Fusion (Crimson Romance)

by Candace Sams

  It served her well to have hurried through her bathing routine. Sol would never have said a word about the survivors. He knew she’d argue for helping them, but wanted her to keep to their original plan — sending messages from the bridge.

  As she saw it, both needs could be met. She wasn’t sure how, but if he didn’t trust her with all the information Aigean provided, then his desire to keep her in the dark was about to backfire. So long as she pretended not to know there were wounded fighters present, she had the same power he reserved. He couldn’t stop her if he didn’t know she had information.

  When it came time — and there’d soon be a chance — she was going to get to those drugs. Her own brothers might have needed them before they died. In rooms around this ship, other brothers, sisters, fathers, or mothers suffered. But the Craetorian Colonel was more concerned about messages he could get to HQ. She sadly considered he might even covet tributes for having completed this task, even if he was able to send just a few messages before being caught and killed. While his world survived, they’d mark him a hero if his actions saved lives. Especially since he was in command.

  Angry, but tamping the emotion down so he wouldn’t see it, she made sufficient noise and entered the main room. Sol turned and, from the rapt expression on his face, she knew the outfit Aigean’s women had chosen captured his full attention. The strange glow in his eyes might have been worth the trouble, but again she thought of the wounded lying so near. They’d been suffering while she was uninjured, eating wonderful food, and bathing in luxurious facilities.

  Soldar Nar had no right keeping such information from her. But she forced a smile on her face and posed for him, taking his mind off what he hadn’t told her and putting it squarely on her figure.

  If she could tempt a megalithic Craetorian warrior, how hard would it be to get close to a Condorian admiral? She’d bet the last breath that she could get somebody to give up medicine. Her only concern was how to go about this without actually letting the bastard touch her.

  She planted images of those injured in her brain. Her rage at being kept in the dark fueled her intent. I’ve got a new mission, Colonel Nar. And nothing’s keeping me from it.

  Chapter 6

  Soldar felt as if every cell in his body had been torched.

  Lyra stood in radiant glory, like a star shimmering in a midnight sky. Her already lovely features were now accented via some cosmetic expert’s hand. The sparkling blue-green eyes staring back at him were now shadowed with a smoky hue that made her appear exotic. To add to the breathtaking image, her skin had been dusted with some substance that shimmered in the dim light; her lips glowed with shiny red gloss that only accentuated their fullness. The shiny hair that normally curled just under her chin had been tucked behind each shell-like ear and her bangs softly fell just over her left eye. But it was the clothing she barely wore that almost made him drop to his knees.

  She’d donned a silver cropped halter top that was tied just behind her neck. The tall goddesses’ slender, defined abdomen and midriff were bare. A matching silver skirt rode very low on her hips. But it only fell to her mid-thigh area. Around her waist was a crystal encrusted silver chain. It draped to one side. The loose end of the belt bore a blue stone that exactly matched the color of her eyes. Long, beautiful legs — the kind a man would kill to have wrapped around him — remained bare. Her tiny feet were shod with high, strappy sandals. A sweet, sparkling ankle bracelet made him want to lick the skin where it rested.

  “She’s exquisite, isn’t she?” Aigean asked as she circled Lyra.

  Rather than reply, Soldar simply turned away, intent on getting to the shower. There were no words that could do such beauty justice. And the thought of any Condorian actually seeing her in that outfit, much less nude, filled him with protective zeal and fear. Somehow, he had to guard her. Part of his brain reminded him she was a soldier. But the other part was on full, shielding alert.

  Before he’d even left the room, he heard the women speak as if he was no longer within hearing range. He couldn’t help but note the droll tone in Lyra’s voice though it shouldn’t be there.

  “I think he liked it,” Lyra blurted.

  Aigean blithely responded with, “I think he’s already hard.”

  On entering the room where the servants were laying out his clothes, Soldar briefly acknowledged them before sending them away. The clothing he was meant to wear hung near the bathing area. He’d need no help dressing in just the black leather-like pants and tall black boots. Since no shirt was provided, he assumed his chest was to remain bare so as to titillate any of the men or women in the audience. Obviously, whatever he put on now would have to come off during the performance. But he wasn’t worried for himself. The very thought of having intercourse with Lyra — in front of the enemy — was abhorrent. Even though fear tore into his conscience and heart, his testicles glowed with red-hot intensity. Confusion overwhelmed him. Either he wanted this, or he didn’t. Which was it?

  No, it was the fact that Condorians were in the audience and would see that precious flesh exposed and would most certainly crave it. That made him even more afraid for Lyra’s safety.

  All that angst notwithstanding, he was still quite ready to masturbate in the shower, just so he could rid himself of the lust clouding his every thought. No armband was going to stop any man from approaching his Earth counterpart for very long.

  As he stood under the water and thought of her body, he pulled his testicles downward with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. It wasn’t long before semen shot forward but without the benefit of a warm, soft cavity to capture it. And as he watched his seed flow down the drain, and the climax ebbed, an idea came to him.

  There might be one other way to keep so much of Lyra’s sweet, sensual body from scrutiny. Aigean might not like it, and the plan was feeble at best. But it was all he had.

  It might be possible to shield her from view, using his own body as a sort of wall.

  After finishing his shower, he dried his body and brushed out his hair. Donning the clothing took very little time. He placed the palms of his hands on the bathing area vanity, stared in the mirror at his reflection, and waited until the telltale glow in his eyes cooled. For some odd reason, a wash of homesickness hit him hard. The war had gone on too long. He missed his family and balmy, beautiful nights beneath safe, starry skies. If he tried, he could almost smell the flowers in his mother’s garden and hear his father arguing with his grandsire over some ridiculous move made while playing a board game. The laughter of his younger cousins and the faces of smiling servants were only memories. His family might not even recognize the man he’d become after so many years, and only intermittent radio or visual communications sent when his troop vessel was close to Craetoria.

  All he wanted to do was walk in the woods during the evening hours, to be able to eat a meal or drink a clean, cool goblet of wine without feeling guilt over those whose homes had been decimated. The weight of everything he’d seen and all the death he’d delivered pressed on him. Now, he was responsible for yet one more life. And that soft, lovely, feminine image wouldn’t be driven from his mind.

  “Creator, kill me or let me see home again. Please do one or the other soon. I can’t take much more of this.”

  With those words softly uttered, he literally threw the brush he’d been using against the bath area wall. It was the only infantile gesture allowed him when his every move and word had to be guarded.

  He was a soldier and a ranking officer. Others depended upon his calm demeanor for support and for the confidence to do their jobs. But his patience and his will to keep going were almost at an end. Before the night was over, he was surely going to put at least one fist through the face of any Condorian he could. His hatred of them knew no bounds. Because of them, the best part of his life was being lost to war, far away from home.

  When he
re-entered the main area where the dining table was located, he saw Lyra and Aigean seated. They were conversing while sipping from wine goblets. It was all so cozy and amicable except they were in the middle of a war zone and men in other rooms lay dying. He couldn’t even help those poor injured souls, from whatever allied planets they originated, without risking his mission. His impotence concerning this matter didn’t help his chaotic disposition.

  He knew Lyra watched him closely as his movements became short and jerky, driven by supreme frustration. But the mission had to go forward and he hated it more with every passing moment.

  Rather than question him, his new partner turned to Aigean and queried her about the evening’s proceedings.

  Lyra somberly faced Aigean and laid out her plans for after their show was over. “When we’re finished, we’ll head back to this room and Sol can enter the authentication codes into the room’s computer. I’ll do my thing on the bridge and we’ll see what hits the fan afterward. We’ll take one moment at a time.”

  Aigean nodded, then leaned forward and outlined the actual show.

  • • •

  Ten minutes before they were to perform, Soldar stood at the hatch to their quarters. Lyra, in all her seductive brilliance, stood beside him. He didn’t dare touch her, but simply waited for Aigean to unlock the hatch and lead them down the passageway and to the ship’s entertainment section. His loathing for the war and those who’d caused it only grew.

  “Remember,” Aigean instructed, “simply do what comes natural. From what I witnessed, the two of you should have no problem amusing the crowd. Afterward, you’ll leave the stage by the same means I’ll show you now. I’ll make excuses to anyone wishing to meet you. I’ll say you won’t accept visitors or invitations until well after midnight,” she assured them. “This will be in accordance to the contract we agreed upon. But rest assured, you will both be summoned. I suggest you don’t anger the Condorian leaders. If you won’t heed their beckoning, they’ll come looking for you. And remember that you do not want them anywhere near this room’s computer workstation, where the codes will be imbedded.”

  Lyra nodded, took a deep breath, and raised her chin. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Soldar took one look at the courageous expression on Lyra’s exquisitely designed face and hated himself for ordering her aboard. At least she’d have died with her much-protected dignity, in battle like a warrior. Here, she’d be nothing but a whore, served up for some man’s amusement.

  “Remember your promise?” she asked softly. “You said you’d take me out before letting one of them have me.”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing.”

  Aigean broke into the conversation. “Need I remind you that the goal is to stay alive for as long as possible? My employees have learned to put up with great sorrows. Surviving is everything! Quit dwelling on what you can’t accomplish, but what you must endure to help others live. This situation has made whores of us all, in one way or another. Live to fight another day. Survive to see the enemy suffer!”

  Lyra shook her head. “There are some things worse than death. Lying with a Condorian is about the most despicable act I can imagine.”

  Aigean drew herself up in anger. “Use your wits, girl! I assume you have them to have survived this long. There are ways out of any situation if you only think. Dying does nothing but help the enemy. Death will come to us all one day, perhaps sooner than we’d like. But while you live, fight. Never give up. Never surrender.”

  Soldar held up his hand to stop any ensuing argument. There was no time left for exchange of philosophies. “There’s nothing we can do except continue this pretense. But I can tell you this, Aigean … it should be the man or woman’s decision as to when and where to share their bodies. Your people made the decision that was acceptable for them, I’d have made the decision to be here if given the choice. But if Lyra has made her choice then so be it. I’ll defend it with my last breath. I’d no more see her taken against her will than I’d see one of my kinswomen ravaged. She’s a fighter, not a prostitute. The lives of those in each occupation are vastly different. I cast no judgment of your business or those employed by you, but surviving has to include a quantum of self-respect. Without it, what are we fighting for?” He turned to his Earth companion. “Whatever it takes, I’ll honor the promise I made, Lyra. Pray to the Creator I don’t have to.” In response, Lyra stared up at him with sheer gratitude painted on her features.

  “You’ll never know how much hearing those words means to me.” She took his hand in hers.

  “So be it,” Aigean groused. “But I believe there’s an old Earth expression about having more than one way to skin a cat. This is mine.” With that said, she led them toward the ship’s theatre.

  • • •

  Together, they strode through the passageways where various customers mingled. Soldar’s gaze moved from one individual they passed to another, always watching and waiting for any sign of aggression. He noted how Lyra kept her gaze straight ahead.

  “Relax, girl,” Aigean softly comforted, “you’re with your man now. All you must do is please him in front of an audience then go back to your quarters. You won’t be able to see those who watch you. The lights will be too bright.”

  Lyra said nothing but gripped his hand more tightly. He reckoned the truth was just hitting home. There was a huge difference in having suggested this farce and actually being inflicted with it.

  He saw her chew on her lower lip and moved closer. Approaching sounds of revelry signaled a crowd.

  They’d yet to see a Condorian except for the guards they’d initially encountered after leaving the oasis. These were the same men they’d play-acted for.

  In every passageway and hatch, there were men and women sharing bodies. He recognized beings from virtually every known neutral world in the galaxy. There were also a few creatures present he hadn’t ever heard of.

  As it was, this vessel seemed to be filled with sex servants who were in the group having had enough of Condorian rule. As Soldar walked by them, there seemed to be a telltale spark of rage in their eyes. They’d glance at him as if they knew exactly what he was up to. But they kept working, as if nothing was amiss.

  Tall red men openly felt-up green women. Those with multiple appendages were making good use of them by embracing and fondling each other. But even their various sexual behaviors and states of dress — or undress — hadn’t diverted him from the task ahead.

  Though he detected covert nods in appreciation of his presence, he tried to appear blasé. But he wasn’t sure the ruse would ultimately work the first time he contacted the occupying admiral. Despite claims of wanting to outwit the enemy and wanting to engage this mission to make that attempt, it’d take everything he had to keep from strangling the bastard.

  Finally, their walk ended. Aigean stopped in front of a hatch that was larger than any they’d passed. She lowered her voice and instructed them for what was likely the last time.

  “This entrance leads directly to the stage. You’ve both been told what’s expected. When you’re finished, I’ll meet you back here or most certainly in your quarters.” She raised her hands with her palms facing them. “May the Creator of all things be with you.”

  Feeling the woman beside him shudder, Soldar turned to her. “It’s only me and you out there. No one else. Just as Aigean said. Think of only me, Lyra.”

  When he cupped her cheeks with both hands, she simply nodded and watched as he pressed the hatch button to open it.

  Before them, bright lights almost blinded their entrance onto a white stage. The place they entered was surprisingly clean. As Soldar’s vision adjusted, he saw several of Aigean’s employees beckon them forward and onto the dais that would serve as their performance area.

  One of the assistants took his hand. Apparently he was to stand between two columns, as indicated by
his assistant’s quick gestures. The pillars reminded him of supports decorating great halls of learning back on Craetoria. Why such a trivial thing would enter his mind at a time like this, he couldn’t fathom.

  The women helped him out of his black pants and boots. He now understood these had only been donned to get them to the stage without sexual offers slowing their progress. He also reasoned that if they were the main entertainment, they would hardly appear as professionals by walking nude through the passageways, freely displaying that which others paid to watch.

  His body reveled at the thought of seeing Lyra nude again. There was no denying what she could do to him. But the sensation wasn’t enough to forego his sense of duty. As for Lyra, when he glanced at her now he saw a woman almost paralyzed by fear.

  Where charging through a barren wasteland and fighting had been no issue, what she faced now seemed to unravel her nerve at its deepest source. Before he’d speak to her again, he’d wait for Aigean’s women to complete their work. It was up to them to actually pull her clothing from her body. She simply wasn’t responding to their hurried encouragement.

  Aigean’s instructions stated: if they got through this performance without any problems, their garments would be waiting for them in the passageway. The only clothing Lyra wouldn’t discard was the sparkling, silver chain around her waist. As she moved, the dangling end bearing the blue stone swung from side to side, striking her left hip.

  Soldar stood there, silently gazing at her luscious body. And then his gaze rose to catch the utter terror in her eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d give her left arm for a laser pistol and a chance for a fair fight — a procedure with which she was infinitely more familiar.