by Autumn Dawn
His frown was fleeting, but she saw it. “What?”
He glanced at her then looked away. “You have done well. It’s only that I can’t picture you working this hard once we have children.”
That banished her sleepiness. She sat up. “Gee whiz, what’s the rush? We haven’t been married a month! Who cares if I work hard right now? At least I’m doing something useful with my life. That’s more than a lot of people could say.” For that matter, she wasn’t ready to have children, but that was a subject for another time. Surely they had contraceptives here. She’d just quietly use them when her biannual dose of birth control wore off. Ryven wouldn’t need to know.
“Being a wife and a mother is useful. Who do you think shapes the destiny of the next generation? Having a mother close is vital in a strong society. You can’t work yourself into the ground and still expect to give the best of yourself to your children, your family.” He held up a hand to forestall her protest. “As for your contributions now, though, I am well pleased. My father has also mentioned his pleasure.”
Mollified, she asked, “He did?”
Ryven kissed her temple. “He said I chose well.”
“Huh!” She relaxed into the mattress. “I like him pretty well myself.” She looked at her husband in consideration. “For a man who worked so hard to make me an ambassador, you already sound as if you’ve planned a retirement. What do you plan to do for the next ambassador, kidnap another woman?”
He frowned at her.
She gave a half shrug. “It’s a fair question.”
There was a long pause. “I suppose you’ll have to remain in an advocate position. As you’re married into the lord governor’s family—to his heir, no less—that shouldn’t be a problem,” he said drily.
Startled, she looked at him. “You’re his heir? As in, you’ll be lord governor someday?”
“Of course.”
She stared at him. Somehow, she’d never dreamed of that. After all, the man was a starship commander and people didn’t inherit titles where she was from. She wasn’t excited about being the wife of a ruler. What did she know about such a lifestyle?
“This bothers you?” he said carefully.
“It’s very unexpected,” she temporized. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”
He raised a brow. “The lord governor’s wife has much influence. There were women who pursued me just for the hope of such status.”
She grimaced at him.
He shook his head with the hint of a smile. “I’m not trying to mock you, wife, just understand you. You are here and they are not. It’s only that I expected more enthusiasm.”
She cleared her throat. “I’ll see what I can do. I have to get used to this, though. I’m unsure what to expect of such a life. It’s…daunting.”
His brow cleared. “Ah. You’re frightened of the unknown. That’s not unusual.”
Was he being just a touch patronizing? She frowned at him. “I’m concerned. It’s a reasonable reaction.”
“Of course.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re being a little too soothing. I don’t like it.”
Ryven’s lips twitched. “Moody, aren’t you?” He blocked the pillow she swung at him. “Temper, O governor’s wife. Dignity.”
Xera snorted. “You’re not the governor yet.” She attacked him.
He didn’t even pretend to wrestle. He flipped her neatly on her back and rolled on top. It put him in an interesting position. “Little fighter. Let’s see if I can tame you.” He slid inside her.
She gasped. He held still, to let her fully absorb the sensation, then sharply thrust. Her sharp inhalations soon mixed with his slower, heavy breaths. These sounded like a doe in a thicket being devoured by a lion. And there were similarities of situation. Xera was the doe, pinned by the weight of the hunter. His mouth was on her, over her, in her, tasting and devouring, her mouth, her breasts, her—
“Oh, yes! Ohhh, Rye!”
Oh, yes. There were similarities.
In the end Xera just lay there, too spent to reach for a blanket as her lover lapped her in the afterglow. She enjoyed the slow caresses of his tongue, the languid sweep of his hand. She fell asleep with his fingers tucked inside her, the feel of his naked skin under her cheek. Maybe he had a point, she thought hazily. Being a full-time wife might have its advantages.
She was in a fog most of the next morning. Her husband’s insistence of sleeping with his fingers intimately in her had caused a very restless night. They’d awoken several times, and now she was tender and too sated to do more than stare fuzzily at the Scorpio version of tea. She held her cup’s warm weight in her hand and looked dreamily into nothing.
Ryven leaned over the back of the couch and growled in her ear as he kissed her. “Those kind of looks will land you right back in bed.”
“You have to go to work,” she scoffed with a smile. “You said so yourself.”
He grunted. “Spoilsport. I might take a long lunch, though.”
She looked at him archly. “And I might take a long nap. You didn’t let me sleep last night.”
He grinned. “You slept—just not for long.”
“Your fault.”
“You didn’t mind.” He kissed her quickly. “Rest today.”
“Hm.” She planned to, but she had other things to do as well. She wanted to start a journal so she’d remember things when she got another chance to send her family a message through the wormhole. As much as she liked to daydream, it was unlikely that her family would ever visit the proposed moon base. She’d probably have to heavily edit the journal when she was done, but that was all right. She’d read that journals were good therapy, and she could use the introspection.
She also needed a list of goals. What did she want to do with her life? Things had changed radically for her and she desperately needed a point of focus. The moon base had provided that, which was one of the reasons she’d thrown herself into it. But where was she most needed next?
An opportunity arose as she observed Namae in the officer’s mess. The whole habit of her sister-in-law playing servant grated, and she was determined to change it. Xera had been forced to order the girl to sit at the table and eat with her as she had tea. Now the girl sat with her shoulders hunched and avoided the eyes of anybody who looked politely their way. The whole thing was just sickening.
Xera had enough. “For pity’s sake, sit up straight, will you? Even monks act like they have a spine, and they are far more penitent than you are. Though, if it will make you feel better, we can see about getting you a hair shirt. Why you feel like serving the sentence for someone else’s crime is beyond me.”
Namae looked up with wounded eyes.
“Don’t try that on me,” Xera said in exasperation. “I’m not your father or your brothers that puppy dog eyes will convince. I’m sure they enjoy the way you punish them.”
Namae sat bolt upright. “Punish them? How am I doing that?”
“Please. Do you think they enjoy the impression you’re leaving? You make it seem as if they’re punishing you for what your brother-in-law did. You make them look bad.” She didn’t bother to keep her voice down. A few of the nearby men slanted looks at them.
Namae sent her a hushing look. “Please!”
“Then sit up and act like a princess. If you’ve forgotten your lessons on how to be one, I’ll be glad to let you join me in the deportment classes I asked your brother to arrange for me. They are almost as much fun as boot camp, but one of us ought to come out of them looking as if we learned how to behave in public.” She took a disgruntled sip of tea. “Really girl, have some pride! I thought princesses were supposed to be snootier than this.”
“I am not snooty,” Namae said in stiff-backed outrage.
Xera smiled with satisfaction and sipped her tea. “Now that’s more like it. I was beginning to think your brothers had inherited all the moxie in your family.”
“What is that?” the young woman asked suspiciously.
Aware that she had to maintain appearances, Xera lowered her voice. She waggled her brows and leaned forward slightly. “Manly bits.”
Namae looked positively offended. “That’s awful!” It was hard to say if it was the sentiment or the description she disliked.
“It would be if it were true. I’m happy to say I don’t believe it is.” Xera set down her cup. “Come on, let’s go.” She waited until they were in relative privacy in the corridors before asking casually, “So, who’s your fancy?”
Namae looked at her suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
Xera smiled. “Who do you like? Which men do you think are handsome? Don’t be shy, we’re sisters now. Who else am I going to have girl talk with?”
Namae looked nonplussed. “I suppose we are sisters.”
Xera pressed her advantage. “That’s right, so spill. Let me guess—you like Shiza.”
She made a face. “Ew! You aren’t serious.”
“He watches you.”
“He watches all women. He acts like an onta who is never fed.”
Xera wasn’t familiar with the reference but understood the gist. “He has a special look for you.”
“Probably annoyance,” Namea retorted. “I don’t fall under the spell of his commander’s star and pretty eyes. I grew up with him, you see. It’s difficult to take seriously anyone whom you’ve watched pee off a balcony when he’s eleven.”
An unexpected laugh made Xera choke. “You spied on him?”
“He was out there in the open for the world to see,” Namae said indignantly. “I told him as much when he saw me.”
“What did he say to that?”
Namae blushed and refused to answer. She took a corner of her skirt and flicked it out of her way, as if annoyed.
Undaunted, Xera said slyly, “But you think his eyes are pretty.”
“It’s a fact. The sky is blue. The Khun’tat are our enemies. Shiza’s eyes are pretty.” Namae’s expression was determinedly blithe. “Are you pregnant yet, sister?”
Xera stumbled and looked at the other woman in disbelief. “That was dirty! I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Namae sent her a superior look, clearly pleased with herself. “I have sisters, too. Aunts, brothers, uncles, a father. Did you think I would be undefended?”
Xera shook her head with new respect. “Silly of me. As for whether I’m pregnant…no, there are no babies here. I know your brother wants to have them, but it may not be possible. As far as I know, our races have never interbred. To be honest, I don’t mind—I don’t have much mothering instinct. Incidentally, will the line go to Toosun if we don’t produce an heir?” Oddly enough, she hadn’t been worried about becoming pregnant prior to this. She’d faithfully taken her biannual dose of contraceptive just in case, and by her calculations it should still be in her system for another…she frowned, suddenly unsure of her math. What month was it?
“Perhaps, though I doubt Ryven was concerned about it, since he wed you.”
“But I’m an alien. Would that be taken into consideration?” She didn’t want to be held responsible for messing up the noble lineage. Ryven may not care, but her new relatives might shun her. Families could be touchy about that sort of thing.
“It might, but don’t worry.” Namae patted her shoulder. “You won’t be held responsible. We like you well enough. If Ryven hadn’t chosen you, we might have ended up with some hideous foreign princess. Far better to have an alien sister than one of those.” They had reached Xera’s quarters. Namae gestured for her to move first through the door.
Xera entered, unsure whether to be comforted or not.
Chapter Fifteen
Xera was in the ready room, talking with her father-in-law, when the alarm claxon sounded. They broke off their conversation to exchange concerned looks and hurried to the bridge, which was nearby. Ryven snapped terse commands as he scanned proximity readouts from his command chair. He stood and surveyed the forward screen. A magnified view of an embattled space station showed a large Khun’tat warship parked close by. A great deal of the outer ring of the spoke-shaped station was damaged, and the smaller, ovoid Khun’tat fighters swarmed everywhere, dodging its sputtering weapons.
Ryven turned his head to send an order and spotted his wife and father. He finished a series of rapid commands and came to them. “We investigated the station’s unnatural silence and found this. Other warships are on their way, but we’re point for now.” They’d originally had two other warships with them at the meeting with the GE and Interplanetary Council, but he had sent Shiza’s to investigate a distress call and the other on a border sweep. They had expected an easy journey back to Rsik; the Khun’tat should never have been able to penetrate this deep into Scorpio territory.
Ryven put a light hand on Xera’s shoulder. “The bridge is too busy right now—you’ll be safe in our quarters. I’ll send a link there so you and Namae can watch what’s happening.” He shot an inquiring look at his father.
“I’ll wait with them,” Lord Atarus assured him. “Be victorious, son.”
Ryven flashed him a smile, kissed Xera quickly and turned his attention back to the battle.
The kiss rattled Xera. If he was being so demonstrative in public, he must truly feel the need to comfort her. It didn’t bode well.
“Come, daughter. He will be a better commander for knowing his wife is safe.” Lord Atarus placed her hand on his arm and escorted her from the bridge. Two guards she didn’t recognize fell in behind them. Two others joined them on the way and stationed themselves outside her room.
Ignoring them all, Xera told Namae what was going on and turned on the view screen. Scorpio fighters engaged the enemy in a bloody game of tag. The screen split into two sections. The smaller portion showed a Khun’tat transport already docked with the space station. Scorpio fighters concentrated their fire on the transport. Xera felt a chill as she realized the aliens were already taking prisoners.
There was a sudden flash from the alien battle cruiser, and the ship shuddered slightly around them. Xera blanched. “What was that?” Namae cried, wide-eyed.
Lord Atarus frowned. “The battle cruiser fired on us. That’s unusual. Normally, they would get out with as many prisoners as they could and jump for hyperspace, with or without their fighters. There might be a breeding queen on the ship, which would make them more aggressive. They’re very demanding when they’re hungry. If I’m right she’ll have a hatching chamber full of developing larvae.”
Their warship’s laser cannons returned fire on the Khun’tat battle cruiser. Both ships’ shields stayed strong—for the moment.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to have the food before she laid eggs?” Xera asked. Not that she approved of the Khun’tat method of grocery shopping.
The LG shook his head. “They aren’t logical like that. The queens especially are at the mercy of their instincts, and drones follow her lead. If she’s hungry, they get food. She won’t back off until her own ship is endangered.”
“Why can’t they just start a farm or something?” Xera demanded.
He ignored her question, knowing it was rhetorical.
Namae had a better one: “How long until her ship is endangered, Father?”
He was silent for some time as he stroked his long mustache. He seemed to be calculating as he watched the battle. “The station didn’t have fighters of its own, but it was not defenseless. Many of the enemy fighters are disabled…” He indicated the floating wreckage.
Another blast flashed nearby, and he widened his stance to retain his balance. Calmly he went on: “But the mother ship is whole. They will not stop trying to take the prisoners—and Ryven will not stop trying to prevent it. We do not ever let our people be taken.”
Which put them in a dangerous spot. They had to disable the mother ship before it beat them. The good news was that there were friendly ships coming. The aliens didn’t have that advantage.
Xera opened her mouth to say so�
�and two more Khun’tat battleships jumped out of hyper-space. Namae went white. Xera saw her face and helped her sit down, feeling shaky herself. This was not good.
Even the LG looked grim. He watched as their ships opened fire on the two new arrivals, but they were grossly outgunned. The Khun’tat targeted the single-man fighters first, decimating their numbers. They also soon had the battleship’s shields down. They began to take out its cannons, destroying any chance the Scorpio had to fight back.
The battleship was rocked by blasts, its engines trying to keep its shields and stabilizers working, and things seemed desperate. Then the situation took a turn for the worse. The Khun’tat battleship began to launch fighters. Minutes later, it launched a prisoner transport.
Xera felt the blood leave her head. They were coming for her. They were coming for them all.
“Come.” Lord Atarus collected the two females and headed for the door. “Now is the time to go to the bridge.” Their escort of soldiers closed around them, looking tense. Xera didn’t have to ask why they were going to the bridge. It was time for a last stand. She did not want to end up on the meat wagon.
Trouble was, the Scorpio felt the same way. She knew from the videos she’d watched that they would blow the whole ship rather than be taken for food. They’d fight to the bitter end first, though. “Never lay down arms” might as well be the motto of the race. She was proud to be a part of the group and terrified at same time. It was an ugly way to die.
Ryven gripped her shoulder as they entered the bridge, and he sent a grim look at his father. Without a word, a warrior came up and handed them each a laser rifle. He showed the women how to use it.
The waiting was tense. Ryven positioned his family far away from the doors and stood by them. Screen after screen showed armored Khun’tat getting closer, taking prisoners. They shot out the cameras as they came, but those on the bridge could see the fighting getting closer. Big and ugly, with their hoselike tails at the back of their skulls, the Khun’tat crushed anything inanimate that got in their way but only stunned their other victims, either with guns or the venomous spines on the end of their head hoses.