by Athena Storm
His eyes turn back to the Commander, who his making an effort to stand again. In answer to this, Duric delivers a stinging kick, sending Martek rolling on his back. With an easy stride, he makes his way to the groaning coward and aims another kick at his ribs.
“Please,” the Shorcu hisses, “Please.”
His hand is extended, pleading for mercy and a hand to stand him up. Duric looks at him curiously, then reaches out to clasp the hand. Martek’s other hand shot up to grip his gauntlet, pressing a button which ejected a dart, piercing Duric’s arm. Holding the button down firmly, Duric began to jerk. His legs caved and he crumpled to the ground as Martek rose over him.
Intent on the button, he was sending waves of electricity washing into Duric and rendering him powerless. I sailed across the room in a rage, pummeling Martek with my fists. Relenting in his attack, he spun around and planted a punch squarely in my chest, sending me staggering back to the floor.
My lungs sting with the blow and I’m struggling to force air into my chest. An angry red spot spreads where I took the hit, and I take the moment to square myself. No bones are broken. Get your wind back and get this monster.
Martek is triumphing over me, but behind him, Duric is coming to his feet. Seeing the change in my eyes, the Shorcu spins around, initiating more shocks before he even sees his nemesis. Duric is struggling to stay on his feet, fighting hard against the current to land a blow.
“Is this your love, woman? This helpless fool?”
He reaches out a foot and snatches Duric’s legs from under him. With a hideous thump, my warrior slams into the deck, skittering as he surrenders to the crackling inside him. Martek has begun to laugh, relishing his power over the struggling victim at his feet.
Something inside me gives way, and a titanic, blinding wrath rushes through me. I crouch low and snatch up the cable with the long needle once buried in my head. With a spring, I run full force into the back of this monster, forcing him to his knees.
Winding up with everything I have, I join my fists and slam the needle down into the back of Martek’s skull. His jaws snap open and a strangled gurgle claws from his throat. Leaning over him with all my weight, I press the base of the needle and it chases an agonizing journey deep into his brain.
He struggles, swinging wide to face me, his glassy eyes unseeing above his gaping mouth. Reeling back with all the strength I can muster, I aim a crushing kick squarely in his teeth and send the horrid villain crashing to his death.
Stretched out on the floor, Duric is panting. Watching me. The toll of the day hangs on him, and now that he can finally let down his guard, he looks haggard.
I stand over him for a minute, and we look into each other’s faces. More of the blood on his body is his than I initially registered. My heart sinks for him, and I crumple to the ground next to him, letting my hands wander over his battered body. Cataloguing the miseries that he has racked up for my sake. Giving over to my exploration, he closes his eyes and lets his pain pour into me.
Mine matches his. More than matches. We are partners in this moment.
Something like joy edges into my heart. We are alive. Bruised, yes. Bloodied, yes. But whole. At last, his hands still mine, and he opens his eyes to see tears running down my face in thick streams.
“Are you hurt,” his voice is thin. Almost inaudible.
“I’m happy.”
Duric closes his eyes tightly again, and tears peel down the sides of his face. His hands glide up along my arm, and he draws me down to him. We lie on the floor, cradling each other, each quietly crying tears of relief.
It’s very possible that I drift into sleep. Or pass out. It’s hard to say. But my mind comes back into itself at the feeling of his great, warm hand rubbing long strokes on my spine. I arch back into it, and his other hand, which has been holding mine, tiptoes down and flirts with my bare breast.
I smack him lightly.
“Dog.”
He chuckles at the rebuke, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to do that again. It seems a shame to waste the opportunity.” Batting his hand away, I can’t help but laugh at the childish little affection balanced against the deeper, more real consolation he’s rubbing into my back.
The two sides of his nature reveal themselves in that moment. The subtle, genuine caretaker constantly at war with the impish troublemaker. Though maddening, it’s an impossible combination to refuse. And I will never refuse it.
“Human woman,” he says, drawing my eyes up to his.
“You have to stop saving me like this.”
Thirty-Two
Duric
Daphne drops her make shift weapon and sways unevenly on her feet as she gazes down at me. My whole body is still wracked with spasms, but I’m gradually regaining control. She looks miserable, a bit depleted, and tears are streaming down her cheeks.
“Duric.” She drops into a crouch next to me, her face a mask of concern. I struggle to reassure her that my injuries, while impressive looking, are of the non lethal variety as she seems to struggle with herself. I believe she is torn between embracing me and not causing me further injury with her affections.
That, or she doesn’t want to get covered in Vakutan blood.
In either case, her desires outweigh her reason and she flings her arms around my neck and starts kissing me. Little grunts escape both of our throats, primal sounds conveying the intense relief we feel at being reunited.
“Did he hurt you?” is all I manage to utter before she smothers my mouth with a kiss.
“I’m fine.” She speaks between lip locks. “Just fine. Shorcu interrogation methods are brutal, but I was able to resist.”
“You were?” A sharp stab of jealousy stings me, but I quickly snuff it out. I should be happy that she didn’t break.
“It wasn’t easy.” Her face contorts with the memory of her recent agonies, both physical and mental. “Listen, Duric, I have to say something to you…”
Her voice is cut off by a crackling sound emanating from Martek’s belt. Slowly, with great effort, I heave myself to my feet and stalk over to his scaled yellow corpse. The crackling comes again, along with the tail end of a communique.
“—mander Martek, do you read? Rescue vessels have been dispatched, ETA one half solar cycle. Repeat, Rescue vessels have been dispatched—“
I turn off the comm unit and look up grimly at Daphne.
“Do you understand enough Grolgath tongue to get that?”
She nods, her eyes wide with fear.
“Yes. We’re going to have company soon.”
My mind races. We could try hiding in the jungle, but a Coalition rescue squad often comes equipped with the finest in scanning technology, the better to locate their fallen comrades. Our chances of survival would be slim at best. I gaze at the cursed mountain peak, which frustratingly remains a great distance away. No possible chance we could make it there before the Coalition forces arrive.
Did we fight so hard, and endure so much, only to face capture or death anyway? I feel like crying to my ancestors, asking them why they have forsaken us.
Then I recall what I know about the Shorcu. They’re devious and evil, but also craven and cowardly. I am willing to bet that Martek had a secret escape pod somewhere close to his command center.
“What are you doing?”
I turn back toward Daphne for a second and try to smile, though I’m overwhelmed with anxiety.
“Looking for a way off of this planet.”
She follows in my wake, and we ransack the command center. Sure enough, I find a keypad on the far wall, though without the code I can’t make it work. I slam my fist against the sturdy steel door and growl.
“We must get past this door, but how?”
I glance at Martek’s corpse and walk toward it.
“Perhaps he has the code somewhere on his person.”
“Maybe. You check him, I’ll see if I can hot wire the panel.”
“Can you do that?”
She grins, but her eyes r
emain fixed on the panel.
“I’m no computer tech, but this doesn’t look too complicated. Probably doesn’t need to be, since all he expected to keep out of here were Odex.”
I turn Martek over onto his back. His twisted, wide eyed face seems sleazy somehow even in death, so I can’t resist spitting on him. I manage to find a hidden blaster type weapon, and several devices I don’t recognize, but none of it gets me any closer to figuring out the code to the hidden chamber.
Fortunately, Daphne provides evidence of her genius once again. She manages to open the door, and as it slides back we find ourselves staring at a small shuttle, not much larger than your typical alliance quarters.
“Fortune smiles.” I head into the chamber and start examining the shuttle. My smile fades, and I kick the side of the hull. “And then betrays.”
“What’s wrong, Duric?”
“The shuttle has been damaged. Its atmospheric heat shielding is only functioning at twenty percent capacity. If we try to escape this moon’s gravity and reach open space, it may not hold together for the journey.”
Daphne frowns at the damaged shuttle, then turns to regard me.
“Can we repair it?”
“I don’t know. We can try.”
Between the two of us, we manage to cobble together enough parts and supplies to do a partial repair of the shields. Unfortunately, fifty percent is all we can muster out of the damaged device. The process eats up two precious hours, which is two more hours the Coalition rescue team has to zero in on the moon.
“I think this is as good as it’s going to get.”
“Agreed.” I open the shuttle’s side facing door and gesture toward it. “After you, my dear.”
I sit in the pilot’s chair, and she plops herself down at the navigation center.
“Pray to the ancestors that this engine starts.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
I shoot Daphne a confused glance, because I don’t see what intertwining her digits have to do with any of it, and then try the engine. It roars to life, humming steadily, and I pump my fist in the air in triumph.
“Yes. Now, she just has to hold together through the atmosphere.”
Daphne nods, smiling at our minor success but obviously still worried.
The blast doors fly off into the air, clattering down to the jungle floor, and then we raise into the air, creating a tremendous windstorm in a localized area. Some of the tusked reptiles dash off in the distance, disturbed by the noise generated by our flight.
Daphne looks out the cockpit, watching as the jungle dwindles below us like a many colored cloak spread out wide. The gas giant looms on the horizon, and I angle the shuttle upward to cut down on the friction it causes as it cuts through the atmosphere.
“Are we supposed to be shaking like this?”
I glance over at Daphne and shake my head.
“I’m uncertain. This shuttle design is one that is unfamiliar to me. However, all systems are holding—for now.”
“Ask your ancestors to give us a hand, if you would.”
“I already am.”
We streak through the navy blue sky, heading toward the stars above. The shaking increases, and Daphne screams as a section of the shuttle’s tapered nose breaks off and flies away.
There’s nothing I can do but go along for the ride. Our course is locked in, and all I can do is hope that we will make it. I turn to Daphne, who is holding on to her crash webbing with white knuckles.
“What were you going to say, down on the moon? In the command chamber?”
Her face scrunches up in confusion before realization dawns in her lovely brown eyes.
“Oh, I was going to tell you that you were right. The Ataxia Coalition is nothing like the Alliance. They are rotten and evil to the core, and I never should have compared them. I’m sorry.”
Daphne’s words, while welcome, only underscore that she’s not the only one who needs to apologize.
“I’m sorry as well. For being, well, for being an asshole using a human term.”
Daphne laughs nervously.
“It’s all right. I think everyone is an asshole sometimes. Besides, you’ve got so many other traits that more than make up for your brusque nature.”
Her gaze seems distant, and a ghost of a smile stretches her worried face.
“You’re clever, and determined, and tireless. You didn’t hesitate when it was time to act, and you saved me on more than one occasion.”
“We saved each other.”
She flashes me a smile, but then the shuttle is rocked by an explosion. Sparks fly from my console, and emergency lights flash all over the HUD.
“We just lost our rear stabilizers.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Since we don’t need to turn, no. Our structural integrity is sketchy, though.”
I glance over at her, and reach out to put my hand on top of her clenched fist.
“Daphne, we might not make it. If we’re going to die, I want you to know that I’m glad to have known you.”
“Glad to have known me?”
“Yes. You’re brilliant, a bit headstrong, but of good moral stock. The only thing that measures up to your intellect is your beauty.”
She smiles, and squeezes my hand back.
“I love you, Daphne Moebius.”
Daphne gasps, and a tear dribbles out of her eye.
“I love you, too, Duric.”
It has become impossible to chart our progress, because sensors are a chaotic mess of warning lights and the red nimbus burning around our nose obscures visual confirmation of our coordinates. Sweat pours off of both of us as the shuttle heats up. I suppose if I’m going to die, it might as well be with the woman I have come to love.
Suddenly, the shaking ceases. The red glow fades and I can see stars before us. Daphne and I yelp in triumph, and I can’t get the crash webbing off fast enough to embrace her.
As I hold her in my arms, I notice her long hair is drifting into a halo around her head. Chuckling, I pull away enough from our lip lock to speak.
“Artificial gravity is off line. Looks like it will be a weightless trip to Titanus Vox.”
“Hmm.” She starts unzipping my shirt. “I suppose we’ll have to occupy ourselves until then, won’t we?”
I smile, holding her along the curve of her spine.
“Woman, you are insatiable.”
Then I kiss her, and she melts into my embrace. We have survived. And now it’s time to celebrate.
Thirty-Three
Daphne
Peeling back his uniform, I can see the cuts and gashes more clearly. Despite them, the solidity of his body under my hands ignites my yearning. Stripping away his uniform with a ferocity that surprises me, my greedy hands worship every newly exposed patch of skin.
His cock swings free, still in the moment of swelling into fullness. Even with his trousers still clinging to his legs, I bury as much of him in my mouth as I can take. After the taxations of the day, the need to feel alive, to embrace every instant of being alive is consuming. In my passion, I force him back and we embark on a gentle spin, the world becoming a kaleidoscope around us.
Neither of us can help giggling, and I release him from my lips long enough to extricate his legs from his trousers, and wrestle out of my own clothes. The ragged opening in the front of my top will need to be addressed before we land, but there are other, more pressing matters to attend to.
The discarded clothes hang suspended around us as I push off from one of the chairs and ride my body in a long gentle graze across his. The softness of my skin greeting his tough, ridged hide is a dazzling sensation. It serves to fan my desire further, and I’m ready for the abandon.
As I am about to pass over his head, his hands catch my thighs, my hips, and he pulls me into the saddle of his shoulders. Dear god, how this man knows me. What I want. I wreath my legs around his neck to ensure that I won’t drift away from the bliss he’s about to best
ow on me.
Duric meets me with the same hunger I had for him, diving his nimble tongue deep inside me and teasing at the recesses of my sensuality. Lost in our weightless spin, my arms grope in vain for something to anchor me as Duric withdraws his tongue and begins to lash at the scalding button of my clit.
Doubling over to cling to his head, I give up almost immediately. Rearing up my hips to meet his attentions, my body disintegrates into orgasm. I writhe and flail, crying out his name. With nothing to hold me down and nothing to cling to but the lover hungrily feasting on me, a new level of abandon thunders through my body. There is no sensation but ecstasy. Nothing to encumber or distract from the pleasure, it consumes the entirety of my body and mind.
Incapable of more, I release the vice of my thighs against his head and push off, shuddering in a spiraling arc away from him. My legs rub against each other and my arms force themselves along my body, smoothing out the aftershocks of a nearly unbearable climax. The word climax seems so insufficient for what I’ve just experienced. All the words do. This is something unto itself, singular and permanent.
My eyes open to see Druic drifting lightly a few feet away, a beatific glow beaming at me with pure adoration. In that moment, one single thought broke through into my brain.
Dear, god, I am going to fuck this man.
Something in my face changes, because the same unholy determination settles in Duric’s eyes. Tipping forward, he plants his feet against the wall and dives for me like a tiger, sending my heart singing in my chest. We catch each other, and tumble in rapid, new directions as we both tug at each other until he is planted in the deepest part of my body.
Rocking into each other, we have nothing to brace against to enable the kind of ravenous pounding we each seem so desperate for. This is the universe telling us something new. In the vast canopy of silence, we allow ourselves the permission to be slow. To be deliberate. To invest our time in being wholly present, each for the other. Not seeking to chase each other’s pleasure to fruition, but to follow the lazy, wandering line of our mutual pleasure.