by Roxie Ray
I plunged myself down on top of him suddenly, violently, feeling him pierce me all the way to my core. It was easier for me to take him inside me this time, and I gripped him as hard as I could, riding him hard and loving the way his body bucked and trembled beneath mine. I moved my pelvis forward so the top of his shaft could grind against my clit with each thrust.
“You are magnificent, Judy,” he hissed lustfully. “So gorgeous… so proud and strong…”
“So yours,” I added, lowering my lips to his neck and kissing it. For a moment, I was gripped by the temptation to bite into his flesh and drink his blood, despite my lack of fangs.
How much of Dhimurs was inside me after the bonding, I wondered?
I rocked back and forth on top of him, the rhythm coming to a head as the lust built up within me like a geyser about to erupt. Each time he tried to overpower me, to gain control, I pushed his arms back down and shook my head. This time, I was determined to have him my way, on my terms.
To show him just how strong my body and will really were. I loved that he let me.
Our hips crashed together urgently – and when my climax happened this time, it was like a dam breaking, soaking the sheets and Dhimurs' skin. His orgasm came at almost exactly the same time, filling me up, pouring up into me so deeply that I could nearly taste it.
Then I collapsed onto the bunk next to him, panting and sweating and giggling.
“Now are you ready to face Torqa?” he asked with a grin.
“Dhimurs,” I said, kissing him, “after that, I'm ready to face anything the universe can throw at me.”
Looking back, I shouldn't have been so sure.
23
Dhimurs
After we'd gotten dressed again, we went to the armory to equip ourselves. I helped Judy don Torqa's old armor, marveling at how good it looked on her. No doubt the sight of her in it would throw Torqa off – she'd probably be insulted and furious that a human would dare to wear it. At least, I hoped so. There was an old Valkredian warrior adage I'd always taken to heart: If your foe is quick-tempered, do all you can to anger them. In their rage, they were more prone to short sightedness and error.
Maybe the tactic would work, and maybe it wouldn't. But with such a crucial and uncertain battle so close at hand, we could use every edge possible.
On our way back to the command deck, Respen joined us.
“Well?” I asked. “Did it work?”
He beamed at me. “Yes, it did. Everything should proceed according to plan, as long as we can buy enough time.”
“Excellent.”
When we got to the command deck, the rest of the crew was waiting for us. Surge was holding a small box. “Psychic inhibitor implants,” he explained. “We Valkredians are disciplined in certain mental defenses to block our thoughts from others, but Torqa's been trained to circumvent them. These are the only way to be certain that she won't read our minds and know that we've set a trap for her.”
“Good idea,” I said.
Surge carefully injected the implants into each of our temples, and then into his own. They caused a faint headache and scrambled my own psychic abilities as well, but maintaining the element of surprise was worth it.
“Are our engines operational?” I asked Thezis.
“Yes, we should be able to reach Cexiea in time to meet Torqa's deadline… no thanks to him,” he sneered, jerking a bandaged thumb in Vahmi's direction.
“I already said I was sorry for panicking when the spike hit us, didn't I?” Vahmi replied plaintively. “I told you, it won't happen again!”
“It had better not,” I assured him, “or I'll kill you myself before Torqa has a chance to. Now set a course for the station, maximum speed.”
There was still enough damage to the Wrath to make it shake and shudder beneath us as our engines hit apex velocity – there were moments when it got so bad that Judy looked as though she thought the vessel might tear itself apart en route. But as it turned out, we made it to Cexiea with minutes to spare.
Surge leaned over, whispering into my ear: “Dhimurs, before I installed the inhibitors, I sensed something hidden in your mind. Is there a part of this plan you haven't shared with the rest of us?”
“Yes. And for that, I apologize. But you must trust me, old friend. I have my reasons for keeping this information to myself for now. Reasons that will become apparent when the time comes.”
He nodded, straightening up again. We'd served together for so long – and proven our loyalty to each other so many times over – that he knew better than to question me further.
The space station rotated slowly on our view screen, surrounded by docked ships. Most of them matched the configurations of the Sives' clunky, patched-together monstrosities – but one of them, a hulking black vessel equipped with vicious-looking weapons arrays, was unmistakable.
The Dezmodon. Torqa's dreadnought.
“It doesn't look like she brought any other ships with her,” Surge pointed out.
“Maybe she's feeling overconfident,” Judy guessed.
“Or maybe she knows that thrice-damned thing can outgun the Wrath, even when it's not being held together with spit and shoelaces,” Thezis muttered.
“You know,” Vahmi said, “I think I preferred you a lot more when you didn't talk so much.”
I ignored them all and pressed on. “Whatever the reason, we still need to remain alert and ready for anything. Check your weapons to make sure they're fully charged, and let's do this. Respen, did you grab a blaster from the armory?”
“I don't use them,” he answered mildly. “As I told you before, Dhimurs, I don't believe in taking lives.”
“They have stun settings.”
“I realize that. Even so, I am a seer, not a soldier.”
“Well, it's your choice,” I said, “but if things go wrong down there, it'll be too late to change your mind.”
“I appreciate your concern. But if the worst should happen, I doubt adding one more gun to the equation will make any real difference, especially in the hands of someone as inexperienced as myself.”
“By the stars, can we please get this over with?” Vahmi begged. “Before I lose my nerve?”
I almost chose to berate him once more for his cowardice, and then thought better of it. I'd deal with him later. We didn't have any more time to lose. If we showed up late, Torqa might suspect we were planning something and decide to murder Ekaid and Lidea, and I could not let that happen.
It was now or never.
Vahmi signaled the station's docking coordinator – another Sive, and another habitual rax user from the sound of his voice – and received clearance to pilot the Wrath to an unoccupied airlock. If the coordinator knew why we were here, or that we'd enlisted his friends to assist us, he gave no sign.
Once the Wrath was secured, we marched onto the station, blasters at the ready. As usual, there were plenty of pirates, thieves, brigands, bounty hunters, and other assorted trash from almost every populated planet. The ones who weren't drinking, laughing, fighting, or making shady deals in dark corners were passed out on the floor in puddles of their own vomit. A couple of them were even lying lifeless in pools of blood, no doubt the result of having cheated or insulted the wrong people. There were food vendors selling horrid-looking, foul-smelling delicacies from carts and kiosks, and furtive aliens dealing in narcotics, stolen goods, and information.
Cexiea was perhaps the tackiest, gaudiest, ghastliest place in the entire galaxy. I couldn't blame Judy for never wanting to return here. I didn't, either – in fact, if I'd had my way, the whole damn station would have been blasted to space junk by the Valkredian armada decades ago. Perhaps, after the mission, I'd petition Akzun to allow me to do exactly that.
Except he probably won't agree to it. After all, he did meet his mate here. So did Zark. Hell, technically, so did I, for that matter.
Many of the aliens stared at Judy as we passed them, and I snarled at them, encouraging them to mind their own busines
s and keep walking. Privately, I wondered which sight was more curious to them: a human female walking freely about the station instead of working in The Vein as a slave, or one wearing ceremonial Valkredian armor.
A Drekkir staggered over, reeking of cheap booze and rax smoke. I bared my fangs at him, but he kept coming, oblivious to the implied threat. “Hey, that's some swell suit of armor you've got there!” he hiccupped, reaching out to touch the crimson plating with his stubby paws. “How much do you want for it?”
I pulled Judy away from him. “It is not for sale.”
“Fine, then, keep the armor… but what about the woman, huh? What's the price for her? Does she do any tricks, or…?”
I stepped forward and punched the Drekkir squarely in the nose. His eyes crossed and he went down on his back, his final hiccup trailing off into a watery belch before he lost consciousness.
“What a charming venue,” Surge said dryly.
I scanned the assorted scumbags and degenerates, looking for the Sives among them – identifiable from the complex symbols tattooed on their exposed skin, denoting their positions within the cartel, the crimes they specialized in, and whether they'd previously served prison sentences. I saw several of them, and when I made eye contact, they gave me subtle nods, flashing their hidden blasters and carefully moving themselves into position around us.
Good.
The bulkheads of the observation deck near The Vein were transparent, affording views of the vessels outside and the stars beyond them. Anywhere else, the sight might have been majestic, even breathtaking – but since the ships above and around us were mostly hideous Sive junkers, it gave the effect of being buried under a monstrous trash heap instead.
I heard Judy inhale sharply, and saw her entire body stiffen and tremble.
Torqa was just ahead of us. Next to her stood a Lunian with silvery skin and glowing red eyes, wearing a black robe and cowl. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of crooked black teeth.
He was holding a leash that was connected to collars around the necks of Ekaid and Lidea.
I'd known these two Macurians for a very long time. It was why I had trusted Judy to their care. They were warm, kind, friendly people – but strong and proud as well. Mighty hunters, and fierce guardians of their tribe.
After what Torqa had done to them, I could barely recognize them.
They had always been slender, but now they were pitifully stringy and scrawny, their muscles atrophied so severely that they were barely able to stand upright. Their peach-colored skin was crisscrossed with terrible scars, some of which were still fresh enough to have dried blood crusted over them. There were bruises and burn marks, too, inflicted by whatever electrical implement Torqa had been using to torture them during our transmission. Some of their tattoos had been viciously hacked off, including the ones related to their mating and their adoption of Judy – probably meant as a cruel joke, a way for Torqa to break their spirits.
Perhaps worst of all, though, were their eyes. They were senseless and cloudy from agony, the eyes of terrorized livestock about to be slaughtered.
“Stay strong,” I murmured to Judy. “One way or another, this will all be over soon.”
She nodded, but I could still see how upset she was. No doubt she was feeling guilty over having left them behind when she escaped the Dezmodon – which, I assumed, Torqa was counting on. She'd resort to any tactic, no matter how pitiless and horrible, to gain an advantage over her enemies. It was what had previously made her such a valuable asset to the Valkred Empire.
If Torqa was affected by the sight of Judy in her old armor, she gave no sign. Instead, she greeted us with a triumphant sneer. “At last, you've arrived. A few more minutes, and there's no telling what might have happened to poor Ekaid and Lidea.” Her focus shifted to Respen. “It's been a long time, seer.”
“Yes, Torqa, it has,” Respen replied calmly. “Since you stole the grimoire from me and allowed Zark to take the blame, as I recall. I would tell you I've been looking forward to encountering you again, but it would be a lie.”
Torqa gestured to the Lunian next to her. “This is Darqar, my most trusted aide.”
“Oh, we've met before.” Respen's expression remained neutral as he regarded Darqar, but his tone was soaked with disdain.
“Indeed we have,” Darqar spat. “When the Lunian Council of Elders met to determine my punishment for rejecting their pathetic asceticism, Respen cast the deciding vote to expel me from Yuluna and separate me from the universal energies that were my birthright.”
“Yet you seem to have found some alternate method of accessing them,” Respen answered.
“It cost me hundreds of years, millions of rula, and countless lives… but yes, eventually, I regained my power. No thanks to you.”
“Quite an accomplishment. And instead of using your second chance to seek redemption and rejoin your own people, you've chosen to squander it on Torqa's cloaking device. How sad.”
“Spare me your pity!” Darqar hissed. “I have no need of it! Soon, Torqa will be the ruler of the entire galaxy – and she has promised Yuluna to me, along with all of its cosmic artifacts! On that day, Respen, you will bow before me.”
“As the seer said in the fable, Darqar: we shall see.”
“We could stand here reminiscing and trading insults all day,” Torqa cut in, “but I suspect Judy would like to see her precious parents freed sooner, rather than later. Shall we proceed with the exchange, then? I'm eager to finally take possession of the Angel's Wrath, and I have plenty of lovely implements of torture waiting for you both on the Dezmodon, as Ekaid and Lidea will attest.” She turned to the other members of my crew. “As for the rest of you, I suppose you'll be able to book passage back to Valkred on some scavenger's scow.”
“They won't have to.” I turned my head, raising my voice. “Sives! Now!”
Sure enough, the Sives surrounding us sprang into action, drawing their blasters…
…and pointing them at us.
24
Judy
I couldn't believe my eyes. There were almost two-dozen blasters, leveled at us from every direction. Umel stood among them, his arms crossed, an evil grin on his lips. The damn Sives had double-crossed us.
And they weren't the only ones.
“I'll take these,” Vahmi said, yanking our weapons out of our hands and moving to stand next to Torqa smugly.
“So,” Dhimurs rumbled, scowling at him, “it seems we had a traitor in our midst all along. That was how you knew to use the communications array at Kenexa to get in touch with her. Not that nonsense you fed us about some childhood obsession with pirates.”
“Indeed,” Vahmi replied with a smirk. “I've been sending secret transmissions to her the whole time, making sure she was ten steps ahead of you.”
“Oh? And what has she promised you in return?”
“Can't you guess?” he laughed. “Why, I'm going to be a general! Torqa's going to put me in charge of the entire Valkredian military! I'll never have to take orders from thick headed, muscle-bound simpletons like you ever again. I'm going to usher in a new age of warfare… one that favors brains over brawn.”
“If you honestly believe that, you're a fool,” Surge snapped. “Torqa would never make a weak, sniveling poltroon like you head of Valkred’s fleet. I doubt she'd even trust you to scrub the waste disposal units on her ship. As soon as she's gotten what she needs from you, she'll vaporize you herself.”
“Tough talk from someone on the wrong end of a blaster,” Vahmi retorted.
I turned to Umel. “And what about you? What was your price for turning on us?”
“Besides adding a pretty blonde thing like you to my little harem?” Umel chuckled. “Dhimurs may be a swaggering, jackbooted cretin, but he was right about one thing… if we didn't find a way to get back into Torqa's good graces after rejecting her invitation to join her ranks before, there was no way she'd leave us alive after she was done enslaving the rest of the galaxy. So after
you contacted us, we offered to help her set you up. In exchange, all the rival syndicates will be wiped out, and we Sives will be free to conduct our business with no more interference from the authorities. We'll be rich beyond our wildest dreams.”
“I see,” Dhimurs said coolly.
Torqa tilted her head, frowning. “You don't seem surprised, Dhimurs. Or particularly concerned, for that matter. Why would that be, I wonder? Did you perhaps make a backup plan? Some last, desperate gambit, in case all else failed?”
She squinted for a moment, trying to concentrate. I realized she was trying to probe his mind.
“Psychic inhibitor implants?” She snickered. “Well, we can't have that, now can we? During this, our final showdown, I don't think there should be any secrets between us.”
Her hand went to the back of her belt, producing a thin, pen-shaped tool from a hidden compartment. She stepped forward and held the tool up to Dhimurs' temples, extracting the implants – and then tossing them to the floor and stomping them with her boot. “Let's try this again, shall we?”
Torqa stared Dhimurs down. It looked like he was trying to block her mental invasion, but based on his expression, she was wearing him down. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his face twitching and jerking like snakes beneath his skin. A thin sheen of perspiration formed on his forehead, and the veins in his neck stood out sharply.
“Your psychic abilities were never a match for mine, Dhimurs,” Torqa said. “You know it's pointless to resist. Whatever's in there, I'll find it eventually. So stop struggling, before you give yourself a brain bleed and…”
Suddenly, her words trailed off, and her eyes widened. She'd found what she was looking for.
“You can't be serious,” she whispered.
“Take a look out there, Torqa,” Dhimurs growled, nodding at the observation windows, “and you'll see just how serious I am.”
She did, and I followed her gaze, already knowing what sight was waiting for her.