by L A Warren
Two men stood in front of the holographic display and spoke quietly to each other.
One pointed to the dim sphere. “Saphirah is silent. There’s no response to our hails.” Three small stars decorated his collar. When he saw her staring, his eyes narrowed and the muscles of his jaw bunched. “The Emperor is just ahead.”
High Tender Marcus kept her moving past the men.
She turned from the hologram to look where he indicated. Gregor faced away from her and wore his signature black trousers tucked into knee-high boots. A simple black shirt strained against the expanse of his muscular frame. A man with five stars on his collar took a gel-flimsy from Gregor and left with a bow. As if he sensed her from across the crowded room, Gregor's head snapped up. Dark shadows obscured his eyes and a scowl framed his lips.
“Sire.” The High Tender closed the distance, towing her behind him.
“Lord vlor’Vardhal, this is a surprise.” The dark foreboding visage vanished and Gregor’s expression softened. A smile replaced the scowl.
“Saphirah? When did this happen?” The quaver in the High Tender’s voice surprised Elise.
“We just received the news.” The scowl returned and Gregor’s eyes darkened.
“I understand.” High Tender Marcus glanced at Elise. “The Confinement Deck is too busy to watch over your s'vlor, and I am needed to care for the others.” He took a deep breath and gave her a little push. “I thought you might take her, but if you are too busy with command…” He glanced at the large holograph behind him with the spaghetti lines and frowned.
“There is nothing I can do about Saphirah,” Gregor said heavily. His voice shifted to a lighter tone. “I would, however, love to take care of my s’vlor.” He stretched out his hand.
She needed to convince Gregor she was willing to work with him, but found herself too numb to do much other than force a fake smile. Upon taking his hand, the familiar tingle jolted between them.
The High Tender glanced at their entwined fingers and ground his molars. He walked away without another word.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and brought up the mental imagery she’d decided to use when dealing with Gregor—she would be a willow bending in the wind.
Bend. Do not break. Survive at all costs.
This was how she would win, earn his trust and work to destroy him.
He pulled her close. “How do you feel?” An unusual tenderness threaded through his words.
“My head hurts.” It was the truth. The Activator, along with the braklav, had done a number to her head.
He kissed her temple and her suffering eased. “Do you want to rest, or are you up for a tour of the ship?”
A sudden relenting of her pain had her staring at him dumfounded. She blinked, then withdrew her hand and rubbed it where his lips had pressed against her skin. “Um…High Tender Marcus mentioned you might show me around the Gambit.”
The overly bright lights had dimmed. The harsh sounds had quieted. The throbbing in her temples had vanished with the press of his lips. The spike at the base of her skull, however, remained, no longer sharp and stabbing, but blunted.
“Are you okay?” The concern in his features reflected in the dance of the tattoo above his brow.
She rubbed at her temple. “How did you do that?”
He touched her forehead. “The bond does many things. It connects us. Taking your pain is but one small thing.”
“You took my pain?” How?
A tightness pinched the corners of his eyes and he furrowed his brow. She traced his jaw, just as surprised by her gesture as he was, if his sharp intake of his breath was any indication.
“I did.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“My opés, it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve suffered.”
She didn’t know what to say. He was her enemy and she shouldn’t be thanking him for anything, but she could use his uncharacteristic tenderness to her advantage. It was time to learn about her new world. Anything that could help in an escape was something she would use.
He glanced around. “This is the Command Deck. Come, let me show you the rest of the ship.” He led her to a wall, which opened with a whisper to form a doorway, and led her to the center of a small circular room.
She didn’t realize it was a lift-tube until the floor swiveled out from beneath her. In her surprise, she grabbed for the nearest solid support.
Gregor wrapped an arm around her waist and chuckled. “Sorry, opés, I forget this is all new to you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I have you. Do not fear. I will never let you fall.”
Her immediate instinct was to recoil, but a sickening burn of desire had her nuzzling into his embrace. The bond flared before she could temper her reaction. It took all her focus to not tilt her lips for a kiss.
Gregor seemed to interpret the way she clung to him as a fear of heights, because he tightened his hold. If he had leaned down to take that kiss, she would have been swept away.
He pulled her closer still. “I promise you will get used to all of this. I want you to feel comfortable in your new home.”
With their gentle descent, a soft wind blew against her cheeks. She leaned against his chest and inhaled his heady aroma the entire way down. He smelled too good to deny herself the small pleasure.
A platform swiveled out from the wall to form a floor, and a doorway appeared in the wall to let them out. Again, he led her out holding her hand. “You will enjoy this.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll try. At least my head doesn’t hurt so much anymore.” She gazed into his eyes and held them for a fleeting instant before turning her attention to where she gripped his arm.
He lifted her hand, kissed it softly, and then let go. “Things have been difficult for you, but they won’t always be this way. I promise this. I hope we can put aside our differences and enjoy each other’s company for the span of a day?”
Easy for him to say when he held all the power, but she didn’t dare tell him that.
Maybe he took her silence for assent, because he continued with his tour. “As you know, the Gambit is a torus. We started in Command and Control, located on the inside of the ring. We traveled along a major lift-tube, those move from the inside of the ship to the outside, and now we’re on the outermost edge of the ship. Minor lift tubes span the ship from top to bottom.”
She breathed in his scent and placed her hand on his arm, letting him lead. Touch, smell, and taste, he was irresistible, or rather the bond tying them together made him so.
“The ship is ten kilometers in diameter and one kilometer thick. The center of the torus is about two kilometers wide and is the foundation for the WOR-drive. Are you with me?”
She already knew most of this due to the virtual subroutines she’d let loose into the am-net to gather data, but she wasn’t supposed to know anything about the structure of the Gambit. That wasn’t on any of her approved lesson plans. “Major lift-tubes connect inside-to-outside."
He continued with a firm grip of her hand. "Minor lift-tubes span top-to-bottom levels. The pod circuit is a series of concentric transports running around the various levels encircling the entire ship.”
“Where are we going?”
“For a pod ride.” He grinned with enthusiasm.
“Stars?” She couldn’t help herself, but she wanted to see stars.
“Not stars. I’m going to show you WOR-space, or rather the WOR-bubble the fleet travels within.”
“Excuse me?”
“WOR-space is a construction of the fifth and sixth dimensions. The First Rank WOR create a bubble of three-dimensional space which encases the fleet while we travel. We call it a WOR-bubble.”
“Not very creative.”
The corner of his mouth tilted upward with her teasing. “No, but it works.”
“Is it gray?”
The grin slipped a little from his face.
“High Tender Marcus took me on a pod r
ide on the way to see you. Does flat and featureless kind of describe it?”
“He spoiled my surprise.”
The pout on Gregor's lips was almost endearing. Almost, but then she remembered all he'd put her through.
She shrugged. “Sorry. Honestly, he rushed me over so fast I didn’t get a chance to appreciate anything. I’d love to have another look. And you said the whole fleet travels in this bubble of space?”
“Of course.”
“So…can you fly between the different ships?”
This could be groundbreaking information. Not that she would be able to hide a thousand women inside the other ships of his fleet. They’d be found instantly, but it meant there was a way off Gambit. Actually, this meant a few things. There was nowhere to go while the Gambit travelled within this WOR-space bubble. However, the upside was there had to be transport ships within the holds of Gambit. This implied possibilities for getting off the ship when they exited WOR-space and entered normal space.
She couldn’t hide within the fleet, but among twenty worlds and thousands of colony ships, there had to be a safe haven somewhere.
All she had to do was find this flight deck, a large enough transport ship, and a pilot willing to commit treason against an empire, or one she could threaten with whatever psychic abilities Gregor intended to train her in. While sounding preposterous, attempting the impossible no longer phased her. She was up to the task.
“Oh, yes,” Gregor said. “There are several flight decks on all the ships.”
“And can you fly between the ships in this WOR-bubble?”
“There’s actually quite a bit of traffic back and forth, not to mention the jump-jet circuit.”
“I’d love to see one of your hangars.”
He shook his head. “Not today. They’re too far for the time we have. I don’t want to stress you. Maybe another time.”
Another time then, but she could see the pieces falling together. One huge problem loomed before her. No matter what she did, her success depended on learning the WOR-skill. To do that, she would have to work with Gregor.
Her tour continued and she soaked up everything.
Life support was nothing like she envisioned. Biologically minded, the Vendel designed the bulk of life support into the structure of their walls and ceilings. Tiny bacteria constantly processed carbon dioxide into oxygen within the spongy matrix. An army of bio-pods swarmed the ceilings, absorbing airborne contaminants, and returning the waste to vats for further recycling.
Gregor showed her how the biological machines traveled along pre-programmed routes and then returned through specialized corridors following a scent trail back to the vats. There were also larger bio-carts that managed most of the general janitorial duties. He stopped one and showed her the artificial eyes on the little dog-like box, but she didn’t care about that. It was the access corridors the bio-carts used which she found fascinating. They were the perfect size for a woman to crawl through.
He also explained how Confinement Deck clocks were off-set from Vendel ship-time by twelve hours. Day on the Confinement Deck was night for Vendel crew and vice versa.
“Why is that?”
“It makes it easier for the support staff.”
It was the only explanation he gave, although she figured it was easier on the support staff to serve sleeping WOR than awake captives.
After some time, he guided her to one of the Circumferential Parks for dinner. She remembered this park from their first time out. Although he said this was a different one, explaining how there were five parks spread out among the different top-to-bottom levels of the ship.
A picnic spread had been laid out for them. They nibbled on finger foods while he talked about his ship and the people on it. His pride in his people was evident from the way he spoke and in the respectful bows given to him everywhere they went. He walked his ship without an escort. No security team kept him safe. Crewman they passed greeted him with genuine smiles but didn't pause in their duties. They were respectful without being reverent, which had her looking at Gregor in a different light. Instead of a monster, was it possible Gregor was a benevolent ruler?
She nodded, murmuring mmm, and hmm, at appropriate intervals and found herself smiling with an ease that surprised her. She even managed to laugh at his jokes. It felt odd, like they were on a date, except he was the last person on Earth she’d want to spend time with.
Her stomach clenched at that thought. They were no longer on Earth.
After they ate, he took her on a stroll and pulled her off the main path to a row of bushes bursting with a riot of flowers. He plucked a vine from a plant teeming with hundreds of tiny white flowers and coiled it into a wreath.
“Come here.” A sweet, light fragrance filled the air as he settled the circlet over her head.
“It smells wonderful.”
“A beautiful flower for a beautiful woman.” He held her gaze and swept down to plant a lingering kiss on her lips. His mouth melded with hers, perfectly molded to match her lips.
The bond burst between them, powerful and unrelenting, but she had managed to master some semblance of control. As long as she didn’t deny the attraction their bond aroused, she could mute the potency of the connection. Gregor slid his hands into her hair, tilting the wreath. With his heady aroma of spice and musk, combined with the light floral scent of the flowers, her senses enflamed.
A deep rumble vibrated up from his chest. “Kiss me, Elise.”
Play it, play him, a strange voice whispered in her head. It won’t be so hard to give in.
She struggled to restrain her passion, knowing it would consume her if she allowed it, but that was hard with Gregor's moans eliciting an answering need within her. With great hesitancy, she pulled him close and lifted herself up on tiptoe. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she wound her fingers in his hair.
There was a momentary look of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a sense of triumph. He planted a trail of kisses from her brow to her eyelids, down her cheek, to the angle of her jaw, and finally back to her lips.
With a sigh, she parted her lips. His touch shocked her system and the bond spiked electricity down her nerves, lighting a path of desire to her core, rippling and tingling all the way to her fingers and toes.
Such a pleasant defeat.
He hauled her tight against his chest and ran his hands along her back, leaving a trail of blistering heat. She leaned into him while little shudders racked her body. Tilting her head back, she needed more and he deepened their kiss. He lifted her up against the hardened planes of his chest and the kiss became her universe.
Here was the true battle, but it was okay. For now, she needed him to believe she had surrendered. He had to think she was his. Only then could she learn what she needed from him. Later, when the time was right, when she was stronger and ready, she would fight. Until then, she would eagerly give in to his kisses and let him think she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
They kissed for many long moments. The fervent heat of his kisses turned his breathing ragged and deep. Only then did his grip on her waist loosen and he settled her back on her feet.
Why he didn’t take this moment further than a simple kiss?
Not once did he reach for her breasts, or cup her bottom, or move his hands anywhere below her waist.
The High Tender’s warning returned, as did Gregor’s odd oath that night in his quarters. Intimacy was forbidden until the Binding Ritual. Did that mean sex? Kissing seemed to be allowed, but what about petting? A hand job? What about a blowjob?
Perhaps it was something she could use to place a wedge between Gregor and the High Tender and rip them apart? If she could make Gregor break his oath, what would be the consequences?
She traced the outlines of his chest and built up the courage to proceed. The pleasurable sounds Gregor made, combined with the bond, ignited a firestorm of passion in her blood. A very small part of her mind screamed in revulsion, but oh, how her body wan
ted more.
A disembodied voice in her head shouted, Go, go, go!
She lifted on tiptoe to kiss him and slipped a hand to his belt, letting it linger there, then she very carefully brushed her fingers below his waistline feeling for the telltale sign of his arousal.
He grabbed her wrist with a strangled cry. “No opés, that must wait.”
A nibble of tiny kisses followed, and his low throaty chuckle gave her an answer. This boundary wasn’t one he wouldn’t cross. The kisses he laid down her neck had her moaning and clutching at the collar of his shirt. He twined a hand in her hair and pulled her head back, opening the curve of her neck to his assault. Her body betrayed her with every kiss, dragging her mind kicking and screaming up that steep cliff of arousal. How she wanted this man, but he remained the enemy, as difficult as that was to remember.
She swept her gaze up his body and remembered him saying something to High Tender Marcus about controlling her through the bond. Maybe he was using his kisses to manipulate her?
“Please, stop.” Terrified by how far she had fallen, she pushed against him.
It felt so right to be with him, as if she truly belonged in his arms, but if he gained any more control, she would be lost.
“You have no idea what this does to me," she said. Or how much it costs…
His eyes smoldered, heavy with passion. “Let it happen, feel the bond swell between us.”
“No!” She let out a strangled cry, horrified.
His brows drew together. “Do not pull away from me.”
He pressed his lips to hers and a sharp current spiked between them. His taste was electric and overpowering, an addictive drug she desired more than life itself.
Her fingers went to her throat and gripped the cool chain around her neck. How easy it was to forget. But she didn't. She didn't forget. She didn’t forgive. She didn't allow the needs of her body to overrule her soul.