by Kayla Stonor
Ben’s condition convinced Gabrielle their diplomatic mission required the obscene display of military might. A myriad scars adorned his body, his health damaged by years of labor in the most abhorrent conditions, lungs ravaged by toxic air, his body weakened from malnutrition, a spirit cynical and untrusting. With Dralexi’s nobles and courtiers to their back, she and Oltu stood in the ornate throne room of a gilded palace enriched off the back of slave labor. She’d take any leverage Oltu gave her, morals and pride be damned.
Oltu paced before the podium in his Qui form, arms behind his back and under his silken black wings, relaxed, almost detached from the proceedings. He wore Qui regalia, sword girded to his side. Gabrielle had never met a negotiator so menacing. He eyed the short, plump, balding weasel occupying Dralexin’s throne. “Dralexi may have been granted independence, Tekut, but the Honored Qui expected Dralexi to comply with her decree to grant humans the rights of a Qui citizen. Instead, humans remain sequestered in the mines.”
“The United Regions of Earth considers Dralexi’s enslavement of our citizens unacceptable,” Gabrielle declared in K’lahn before the Regent could respond, her voice cold and hard. She and Oltu projected a united front, a lie as shallow as the First Lord of Katar’s rotten heart. If Tekut bought it, she didn’t care. She cared about the human beings trapped in that hellhole of a mine. “Our people are not slaves. They are not property. They were stolen from their homes, transported across the galaxy, and put to work in brutal conditions against their will. My government demands their immediate release.”
“Ambassador Rooster, Lord Oltu auctioned your people to Dralexi. He signed the order.”
“An order rescinded by the Qui Empress. The Qui Empire invaded my world, sir. Killed and stole my people! I represent the United Regions of Earth and I will see the Qui Empire fulfill the terms of the treaty ratified by the culmination of Earth’s tribute with the Qui Empress.” She spat out those final words like they were shards of glass. She used one travesty to undo another.
Regent Tekut pouted. “And will the Honored Qui compensate Dralexi for the lost revenue incurred when the mine’s close for lack of a workforce?”
“The mine is already closed,” Oltu said softly, “following a collapse in the east section.”
The Regent started, glanced at his po-faced aides.
“Our scans detected an earthquake,” Oltu explained. “I am making arrangements for the Qui Empire to secure new supplies of zircon.”
“Why would you do that? The mine is stable.”
“Our agreement stipulates I guarantee the mine’s infrastructure. An earthquake on that scale requires a minimum four lunar cycles to inspect and repair structural damage before mining can resume. The Qui always honor the terms of our agreements, Regent.”
Gabrielle started. She’d thought Oltu’s act of sabotage cover for her brother’s extraction. She narrowed her eyes on Tekut. “Our people work in a mine that isn’t safe?”
“I assure you, Ambassador, the working part of the mine is structurally sound. We are assessing damage to an older part of the mine, far from the tunnels under excavation.”
“The earthquake occurred within the perimeter covered by our agreement,” Oltu said. “I am obliged to inspect and enact repair. I have the right to stipulate a minimum four months.”
Tekut spluttered. “Absurd!”
The Regent turned to his aides consulting hand-held devices. One grimaced, looked up and nodded. Tekut turned ashen. He studied Oltu, and then Gabrielle. “Dralexi is not exclusive to the Qui Empire. We have other options, First Lord. If Dralexi cannot honor our agreement with you, then we will action our right to cancel the agreement and pay the stipulated compensation.”
Oltu swished his wings. “I see.”
Gabrielle held her breath. Tekut and Oltu engaged in a battle she dared not interrupt.
“Dralexi is prohibited from trading with the Surashan Empire,” Oltu declared.
“Yes.”
“If Dralexi took this path, I am honor bound to forfeit the life of Dralexi’s tribute.”
Gabrielle’s stomach turned over. Fuck his honor. She kept her eyes fixed on Tekut as a murmur of protest ran around the watching Dralexin nobles. Her fists clenched.
Tekut hesitated, swallowed. “Our Queen serves her planet well.”
Shit. Was that the Regent telling Oltu to go ahead? Did he think Oltu bluffed? Tekut’s threat to sell to another supplier had thrown a grenade into their prepared script, an unexpected problem to resolve, but the Regent’s callous indifference to Saiorse’s fate sickened her. She didn’t know who she despised more.
Oltu’s visage had darkened. His wings bristled with anger. A raw menace emanated from him. “I see.” He turned. “Saiorse, attend me.”
Gabrielle frowned, wary of Oltu’s intention. She wouldn’t put anything past him, but killing Saiorse? Her heart raced. Blood rushed to her cheeks. Maybe he could. Savagery rolled off Oltu in thick waves, a pheromonal cloud of male dominance.
On the point of voicing her objection, Oltu growled and threw her a quelling glance.
Gabrielle bit her tongue. They’d agreed. He led the negotiations—his realm, his play.
She didn’t like it. She didn’t trust him. He made her dirty, her principles slipping in his slimy wake.
Tekut had shuffled forward and now perched on the edge of his throne. He looked both excited and appalled as Saiorse stepped around Oltu and dropped before him, her head bowed, her lithe body exposed by the sheer sparsity of her clothing.
Gabrielle glanced behind her to the Dralexin nobility. Was no one going to object?
A young male shoved through the Dralexin ranks, well-dressed, armed with a sword, his eyes sparking anger. “No!” He turned to Tekut. “Enough! You exceed your authority!”
Gabrielle caught Saiorse’s tremble and suppressed a gasp. This Dralexin had to be Oltu’s inside contact, and he loved Saiorse; the intensity of his distress had no other explanation. Oltu had used his tribute as leverage to solicit the man’s cooperation for years. The Qui knew no bounds. Revulsion soured her mouth. She couldn’t contain her disgust.
“First Lord Oltu!”
Oltu stilled and then turned to face her, his eyes ablaze. She undermined him, challenged the Qui traditions he revered. Her chin lifted. “You can’t do this!”
The muttering Dralexin court fell silent.
Oltu palmed the pommel of his sword. “Gabrielle, it is Saiorse, or your people. You speak for Earth. Do you wish I walk away?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Oltu’s question cut straight down the center of her core: Saiorse’s life or the freedom of her people. Each trapped by a sordid deal between cold-blooded aliens. The moral dichotomy rocked her ability to think. Tears sprang to her eyes. A sob rent from her throat and then Oltu stood facing her, his lizard eyes aglow, except softer as if with concern.
“Do not answer,” he growled.
Her knees trembled.
His gaze bared her soul. He leaned close, his voice a gentle breeze in her hair. “You made me promise—never beyond your endurance. I too have my limits. Trust me, Gabrielle.”
Relief shuddered through her. The very existence of that choice terrified her.
Trust him? Conflict rocked her.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Oltu nodded, spun back to his tribute.
Gabrielle turned cold as she watched him draw his sword.
An Arctic wind bound her in chains, she could not move.
The sword’s lethal blade arced through the air, a flowing unstoppable motion that sliced off a strand of hair from Saiorse’s bowed head. A massive blow of metal against polished stone reverberated across the room.
Gabrielle gasped. Air refilled her lungs. A displaced chip of white marble rested millimeters from the sword’s lethal tip embedded between the Dralexin Queen’s knees.
If Oltu had been a fraction off...
“Saiorse,” Oltu intoned, commanding attention
from every creature in that room. “I hereby grant your freedom. I restore your former rights and titles. Although you remain Dralexin’s tribute to the Qui court of Katar, you are no longer in my service or subject to my command.”
Tekut jumped to his feet. “What is this?”
Saiorse lifted her head as the Qui tugged his sword free and holstered the sword. She took Oltu’s offered hand and rose. She smiled at the Dralexin knight who had jumped to her defense and who now stood with sword drawn, ready for battle. He lowered his blade, stunned relief in his expression.
Saiorse returned her lover’s gaze with the sweetest smile and a massive lump filled Gabrielle’s throat. “Sir Vraydon.” Saiorse said, her tone shamelessly coquettish. “I beg your indulgence a little longer.”
A goofy grin possessed Vraydon’s face. The Dralexin’s eyes sparkled. He glanced at Oltu in a way that suggested a dawning comprehension. Gabrielle could hardly keep up, her emotions in turmoil, in that second filled with happiness for Saiorse and instinctive affection for the Dralexin who so openly adored his queen. She wiped a tear from her eyes. She didn’t want to miss a second.
“First Lord Oltu,” Saiorse said, her voice ringing to the walls and back. “In granting my freedom, you forfeit your right to execute me for Dralexi’s breach of agreement with the Qui Empire. Am I correct?”
Oltu inclined his head. “You are correct, Sovereign.”
“Sovereign?” Tekut stood, puffed with outrage.
Saiorse looked his way. “Yes, Tekut. Sovereign Queen of Dralexi.” Her gaze shifted behind him and she turned to face him. “I believe that is my chair.”
Vraydon snapped his fingers at Tekut’s aides. “Consult the Dralexin Qui Treaty.”
One stepped forward. “I have. The First Lord has the right to restore Queen Saiorse’s position by way of granting her freedom. He has not renounced her tribute status, and so the Dralexin Qui Treaty remains in force. The arrangement is unusual, but there is precedent, the Qui Empress—”
Saiorse raised a hand. “And by Dralexin constitutional law, a legal sovereign outranks a court-appointed Regent. Am I correct, Litor?”
The elderly aide nodded. “Indeed, Sovereign.”
A Dralexin female ran forward, fingers unpinning her cape. “My Queen,” she fussed, wrapping the garment around Saiorse and fastening it at the neck.
Saiorse caressed the Dralexin’s cheek, smiled, and then turned. She walked towards the throne, up the steps, and stood eyeball to eyeball with Tekut. She murmured something quietly and the Regent stepped aside, his face pale. Saiorse assumed her throne, a different woman to the tribute Gabrielle had known, and yet the same.
The Queen looked to Oltu. “I counter your four-month stipulation for inspecting the mine, and grant you one week, First Lord Oltu.”
“I see,” Oltu responded.
“What compensation do you offer for the humans’ release?”
“Compensation? A half million danuble.”
“Two million.”
Oltu growled. “One. I go no higher.”
Saiorse rose from her throne, her penetrating gaze challenging the nobles of her court, the ministers of the Dralexi government, and the First Lord of Katar. “My world has forgotten its history. Do you forget our ancestors died to assert our right to independence, our right to freedom, our right to choose our trading partners, our right to shape our destiny?” Her voice rose, powerful and true, reaching every corner of her kingdom. “What have we become? The enslavement of another species brings us shame! To subjugate for advantage brings us low.”
Her gaze fell on Oltu, an uncomfortable moment that had Gabrielle glancing for his reaction. The First Lord of Katar stood rigid, his expression unreadable.
Saiorse moved on to her nobles. “I am your Queen! And it is my constitutional right to reject this path! I will not rule this way!”
The restored sovereign dominated the room with her passion and her fury. Gabrielle could not tear her eyes away. Her heart pounded. Her blood thrilled with excitement. Oltu had lit a fuse and his obedient tribute exploded into a brilliant force for change.
“Dralexi will no longer profit off the backs of those who share our values, who share our aspirations. Ambassador Gabrielle represents a world that has earned its freedom, a world that forced the Qui Empire to an impasse, refused to surrender unto Qui dominion! Such a feat must be venerated for the Qui Empire can be merciless to its enemies, and if we do not see that enslavement of others confiscates our right to freedom, then,” her voice dropped, “our ancestors died in vain and our own subjugation will follow as the moral authority underwriting our independence crumbles under the weight of hypocrisy and greed!”
Saiorse paused, her narrowed eyes aglitter. “Who dares challenge my rule?”
Vraydon dropped to his knees, head bowed, and forearm crossing his knee.
Oltu followed.
Stunned, Gabrielle let her heart guide her. As her knees hit the marble floor, she willed the Dralexin Court to return to the path set for them by their ancestors.
Slowly, surely, thuds echoed through the chamber, a pledge of affirmation. Saiorse surveyed them, waiting until Tekut too, grudgingly offered the customary respect to his sovereign queen.
“Please rise.”
Gabrielle had goose bumps, nerve ends electrified, transfixed by Saiorse’s control of everyone in that room. She’d underestimated Oltu’s tribute, mistaken devoted obedience for fear, seeing only subjugation where Saiorse performed a sacred sworn duty on behalf of her entire race.
“My lord,” Saiorse addressed Oltu. “I accept your offer. One million danuble. See the humans returned to their home world.”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened. She’d known the hard facts of Qui culture going into these negotiations, listened to Saiorse bargain with Oltu, but Saiorse had inspired her, given her hope. The taste of victory soured the moment Saiorse equated the freedom of her people with a monetary value. Dralexi returned their purchase to the seller for a refund.
“You are dismissed, First Lord Oltu.” Saiorse’s voice hardened. “I prefer not to see you again.” Her expression softened as she looked to Gabrielle. “Ambassador.”
Gabrielle nodded, but could not smile. She wanted to go.
Oltu hitched a quiet breath, his response delayed, but then he bowed, nodded to Vraydon, and turned to Gabrielle, his emerald eyes dark and stormy. Saiorse’s final rebuke had hit low.
Good. He deserved worse.
Oltu grasped her elbow and ushered Gabrielle from the room, an unstoppable force.
He didn’t let go until they were outside the hall when Gabrielle swung in and blocked his path. She eyed him in aggrieved silence, watched the remaining light in his lizard eyes fade to black. She reverted to English.
“So much for a united front! You lied to us from the start.”
His ridged brow thickened. “How did I lie?”
“For one the earthquake was more than cover for my brother’s escape!”
He shrugged, stepped around her, and stalked away, forcing her to catch up with him. So petty.
“And Saiorse?” she demanded, breathless from anger as much as from matching his stride back to their ship.
“Our negotiations are concluded. Transports will collect your people and return them to the Thrak ‘Katar. My mother will return you to Earth, for I must make arrangements for a million danuble.”
“Your mother?” Gabrielle’s spirits sank even lower. “K’rista is on that warship?”
“She is needed on Earth for the birth of Crendea’s child. My mother has unparalleled experience with Qui offspring.”
“Her child is human.”
“With Qui genes.”
“We won’t let you take the baby!”
This time Oltu blocked her. “No one intends to take Crendea’s baby. The Qui are interested in the child’s future. He will have need of us. That child means more than you can imagine to the Qui Empire.”
Gabrielle shelved the argumen
t. Time would tell. “So did you intend to free Saiorse the whole time?”
Oltu inhaled a deep breath and resumed a slower pace back to the ship, one Gabrielle could fall in with more easily. “It was a recent decision, a better solution to war. My Dralexin source had warned me of recent Surashan interest in trade. Independence from the Qui Empire does not allow for collusion with the empire’s enemies. Smuggling is normal near the borders, but Surashan incursion into Qui affairs is a threat that must be eradicated. I could not allow our enemy access to Dralexi zirconium and Saiorse would never jeopardize their treaty with the Qui Empire. The Qui Empress has ordered increased K’lahn patrols to Dralexin space, but it won’t be necessary. The Surashan have all the zircon they need within their own Empire.”
“I see.”
So Oltu worked for Qui interests, as always; the moral rights and wrongs irrelevant. To Oltu, humans were little more than a convenient tool to use in their war against the Surashan. She hated him, loathed him, despised him with every fiber of her being, and still she wanted to cry, to curl into a tiny ball and weep her heart out, for the news of their imminent separation was carving a dark hole inside her, a painful slow wound she could not explain, and one that would eat her alive for a long time to come.
Oltu had lied.
Without even touching her, he had taken her well beyond her endurance.
“So, this is goodbye then.”
Oltu nodded. Gabrielle studied his expression trying to see past the reptilian visage to the Qui within, hoping, no, praying, that she hadn’t imagined those elusive glimpses of a gentler spirit inside. She hardly remembered the Qui who’d rescued her off a precarious cliff face those few weeks ago, and yet Oltu was as much alien as he ever was. A Qui’s scales never changed.
Only this one broke her heart.
He couldn’t know. She would never let him know.
Her voice thickened. “I think it for the best.”