you inside me, Kormec.” He freed her hands, allowing her to slide them up the heavily muscled biceps. Catching her breath, Drew didn’t realise until that moment how much larger than her he really was. She licked her lips, tracing a scar on his shoulder. “I want you deep inside me.” He hauled her close, then turned her around unexpectedly, so she now faced Ash with his hooded, satisfied eyes. Kormec’s breath shivered down her back, hot, a different sensation as he pulled her against his loins and paused. “I want you inside me,” she told him again, shuddering with pleasure as he complied. His wider girth stretched a strangled cry from her. He stopped, carefully holding her. “Fuck me, Korm. Then bite me.” She barely had a breath as he surged into motion.

Ash bracketed her face with his hands, fingers sliding through her short curls, and captured her mouth. His tongue plundered past her lips, teeth and fangs nipping at her before settling into a deep thrusting kiss that mimicked Korm’s stokes. Drew had no time to think, no time to breathe, as she was taken. Briefly, she opened her eyes, meeting the diamond studded velvet of space. Her climax rushed over her, consuming her in a fiery glory that only comets understood. She screamed her release into one man’s mouth as the other seized in his consummation, filling her completely. Kormec pounded into her four more times before holding her still. In the aftermath, there were no individuals. Her body was held pinned between them. Hot cum mingled in her body and the damp slickness of a second release against her belly made her smile faintly at the tangle of arms and legs on the floor of her cockpit.

Another shudder racked her at the sensual lick across her lower neck. “You bit me.” Her words held no rancour.

“You told me to,” Kormec mumbled from the sweet arch of her breast where his head rested.

“You did not tell me not to.” Ash licked across her shoulder again, like a sated cat. She had no idea how they’d switched spots again, unless she’d blacked out after coming a second time.

Well, she decided. Either she’d hang or they’d kill her with the sex. The latter didn’t sound like a half bad way to go.

Chapter Three

The mirror in her tiny dim bathing closet didn’t offer much of a view. Drew angled her neck to touch the mark there, expecting it to be sore, and a heck of lot more bruised than it was. The mark was neither, just what you’d expect from an old-fashioned Earth vampire movie. The matching site, high on her breast, was in the same condition, a little sore, but otherwise fine, if highly visible. The precious peroxide didn’t even fizzle at either site.

She desperately wanted to do another search on the media-pad about the meaning of kith sex bites, but by her own decree they were still on blackout until the GI Guard moved on. Drew poked at the breast mark again. Hell, she’d like to know how much risk she had of infection. Kith were human and human bites were rampant with bacteria.

She could ask, but her bravery ran out about the time Korm decided to find clothes to put on. Apparently, having done the deed, he was back to his dour self and wanted as much space as possible. Drew was more than happy to accommodate. He could have as much space as he wanted—an airlock full.

Sighing, Drew’s heart just wasn’t behind the feeling. Everything and nothing had changed. The GI Guard would still arrest and hang her for kidnapping, of that she had no doubt. On a personal level, she’d just managed to fuck not just one guy, but two. Wow, even Mara hadn’t managed to get herself into double trouble. Deciding she’d hidden long enough, Drew exited the bathing closet.

Her cabin was empty. She didn’t know why that surprised her, but it did. Screw this. Pulling one of the last tanks and cargo pants from her locker, she then slipped them on before deciding she needed the extra comfort of boots. Dressed, Drew armed herself with a small stun weapon.

She had work to do.

Neither man showed himself as she marched herself to the cockpit and sat in her seat. The faint scent of sex lingered in the air, taunting her with the mental image of Korm at her breast, pleasuring both her and Ash. The sensory memory sped her heart, tightening her nipples in the constant state of arousal. In her mind, she imagined kneeling and taking a turn at breaking Korm’s self-control while Ash mounted her from behind. Or what if they actually used a bed? Ash sprawled against luxurious fabric while she took him into her mouth and Korm fucked her from behind.

A small beep jerked her from the fantasy. Arousal blasted to full alertness as she recognised the sweep frequency systematically scanning the grid sector. The Pandora was clipping along, whatever tweaks Ash had made to the engines had given the old girl new life. Drew bent to her task, running a low level scan from an unregistered backup IP system. The unit was illegal as hell, dating back to the days when she and Mara were running pharmaceuticals and other aid to the striking crystal mines. There were risks, mechanical and legal, with getting caught with the unregistered units. Time had taken care of the legal issue. As crystal technology had become the stable and secure norm, the last generation hybrids like the Pandora were mistaken for the first fully crystal tech compliant ships. In actuality, the models were grandfathered into the compliance registrars and the governments forgot how easy it was for old mechanical techs to mimic the newer methods of data transfer.

Drew and Mara had considered themselves heroes, slipping in with needed supplies while the government tried to force the miners to new terms and a takeover of their only asset, the crystals that powered interstellar travel. In the last few years, the Pandora had made do with completely traceable yet profitable soybean shipments from the New Denali station to space stations that needed the extra protein their hydroponics couldn’t deliver.

Satisfied, she opened the com. “We are engaging engines. Please remain on minimal power usage.” Drew pulled up her map, quickly scanning it before she entered the coordinates. The destination was different than usual for this time of year, but then her whole itinerary had been crapped up when the ship broke down. She needed a new plan to deal with Ash and Korm and the whole fuck-up her life had become since meeting them. She frowned. No, things had been going badly since before Mara died. She pushed the thought away before it dragged her down.

New plan. Check.

Fortunately—or not, depending how she looked it—her body perked up, humming with awareness before the scent of Djorlan tea and manly forests heralded Ash’s presence. Drew reined in the desire to jump him. Once again, he was damp from the shower, but his rumpled tunic and pants were a testament to the broken refreshers.

He held out the mug like a peace offering. Accepting, Drew sipped, staring into the peaceful black of space while he settled into the co-pilot’s chair. It was almost a repeat of earlier when Ash had come in offering his services as ship’s mechanic for…her eyes drifted over a cluster of stars. They’d never quite finished the conversation before Korm had stormed in.

“What is on Kisk-Q?” Ash leant back from reading the new itinerary. His hair slithered around him and she realised he’d kept the mass loose since they’d come aboard. She supposed he preferred it loose when he was in private. The remembered feel of that mane on her was enough to make her palms itch to touch. With Korm the feeling was different and Drew didn’t know what to make of her fascination with a man who, though they’d had hot sex, didn’t want to be around her.

Drew set the tea down. “Kisk-Q is the business side of the crystal mines. It’s safe enough now. The embargo has been over for almost eight years. It’s not even a colony anymore—it’s a real city with all the amenities.” Hypersensitive to his every movement, she cursed her already aching breasts and the marks that seemed to generate an illicit reminder all their own. Damn, she would have to either wash some of her stash of dirty clothes by hand or buy a cargo hold of new underwear, and soon. A bra was definitely on the list if she didn’t want to walk around with knobby knockers the entire time they were on board.

She cleared her throat. “It’s close. Two days. The Pandora should be able to refuel and restock before going on to the next destination.”

“And where is that?” Ash peered at the itinerary again, but he wouldn’t see where they were headed, because she hadn’t put it in. “Where are we headed to next?”

Jumping up, Drew couldn’t meet his gaze. “You know, I just realised that I need to organise the supply hold before we get there.” The damn man moved faster than should be normal.  He didn’t crowd her, but managed to insinuate himself between her and the door. One finger touched her cheek, sliding down to the mark, which seemed to flare to life. It wasn’t fair! Why did Prince Kith-Charming stay so suave when she was a puddle of goo in his presence? Drew held her breath to keep from gasping.

His almost charcoal eyes held her into place while that one finger traced the mark he’d made. The fine workmanship of a heavy man’s bracelet she hadn’t seen before caught her attention for a moment before she felt the pull of his gaze. His studied gaze took in more than her eyes as he seemed to memorise every feature before meeting her eyes again. The elegant, long fingers that weren’t tracing fire on her neck and shoulder held her fixed, barely touching her waist. Drew held perfectly still, fighting the urge to throw herself on him. Damn, but the man changed the rules again and bent his head, barely brushing his lips across hers. “I dreamed of you.” She almost missed his compliment before he bent again, pressing his lips against hers more firmly. Drew’s resistance disappeared and she wound her arms around his neck, fingers thrusting into the silken fall of hair. The kiss ended with Ash wrapping both arms around her waist, lifting her up to bury his head against her neck.

“Ash.”

“Shhh.” He breathed against her skin. The touch of his hands made her skin sensitive to the slightest movement. His bracelet brought a shiver to her skin as it brushed her. The sensation was dizzying. “I dreamed, thinking everything would fall into place by itself. But, nothing has gone as expected. You are not anything like what I thought.”

The words hit her like cold water. “Well, that’s one way to put it.” Drew shook her head. She needed to get some space. Dreams—God, now she’d heard everything. “I need to…” She needed a cold shower. She didn’t want to argue or talk. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Drew.” One last touch sent goosebumps down her arm. She had some kind of problem, but paused anyway, not looking back. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s all right.” The words were automatic. Looking up at the stained tiles of the ceiling, Drew inhaled a steadying breath. She just needed some perspective. “It’s okay,” she repeated, escaping before he touched her again.

Kisk-Q. She’d get plenty of perspective there. She just had to last for two days.

* * * *

The door slid shut behind her as Drew made her escape. Damn, but Ash was driving her insane. Everywhere she turned, he was there. Fixing things. The man never slept!

Reasonable, sexy, and wondering how to fix his little slip-up. Right now, he was doing his damndest to fix her clothes’ refresher. She rubbed her hands across her face. At least she knew where she stood with Korm. The man had managed to disappear in a class-two trading shuttle. The phrase ‘cramped quarters’ was not even in the same ballpark as class two.

Stomping into the rec room, Drew wanted to scream at the expanse of bare muscled back flexing in front of her. His chestnut brown and gold streaked hair was tied back. Her eyes followed the path of Korm’s spine to the twisting artwork of a tattoo about the size of her palm. No way was she going to be able to slip around him to hide in the cockpit. As if that was an adequate hideout any longer. The whole space reminded her of the feel of being sandwiched between them.

It wasn’t fair! Her inner slut panted. Korm was definitely in the zone, going through a series of movements that reminded her of Earth karate. The multi-hilted sai-like weapons whipped in and around him with the skill of a master. Diligently trained muscles gleamed with a coating of sweat. Drew swallowed, her eyes following the bunch of a perfectly shaped ass, flexing with the intricate footwork. He turned and their eyes met. Raw sexual tension built in her womb, spreading warmth downward through her core, drawing her breasts into twin aching vacuums wanting to be touched.

Following a rivulet of sweat down his temple, Drew wanted to trace the path with her tongue, licking down the perfect slabs of pectorals and the etched line between, over sculpted abs and… Her breath nearly stopped as his cock twitched in the loose travelling pants. Her eyes jerked up, meeting pure male amusement in his. Korm held out one of the weapons. “Kith-waerspic.” His gravelled voice held a touch of breathlessness, she dared hope wasn’t from exercise. “The discipline is ancient.”

“Does everything begin with kith?”  She couldn’t help it. The words just sort of fell out of her mouth, sarcasm her defence from Korm’s blatant sexuality. She waited for the explosion, biting her tongue.

Korm held one out, flipping it over so it pointed hilt-first at her. Absently, she noted he now wore an identical bracelet to Ash before focusing on the moment. “I never thought of it before.” He gestured with the weapon, until Drew palmed the hilt, her fingers sliding over the smooth metal slowly. His eyes dilated as her fingers wrapped around it. “Perhaps it is our way of defining our species from the rest of the GI Common.”

“It’s smooth.” Drew lifted the weapon, amazed at the perfect balance. “Not damp at all.” A six-way cross guard ending in sharp points protected and held an edge of danger. The sharp spike was as long as her forearm. Barely remembered lessons from her teenage years tempted her to close her eyes as she dredged up the kata. She’d made it as far as black belt, and had won a few tournaments, but lack of practice for anything but the most basic self-defence, made her more than realistic about her ability to use the form to fight. She held out her other hand for the other blade, asking, “May I?” surprised when he complied so easily.

Eyes half closed, Drew stumbled through the basics. A second round was smoother, but the sharpened hilt guards gave her fits. In a moment, Korm towered behind her. “Like this,” his voice rumbled above her as he held her wrists immobile. “Instinct is to turn and twist the hand, like a serpent. Keep your wrist straight.” His feet followed her pattern, his hands on her forearm, unafraid of the weapon. Korm’s hard body shadowed hers from behind, his cock tantalising her with occasional brushes against her ass. It was dangerous, erotic, and perfect.

“Now that is the proper way to learn arms.” Ash glided into the room, perfectly naked. Drew almost jabbed herself. Only Korm’s sudden grip kept them both from a nasty poke. God save her.

“You’re assuming, Ashwin.” Korm’s voice deepened, his body cupping hers from behind as he twisted the weapons from her hands. Drew stood bereft and longing, not knowing what to say. Yeah, she’d already seen the lean dancer’s perfection of Ash’s body. But round two didn’t lessen the impact. “The lady has not given implicit direction that she is interested in pursuing a…” His voice trailed off. Drew looked at Korm’s frustrated expression. He called me lady.

“She was handling your weapons,” Ash commented, not missing a beat with Drew’s snort of illicit humour. “You do not let just anyone fondle your waerspic.”

Her gaze slid from one man to the other. Did Korm’s eyes just glaze over at that comment? His breath stopped, no hitch, just stopped for a moment while he stared at Ash. Not for the first time, she felt like there was some kind of subtext going on between them that she was missing. Her own nature was a contradiction. She wanted Ash, badly. Her conscience poked at her. Fine, she wanted them both equally. Instinctively she wanted to fight the attraction to Korm, to hold back, the same as he did. On the other hand, accepting her lust for Ash was as easy as falling down. The possessiveness evident in his stance and ready erection was a dead giveaway to his thoughts.

Using the tip of her tongue, she licked her bottom lip. The moment drew both men’s eyes. Danger! Warning! Her inner alarm shrilled as she bit her lower lip, letting the plumpness pull free. Oh, yeah. She definitely had their attention.  She wondered if she might be doing herself and Korm a big disservice. Didn’t she owe it to him to broaden his horizons?

“I want to suck you off,” she told Korm¸ a thrill of devilment prodding her to grin as he dropped the waerspic on the table. His expression was more than priceless, a mixture of shock and sexual anticipation that made her hold her grin in check. She’d never dared talk to previous lovers so boldly. The feeling was liberating. “So what do you say, kith-ra? Since you like group projects, I suck you and Ash fucks me while you get to watch?” Drew threw an extra swing into her step as she approached.

Yeah, so her sense of self-preservation was lacking. The ride was going to be amazing while it lasted. She had the rest of her miserable future to hide from the universe. Today, she was taking it by the hands…and mouth.

Drew closed the distance. Reaching out she ran a bold hand down the front of his pants. The loose material hid nothing from her searching touch. Thick and hard, his cock pressed back at her attention. Drew licked her lips, slipping her hand between the waist and his skin. So hot and thick. All of it, waiting for her.

“So you want me to fuck you?” Ash’s low voice sent a shiver down her spine. In the years to come—if she lived that long—she’d at least have a few memories to keep her entertained.

“You asked what I wanted.” Drew looked over her shoulder, a little startled when he rubbed his cheek against hers. A hand on her neck brought her glance back to Korm, who’d already shucked his pants. Her own breath caught as she eyed every sculpted muscle of his abdomen, the ridge of his hip. She swallowed as his penis bobbed in acknowledgement.

Somewhere during the time her mind shut down on pure sexual anticipation, her cargo pants slithered towards her ankles. Korm grabbed the hem of her tank and pulled up. Her arms followed the movement, trapped when he grinned down at her, holding her wrists tangled in the fabric. Every naked line of her body pressed against his. “Breathe.” Ash reminded as his hand trailed down her quivering abdomen. He delved her saturated pussy. Drew gurgled in mindless pleasure.

Korm let go of her hands, his own landing on her breasts. Searching for a sane thought Drew slid her hands over all that tantalising skin, seeking and finding his cock. Ash pushed at her from behind and Drew shifted, allowing him entrance. His fingers slid around her clit while her core clenched, protesting the emptiness.

Sliding her fingers around Korm’s cock, she squeezed, just enough to get his attention. It did all right. Pulling away, Korm pushed down on her shoulder. The lighter grey of his eyes was just a bit wild. His nostrils flared like a stallion scenting his mare. “Your mouth is too high.”

Allowing the movement, Drew kneeled, thrilled at the new view. If Korm was magnificent from above, he was godlike from below. His sac was large, suspended to perfectly showcase the wide blunt length of him. Drew leant forward, her tongue flicking out to taste the seam between hip and thigh. Male musk saturated the skin there, making her even wetter. Dimly she wondered if she was on a pheromone high. Could you get high from pheromones?

It didn’t matter and Drew’s mouth closed over the head of his cock. Her hands cupped the sac while she wondered how far she could take him. Tongue swirling over the bullet head, she sucked hard, tasting the nutty flavour of precum. Niiice.

“Get down, I can’t get good leverage.” Ash’s voice broke into her all-you-can-eat buffet. “Kormec, come too. She’s too short for me to take like this.” She whimpered a bit as Korm disengaged her to squat on the floor. Then, amazing both God and woman, he lay down, sprawled on his back in front of her. Drew fell on his penis like a woman starved. Taking him in her mouth, she steadied him with her hand. Slowly she crept down him, discovering that she could almost fit all of him inside her mouth.

Ash’s sudden thrust made her swallow all of Korm. The feeling was amazing, cock in mouth and cock in pussy. Ash withdrew, pulling her back. Drew followed the motion going back down on Korm, who grasped her hair in a vice-like grip. The rhythm pounded through her, building a galaxy of sensation inside her. Every stroke of Ash inside her. Every lick and slide of Korm’s penis fed on more sensation. She wanted it all. Ash’s strokes became more demanding. The man beneath her made a guttural sound, his hand on her head urging her on as his cock grew thicker. His breath more ragged. Drew couldn’t tell whose breathing was heaviest. She felt—connected. Every star, every sensation, for the tiniest of moments the universe stilled and she could feel her mouth on Korm, her vagina closing around Ash. Korm thrust upwards hard while Ash gripped her hips, jerking and slamming his nuts against her clit. They climaxed in a Big Bang, screaming the far-flung release.

Drew peeled her eyes open and peered at the aftermath. Arms and legs tangled all over. She had no bones, she decided, and laid her head back down on the shoulder that supported her. A hand trailed down her hip. Drew looked—lolled, really—and found Ash curled against her while she was tucked beside Korm. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift, shutting down the alarm in her brain that wanted to kill the perfect moment.

“Is that important?” Korm’s chest rumbled the question beneath her. Drew came to, realising that the alarm wasn’t in her head. The pinging systems alarm was insistent. Drew hauled herself to her feet.

“What is it?” Ash asked.

“Systems alarm. It’s not mechanical,” she told him when he looked ready to bolt to the engine bay. Drew sighed and hunted the floor for her clothes. At least her libido was satisfied at the moment and her imagination was on overload, or she’d be wondering more about why she was so ramped up. Why was sex with these two so much more, when she’d never had much of a need for it before? Hell, she’d thought she was beginning to think she was frigid until now.

Drew wiped a hand over her face before running her fingers through her hair. She had to stay on track. “It’s probably the secondary IP computer in conflict with the mainframe. There’s always a chance of that when you run it long term.”

“What does that mean in layman’s terms?” Korm coloured immediately, bringing a smirk to Ash’s lips. For almost half a minute, Drew didn’t get the pun, then she couldn’t quite get the image out of her head. She pushed the image away.

“It means that we’ve got to reroute to the closest skid port so that I can correct the conflict. Kisk-Q is too far away and we run the risk of losing vital support systems if I ignore it.” She could practically feel the building argument and distaste in Korm. She could see Ash’s blatant curiosity.

“Where are you going?” Korm demanded as she walked away. Irritation and just a touch of fear shot through her as she waved him off and headed to the cockpit. Not fear of the ship failing them, but of the feelings that swirled in her. Feelings that did not belong to her.

Chapter Four

Korm’s sneer of distaste curled through the back of Drew’s mind as they stood behind the privacy shield on the lowered engine bay ramp. The shield did not actually stop anyone from entering the open ramp, but would sound an alarm if unauthorised personnel tried to get in. It also shielded the engine bay from prying eyes while affording them a clear view of the dock

She shot a look at him and frowned at the neutral expression he used to survey the pitted, scarred landing pads and ramshackle, beyond poverty-stricken port-of-call. Where Kisk-Q was possibly the best a mining colony had to offer. Decent government, steady safe jobs, and public education, Sefnee was far on the opposite end of the spectrum. Mined of all of its potentially valuable minerals, the moon-sized asteroid was riddled with caverns and tunnels perfect for pirates and criminals to get lost in. Without any engines to keep its location, Sefnee drifted, slowly bumped hither and yon through space. After a hundred years of settling in and resisting the GI Guard’s sporadic attempts to evacuate the warren of seedy businesses and even shadier denizens, Sefnee wasn’t exactly a vacation Mecca. Warm, dank air smelling of fumes, unwashed bodies, and a general rank fetidness, blew down from the vents cut into the asteroid turned space station. Everywhere hawkers of mostly illegal goods and mystery food ‘delicacies’ vied for newcomers attention. Clusters of shops with wire fencing for ventilated roofing made for a chaotic business district.

The man didn’t have to actually do anything to ramp her irritation. Opening her mouth, she had every intent to tell him, ‘Sure, there’s a NovaBlooms in the market quarter,’ just to see him bristle at the idea of the high-end department store gutter to gutter in a lowly skid port.

“Amazing!” Ash’s body heat invaded her space as his hands slipped around her waist from behind. Drew wanted to protest, but the urge died with the press of lips against her neck. His easy intimacy baffled and shook her resolve. With anyone else, even Korm, the shine of metal flashed under her nose would have had her fighting a potential garrotte. “We have something for you.” We? As in Ash and Korm? She glanced at the warrior but he looked away. Ash’s breath brushed against her neck, where she could imagine the extra long chain would rest. “Say yes, Captain Drew Rodgers.”

“You know, they say to beware of a trader’s gifts.” She was teasing, but swore Korm’s skin flushed at her comment. Drew twisted to meet Ash’s intense expression. Again, the feeling of brushing up against both men’s emotions disconcerted her. The moment filled with expectation, irritation and longing. “The necklace is important. How?”

“It is the trilliacia. It is the only damn thing left to offer.” Korm’s expletive surprised her enough to glance at him. He walked to the hydraulics holding the ramp open. “The trilliacia will offer you some protection if we are caught.”

“What? Like temporary membership to the Nightsky clan? I didn’t think skids like me applied?” She couldn’t help the nasty tone that slipped out.

“Either take the damn chain or not, Drew.” Kormec-ra, the proud kith warrior, turned his head to pin her with an expression that shamed her for making light of the gift. She didn’t know all of the circumstances of their flight from the Starpath. Coming from great wealth and power to travelling with only the clothes on your back had to be a great blow to the pride. Drew imagined that circumstances had to be dire for them to leave behind everything to avoid an arranged marriage. Frankly, she wouldn’t want to be pushed into a marriage not of her choosing. News companies throughout the universe were well known for playing headlines to the highest bidder, proving that sensationalism was a human trait, not an Earth one.

She touched the links, noticing the faint pattern that shimmered over the surface of the metal. This close, she could see that it was a match for Ash’s bracelet. She understood pride and the need to not be beholden to generosity. “Okay, then. I accept. Thank you. Both of you, I’m honoured.”

“No.” Korm walked back, his large frame looming over her. The serious vibe she was getting from him and Ash made her want to squirm out from between them and run.  She held her ground and met him stare for stare. Once again, she was between them, feeling like the three of them were a completed circuit and with sexual energy arching between them. “No,” he repeated, in a much softer voice as he touched the chain briefly. “The trilliacia isn’t a trinket to be passed around. It is a gift that must be chosen in the giving and the receiving. Do you choose this?” He touched the chain again, his eyes locked with hers.

Drew didn’t know what to say. There was a massive cultural point she was missing here, warned her hindbrain. She didn’t want to be considered their sister or something equally icky. Ash was completely still behind her, holding the chain between her and Korm. Each one of them focused on her answer. “Yeah. Yes, I choose your trilliacia.” The words loosened the tension from the two men. Ash leaned in, brushing another kiss on her shoulder while Korm watched her with his inscrutable expression. Emotionally, he drew back. Ash dropped the chain to her waist and hooked it around at her side. “I thought this was a necklace?”

Ash laughed and came around to adjust the extra links to hang in the front. “Kith women do not wear neck or wrist jewellery.” At her frown of confusion he smiled again, flashing gorgeous dimples as he explained. “Women wear waist, ankle, and eyebrow jewellery. Men wear neck, wrist, and nipple jewellery.”

“Uh. Well.” She was certainly glad no one offered her a nipple ring. There were some lines she didn’t want to cross. Drew glanced back at Korm. “We good?”

Korm nodded once. “You can get the necessary parts to repair the ship here?”

“Yes. I just need to erase the old IP programme and plug in a new one. It’s a simple fix, but the programmers purposely add self-destruct codes to the memory sticks, so that they are a one-time use. If your system goes bad again, you have to buy another.” She was able to address them both while she fidgeted with covering up the chain belt with her tank top. Realising that her clothing choice of worn Earth denims and a sleeveless top wouldn’t cover the expensive chain, she used the excuse for a chance to compose herself and get some distance. Drew edged from between the men to rummage in a wall locker where she thought she had hidden a semi-clean pair of coveralls. She clenched her jaw, ignoring the feeling that one of them disapproved and one was amused as she shoved her booted foot through the legs and pressed the tear-away fastenings together. The chain could have weighed a ton for the emotional drag it was putting on her. She made herself rejoin her guys. They aren’t stray animals to adopt, she reminded herself. Ash and Korm didn’t need her. They’d leave when they found a safe haven.

“Is that an actual combustible fuel engine?” Ash went on point like one of her uncle’s hunting dogs, his nose centimetres from the privacy shield. He glided out of the ship and was bouncing down the dock before Drew could warn him to stay close, be careful, and well…not to wander off after strange vehicles belching noxious fumes.

Korm sighed. “I’ll get him.” His big shoulders squared as he started to follow then paused. Confusion wedged between her skull and neck as he touched her cheek with one large finger. “Be careful, lady.” She nodded, admitting the tension was less from her concern over Ash’s tendency to run off than this connection she was experiencing with them. The confusion had been with her from the moment she’d realised they were staying on.

“You too.” She scanned the crowd one more time, barely seeing Ash duck into a shop sporting shiny twenty-first-century wheel covers as decor. Drew pointed him out and handed him one of the palm-sized devices she’d brought with her. “There he is. Here, take the backup remote so you can get back in. I’ve already set the system to recognise the both of you.” Korm gave the thing a bare glace before nodding and taking off after Ash. “Meet me back here in an hour.” Waving his acceptance, he ignored a persistent hawker with a glowing rock and shoved another peddler out of the way. She almost laughed at the obvious satisfaction the man got from the manhandling. The same as Ash got from all things mechanical. With the second remote, she closed the bay door, locked down the ugly metal shield plating to deter jackers from stripping the Pandora for parts, set the alarm and went in search of an IP programming stick.

“Hey-hey.” A vendor waved mystery meat on a stick in Drew’s face. Rat or some other vermin, soaked in soy sauce and seasoned with whatever fungus grew naturally on Sefnee. Drew’s stomach wanted to lurch. She’d take an energy bar any day. Instead, she ignored the man/woman—she couldn’t’ tell the difference. Filth and disease had eaten at the person’s skin. Stringy thin hair and crumbling blackened teeth were the norm here. The few children that she saw ran in packs of their own for survival, probably unaware of their parentage. She snarled at a thin, but fairly decent-looking kid who tried the cute scam on her. Drew kept going. Like snakes, the young here were more dangerous than the adults. Scanning the scrap buildings, she found the symbol and slipped past the rolled-up fence that served as a door. “Wa-ell, wa-ell,” the scratchy voice greeted her within a few steps of entering the computer cluttered shop. Hardware and bits and pieces from every age jumbled together on dusty mouldy shelves. The speaker coughed, giving Drew a chance to locate the blanket-wrapped skeletal figure in the chair. She frowned as the reek of Rooma, a mushroom-based alcohol, hit her nose. “If my old eyes don’t deceive me. They sez you took up with Capn’ Larissa’s boys.”

“Shiv.’ So, everyone in the underbelly of space knew who’d ferried Ash and Korm from Celestial VIII station. The news struck a wary chord in her. Like most small traders, Drew had a far-flung network of contacts, some more loyal than others. She wove through the shop and knelt on the dirty floor. “You’re only about ten years older than me.” Shiv cackled and shivered—Rooma addicts often developed a neurological disorder. Rooma effects had taken a hard toll on the once brave and brash woman. One filthy nail-bitten hand patted her on the shoulder. Wild dilated eyes jumped from point to point, never truly settling on Drew.

“I’m hunnreds of years older than you, chick-a-lee.” Squinting, Shiv leant forward, blasting Drew again with her breath. “You still gots Mara’s treasure? She came to me, you know. Afore she…” Her gaze shifted over to the shelves, bouncing to the door and to her guest.

Drew detested the dependency and Shiv’s drug use had ultimately been the reason for their parting. Mara had been willing to overlook the using, hoping that they’d be able to reason with their third partner, make her want to get better. Shiv had stolen them blind and retreated to Sefnee, floating without an anchor as much as the asteroid she lived in. Drew even knew about the comm calls and visits Mara made to try and clean her up. In the end, you couldn’t help someone who wasn’t willing to help herself.

Patting Shiv’s trembling hand, Drew nodded. “What’s the term?” She cocked her head, scanning scribbled labels attached to the shelves where a couple of wand-sized data sticks lay. Shiv had picked up a few things from Mara over the years, making her a kick-ass security backup with some decent mechanical skills. Too bad neither Drew nor Mara had been able to do the same. Drew was good enough in a bar fight, but she was no match for someone like Korm, or Shiv stone-sober and ready to rock space. “On ice. I’ve got it on ice.” One bin title struck her and Drew stood, walking the short distance away. “I’ve got an IP conflict. This a full erase and reboot kit?”

Shiv’s trembling became worse as she huddled over her knees, murmuring about needing another shot. Drew sighed, taking the stick, and knelt in front of her old friend. She patted the hand again, her other taking out the throwaway cred-card that wasn’t linked to any of her accounts. She carefully folded the woman’s knobby fingers around it, speaking quietly. “There’s around fifty-k on the card, Shiv. Take it. Go to Kisk-Q. I never sold Mara’s condo. You can get help.” Her throat ached, remembering the times they’d run badly needed vaccines past the GI Guard—she, Mara and Shiv. The three of them had owned the skies. “You remember that orphanage we relocated?” The words hurt to speak, but Shiv nodded. Drew chose to believe it was a nod, not another drug withdrawal shudder.

“They was-s-s young. S-s-sick. Needed more n’ meds.” Shiv stared into the past, remembering more than her next dose of Rooma. “But we saved ‘em. Dinn’t we?”

“Yes, we saved them. You were amazing, holding the soldiers off with a riding crop and a measly stunner.” The old woman’s ravaged cheeks were like paper in her palms. Drew leant forward, trying to will strength into her old friend. “Go to Sister Gale. She’ll help you.”

“S-s-sorry, chick-a-lee. Can’t shoot to save myself anymore. Go.”  Shaking her head free, Shiv started rocking harder, her thin gnarled arms wrapped around the filthy blankets and clothing. “S-s-so s-s-sorry. Just go.”

Drew rose to her feet, the reboot kit in hand. Shiv’s lucidity lasted a little longer.

“They sez you took up with Capn’ Larissa’s boys. They good crew, I heard. You could be on top again.” Shiv repeated her earlier comment. Or was it a warning? The rocking commenced again and her eyes glazed, as she sing-songed her goodbye. “Go, chick-a-lee. Fly fast. Chicka-chicka-lee.”

Movement behind some of the racks caught Drew’s attention. She eased in that direction, hand on the stunner she’d secreted in her waistband. “Hello?” No one answered. Shiv’s muttering and singing was background music to the emptiness of her shop. Outside, Sefnee pulsed with activity. Drew turned to leave, laying a final hand on Shiv’s shoulder. “Go to the sisters, Shiv. They can help.”

Shaking her head, Drew’s old friend rocked harder. “No help. Go-go-go. Treasure. Mara’s treasure.”

The pathetic waste filled Drew’s eyes with hot tears. Giving Shiv one last pat on the shoulder, she left, getting a good grip on her emotions before the brat packs marked her. “Goodbye.” Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn. She blinked, pure shock freezing her system at the dark-haired man she never expected to see again. Eyes dark as night set like twin black holes in the paleness of his face. His beard and moustache were trimmed short, the colour as black as the hair that touched the tops of his ears. He spun a walking stick between his fingers. Fight or flight response kicked in, making her heart pound in both fear and the call for retribution.

“Hello, chick-a-lee. I see you still have abominable taste in attire.” Dresher, Mara’s murderer, was the only one besides Shiv to call her that. In her will, Mara left everything to Drew, indicating that her mate didn’t know about the gem. And frankly, Drew didn’t think Captain Larissa would send an assassin to retrieve Ash and Korm. Apparently, she thought wrong.

Drew ducked at the evil laughter that followed her out of the shop. The knob of the walking stick tapped her and pure electricity shot through her body. Drew cried out and fell. The lightning rod shocked her again. Dresher’s face swam into her wavering vision. “Now, about my Mara’s treasure.” The words were reasonable, spoken in the smooth accent that had drawn her friend in. Drew would have spat at him if she could have made her muscles cooperate. He lifted a gloved finger, the elegance that drew her friend to him so very evident. “Now, now. That’s not the proper way to greet your brother-in-law.” Drew stared at him in confusion. He bent down closer, lowering his voice. “Did not tell you that little bit, did she? What she ever saw in the likes of you, I will never understand. It is your fault, primate, that Mara succumbed to the dark so quickly. And your drugged shipmate?” He sniffed a disdainful laugh. “Her usefulness is over. Where is my gem?”

“Fuck you, lizard.” Drew choked the words out. Electricity burned through her body, losing her throat in a strangled scream. Every muscle twitched and seized. Numbly she thought she might have pissed herself. The world shifted out of focus, the soft blurring edges closed around her consciousness.

* * * *

Korm snarled at the vagrants and thieves that made up the population of the Sefnee asteroid port. He hesitated to call the place habitable, much less a station. If Lanard-ra and the small band of kith-ra Captain Larissa sent after them still operated on the belief that they would stick to what was known, Korm hoped that Ash would have a chance at the freedom he craved so badly.

Ahead of him, he could see his quarry poking at a rolling junk-pile. Literally, the thing rolled on wheels, belching poisonous grey smoke from a pipe welded to the top. He shook his head. It was no wonder these people looked so ill and starved. Ash looked up, wonder and excitement filtered through the bond between them as Korm absently dissuaded a pickpocket from his belt. The pockmarked thief bawled in a heap behind him, cradling what was left of its fingers. He didn’t care to know the amateur’s sex. “You should not breath in the exhaust.” He waved at the lingering grey cloud. “This cannot be healthy.”

“It is a wonder.” Ash touched the beat-up hunk of metal with unabashed awe as he reverted to their natural tongue. The kith-dana accent flowed more easily, emphasising the kith words properly, adding sophistication to speech that Korm would never be able to duplicate, had he even wanted. He was bred and born to be exactly what he was. Unlike Ash, whose elegance and obvious breeding hid a far more complex nature than was needed or desired in the dana station. “The combustion engine is precursor to the solar engine. Every human culture is different, some skipping the atom splicing stage, other the core inversion. But everyone goes through the combustion, solar, then ultimately harnessing black hole tech.” He stared at the vehicle a bit longer before Korm sensed that Ash was ready to step away. “But the interconnection of all civilisation begins with this simple machine.”

“The owner thinks you’re touched in the head.” Korm gave the speculative, hunch-backed driver a stare that meant business. “I think you’ve inhaled too much of the fumes. We should go back to the ship before our captain leaves without us.”

Ash moved to his side. The action was practiced, grounded in the need for the rich kith-dana to pair their sons with someone who could provide protection. The system had worked well since before the kith had taken to the stars. “Captain Drew is our one. The trilliacia is complete. She will not leave without us.” The repetitive refrain made Korm want to grind his teeth in frustration. When Drew discovered their deception, she wouldn’t just leave them. She was a woman who counted on trust. His honest nature writhed at having abused that trust from the beginning. He and Ash would be lucky if she did not toss them out of her airlock once they hit space.

Korm focused on their surroundings and the hawkers that came too close with skewers of unidentifiable meat. He glared until they backed away, finding other, less discerning, customers. Every one of Korm’s nerves stood on alert. Danger was more than discovery.

The crowded den of the fallen and the depraved made his kith-ra trained senses scream to leave. He paused, scanning the way he’d come and decided to detour around a cluster of open-roofed shops. “Dead body.” Ash craned to see over the uninterested crowd to the two people in dark jumpsuits poking at a sprawled body. “Maybe we should—”

“We should leave. The authorities have it handled.” Korm pulled his charge closer and speed-walked to pass a small alley. Death and filth hovered in the air, making him think that those officials may want to take a look in there too.

Two lean figures shuffled out, blocking their path. Small, spare men, Korm gauged. They’d be fast and desperate. Their clothing hung on them in rags, the colour reminiscent of dirty mud. One held a sharpened spike, the other pointed a modified stunner at Korm. “Give over yer creds, trader-boys,” said the one holding the stunner. His guttural speech had an Ormber Forges rumble.

“Long way from the starship assembly lines.” Ash shifted, one hand rubbing down his forearm. “You do not hear of many assembly workers leaving the union.”

“Shaddup and give over yer creds or I’ll shoot yer, friend. Stab the mouthy bastard if’n he talks again,” the thief with the stunner told his partner.

Laughing evilly, the spike-wielder discharged spittle through his thin, greasy beard. He waved the spike in Ash’s direction. “Yer the pretty one. Soft. Mebbe we can work something out, heh-heh.”  He reached out to touch the hair Ash had begun wearing loose lately. Ash exploded into action, slicing the dagger he’d pulled from his sleeve across the robber’s weapon arm.

Korm slipped the waerspic handles from his belt. The curved blades popped into place with flick of his wrists. In a smooth motion he inserted himself between the squealing spike-holder, dodging the red wave of light and thump of sound that would have slammed into him with the force of a small transport. The waerspic danced in his hands, handle jabbing into the neck of the spike-attacker, while he opened a red path down the upper arm of the other. Bright red blood splashed on the ground, the first spot of colour he’d seen in this forsaken place. The stunner fell from the robber’s nerveless hand. Korm crouched, spinning both waerspic.

“This is a bad decision. Continue and I will end your pathetic existence.” His thumb ghosted over a concealed button, springing the hilt spikes free. He waited a heartbeat. “What do you choose?”

The thieves jumped back into the death-ridden alley, scurrying through trash and things Korm had no intention of seeing. He glanced at Ash, calmly wiping the blade of his dagger on a handkerchief. “Are you well?” He quelled his worry at the amusement dancing in Ash’s eyes. His excitement in the adventure was at odds with the calm, tidy way he folded and put away the soiled cloth. Korm shook his head. “Your breeding is showing, kith-dana.”

“Why? Because I own a handkerchief?” Ash pushed up the loose sleeve of his tunic and re-strapped the weapon. The natural fall of the sleeve hid the outline. He looked up. “The use of a handy cloth is not regulated to the dana.”

Korm chuckled. “No, but the use of Spyder silk and using a star fold before putting it away is very much a tell.”

Ash narrowed his eyes, his fingers going to the belt pocket he’d slipped the cloth into. Pursing his lips in thought, he finally let out an undignified lower-class grunt. “Well… Is that not our Captain Rogers?”

Automatically grasping his charge’s arm, Korm pulled them back into a crumbling archway as he tracked another, far more dangerous threat than the robbers. So far, Lanard and his kith-ra group were focused on Drew as she left the building in a hurry. Korm could not see her expression, but from the faint link he and Ash now had with her, he guessed that surprise made her duck and turn. She was aware of the danger before the shock rod first slammed into her. He kept his grip, hardening his feelings against the second shock from the rod that her cloaked attacker jolted her with.

Drew’s pain and fury in the face of her helplessness made him want to cheer her on. She spat at her attacker, crouched over her. Their words didn’t carry well in the constant back noise of the Sefnee marketplace.

“Dresher,” murmured Ash. Korm nodded, holding tight in case the other man tried to bolt to rescue. Dresher, Captain Larissa’s pet draconi, had managed to slip his leash long enough to find a mate, only to lose her to the dark sleep. Most thought the dark sleep was a disease that only affected female draconi. Korm had never been close to Captain Larissa’s pet and Dresher wasn’t the kind to make friends or spill the close kept secrets of his species. The draconi was sneaky, dangerous, and now that his mate was gone, loyal once again to the most powerful kith captain in their people’s fleet.

Korm watched, feeling like the lowest of the low, while Dresher hauled an unconscious Drew like a common sack of supplies and tossed her over his shoulder. The kith-ra who wouldn’t have touched her, except to kill, followed. Lanard stopped and turned on his heel. The kith-ra had been the most intuitive of their class. Once, their parents had thought to pair them up to fashion an incredible fighting unit. The offer of a match to Captain Larissa’s only son changed that, with no hard feelings on either side. Or so his parents had told Korm; living among the dana put him in the tenuous position of not truly belonging to either class.

Lanard slipped into the shop and returned, dragging a weak, shaking, drug addict behind him.

Curious and curiouser, Korm thought.

* * * *

The pounding woke her. The heavy pulsing heartbeat of a massive cruiser. Drew opened her eyes to slits, realising that the pounding was her head. Hanging upside down, the blood rushed towards where gravity shoved it. Her shoulders ached from the shocks and from nearly brushing the floor. The tight grip of prisoner manacles gripped her ankles in a bruising, biting vice. For a tiny moment terror held Drew in its clutches. She was trapped in a hole where no one would ever find her. She’d die alone in the dark.

Sanity returned as she recognised the bone-deep thrum of a cruiser classed ship.  She took a breath and forced the panic into a small airlock it the back of her mind. Experimentally, she moved her arms, feeling more constrained by the jumpsuit than before. Every muscle in her body ached from Dresher’s little lightning rod. A shuffle and moan made her freeze, then relax as she realised she wasn’t alone. A guard wouldn’t sound that pitiful. “Shiv?” she whispered.

“S-s-sorry. Chick-a-deee,” the woman whimpered.

“It’s okay, Shiv.” Her old partner’s distress was enough to prod Drew into action. Lifting up, she grunted as her abs protested the crunch. Feeling the manacles around her ankles didn’t help, but knowing the cold metal was a simple magnet lock helped some. Not very many people used magnetised locks anymore, not with crystal tech so readily available to every Joe and Slar who travelled the universe.

“I s-s-sold you out,” Shiv whispered. The raspy sound caught on a sob. “S-s-sold you for rooma. An’ dinn’t get none. Kill me quick afore I do worse.”

Drew’s head pounded out her fear and frustration. For a moment she wanted to scream. Traitor! I will fucking kill you! After all we did for you? Fucking traitor! Instead, she forced herself to look through the anger, to push it away and look for an escape. Still, her eyes caught on Shiv’s huddled, shaking form. “It will be okay.” The words were met with denial. “Look at me. We’ll get out and you’ll get help. Shiv. We will get through this,” she said the last, raising her voice to get past the moaning and into Shiv’s consciousness.

Letting herself relax as much as she could, Drew crossed her arms over here chest. Her shoulders didn’t hurt so much in that position. She narrowed her eyes, thinking, staying as still as possible to minimise the discomfort of the manacles around her ankles.

They would get out. And then, she’d make certain Dresher never laid a finger, claw, or eye on the treasure Mara entrusted to her. Oh, yeah. Drew was fully invested now.  She was looking forward to the inevitable meet with that bitch, Captain Larissa of the Nightsky clan.

Chapter Five

The cell door slid open with a grinding slide. “You should get that looked into,” Drew said, “but then, good mechanics are hard to come by. Aren’t they?” She watched the smartly dressed woman advance into the room, loyal lackeys at her heels. Smart, in her Spyder silk, hand-stitched uniform. Her hair was sharply cut at the collarbone, angling up and back to the base of her skull. Drew couldn’t see features, but she tried on her best sneer since she couldn’t play dress-up too. “Nice boots.”

One of the lackeys punched her in the kidney. Drew grunted from the force of the blow. Her eyes smarted at the pain and she gritted her teeth, refusing to whimper. Captain Larissa crouched until they were eye level. Focusing upside down on the other woman was a little disconcerting. “Now,” Larissa rested her gloved hands on her knees, “why don’t you tell me where you put my dragon egg?”

Raising one eyebrow—or was it lowering when you were hanging upside down?—Drew crossed her arms again. The position gave her a vague sense of security. “Egg? Captain, you disappoint me. There are no dragons.” Slowly, she shook her head from side to side. “Surely, you don’t believe in that old tale that the draconi are really dragons in disguise. And to think, you were my favourite adversary. I guess I’ll have to re-evaluate my plan to annoy you.”

The guard punched her kidney again, harder. The grunt was much more pronounced and Drew swallowed to keep from throwing up bile. She imagined she was going to be peeing blood for a week. It took a little longer to regain her composure.

Larissa leaned in a little further, so that their noses almost touched. Her voice lowered to a confidential tone. “I know your mechanic, Mara Destris, was draconi enough to mate and breed. I also know what their eggs look like.” The smile was harsh, a baring of teeth instead of a friendly gesture. “So where is the gem she gave you?”

“There you go, Cap’n Larissa. Assuming things again.” Drew’s return smile was tight with the pain of her aching kidneys. “You assumed I wanted the salt mine deal because it would turn over a good revenue. But you’re a little rocket-burned from the piddling amount that the miners are willing to export. You assume that my mechanic gave me an expensive gem when we weren’t all that close. A dragon egg, no less.” Drew snorted a laugh, tensing for the blow that Larrissa waved off at the last moment.

She sobered and met Larrissa stare for stare. “There’s an old Earther saying about assuming something. You make an ass of u and me.” Drew swore she could see the other woman’s blood pressure rise. One of her temples throbbed, a tiny tell that Captain Larissa wasn’t as sure of Drew’s possession of Mara’s treasure as she let on.

“You’re rooma-addicted draconi friend over there will feel twice the pain of torture during withdrawal.” Larissa’s threat almost made Drew smile. Instead she shrugged, knowing she had the upper hand. Captain Larrissa Nightsky of the trader ship Starpath had nothing.

“Go ahead. She sold me out.” Drew wasn’t a fighter, but a skid trader had to make a living on her wits and her old-fashioned poker face. She shot a hate-filled glare at Shiv’s huddled form. “Do whatever you want, but get that stinking traitor out of here.”

“She is bluffing, captain,” one of the lackeys said. “Lanard-ra believes the prisoner has a certain soft spot for the addict.”

“Soft spot?” Twisting around, Drew tried to grab the lackey. “Let me go and I’ll show you a fucking soft spot. The one I use to rip out the bitch’s heart, because I’ll kill her myself.”

Larissa grabbed her coveralls, stopping the wild movement. At an unseen signal, the manacles on Drew’s feet let loose, slamming her into the metal floor. Yep, she decided. The gravity worked really well on the Starpath. The room spun as Larissa pulled her to her feet. The soft chink of the metal belt made them all stop. “What was that?” The captain looked uncomfortable, as if an unthinkable thought had entered her head.

Drew debated on spilling her guts about the belt, then laughed. “Cred coins. Do you idiots think I’m stupid enough to use a cred card on Sefnee?” Larissa’s grip tightened, her other hand going for Drew’s throat before she was simply dumped on the floor. Drew laughed again, despite the bruising to her kidneys. “What the hell did you think I had? A Paradise prostitute’s dancing costume?”

She focused on Shiv, letting the anger inside her spill out. Scrambling to her feet she started for her old shipmate. The shock rod wasn’t a surprise this time, but it still hurt like the devil. Drew seized up and fell to the floor, where she’d drool for a bit while the effects wore off. Captain Larissa’s boots stepped into her field of view. “Take the draconi to another cell. They’re both useless except as fodder for the pits.” Three pair of boots—one expensive, two plain—left the cell. Shiv was dragged between the plain, shaking and whimpering. She wouldn’t be safe or comfortable in a different cell, but Larissa wouldn’t have her tortured if Shiv wasn’t a bargaining chip.

As soon as she could manage the feat, Drew turned over and rested her forearm over her eyes. How in the darkest blackhole of Hell am I going to get out of this one?

* * * *

“Ash—” Korm hissed as the other man dashed from behind a pallet of canned meat to a red and green painted shuttle with its cargo door wide open. “…win” His frustration went up a notch as a green cloaked priest strode out of the passenger area and properly bowed to several brethren before leaving the line of sight by skirting the freight area. A few moments later a green robe flew at him. Korm turned, ready to fight, and relaxed a bit at Ash’s green swathed fashion statement. “The punishment for impersonating a priest is flogging,” he growled. Shaking the robe out, he noted it was big even for his size.

“Then don’t get caught.” Ash’s quip was as dead serious as when he’d said, “Fly the ship and don’t kill us in the process.”

Korm nodded. Fine, they would find Drew and not get caught. He’d managed to navigate the Pandora and land in the Starpath’s bay without much more than a small fire contained in one of the engine crystal barrels. So, now he wouldn’t let them get caught. He dropped the slithery robe over his head, noting that it would tangle in his legs if he had to fight.

“Drop your shoulders and keep your eyes on the floor,” Ash advised, placing his hands in the prayer position. All of a sudden, Proper Ashwin was gone, replaced by a tall yet generic priest of Gaemae, the life-giver.

Korm led them through the commoner’s living quarters, briefly remembering playing and running through the small courtyards. Boys and girls training to become kith-ra lived in separate dorms near the brig, learning the aspects of their future roles of warriors and protectors of the kith people.

“Father!” Korm cringed inwardly as a visibly pregnant young woman called out to them. One of her spouses took up the call and hurried towards him and Ash, who stood with the calm of a priest tending to the people. Korm wanted to grab him and run. Up close, Korm recognised the man and dropped his head and shoulders further, letting Ash take the lead. “Fathers,” huffed Korm’s cousin Lintle. “Our wife is due soon. Would you give us Gaemae’s blessing?” Soon? The woman looked like she would explode any moment. He settled at the warning in Ash’s thoughts, nodding as expected.

Lintle rushed back to help his bond-partner huddle around the expectant mother. Korm had never bothered keeping up with his relatives once he’d bonded with Ashwin. He wasn’t dana but he was expected to fit in. Rough and rowdy commoners and warriors were not proper friends. Now, watching the close-knit group advancing to watch the two priests bless a commoner birth made him wish he’d kept some connection. He slumped some more, praying along with Ash’s birth blessing that none of his cousins or brothers would recognise him.

“Blessings over your union.” Ash rested his hand on the woman’s distended belly reverently. “Blessings over the fruit of your union. Blessings over the unity of your family.” The crowd cheered and wept at the close of the ritual. They hugged one another, laughed, and chattered as only extended family and friends did. Korm and Ash slipped away in the celebration.

A figure stepped into their path towards the brig. He bowed slightly. “Ashwin-dana.” Turning slightly he addressed Korm. “Kormec-ra.” Lanard held out his hand, open palmed in the way of one kith warrior greeting another. “She is not here. The captain plans to allow your woman to gain her freedom in the pits. Other than a few jolts with the rod, she hasn’t even been searched. Captain Larissa is extending your Captain Drew Roberts an honorary.”

“How?” Ash’s confusion eddied in the back of his mind. “Why?”

“How indeed, Lanard-ra? It was coincidental that you showed up on Sefnee with Dresher.”

“I could never fool you, could I, Kormec-ra?” Lanard dropped the hand that wasn’t taken and motioned for them to follow. “I have no intention of arresting you. Either of you. However, if you wish to save your wife from the pits, you will have to trust me.”

“Yes.” Ash said, but Korm was already dogging Lanard’s heels. “How does he know?”

The whispered question made Korm smile while they looked out over the arena in the bowls of the Starpath. They changed the robes for simple, but clean, tunics and breeches offered by Lanard. The whole idea of the one charged with bringing Ashwin back helping them was off on the surface. Yet, Korm felt he could trust Lanard.

“She clinks like a newlywed in a brand-new trilliacia.” Lanard’s explanation made him look away over the crowd of dana, off-duty warriors and land-locked visitors that frequented the pit fights. The contest was an easy way for a condemned prisoner to gain freedom. Easy for the council who made the laws and judged most cases. Definitely not easy for the average prisoner who had to survive three combat rounds with a trained warrior representing the plaintiff against them.

“But why the honorary?” Ash pushed through the crowd, making Lanard curse. Korm followed. Yes. Why an honorary to a skid captain who has been a thorn in Captain Larissa’s side for years? Shoving through to the edge of the wall that separated the crowd from the combat area, Korm ignored the gasps of recognition. Across the way, underneath the captain’s dais, were the prisoners. Drew stood apart from them, unchained, still in the ghastly coverall she’d donned before leaving the ship. He was never so glad to see the ugly thing swallowing her petite figure. It might at least offer some protection. One of the captain’s guards assigned to Drew motioned for her to enter the ring.

“I am sorry,” Lanard-ra said from beside them. “We are too late.”

“No.” Ash started over the barrier, barely restrained by Korm. He shook his head, drawing more attention to their place in the commons. “I can’t believe my own mother would do this. Not for helping us.”

“Who says this is about you?” Lanard-ra grabbed Ash from the other side and finished hauling him back to the proper side of the rail. He leaned in. “It is not. This is—”

“Captain Drew Roberts, how do you plead on the charge of theft?” The council member’s voice rang out, cultured and lilting, even speaking Common GI.

Drew held her head up and marched out to the centre of the arena. She didn’t have much choice with the guards’ weapons trained on her.

“I am a lot of things,” her voice rang out as she turned in a circle, addressing the audience. Captain Larissa, she passed over. She stopped facing Korm and Ash. “But I am not a thief.” She looked back at the presiding captain of the ship. Korm didn’t know if he wanted to cheer or shake some sense into her when Drew’s chin came up. The fire in her eyes fixed on her accuser. Lifting one hand, she wriggled her fingers in a ‘come on’ gesture. “If this is what it takes to get back to my ship, then bring it on.”

Standing her ground, she watched Captain Larissa as an unknown female kith-ra walked onto the field. The crowd cheered. They loved the defiance and the chance for a good fight. Korm met Ash’s eyes and dread filled them both. Drew talked a good talk, was a damn fine pilot, but she was no warrior.

* * * *

Drew assessed her options. She could run like a sissy and be shot in the back or she could face this head on—and die. She just wished she didn’t have to do it in front of Korm and Ash.

The warrior woman, a freaking tall Amazon bitch, standing more than two heads above Drew, walked out to meet her. Ouch. This was going to hurt. Bad.

The queen of the Amazons pulled out a pair of waerspic, twirling the small scythes with ease. Drew backed up. This was justice? Her opponent charged. Drew spun and ran. It was all she could do to keep from screaming like a little girl. From the corner of her eyes something hit the floor. She veered that direction, praying to God and any other deity listening that it was Korm’s prized waerspic. Instead it was one of those hand-held batons that extended out into a man-high walking stick. What the hell was she going to do with a walking stick?

She scooped it up, giving the middle section a twist to extend out full length. Hey, now she had a bo staff. She turned, flashing back to her childhood karate course, and set her stance, aiming downwards. Bitch swung first. Drew took a step back, whipping the stick across her opponent’s extended wrist. Quickly, she tapped the woman’s face. While the Amazon was temporarily stunned, Drew spun around in a circle, building her momentum. The crack of the stick struck her attacker’s blocking left hand. The sound cracked again with bone. Damn, she’d been aiming for the head.

The bell rang once, signalling one round.

Amazon Bitch stepped back, her broken hand hanging loosely, the lost waerspic at her feet. Boy, does she look pissed off. Both women studied each other. Drew saw the moment her opponent decided to close the distance. Instinct said run like hell. Seeing the sharp spikes shoot out above the Amazon’s hand, Drew decided to duck. She braced the end of the stick against the floor, pointing the tip below Amazon’s sternum.

Her attacker shifted left, blade driving down at an angle. The curved weapon caught the loose material on Drew’s coveralls as she rolled back away. The swinging wearspic cut from the shoulder down to mid-stomach. For a frightening millisecond it felt like Drew was going to lose a nipple. It barely missed. Drew rolled back onto one knee, bringing the now charging Amazon into her sights. Bitch tried to fake her out again, but Drew wasn’t falling for it twice. It all happened in a blink of an eye. Drew shoved up with the staff, coming to her feet, and her opponent flew over her shoulder.

The bell rang twice signalling two rounds as the Amazon landed with a thud on the metal floor.

Drew spun again, facing her opponent once more. Amazon was on her back wheezing for air. Pointing the staff downwards, Drew edged into her enemy’s space. The staff aimed for the woman’s neck. Drew hesitated. Even though the big-ass Amazon bitch was trying to kill her, Drew couldn’t reciprocate. Wound, yes. Maim, sure. Kill, no.

Using the moment of hesitation, her opponent slashed at Drew’s legs with the remaining weapon. Drew shuffled back, blocking with the end of the staff. The uber-sharp waerspic sliced through the end of the staff. An arc of electricity sparked at the cut end. Drew grinned. “Oh, yeah. This is going to hurt. Bad.” She jabbed the sparking end into the Amazon’s shoulder. The woman yelped and jumped as if struck by lightning.

The third bell rang.

Drew jumped back, out of the woman’s range, in shock that she’d survived. Sweat soaked the binding coveralls that flapped across her chest. She tugged the material free, shoving the coveralls down her hips. The crowd was silent. The trilliacia belt shone in the arena lights.

Chapter Six

Drew heaved a breath, warily watching the kith-ra warrior woman climb to her feet. By all rights, Drew should be lying in a puddle of her own blood, dead. She kicked the coveralls free of her boots, just in case she needed to be light on her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Korm and Ash vault the wall that separated the sick fuckers in the audience from the poor schmucks getting slaughtered. Across the arena, Captain Larrissa bent to talk to one of her lackeys, then left the dais and the area. Amazon Bitch bowed and shuffled off the arena floor.

“How do you feel?” Ash immediately ran his hands over her arms and chest. Even now, his attention generated a spark of sexual heat, tightening her nipples to buds and sending a shiver of gooseflesh down her arms. “I saw the waerspic slice you.” His dark grey eyes perfectly matched the concern and agitation she felt swirling around them.

“It was a good fight,” Korm said, softly. “You are good with the staff.” Arousal made his lighter grey eyes gleam. Drew nodded, fighting off the urge to throw herself on her lovers.

“About that. You tossed me a walking stick?” Emotion ping-ponged inside Drew and she nudged the big warrior instead of smacking him.

Korm smirked. “You are smaller. You needed reach that the waerspic did not have.”

She turned to the approaching lackey. “You will all come with me.” His perfectly neutral voice gave nothing away, but the jolt of panic in her companions was definitely cause for concern. They filed out, each of her men bracketing her protectively as they walked into the lioness’s den.

* * * *

Captain Larissa sat behind a moderate, plain desk. Funny, Drew would have thought her more the intimidating exec desk type. An earther tea service sat on one end, steam curling from the spout. She steepled her fingers, staring at Drew.

Instead of being uncomfortable, Drew chose a chair and sat.

“So, you’ve garnered yourself a marriage into the Nightsky clan.” Larissa picked up her cup and sipped, setting it down as the shock registered in Drew.

Marriage? To Ash? The importance of accepting the trilliacia hit her. To both Ash and Korm. She looked at him, then controlling her emotions, returned her attention to her real adversary. Drew shrugged. “You think I chose the trilliacia to get back at you?” She chuckled.

“Didn’t you? I overbid the sodium mine out from under you and several others in the past.”

“That’s business.” She stood, taking the time to wipe her hands on her denims. The action drew attention to the trilliacia belt swinging. She took the time to touch each man on the arm before walking to the door, paused, and met Larissa’s eyes. “This is personal.” The door opened, disappearing into the wall as Drew slid an arm through that of the men and sauntered out.

* * * *

“What the hell did she mean by married?” Drew strode from the cockpit to the engine room, nose in the air like a hunting hound. “And why the fuck do I smell smoke?” Neither man answered, standing slightly apart and waiting. Drew threw her hands up. “You tricked me into marriage.”

“Yes,” Ash said.

“No.” Korm flushed and looked down. “You knew it was important. The bond was already there.”

“You tricked me.” She hissed, advancing with tears in her eyes. “Why?”

Ash raised a hand, then dropped it. “You were the one.” The simple answer and his eyes begged for her to understand. Drew didn’t. She wasn’t anyone’s anything.

“You just wanted out of an arranged marriage.” The truth fell from her lips, hard and painful. She turned away, walking in to the engine room. The stench of burnt crystal made her eyes water. “Damn, but you almost destroyed the ship,” she choked out.

Long elegant arms wrapped around her. “It’s fixed. Come back with us, Drew.”

Closing her eyes, she asked the question again. “Why? I’m not pretty, not important. Just a down-on-her-luck skid captain. Rough, tough, inside and out.”

A large roughened hand cupped her cheek. His thumb wiped away a stray tear. “Not so tough,” Korm whispered. “Perfect.”

“There’s only one woman for every kith pair.” Ash nuzzled his favourite spot in the crook of her neck. “The goddess Gaemae knew that her daughters were strong. So strong that only one was needed where two would do in the other races of man. So, to balance that she doubled the men borne to the kith, knowing that two would balance the one. Three stand strong where two would crumble.”

Drew sighed, tracing her fingers down the solid planes of Korm’s face. “How did you know to throw me a staff instead of the waerspic?”

He smiled, turning his cheek to nip at her fingers. “It’s my job.”

“And the fire?” She wanted to run her hands over the crystal barrels to check, even though she didn’t have a clue.

“That’s my job.” Ash reminded. “All done.”

“So what do I do?” A smile teased around her lips. Then she froze. “Shiv! I’ve got to go back for her.”

Korm cupped her face between his hands. “I have it on good authority that the draconi, Shiv, is well taken care of. My contact will arrange for her release after she’s well. Your job is to just say yes.”

“That’s it?” Drew laughed. “Say yes? To you?”

“To both of us,” Ash interrupted.

“Yes,” she sighed, sinking into the warmth and comfort of her men and her crew. Yes, she might be able to do this after all. “Yes. Then we’re off to Kisk-Q.”

Korm raised an eyebrow as she sashayed towards the cabins. “Still? What’s in Kisk-Q?”

Drew leaned around the corner, “Business. Now, how about something a bit more…personal?”

Epilogue

The cold ice cavern made a perfect lair, thought Mara Destris as she kept watch over her treasure. Beside the egg-shaped sapphire, her long slinky blue-green dragon body rested in the dark sleep, comfortable in the low temperature. She had slept so long that she no longer wanted to ride the seductive dreams and what-ifs. Mara wanted to wake, to warm her egg, stirring the life within. She wanted to fly with her mate, travel between worlds as their kind was meant to do.

Unfortunately, she did not know how. Waking was as elusive as the mate who’d abandoned her to return to his master. She sighed, drifting the circumference of her icy prison. Soon, Drew would return and attempt to wake her again. Mara’s confidence waned. What if she never woke? What if her egg remained here, frozen in the same half-life she led?

That couldn’t be. Drew would come and Mara would find a way to contact her this time. She’d come clean, telling her friend everything—even how to incubate the egg. Hanging on to her new resolve, Mara made another pass at her treasure. As long as she had hope, she had a chance at life.

About the Author

Buffi BeCraft writes Romantic Paranormal fantasy with a heavy dose of East Texas thrown in. Her first book was the result of a challenge. At the time Buffi was casting around, trying to come up with an idea for a book that was both marketable and fun to write. When her mother insisted that no one could write a paranormal she would be able to understand, the war was on. She wanted create a book that was easy for those uninitiated to the whole paranormal/fantasy genre to both understand and enjoy. Buffi is happy to say that her mother is now waiting anxiously for the next release.

Email: buffibecraft@ymail.com

Buffi BeCraft loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Buffi BeCraft

(previously writing as Buffi BeCraft-Woodall)

Conjuring Cal

TO BED A GODDESS

Lizzie Lynn Lee

Prologue

Temple of the Sun, Durgha

It all had been a sham.

The prophecy. The life she had been living. And tonight, when the Great Khan finally took her maidenhead, he would see who she really was. The High Priest Mamnon had told her numerous times her worries were unfounded. But Amaranth couldn’t shake the heavy weight on her shoulders. Some said the truth would set you free. But if Shanrakhan ever discovered the truth, the only thing that would be set free was her head from her neck.

Amaranth sat straight on the edge of the bed, her hands on her laps and her fingers laced together, intertwined in knots. Her nerves strung tight like an overstretched harp string ready to snap. As much as she tried to relax, she just couldn’t. She dreaded her fate, wishing she wasn’t a hetai, the chosen one. Born and bred to consort a ruthless man.

She exhaled a deep breath and caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror. The young woman in white regalia stared back accusingly.

Fraud.

Amaranth tore her gaze away. She couldn’t stand seeing the mask of lies she had been forced to put on all these years. Others might have revered her as the incarnation of the Sun God and bequeathed her with a pampered life since birth. But truth be told, she was nothing but the High Priest’s puppet.

Outside her room, people were still celebrating. The cacophonous music and the revelries of Shanrakhan’s warriors seeped through her windows. Once in a while, she heard loud shouts of the Great Khan himself, followed by thunderous laughter from his men, clapping and cajoling their overlord. The Khan was probably half-inebriated. Earlier, when Amaranth had peeked outside, she saw he was drinking endlessly while fondling two semi-naked wenches besides him. Amaranth wished he would pass out from the drinks. But it was highly unlikely. Shanrakhan was a man who could take his liquor. Besides, his prowess in bed was legendary. If she had been granted the luxury of her own choosing, she wouldn’t give her body to him and spend the rest of her life as his plaything. She craved true love.

From a man who would love her unconditionally…

Amaranth was startled when someone knocked at the door. It must be her maid. She’d asked for a glass of water while she waited for Shanrakhan. “Come in,” she said in a choked voice, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. Renegade tears streamed down her cheeks nevertheless. Amaranth quickly wiped them with her sleeves. She didn’t want anybody to see she was crying. After all, it was a joyous occasion for her people.

She failed to realise it wasn’t her maid who had knocked on the door. Several men stormed in and the next thing she knew, someone had sneaked behind her and covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Her dread turned to terror. She struggled but she was overpowered. The men who held her were far too strong.

Several faces emerged before her. Their expressions were cold. Solemn. Like anger masked in stone. She recognised one of them, Orion Thane, the High Priest’s Chief of Acolytes. Orion loathed her. He’d always shadowed her every move, and when no one was around, he had always watched her with such a look as if he knew her deepest secret.

“Please…” she begged him, her voice muffled by a man’s palm. “Don’t hurt me.”

Orion ignored her plea. He motioned to his men and a heartbeat later, Amaranth was hoisted from the bed and was flat on the floor. The men held her limbs to keep her still while Orion produced something from his sleeve. It looked like a giant nail with a long, sharp point, and the mark of the Sun God Hecave crowned the nail-head.

Her heart dropped to her guts.

The Star of Hecave. An ancient seal the Sun God Hecave himself had used to punish his wife. The holy sutra recited that Ariana, the Moon Goddess, had tried to usurp the Sun Throne, but her attempt was foiled. When Hecave learnt the truth, he pierced Ariana’s heart and cast her to sleep for a millennia. Hecave’s wrath sent five continents into a thousand years without nightfall. The realm was swallowed in drought and pestilence. People suffered until the legendary Crimson Knight stole the seal from Ariana’s tomb and hid it in the Sun Temple, preserving the nature balance back into the realm.

The Star of Hecave was the Sun Temple’s most prized possession. It was preserved deep beneath the temple’s catacombs. Only High Priest Mamnon and his predecessors knew where it was kept. No one else was allowed to look upon it, let alone touch it. But now Orion had stolen it.

What is he going to do with it?

Orion lifted his hand above his head, gripping the Star of Hecave as his men chanted some mantras. “Forgive me, my young goddess, but we cannot let the prophecy come true. The Khan must be stopped. He shall not unite the five continents.”

The hand that covered her mouth tightened, making her jaw hurt. So Orion hadn’t learnt the truth after all. The secret was safe. But what he was intending to do with that seal? Amaranth abandoned her struggle. It was a futile endeavour.

Orion narrowed his eyes, his lips thinning into a grim slit. The chants turned louder. “And you shall sleep. The Khan isn’t the right man for you. I know how much you loathe him. Who knows, when you wake up, perhaps you will find your true love…”

He slammed the seal into her chest, piercing her heart with the Star of Hecave.

A scream froze in Amaranth’s throat. Blazing white pain seized her momentarily. Then, an eerie numbness engulfed her being. The men let go of their grips. Amaranth struggled to breathe. The air felt thin. She heaved and thrashed.

Help me…help me…

She reached for them, begging for their help, but Orion and the men only watched her coldly. Her lungs felt like they had been filled with ice. Her heart slowed into a lazy beat. When she groped the source of her pain, she found that the blood from the wound had frozen into crystals.

I don’t want to die…

Darkness claimed her whole.

Chapter One

“Sir, we have a problem.”

Graeme Darin caught himself from correcting his former aide. There was no reason for Keiran to keep addressing him as sir. After all, he’d been stripped from his ranks and his honour. Up to seventy hours ago, he was a Rear Admiral in the Arcova Imperial Fleet with a bright future ahead of him. Now, he was a fugitive, running from the wrath of Queen Breanna. Perhaps old habits were hard to break, and Keiran Mohr was one of those people with a deep loyalty streak. “What kind of problem?” Graeme asked.

“The cargo, sir. It has the Imperial’s seals.”

“What cargo?” Nate, Graeme’s brother, interjected from the captain’s chair. He was piloting their stolen ship and had been setting their course to Sierra-Allyx when Keiran came into the bridge, reporting his findings. Nate looked perturbed. “This ship is scheduled to be decommissioned next month. We aren’t supposed to be carrying any cargo.”

“Well, we are.” Keiran turned to Graeme. “The container is almost big enough to fill the whole dock. What are we going to do about it, sir?”

Nate wasn’t convinced. “You’re shitting me, right?”

“I’m most certainly not,” Keiran bit back. “Do I look like I’m shitting you?” Irritation painted his face.

Graeme didn’t know how the two could conspire together. He hadn’t seen Nate in years. His brother had been practically a kid when Graeme left their homeland and joined the Imperial Fleet as a freshly minted lieutenant from the academy.

“Nate is all right,” his mother had said to him once. “He takes after your father’s good looks, and he adores you.”

About three hours ago, Graeme had been surprised when a young Imperial Officer who visited his cell turned out to be Nate. His mother was right. Nate has become the spitting image of their late father when he was young. He had grown into a slender, comely, sophisticated young man whose elegant demeanour could only come from years of refinement in the Royal Academy. But it all was a con. His mother had told him Nate was a rebellious youth. When his brother turned nineteen, Graeme heard that Nate had joined an ill-reputed trader and become a smuggler. Graeme didn’t expect the news of his imprisonment to reach Nate, but it had. And it compelled Nate to impersonate an Imperial Officer in order to bust him out of prison.

If Graeme was given a choice, he would have preferred to stay in his cell and face his trial like an honourable admiral of the Fleet should do. After all, he was innocent. The malicious persecution against him was nothing but the Second Queen Breanna’s tactic to bring him off to his heels. That wretched bitch had lusted over him from the moment Graeme was sworn in as the youngest admiral of the Fleet. When Graeme didn’t return her seductions, Queen Breanna threw him in jail for contempt. Graeme was sure the judge would clear his name. The evidence of contempt was laughably weak. When Graeme tried to convince Nate to leave, a prison guard spotted his brother’s fake credentials. Nate clonked the guard unconscious and everything went downhill from there. Graeme had no choice but to bust out of the prison with Nate.

After they made their escape, Nate rushed him to the Fleet stockyard. Graeme thought besides turning into a nutjob, Nate was also suicidal. No escapee in their right mind would make a daring escape then run straight to the lion’s mouth. But later on, Graeme had to admit Nate’s escape plan was a brilliant one. While the authority was busy turning the capital inside out looking for them, they were safely hiding in their own enemy’s turf. His brother had planned to steal one of the Imperial’s ships as a gateway vehicle to get out of the territory. Since every commercial and private ship in and out of the planet was closely monitored by the stationmaster, Nate thought it would be much safer if they stole an Imperial ship. The stationmaster didn’t regulate the Imperial Armada.

In the stockyard, Graeme was surprised to see Keiran Mohr and Brannan Shih waiting for them. They were his two aides from the Fleet. While Graeme was incarcerated, Queen Breanna did a housecleaning, firing those who stayed loyal to Graeme. He didn’t know exactly how Nate ended up recruiting Keiran and Brannan, but the three had hatched a daring escape plan that was so insane, it had to work.

“Settle down.” Graeme ordered Keiran and his brother to break off their argument. “The cargo you mentioned, what is it?”

“Brannan is working on it, Sir. He tried to open the container. The seal indicates it came from the archaeological department of the University of Durgha.”

Nate knitted his brows. “Why would someone smuggle artefacts from Durgha using an Imperial ship?”

Keiran’s face turned sour. “It’s Breanna’s doing, I’ll tell you. First, she poisoned the king and coveted the throne. Now she’s trying to rewrite history.”

Graeme decided to inspect the cargo dock. Whoever owned the cargo would want their goods back. And if that person happened to be someone who had a connection with the first family, their asses wouldn’t be out of the woods yet. They had planned to go as far as the Sierra-Allyx system, then ditch this stolen ship and replace it with a legitimate one in the Forbidden Zone. Traders, pirates, and outlaws populated the outer rings of Sierra-Allyx so Nate felt they would blend in well. His brother thought it was best for them if they kept a low profile for a while, staying away from the humdrum of the Imperial Arcova political arena.

Before he could step outside, someone beat him to it. Brannan Shih poked his head through the bridge’s entrance. “Sir, you have to see this,” he said urgently.

Suddenly, anxiety seized Graeme gut-deep. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like what Brannan had just discovered.

The stone coffin nestling inside the thick metal container looked as imposing as any relic from Durgha, the birthplace of the Imperial. It didn’t have intricate details like other royal tombs Graeme had seen as a boy during his school trip. Nevertheless, this one looked ancient and grand. But one thing that captured everybody’s attention was the body beneath the glass lid.

It was a woman’s body. Young and breathtakingly beautiful. She was so pale, she looked as if she had been carved from the pristine white stone herself.

Graeme peered closely at the glass surface. The streak from the glass obscured the woman’s beautiful face. Her hair was platinum white, arranged carefully around her head and cascading onto her shoulders. White lilies were placed all around her lifeless body. It seemed she was buried in white regalia that looked like her wedding gown.

Poor girl.

He examined all the sides looking for any indication as to who this coffin belonged to. The Romadjta dynasty, the founders of the Imperial Arcova, marked their royal tomb with some distinct glyphs. Herav for the kings. Lurva for the queens, and Amnteph for the prince and princess. This coffin bore nothing. The only mark etched at the base of the coffin was the symbol of the Sun Temple.

Graeme stooped, examining the chipped lid. The coffin had been opened before in haste by someone who apparently had no respect for its archaeological value. He gave it an exploratory push. Graeme was surprised to find that the coffin was colder than ice.

“Odd, isn’t it?” Brannan grimaced. “It’s almost like it’s made from frozen stone.”

Graeme blinked. Something had just dawned on him. “It couldn’t be…”

“What couldn’t be?” Nate asked, prodding the coffin then cringing when the chill singed his fingertips. “Shit. What the fuck is this?”

“I might be wrong, but this could be the Goddess’ tomb,” Graeme said.

“Say again?” Nate asked.

“Don’t you know the legend? Amaranth, the virgin Goddess? The night he conquered the five continents, Shanrakhan was supposed to claim her virginity to achieve immortality.”

Nate snorted. “Immortality, my ass. I heard that story. Didn’t he die choking on his own vomit later on?”

Keiran studied the coffin with great interest. “I’m not an Arcovian so I’m not familiar with your lore. What happened to the Goddess?”

“The enemies of the Great Khan killed her so the prophecy couldn’t be fulfilled,” Brannan said.

“Actually,” Graeme cut in, “legend said she was frozen to sleep. The Star of Hecave preserved her body in ice, making her tomb icy to touch. The rebels then hid her tomb somewhere in Mount Heron. There have been many expeditions since the King Jovan era to unearth Amaranth’s tomb. They all failed.”

“How curious,” Keiran commented. “Do you think this is the Goddess’ tomb, sir?”

“Only one way to find out.” Graeme looked around and found what he was looking for—an antigrav crowbar Brannan used to hack the container’s doors open. He slid the tip of the crowbar into the coffin’s lid and turned on the device. A mournful creak filled the dock. The heavy glass lid budged a couple of inches. Graeme shoved it open.

They all let out gasps. Expecting the unpleasant stench of something that had been dead a long time ago, Graeme was surprised to find the only smell coming from the woman’s coffin was the scent of lilies. A breeze of cold chill surged past them, making him shiver.

Without the obstruction from the glass lid, he could see the body clearly. Her beauty was beyond words. He inspected her up close. Her alabaster skin was flawless, matching the colour of her hair. She looked almost like an albino, but the dark, black lashes that surrounded her eyes betrayed that. The regal attire she was wearing was a proof she might come from nobility. Cradled in white lilies, the beauty looked as if she was just taking a nap. But when he noticed she was clutching something on her chest, he feared his suspicion was true.

“What are you doing?” Nate asked when Graeme pushed the woman’s hands from her chest. “You’re desecrating a dead person.”

Graeme ignored him. He sucked a hard breath when he found something lodged in her chest. “I’ll be damned.”

“What is that?” Nate wanted to know. He cringed afterward. “That’s sick. It’s a cruel way to die.”

“Legend said she didn’t really die. Killing a Goddess was considered a bad omen. The High Priest’s son pierced her heart with an amulet called the Star of Hecave. It’s said that the amulet froze her, putting her in suspended animation,” Graeme explained.

“Legend also said our great-great-great-grandfather was a two-legged goat bastard who consorted with a tavern wench. You shouldn’t really take everything from the folklore literally.”

Graeme felt intrigued. He knew his idea was fucking wrong, but hell, he was curious. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Nate gasped in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Gah. For a trouble-maker, his brother was such a wimp. Graeme fisted the five-star amulet and yanked it with all his might. Beneath the jewel, a long spike emerged from the woman’s chest, trailing droplets of blood that was way too peculiar to his find.

Dead bodies didn’t bleed.

“What the fuck…” Graeme mumbled, examining the dripping blood.

They all jumped when they heard a strained scream from the coffin. The woman’s body sprung back to life. Her eyes widened in terror as she thrashed, arms clawing out from her cold resting place for the last six thousand years. She finally grabbed the edge of her coffin and hoisted herself up to sit, one hand clutched where the amulet had pierced her heart. “Asharte…”

“Holy shit,” Nate said.

“No fucking way,” Keiran added.

Brannan didn’t utter anything. He simply backed up until he hit against the dock’s railing.

For a moment, Graeme didn’t know what to do. He was as shocked as the others. He didn’t think his crazy idea would actually work.

The woman coughed. Her body shivered uncontrollably. She turned at Graeme and pleaded, “Asharte…”

She talked in old merah, their native Dhurgan, the language rarely spoken in the Imperial anymore. Modern day Durghans abandoned it because the younger generations thought it wasn’t trendy enough. Old merah was considered a dead language. Graeme understood her just fine. Their father was an Imperial scholar—he had loved to drill Graeme and later, Nate, endless merah poetry when they were kids. Graeme shook himself out of his shock. He took off his jacket and draped it around her body. Gods. She was so damn cold. Wouldn’t she get hypothermia from this?

“Amya der,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

“Sibundene thinya. Where am I?”

“Ebavum et Scotavas. You’re safe.” Graeme nodded at Keiran, who was still flabbergasted with the whole scene. “She needs medical attention. Didn’t you go into a medic school before joining the Fleet?”

Nate clutched his hair, mumbling, “This is not happening.”

“I didn’t finish the second year. My family went bankrupt so I had to join the Fleet,” Keiran replied timidly.

“But you know basic medical procedure, right?” Graeme pressed.

“I mean, she was stiff! It’s impossible for a stiff to just come back to life!” Nate babbled.

“Yeah, I know the basics,” Keiran said.

“Then you need to help her,” Graeme urged.

“She’s a zombie!” Nate pointed out. “We should stick her back in her coffin before she eats our brains.”

“Shut up.” Graeme gave his brother a dirty look. “You’re a disgrace to any smuggler you ever joined with. Now, help me.”

Nate threw his hands up. “I’m not touching the zombie girl.”

“You’re hopeless,” Graeme muttered under his breath. He lifted the shivering woman and carried her in his arms. “Do we have a sickbay in this flying tin can?” he asked Keiran.

“I think so. It should be near the beacon chamber.”

“Show me.” Graeme turned to Nate. “You and Brannan check this container to see if it’s equipped with tracking devices. I wouldn’t put it past them, especially with cargo this important.”

“Why don’t we eject this whole thing into space? It saves us time,” Keiran suggested.

“I don’t think that’s wise. Least, not yet. We could use this cargo as leverage in case we’re tailed by the Armada.” Graeme noted Nate was still rooted where he was standing. “What are you waiting for?”

“Being a vigilante. She’s going to suck your blood when you’re not looking.”

“Idiot. That’s a vampire, not a zombie. Get to work!”

* * * *

Amaranth was confused. Scared out of her wits.

Everything looked odd. People talked strangely too. Except for the one man who comforted her. And now he took her to another room where all the wall surfaces were covered in metal. The place hummed with low vibrations she couldn’t really fathom. The whole building seemed to be alive. Moving.

Where am I? The last thing she remembered was Orion Thane trying to kill her. She groped her chest blindly. Did he really kill her? The sharp nail had gone through her chest. But it didn’t feel hurt any more. The pain had vanished.

The kind man deposited her on a shiny rectangular table and told her not to be afraid. He said his friend was going to examine her to see if she was all right. Amaranth turned to the other man. He had short yellow hair and a long face. His stature was slender as a knife. He seemed nice enough, but his eyes were painted with distrust. She had a feeling this man was wary of her.

He said something in a language she didn’t understand.

“Keiran wants you to show him your wound,” the kind man translated. “He wants to know if you’re hurting.”

She shook her head immediately. “I…I’m fine.”

“We just want to be sure,” the kind man pressed.

Amaranth reluctantly obeyed his request. She shrugged off her silk shawl and slid down the front of her low-cut gown, showing them where Orion Thane had pierced her heart. Two pairs of eyes watched her with scrutiny, but their expressions were indifferent. The yellow-haired man, Keiran, exchanged fast conversation with the kind man. Keiran then stalked to a nearby cupboard and started opening its doors and drawers, looking for something. He pulled out a small metal chest from one of the drawers. It appeared he had found what he wanted. He washed his hands in a deep basin then returned to the metal chest to sheathe his hands in something transparent and tight. Keiran plucked a strange implement from the chest and came to her. He pressed the implement against her exposed skin, poking and prodding around her wound.

Keiran and the kind man fell into a deep conversation. Amaranth wished she knew what they were talking about.

The kind man turned to her. “Keiran wants to examine you thoroughly. He doesn’t mean to disrespect you. Don’t worry. It will be over before you know it.”

Amaranth guessed she didn’t have a choice but to agree. She let Keiran listen to her pulse, peer into her eyes while lighting them with a bright light emitting from a cylindrical object. He checked the inside of her mouth and prodded around her abdomen. She was worried Keiran would insist on seeing her nether regions. Luckily, he didn’t. It seemed he was satisfied with what he saw. Keiran nodded and gave her a wan smile. The two men consulted each other.

The kind man explained to her. “It seems that you’re in perfect health. I don’t know how that’s possible, considering you’ve been sleeping in that coffin for the past six thousand years. Only a few minutes ago you had a puncture hole as big as pinkie finger, and now it’s healed perfectly. That’s a miracle.”

She gaped. Did he say she had been sleeping for six thousand years? He jests… “I think this must be a dire misunderstanding. I couldn’t have been sleeping for that long.”

“Your name’s Amaranth, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“You’re a hetai for the Sun Temple, aren’t you? You went missing the night Shanrakhan conquered the five continents.”

How did he know all of this? Amaranth narrowed her eyes, suspicion enshrouding her like a thick fog. “Are you the Khan’s minions?”

The kind man laughed unexpectedly. She didn’t see anything funny about it.

“Shanrakhan was dead a long, long time ago, Goddess. Welcome to the future.”

Future?

This has to be a jest. I’m in the future?

“My name is Graeme Darin, but you can call me Graeme,” the kind man introduced himself. “Are you hungry?”

Suddenly, Amaranth felt ravenous.

Chapter Two

The conversation stopped when Graeme entered the bridge. Keiran, Brannan and Nate were all huddled around a half-dismantled device on the floor, arguing. His brother lifted his head and grimaced.

“How’s the zombie girl?” Nate asked.

“What’s that?” Graeme ignored his question and pointed at the mangled scrap. For the last half hour, he’d been taking care of Amaranth. After Keiran finished examining her, Graeme had taken her to a private quarter, showing her how to use the lavatory, shower, and giving her food. He found some spare clothes that Nate had packed for him and he loaned them to her. They were too big, but they were better than the gown she was wearing. She might be as hale as ever, but after six thousand years trapped in a box, her clothes started to disintegrate the moment the glass lid was opened.

“It’s a tracking beacon,” Brannan answered. “It was planted at the base of the container. This was a set of two. We can’t disassemble the other one.”

“We must dump the cargo to be safe,” Nate added.

Graeme pondered it. “We’ll lose our leverage.”

“What are you talking about?” Nate frowned. “We have her. If she’s that important, they will do anything to get her back.”

“I’m not going to hand her over to anyone.”

“So, you’re going to keep her?”

“She needs our help.”

Nate stood up, dusting dirt from his hands. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re on the run. We can’t take care of someone like her. She belongs in the museum.”

Graeme glared at him.

“Or the Sun Temple. You forgot who she was. A Goddess. Right now, she should have the sissy priest and his worshippers tending to her every need.”

His brother had a point. But Amaranth looked human enough. She resembled a frightened child more than a divine being. Watching her like that had awakened his protective urge. All of a sudden, he wanted to comfort her and keep her away from anyone who might want to harm her.

Earlier, while he was busy showing her how to open the can of a ready-to-eat meal, she’d confessed she was scared. The people she knew had gone a long time ago and she didn’t have anybody she could go to. Graeme told her not to worry—he’d protect her. Amaranth took his hands and kissed them, thanking him while she watched him with her big blue eyes. Graeme couldn’t recall what had compelled his action, but the next thing he knew, his arms were wrapped tightly around her delicate body, promising that he’d always be there for her.

It was nuts. Good lord. What the hell is wrong with me?

Graeme had never thrown himself at someone else’s feet. Nor made promises he knew would be hell to keep. He didn’t know what had overcome him. Maybe because she was such a pretty little thing. Maybe it was her divine power. Or the way she looked at him. One gaze and he got lost in her eyes. He tried to discern his sudden feelings on the way to the bridge. It wasn’t just lust, but something else, something more powerful. The feeling was so strong, he knew he’d go mad if he had to part from her.

Insane.

“True, we’re in no condition to drag along someone like her,” Graeme agreed, “but I’ve made a promise I’ll protect her. And I intend to keep it.”

Nate narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you just want to sample a divine pussy.”

“You have a problem with that?” Graeme snapped back, irritated.

His brother threw his hands up theatrically. “Hey, I’m cool.” He nudged Keiran, who stood next to him and threw a conspiratory grin. “I take it he didn’t get laid often while he was in the Fleet?”

“Nope,” Keiran answered him straight-faced.

“Was he popular with the ladies at all?”

“Oh, yeah. But your brother is very picky.”

“If you two are done gossiping about me while I’m standing over here, I’d like to discuss something more important.” Graeme stalked towards the helm of the ship. “We need to set a new route.”

* * * *

Amaranth pressed her face against the glass of the viewport, unable to believe what she was seeing. The stars. The constellations. The heavens from up close. She had never imagined men had the capability of flying like a bird, let alone inventing some ingenious machinery that allowed them to travel far beyond the stars where the Gods reside. She surely had missed a lot during her six thousand years of slumber. One second she thought Orion Thane was murdering her, the next thing she knew she was in the future.

Future.

The sound of it scared her. The reality of it unnerved her. Everything in the future was so…advanced. For the past few hours, Amaranth had investigated all the nooks and crannies on her quarter. She was deeply impressed with how clever the chamber door was. It slid open magically when she stepped near to it as if a pair of invisible servants was standing by.

And that wasn’t all.

The bath chamber was also curiously neat. When she stood and waved a hand under the circular metal plate, it poured water as if it was showering rain. Amaranth had her fun discovering new things. The chamber pot that emptied itself. The food package that also reheated itself. An entertainment centre called holo-TV. A musical singing box. And a delicious treat called ice cream. But one thing that blew her mind was when she looked outside the viewport and saw the stars up close. Graeme had said they were currently travelling between the star systems, but it didn’t occur to her what he meant until she saw what was outside the window. Amaranth had travelled across the sea with giant ships before, but she had never travelled in a vessel that could carry her across the deep sky.

The future was fascinating.

The people were also fascinating. Amaranth hadn’t met any women in this vessel, but from what she’d seen so far, men were a lot taller and better looking in the future. They wore their hair very short and their appearances were well-kempt. The kind man who spoke her language, Graeme Darin, was also the most good-looking one. His hair looked like the sand dune and his eyes were light grey, like finely tempered steel. But there was no coldness in his eyes. One look and she knew she could trust her life with him. When she felt confused and scared earlier, unexpectedly, he comforted her in his arms. Amaranth had never felt more protected in her life. Even the High Priest Mamnon with his powers and influences couldn’t make her feel that secure before.

Amaranth tore her eyes from the viewport and clutched her burning cheeks. She’d just remembered what Orion Thane had said shortly before he staked her heart with the Star of Hecave. “When you wake up, perhaps you will find your true love.”

She released her breath and groped where the amulet had pierced her. Her heart was beating faster, accompanied with a pleasant rush that surged through her veins. What is this? A strange euphoric feeling radiated from every fibre of her being, overwhelming her.

Is this love? Truly?

Whatever it is, it’s delightful…

“Amaranth.”

She jumped, startled. Graeme stood in front of the chamber’s door. His tall stature almost touched the frame. Heat warmed her cheeks instantaneously.

“You okay?”

“I…I’m fine.”

Graeme stepped in. He carried a box in his hands. “I was looking for a pair of shoes for you, but I couldn’t find any that would fit. The men’s boots were way too big for you.”

Amaranth looked at her feet. They were bare. She hadn’t been buried with her shoes. “I’m fine, thank you. They didn’t allow foot covering in the temple, so I’m accustomed to this way.”

“Yeah, but not in a starship. You’ll get cold if you have bare feet.” Graeme opened the box and extracted a ball of black woollen socks. “Let’s try these on. We don’t want you to get sick, don’t we?”

“I…”

He knelt down and told her to hold onto the wall. Amaranth was perplexed when he grabbed her leg and slipped one sock on her foot. The thick sock came to her knee, warming her foot in an instant.

“Thank you. But I can manage this one by myself.” Amaranth tried to reach the other sock.

“Shh. Be still.” He worked on her other foot. “There. Much better?”

Heat seared her face. A respectable man didn’t lower himself to trivial chores in front of a woman. Not unless he was a servant. Graeme did it because he cared for her. Somehow, what he did make her feel special.

“Thank you. You don’t have to this.”

“But I wanted to. Are you hungry? We’re about to have dinner in the galley, and I thought you should meet the rest of my crew. Actually, you met them, but I bet you were too shocked earlier.”

She didn’t expect his invitation. From where she came from, the custom forbade women to dine with men who weren’t their husbands or immediate family. Even then, not many husbands felt keen having their wives at the same table. A woman’s rightful place was in the kitchen, raising children, and to be ready in bed whenever her man needed her. She guessed a lot had changed over the millennia. Amaranth inclined her head. “I’d be honoured.”

“Great. But you have to pardon what we have, though. Instant food. It’s not so great, but it’s filling.”

“Your food is delicious and I’m thankful for the nourishment you kindly gave me.”

Graeme watched her inquisitively. A smile blossomed on his handsome face. Amaranth’s heart skipped a beat. The strange euphoric rush returned.

How curious. I’m content whenever he’s nearby. It feels like nothing else matters if I can be with him.

Compelled by her discovery, Amaranth reached for his hand and held it. The euphoric emotion rushed through her thousandfold, making her giddy. As a  hetai of the Sun Temple, High Priest Mamnon had raised her in seclusion, away from prying eyes. She’d never known the wondrous feeling of being smitten with a man. This new experience awed her.

Graeme squeezed her back and held her tightly. “Let’s go, shall we?”

She didn’t want to let go of his hand ever again.

* * * *

The galley Graeme had mentioned turned out to be a kitchen. Unlike any kitchen she’d ever seen, this one looked so highly polished and clean, one could eat right from the counter. Apparently, in the future people didn’t cook with wood burning stoves anymore. Machineries had replaced everything.

The men’s attention fixed on her when Graeme tugged her towards the dining table. She knew Keiran the healer, the man with the short yellow hair. The other two were unknown.

Graeme introduced her to a young scrawny man with the same hair colour and eyes as himself. He looked uncannily like a younger version of Graeme. The mystery unravelled when Graeme introduced the youth as his brother.

“Nate talks without thinking most of the time, so don’t mind what he says,” Graeme said. He gestured to the black-haired man who sat next to the healer Keiran. “And this is Brannan Shih. He used to be my communications officer in the Fleet. Now he’s my partner in crime.”

Amaranth didn’t understand the phrase ‘partner in crime’ so she asked.

To her surprise, Nate answered in near-fluent merah. “Graeme is a fugitive. My brother used to be an admiral in the Fleet until he was falsely prosecuted and sent to prison. If we hadn’t broken him out of his cell, he probably would have been executed. That’s why we’re all partners in crime. We’re wanted by the Imperial.”

Graeme was a fugitive? And falsely prosecuted, too? Amaranth hadn’t expected that. It surely explained the ship’s small crew and the way they carried themselves. Their demeanour radiated secrecy.

“Why would someone accuse you of a crime you didn’t commit? It’s injustice,” she said.

“Our queen lusted over my brother and he rejected her. She sent him to prison as punishment. Simple as that.” Nate leered at her devilishly. “So, my virgin Goddess, is it true whoever claimed your maidenhead would be granted immortality?”

“Nate!” Graeme barked. “Don’t listen to him.” He pulled a chair for her and motioned her to sit.

Amaranth obeyed him in silence. After six thousand years, why did people still remember Mamnon’s lies? Caught in the splendour of the new world, she hadn’t asked Graeme about what happened to the Great Khan. Everyone she knew had perished a long time ago and she thought the past was better left at that.

She swallowed hard and replied meekly, “No. It’s a lie and I’m a sham.”

Graeme was carrying a plate of food when she answered. He paused. “A sham?”

She nodded. “I’m not a reincarnation of the Sun God. High Priest Mamnon fabricated the prophecy and the lies to curry favour from Shanrakhan. I don’t have divine power, nor will taking my virginity render a man immortal. Forgive me.”

Nate looked stunned for a moment. When Keiran and Brannan asked what happened, he quickly translated it for them. The two men stared at her with their mouths wide open.

“What about your white hair and your skin? And the birthmark you were born with? Wasn’t that a mark of a hetai?” Graeme asked. He put the plate down and sat next to her.

Amaranth felt the red mark etched on the base of her throat. “Mamnon branded this as soon as I was born. To fool the Khan.”

“You’re just an ordinary woman?” Nate seemed like he didn’t want to believe it. “Our mother used to pray at your shrine when she was a little girl. She believed you granted maidens respectable future husbands.”

“I have a shrine?”

“Hundreds of them. You’re quite a popular deity after the Sun God himself.”

She shook her head. “But I’m a fraud…”

“This is why I don’t like history, unlike my brother here. History’s overrated.” Nate grinned while he demolished the rest of his food.

Graeme gave her a spoon. “If I may ask, what happened the night of the claiming?”

Amaranth was startled. “Orion Thane wanted to spoil the prophecy. He didn’t know it was a sham anyway. That night, I was waiting for the Khan when he came to kill me—I thought he was trying to kill me. I didn’t know what he did would make me sleep for thousands of years.”

“Orion Thane?” Graeme furrowed his lush eyebrows. “I thought it was the High Priest’s son, Mameth, who kidnapped you.”

“Orion Thane was the Chief of Acolytes. He was rumoured to be Mamnon’s illegitimate son. I know no one by the name Mameth.”

Graeme snorted. “History is interesting when you get the chance to ask the story straight from the horse’s mouth.”

“Horse’s mouth?”

“It’s just a silly expression.” Graeme waved uncaringly. “Eat your food before it gets cold.”

Amaranth lifted her spoon and paused. “What happened to Shanrakhan after I was gone?”

Nate snorted. “He died.”

“He was assassinated?”

“Nah. He drank too much—he choked on his own vomit.”

She cringed.

“Nate!” Graeme warned him, then barked in the other language. He nodded at her. “Eat. You need it for your strength.”

Amaranth ate in silence while digesting what she had learnt so far. However, one thing still nagged at the back of her mind. “I…” she began

The men stopped eating.

“How did my tomb end up in your possession?”

The brothers traded gazes. Graeme answered. “Nate stole this ship that belongs to the Imperial. We didn’t expect to find a container with you in it in the cargo bay.”

“The Imperial?”

“Imperial of Arcova. The Romadjta dynasty. Shanrakhan might have united the five continents, but he didn’t live long enough to enjoy his kingship. After he died, his brother Jovan took over the throne and founded Arcova.”

“Jovan became a king?” Amaranth remembered Shanrakhan’s half-brother, having seen him in on a couple of occasions. While Shanrakhan was huge, hairy, and a crass brute, Jovan was the exact opposite. Jovan was slender, polite, cultured and intelligent. Even Mamnon liked him, though he kept it mostly to himself. Jovan didn’t have ambition to rule, therefore Mamnon didn’t bother to curry his favour.

“Yes. Shanrakhan’s sons opposed it,” Graeme said. “Since the majority of Shanrakhan’s followers were the Sun God’s worshippers, his sons lost favour when the Sun Temple gave their blessings to Jovan. Many switched loyalty to Jovan because Shanrakhan failed to fulfil the prophecy.”

Knowing how sly Mamnon was, she wouldn’t put it past him that he had planned this from the very beginning. Shanrakhan might have been easy to control with promises and flatteries, but one wouldn’t expect to live long enough after he concocted such elaborate lies. Beheading men was Shanrakhan’s favourite sport. If Shanrakhan had bedded her that night, he would have found out the prophecy Mamnon had fed him for twenty-one years was nothing but lies. Amaranth bet that Mamnon had something to do with Shanrakhan’s death.

Still, something didn’t quite add up.

“Why would Jovan’s descendants try to find me? Wouldn’t it be better if I was left forgotten? Because of my absence, Jovan became a king.”

Nate answered this time. “There had always been feuds between the royal members. Shanrakhan’s descendants were always looking for ways to discredit our line of kings. Recently, there has been a succession. Our king was dead and the Crown Prince was in exile. We have our speculations that the king’s second queen framed the Crown Prince to gain the throne. The Queen came from Shanrakhan’s direct descendants. We have a feeling that they excavated your tomb because they still believed in the prophecy. Queen Breanna has a cousin who was been championed for the throne. If you were brought alive again, and Breanna’s cousin, Dzon, were to reach immortality by claiming your virginity, the Crown Prince would be annulled from his rights and have to surrender his claim to the Imperial throne.”

Amaranth dropped her spoon on the table. “But I’m a fraud. I don’t wish to be a pawn anymore.”

“We know that,” Graeme said. He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry. As long as you’re with us, you’re safe.”

Somehow, his reassurance didn’t appease her worry. Her long sleep hadn’t distanced her from Mamnon’s web of lies.

The past still came to haunt her and she was afraid there’d be no escape from it this time.

Chapter Three

“May I come in?”

Graeme turned to the owner of the voice and saw Amaranth standing timidly by the bridge’s door. He waved her in. Graeme had taken over Nate’s shift piloting the ship. He was poring over the chart and failed to realise she had come to see him.

“What’s the matter? You need something?” he asked.

Amaranth shook her head. “I need a word with you if you could spare a moment.”

“Sure.” Graeme pulled up a nearby chair and gestured her to sit. “What’s on your mind?’

“I…” She sat timidly and folded her hands on her lap. “I haven’t offered you my heartfelt thanks for saving me.”

“You don’t need to, but you’re welcome.”

Her big doe eyes gazed directly at him. Graeme was mesmerised by them for long seconds. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes. They were sapphire blue, sparkled brightly, and framed by lush, raven lashes. True albinos usually had red eyes and white hair thanks to their lack of pigmentation.

“I wish to ask what you are planning to do with me.”

“If you’re worried that I might hand you over to the Imperial, don’t be. I have no intention to do so. You’ll be safe with us. Once we reach our destination, you’re more than welcome to stay with us until you figure out what you want to do.”

“Oh.” She looked relieved. “How can I ever repay your kindness?”

“You don’t have to. Watching you safe and sound is enough for me.”

“I…” Amaranth hesitated. “I would like to offer my service for everything you have done for me. As a hetai, I was thoroughly trained in pillow art. I haven’t yet had to employ it, but I know the basics. Mamnon’s instructor made sure I memorised all my lessons so I’m sure I wouldn’t disappoint.”

For a moment, Graeme thought he’d misheard her. Did she just offer sex as payment? Good lord. “I’m flattered, but it won’t be necessary. I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do.”

She pondered over his words. “Do I repulse you? Are you not pleased with the way I look?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. You’re a very beautiful woman. Just ask anybody and they’d agree with me.”

“Then is it because I’m inexperienced?” She rose from her seat and knelt in front of him. “If you allow me, let me demonstrate my skills. I’m sure you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

“Amaranth.” Graeme caught her hands. He laughed nervously as her touch made him hard instantly. Hot damn. “I don’t need to be pleasured. But thank you. I’m deeply honoured, but this isn’t necessary. I didn’t help you because I’m expecting this.”

“No?”

“Hell no.”

“I feel an unbearable joy whenever I’m in your presence, and I’ve never had this kind of feeling towards any man before. Would you not, at least, allow me to show you a token of gratitude?”

Graeme’s jaw slackened. He’d been approached by many women before, but never one so candid and damnably innocent. Not that he minded her affections, though. He just hated to admit that he lusted over her since he had promised to protect her. As her protector, he should be focusing his energy on her well-being, not getting in her pants. He felt like a dick each time he entertained his dirty thoughts. “That would be wrong.”

Her eyes rounded. “How so?”

“Because you’re pure and a maiden doesn’t do those things.”

“I’m not pure. I’m just a sham.”

“Listen, Amaranth, why don’t you go to your cabin and have some rest? We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” Graeme urged her to stand. She obeyed without a peep. “You can find the way to your cabin, right? I’m piloting this ship. I can’t leave my post.” Graeme made an excuse. He didn’t want her to see he had a raging erection. He was secretly relieved that his jacket covered most of his crotch.

She nodded. “I…”

“Is there something else?”

Amaranth smiled prettily and it brightened everything like sunshine on the dullest day. His cock throbbed under his pants, cursing his decision about being a prude. She slipped a hand inside his jacket and grabbed his collar. Slowly, Amaranth pulled him closer.

She kissed him gently. A mere brush, at first. When he didn’t object, she gave him a light kiss. It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever experienced. A brimstone of lust engulfed him in one smooth sweep.

Graeme was lost.

The next thing he knew, he’d slipped his hand on her nape, anchoring her to stay still while he returned the kiss with fervour. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t.

The blare of an alarm prompted him to stop.

What the hell…

The navigation’s screens flickered alive and informed him they were being approached by several unknown ships.

The Imperial Armada had found them.

* * * *

Nate was in his shorts when he ran onto the bridge. Graeme had disengaged the autopilot and was steering the ship in full hyper-drive mode, flying in FTL speed towards the Forbidden Zone. He ordered Amaranth to sit in one of the chairs and be still. Keiran and Brannan hurried onto the bridge seconds after Nate and resumed their positions. Brannan manned the communication console and Keiran was in navigation. Graeme traded seats with Nate. His brother was a genius when it came to piloting a ship.

Nate threw a cursory glance at Amaranth and snickered. “What’s she doing here?”

“None of your business,” Graeme barked. “Focus on your job.”

Nate flicked a few switches on the console and took the wheel. “Ah.” He snapped his fingers and drawled in an annoying sing-song voice, “I know what you two were doing.”

Graeme’s jaw twitched.

“You two were going to do it, but you got interrupted. How unfortunate.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“I mean, when was the last time you got laid? No wonder you’re so stiff and tense. No pun intended.”

Graeme placed his hand on Nate’s head and growled. “Make one more joke and I swear to tell Mother that she has one less son.”

“Ah shit!” Nate turned serious. “Brace yourself.”

Graeme grabbed the headrest of the captain’s seat. The ship shook as they took a few hits from the Imperial Armada. He heard Amaranth’s soft whimpers and saw her clutching the armrest tightly. She looked utterly frightened.

“Keiran! What’s your status?”

“We have five class-A scouts on our tail, sir. It seems they have been ordered not to use lethal forces, sir. They’re toying.”

Neutralise and board mission. Graeme had led that kind of mission several times during his career. Their stolen ship wasn’t equipped with any weaponry to fight back since she was scheduled to be decommissioned. The only thing they could do was run. And it better be a damn good one since this ship was old and those scouts on their tail had much faster ships. There was one way to make it out of this situation alive. And it needed a crazy stunt to pull it off…

“Nate, how good are you navigating through the third rings of Sierra-Allyx?” he asked.

“How suicidal are you? I scored eighty per cent success on the simulations.”

“Good enough for me. I want you to stay on course and raise the engine capacity about twenty per cent. Once we pass Ghadir’s moons, we blast in full ship into the third ring.”

“You do know we might not survive if we do this, right?” Nate asked rhetorically.

“You have a better idea?”

“Nope. I like the daring and dangerous plan the best.” Nate grinned from ear to ear. “It’s sad that these idiots can’t wait for another hour to catch up with us. Don’t they know my brother doesn’t get laid too often?”

Graeme fought an unbearable urge to smack Nate. He couldn’t do it now, however. “If we make it out of this alive, please remind me to kill my brother.”

Keiran snorted hard.

* * * *

The Forbidden Zone was beautiful to look upon from the outer rings of Sierra-Allyx. When Graeme was a boy, he had spent countless night gazing upon the stars with the powerful telescope his father had given him for his birthday. He dreamed one day he’d join the Fleet and travel into deep space. On his twenty-fourth birthday, his dream became reality when he graduated from the Academy and was commissioned into the Fleet as a first lieutenant.

Of course, up close, the Forbidden Zone wasn’t as impressive as when he had watched it from half a star system away since it was made from a cluster of asteroids with a few terraformed planets. The asteroids reflected the rings of Sierra-Allyx, which consisted of ice and dust particles making spectacular light shows that Graeme never get bored of watching. This time, he could see them until the end of his days. According to his calculations, that would be exactly twenty days, seven hours, and thirty-nine minutes worth of the ship’s oxygen supply.

Their daring stunt had worked.

Their narrow escape from the Imperial Armada had come with a terrible price. When they had utilised the full resources of the ship, the main thruster of the engine had broken down. And without it, the ship was as good as dead. No electricity to be generated. No filtering oxygen. No water.

After inspecting damages on the ship and assessing their dire situation, Graeme decided to stay in the ship and send Nate, Keiran and Brannan away in the only operational rescue pod.

The pod itself was designed to accommodate only three adults. Its oxygen supply would last about a week. But if Graeme sent Amaranth with them and used the Star of Hecave to keep her in suspended animation, they would have a great chance of survival. Once the rescue pod entered the inner ring of Sierra-Allyx, they were bound to be picked up by the Fleet patrol.

Graeme hadn’t broken the news to others. He planned to sleep on it until tomorrow. Nate would reject his plan out loud, but he intended to do it no matter what. Nate and his two former aides had risked their lives to save him.

It wasn’t fair if they had to die in the end.

The door of his cabin whispered open. Amaranth strode in uninvited.

“Why I do have a feeling you’re going to do something incredibly foolish?” she demanded. Her eyes sparkled more than usual while a rosy blush tinged her porcelain cheeks.

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about? Oh, you’re upset.” He wanted to stroke her hair, but she snatched his hand midway. Graeme was amused. She looked prettier when she was mad.

“I forgot to tell you, when we kissed, we bonded.”

“Bonded?” Graeme echoed.

“I channel your feelings. Your desires. It was part of the pillow art I was trained to do. I was supposed to bond with my overlord, so I could be ready whenever he needed me.”

Bonding. Good lord. Was it the same as imprinting? Graeme had heard some colonies in the New Terran adopted the same principle when it came to mating. He hadn’t guessed Amaranth possessed the same capability.

“My heart hurt just a few moments ago. And I was plagued with feelings that you’re planning to leave me.”

Ah shit. Graeme quickly pulled her into his arms so she wouldn’t see his guilty face. “You worry too much. You must have been shocked from the whole ordeal.”

Amaranth squirmed. “I know you’re lying.”

Crap. Graeme hugged her tighter. The guilt was so great he didn’t know what to say.

“May we have that conversation now?” she squeaked.

Graeme slowly released her.

“I don’t wish to be apart from you. Don’t send me away.”

He sighed. “We don’t know that yet. I haven’t decided it.”

“But you were thinking about it. Strongly.”

“I would do it for your own good. Please understand.”

“I want to stay.”

“Amaranth…”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “What’s the point in living if I can’t be with you?”

“It hasn’t been decided. Maybe something will come out.” Graeme hated to make her upset. He wiped her tears with the back of his hand. “Don’t cry. It breaks my heart when you do this. Now. Are you hungry?”

“Why do you always assume I’m hungry?”

Graeme scratched his head even though he wasn’t itchy. “Food always makes me feel better. I’m sorry. I’m not good at comforting a woman. I don’t date very often.”

Amaranth sighed. “You hopeless beast.”

She tiptoed and curled her arms around his neck. Her lips found him. A jolt of high octane rush surged through his veins. Gods. Graeme slid his tongue and pried open her mouth, devouring her in an endless thirst. Her body trembled in his arms. Her skin fevered with fierce heat.

She stopped the kiss. “Now, would you allow me to show you my token of gratitude?”

A groan escaped him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her. Despite who she really was, Amaranth was one sweet morsel of delight no sane man could resist. All she needed to do was touch him and he went hard in a heartbeat.

Usually, Graeme didn’t let his testicles do the thinking. Self-control was his best virtue. But each time Amaranth was within his reach, Graeme felt his defences slipping away. He wanted her.

Bad.

The urge overpowered him like the call of a tempestuous siren. His cock hardened to the point it hurt. His balls swelled and pressed against the zipper. Every fibre of his being yearned for her…

He caressed her cheek. Thumb brushed over her lips. “Yes.” His voice was hoarse. He made up his mind. Amaranth would be his. He was going to claim her. Nothing else mattered.

Graeme sat at the edge of the bunk. A low gasp escaped from her throat when Graeme curled one arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Her lips found his, continuing what he’d started. Graeme assaulted her back. Kissing. Nipping. Tasting every inch of her skin he could get his hands on. He’d never been this ravenous about someone before in his life.

He slid his hands under her loose-fitting shirt. Felt her breasts. Squeezed them. He was surprised to find them incredibly soft, filling his palms perfectly. With a strained growl, he unbuttoned her shirt and yanked it off her shoulders.

Gods. She was so perfect. Alabaster skin. Voluptuous breasts topped with mouth-watering pink nipples. Instinctively, Graeme took one in his mouth and sucked it hard.

“Oh!” she squealed. Her chest heaved. Hands fisted his hair.

Graeme deepened his sucks, trapping the hard bud between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. She shook like a windblown leaf. Her fingers tightened, clenching his hair. Nails scraped his scalp. But Graeme barely felt it. Lust had consumed him whole. She would be his.

She would.

* * * *

The intensity of the pleasure shocked her. Truly. She’d never imagined being loved like this could be so addicting.

I feel this way because he’s the perfect man.

Her man.

She’d been trained to pleasure a man in every possible way. She loathed her trainings, however. The thought of giving her body to the Great Khan had always made her feel ill. But Graeme was different. When she had opened her eyes for the very first time after her long slumber, she knew he was the one. Graeme Darin owned the other part of her soul.

He was her soul mate.

Amaranth flinched when he released her nipple and took her unmolested one into his mouth. Fervent heat of pure delight enshrouded her again. She clawed his scalp. Her spine kinked in pleasure with each deep, mind-muddying suck. His hot mouth felt so sinful. And his tongue… Oh my stars. The way he twirled the tip around her super-sensitive peak made her lose her mind. She heaved, inhaling a lungful of breath. Her toes curled from the sensation. Her pussy clenched and moistened. Before long, she found herself utterly wet.

Graeme felt her all over. One hand squeezed her buttocks. The other found the source of her maddening ache. Her wetness had seeped through the fabric of the pants he’d loaned her. He made a delighted noise and let go of her nipple.

“Goddess, you’re wet,” he remarked.

Heat burnt her cheeks. He made her this way…

“I love it,” he added. His eyes shone brighter than before. Fire flickered in his eyes. “Let’s take this off.”

Graeme lifted her from his lap and put her on the mattress before the order could sink into her brain. He hastily unbuckled her belt that held her oversized pants. His hands trembled as he slid down the zipper. Graeme smiled and stole a kiss from her as he yanked down her pants. They fell to her ankles before he tugged them off as if they were his number one enemy. Amaranth wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning with delight.

Then she felt him. Hand on her wet mound. She stopped kissing him. Graeme rubbed her pussy lips. His fingers felt rough. But so welcome. He carefully parted her nether lips and slid a finger into her dewy centre.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Too much?”

“No.” She bit her lip. Her pussy clenched from the intrusion. “Please…”

He pushed another inch. Her cunt tightened around his finger. “So tight…” he murmured. He rubbed her. Gently.

Amaranth quivered. “I…”

He hissed through his teeth, pushing the rest of his finger until the pad of his palm pressed against her vulva. She gasped for more air.

“You okay?” He sounded worried.

“It’s just…” She blushed. “It’s good.”

“Oh, babe.” Graeme nibbled her lip. “You had me worried for a second. I just want to make you feel good. Only pleasure.”

Only pleasure. The words caused a shiver down her spine. Trained just to pleasure her overlord, she hadn’t expected to receive pleasure back. It was a wondrous feeling. Being loved intimately. Being pleasured.

Graeme petted her with steady strokes. Shards of pleasure turned into full-blown ecstasy. The way his finger rubbed against the walls of her vagina. The way he murmured his praise for being so responsive. Her heart pounded hard. Her breath laboured. She still couldn’t believe how good he made her feel. Especially when he curved his finger upward and hit a special spot.

Her mouth gaped open. The pleasure hurled back tenfold. “Graeme!”

“Shh…” he cooed to her. “Relax. Don’t resist. Only pleasure, remember?”

She stiffened. Graeme quickened his strokes until she felt lightheaded. His finger, slicked with her cream, felt like silk inside her. Each stroke was so precise hitting her pleasure spot, tethering her to the edge of coming. She fidgeted when his other hand left her breast and found her clit. He plucked it hard and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

The shockwave of pleasure washed over her. Her pussy fluttered around his finger. Her body tensed. She fisted a handful of his hair and plastered her mouth over his, kissing him greedily. Graeme devoured her back ravenously as his finger fucked her faster and faster…

Then it hit her. She opened her mouth and shouted. The pleasure was so volatile it ripped her world from its seams. Fireworks sparked before her eyes. Exquisite ecstasy swept her in one unforgiving surge, leaving her breathless and mindless in its path. Her pussy clasped his digit, squeezing it tightly at the height of her rapture.

“Fuck,” he cursed, breathing on the side of her cheek. “Baby, you’re so hot.”

It took her a second to digest what he meant. Graeme withdrew his finger. She noticed that his palm was bathed in her juice.

Amaranth was flustered. “I…”

“Open,” he ordered. His voice was curt and impatient.

She was startled when Graeme pushed her legs apart, baring her privates for him to see. Apparently, she didn’t follow his instruction fast enough for his liking.

His eyes feasted on the sight of her pussy. “So pretty,” he said, his voice dripping with desire. He stroked her swollen lips playfully. She moaned. What he did incited a new fire within her.

Graeme’s gaze skittered from her sex then met her eyes. “Mine?”

She nodded furiously.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she croaked. She’d vowed to never surrender herself to any man but him. The one and only.

“Mine, then.” His eyes looked predatory. He lowered his head and flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue.

She drew a lungful of air. Heaven. A bolt of pure ecstasy seared through her, leaving her wide-eyed from the intensity. She clawed his back. Lost for words. Lost any thought…

“Mmm,” he purred. A mischievous smile hovered on the corner of his lips. “You tasted even better than I imagined.”

Seconds later, her scream froze in her throat when Graeme licked the seam of her pussy lips. The flat of his tongue dragged lazily from her perineum to her aching clit. But that wasn’t all. With a feral growl, he captured her nub and sucked her deeply the way he had sucked her nipples.

Amaranth closed her thighs and tried to push him away. But what she did only made him more excited. He growled from her pussy. She thought he said, “Mine.” She gasped and moaned deliriously as a kaleidoscope of pleasure painted before her eyes. Liquid fire scalded her sex, incinerating her very soul. “Graeme, please…”

He only replied with another triumphant growl. Amaranth shuddered in ecstasy. She threaded her fingers around his hair and sank her nails on his scalp. Her back arched with his every suckle. Graeme teased her clit with his teeth and tongue. Grazing it. Nibbling it. Circling it with his tongue tip. Her heart pounded in her throat. If he kept doing this, she didn’t know how she could stay sane. The delicious torture was more than she could handle.

Graeme paused. She drew a relieved breath. But it didn’t last long. He licked her again. His tongue speared into her entrance, licking her deeper and deeper…

Amaranth shut her eyes and bit her lip to prevent herself screaming. She didn’t want the others to hear her screaming mindlessly. The pleasure was mind-blowing. She cried. Her body went rigid as he fucked her with his tongue. She thought his finger was exquisite, but his tongue…

She thought she was losing her mind.

She thought she was dying from the overtaxing pleasure.

Another climax ambushed her unexpectedly. Harder than before. She just had to scream as waves of pure pleasure rippled throughout her body. Her body shook as her mind drifted to oblivion. When she floated back to reality, she found Graeme smiling. He had been watching her drown in ecstasy.

“Good?” he inquired.

She nodded like a loon.

Graeme looked pleased. He stood and shrugged off his jacket. “Gonna make you mine, babe.”

Amaranth knew what was coming. She was thrilled. Finally. He would claim her whole. She watched him undress. One by one, his clothes fell near his boots. He was one beautiful man. Refined features. Glorious muscles underneath his tanned skin. He was so perfect, she’d never get bored of watching him.

He kicked his boots off and shed his pants. Her heartbeat accelerated. She found herself shivering in anticipation. Especially when he pulled down his briefs to his ankles. His cock bobbed free. Amaranth swallowed hard. He was as beautiful as the rest of him. His cock was big, long and hard. Her mouth suddenly watered.

Graeme kicked off his briefs and stroked his cock. “Last call,” he said. “This is the time to tell me if you want to change your mind. There’s no turning back after this.”

Amaranth shook her head. “You’re the one I want. Now and forever.”

“Now and forever,” he echoed. He caressed her cheek dotingly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Graeme crawled on top of her after he arranged her body in a more comfortable position. She smiled, making his heart ache with joy. It was surreal, having her so close and intimate. He kissed her on the lips. She reciprocated eagerly. Her hands caressed his chest. Her soft skin felt like silk. Amaranth curled her legs around his waist. Heaven. His bare skin pressed against hers, the alabaster skin of sheer perfection. He felt like he was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

His cock rested on her pubis, throbbing with need. His balls had been hard—he would feel lightheaded if he didn’t find relief soon. Bracing with one hand on the hard mattress, he pushed her legs down. Amaranth stopped kissing him. Her eyes sparkled. Her big sapphire eyes that were shielded with lush dark lashes. She opened her legs, ready to accept him. Her pussy looked moist, glistening with her intoxicating dew. He felt ravenous again.

He reached for his cock and pressed it against her mons. Her pale pubis looked starkly contrasted against his dark manhood. He watched her reaction as he rubbed the crown of his cock on her wet nether lips he had previously feasted on. She made an urgent murmur. A sliver of doubt plagued him. She was so tiny, he wasn’t sure she if could take him. At times like this, he wished he wasn’t so well-hung. What if he hurt her?

“I’m ready,” she whispered.

She’s ready and I’m ready to burst. I just don’t want to hurt her. Graeme forced a smile. His eyes transfixed on her opening. She’s tiny and virgin. What the hell was I thinking?

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Graeme forced the words out of his throat. “It’s going to sting a little.” Fucking liar. You’re going to tear her a new hole. Idiot. He felt ashamed at the thought.

“I’ve been trained for this. I can endure.”

She could endure. Gods.

Graeme clasped his shaft and rubbed his cockhead on her opening. Morsels of pleasure sparked down his spine. He gave a light push. She yelped. Oh, fuck. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she heaved. “Please…”

“Amaranth…”

“Take me. Please.”

Shit. Graeme inhaled a deep breath and penetrated her.

She threw her head backwards, gasping.

“Amaranth…”

“Don’t stop. I need you now. I’d go insane if you don’t take me.”

He’d go nuts too. Clenching his teeth, Graeme speared his cock into her. Her pussy resisted his entrance at first, but yielded when he pushed himself hard. She cried. His heart felt like it wanted to burst out of his chest. Sheer frustration seized him. He needed to claim her properly, branding her as his where nothing could wash away his conquest over her.

He grabbed her hips, keeping her still. Amaranth whimpered when he thrust down until he could no longer move. He was surprised she could take him more than he expected. She had swallowed him almost to his base. Her pussy gripped him tightly. Hot. Addicting.

His cock pulsed in her depths. The pleasure that cocooned him was so sinful it left him speechless. He had a few good fucks in the past, but never like this. Never. He absolutely hadn’t expected this.

Amaranth’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“I…I’m sorry,” he stammered. “Baby, I didn’t mean…”

“I love it.” She craned her neck and peeked at their joining flesh. She curled one arm around his neck and drew him closer. “Take me all the way.”

All Gods in Heaven. Graeme thought he had misheard her. “You sure?”

She nodded. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

“Damn right.” Graeme grabbed her waist and sheathed himself to the hilt. His balls pressed against her perineum. The crown of his cock kissed the mouth of her womb. Her pussy spasmed against his hard, unsated shaft. “Hurt?”

Unexpectedly, she smiled. “It hurts so good.”

“Oh, babe.” Graeme tried to move, but her tightness prevented him from doing so. He decided to go slow. He pulled out slowly and stopped when his cock head was just about to leave her opening, then he thrust back in the same slow motion. Graeme wanted her to get acquainted with his size. To his surprise, she creamed. He could feel her hot, silken elixir bathe his shaft. He panted. “Still hurt?”

She shook her head. “Faster.”

“Baby, I don’t think…”

“Please?”

Shit. Graeme wanted to go faster, but he didn’t want to hurt her. “I’ll try. You’re so fucking tight.” He picked up his pace a little. She creamed again, making it easier to move in and out. After a dozen strokes, he no longer had trouble with her tightness. Amaranth mewled kittenishly as he fucked her harder.

“Yes, “she breathed out. “Graeme, harder.”

His cock slammed into her without reserve. Graeme felt his self-control slipping away again. He couldn’t go slow anymore. He needed his completion. Sweat beaded his temples as his heart raced. Her pussy made a wet, salacious sucking sound each time he pulled out. He loved the sound of it.

But it wasn’t enough. Somehow, he needed her to take him deeper…

Graeme stopped.

“Don’t,” she protested. “I need…”

“Shh. Be patient. I just need to switch positions. This bunk is uncomfortable.”

Amaranth watched him with wonder when he lifted her from the mattress. Graeme held her body in the air. He was eager to finish this fire.

Her body was airborne and seconds later, she understood what he was trying to do. From this position, she could take him deeper. Amaranth gasped, feeling so full. Her pussy stretched to the limit to accommodate his cock. But she loved it, having him inside of her. The strange, immense pleasure from having his cock plundering her cunt was the only remedy that soothed her stubborn aches. Graeme slid her up and down. Slowly at first, and when she got used to the rhythm, he went slightly faster. He growled. Apparently, he still hadn’t found all he wanted.

Graeme turned around and pinned her against the walls. She protested. The titanium walls felt cold on her skin.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll make you hot in no time,” he cooed.

She had to laugh. Silly him. But her laughter was short-lived when Graeme started to flood her with slam after slam of ferocious fucks. She keened as the pleasure gathered again. He brushed his lips over hers, murmuring how he loved how she made him feel. He showered her with kisses. Then nips. And love bites as he slammed his cock with savagery, grinding his hips as if he was looking for deeper penetration. Amaranth mewled. She had taken him to the hilt. She was full beyond words.

Graeme fucked her even harder to the point she could only feel fire. The air around her thinned. Her heart wanted to burst out from her chest. She couldn’t do anything but surrender. He slammed and slammed again until she couldn’t breathe. Amaranth screamed at the top of her lungs when a climax crashed over her.

Amaranth thought she was dying. She had a momentary blackout in the height of her rapture. When it was over, she felt like a wreck. Her strength left her indefinitely.

She noted Graeme shouted next to her ear while he emptied his seed into her. His cock spurted a dozen spasms. Maybe more. She lost count. Her cunt milked him until he had nothing to empty anymore.

“Oh, babe.” Graeme panted like a winded dog.

Amaranth found his lips and kissed him deeply.

* * * *

She opened up her eyes and realised they had both drifted to sleep. After their fiery lovemaking, they had cuddled and talked. Apparently, they’d dozed off when the conversation died out. The small bunk felt cramped, but they managed. His naked warm body wrapped her in a protective embrace. Amaranth noticed something else. Graeme had taken a shower recently, judging from his soapy scent. When did he have the time to shower? Maybe while she was fast asleep? And he didn’t bother to put his clothes back on. He was still naked under the blanket.

Feeling naughty, Amaranth lifted the sheet and took a peek. Heat warmed her cheeks. He was as breath-taking as she remembered. Broad chest. Flat stomach. Beautiful muscled body. And his cock that brought her endless pleasure.

Amaranth pushed the blanket down, watching his sleeping beast with fervent curiosity. As a hetai, she had been trained with many skills to bring pleasure to her overlord, but she’d never been enthusiastic about her lessons, knowing Shanrakhan was the only man she’d serve. It was different now. All of a sudden, she was eager to put her skills to work, giving him back pleasure after he’d given her so much.

She untangled from him and scooted down, running her hand across his belly. He felt so warm. His breathing was calm and peaceful. Amaranth experimentally touched his cock. It stirred awake. She grinned and clamped her hand on his half-awake shaft, stroking him gently. His cock went hard in her palm. Amaranth couldn’t resist giving him a lick.

He grunted and mumbled something like, “Wench.”

Amaranth ignored him. With the flat of her tongue, she caressed its shapely crown. He tasted like soap. She plunged her mouth until his cockhead touched the back of her throat then gave him gentle sucks.

“Amaranth!” Graeme was fully awake by now. He reached for her and stroked her hair. “What are you doing?”

She released him with a loud pop. “Don’t mind me, I’m just acquainting myself to pleasure you.”

He laughed. “I don’t need…”

His words cut short when she shifted her attention back to his cock. She licked his crown and down his veined shaft. She heard him whimper. His breath hitched and his cock turned dark red, filled with blood.

“Babe…” he murmured.

She paused. “Yes?”

“Come here.”

“In a moment. I’m rather occupied.”

Graeme let out a long groan. She clenched the base of his shaft and stroked him slowly. He hardened even more. Amaranth licked him again, alternating it with gentle siphons and hard suctions. Salty ocean flavour flooded her mouth. Amaranth picked up the pace while twirling her tongue on the eye of his cock.

“Naughty…wench…” he growled. “Come…here!”

Amaranth squealed when he grabbed her waist and pulled her in his direction. It happened so fast, the next thing she knew she was flat on her back while his muscled body was on top of her.

“I didn’t know you had such a wicked mouth.”

She giggled.

“Where did you learn all of that?”

“I was trained to pleasure.”

Graeme snorted. He felt her and squeezed her breast. “Now look what you did to me.” He hissed. “Are you sore?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie.”

“It’s the good kind of sore.” Amaranth wound her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”

Graeme was more than happy to oblige. He showered her with feather-light kisses while he pushed her legs open. Her heart beat faster. She knew what would come. Still, she was unprepared.

“Oh!” Amaranth gusted out a lungful of breath. Graeme filled her. She didn’t remember he was this big. Her cunt contracted around his virile hard flesh. She shivered uncontrollably.

“Too much?” Graeme sounded worried.

“No,” she said quickly. “I love it…”

He sighed and fucked her in shallow motions. “You’re so delicate. I just don’t want to hurt you…”

“You give me nothing but pleasure.”

“Mmm.” Graeme fisted her hair and picked up his pace.

Her heart pounded as fast as he battered his cock into her cunt. Graeme cooed at her in a soft, lulling voice. She tried to cling on to him as his thrusts became urgent, a torrent of jab after jab of pure lust. And the pleasure he gave her, fast and sharp like a strike of lightning fire.

A climax swept her like a hurricane. Amaranth cried. He kept pounding her. She begged him to give her a break but he seemed to be consumed in his own atavistic lust. He kept battering his cock until a second orgasm struck her blind. She convulsed in ecstasy. The world blackened as she gasped for breath. Pure white pleasure entrapped her in one unstoppable tide. She screamed. Graeme shouted too. He ejaculated, bathing her channel with hot cream. Veins corded on his neck and temples. He shuddered. She whimpered in ragged breaths.

It took her a while to compose herself. They snuggled under the blanket without a word spoken, just listening to their breaths until she was about to doze off again. Amaranth caught his eyes and smiled. Graeme was about to open his mouth when she interrupted, “Yes, I’m hungry.”

He laughed hard.

However, his laugh was cut short when someone pounded on the door.

Nate yelled. His voice was muffled by the thick steel. “Graeme, we have a fucking problem! And it isn’t about you.”

Chapter Four

“Rear Admiral Graeme Darin. Haven’t seen you in a long time. Imagine my surprise to find you in this rust bucket. You look good, by the way.”

The smug smile of Captain Ernst Georn filled the bridge’s entire communication screen. Graeme narrowed his eyes. Irritation crept within him. Georn was his former colleague in the Fleet. They entered the service together and were friends at the beginning. But Georn quickly became a pain in his ass and their friendship went sour as the two of them became very competitive. When Graeme was promoted as the Fleet’s youngest admiral, Georn suddenly resigned his commission. Later on, Graeme heard Georn had been recruited to the private sector with a plush position and a cushy salary. What the hell is he doing here now?

Graeme flicked the dust off his jacket lapel, putting out his haughty posture. Georn hated it when he did that. “Likewise. What can I do for you?”

Georn’s smile evaporated. “Curt as ever. We know you have the relic.”

“Oh?”

“We would like it back, of course.”

“The coffin? You’re out of luck. We don’t have it anymore. When we couldn’t dismantle the bugs, we dumped the shit.”

“We knew. Do you think we only bug the container?”

Damn. Graeme had forgotten about the Star of Hecave, the amulet he took from Amaranth’s coffin. He put it on the bridge and forgot all about it. Georn could have tucked a nano tracking onto it and no one would notice.

“We’ve been following you since Persei-7. And we know the Imperial had been on your tail. We want the Goddess’s body.”

“What for? I didn’t know you had a thing for stiffs,” Graeme answered lightly. Nate’s wisecracks had started to rub off on him. On an occasion like this, it came in mighty handy.

Georn started to look agitated. “It’s a matter of life and death, and the Goddess holds a very important key. Prince Tarryn is about to be executed in four days, and if you have a shred of decency, you should give a shit about him. The last time I checked you’re one of the few loyal officers in the Fleet.”

“You work for the Crown Prince?” Graeme didn’t expect that.

“Of course. While you were busy prancing around in front of the queen, I was busy defending the Prince’s honour.”

“Ernst,” Graeme admonished him. “If you want the Goddess, you’d better change your tone.”

Georn snarled wolfishly. “Cut the shit, Darin. What will it be?”

Graeme slipped back to the captain’s chair and poked around some more, enjoying the torture. Nate and his two former aides snickered silently. “I’d like to know how you acquired the relic in the first place? This ship is scheduled to be decommissioned. We were halfway to Sierra-Allyx when we found the container.”

Georn considered his question. “We stole the relic from the queen’s chief expeditor. My agents blew their covers and they had to stow it away in haste. We didn’t expect you to steal it.”

“Is that so? I still don’t see how the Goddess could save Prince Tarryn?”

“Didn’t you know?” Georn leaned closer to the camera. “Dzon Jian planned to challenge Prince Tarryn’s place. Breanna influenced the High Priest so the Sun Temple will allow the succession if Dzon can prove he’s worthy of the throne.”

“How?”

“By resurrecting the Goddess and claiming her virginity to become immortal. But you have her. If we take her to Prince Tarryn and have him—”

“That’s out of the question!” Graeme barked. Nate jumped behind him.

“Why not?” Georn’s voice raised an octave. “It’s the only way to save the crown prince.”

“Because she’s mine. I have taken Amaranth as my wife. If anybody wants her, they would have to claim her over my dead body.”

* * * *

Three days later at Nova, Arcova’s capital

“I know I asked too much of you and I know how much you hate to lie. But this is the only way to end this feud once and for all.” Graeme wrapped his hands around hers, giving her much needed strength. “Think you could pull this off?”

“I hope so.” Amaranth smiled. “Do you think the High Priest will know who I am?”

“Of course. Your paintings and statues are everywhere. Ozai would have to be a fool not to recognise you.”

“What if he thinks I’m an imposter? I’ve been missing for six thousand years.”

“If Dzon and Queen Breanna have been currying Ozai’s favours, Ozai would know they’ve been excavating your tomb. I even suspect that Dzon found you because of the temple’s help. You have nothing to worry.” Graeme paused. “Can you make it convincing too?”

“You hurt me, sire.” She rolled her eyes. “The only thing I’m good at is pretending to be someone I wasn’t. High Priest Mamnon made sure of it.”

Graeme nodded faintly and gave a once-over look at his woman. Amaranth was clad in the Sun Temple ceremonial attire that was too bare for his liking. Rows of gold chainmail covered her chest. Then, more gold chainmail draped around her hips, layered with a sheer long skirt. The ensemble was completed with elaborate gold headdress. She looked breathtakingly divine. But Graeme hated it that anyone could see too much of her skin. Call it being territorial, but this lovely woman belonged to him. “Okay. You remember your line?”

“Yes.”

Graeme turned back at Georn who had been huffing and puffing impatiently while he briefed Amaranth. “She’s ready.”

“Thank Gods.” Georn rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Ernst Georn wanted to kill him when he found out that Graeme had resurrected the Goddess and slept with her. Perhaps, Georn would not have had any hesitation to blow their stolen ship into pieces if he hadn’t been hell bent on saving the crown prince. After long, winding, heated arguments, he and Georn decided to work together. Graeme was worried about his crew’s safety and needed a new means of transportation, while Georn needed Amaranth to save Prince Tarryn. The five of them boarded Georn’s ship and headed back to Nova. And during the flight, he and Georn hatched a plan. Actually, Nate was the one who came up with the idea. That kid was a genius in the miscreants department. He suggested that Amaranth should crash the sentencing appeal.

When a royal was accused of a crime, as in this case where Prince Tarryn was accused of poisoning his own father to usurp the throne, the day before he was executed, he might plead to the High Priest of the Sun Temple for forgiveness.

The High Priest then consulted the temple’s oracles, looking for signs from the Gods whether they should pardon the offender or not. According to Georn, Queen Breanna and her cousin Dzon Jian had planted many damaging evidences, framing Prince Tarryn for crimes he didn’t commit, so that he would need a miracle to save him from the guillotine.

And Amaranth was the exact miracle Prince Tarryn needed.

Brannan poked his head to the corridor. “It’s about to start.”

“Well, my Goddess. Here we go.” Graeme ushered her into the atrium where the High Priest Ozai was listening to Prince Tarryn’s plea.

Amaranth straightened her posture and lifted her head haughtily. “I prefer you call me babe, though.”

Graeme almost laughed but he restrained it at the very last moment. From the atrium, they heard High Priest Ozai saying that the Gods and Heaven weren’t in favour of pardoning Prince Tarryn. The execution would have to take place the next morning.

Ernst Georn burst onto the scene and barked, “Stop this atrocity! The Crown Prince is innocent and whoever suggested he isn’t worthy of the throne needs to hear our proof.”

Ozai snapped back, “Insolence! What kind of proof could you possibly have when the Gods themselves inclined to give us a sign?”

Graeme took Amaranth’s hand and led her into the atrium. She inhaled a deep breath and slipped into her role. In a heartbeat, she turned into a different person. Proud. Self-assure. Haughty, like a divine being should be.

Everybody in the Atrium went silent. Transfixed by her arrival. Amaranth took one look around and pointed at the High Priest. “You. Do you not know who I am? And why do you not kneel in my presence?”

Ozai cowered in an instant. He dropped to his knees. Everyone followed suit. “Goddess Amaranth. I…I…” he stammered in old merah.

“Silence, you oaf. Had you not been clad in that robe, I would have mistaken you for a stray cur.” Amaranth glided to the altar and lounged leisurely.

Graeme was impressed. She could pull off a charade well.

“I am not pleased and do you know why? There I was, minding my own business in the Mother Temple when that brute Shanrakhan assaulted me.”

Ozai’s face blanched white. “Shan…shan—”

“He stabbed me in the heart and the next thing I knew I was in the coffin. In the future. That brave man over there”—Amaranth gestured to Graeme—”resurrected me and told me I had been sleeping for six thousand years. What made me more displeased is that you all accused Jovan’s offspring of a heinous crime he didn’t commit. I knew Jovan personally. I can vouch he was an honourable man and I believed his descendants would follow the same honourable path. But Shanrakhan, on the other hand…” Amaranth threw a cursory glance to the audience. “Was nothing but a jealous brute.”

“That’s a lie!” Dzon Jian shouted in old merah. His cousin, Queen Breanna, looked befuddled as she listened to the translation from her lady-in-waiting.

Amaranth stood up immediately. “Did you just call me a liar, human?”

Ozai bowed low. “He didn’t mean that, Goddess.” He turned to Dzon and shot him a venomous look. “Bow down, you fool!”

Dzon refused. Ozai then ordered the temple’s knights force him to kneel.

Amaranth continued her charade flawlessly. “Shanrakhan was consumed by his jealous rage when he found out I was in love with Jovan. That night, Shanrakhan couldn’t take the truth and tried to murder me…”

Pandemonium erupted.

People shouted at once. Dzon became hysterical. The temple knights unsheathed their weapons to bring order.

Graeme hurriedly came to Amaranth and urged her to withdraw into an antechamber. He saw Georn talked to Prince Tarryn. As they strode away, the commotion turned into a full-blown riot.

Just as Nate had predicted.

* * * *

Three weeks later

Her husband’s new ship was named after her—Amaranth. She knew nothing about flying vessels, but from what she’d heard, the ship had cost a king’s ransom. The Crown Prince Tarryn bought her as a gift for Graeme. Amaranth, the ship, was twice as big as the Imperial ship Graeme had stolen. Twice as fast. And thrice more beautiful. The ship wasn’t only Graeme’s new conveyance—she was also their new home.

After they stirred quite a commotion in the Sun Temple in Nova, High Priest Ozai declared that Prince Tarryn was innocent, pardoned by the Gods themselves. Ozai was exulted when he thought she would lead the Sun Temple. Amaranth declined, saying after sleeping for six thousand years, she wanted to see the world with her new chevalier. She and Graeme got married the day after Queen Breanna was dethroned and Crown Prince Tarryn was reinstated to his full rights, in a small, secret ceremony, led by the prince’s trusted priest.

When Prince Tarryn learnt Graeme had declined to be reinstated into the Fleet and chose to start a new venture with Nate, he bought Graeme the ship. Now, Graeme was captaining a shipping company, a legitimate business unlike what Nate had suggested, delivering goods through the star systems. Keiran and Brannan had chosen to work for Graeme as well. In fact, their crew had also expanded. They had two more new members with them, an ex-freighter named Chakha, who was hired as a shipping master, and a new cook named Kwei. Three days ago, they embarked on a maiden voyage from Nova’s capital to deliver a cargo to the Caledonia system. Graeme said their destination was nearing the edge of the universe and it might be weeks before they entered any inhabitable star system. Amaranth didn’t care. She enjoyed the ride and being with Graeme.

Among many things Amaranth loved about her new life was their new luxurious quarters that she had claimed as her personal sanctuary. Unlike the cabin in the Imperial’s stolen ship, their quarters were spacious and fully furnished with things that reminded her of her homeland Durgha. Graeme did that as a special surprise. He said he didn’t want her homesick. Since they couldn’t always visit their homeland, Graeme thought they should take their homeland with them. Amaranth loved that man.

“Where did you get that outfit?” he asked when she finally emerged from the bathroom.

Each night—or third shift, as they called it on the ship—Amaranth had her fun trying new flirty clothes that modern women wore in their honeymoon bed. “The Prince’s overseer. She bought me plenty of garments when we were shopping at the capital. She said this particular one would please you if I wear it at night time.” Amaranth smoothed the lacy short gown. Babydoll, Xeva had called it. A must-have in every woman’s boudoir. “Do you like it?”

“Hmm.” Graeme pondered. A mischievous smile plastered his face.

His eyes feasted on her cleavage and down to the juncture of her thighs. Her gown was transparent enough that he could see the scanty undergarment she was wearing. She wouldn’t call it an undergarment. That tiny thing basically was a sliver of cloth held together with two thin straps. He appeared to like what he saw.

“I’m not sure. Let me inspect you closer.” Graeme pulled her into his arms and swept her off the floor. His mouth found hers, kissing her greedily as he carried her to a nearby chair.

She moaned and returned his kiss with heat. Her nipples hardened and heat simmered from her pussy. Lust burnt her with every stroke of his tongue. Her body fevered with arousal when he broke the kiss. She groped him, running her hands on the smooth shirt he was wearing and down to the growing hardness between his thighs. His cock twitched underneath his trousers. Amaranth hastily unbuckled his belt, wanting to touch him without any obstruction.

“What are you doing?” Graeme caught her wrists and stopped her. “Behave, babe. I’m the one who’s supposed to be undressing you here.”

She pouted. That earned her another hard kiss from Graeme. She sagged in his arms.

“Let’s see. I really like this cute nightie, so I’ll leave it on.” Graeme felt her all over. He slipped his hands under her gown and yanked the undergarment down. It fell to her ankles. A heartbeat later, his hand cupped her pussy.

A twinge of wanton ache shot through her centre. She whimpered as he petted her moist nether lips. Her heart pounded faster when Graeme plucked her clitoris with his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. What he did make her gush cream. He purred, delighted to see her reaction. Amaranth clawed his shoulders. Her breath became erratic.

“Good?” he whispered.

She bit her lip and nodded faintly.

He spread her pussy lips apart. A finger eddied over her entrance. What he did made her even wetter. “Mmm. I want to see you.”

Amaranth shivered with anticipation when Graeme spread her legs apart and draped them on the armrest.

“I miss having you like this.” Graeme knelt and lowered his head to her moist sex. He blew over it.

Goosebumps crawled all over her skin. Her breath halted in her throat. Graeme blew another gentle puff. He then flicked his tongue on her erect clit. “Graeme!” she gasped.

“Yes?” he teased.

She halted her breath when Graeme flicked his tongue on her clit again. Morsels of pleasure burst from her depths. What he did devastated her, especially when he slowly licked her wet seam and dipped his tongue on her wet entrance. She flinched. He dipped his tongue inside of her, swirling it deeper and deeper. Amaranth heaved. Wanton fire seared through her. She grabbed a handful of his hair. Her back arched in pleasure.

Graeme continued his delicious torture. He caressed her folds and pushed a finger into her. Her pussy enveloped around the naughty intrusion, clenching tightly as he stroked her channel. She was burning with lust.

“Graeme …” She writhed. “Don’t tease me. Please…”

“Yes, babe? What do you want?”

Her face reddened. She still wasn’t accustomed to asking him for pleasure. “I want you…”

“You want me what?”

She growled in impatience. “Take me. Please. I miss you.”

“Well, since you asked very nicely.” Graeme withdrew his finger. “Who am I to deny such a request?”

He undressed. Amaranth just had to have her hands on him while he was disrobing. She caressed his chest. His stomach. His cock. Graeme purred again as she fisted his shaft and pumped him slowly. His half-awake cock became incredibly hard in her hands. Pearly cream leaked from his slit. He stopped her. With one hand, he clasped his shaft and pressed his head on to her burning sex. Her heart thundered. Graeme didn’t take her right away. He teased again, dragging the tip of his rock-hard erection along her pussy lips and her clit. The impact frustrated her.

“Graeme!”

He laughed. “Yes, babe?”

“Take me.”

“Like this?” He pushed the crown of his cock into her opening. His huge cock speared her open and slid in an inch.

“More,” she breathed out.

He pushed in another inch. “Like this?”

“Oh.” His girth stretched her full. He made her feel so good, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more. All of him. “More…please…all of you.”

“Mmm.” Graeme thrust in to his hilt.

Amaranth threw her head backward. The familiar fullness blanketed her, the feeling she’d become addicted to. She closed her eyes. It was pure bliss. “Yes,” she panted. “Oh, Graeme…”

“I love it, too, babe.” Graeme moved slowly. He pulled out until his cock almost left her opening, then he thrust back in until he was balls-deep within her. His cock pulsed inside her, slicked and glazed with her cream. He thrust and tugged in agonisingly leisurely motions. She cried. The pleasure was beyond words. After a dozen strokes, he seemed unable to maintain his slow pace. He sheathed all the way in and stayed. Graeme scooped her from the chair and lifted her. Without taking his cock out, he carried her to the bed.

Amaranth wrapped her legs around his waist. She stole a few kisses from him as the two of them tumbled onto the bed. Graeme went on top of her, possessing her thoroughly. He grabbed her wrists, pushed her arms above her head, rendering her helpless. She couldn’t do anything but surrender to the torrents of his relentless rapid thrusts. Amaranth loved the way he loved her. Loved the way he dominated her. Having him so intimate, just skin-to-skin and their naked lust with nothing in between.

Graeme kissed her open-mouthed. “Too much?”

“No,” she breathed out. “I love it. Faster.”

“Oh, babe. You’re driving me insane.”

Amaranth lost her breath momentarily when he slammed his granite-hard erection so needily as if he was looking for deeper penetration. She keened. He filled her beyond full. He gyrated his hips in a sickly-sweet attempt at branding her body as his. She screamed in pleasure as his cock fucked her in the most primal way possible. Claiming her without mercy.

His hot breath burnt her lips. The pleasure built quickly. He hissed through his teeth as his thrusts quickened. A ripped scream froze in her throat as her body quaked against the tide of overwhelming pleasure. She tensed as the tide crashed into her. Amaranth came so hard, everything blackened.

Graeme silenced her wails with a hard kiss. A harsh grunt erupted from his throat as he climaxed too. His cock pulsed inside her, bathing her channel with hot seed. They lay in silence as they recovered from their wild climaxes. After that, Graeme usually wanted more cuddles that led to a second or third mating. Graeme had a big appetite for bedsport. Amaranth didn’t mind. She loved it.

This time, Graeme only stared at the ceiling in silence. Amaranth channelled his feelings and received a vibe that he wanted to ask her something, but couldn’t find the right words.

Amaranth leant on her side and reached for his face. “All right, what is it?”

Graeme’s eyes flashed in surprise. It seemed that he’d always forget she’d bonded with him. “I spoke with my mother earlier on the vidcom.”

“Oh?” Amaranth had met her new mother-in-law through an ingenious contraption called a vidcom, enabling people to communicate from far distances. “What did your mother say?”

“She asked if you’re with child yet.”

Amaranth laughed. “Do you wish for an heir, Graeme?”

“I wanted to. And my mother has been pestering me for a grandchild for years. That’s why I rarely called her. You can’t believe her nags.”

She considered what Graeme had just said. To have a fruit of their union would complete their perfect life. The idea sounded wonderful. “I’d love to have your children.”

“Well?” Graeme pressed.

“I’m supposed to have the lady moon’s visit in the next couple of days. I guess we should see then.”

“Hmm.” Graeme considered. “Why don’t we make sure the lady moon won’t come?”

Amaranth squealed with delight when he crawled on top of her. His cock was inside her in a heartbeat. She moaned. The familiar fullness returned. “You’re insatiable.”

“So?”

“I love it.”

“That’s my baby.”

About the Author

I write. I doodle. I play guitar. Not necessarily in that order. I’m an incurable chatterbox, heavy metal aficionado, bookworm and a night owl, since most of my stories are done in the wee hours of the morning because of my caffeine-induced insomnia. I’m a big South Park fan, and I’m fluent in Cartman speak and I’m working on mastering my Kennynese. Cookies and donuts are my main diet and I currently owe a fortune to the swear jar. Visit my site to see my complete titles, read exclusive excerpts and hot erotic shorts, or watch the trailers of my books. Friend me, too, on Facebook, MySpace or Twitter. I won’t bite, I promise.

Email: lizzie@ilizzie.com

Lizzie loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Lizzie Lynn Lee

Maison Plaisir

Corporate Plaything

Gilded Cage

Orient Fevre

Captain Kate

Sophie Angmering

Dedication

This is dedicated to all my family, wherever they are.

Chapter One

“Dump the lot.”

Dominic Danyeo braced himself against another barrage of fire from the Galaxy Elite Fleet ship. Whump. Whump. Whump. A volley of shots broadsided them as they sat virtually immobile, trapped against the side of a small moon.

“All of it?” Rennick Stannick was always remarkably calm under pressure.

“No politically sensitive data is to get into fleet hands.” Danyeo rubbed his face, clearly exhausted from seventy-two hours of fighting, “The government of Prime 7 will have to wait. Delete all of it.”

Whump. Whump.

“I always said this was going to be a risky trip.”

“Your comment is noted. Update on the servers?”

“Wiped.” Rennick grabbed for the edge of the flight desk as another barrage of fire hit.

“Good. Smarten up, Stannick, time to abandon ship. Make sure the collective know we need picking up. I don’t want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary in the company of the GEF and remember this was supposed to be a covert operation.”

* * * *

“The ship is secured, Captain. Commander Lomax is escorting all personnel on board.”

Kate Thorn gave the briefest nod in acknowledgement.

“Clarke, take the bridge. Start accessing their ship’s logs and data using the standard protocols.”

Kate could not help the slight smile of triumph as she surveyed the crippled Rim Class ship from the controls of her craft. They had been fighting for almost three days straight, and when all had seemed lost, she had made a last audacious bid to outmanoeuvre her opponents. Her daring attack had trapped the privateers within the orbit of a remote rock mass.

The crew had surrendered without a fight, their ship a mess.

“Captain Thorn…I would have a word with you in private.” Lieutenant Clarke appeared at her elbow before even a minute of her victory had passed. Her third in command was ambitious and lacked Kate’s family connections. It made him an unreliable and resentful subordinate that was better handled promptly and publicly.

“Problem, Clarke?” Kate replied curtly. As one of the youngest, toughest Captains of the Inner Galaxies Elite Fleet, she stuck doggedly to a code of cool professionalism. She kept her distance and maintained an expectation of unquestioning respect from her crew.

“You should not have engaged the Rim pirate ship. It would have been enough to have driven them out of the border zone, away from GEF space.”

“Are you questioning my judgement, Lieutenant Clarke?” Again, rang through Kate’s head but thankfully never made it to her lips. Clarke was becoming more than just annoying. He was becoming a liability.

“The rules are quite clear. We are not to waste time on Rim dogs and pirates,” Clarke insisted. “The GEF directives in this situation clearly state that firepower is to be saved for direct engagement with Rim insurgents.”

Kate resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clarke lived by the damned rulebook.

“This particular craft was well inside the boundaries of the ISS Star’s jurisdiction.” But it had been quick enough to dodge out of their legal engagement area when it had become obvious that Kate’s ship was prepared to attempt to capture a privateer ship. “They were blatantly entering GEF protected territories. You do not have to explain Galaxy Elite Fleet rules to me, Clarke, I was brought up on them,” Kate replied, ruthlessly using an oblique reference to her influential family to silence him. “I am going down to inspect our prisoners. Keep your full attention on the salvage dogs that have been circling since our engagement with the privateer vessel. The rulebook is quite clear about the responsibilities of being on watch.”

* * * *

Kate ran her eyes along the line of fifteen captured men. All of them looked like the archetypical Rim pirate—some had obviously been injured as a result of her attack on their ship and worse was to come for them if she did not act quickly. Lomax stalked on the periphery of her vision as she walked down the line.

“Welcome aboard the ISS Star, gentlemen. The people I need to speak to now are your commanding officers.”

There was silence. Kate stared at the prisoners, and the prisoners stared back. Some openly defiant, others blank-faced or resentful. “Oh, come on now, gentlemen, who is in charge?” she asked again, wearily.

Kate sighed at the lack of response and fingered the cuffs she held loosely in her right hand. “Do I need to remind you of the GEF habit of executing random individuals until a commanding officer steps up?”

Kate needed no reminders. It had turned her stomach as a cadet. She had other methods to secure cooperation, but first she needed to get her hands on whoever was in control of that ship.

“You have two minutes, time starts…”

Two men stepped forward, breaking rank.

The first of the two men was slightly taller than his companion, broad shouldered with dark hair that just brushed the collar of his tight-fitting black shirt. With a single look he communicated an air of superiority that annoyed Kate instantly, exuding a confidence that the GEF—and more particularly, Kate—were no threat to either himself or whatever business had brought him to the borders of ISS space despite the fact she had just shot his ship to pieces. The second man was lean and only an inch or so shorter than his arrogant shipmate, but with a shock of mocha coloured hair cut close to his head apart from one preposterous lock that flopped over one eyebrow. He had bright blue eyes that roamed the room continuously, and although he seemed to lack the supreme assurance of his colleague, Kate could not miss the intelligent calculation in his gaze. These two were clearly trouble.

“So, Captain Thorn, I wish I could say it was a pleasure.” The dark-haired one smiled politely but the smile fell short of his incredibly green eyes. Kate observed the expression on his face with a studied measure of detachment, aware that even this sanitised smile had an unwelcome effect on her pulse. “Your reputation precedes you in these parts.”

Kate ignored his words. She knew she had a reputation. She had spent years fostering it.

“And you are?”

“Dom…and”—he turned to his companion—“Ren. We would like to be returned to our ship immediately.”

Kate found herself irritated by the fact he did not even give her a full name, even though he must know she was the commander of the vessel that had just captured his ship. He had also given no rank.

“Our ship’s systems indicate several salvage dogs are already starting to circle our location, Mr Dom. I would not be so keen to return to a crippled ship without the means to repair it if I were you.”

She considered prompting him for a first name but decided against it. Kate was not about to give him further opportunities to be clever at her expense. “Of course you can return to your ship shortly if you tell us your business in the area, and provide us with the relevant key codes so we can check your story against your ship’s logs,” Kate replied crisply. “You may even find us generous enough to offer repairs and assistance.”

The one called Ren gave an unmistakeable snort of disbelief but Dom simply gave a small, humourless smile.

“Both you and I know, Captain Thorn, that I am in no way obliged to comply. I was not in GEF controlled space when you attacked us, so I am perfectly within my rights to refuse you.”

“I pursued you from a controlled zone and have arrested you here because you were in controlled space,” Kate insisted, resisting the urge to raise her voice as she felt a flicker of annoyance lick at his calm intransigence. “Why had you crossed to that position within the border zone at all if not to cross into GEF space directly?”

Dom simply stood with folded arms.

“If you have nothing to hide then you should have no problem with answering any questions we put to you,” Kate persisted.

No answer.

“Mr Ren, have you anything to add to your colleague’s explanation?”

A slow, lazy smile spread across the man’s handsome face as he simply added, “No. Dom’s in charge.”

Kate took a deep breath. Perhaps it was too much to expect to capture a hardened privateer Rim vessel and to gain a full confession from the crew all in one day.

“Then I am sorry to say our conversation ends now unless you are prepared to cooperate with us.” Kate smiled her best professional GEF smile at Dom and looked into his green eyes with what was supposed to be deep and complete sincerity. “We will of course return you to your ship immediately and then signal our intention to leave very clearly to every ship in the immediate area. I give it ten minutes before the salvage dogs are alongside, cutting the metal from your ship as you and your crew sit cowering inside.”

A muscle worked in Dom’s jaw and Kate felt a thrill of triumph. He knew she was telling the truth and if he wanted to save his crew, he was going to have to give her what she wanted. Or so he thought.

“I’ll talk to you in private,” he finally replied.

“Of course you will. You, and your second, will come with me now.”

“No, I do this alone.” His eyes flashed.

How sweet. Captain Dom obviously did not want his second in command to get into trouble.

“No,” Kate refused promptly. “I need you both. Come.”

Both looked every inch the Rim pirate—lean, handsome and dangerously angry. Ironically, Rim privateers were far less of a problem than the individuals that Kate was actually hunting for in this sector because they operated in small groups and lacked the powerful backup of her true quarry. The really dangerous adversaries in this part of GEF space were the Rim political insurgents, operating with the full backup of the incredibly powerful Rim collectives. Kate’s commanders were fighting a losing battle to prevent Prime Worlds on the edge of the GEF-controlled areas from forging political relations with the predatory Rim. Not every resident within the inner galaxy was happy with the old autocratic methods of planetary government, particularly when it was brutally backed up by the more committed members of the Galaxy Elite Fleet. As a member of the Thorn family, Kate was one of the few considered a safe choice to be patrolling such a sensitive part of space.

Kate had managed to find her own way of delivering what the GEF wanted of her, whilst still being able to sleep at night. What she did not do was to return fifteen people, even if they were outside GEF law, to a crippled ship to be butchered by salvage dogs. It was what the GEF expected her to do—indeed, it was an unwritten rule that anyone who crossed the fleet should be made an example of.

“Go in.”

Kate arrived in her cabin after the escort, and signalled the guards to leave, shaking her head when they indicated that the restraints around the prisoner’s wrists be removed. She took the restraint control from the head guard as he left, then leaned against the door once it had shut behind the three of them.

“Alone at last,” she said finally. Truth be told, she always felt a little queasy at this point, although Kate could not tell if it was due to a fear of being found out or a warped sense of anticipation.

It was important that she do what needed to be done without it being seen as altruistic. Kate also needed to ensure the commanding officers never spoke about what happened in her cabin. She had a fleet-wide reputation for being able to somehow secure the most sensitive and useful data yet only she knew for sure how she did it.

“Strip,” Kate instructed them in an offhand manner. She walked over to a chair in the middle of the room, only to look back and see neither man had budged. “Strip!” she told them again, this time with raised eyebrows.

“And what if we say no?” It was Dom who spoke.

Kate tweaked the restraint control in her pocket briefly.

“Shit!” Dom glared at her, his green eyes blazing. “That hurt, lady!”

“It was meant to.”

“Now look here…”

“Captain,” she reminded him. “Captain Kate Thorn. Now do be good, and strip.”

Kate found her unique approach to be effective. Such was the machismo of the Rim, so precious was a tough man’s reputation that Kate had found the ideal method to ensure silence from the ship’s commanders she’d encountered so far. Her methods also secured enough time to allow the discreet download of as much information as possible from whatever was left of the crippled ship’s servers before the crew were returned. The precious information was then stored on Kate’s own private systems.

“You have a choice.” Would Dom and his second in command be the first to refuse? For a brief moment it wasn’t part of her job. The part she liked least where she had to make sure outlaws would be wary enough of her or the fleet to not cross them again. “Think of it as your only choice today…your chance to save your colleagues, your crew. You choose whether or not you wish to cooperate.” Normally she had very little argument or resistance. Previous participants in her game of risk had been quick to realise they were being presented with an unlikely chance to get into space again without being murdered by Rim scavengers, or imprisoned by the Fleet.

“So you want us to give you information?” Dom asked her. Kate didn’t need them to tell her anything—she had known the moment she returned to her cabin that her own scavenger code was at a critical point in clearing down their abandoned server. One look at the red-green lights flickering on the combox by her chair had told her that. What she needed was time. Kate glanced at the timepiece on the wall. The longer she delayed their eventual departure, the longer her programmes had to dump what looked like the entire contents of their servers onto her own systems. “And if we don’t cooperate?” asked Dom.

“I’ll further incapacitate your ship and leave you and your crew for the salvage dogs,” she lied.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Thorn,” he said. “But I still find it hard to believe you’d do it.”

Kate gave a humourless laugh. “Believe it.” But she didn’t like the look Dom gave her—an almost knowing look. Like he knew what she was up to and was about to blow her secret wide open.

“What are you expecting me to tell you?”

“Tell me?” Kate feigned shocked puzzlement, “I didn’t only bring you here to talk to me. I’m bored today. With the fighting over, the day has gone a trifle…flat. You are two good-looking men. Strip. I want to see you naked and then I’d like to watch as you pleasure each other. If you feel like talking afterwards, then by all means do.” Some did. Kate had been quite taken aback at some of the things she had learnt from her ‘guests’ without any effort on her part to get them to talk.

The sight of their open mouths and look of utter shock made Kate smile despite herself.

“You are joking.” Ren, the blue-eyed one, spoke for the first time since they had entered her cabin, his lip curling into a hesitant sneer of disbelief.

“No,” Kate replied, serious once more. “I’m not. It’s a simple choice. Do it, and you get to be out of here in about two hours and I get something to keep me warm on these long, cold Rim nights.”

Ren said something under his breath that sounded remarkably like a curse but Dom was watching her with narrowed eyes.

“Is that how you do it?” His gaze was so penetrating it was as if he could see inside her head. “Is that how you get such a fearsome reputation? What a time you must have with all the sexually repressed enemies of the GEF. What a blackmail asset to hold… I take it you record it all.” His eyes flicked over the ceiling and walls as if to seek out the hardware she had had discretely located about the cabin.

“The first rule is what happens within these walls, stays here,” Kate assured him, mentally counting the seconds as her precious data started its initial download.

“I bet it does.”

“I never talk. One has to maintain a certain reputation for confidentiality,” she replied, pleasantly surprised she could sound so cool when her heart was pounding so loudly.

“Are you trying to tell me that confidentiality does not have a price, Captain Thorn? And don’t tell me, the second thing, no joining in?” The green gaze was just a little too innocent.

“No,” supplied Kate coolly. “I am all voyeur.”

“A wise business move from your point of view, Captain.”

“Indeed,” Kate agreed. She sat in her chair, her legs crossed at the knees, and wiggled her booted foot. “I’d only spoil things.”

The two men watched her, their gazes now less shocked and rather more calculating than Kate felt comfortable with. She rubbed the restraint control in her pocket, its presence soothing. She was in charge. “Get to it or I will think you have chosen the crippled ship option.”

The blue-eyed second in command gave her a reluctant grin of almost admiration. “Lady, you are one piece of work.” He licked his lips. “So, who does who?”

“I’m not fussy. I simply require some suitable action for my…private records.”

Kate glanced at Dom out of the corner of her eye as she settled herself only to intercept the briefest of glances between the two men. She blinked. What did that look mean?

Dom went first, pulling the black close-fitting shirt over his head. It clung lovingly to his body as he dragged it over his smooth, toned torso, his voice muffled as he said, “I am not about to abandon my crew to the mercy of Rim dogs. If there is the smallest chance of getting out of this mess, I’ll take it.”

Kate was jolted by a wave of pure lust at the sight of so much of him. A curl of pure desire unfolded low in her abdomen. Her thighs became restless and she moved in her chair to re-cross her legs. Kate’s pussy throbbed hungrily at the prospect of what was to come.

Down, girl! Kate told herself with gritty control. Be in charge, stay in charge and you win, she reminded herself.

“How do you expect us to do anything with these on?” Dom asked her, indicating the wrist restraints that allowed him to pull his shirt over his head but not remove his breeches due to the way his hands were confined.

“You’ll manage,” she replied. “But just to help you get started…”

Kate got up from her chair and moved behind Dom to undo his breeches herself. With a practiced flick of her wrist she pulled them down over his lean hips, resisting the urge to run her fingers over his smooth, warm skin. His erection sprang from the confines of his clothing hard and eager despite his show of annoyed reluctance.

“Mmm,” Kate could not resist. “I think you’ll manage rather well.” Kate stepped back a few paces to her chair but did not sit down. “Take him in your mouth,” she instructed Dom’s second in command, aware, as she was subjected to a rebellious gaze, that as bound and as vulnerable as the two men were, somehow, they were still managing to encroach on her control of the situation.

“We are not likely to forget this, Captain.” Ren flicked the long lock of hair from his eyes and looked at her long and hard.

“Neither will I,” Kate replied in an artfully sultry voice that she hardened before going on to say, “but it is still your choice. I can still simply hand yourselves and your crew over to Lomax and we will put you back on board that heap of twisted metal that we all persist in calling a ship. I’ll resign myself to leaving you there for the scum that prey on the helpless in these parts.”

Dom’s regard was pure ice.

Crap, thought Kate, he’s going to call my bluff. Her hand tightened on the restraint control and without thinking her eyes darted to the commlink. She could just call Lomax and have them taken away. She would have to hope that the data she rescued gave her some suitably obscure information that she could claim was revealed to her by them whilst they were in her cabin. Insurance was proving to be a tricky business.

“An interesting definition of scum, Captain.” Dom suddenly grinned and winked at his companion. Ren rolled his eyes then dropped to his knees, flicked the lock of hair from his eyes and put his mouth to the tip of Dom’s erect cock, giving it an initial swirling lick. Dom exhaled sharply and clenched his buttocks as his hard length then disappeared between Ren’s lips. Kate’s pussy flooded with moisture, her restless limbs once more making her shift from foot to foot in an effort to stem the ache between her legs.

Dom rested his hands on his own head, gently flexing his buttocks to keep his balance as his cock was worked in and out of Ren’s mouth.

Kate clenched the muscles in her abdomen at the sight. Her clitoris felt engorged and sensitive as it sat against the seam of her breeches. Whichever way she stood or sat, Kate could not get comfortable. She suppressed a small groan as Dom’s straining erection bobbed from his blue-eyed companion’s mouth, glistening, before being recaptured. Kate sat in her chair, then got to her feet again, restless and unable to take her eyes from the two men before her, only to sit down once more, still transfixed. It had never affected her like this before. Before, it had always been amusing, occasionally almost laughable, if humiliating for those concerned.

It served its purpose.

This time it was pure torture.

“What do you want us to do next, Captain?” Dom’s voice was soft, hypnotic, yet still arrogant. Transforming into the voice of temptation as he asked, “Do you want him to fuck me?”

Kate could not stifle the small, breathless moan that escaped her. Sweat beaded above her upper lip. Dom smiled at her slowly. “Or shall I fuck him?”

Suddenly she was the trapped one. Dom was playing her, not the other way round. Not the way it should be. Her eyes desperately sought out the clock on the wall—subconsciously she did the sums that indicated she had just over an hour to go. Her instincts were that Dom had secrets on his ship. They also told her she was unlikely to last an hour with these two men and stay uncompromised.

She had to stay strong. I have to stay in control.

“What do you want me to do, Kate?”

Kate gripped the arms of her seat with a white-knuckled hold, her discipline slipping.

“I want to see you fuck him but I want to you to make him come for me first.” Kate’s strained words were unusually raw, her voice hoarse, her throat dry. She looked at the handsome man crouched before Dom—he had his eyes shut and seemed to be blissfully in the zone as he rubbed his tongue along Dom’s turgid length. Kate leant forward as she watched. “Get up, Ren,” she told him.

Kate never used names. It was a way of keeping her distance. Not getting involved.

“Ren.” Dom flexed his hips to drive his cock deeper into the man’s mouth and throat. “Ren, get up. The lady wants you fucked.”

There, he did it again, stealing her control of the situation.

“Yes, do get up, Ren,” Kate said, sweetly sarcastic. “Dom’s going to show you a really good time. Aren’t you, Dom?”

A wry glance from Dom was all the response she got from either of them. Ren gave Dom a last lick before he climbed, with surprising reluctance, to his feet.

“So, undo him.” Kate nodded at Ren’s breeches where an erection could clearly be seen pushing against the clinging, stretchy fabric. Dom unbuttoned him quickly, pushing the breeches down to Ren’s ankles. “Suck him, Dom. I want to see his cock in your mouth.”

Dom cast a look from the corner of his eye that spoke volumes before putting his bound hands between Ren’s legs so that man was forced to widen his stance, his cock jutting upwards. Dom swallowed the swollen length easily, able to work Ren’s buttocks and balls with his hands given his positioning of them before he had even started.

Ren came quickly with a low groan, obviously having been brought close to climax by servicing Dom. He closed his eyes, thrusting urgently into Dom’s mouth as he shot his load.

“Swallow it,” Kate tortured herself. Her pussy clenched as she told Dom what to do, frantically trying not to imagine herself in his place, on her hands and knees, sucking and licking them both as they spent in her mouth. “Every last drop of it.” He did it in absolute silence, finally releasing Ren’s cock from his lips with a moist pop.

“Fuck.” Dom was on his hands and knees, still painfully erect, Ren bent at the waist, spent. Both men were beautiful—the shape and definition of their muscles moved under their skin as they gasped for air in the heat of the cabin. Kate ran a hand over her face and felt the sweat rub onto her palm as she bit her lip to stop herself moaning again. She’d had fat middle-aged men doing this, hairy thick-set salvage dogs doing this, even passably good-looking privateers doing it.

This time was different. She felt perilously close to the edge of her control. It was as stupid as it was dangerous and it was time to finish it before things got out of hand. Kate took a deep breath and stood.

Ren and Dom stilled, watching her.

“Come here, Kate.” Dom’s voice was soft. It pulled at the very part of her that had been in torment as she watched. Kate could only stare back at them, her pulse thumping in her ears.

“I…can’t,” Kate croaked.

At that point her commlink crackled into life.

“Captain Thorn, code red.” It was Lomax, sounding frustrated and angry.

Kate looked again at the time. Dom’s strange spell was broken as reality came crashing in. She’d done it—the server data was hers.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but it is time to go,” Kate said brightly, her tone belied by her flushed face. “Get dressed. The guards are on their way to escort you off the Star. You’ll be pleased to know your own recovery ships are only minutes away.”

Kate needed to get the ISS Star out of there before they arrived. She was not about to be a scalp on anyone’s belt.

“Running away, Kate?” Dom moved towards her, but Kate simply pulled the restraint control from her pocket and held it before her. Dom stopped in his tracks, a cool smile on his face. It was a smile that implied things were far from over.

Kate spun on her heel and left. He would not be smiling if Lomax caught him naked in his current mood.

* * * *

It was almost three hours later that Kate was called from her evening duties by an urgent communication from her commanding officer, Admiral Bow. He had just received two disturbing pieces of information. The first was from a delegation of ambassadors from the Danyeo Rim system, protesting volubly and most publicly at GEF Headquarters about an illegal attack on a Danyeo Company Barge in the immediate area of the ISS Star. And the second piece of information was that her third in command, Clarke, had contacted Bow to register his concerns about her actions towards a privateer ship he had later discovered to be registered to the wealthy, and powerful, Danyeo family. That sonofabitch Clarke had blown the whistle on her. No surprise given Clarke’s proclivities. If the arrogant bastard called Dom had flashed that smile and some pathetic sob story to Clarke, Kate was not surprised at the outcome.

Kate was fuming. The GEF was her life, but still, every day, she was in the position of having to prove herself as the toughest and the most resilient of command staff to both her inferior and superior officers. In the Thorn family, personal success was measured solely in terms of rank and recognition within the GEF. Friendships and relationships were seen as an unnecessary distraction and Kate knew she had been raised self-sufficient and focused to the point of blinkered where her career was concerned. Her family were an unfriendly but powerful group of people who just happened to be related by blood.

It could be bleak and lonely at times.

Times like this.

Kate buzzed the commlink to Lomax and hid her anger at Clarke’s uncharacteristically assertive action. “Did you get anything?”

“I managed to get one code out of one of them but I don’t know if it’s valid or not.”

It didn’t matter. Not really.

Kate had agreed to let them go because she already had what she wanted from the Rim Class ship’s systems. She’d make herself feel better by finding something useful from the stolen data.

All she needed now was time.

Chapter Two

“Kate?” a voice said softly in her ear. She surfaced from her sleep instantly. None of her crew would ever use her given name, or certainly approach her, in person, in her quarters. They would hail her on the ship’s intercom. “Captain Kate, wake up.”

At the use of her title Kate struggled awake to find the world was still in darkness. She put a hand out to activate the light by her bedside only to have it deftly caught and twisted behind her back. Her other wrist was quickly captured and held.

“She’s certainly awake now,” another voice sounded just to the right of her, as soft as the first.

“Are you awake, Kate?” someone whispered across her face.

A hand-held light came on suddenly in her face, blinding her temporarily.

“Yes, yes, I’m awake,” she snapped, turning her face away from the brightness. “Cut the light?”

They didn’t, so Kate kept her head turned away.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Kate.”

Kate’s abdomen went into spasm as she recognised the voice.

A restraint clicked into place on her wrists, trapping her in her waking position, face down on the bed. All trace of sleepiness fled as Kate instantly became battle-alert, adrenaline coursing through her in a dread rush. She swung her legs round in an effort to kick out and maybe escape her prone position face down. Instead, her ankles were trapped and used to drag her along the length of her bed until she was pulled over the padded end, belly down, with her naked bottom cheeks angled into the air and her toes just about able to touch the floor. She was totally helpless.

“You won’t find anything. All key codes and important documents are not stored in here,” she told them. Her cheek squashed against the soft bed covering was making her voice sound odd.

“We don’t need key codes, Kate, just an easy point of access,” was the reply. Her personal system access screen flickered to life, revealing the familiar face of Ren from the privateer ship.

“What are you doing here?” She renewed her struggles. “We released your vessel. You were supposed to leave the sector.”

“You dumped information from our wrecked ship’s systems. How you did it is something of a mystery as we had cleared the servers. But still you managed to recover enough to trigger the howler software that alerts us when data is stolen. You are not only reckless, Kate, but far too clever for your own good.”

Kate scowled and turned her face. So that was what they wanted. To destroy the potentially valuable information that had turned up in their ship’s files. It was understandable, if immensely annoying that they had worked out what she had done before they had been back on the far side of the universe in some obscure space port.

“Apparently you are an ambitious risk taker,” Dom spoke as if he was quoting from a personnel reference. “Did you know you have an icy reputation and a talent for achieving your goals without fucking your commanding officers? Do you think you sound like a bit of a loner, Kate? “

“What are you accessing?” Kate demanded. “That is a GEF secured system.”

“It’s all here in Lomax’s log. He has an awful lot to say about you, his commanding officer. I must say that wasn’t nice, Kate, leaving Dom and myself with your second in command. Commander Lomax certainly enjoys his work, but not maybe as much as you do.”

“He has a job to do,” she replied bluntly but her heart sank. What had Lomax done in the few moments he had been alone with the two of them? He could be unpredictable, particularly when frustrated.

“Carrying out your orders, Captain? To use whatever means at your disposal to get the information you require?” Dom’s voice dropped to a low, chastising whisper. “To save it onto your private systems.”

Kate turned her face away from her interrogators, biting her lip in an effort to quell the urge to squirm. The truth was she neither liked nor trusted her subordinate officers, but she was not about to tell a couple of space pirates that. She knew she should never have left the prisoners under Lomax’s control. She thought Lomax had got the one code from the crew, but Lomax obviously thought he could succeed with Ren and Dom where she had failed. No wonder they were so pissed.

“The general consensus across the whole of the crew seems that their commanding officer could do with a damn good spanking, she’s so tight in the arse.”

“I suggest you get back to your ship and get away from here as fast as you can, because as soon as I am able, I am going to kick your backsides to the far side of the Rim,” she snarled at them, the loss of her prized data, the personal comments recorded by her crew and her anger at them for invading her personal space finally pushing her temper beyond breaking point.

“Are you?” Dom turned away from the systems access point to face her fully for the first time. “You should watch your mouth, Captain, or we might just follow your crew’s advice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” But something in his gaze made her breath catch.

Her tormentor simply smiled and looked past her.

Kate heard a laugh, but she had no idea they had in mind until seconds later the sting of a broad hand with outstretched fingers burst across her right buttock. Kate spluttered with shock and rage, furious. She could feel a tide of red flooding her face as she finally managed to grit her teeth, determined to show them just how tough she was.

Thwack! The slap of a hand sounded again, the sound of it striking flesh followed by the humiliating searing burn across her backside on the left buttock this time. After the fourth stroke she panted for breath. After the fifth and sixth, her teeth were not clenched anymore and she was cursing hard, her backside no doubt as red as her face. After the seventh strike she felt cool hands smooth over the burning cheeks as she started to moan.

“Get up, Kate,” Dom whispered in her ear, sliding her back so her feet were once more in contact with the floor.

“Make me,” she spat, using the purchase of the floor to kick out at him. He captured her with an arm about the waist and pulled her firmly down onto his lap. At first Kate didn’t understand why he was positioning her in that way, but when he turned her so she was hanging over his muscular thighs, head down, she suddenly knew what it was about. Unmistakable desire started to unfold in her gut as she continued to struggle away.

“Ah, Kate,” was all her captor said, “I think you prefer it this way. Do you want it, Kate?”

“Bastard!” She wriggled as his hand glided over her naked back to the line of her bottom. Then, without warning, his palm smacked down, sending a wave of tingling fire right the way to her toes. Kate twisted against him, spitting with anger but also now trying to resist succumbing to the erotic charge of her situation. She moaned, and writhed in his lap. Kate became all too aware of the burning need inside her as she started to respond to the attention. She moaned again as the open hand fell once more across her painfully hot skin.

“Do you want it, Kate?” Dom asked again, his voice demanding.

“Oh…” She swallowed desperately. Then the thought of being left on the edge again, still burning as she had been from their previous encounter hours before, proved too much. “Yes! I do…I want to come.” Her plea ended on a gasp. “But I can’t.”

What she got was the cooling swipe of a tongue across her buttocks, its progress electrifying the burning skin in its path. It swirled a figure eight over the hot cheeks of her bottom before plunging into the gap between them to lick the rosette there. Moisture flooded down to bathe the plump lips between her legs as she continued to writhe under the attentions of Dom and, now, Ren. Her wrists were released from the restraints to allow Dom to catch her arms at the wrist, bearing both back towards the floor.

“Beautiful,” Dom whispered softly in her ear as Ren continued to lick and kiss her, and then roll his tongue round the lips of her labia and the sensitive bunch of nerves within. Dom’s hand ran over her breasts, palming and twisting her nipples, pushing her down more firmly onto Ren’s mouth and his amazing tongue. Her body appeared to have acquired a life of its own and was no longer hers to command.

“Come for me, Kate,” Dom whispered.

“I can’t.” Did the man never listen? She tried to sit up but was ruthlessly held in position across Dom’s legs.

“Yes you can.” And with that a finger slipped into her backside.

Stars danced before her eyes and Kate came with a shriek of shocked surprise. It was a dizzying, all-encompassing climax that engulfed her from head to toe in the most glorious sensations. Her continuing shuddering groans temporarily drowned out the sounds of the ISS Star’s alarms as the ship’s sensors finally identified there were intruders aboard. Kate slumped across her bed momentarily stunned as the two men with her prepared to flee. Ren seized her chin to dispense a swirling kiss into her slack mouth, his mouth salty from her own juices.

“Time to go,” Dom told him before turning back. “Try not to miss us too much, Captain,” he whispered to Kate as they finally slipped through the door to her cabin, and into the dark corridor beyond.

“No chance of that,” mumbled Kate as she finally managed to hit the alarm next to her bed. “Intruder alert—two pirates. Two extra cycles of shore leave to whoever can get them first.”

Chapter Three

The crew never managed to catch the two space pirates to claim the shore leave and Kate found herself still dealing with the aftermath of the visitors to her quarters for what felt like weeks after the incident.

It had been the heat sensors on the ISS Star that had identified intruders were aboard during a routine sweep. Then Kate had had to explain what the heat signatures had been doing in her cabin for forty-five standard minutes and two seconds.

“The intruders had gained access to the ship’s systems and were deleting data,” she had told an initial enquiry headed by Admiral Bow over space-conn, and chaired, at the Admiral’s request, by Lomax.

“I take it this was data that you had removed from their vessel after the earlier engagement?” Lomax asked.

Kate thought it prudent to say nothing specific in response to Lomax’s question, and simply answered, “They seemed anxious to ensure any information regarding their vessel was removed from the system.”

Admiral Bow simply grunted. Lomax shuffled his notes.

“It would not take that long to delete data,” Lomax said. “What else were they doing?”

Kate looked straight at Lomax as she said, “They were trawling though the GEF online systems for information.”

“Did they find anything?”

“They found your personal log.” Lomax flushed bright red. “They looked though all the crew’s logs. They seemed to find them very interesting,” she added. Clarke looked like a stick had been shoved up his arse and wiggled about.

“Those systems are supposed to be third-level secured,” Clarke said.

What had he recorded there that had left him so shocked at the possibility they had been seen by unauthorised personnel?

“Well, it would appear they are not so secure that a Rim pirate cannot compromise their integrity in seconds.” Kate could feel a muscle working in her jaw as she fought to control her temper.

It was not only the stupidity of her subordinates that had been driving her mad recently, but her libido. For years it had conveniently remained an obedient and docile beast, but now seemed to have suddenly roared into life with the help of two complete and utter space wasters. It was the orgasm, of course. She’d never come with anyone actually in the room with her before and now it was as if everywhere Kate looked she was searching for that particular set of broad shoulders, or shock of mocha hair. Even thinking about them started a slow burn of desire from deep inside her pelvis that lingered like an annoying itch she could not scratch.

“Captain Thorn—a word now that we are in private.”

The meeting had finished and Kate was pulled back from her musings by Admiral Bow’s imperious tone. “

“Captain Thorn, your subordinates have expressed some concern over your current disposition. Lomax in particular says you seem very distracted.”

“Lieutenant Lomax does not always appreciate the difficulties of command, Sir.”

And Lomax was also always looking for opportunities to undermine her. He was as ambitious as Clarke, socially intelligent yet with a low animal cunning that could make him far more dangerous.

“Clarke also has concerns.” Kate shut her eyes briefly. She knew what was coming next. “I think it wise to take the precaution of relieving you from duty for a set period long enough for you to be assessed for your fitness for command.”

“Why?”

“Lomax says your decisions are becoming increasingly erratic.”

“Lomax is an unscrupulous opportunist.”

“Clarke agrees you made a faulty judgement with regard to the capture of the Private Trade vessel. He says he constantly has to question your interpretation of GEF directives.”

Kate’s gut lurched. Okay, that could prove risky, if Bow started looking at what actually went on when she captured ships.

“Clarke is not a particularly flexible individual with regard to process, Admiral. Border space needs more creative solutions than either Clarke or Lomax are capable of.” The Admiral was not listening. Kate could tell by the way he dropped his gaze to shuffle his papers.

“The GEF psychs say you need to return for assessment.”

Right, of course they did. People did that and never returned to space again. It was a conspiracy. Kate could sense it and she knew however much she argued she was not going to win this. Psych assessment was the only way to displace someone who carried the Thorn family name from a position of responsibility. Lomax and Clarke must have joined an unprecedented alliance to make a strong case.

“Also, the Danyeo diplomatic group are demanding a full enquiry into the entire incident involving the interrogation of the prisoners and your role in it. They are calling for your arrest.”

Kate sat back in her chair, surprised at the news that one of the most prominent controlling bodies of the Rim seemed to be determined on collecting her head.

“Since when did the Danyeo Collective instruct the GEF on disciplining their officers?” she asked.

“They do not.”

Kate begged to differ but thought it more prudent to simply purse her lips and keep quiet on that point, so turned her attention back to her own predicament.

“This is not a matter of me returning for a command assessment at all, is it? I am being asked to return for the sake of diplomatic relations with the Rim territories. These are the same territories that hide pirates and encourage incursions into the space that we are supposed to protect. These territories back political insurgents with major firepower in areas of space too vast for the Fleet to cover adequately. It’s a calculated campaign to erode the colonised galaxies that you’re pledged to protect, Admiral. Make no mistake—I will contest this decision all the way.”

Admiral Bow simply ignored her comments and said, “Lomax will take command of the ISS Star with Clarke as his second. My decision on this is final, and I would appreciate it if you completed your handover as quickly and as smoothly as possible.”

“I would like it a matter of record, Admiral, that I think you are making a serious mistake. That was no Danyeo diplomatic barge and Lomax and Clarke are…”

“Your comment is noted. Good day, Captain Thorn.”

Aware of her temper rising hot to tell the Admiral exactly what she thought of him, Kate shut her mouth abruptly and left the room without another word. She had not made the rank of Captain in her mid-twenties without realising when it was time to walk away from a fight.

If the Danyeo diplomatic group were calling for her arrest, it was most likely that their next step would be to attempt to extradite her to the Rim for trial. They were most tenacious when it came to making an example of those GEF personnel who they felt had transgressed against them and her gender and relative youth had made her a well-known figure in the GEF command structure. In doing her job as she saw fit, she had just crossed the line with people who would think nothing of getting her busted down to insect level, if they did not get their hands on her first.

It was a long walk back to her cabin. For a woman who had spent almost her entire adult life living on her wits in deep space, she had an instinct for trouble and when she was about to walk into a trap.

Kate really did not want to be stuck on an administrative hub when a sixth sense was telling her she was being lined up as a sacrificial diplomatic concession to the whims of Rim politics. She had no intention of ending her days on a remote Rim stockade planet because she had been stupid enough not keep a closer eye on the wily Lomax and, it would seem now, the even more cunning Clarke.

I’m a fighter and a Thorn. It’s not going to happen, Kate told herself. She was going to fight it.

The question was, how?

Chapter Four

The ISS Star arrived at Port Luz within three days of her being relieved of command, and no sooner had they arrived than a representative party from the Danyeo System Fleet had also appeared. The larger, sleeker battle class cruisers were allowed to manoeuvre without hindrance around the Port’s space and that of the ISS Star. Kate watched their jockeying with no little interest. If she was Clarke or Lomax or even her old self, she’d be feeling pretty anxious, but Lomax had no fear and Clarke no brain and she was not her old self anymore. She was now simply Katherine Thorn. The Danyeo ships had done nothing more than dock at Port Luz but such was their size and firepower that alarms were sounding for ISS Star personnel to return to their stations. What they were going to do, Kate had no idea. Port Luz was an unprepossessing hub on the edge of GEF space with a couple of fairly average bars and a busy dispatch rate from its warehouse stations. They had few weapons of note and Kate was pretty sure that from what she had seen the pride of the Danyeo fleet would make short work of her new place of residence and the ISS Star within a few minutes should they wish to do so.

Kate made her way slowly back to her allocated quarters on the Port Luz main hub, only to be met by the sight of an armed guard by her door. They were GEF troopers from the ISS Star.

“House arrest,” Kate reminded herself. “That’ll teach you to demand a fleet hearing and embarrass the hell out of Bow.” It felt good to have made Bow uncomfortable but Kate was well aware that in requesting a hearing she may well have just opened a whole can of trouble. She stared at the guards, deciding whether to simply enter the room then be stuck there or enjoy the freedom to walk the station a while longer. Kate released a long sigh.

“Tough not having a ship, isn’t?”

The voice behind her made her spin round and bang her head against the wall of the corridor. Momentarily stunned, she blinked and her sight cleared to take in a small but deadly army of giants.

“Shit!” Kate felt the blood drain from her face as she absorbed the implication of the scene before her.

Dom stood with a group of ten armed soldiers who she knew for certain could not be GEF. He was dressed for fighting, as were the soldiers, in the distinctive Danyeo family colours of silver and black. They were most definitely descendants of the genetically engineered inhabitants of the Rim standing at least a head taller than any of the GEF troops. They must have boarded Port Luz from the Danyeo fleet even as she had been watching the ships earlier.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Attack was the best form of defence, right? Kate forced her breathing to slow. “Still a ship down, Dom? Having to take on contract work? Working in a snatch squad must be a bit of a comedown, though.”

“Bring her.” Dom indicated that the guards should take Kate with a jerk of his head.

A guard seized Kate at Dom’s command. Kate spun round and knocked his hands off her in a reflex action, back straight, her face indignant, her stupid hormones suddenly in overdrive at Dom’s unexpected appearance. “Who the hell are you to take me anywhere? I’m on a space station that is well within GEF protected territory!”

“I’m here to arrest you.”

“You have no jurisdiction here.”

“I have appropriate clearance from the Luz authorities to remove you.”

“But I am not subject to the Luz authorities. I am still a Captain of the Galaxy Elite Fleet and am already under house arrest pending a fleet hearing.” That did not sound good. Kate winced.

“But you are not in a ‘house’,” Dom pointed out a little too reasonably, indicating the obviously restless guards standing at the doors to her empty quarters.

“Then maybe Commander Lomax should be the one to arrest me. What has Lomax to say about this?”

Dom’s response was to cast a withering look.

“Clarke?”

“Clarke spluttered a little about protocol but I doubt you’ll receive much help from that quarter either.

Kate snorted angrily and smacked away the hands of her captor. “I refuse to leave. I have a fleet hearing to attend. Because of you I’ve lost my ship.”

“There’s a coincidence,” murmured Dom. “I know how you feel.”

She threw a seething glance at Dom, who stared back with his mesmerising green gaze. “If I fail to attend the hearing, then the GEF authorities will decide against me. I have to be there. It’s a matter of life and death. You really have no idea!”

Chapter Five

A furious Kate was marched along the corridors of Port Luz surrounded by the tall, intimidating figures of the armed Danyeo escort. People stared at her as if she was part of a freak show as she passed, no one dared question her progress and only one of the ISS Star’s troopers was brave enough to challenge the Danyeo force as they moved towards the exit docks.

“We are under instruction to forbid the removal of Katherine Thorn from the station,” he informed them as additional troopers from the Star took up their positions behind him.

“Captain Thorn is under arrest,” Dom stated in a tone that brooked no argument, moving to walk past the armed man as if he was not there.

The trooper clicked his rifle into the ready position and went to step back into the path of Kate’s captor, but his way was blocked by one of the Danyeo guards.

“Don’t you know who this is? This is Lord Danyeo.” He moved closer to tower over the Star trooper. “Lord Dominic Danyeo. He has more diplomatic clearance than you could possibly imagine. Do yourself a favour and let him through, soldier.”

“Lord Danyeo may have clearance but the fact remains we have orders not to let Katherine Thorn off of Port Luz.”

“She is under my jurisdiction,” Dominic Danyeo replied, “for confining two individuals with diplomatic immunity as specified by the GEF treaty with the Rim World confederation. Are you about to make the same mistake?” The trooper shook his head. “Any other questions, soldier?” The man shook his head again. “Then get out of my way.”

The troops melted away and Kate was tugged forward again. She stumbled slightly and found herself caught under the arm by the man she now knew as Lord Dominic Danyeo. A Rim Lord. Not her lucky week.

“Careful.” He smiled a grim smile at her as he continued to lead her through the last of the corridors of the station. “Don’t look so unhappy, Kate. You should be very grateful—you could have been arrested by the new Captain of the ISS Star. Although apparently he’s not as bad as the old one is reputed to have been.”

“Really?” was all Kate could manage, her expression fixed as a very real dread started to rise inside her. There was no way that Lomax or the GEF was going to stop them taking her. Despite Rim and ISS differences, to do anything to genuine confederation diplomats that could be deemed torture or coercion contravened the Rim World Confederation treaty and was a career buster. She shook her head in an effort to get her thoughts straight and when she did Kate could barely suppress a grimace of despair. She’d taken prisoner, stolen data from and attempted to blackmail a member of the Danyeo family, a leading clan amongst the outer Rim ruling class. No wonder the ISS Star had surrendered her without protest; little surprise the GEF top brass had instructed Lomax to relieve her from duty as soon as possible. She’d made Lord Dominic Danyeo, Rim Lord, suck another man’s cock. If nothing else, she was a walking target. The Danyeo reputation for fast, brutal retribution in the face of transgressions against them was well known.

“This way, Captain Thorn.” Kate was led through into a shuttle bay. She pulled angrily at Danyeo’s grip on her arm, reluctant to appear at a disadvantage in front of the other GEF officers.

“Don’t struggle, you might hurt yourself,” His Lordship hissed.

Lomax, Clarke and what had been her bridge team stood silently to witness her departure in the hands of Danyeo’s men.

Kate raised her chin and stared down anyone rash enough to look at her. She glared with particular venom at Lomax and Clarke, just so they would know she was nowhere near discouraged or beaten by the recent turn of events.

No one said a word until a sob broke from one of her old communication engineers.

“You won’t hurt her, will you, Sir?” she asked Danyeo.

Lord Dominic Danyeo smiled a long slow smile.

“We will be giving Captain Thorn our every attention,” was all he said.

Chapter Six

The interior of the Danyeo battle cruiser was minimally decorated and beautifully designed down to the last bolt. Even in her Port Luz overalls Kate felt garishly overdressed compared to the grey clad operatives they passed. It could have been worse—she could have been brought aboard in her GEF uniform with its white ornate jacket, gold braid, large buttons and breeches over trimmed with metallic ribbon. House arrest on Port Luz had meant that to wear her GEF uniform was forbidden. Good thing, really. It would seem the outer Rim fleet could teach the GEF something about taste.

“This way.” Kate was directed into a modestly proportioned room by her guard. Lord Danyeo had left them shortly after they had boarded the vessel, the guard then taking her down into what felt like the intestines of the massive ship. The guard left her to be digested without explanation, the door shutting behind him with an ominous clunk.

Kate scanned the empty room. The only means of exit possible appeared to be the same door she entered through with the guard. There were not even any door controls to try and manipulate or break open.

“Damn!” With an angry sigh Kate made one last frustrated circuit of her prison.

“So…”

She jumped, spinning on her heel to meet Dom Danyeo’s speculative gaze.

“Enjoying your new accommodation, Captain?”

Kate’s breath halted abruptly at his sudden appearance, only to return shallow and fast as she reminded herself to breathe. She stood so still she could feel the muscles in her legs twitch in response to the enforced stillness.

“Welcome to the battle cruiser Rimstar.” Dom’s voice was deep and smooth, far more relaxed it would appear now he was on his own territory. He sounded satisfied. Kate managed a tight nod and wondered if his fellow ‘free trader’ Ren was on board the Rimstar as well.

“Ren will join us shortly.” Kate thought it might be prudent to be careful what she thought about in future.

He gave a small smile. “Drink?”

“Ah, no…thank you.” Kate kept her chin up and tried to keep her tone as businesslike as possible.

“Take off the suit, Kate.” His voice was soft, but commanding.

He pulled the ugly yellow suit from her arms as she stepped out of it, then seized the standard white issue shirt she wore underneath and removed it by pulling it over her head. Kate was left standing in her support vest, GEF briefs and her boots. He squashed the coveralls and shirt thoroughly between his large capable hands.

“No listening devices there.” He smiled the briefest of smiles, his green eyes bright and predatory. “Now off with the rest of it.”

Kate hesitated, uncertain. “You mean my boots?” There was, after all, precious else left of her outermost clothing.

Dom frowned.

“No.” He leant forwards and removed her support vest with a practiced flick of his wrists.

Chapter Seven

“Hey!”

Kate’s vest shot from around her chest with a speed that had her clutching at the exposed wayward mounds of flesh with panicked hands. She was a girl in possession of larger than average breasts. It had been a constant annoyance to her in the male-dominated world of the GEF, for being a well-stacked female rarely secured the kind of attention that one would want. The standard issue support vests did a good job of flattening out such assets—particularly if, like Kate, one had an athletic build.

“Bend over.”

“Bend over?” Her reply was disbelieving. She could feel her expression becoming more incredulous by the minute.

“Bend over, Kate.” He was checking for the chips and plastic patches that would indicate bugs or listening devices, running his fingers through her hair and across her skin.

“Don’t pull my hair about.” She tried to twist away from his fingers as her hair started to fall in locks about her face. “It’s never undone when I’m on a tour of duty!”

He pushed her head down firmly and continued combing her hair through his fingers.

“I’m clean, you idiot.” Her protests were muffled by her hair and breasts. “I have not been bugged.”

“Of course not, but in the same position would you not check me just as thoroughly?” Dom pulled her upright and held her face in his hands. “Ah, no. You would have Ren do it, of course.”

With that his hands slid down her ribcage and forcefully into her sensible GEF briefs, only to rip them effortlessly in two to remove them.

Kate’s intake of breath at the violence of his action rang loud in the room. She swallowed hard, reminding herself she was a decorated officer of one of the most formidable fleets in the known galaxy. She had taken him prisoner first in this game.

“What is it you want?” she asked of him, her voice tight.

Dom Danyeo stared straight back at her. “Several things. One of which is to set an example.”

“Of course.” Kate bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself saying another word. It had been her own methods that had led to this, even if she had been trying to help both them and herself. “Look, my family has some influence…”

“The Thorn family connections are a long way away, and can do little to help you now.”

“Am I to be tried for breaking the confederation treaty then?”

His laugh was short, brief and almost amused. “Not today, Kate, and probably not tomorrow.”

But the implication was that she would be.

Kate’s emotions spiralled and gave a tiny dead cat bounce as they hit bottom. “As a prisoner, I have rights.”

More correctly, as a GEF Officer she had rights, but at the moment her status seemed confused.

Danyeo moved a step closer and simply stared at her. “Do you?”

Oh. My. Maker was all Kate could think as she stared up at him. Those long ambitious years in the Elite Fleet had simply not equipped her for standing naked in front of one of the most handsome and powerful men she had ever encountered. Dom reached his hands over his head and pulled off his black shirt, leaving him clad only in breeches and boots. He shucked the boots off, then calmly dropped his breeches. He was buck naked and dangerously gorgeous.

“Come here, Kate.” He smiled enticingly and held out his hand.

Chapter Eight

As Kate sat on the floor watching the two men shower, she kept reminding herself that ‘the outer Rim societies are fundamentally different to those of the GEF worlds’. She shut her eyes briefly, only to open them again to the same images as before.

‘They are a race based on a different set of principles, brought about by a different set of rules. They were always going to be unusual.’

Ren had joined them shortly after Dom had sat her in the corner, her hands cuffed.

Danyeo and Ren obviously enjoyed the social aspects of showering together. Kate had watched wide-eyed as Ren soaped Dom’s body thoroughly before Danyeo did the same for him, lathering his arms and thighs before soaping him down his back and torso. She rested her back against the wall of the wet room, mesmerised by the action before her, her bound wrists resting on her knees folded in front of her.

Kate had cultivated the concept of being a professional voyeur on the Star, but had yet to realise its full implications until now, when faced with men who were tall, muscular and quite breathtakingly beautiful involved in the strangely erotic practice of washing each other from head to toe.

Stories within the Inner Galaxy worlds told of ships of genetically altered humans being sent to colonise the worlds of the outer Rim with little expectation of survival almost a millennia ago. But they had survived, and then some. Like an ungrateful child turning its back on a parent, the outer Rim worlds had declared their independence and had fought a short but decisive war to enforce it. The Galactic Elite Fleet had not only been established to protect the inner Rim worlds from any threat from their new neighbours but also to ensure no other worlds within the inner sectors had the same idea about establishing an independent state or joining the outer Rim worlds in their defiance. It meant they didn’t mix much.

“Katie.” Kate was brought back from her reverie by a commanding voice. “Come here.”

“No,” she replied, her upbringing compelling her to add, “Thank you. I’m a little…” She raised her hands locked in their restraints. “Tied up.”

Ren laughed, he seemed genuinely amused at her response. “I think you like that. You look very…”

Kate frowned and looked down at her bound hands. “Captive?” she asked him crossly.

“Prepared,” Ren corrected her.

Danyeo simply rolled his eyes. “Kate, join us. You need to wash.”

“I’m a prisoner,” she protested, resisting the lure of pleasing them. “We are very reluctant to do as our gaolers wish and we often smell. Get used to it.”

“You smell of the GEF installations,” Ren told her from under the powerful jet of water. The GEF’s insistence on sonic showers meant that a water shower like this one was a rare luxury.

Kate simply shook her head and looked away until two firm hands seized her beneath the arms, pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the water. Kate was not even allowed to hover momentarily at the peripheral of the steamy cascade before another set of strong compelling hands pulled her directly into the blinding fall of hot water. Kate’s senses were swamped in a rush of intoxicating sensations as she spluttered—the water, the smell of clean male skin, soap, as well as the not-so-pleasant smell of herself now she had other smells to contrast herself with.

“Come here.” Kate didn’t know if the words came from Danyeo or Ren, but she didn’t care. Hands, soapy hands, turned her and lifted her arms with her confined wrists up onto her head. The same hands were then gliding over her skin, her body, through her now unbound hair, to the very ends of her fingers and toes.

“Do you like this, Kate?” Ren whispered gently in her ear, his hands moving up to slide over her breasts, his fingers closing on her hard nipples.

Kate could only gasp, “Yes,” in reply, more so as Danyeo’s fingers caressed her clit before moving to soap her buttocks in long lingering strokes. His fingers pulling the globes gently apart, a finger in her anus up to his knuckle before she finally worked out what he intended.

“Oh no,” Kate yelped, she self-consciously tried to lower her voice and sound more authoritative as she tried to wriggle her way free. “I don’t think…”

“Your problem is you think too much.” Danyeo’s murmur merged with the noise of the shower as he continued to soap her clit and finger her back passage. “You need to stop and feel more, Kate.”

He shifted his hand between her cheeks so he could slip his thumb between them rather than his finger. With Danyeo’s thumb up to its hilt in her arse and Ren nipping her breasts, tugging at her nipples with his teeth, his lean hips rubbing against her soapy stomach as he worked his large cock rhythmically against her, Kate could not stifle the gasping moan that came from her throat. Ren pushed her further back onto Dom’s questing fingers, his other hand moving to catch her hair in his fist, pulling her head back until she was looking deep into his searing sky-blue gaze. “Do you want us to stop, Kate?”

“No, don’t stop,” she begged, opening her eyes wider and unable to do anything other than let them roll back as Ren started feasting on her breasts once again, his mocha hair black under the jets of water, this time a little rougher, his nips sharper, more painful.

Kate’s resistance was non-existent. The sensations coursing through her body meant whatever resistance she might have had simply dropped away. She knew she was not in control of the situation—indeed, her hands were still bound—but she was unprepared for the liberating sensation of being so captive. Her two gaolers rinsed both themselves and Kate thoroughly beneath the shower. They then manoeuvred her back into her room still dripping wet but Kate did not feel cold.

“Bed,” Ren snapped.

Instantly the contours of the room realigned themselves to include a wide, low bed made in the same tactile grey fabric that covered the floor and walls.

“Oh!” Kate was momentarily diverted by the technology before Ren launched himself onto it to lie before her. He was broad, muscular, erect and ready. Gorgeous enough, spread as he was before her, to start the long slow burn of raw desire she had been fighting ever since her previous sexual encounters with these two men.

The time had come at long last to finish what had been started on board the ISS Star.

“Not you, Kate.” Dom turned her round, clipped her wrists to something above her head and sat her on what looked like a pallet on the floor. It was a comfortable pallet, but a pallet none the less. “Sleep well.”

Chapter Nine

Kate decided it was the nights that were the worst. The days were tedious as Dom and Ren would be absent, to get on with whatever work two part-time Rim ambassadors, or whatever the hell they were, did when they were not getting perfectly respectable Galaxy Elite Fleet Captains into major amounts of trouble.

But at night, it was hellish.

After that first mind-blowing occasion, they did not touch her again. Kate was allowed to shower somewhat self-consciously on her own, but always with either Dom or Ren watching her, before she was secured to her pallet by a single wrist restraint.

Then it would begin.

Not that she saw anything, for as soon as they hit their respective beds, the lights were out and the cabin was as black as pitch. But she could hear.

Boy, could she hear.

It would start with the sound of skin against skin, hands running along arms, backs, legs. Then she would hear murmuring, some shifting, positioning and occasionally a brief stillness. Finally, restless movements on the bed that all too small distance from where she lay would indicate the start of proceedings in earnest as then came rustling, the rumbling groans that gave evidence of arousal, then worst of all, the rhythmic sound of extended, gratifying, vagina-clenchingly great sex.

It was torment in its purest form. Particularly when one or both of them started to make noises in earnest as they were close to coming. Breathless gasps, rough words, suggestions that made Kate’s ears burn and her abdomen throb. Kate’s sexual experience was limited to a few fumbling disappointments and one spectacular orgasm courtesy of the men present, but she could still honestly say she found lying awake in the dark listening to Dom and Ren make each other climax an educational torture.

And she was convinced it was quite deliberate.

How did she know?

On the most recent occasion it had been late. The enforced lack of activity was slowly driving her mad. She was living from hour to hour simply to see if she could annoy or provoke her gaolers when they did turn up. They seemed to know what she was up to and refused to rise to the bait. So, when everyone had showered and the lights turned out, a very frustrated Kate braced herself.

She was not disappointed. Dom and Ren started having what sounded like the greatest sex Kate had ever been witness to, almost straight away.

Kate shut her eyes tight, and turned over onto her side, willing her ears to stay deaf to the sounds coming behind her. She fumed a little then became too stiff in that position, so she rolled back the other way as far as she could, given her wrist restraint, and looked towards the bed. As usual she could see nothing, but she could hear Ren breathing harshly in the silence and Dom speaking in a low urgent voice, “Is that where you want my tongue. There?”

“Ah!” The sound of Ren jerking away from what must have been a shock of contact made Kate’s stomach muscles clench. “Yes. Do it.”

Kate turned again, desperate to either shut out the sounds or get to sleep. She was feeling aroused, restless and not a little uncomfortable. For Kate it was the final straw in a punishing cycle of arousal, then denial. She pressed her one free hand against herself in an effort to suppress the sensual burn, but instead her touch made her jump as if her fingers were on fire.

“Closer. Give it to me every bit as hard as you know you want it when I fuck you.” It was Ren’s voice again. Kate’s eyes rolled at the crazy sexy picture of Dom’s buttocks working his cock into Ren’s backside. A hoarse shout signalled Ren had climaxed, followed by a broken, raspy, “Fuck,” that signalled Dom had found his.

It was too much for Kate. As perverse as it made her feel, she stretched her legs wide and pressed harder, kept going, rubbing all along her slit and teasing the plump folds of her sex enough to make her jerk and have to stifle a moan as she tried to come with as little evidence as possible. Just the thought of what she was doing, rubbing herself to a climax as two men had sex not half a room from where she lay, and that she did it with one hand tied to the bed, was enough to push her over the edge. A flush of exhilarated sensation flooded her from head to toe as she stretched and shook with release. Her orgasm hit her, a small moan escaped her as she climaxed, leaving her spent and feeling temporarily sated. No one would ever know.

Until a deep, satisfied laugh sounded from the bed.

Dominic Danyeo had heard her. He knew.

Chapter Ten

Kate lay on her bed in her cabin, staring at the ceiling, feeling as if she was on a countdown. An ISS delegation was two days from rendezvous with the Rimstar and Kate could only see bad things ahead for all of them.

“Thought of anything to say to the delegation yet?” Ren came into the room, blissfully unaware of how sexy he looked in a close-fitting black shirt and military-fit trousers, his tight butt clearly defined by the dark, stretchy material.

“I could ask you the same question,” Kate shot back at him, holding out her bound wrist to him as he crossed the room to release her. She only had the one restraint now to stop her leaving the room. “I’m not the one keeping a fleet officer as a pet in their cabin.”

Ren merely grinned as he unlocked the cuff. “Katie, you certainly know how to invigorate a boring day,” was his reply. He seemed more relaxed than usual, a little less on his guard, his blue eyes twinkling. He was gorgeous, but too cocky, thought Kate. He deserved a lesson and she deserved a little more respect.

Kate turned away, rubbing her wrists, her head bowed, pretending to be deep in contemplation of the delicate bones there, but then she doubled back, sprinting fast for the still open door. Ren spun on his heel with a growl and launched himself after her but it was too late. She was through the doorway and out into the corridor.

Oof!

Instantly she was caught. Kate could only wail with frustration as she was firmly turned about and walked back into the room by Dom. She started to twist in his hands as she felt Ren pull the thin chemise she now wore above her buttocks, and apply his hand firmly three times across her bare backside.

The fiery sensation of her spanking went straight to her clit in a way that reminded Kate all too clearly of before. A wave of arousal washed over her as she fell to her knees, her legs suddenly weak with desire. Looking up, the beautiful Dom stood before her unbuttoning his trousers, a wicked grin on his face.

“Do you want it?” he asked.

Kate stared at his fully erect penis a tongue’s lick away from her mouth before sitting back on her heels. Her mouth watered, her clitoris throbbed with arousal. She wanted Ren, she wanted him and yes, she wanted it. She wanted it all.

“Are you ready to finish what you started on the Star?” Dom smiled a wide wicked smile. “I want you to be sure.”

Kate could not deny the curl of desire that had started to lick about her abdomen from its source between her legs. All those torturous nights she had spent listening to these two men indulge in each other’s bodies meant she became moist even as one of them looked at her.

“I thought maybe you weren’t interested,” she admitted. “You know…”

“Oh no, no, Kate, if you had any idea how much time we’ve dedicated to planning our payback.” Dom still had hold of her wrists and was using his superior strength to keep her firmly down on her knees. “Is that a yes then?”

“Yes.” Kate didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes, yes.”

She opened her mouth and Dom’s cock slid in. She rolled her tongue around the broad hot shaft, glorying in his moans as she moved her mouth up and down. The sensations created by Ren’s mouth as he kissed her shoulders and back made her squirm and gasp. He twisted his tongue from side to side, then traced all the way down to the top of her buttocks. Dom was a delight to tease and torment—he obviously liked to be in control and said little yet the movement of his hands over her body said it all, begging one minute, threatening the next. She grasped his balls in her hands as it seemed the right thing to do and ran her fingers behind them, glorying in the power it made her feel.

Dom finally came with a tumultuous shout, moving his hips like his cock was a piston, shuttling it in and out of Kate as she attempted to swallow and not gag. Ren rolled away as Dom stepped back and Kate did her best to follow him, her fingernails clenched into his tensed buttocks, greedily licking him as he went.

So much for payback, thought Kate finally, licking her lips as she laid her head against Dom’s thigh, her mouth full of Dom’s salty essence.

“Get on him,” a voice in her ear told her. Dom turned her and guided her down onto Ren, the hot plum-shaped tip of his cock sliding slickly between the lips of her vagina. The sensation of Ren sliding into her, stretching her with an unrelenting sensual burn as she settled astride his thighs, made her head bow forward and her breath leave her in a groan of sensation. Her previously bound hair flopped damply across her face and down her back. Ren felt far bigger than the men she had had before. Being mounted on top of him was gloriously horny.

“Oh fuck,” Kate gasped.

Ren simply laid back and groaned, the rumble moving up through his torso. “Sweet Kate, you are tight.” He gasped.

“I am? It certainly feels…” She shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position.

“Dom, don’t let her move.” There was a slightly desperate note to Ren’s voice that sent a thrill of power through Kate. She shifted slightly again, rewarded with a groan of near agony from the man beneath her.

“Stop it. I’ve seen that cruel streak of yours before,” murmured Dom. “It was evident even when we fought against each other in the stars.”

Kate shut her eyes and smiled slightly as she leant back into Dom, a deep growl from Ren the result. “And I won, I captured you both,” she reminded him in a hoarse whisper.

“Yes, you did. In more ways than you can possibly imagine.” Dom pulled her legs back and eased her forward to lie flat along Ren’s body. Kate could feel Ren’s stiff cock move even further inside her and reacted to the increased pressure on her clit with a rush of breath, but the breath turned to a moan as she felt Dom’s cock nudging at what had to be the entrance to Ren’s arse.

“Push out for me, Ren.” His fingers were cool upon the pursed lips of her anus as well as he spread something between her cheeks at the same time he lubricated Ren. “Relax, Kate,” he repeated. As she did so, suddenly, he slid two fingers in, deep.

Dom Danyeo’s long elegant fingers were a thick, hard agony as he thrust them into her but then a seductive, wickedly dark pleasure as he withdrew them again. She was crushed between two muscular chests, long legs entwined about her, full to the point of painful pleasure yet as she looked up all she could see were two of the most handsome men she had ever beheld, their gazes locked as they dared each other to be the first to move. Green eyes battled with blue as they continued to stare each other out.

Despite her iron-willed intention not to distract either man in his preoccupation with the other, Kate started to shake before they had as much as moved a muscle. She shook as if she had a chill fever when Dom gave a breathless laugh and did eventually shift as Ren flexed his hips. Each man started to move to his own, yet still vaguely complementary, rhythm. A deep craving ignited within Kate, and she responded by sucking in her stomach and contracting her pelvic muscles even as Ren and Dom continued to thrust. The gasping moan and sudden stillness behind her gave her a small thrill of success.

“Kate,” Ren said, sounding breathless and hoarse, “by the maker, woman, you hate to surrender control, don’t you?”

Kate could not resist a small smile and yet another contraction until her moment of power was stopped abruptly by both nipples being caught in a pinching grip.

“Pull them, Dom. Show me her breasts.”

Dom obliged, pulling her breasts up by their tips to a moan of appreciation from Ren.

She froze, aware of being on the precipice of an orgasm controlled by Dom.

“Stop teasing Ren and ask him what he wants from you, Kate.”

Kate cleared her throat awkwardly, her voice strangely high when she actually spoke. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, Kate. I’m so close, just move.” Ren sounded breathless and hoarse. “If you don’t move I think I’m about to die anyway.”

“You always were a pussy, Ren,” Dom spoke harshly from behind her, suddenly driving deep and moving her hard against Ren’s cock as he moved in Ren’s anus. His next stroke was just as relentless, as was his next, and his next.

“It’s no good.” Kate felt Ren’s release as he reached the top of his climax with a shout and started his journey down the other side. “I’m done.”

“Not a problem.” At his next stroke Dom pulled his cock from Ren. Pausing to wipe it clean of lube, he plunged his cock into Kate and onto the reverse of Ren’s recently vacated spot. He pulled her knees up over his forearms as he continued to fuck her from behind.

“Come for us, Kate.” But Kate was well ahead of him. The new position made Dom’s thick cock end push down the full length of the front of her vagina. He did it again, again, again and again. Within ten relentless strokes she was gasping for air. Within twenty, she was starting to wail like a creature possessed. After that Kate could remember shouting out some nonsense as a wave of pure sensation took a fraction of a second to engulf her from the ends of her toes to the tips of her fingers. So strong was the spasm of intense pleasure that Kate was almost sure she lost a few moments as she came. The world went black as Dom reached his own peak and released a harsh exclamation of his pleasure.

They lay in an exhausted sweaty heap, not moving until Ren propped his head up on one hand and said to them both, “Well, that was interesting. What next?”

“Attach her cuffs to something that will stop her being able to leave the room,” Dom replied abruptly as he raised himself from the bed and looked straight at Kate. “You are GEF born, bred and trained. You are as headstrong as you are foolish and frankly you terrify me. I have no intention of letting you jump ship before we assess how safe things are out there for you.”

He was worried about her safety?

It would seem that being an intergalactic love slave was to be her toughest assignment yet.

Chapter Eleven

The negotiation party arrived, and their very first demand was to see Katherine Thorn. Their second demand was an answer to the question of why she was still in the personal custody of Lord Dominic Danyeo and Rennick Stannick and had not been released into a provisional informal custody on a neutral boundary world as had previously been requested.

It was a request that had been made a week ago.

Dominic Danyeo had sat sprawled in his chair at the table, resplendent in his black and grey battle dress looking every inch the indolent ruler of several lawless galaxies.

Kate sat primly next to him in her Port Luz warehouse overalls trying to look like someone who had known all along that she was not actually supposed to be on board his ship.

“Maybe it would be for the best if Thorn was released into our custody now, whilst we are aboard…”

“No.” Danyeo’s response was brief and to the point. The accompanying grin was as humourless as an arctic rim cat’s legendary smile just before it pounced, and if anything, colder. “I don’t think so.”

“What we had thought was that such a highly qualified pilot as Captain Thorn may well prove a substantial addition to our crew,” Ren said.

“You mean screw,” a smart-mouthed negotiator from the GEF delegation muttered so quietly, Kate scarcely heard him.

Dom Danyeo did not even raise an eyebrow, but the man who had spoken was immediately surrounded by heavily-armed security officers.

“It is hardly my job to remind you where you are,” Danyeo informed him, his face wearing a deceptively lazy smile, “but I would ask that you do not refer to Captain Thorn in any terms other than those of the utmost respect.”

The negotiator flushed bright red and pulled at the collar of his white ornate GEF jacket as if it was suddenly too tight for him and sat back in his seat, glowering at Kate as he did so.

It did not seem possible, but the negotiations spiralled ever downwards from that point. The main thrust of their argument seemed to be that Kate could only be of value to the Rim contingent due to her detailed working knowledge of the Galaxy Elite Fleet, and as such holding her was a direct act against the ISS as it put the security of the Fleet at risk.

Kate had almost forgotten how she much she hated sitting at a table with high level negotiators.

Not that Lord Dominic Danyeo or his legal counsel Rennick Stannick were in any way outdone. Both had moved on from pretending to cooperate on a few of the points presented to them regarding her return, to point blank refusal across the board.

To say by the end of the first day that there was an impasse in the proceedings would have been a gross understatement. Kate simply wished they would decide quickly between them what they wanted to do one way or the other so she could start to deal with things in her head. The first being how on earth she was going to walk away from Dominic Danyeo and Rennick Stannick. Both men were so in tune with each other that her leaving would be nothing but the merest ripple on their emotional landscape. For Kate it was starting to feel like the end of her world even though there were times when she still felt as if she hardly knew the two of them at all.

Be careful what you wish for, Kate, she told herself.

Chapter Twelve

Well, this was different.

Kate stood in a room that was remarkably similar to her own. What was not the same was the large chair situated in the middle of it, occupied by a cold-faced, grey-haired man dressed completely in black.

“What did you say your name was again?” Kate refused the seat, preferring to stand to face the man before her.

“Calvin Stannick.”

Kate raised her eyebrows, and had to ask, “Any relation to…?”

“I am his father.”

“Does Ren know that you are talking to me?”

“No.”

“Does he know you have had me brought here to talk?”

“Not yet.”

Kate pulled a small face as she considered the potential ramifications of what she had just been told.

“And your chief concern is…?”

“The Rim confederation treaty, the wellbeing of my son and the truce that currently exists between the houses of Danyeo and Stannick.”

It was like a vidscreen quiz show.

“Ah.” No one could ever accuse Katherine Thorn of being slow on the uptake, and even Kate could see how she could well be a threat to at least two items he had named on his list.

“You are concerned that I could be a threat to the Rim confederation treaty if I am not returned immediately.”

“I am concerned, but it is not that that prompts me to talk to you alone.” Calvin Stannick climbed slowly to his feet and walked across the room to stand before her. Kate could clearly see shades of Ren in his bearing and his mature good looks.

There was never a substitute for good genetics.

“Then what does concern you?”

“That you represent a far greater threat than you could ever understand. Through you a permanent tie could be made between the houses of Danyeo and Stannick. Such an alliance, indeed, even the threat of such an alliance is enough to threaten the lives of Lord Danyeo and my son.”

Whatever Kate had been expecting to hear, it had not been that.

“But they are already together.” She rubbed her temples, thinking as she did so that Rim politics made ISS politics look like a parlour game. “I don’t want to shock you, Mr Stannick, but…”

“I know what they are to each other, Captain Thorn.” Stannick’s face was an impenetrable mask as he regarded her. “I was witness to my son’s incarceration in the outer stockades by rebel elements of the Danyeo family when their relationship was discovered. I also stand in great debt to Dominic and his determination to recover Ren from that awful place. From it has grown a truce between two powerful families, which has enabled us to grow and prosper, Ms Thorn. From it has grown the threat to the ISS and ultimately the GEF. Most within the Rim do not have a problem with that.” Stannick took a deep breath. “What they will have a problem with is you.”

“Me?” But already Kate could see where this conversation was going.

“Katherine Thorn, once Captain Katherine Thorn. The Thorn family are the rigid backbone of the Galaxy Elite Fleet, are they not? Is your father not the GEF representative on the main ISS committee?”

“Is he?” Kate swallowed the irrational lump that rose in her throat whenever mention was made of her father, “I would not know. We are not…close.”

“I had heard. But the fact remains that your father was instrumental in starting negotiations with the Rim confederation to secure your release.”

“Make no mistake—it would have been to save his face, Mr Stannick, not my head,” Kate responded tightly.

“Indeed.” Stannick steepled his hands before him and regarded her with an uncannily familiar set of blue eyes. “Yet the effect is the same. It puts Ren and Dominic in bed with the enemy.”

The man’s logic was terrifying. “I have been told that my life is at risk if I return to the ISS with the delegation.”

“I would not be surprised. There are political elements that would use this situation to undermine the Galaxy Elite Fleet as a whole. An alliance with you, of any description, even the threat of an alliance, is enough to get Rennick and Dominic killed. I cannot allow that. The current head of the Danyeo family, Dominic’s uncle, cannot allow it either. Their alliance is borne, not condoned, Captain Thorn. It has brought great benefits to both families. But the fact remains that you could bring the end of both houses should you deliver trouble to the Rim that results in either one or both heirs being killed. The resulting power vacuum would suit the ambitions of many in the ISS.”

Kate took a deep breath and said finally, “I did not ask to be arrested, Mr Stannick. I have lost everything and if what you say is true, I’m as much at risk as Lord Danyeo or your son.”

Calvin Stannick sighed and nodded. “Factions within both the GEF and the Rim are greedy for power. You cannot volunteer to stay without upsetting dangerous, suspicious forces within the Rim and your family would surely not stand by whilst my son and Danyeo flaunt you as their lover. In all honesty, I believe that although my son is slow to come to reason, Lord Danyeo has grasped that fact already.”

Both men had been strangely subdued when she had seen them earlier.

“Then I have no choice but to go,” Kate said quietly, “but on one condition. That I leave immediately.” She could not face going back to the cabin. Her heart lurched sickly at the very prospect of coming face to face with either Ren or Dom. She’d never felt the need to say goodbye before, and she didn’t think she could master it in the next few minutes. “Are you able to do that? What will you tell the ISS delegation?”

“I will simply tell the ISS delegation that you elected to leave this vessel without their escort.”

Ren and Dom would be furious.

“Then I’ll go.”

Calvin Stannick gave a slight bow.

“A wise decision, Captain Thorn. I will call my man.”

Chapter Thirteen

It was an unfamiliar GEF vessel that came to collect her.

Kate felt the frisson of danger as soon as she stepped aboard. The entire ship seemed to hum with it. As Kate made her way down the corridor with Calvin Stannick’s escort it was as if everyone stared at her as she walked.

“Rim whore!”

Kate jumped as if she had been struck, turning to see the person who had barked the insult at her simply walking away.

Every face of every person seemed to be looking her way. All regarded at her as if she had done something terribly wrong.

“This way, Ms Thorn.” Her escort showed her towards the Captain’s quarters. “The Captain will see you straight away.”

The door opened to reveal a sumptuous set of quarters, far superior to hers aboard the ISS Star. It was a sea of cream and gold. But then this was a Galaxy class cruiser with a far superior specification to that of the Star.

Kate wondered if the crew on the ISS Star had even noticed that she had gone.

“For fuck’s sake, Katherine, how could you let it happen?” A petite woman with brass blonde hair strode to the front of the cabin and dismissed Calvin Stannick’s man with a flick of her head. “And you can clear off. Tell Stannick you’ve delivered her as arranged and I’ll see to the rest.” With that her escort scuttled out of the cabin, leaving Kate to her fate.

“Helena.” It was her sister, Captain Helena Thorn. The meanest, most artificial bitch across several systems and the last person she would ever have wanted to see in this situation. Why did it have to be her?

“You are a fucking idiot. You should have ended it before it went this far. You know how it goes, death before dishonour, and all that crap.”

“Are you suggesting I should have killed myself, Helena?” Kate had been not ten minutes out of Rim custody and she was close to ending up in a prison facility for wringing a GEF officer’s neck.

“Do you know, I honestly think they thought you would do it? The family were so proud of you. Your reputation has spread right the way through the fleet, youngest…”

“Shut up, Helena.” Kate stopped her sister before she could reel off that long list of now meaningless achievements.

“That would be Captain Helena Thorn to you.”

“Wow.” Kate sat without being asked, running her hands over the cream leather upholstery of her chair. “Nice furniture, Nell. Who did you fuck to get it?”

She then leant back and looked up at the ceiling, “And what is that?”

Her sister glanced above her head, narrowing her eyes to focus before saying, “A cage…don’t change the subject. Do you have any idea of the trouble you are in? What were you thinking of, screwing two of the first sons of the damn Rim? Only you could have a fucking death wish that wide!”

“That observation, coming from a woman who has a”—Kate looked one way and then the other—“naked man suspended from her ceiling in a cage, I can only take as a compliment.”

“I am not a woman. I am a fleet Captain. Something you would have done well to remember before you got yourself into this fucking mess.”

“Would it make any difference if I told you I never planned it to end like this?”

“Did you give the command to compromise Danyeo and Stannick?”

Kate could not even bring herself to nod. “I did it with the best of intentions,” she admitted.

“Then it’s your fault,” Helena concluded darkly. “You are responsible for the consequences of your actions. It’s a Thorn family motto. You know that. Along with screw them before they can screw you. And now, talking of consequences, I have the problem of what to do with you.”

Her sister frowned angrily up at her ceiling. “I am hoping you are in the market for some sensible advice. My advice being if you wish to continue to live for much longer, I strongly suggest you retire your links with the Rim Lords, the Galaxy Elite Fleet and the ISS as soon as possible. Then lie low for about ten years.”

Helena might be a bitch but she was family.

Kate sighed and said, “I thought you might say that.”

* * * *

The Thorn family rarely trusted others. Captain Helena Thorn dumped her sister at the transport hub as arranged yet, insisted Kate was not to touch the papers Calvin Stannick had ready waiting for her. Kate did not need persuading. It did not take too much exposure to Helena’s company for her paranoia to rub off on a person, and Kate used her limited time with Helena’s high level access to the GEF and ISS systems to re-establish herself an identity that would enable her to hide in plain sight on the borders of Rim and ISS space. An identity that Kate knew was secure because she had set it up personally—the last name of Star was common enough amongst the inhabitants of Port Luz and she’d already been there. Always better to amend existing information than create new.

Kate signed on to work as soon as she arrived in one of the largest hangars within the distribution hub. All she had to do was work, and there was plenty of it about. Pushing carts of Port Luz goods from hangar to hangar for distribution became her life, punctuated only by going back to her cramped cabin as little as possible, and sleeping. Her productivity caught the attention of the hangar manager, simply called Boss, who promoted her into the small team responsible for pulling priority cargoes. She developed a reputation as being the first to volunteer to do an extra shift, the first to offer to step in if someone needed time to do something urgently.

“Jeez, Katie, don’t you sleep?” someone asked.

“Not if I can help it.” She smiled back bleakly. Sleep brought dreams.

The giant vidscreens in the hangars and concourses flickered continuously throughout the day and night shifts. Kate would half-listen to them as she went about her business. Intergalactic spat—woman on Siega 4 with her blue dog—GEF put down unrest on Colony Planet 3. It connected her in a way to her old life. Occasionally familiar words or phrases would filter through to her consciousness as she moved items from ship to hangar and back.

She was walking backwards, guiding a load piloted by one of her younger female colleagues, Minou.

Woman on Siega 4 had blue dog stolen—Intergalactic spat resolved—Rim Lord Danyeo attending high level meetings with the Galaxy Elite Fleet over border dispute—new colony on…

“He’s a looker,” Minou said as she manhandled the pallet off the transport into the aisle whilst looking up at the vidscreen.

Kate could only stop and stare at the screen, drinking in the sight of him. Where was Ren? How dare Danyeo look so well, when she was so…thoroughly miserable.

“Hey, Kate…you okay, girl? You’ve gone pale.”

Kate nodded, aware of feeling numb.

“Ladies, have you finished that order? If not, get on with your work,” Boss shouted.

“You sure you’re okay, girl?” Minou squeezed Kate’s shoulder, concern in her voice.

“I’m fine.” Kate smiled bracingly. “Never better.”

She went back to her cabin at the end of her shift and wept.

Chapter Fourteen

It was a stupid accident.

One of the docking screens blew out on hangar thirteen because someone had not reset it properly.

Minou was sucked out. Her vac suit inflated almost immediately as she entered the vacuum of space. Kate did not think, did not hesitate. She was on a safety harness as she had been scaling the cargo above floor level and instinctively lunged for her friend as she shot past. By a chance in a million Kate caught her and both women were thrown out into space beyond the hangar docking port, their progress only slightly slowed when the harness caught and stretched before breaking the cable that attached them to the hangar wall. Kate had hoped that their momentum would not prove too much for the cable. No chance. It would seem she had used up all her luck when she caught Minou on her way out.

Hell, thought Kate as she held on grimly to a panicking Minou, how could you forget how cold space was, so quickly?

“Don’t panic,” she repeatedly told the struggling woman. “Stop struggling and conserve your air.”

It took some time for the younger woman to calm down, and even longer for her to start to make sense.

“Katie, are we going to die?”

“The harness has a locator chip in it. If someone passes within range they’ll spot us as long as I keep a hold of you and we do not get separated.”

The problem was that space was so big, and hangar thirteen was one of the more remote facilities, there was a distinct possibility that they would be missed and not located until they had run out of breathable air.

“How do you know stuff like that Kate?” Minou asked her. “Boss jokes that you must be some type of GEF agent.”

“No, no chance of that,” said Kate. “Boss should know better than to say something as stupid as that.”

The pair of them drifted for a while, slowly getting colder and colder as the vac suits had less and less heat to conserve. Minou’s teeth started chattering, but she still held on tightly to Kate’s arm.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be found,” Minou assured her.

“We will if someone really wants to find us,” Kate replied hesitantly, her first doubts about whether they would be picked up finally starting to set in after hours of reassuring her companion.

“Freddie will find me.” Minou shivered fiercely. “Freddie would move stars to find me.”

Freddie was Minou’s fiancé. Almost as broad as he was tall, a buff, handsome man of few words, but he was a man who obviously worshipped the ground her companion walked on.

“You are very lucky, Minou,” Kate told her, “to know he would be so determined to get you back.”

“Have you ever been in love, Kate?”

Kate paused, shrugged then nodded slowly.

“Didn’t work out?” Minou asked, her breath starting to frost the helmet so that Kate could scarcely see her face. “It was a secret?”

“No,” Kate said, too anxious about Minou not to answer. “Family just didn’t like me.”

Neither of them, she added silently.

They then both fell silent, and as her helmet iced up too, Kate became aware of drifting in and out of consciousness as her breathing became more laboured.

No regrets. It was a liberating last thought. I am not about to regret one thing that has happened, Kate decided hazily as she lingered on the thin line between consciousness and passing out.

Freddie did not let them down. It was a redirected freighter that found them drifting in space. Kate was dimly aware of the huge metal beast lumbering up beside them, and of them being hauled on board.

They were safe at last.

* * * *

On their return to Port Luz there was something of a welcome committee.

Fully recovered from her ordeal, Minou threw herself into the arms of a waiting Freddie with a squeal of delight. Kate felt somewhat overwhelmed by the huge number of people trying to push close.

“Katie saved my life,” Minou shouted above the din. Katie found herself propelled forward. People were slapping her back. “I would have died without Katie Star. She was amazing—she dived out of the hangar door after me and told me not to panic.”

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I simply caught you as you sailed past,” she pointed out.

Without warning, a light flashed in her face, and she was momentarily blinded. She could not see a thing, it was so bright.

“So, how does it feel to be a hero, Katie?” The distinctive voice of a vidnews reporter asked her.

* * * *

Kate was bruised and battered, but returned to work anyway. She had no wish to sit in her cabin and stare at the walls. The devoted Freddie was not about to let Minou from his sight, so Kate had been set to working with the rest of the team instead of in a pair. It was the same old, same old. Pushing and pulling priority cargoes from hangar to hangar.

Maybe now was the time to ask about transferring to freight flights, to tell people of her flight qualifications, Kate mused. Make the most of her brief celebrity on Port Luz to progress.

The vidscreens flickered on—blue dog recovered by woman on Siega 4—Intergalactic argument reignites—Rim Lord Danyeo accedes to head of Danyeo Collective after brief power struggle—Daring rescue on Port Luz…

Oh. My. God.

Filled with dread, Kate turned her gaze upwards to the massive vidscreen above her head. She watched as the screen was dominated by the dishevelled but still beautiful Minou saying, “Katie saved my life. She is a hero.”

Minou then pulled forward a pale, startled, thin-faced character she called Katie Star.

The white-faced ghost with straggly hair didn’t look much like her, Kate thought as she stared at her image, only just recognising herself as the woman next to Minou.

I look awful, she thought.

Kate became aware of her colleagues stopping behind her and one by one starting to look at the vidscreen as well.

“You are on the news, Katie,” one said. “Would you look at that.”

“Well I never,” said another.

“Get on with your work, you lot,” Boss called out.

“Katie’s on the vidscreen, Boss,” they told him.

Boss looked up at the screen and Kate’s giant image as she avoided answering the interviewer’s questions.

“You look knackered,” he said as he looked at her image.

“I do look terrible,” Kate said shortly, tugging her gloves back on and going back to pulling out crates.

It was better that way. No one would recognise her.

Chapter Fifteen

Port Luz was a warehouse hub on the boundary of the outer Rim. It was an anonymous place, run by a commercial organisation rather than a military one. Anyone could dock there if they had the money to pay.

It was particularly expensive to dock large military vessels, mainly due to the associated administrative work that went with their presence.

But they still appeared over the next twenty-four standard hours.

Battle cruiser class ships entered Port Luz space at what seemed to be almost set intervals. Elegant, sleek and deadly, they were docking right the way across the hub. It was not uncommon to see one or two on the odd occasion. What was uncommon was to see in number what amounted to a private fleet of such deadly craft in one place.

Minou was sitting with Kate in one of the more respectable bars on Luz, looking at the spectacle from one of the gallery windows.

“What do you think, Katie?” Minou asked her.

“I don’t recognise them,” Kate replied honestly. “Not Rim as far as I know, definitely not GEF. But there are a lot of them.”

“Freddie thinks it is an invasion force of some type.”

“That is ridiculous. Who are they going to invade? Luz is a long way from anywhere, and the administration would hardly let them restock if they were a threat to supply relations with either the GEF or the Rim authorities.

“No. I think it’s a show of strength for some reason. Either they are on their way to impress someone or coming back from doing so.”

Kate’s commlink crackled into life.

“Have you finished your break, Star?” Boss’s words were to the point. “Being late back is a piss poor way of showing me your leadership potential.”

The ex-GEF commander, hotly tipped at one time to become the youngest sector leader ever in fleet history, managed to bite back the overwhelming urge to laugh.

She had changed.

“We’re on our way.” Kate followed Minou to her feet. The pilot in Kate could not resist one last long look at the sleek battleships.

They were beautiful. Deadly craft, but at the same time magnificent. Clear of distinguishing colours, the form, elegance, grace and symmetry of the craft’s lines were all the more apparent to the experienced eye.

Kate sighed, turned on her heel and returned to pushing cargo.

Working to negotiate a particularly awkward pallet down the far aisle of hangar thirteen, Kate became aware of an uneasy feeling. She shook it off, as she had been feeling uncomfortable in this particular hangar ever since the accident. She found that she simply did not trust the door engineering anymore.

It was a quite reasonable reaction, she told herself.

Then she realised that the overhead vidscreen had been switched off without her even noticing it. During her time on Port Luz the vidscreens had not been off once, not even for maintenance. The silence was deafening, so used was she to the constant background noise of the thing.

Her commlink suddenly buzzed to life, its crackling sound startlingly loud.

“Kate.” Boss’s voice sounded strained. “Can you come to the front of the bay?” There followed an odd pause until he said, “Please?”

Boss never said please. Kate had for some time believed he simply did not have it in his vocabulary. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled upright as she started to move warily to the location he had specified.

Kate paced down the central aisle of the hangar. The central was a long, straight approach that bisected the massive hangar in two and could take as long as five to ten minutes to travel on foot.

Ahead under the bright spotlight that illuminated the exit to hangar thirteen she could clearly see a group of some twenty people standing there watching her approach.

Kate kept walking, watching the group ahead as she stowed her work gloves in the back pockets of her overall and hung her cable cutters within easy reach on her utility belt in case things took a turn for the worse. She made a note to put an extra hole in her belt as it was hanging too low to pull the cable cutters out to use as a weapon if need be. As she drew closer, she started to think she was finally seeing things.

Slowing, she asked, “Boss, did you want to see me?”

After all that had happened, it was hardly surprising if a few hallucinations had started to creep into her waking hours. And it would appear that today was the day.

The group surrounding Boss included a formidable contingent of Rim paratroopers clad in the distinctive black and grey of the Danyeo collective.

At the head of the group were Dom and Ren, armed to the teeth in full combat dress, their faces so stern that Kate almost did not recognise them.

Kate felt faint as she took in the vision before her. It was very realistic.

“Are you expecting trouble?” she asked, blinking rapidly in an effort to allow reality to reassert itself.

Her disbelief at the meeting seemed mirrored in the face of the two men dressed as if ready for a war.

In her hallucination, Dom stepped forward and swept her into his arms, burying his face in her neck as he did so. He held her there, quite still, for several minutes as if he was attempting to master his reaction to her appearance before he moved.

Her knees seemed to lose some of their bounce and she sagged as she continued to step forward, stumbling slightly into Dom as if she had not expected to encounter anything solid at all.

He’s really here, Kate suddenly realised, numb. He’s real.

“Kate.” He held her so tight she could scarcely move. When Ren joined to embrace the pair of them, she was in danger of being spectacularly crushed by some serious body armour.

“Katie,” Ren whispered into her hair.

“It’s you,” Kate gasped. “It’s really you!”

She didn’t care if they crushed her—at least she’d die happy.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Minou had just returned with a fresh set of pallets. “Let Katie go.”

“Kate?” Dom’s voice was softer than she remembered. “Do you want us to let you go?”

“Say now, Katie,” agreed Ren, but they both released her from their close embrace immediately, not even retaining their hold on her arms. Ren stepped behind her to stand at Dom’s shoulder as they both faced the suspicious crowd of warehouse personnel with their platoon of Rim Troopers at their backs.

“Are you okay, Katie?” Ren whispered. His face was as shadowed and stern as she had ever seen it. He seemed unable to not reach out and touch her hand, then her arm as if he found it hard to believe she was real. Gone was the happy-go-lucky individual she was so used to. “We thought they’d had you killed.”

“Killed dead?”

“The GEF implied as much, Katie.” Ren raised a hand to his face and rubbed it hard. “I cannot believe that I am standing here talking to you!” With a sudden whoop he grabbed her and spun her round and round until she was laughing, shouting she was going to be sick.

When Ren returned her to her feet the assembled warehouse crews had visibly relaxed. Kate felt touched at the crew’s protective stance.

“Then how did you find me?” Kate asked them.

“The GEF and the ISS were posturing. In truth they were not sure where you were.”

“They changed their story, just like that?”

“It was in their interests to.” Ren grinned. “We informed them that if it was indeed the case, that they had somehow condoned the assassination of the betrothed of the two first leaders of the Rim. Then that’s war, as it’s a contravention of…”

“Assassination of the betrothed?” Kate asked. Surely she must have misheard the word, betrothed. Then her face must have indicated she also registered war.

“It was a serious threat. But don’t worry. They saw the error of their ways and have been really helpful in helping to locate you.”

“You did a bloody excellent job of covering your tracks,” Dom growled. “Now we are here it seems obvious that this is one of the first places we should have looked. We looked everywhere else with no luck. Until the vidcast.” Dom shook his head. “A vidcast. And it had to be that vidcast, some daring life or death rescue on Port Luz. Once we had recovered from the shock of almost losing you twice…” Dom seemed to be warming to his theme until he was interrupted by a cough from Ren.

“Ah, Dom, we still need to ask.” Ren shook his head at Dom and held up Kate’s hand in his.

“Hell.” Dom took her other hand. “Well, Kate? Are you prepared to accept our offer?”

Kate could only stare at them open mouthed.

“Omigod!” Minou started to laugh. “Omigod, Kate…is this your secret?”

“A betrothal?” she asked, her jaw feeling worryingly loose. “To both of you?”

“Marriage. That’s how it works on the Rim,” Ren told her gently. “You know, when people love each other and can’t seem to live without them.”

“Will it not put you both in danger?” she asked them. “Because I am not about to run the risk of losing either of you to a civil war or an assassin’s knife because you chose me.”

“While we have been looking for you, Kate, Ren and myself have worked hard to consolidate our positions within the Rim political arena. If you agree to join with us, you will not regret it,” Dom told her, a wry twist to his mouth…

The battleships currently docked at Luz were theirs, she suddenly realised.

“You make it sound like a mutually beneficial alliance,” Kate observed drily, starting to feel reluctantly overwhelmed.

“It is,” Dom told her. “And its bedrock is the fact we can’t seem to live without you.”

“Do you accept then, Kate?” Ren asked her.

Kate looked from one to the other. Could she do this?

She desperately wanted to. She’d never wanted anything as much as this.

“Oh yes. Okay then, let’s do it,” Kate capitulated, aware of suffocating warmth in the region of her heart. “Just don’t make me regret this, you two. I would very much like to be the betrothed of the first leaders of the Rim, or was it the two first leaders of the Rim?” She took a breath, “My, what a mouthful.”

“We have that reputation,” advised Dom.

About the Author

I’m British and live by the sea just outside Brighton in West Sussex. I’ve been lucky enough to have a huge range of occupations ranging from being a top European IT consultant through to mother of three. My jobs in the past have invariably involved a lot of travel and thinking up long involved plots, along with feisty heroines and controlling heroes, has always been a favourite way of mine to make time pass when I have been sitting at the wheel of a car or on a train.

I’ve a soft spot for happy endings, with characters who get what they deserve and with lots of sauciness on the way.

Hopefully you’ll enjoy the same things I do.

Email: SophieAngmering@gmail.com

Sophie loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Total-E-Bound Publishing

www.total-e-bound.com

Take a look at our exciting range of literagasmic™

erotic romance titles and discover pure quality

at Total-E-Bound.

Table of Contents

Start