“You think I’m a sure thing.” A hand wrapped into Julian’s hair, tugging in reaction as one of Julian’s hands snaked down his pants.
“Aren’t you?” A protest was drowned out as Julian fisted Ellis’s cock. “It seems to me that you’ve been aching for me since you came aboard.” Ellis didn’t deny it and Julian began to stroke his dick with purposeful movements. “If you tell me you don’t want it, I’ll stop.”
“Don’t stop.”
Their angry words were forgotten and Julian wondered why it felt so easy to forgive the interaction they’d had. His heartbeat seemed to strum out the answer, but he ignored it.
Julian grinned against Ellis’s neck. He continued to work the other man’s prick, his hand quickly dampening with pre-come and sweat. Ellis whimpered and jerked his hips in time to Julian’s movements, driving Julian to move faster. Several torturous minutes later, he bit down on Ellis’s neck and the smaller man came with a cry.
Ellis was reduced to a quivering lump beneath him, but managed to raise his head for a kiss. Julian’s tongue flicked out to taste him, finding that familiar sweetness he’d been craving since his lover had stormed off the bridge the night before.
“You didn’t…” Ellis murmured. Sex-induced drowsiness was already slurring his words.
Julian manhandled Ellis up the length of the bed. “Later.”
Ellis smiled. “Well, since you’ve decided to play nice…” He slipped out of Julian’s embrace and rose to collect his bag. Julian waited expectantly, his eyes widening when he saw the small bundle of tinfoil that appeared in Ellis’s hand.
“Is that—”
Ellis unwrapped small a corner and the heady smell of chocolate filled the air.
Chapter Seven
En Route to Coalition Spaceport “Aladosia”
Coalition Standard Date 108-512.5
Julian stepped onto the observation deck’s glassy black floor. Ellis stood alone, staring out the plastiglass window at the stars. It struck him how…lonely Ellis appeared. In the time since boarding the Kestrel, Julian couldn’t remember his lover ever being so pensive. Dark eyes beheld the galaxy, lighting up with the pinpoints of light visible beyond the viewing portal. Ellis stood at lax attention, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He didn’t look up, even when Julian’s audible footsteps echoed throughout the room.
He moved up behind Ellis and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s shoulders. Ellis relaxed into his embrace and Julian rested his head on soft black hair.
“I thought everyone became immune to stargazing after a year of space travel.”
“Not everyone,” Ellis said. “They remind me of a…story I heard, years ago.”
“Oh?” Julian waited patiently for him to continue.
“It’s said that the universe was once a single galaxy that orbited one star. The star had a Keeper, who was ancient and lonely. Unaging, he watched the worlds around him grow and develop, but his duty was to the star and he could not leave it. Over time, his loneliness grew and finally he decided that if he split the star into a million pieces, he would be able to visit each world. That’s where stars come from, and that’s how the universe was created.”
“Science notwithstanding, being a billion miles away and untouchable still seems lonely to me.”
“Yes,” Ellis said, sadly, “and after he’d done it, he found himself changing as well. Without the star, he began to grow old and decrepit. He knew that he wouldn’t have the time to visit each world. So he split himself as well. For each star, a new Keeper was created. Star elves. Like the ancient, they were bound to the lifetime of their star, but the Keeper did not want to wish loneliness on them as well. So with the last of his will, he bid that a soulmate be born for each of them. If the soulmate were found, they could live the way the Keeper had always dreamt: mortal, and loved by one person completely until the end of their days.”
“Huh. And they’d be tied to one person forever?”
Ellis nodded and tilted his head. Seeing something in Julian’s expression, he leaned into their embrace. “Would you be keen on the idea of waking up next to the same person every morning?”
Julian’s breath caught in his throat. The warmth of Ellis’s back against his chest stilled him in place, and his heart beat hard in his ears. “The idea has its allures.”
“Dare one ask what inducement would be required to make you think kindly on the subject?”
Julian considered the words for a few moments. “The war would have to be over.” He frowned. “And they would have to want to stay in space.”
“Oh? You wouldn’t want someone waiting on some distant world for your return home as you explore the dark recesses of the galaxy?” His voice was still half-laughing, but Julian sensed real curiosity behind the question.
“My father was a Coalition Admiral. For years, all we knew of him were the stories my mother told and the vague memories of his short-lived visits home. I always swore to myself that if I found someone willing to share their life with me, they would have to share the stars as well.”
Ellis nodded. “Understandable.”
They stood in comfortable silence, until Ellis’s breath ghosting over Julian’s cheek became too much to bear.
“How does the story end?”
“One by one, the star elves found their soulmates. And one by one, they gave up the immortal part of themselves. The stars remained constant, perhaps comforted by the knowledge that their Keepers would never be lonely. Millennia passed, until finally there was just one elf left.”
“That’s ironic.”
Ellis lifted a curious eyebrow.
“It seems to me that if they hadn’t found their soulmate, and all the rest of their kind were dead and gone, they would be just as lonely as the ancient you mentioned earlier.”
“Yes. I guess I see the irony.” Ellis mustered a smile. “But can you imagine the joy he’d feel when he finally found the man he’d spent his entire lifetime searching for?”
Julian opened his mouth to answer when his communicator buzzed violently at his side. Sighing, he retrieved it from his side. “Yes?”
“Captain, we’ve picked up a distress signal from a nearby merchant ship. They appear to be having engine troubles.”
Julian’s lips curled into a smirk. “I’ll be right there.” He turned to Ellis. “Thank you for the story.” He started to leave. Pausing, he glanced back. “I hope that, for his sake, the elf you spoke of eventually found his soulmate.”
He was half out of the door when an elusive whisper caught his ear.
“Yes. I believe he did.”
Chapter Eight
Bridge of the Maligned Kestrel
Coalition Standard Date 108-512.5
“What’s the designation?” Julian asked.
His communications officer reviewed the information. “The Bellivere, sir. Designation Coalition trading vessel.”
Julian stared at the screen. Something felt off. The ship was big for a trader, but during war it was not unheard of to enlist every available resource. He gestured for his officer to relay the distress message again. He was able to discern most of the message, though it was rife with the static crackle of a poorly maintained or interrupted signal.
Engine problems. Unable to send out long-distance calls for assistance.
“Hail them.” The familiar opening chirp of their hail followed, but nothing appeared on the screen before him.
“This is Captain Curtayne of the Bellivere. Thank you for responding to our distress call.”
Julian frowned. “This is Captain Julian Gaspar of the Maligned Kestrel. We’re not getting any visual, Captain.”
“Our signal transmitters were damaged, along with our engine.” There was a brief pause. “Your reputation precedes you, Captain Gaspar. I’m infinitely pleased that you responded to our call.” The words sent a shiver up Julian’s back. “We must beg your assistance. Our engines are incapable of getting us to the nearby deep-space port an
d our chief engineer was killed during the accident. We thought we would be trapped here indefinitely.”
Julian considered the words. “What happened to your engines, exactly?”
“Our ion transmitters were badly damaged by a Frenze attack. We managed to fight them off, but it left us in dire straits indeed.”
Julian glanced at his navigator, muting the comm system. “Are we close enough to the Frenze for them to instigate their attack patterns?”
The younger man punched in a few coordinates. “It would put them outside their comfort zone, but it’s not unheard of.”
Julian brought the comm back online. “How can we help you?”
“If we could but borrow your chief engineer to assist our Smews with their repairs, we could be underway within a few days.” Julian considered the request. “We would, of course, relay word of your assistance to Admiral Gaston.”
That certainly made the offer more tempting. Julian had been on Gaston’s blacklist since inadvertently attacking one of his private ships.
“All right. I and a few of my crew will shuttle over to assist with your repairs. Prepare to receive us.” He ended the relay and stood. “You have command, Orifian. Hail Barth and ask him to meet me in the shuttle bay.”
Orifian nodded and moved to send the message. Julian headed towards the door, surprised when it slid open to reveal Ellis standing on the other side.
He ushered the younger man to the lift before Orifian could notice him. “You know, you’re not giving him much reason to disprove his spy theory.”
As soon as the doors closed behind them, Ellis pushed Julian against the wall of the lift. He curled his body against Julian’s and gently pressed their lips together. Of their own accord, Julian’s hands came to rest on Ellis’s slim hips and drew him closer. The kiss deepened quickly, leaving Julian breathless and addled.
“I want to come with you,” Ellis said, finally pulling away.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be apart from you.”
Julian frowned.
“Please?” Ellis finally coaxed a reluctant nod. Smiling, he stepped away just in time for the lift to come to a stop.
The doors slid open on the shuttle bay and Barth patiently awaiting them.
“You’re coming along, snippet?” Barth asked Ellis, who nodded and went to claim a seat on the shuttle. Barth hung back and Julian paused in his step.
“What is it?”
“I did some remote scans on their system specs while Orifian was ordering me about. They said they were in a skirmish with the Frenze?”
Julian nodded.
“There’s no sign of it. Their shields are still at full strength. Hell, they’re better equipped than we are. If they’re having engine troubles, it wasn’t caused by any firefight.”
“You’re expecting trouble?”
Barth sniffed. “I always expect trouble.”
Julian moved to a nearby weapons locker to retrieve a few items that would potentially come in handy. He tossed Barth an easily concealed laser pistol and clipped one of the bigger blasters to his side.
“If they do decide to attack, our shields won’t last long against what they can dish out.”
“When we pull into the Coalition spaceport next week, maybe I’ll invest in the buffers you keep suggesting.” Julian tamped down the sudden worry that was nagging at his mind. He trusted his instincts, and Barth’s were generally spot-on. If the Cembrian was getting the same sense of foreboding, then he needed to make sure they were prepared to deal with whatever the captain and crew of the Bellivere might be planning.
Once Barth had boarded the shuttle, he touched his communicator. “Mr. Orifian? Should you not hear from us within the hour, come and get us.”
“Understood, sir.”
Julian boarded and took the pilot’s seat. The deep-space craft had been provided by the Coalition, but Barth had performed enough modifications to make sure they wouldn’t ask for it back at the end of the war. The Eyas was probably capable of going long distances faster than the Kestrel herself. Julian checked to make sure the airlock had been engaged and pulled the shuttle out from the bay and headed towards the Bellivere.
Ellis scooted up to stand behind him. “That’s strange.”
“What?” Julian asked.
“Their escutcheon has been wiped.” He gestured towards the stern of the spaceship. Where the call sign was usually displayed, dark carbon markings had seared the metal plates.
Julian glanced at Barth. “I thought you said there weren’t any signs of a firefight.”
Barth frowned. “There weren’t.”
Julian pulled the shuttle towards the docking bay. The ship opened but the bad feeling did not dissipate. He hit the comm.
“Bellivere, this is the shuttle Eyas of the Maligned Kestrel. Prepare to receive us for docking.”
There was a quick affirmative from the other side and Julian easily steered the craft into the open bay. As the bay began to close behind them, he swallowed back a nervous bark of laughter.
“All right. Let’s go check out their engines,” he said, more for Ellis’s benefit than anything.
Barth shot him a droll look and moved to open the shuttle’s hatch. Julian kept his hand hovering next to the blaster on his belt and stepped forward to be the first off the ship.
As the plank lowered, he was greeted with the sight of a small army of the ship’s crew, all of their guns directed at him. He grabbed the butt of his blaster. Ellis lunged forward, grabbing his arm and preventing him from drawing. Their eyes met for just a moment and Julian nodded; this was not a fight they could win. He raised his hands away from his sides and gestured for Barth to do the same. He and Barth alone were armed, and the odds weren’t in their favor.
The sound of a hoverboard drew his attention across the bay. A figure huddled aboard the floating disc was slowly inching towards the shuttle. Julian began to distinguish its features as he drew closer. He got an eyeful of skin puckered with age, stretched too tightly over bone. He looked like a corpse.
“Zzesstari,” Ellis whispered from behind him.
Julian stiffened. He’d heard of the corpse-feelers once or twice; enough to know that the aliens dealt in lives. He glanced over his shoulder at Ellis, who’d grown even paler at the sight of the creature.
“Welcome aboard, Captain Gaspar. Thank you for your offer of assistance.”
Julian scowled. “Is it required?”
The alien laughed. “You have no idea.” He waved at his crew and several of them stepped onto the gangway of the shuttle. Julian’s first instinct was to knock them away, but the number of guns aimed at him forced his complicity. They disarmed him and marched the small party off the shuttle. “I’m so eminently pleased that you’ve come aboard the Ethervold.”
Julian’s jaw clenched; he knew of this ship and her merciless captain. “You would be Ezvorkian, then?”
“The same.”
“I know what you do to your prisoners.”
“It seems our reputations precede us both.”
“I’m not sure what you’re hoping to gain from the capture of me and mine, but believe me, the Kestrel is capable of doing some very real damage to your ship.”
“I doubt the Kestrel is capable of doing real damage to so much as an anthill.” Ezvorkian smiled. “Please show our guests to the brig.” A few of his crew jumped to obey. “I’m so sorry that I can’t entertain you properly quite yet. You did arrive a full two hours ahead of schedule.” Schedule? Julian’s heart hammered hard and he lunged at the pirate, ready to demand answers. Before he could get any closer, his arms were grabbed and he was forced away. When the others didn’t follow, Julian turned to see Ezvorkian’s withered hand cupping Ellis’s cheek.
His lover tried to pull away, and Ezvorkian replied by widening his grin. “But, then, I hadn’t expected such bounty, either.”
Chapter Nine
Aboard the Ethervold, heading unknown
Coaliti
on Standard Date 108-515.6
It was the silence before the lash of the whip that heightened the agony of its sting. Ezvorkian and his minions were eerily quiet, waiting until the crack of the leather snapping in the air tore the scream from Julian’s lungs. His back burned, and he could feel the blood running down his forearms from his wrists, rubbed raw against his restraints. The entire weight of his well-muscled frame hung off his shoulders, his knees barely allowed to touch the ground.
“What are you willing to sacrifice, Captain Gaspar?”
Ezvorkian had asked the same question a dozen times in the past hour, punctuating each iteration with a lash. Today they were using real whips. To a sick mind, it made sense; he had withstood the previous two days of torture with more delicate fiber technology and had not broken. In transgressing to something more primitive, they were trying to upgrade.
Heavy air pressed into his lungs, forcing him to fight for breath past the agony already choking his senses. Ezvorkian’s personal chambers were kept damp and humid, like the swamps that defined his homeworld.
“A week’s ration of synthetic whiskey.”
Ezvorkian’s face remained passive, but the whip fell again. Harder.
The breath was knocked out of Julian’s lungs and he coughed, struggling to draw in even a half-breath. When he finally managed to breathe through the pain, he forced himself to grin. “Fine. Two weeks’.”
Crack.
Julian was unable to hold back the sharp gasp of pain, and smirking victory began crawling across Ezvorkian’s face.
“What are you willing to sacrifice?”
What were they after? Julian wracked his brain for a reasonable answer. There’d been no word from the Kestrel and Ezvorkian hadn’t asked him about her routes or the war.
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