by Mills, Shae
A feral growl rose up from Korba’s throat. He reached for his knife, running the blade swiftly down the length of Ticees’ uniform and splitting it from his neck to his thighs. Ticees’ eyes widened with terror.
“Is that all Chelan had to do with you to spare herself, just talk to you?”
Ticees went limp. “Oh shit…”
The smile that traversed Korba’s face was that of a devil possessed. “So, tell me of our shared values.” Korba dropped his knife. With one arm across Ticees’ throat, Korba reached down for the Emperor’s genitals, grasping them firmly in his gloved hand. He twisted, and Ticees cried out in agony.
Korba brought his face to Ticees’ ear. “Tell me about your Iceanean values when you pushed yourself into my woman.”
Ticees’ face was contorted with pain.
“Yes, we shared all,” Korba hissed. “But there was one thing we never shared, one precious gift. That gift belonged to the three of us, but never to you!”
Ticees struggled for air, his senses clouding. “While you were gone, she fucked whom she pleased—”
Korba nearly lost it. He glanced at the knife in Fremma’s hand and almost let the warrior have his way. Dar was so taut with rage his whole body trembled. Korba looked back at Ticees, squeezing the man until Ticees’ face went pale. “She made love to those she loved! She made love to Dar and Fremma! You should have never touched her in any way! You never deserved to touch her in any way!” And he stepped back, releasing the man completely.
Ticees slumped to his knees, grasping his damaged organs. “Fuck,” he wheezed. He hunched over as he panted for air. After a time, he finally looked up at Korba. “How did you find out? Who finally talked? Stose? The maid? Who was my fucking traitor?”
Korba turned from him in a storm of black, running his hands through his hair in a bid for any tendril of control he could muster. Then he let his head fall back as he drew in a deep breath. Dar and Fremma were coiled for whatever was to come.
Korba finally turned back to Ticees, the Warlord’s azure eyes aflame. He drew out a projection instrument and placed it on the floor in front of them all. The light beam sprang from the top and dispersed. Before them all, an image of Chelan appeared. She lay on her side in a large bed, a single white sheet drawn over her and tucked by her hand to her breast.
Ticees almost stopped breathing. He squinted at the image, realizing that he could see her quiet respirations. Her incredibly long hair was splashed out behind her in a sunburst. “Shit,” he uttered in astonishment. Then his heart thudded against his chest, and he gasped. “She lives.”
Korba closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to clear his vision of the tears that threatened just at the sight of his beautiful angel asleep in his bed.
Ticees struggled for air. He winced. “Oh my god … Korba … I’m so sorry … I … I never meant for things to go wrong the way they did.” He attempted to straighten. “I loved her.”
Dar had to draw on every ounce of discipline he had not to blast the bastard, and he could tell that Fremma was waging the same battle. But they both knew that in the end, any punishment was to be doled out by Korba’s hands. Dar remained rooted to the spot.
Korba looked to the ground and shook his head. “Love,” he whispered. “You really have no idea, do you?”
Ticees looked frantically at the man who now took on an air of calm. The peace that overtook the Overlord was more distressing than all that had gone before.
Korba continued to stare at the floor, his voice soft and low. “Describe this love for me. Tell me how you loved her in front of the Guild.”
Ticees’ head sank. Korba whirled around in a flurry of ebony. “Tell me!” he shouted. “Tell us all how you loved her that night!”
Ticees sat back on his heels and looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. “I wanted her … all of her … I thought she would come to me. I thought she would give herself to me … willingly … I—”
Korba’s voice boomed. “I don’t want what you thought, what you hoped for! I want to know what you did! Tell me what you did!”
Ticees looked at Korba, and his features hardened. “I tried to make love to her! I tried to impregnate her!”
Korba lunged at him, grabbing him about the neck and squeezing hard. “Don’t fucking lie to me! Quit fucking lying to us! And quit fucking lying to yourself!” and Korba rammed Ticees’ head back against the wall. “Tell us all what you did, or I’ll let Fremma have a slice of you, and then we will all sit back and watch while you bleed out. Tell us!”
“Okay,” Ticees wailed. “I raped her! God, I raped her in front of the Guild!”
Korba released him and sprang back from him. “You deserve no less than to be cast aside in the dungeons of hell for what you put her through. You are no better than any of the beings we have ever destroyed—you are even worse. You betrayed our beliefs, you betrayed our morals and standards of conduct, and you betrayed the very basis upon which our society is based. And worst of all, you did it from the top, from a position of power, and with that power you betrayed the friendship that we all forged a lifetime ago. And the deepest betrayal of all was to her!”
A soft moan came from the projection and all the men’s eyes snapped to Chelan. She murmured in her sleep and rolled to her back, one breast becoming exposed as she stretched contentedly.
Korba whirled, his eyes ablaze, “You don’t even deserve to lay your eyes upon her, much less force your body into her!”
Neither Fremma nor Dar had time to react. Korba struck with the speed of a demon hell-bent on destruction. A saber materialized from his shroud, and the blow was struck. The blade penetrated the top of Ticees’ right shoulder, travelling diagonally across his chest and through his heart. The man gasped and looked up through clouded eyes at his executioner. He clasped at his chest as he struggled for his last breaths. “I’m sorry,” he uttered.
Korba released the hilt and straightened. He almost staggered back, and Dar reached out to steady him. All three men watched as Ticees drew his last breath, his body slumping forward.
Korba whirled away and then strode over to a wall. He leaned into it, his forehead against it as he struggled to contain his emotions. Dar stepped up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Korba turned around and hugged into his friend. “How could I have ever doubted you, Dar?”
Dar embraced his friend as hard as he could. “I gave you every excuse in the world to doubt me. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have come here. If I hadn’t, Ticees would have sniffed out my subterfuge.”
Korba pushed back from Dar. “This has been one hell of a day,” he whispered. “I’ve laid waste to my planet, I’ve killed millions, and I’ve executed our Emperor.”
Dar’s lip quirked. “A job well done, I’d say.”
Korba nodded weakly. He looked to Fremma and beckoned the man over. He wrapped his arms around the warrior and clung to him as though he were life itself. When he finally released Fremma, he looked at the two men. “I couldn’t have done this without either of you.”
“Sure you could have,” assured Dar. “It might have taken a little longer, but the end result would have been achieved, nonetheless.”
Fremma folded his arms over his chest. “I, however, have a bone to pick with you. Since I made sure your sorry ass got down here in one piece, I should have at least been allowed to impart a little Earthly justice.”
Korba straightened his shroud. “I must admit, my dear man, I came within seconds of allowing you to do just that.”
Fremma smiled. “Well, no matter. Just witnessing the expression on his face when he realized Chelan was alive after all this time was more than worth the trip.”
Fremma had no sooner mentioned her name than a soft, epicurean voice moaned with blissful satisfaction. All three men turned toward the projection and watched as she shuffled to her side, reaching for a pillow and nestling into it.
“Sweet mother of the universe,” Dar uttered.
“Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as that?”
“Never,” whispered Fremma.
Korba stepped forward, gazing at the goddess before him for a moment. Then he leaned over and picked up the projection device. Her image disappeared, and he turned to Dar and Fremma. “Let’s go visit the real thing.”
Chapter 34
All three made it back to RIBUS 7 unscathed; the last remnants of the battle raged around them as they left the planet’s surface. Korba immediately took over command from Tarn and set about the task of seeing the battle to its end. As the hours passed, all four men watched as messages flowed in indicating a thorough and clean sweep of the planet.
Soon, reports from Toran crossed the intel lines indicating that RIBUS 6 was in the process of purging itself of Ticeenean loyalists. Although the battle cruiser was too far out to be of help, Toran was on his way back in a high-speed fighter. Now the order was going out throughout the galaxy to all the RIBUSes to enact the same cleansing process.
Korba released the ship from its red alert, and then he relinquished himself to his emotions. Iceanea and the Empire were his, and he allowed himself a small victory smile. But what truly gladdened his heart and mind was the end of Ticees himself. If all else had failed save Ticees’ demise, it would have been more than enough.
Korba remained very still for a time as he sorted through all the ramifications of what had just been accomplished. Dar, Fremma, and Tarn all busied themselves about the Command Center, issuing new orders and directives. Korba watched them as he ran his fingers through his thick hair and inhaled deeply. Then he felt a surge of energy knife throughout his body, every fiber, every nerve enervated. The Empire be damned. What he wanted to do right now was make love to his woman—long, deep, and hard.
He glanced at his chambers just as there came a flash from an indicator light. Korba exhaled and restored his professional demeanor, shelving his ardor.
Just then the doors opened, and all four men looked up at the shrouded figure that entered. Toran pulled back his hood and smiled broadly. “I come all the way back here to my home, and I find it in ruins. Some welcome that is.” And Toran dropped his helmet and descended the stairs to Korba and hugged him tightly. “Congratulations, my friend,” he complimented. “I’m just sorry that I could not have been here to help.”
Korba smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that I will be able to use plenty of your help over the next little while,” and the group chuckled.
Toran turned and looked to the rest of the men. “Well, I think that this at least calls for a small victory drink, don’t you? At least I need one after being confined in a cockpit with no outlet for all my energy.”
Everyone agreed, and then Tarn spoke. “While everyone here indulges themselves in a celebratory toast, I think someone should at least tend the ship.” He smiled. “So if you will excuse me, my Lord, I will return to the Bridge.”
Korba nodded to him. “You are so right, my man. I assure you that we will not be idle long. If there any untoward issues, please relay them to me immediately.”
Tarn nodded to all the men. “My Lords,” and he turned and left.
Toran poured the drinks for them as they all sat. Dar raised his glass to Korba. “To the new Empire,” he smiled. The group raised their glasses and nodded to Korba as they all took a drink.
“Well,” said Fremma. “I realize that this is a far-reaching question, but what’s next?”
Korba chuckled and then leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his weary eyes. “Sleep,” he commented. “All I want is sleep.”
Fremma smiled as his eyes moved beyond Korba. “I bet,” he whispered as he stood slowly.
Immediately, all the men looked in the direction of Fremma’s gaze to where Chelan stood at the entrance to Korba’s chambers, her beauty alive. Dar leapt to his feet, nearly spilling his drink, but he could move no farther.
Chelan’s deep brown eyes met Dar’s, and she felt her heart nearly stop. She took a hesitant step away from the wall as she clutched at the beautiful white gown that he had given her so long ago.
Dar could barely catch his breath. “My Lady,” he rasped, utterly enamored.
Chelan smiled at him and took another step. “Dar,” she whispered, and instantly he sprang up the stairs, gathering her up into his arms.
“Oh, pretty lady,” he uttered.
Chelan buried her face in his long, silver-blonde hair and kissed his neck. She lingered in his embrace, never wanting to let the Warlord go.
Finally he lowered her to the floor and looked deeply into her eyes, his fingers caressing her soft, pink cheeks. “Are you well, my Lady?” he asked softly.
Chelan couldn’t tear her eyes from his. “Yes,” she whispered. She reached for his lips with her fingers and brushed them tenderly. “I’m even better now.”
Dar felt his body warm, and suddenly he wished he could be alone with her for an eternity. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, his heart splitting with the love that he harbored for her.
Chelan held his face to hers. “I wanted you to know how much our last night together meant to me, Dar. Over the years, you were never out of my thoughts or my heart.”
Dar could no longer speak, his emotions overwhelming him. He held her hand to his lips as he tried to regain himself. It was Toran who finally came to his rescue as he patted Dar on the shoulder.
“Hey, my friend. Let’s not monopolize the Lady.”
Dar smiled down at her and nodded as he stepped back. Chelan’s eyes followed him for a moment more before she looked at Toran. “My Lord,” she greeted demurely.
“My Lady,” he smiled, and he embraced her, kissing her cheek lightly.
He stepped back, and Chelan looked beyond him to Korba and Fremma. “My, quite the get-together of the top military brass,” she commented, her eyes sparkling. “Who arranged the party?”
Dar turned back to her, having collected himself. “Why, I believe Korba did,” he replied warmly, and he extended his arm to her.
Chelan grinned up at him as she accepted his invitation, and then she looked down at Korba. “So, am I invited to the festivities, whatever they may be?”
Toran nodded to her and then hesitated. He looked at Korba and frowned. Then he looked back at Chelan. “My Lady. Have you been sleeping?”
Chelan appeared bewildered by the comment, and she looked up at Dar and then to Korba. Korba smiled at her. “Actually,” he interjected, “she has been sleeping,” and he smiled as he looked at Toran’s stunned expression. “She never knew. I never told her.”
Dar grinned at Chelan and then urged her forward, ushering her to a chair by Korba. Toran then descended the stairs, and all were seated once again.
Chelan pushed herself back into her seat and looked about the room uneasily. “I have the feeling that I have been left out of something.” She looked into Dar’s brilliant eyes.
“Oh, quite the contrary, my fair lady. You were far from uninvolved in last night’s endeavors.”
Chelan looked nervous. “Involved in what?” A small, hesitant smile touched her lips.
Fremma cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Well, it seems, my Lady, that your mate over there took it upon himself to administer a little hand-slapping to Ticees for his past mistreatment of you.”
The entire group smiled, but Korba remained very still, watching Chelan carefully. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her muscles betraying her anxiety. “I wondered when and if you would ever react,” she said softly, her voice wavering. “I thought your treatment of the whole affair was … a little subdued.”
Dar nearly choked on his drink, and he leaned forward and set it down. He looked over into Chelan’s fawn-like eyes and smiled. “Oh no, my Lady,” he whispered. “Korba’s reaction was far from subdued.” He smiled broadly. “Delayed maybe, but hardly subdued.”
Chelan’s eyes darted back to Korba, her body beginning to quake. “Oh no, what did you do?”
Korba smiled
with love in his eyes, but then he watched as Dar rose. “If you permit, my Lord, I would like the privilege of enlightening our Lady as to the past evening’s events.”
Korba nodded his permission warmly. Dar turned to Chelan and knelt before her, taking her hand in his. “As I said, my Lady, Korba’s reaction to Ticees and his mistreatment of you was far from subdued. Let’s just say that with some military planning that could only be described as a stroke of genius—” Dar hesitated, captivated by her big brown eyes. “Well, let’s just say that you will never have to worry about Ticees again. I can assure you of that, my Lady, for your Lord took it upon himself to issue the final punishment personally.”
Chelan continued to stare at Dar. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a tremulous whisper. But Dar only smiled. Chelan’s eyes travelled over to Korba, and she saw for the first time the blood that caked his cloak. She nearly lost her breath, but Korba was calm, his features soft and his eyes warm.
Toran smiled at her, tearing her gaze from Korba as he spoke. “What Dar is trying to say, my Lady, is that Ticees is dead.”
Chelan’s breath caught. She looked at Korba, and he nodded the affirmative. Chelan glanced at the floor, her thoughts jumbled.
“My Lady,” Fremma called, and Chelan looked up. “On the night that Shan told us of your whereabouts, he spoke at length about you to Dar and Korba. He had indicated to them at one point that he had told you that he had felt that you were worthy of a Warlord, if not the Emperor himself.” Fremma watched her as she began to quiver. “Shan was a great man, Chelan, and a very perceptive one. He assessed you, your regal elegance, your kindness, your gentleness, and your beauty, accurately. You are truly worthy of an Emperor.”
Chelan was now shaking, and she felt her heart stumble. She could only stare at Fremma. She was not sure she was comprehending all that was being said, and after a long time, she finally looked into Korba’s serious face.
Dar stood, followed by Toran and Fremma. He nodded to Korba and raised his drink. “To the new Emperor.” They all took a sip of their drinks, and then all three men sank to their knees before Korba and bowed their heads.