Fusion (Crimson Romance)

by Candace Sams

  But whatever he’d say in the loneliness after Aigean and her crew left would be too personal. She wasn’t sure she could handle such emotional intimacy along with the demands of the mission.

  He brushed back her hair and gazed down into her eyes.

  She didn’t move.

  Slowly, as if there was some precious meaning to the act, he reached for the golden armband on his right bicep. After pushing a locking mechanism the four-inch-wide piece of metal sprung open.

  She swallowed hard as he carefully and reverently put it around her left bicep and closed it. His gentleness while completing the task was one of the sweetest moments she’d ever shared with anyone. His demeanor was that of a prayerful penitent.

  After it was around the upper part of her arm, she gazed down at the elaborate, golden ornament and was about to tell him the band was far too large. His hand was still holding it in place. It would never stay where he’d put it. And given its expense and intrinsic worth, it was appropriate to give it back. For as long as the Condorians would let him keep it and wouldn’t steal it from him — perhaps taking his arms off to get the pair — he should be the one to keep such treasure. Her lips parted to tell him so, but a strange thing happened.

  As he held it in place the armband quickly molded around her upper arm. It seemed to attach itself to her bicep as it had to his. In fact, the device was so light that she barely felt its presence. Nor could she tell where the newly closed ends met. When she passed her right palm over it, the band actually felt as if it was part of her body.

  “What are you doing?” she asked and tried to push the object off.

  “You can’t remove it. I alone know the locking sequence on the dragon design,” he told her. “I chose it when the bands were placed on me, during the celebration of my thirteenth year. The alloy is the most precious of its kind in the universe. In your language it’s called fusion gold. It naturally conforms to your body like a second skin. The silver dragon on the band is pure Aladium.” He briefly put his hand over the band still remaining on his left bicep. “This marks you as a member of the Nar household.”

  “I … I don’t understand.”

  “Some Craetorians wear these to mark their lineage. If we were to survive, you’d never see another pair just like them. Not unless that other individual was part of my family.”

  She swallowed hard. “Why would you gift me with something so precious? Why would you even risk bringing them into a war zone? You know what Condorian scum do to get anything they value.”

  He smiled. “Let’s just call them good luck charms, shall we? As for my wearing them into a fight … I don’t. They’d usually be left with my personal belongings, to be sent back to my family if anything happened to me. But when I got word of this mission, I put them on. It would be expected that any man or woman from Craetoria owning such ornaments would wear them. Especially if they weren’t going into battle. The Condorians know the custom. By donning them, they’ll assume I mean no hostility.” He gazed down at the band on her arm. “I know they’ll be taken if this mission goes badly, and that’s a deep regret. But in the long run, if some miracle doesn’t happen to save us all, the Condorians would get them anyway. And many more just like them.”

  “So wearing them marks you as neutral? You’re demonstrating that you won’t fight and therefore don’t expect them to be taken?” she asked.

  Soldar nodded once in confirmation. “It probably won’t work, but every signal I can send indicating I’m not hostile is worth the chance.”

  Lyra gazed up at the brightness of his perfect smile and realized what she hadn’t a moment before. This was the first time she’d ever seen that beautiful expression on his face and wondered at the way it made him look rather boyish. For that instant he was not the stern officer she’d first encountered. She felt herself smiling back at him. “I don’t understand its significance on me.”

  “As I said, the bands are supposed to bring great fortune.”

  She kept gazing up at him with suspicion. “You’re trying to somehow show a connection so the Condorians think twice about approaching me … aren’t you?” She shook her head in denial. “That’s crazy. They wouldn’t think twice about killing you if they wanted me and you stood in the way.”

  He simply shrugged. “If you’d save a laser volley so the enemy couldn’t take you alive, why turn down a lovely piece of jewelry that might keep you safe? As I’ve said, the ploy isn’t likely to work,” he admitted. “Condorians don’t value a man’s claim on a woman. But these are officers. They tout themselves as being above the common rabble they command.” He touched her armband again. “If there’s any chance this can make a difference to your safety … any chance at all … then I want you to wear it.”

  Now she was annoyed. “I’m a fighter, just like you. I don’t want special treatment because I’m a woman. All I ever asked for was to die without being raped if it came down to it. I can take care of myself, sir.”

  He ran one hand through her hair then cupped her cheeks between his palms. “Do you know why I hesitated to communicate in that cave?”

  “I thought there was something wrong with your translation device, that you didn’t understand Earth English.”

  He shook his head. “I was shocked into silence. The men of my world don’t allow our women to fight, though I’m fully aware other allied planets do. My first inclination, on learning there was a woman under all that armor, was that I’d have moved mountains to keep you safe … if you were mine. You’d have never been allowed into battle.”

  “I’d heard your women don’t fight. Don’t they want to?” she asked. “Don’t they have as much to lose?”

  “Our women are among the fiercest warriors in the known universe. I once saw my mother throw a spear and hit a target no one else could see until it was struck. And she accomplished that while mounted on a running unicorn.”

  “Then I don’t understand — ”

  “On Craetoria, there are roughly five men to every woman. By our Creator’s will it’s always been that way. It’s for this reason that we can’t risk them. And for the same reason they agree to stay home, safe for the time being. If our race is to continue, they know we have to preserve the givers of life,” he explained.

  There was a long pause between them. She finally broke it.

  “In the badlands, you mentioned your family back home. Are there any women of fighting age?” she asked.

  “No,” he told her with a slow shake of his head. “My family is large. I have been exceedingly blessed. My parents and grandparents still live. I have three younger sisters and many male cousins. But most of my kin are too young to fight. Eventually they all will and they will all die. In you, I see their heart and spirit. I see what’s left of our future.” He looked away for a moment before turning his gaze back to lock with hers. “All of this is why I put the band of Nar on your arm. I’d have done this for any woman who was working with me, had such a mixed-gender team been conceived. You and I are that team. And here we shall do our best to hold off the inevitable. We must fight for as long as we can and pray for a miracle.”

  “If we don’t get it, we’re all dead. Everyone who stood against the Condorians will be decimated. The neutral worlds won’t last much longer.”

  “I agree. But if it’s any consolation where we’re concerned, Condorian men know one thing about the males of my planet.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled her into his embrace. “When they see that band on your arm, they’ll know we’re not just a sex act. They will assume you’re my mate, and that to harm you is to insult me. If this should ever happen, they know I’ll find the offending party and kill him!”

  “Sir, you might have asked or explained before attaching this thing to my arm.”

  “Consider the wearing of it a battlefield order. I locked it on
suspecting you’d disagree. So the choice has been made for you, Lyra.”

  She glanced down at the lovely gift once more. The man was insistent that while any chance for safety existed, he meant for her to take it. “It is exquisite. I guess I’ve been asked to do worse things than wear jewelry.” She slowly smiled and tilted her head into the palm of his large, warm hand.

  “The odds are against us. But if we get out of this, you can give it back. Do we have a deal?”

  She considered that. “All right, sir … it’s a deal.” She held out her hand to seal the bargain.

  Soldar looked down at the extended palm. “First … quit calling me sir. Second … a handshake is a bit platonic considering what we’ve just shared. I think this is more in keeping with the moment.” He pulled her into his embrace, slid his lips against hers, and kissed her passionately. At the same time, he ran his hands over her body and moved his chest against her breasts.

  Someone cleared their throat, indicating they weren’t alone. Lyra broke the embrace to find Aigean watching. “Lyra, I suggest you shower. My women will help you prepare before dining.”

  Soldar stood there glaring at Aigean. His jaw visibly tightened and his eyes narrowed.

  “I’d never get either of you to stage tonight if I left you alone,” Aigean defended. “Besides, there’s news I must share with you, Soldar. We can talk while Lyra gets ready. Then you may take your turn cleansing. Remember, you must perform tonight. You must look refreshed and ready.”

  • • •

  Aigean waited until Lyra was on her way to the bathing area, accompanied by several servants. Then she spoke hurriedly. “Some of my people were ordered to help the Condorians loot the remains of dead allied soldiers today. These would be the same freedom fighters that died in the battle at Plageian Escarpment. It’s some distance from here so I’ve just received word from my employees that — ”

  “Who gave the command to disturb the dead?” he demanded, outraged by the act of desecration. It wasn’t as if enemy looting didn’t happen after every battle, but this time he could at least get a name. Perhaps there’d be a way to punish the responsible party.

  “It was Admiral D’uhr who gave the command; we could hardly refuse.”

  “Did the Admiral’s butchers find survivors? I can imagine what he had done to them,” Soldar muttered.

  A slow smile spread across Aigean’s face.

  He stared down at her, barely able to believe what she might confirm.

  “There are survivors,” she told him, “but D’uhr doesn’t know about them, and never will if we don’t want to be marched into the badlands and murdered.”

  Soldar stepped toward her “Tell me your news!”

  Aigean anxiously clasped her hands. “When I heard my employees were being ordered to scrounge for D’uhr again, I did what I normally do … I had the only remaining crates in my inventory loaded on our transport craft. These crates look like any other large shipping containers, but they’re not. I once used them to avoid tariffs on wine and silks. They have false bottoms that are quite large. My crew knows about them though the Condorians don’t. I suspect their size and weight make them too much of an encumbrance for the enemy to inspect. If they had, they’d have found the hidden compartments.”

  “Go on.”

  “For obvious reasons, my people didn’t communicate with this ship when they found fifteen allied soldiers alive. The fighters were unconscious, lying near each other, and hidden behind a shattered bulkhead. Apparently, they were casualties of a concussion device. At any rate … when my people on the ground found they were breathing, they coordinated efforts. Several of my pilots landed their cargo craft in such a way as to block the Condorians’ shuttle and a clear view from their transport bridge.”

  “You brought them to the Venus!” Even now, in the middle of this desolate sector of space, miracles happened. Ordinary people still fought by working together, using their wits, and honoring the dictates of their consciences.

  “Their maneuver wasn’t all that difficult,” Aigean told him. “Daylight was dwindling, narrowing visibility to a very short distance. And, as is usually the case when D’uhr orders these expeditions, the idiotic Condorian guards planted themselves on their shuttle and let my employees do all the work. They were drunk, under the influence of numerous drugs, and anxious to get back to the luxuries on this ship.” She carelessly shrugged. “They simply never investigated what was going on. But then they’ve always underestimated the capabilities of my people.”

  “How, by the Lords of Craetoria, did your crew get the survivors on the ship? How were you able to hide them without the Condorians finding out?”

  “The injured are now in my servants’ quarters and several other places. Since our living quarters have been ransacked and are practically barren, our captors see no reason to regularly visit them. They prefer to stay in the most luxurious surroundings on the upper levels. Knowing the admiral’s and the guards’ routines as they do, my people quietly spread the word among the rest of the crew. Laundry bins full of old linens were brought to the landing bay. This is nothing out of the ordinary since we always take refuse through that part of the ship. Our incinerators are beyond, in the aft.”

  “Those fools left the landing bay unguarded?”

  “No, but the crates were carefully off-loaded very near the far bulkhead, right where my crewmembers always direct the hover bins to the incinerators. They were actually going about the business of saving the injured while hiding between the crates and the bulkhead itself. The injured were removed very quietly and quickly. Then they were hovered off to various rooms for hiding.”

  He blinked and dragged his hands through his hair. “If D’uhr ever finds out — ”

  “He won’t. At least not any time soon. Even the fighters’ body armor was removed in those same hover bins then covered with more torn linen. By now, the incinerators must have destroyed every trace of allied survivors.”

  “Aigean … I-I don’t know what to say. I have misjudged you in many ways!”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s done is done. We can thank the Condorians for thinking so little of us. And as to what happens next, I can disguise the survivors as crewmembers. Assuming the more seriously injured recover.”

  “And how will you accomplish that? The enemy must know exactly how many people you have,” he reasoned.

  “They do. But I’ll use the same ruse Lyra will employ to enter the bridge.”

  “I don’t follow.” Clearly the woman’s plotting sprinted far ahead of his. But then she’d probably honed that skill swiftly. Her crew had survived because of her intellect. Apparently, they’d paid attention and learned some of her tricks.

  “As you may have noticed,” she softly explained, “the servants accompanying me earlier all wore dark blue robes and kept their hoods raised. Indeed, almost all my workers dress in this attire. The only exception to this rule is my prostitutes.”

  He nodded. “In anonymity they find a measure of protection. Even among the Condorians.”

  “Usually … if they make no trouble and do their jobs. The Condorians crave their comfort. They wish to be served. Our enslavement makes them feel superior. But one cannot be served by the dead, can they?”

  “That logic will only go so far.”

  She slowly nodded. “I know. Sooner or later, the admiral will demand another inspection of our personal quarters. But I can schedule everyone to be in various parts of the ship, allowing fifteen servants extra rest periods. I’m hoping the added bodies, scattered from bow to stern, won’t ever be noticed.”

  “And that’s how Lyra might have a chance?”

  “Only six servants bring food and beverages to the bridge. Six will enter tonight. Lyra will simply take the place of one who will be elsewhere,” Aigean confirmed.

  “An
d what about the immediate needs of those injured fighters? Do you have any medical staff?”

  Aigean nodded. “I have a very good medical technician. She’s seeing to the wounded, even as we speak. The problem is, while she has sufficient surgical equipment D’uhr impounded all the drugs from sick bay. He has them in his quarters. We believe he keeps them for personal use.”

  “He’s ill?”

  “Creator willing!” she viciously blurted. “But whether he is or not, he’s never contacted my med-tech for treatment. Some of his minions have, but the morphine isn’t available for use on any soldier. Not even his. It’s thought he covets the drug for recreational purposes or to sell at high prices on his home world.”

  “Is there any way one of the staff could get to the meds?”

  Sadness and anger were pasted on her countenance as she slowly shook her head. “D’uhr keeps them in a locked safe. It would be easy enough to break into, but the whole ship would suffer for the act. He’d go searching for what he assumes is his, room-to-room.”

  Soldar heartily agreed with that eventuality.

  “If it makes any difference, my crew will keep me constantly informed of those with dire needs. We’ll do whatever we can for them,” she promised. “My people are ready to approach certain Condorian quarters and use sex as a bribe. But this would only get us a small amount of recreational drugs.”

  Soldar stared into space before speaking again. “Say nothing to Lyra. She’s to know none of this.”

  • • •

  Lyra hadn’t yet entered the main area. She’d just finished her quick shower, and her makeup and dressing session with Aigean’s women. They were still in the bathing area, preparing it for Soldar’s cleansing. The sound of hushed voices prompted her to stop behind several layers of gauzy curtains. Some impulse made her eavesdrop on her superior, the man she’d so recently trusted with her life.