by Shae Mills
Korba rose to his feet and extended his hand to the inert man. Finally, Terig pushed to his feet and grasped the Emperor’s hand.
Korba spoke. “I am desperate to keep her safe. She knows full well that my excuses for not letting her accompany me are exhausted. Despite my abject fear over her safety, she is more than worthy of the task, her input just as valuable as that of any of my best engineers. So for me to do what I have forbidden to her...” He squeezed Terig’s hand hard. “Just do what you need to. I will not ask you to do anything distasteful to you or dangerous to her, but other than that... anything is possible. Use your imagination.”
Terig felt his stomach clench, and he knew not whether that was a good thing. “Yes, my Lord. I will do whatever it takes to rid you of your trouble, so to speak.”
CHELAN SAT SLUMPED in the main command chair, her fingers massaging her aching temples. It had been weeks since she had been on board RIBUS 7, weeks of unprecedented frustration. She knew it was futile to beg Korba any further about a return visit. His displeasure displayed with her yet again this morning had set that aside once and for all.
Regardless, she found herself now wracking her brain on how to get there herself. But her options were dismal.
She fell back into the chair and groaned. Simply put, for the safety of the whole operation, security was extremely tight, and getting through that security covertly was impossible. Of course, she could order men to take her, but then Korba would know in a heartbeat. She sighed. She could commandeer a shuttle and threaten the pilot, but eventually that would end with her at the Emperor’s mercy one way or another too. And with his threat being the destruction of RIBUS 7 itself, well, everything looked futile.
She pushed to her feet and began pacing a well-worn track in the Command Center’s floor. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to be so protective, and why the hell did he have to be so powerful? She had worked continually with the officers of the salvage and repair teams, attending all meetings and giving as much input as anyone, being treated as a valuable equal by one and all, but she was the only person not allowed on board the ship.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the main doors opening. Chelan whirled around expecting to confront Korba yet again, only to face Terig instead. She had not seen the man since their original encounter, and her eyes widened with surprise.
He stepped into the Command Center a few paces and stopped, his face alight. “My Lady,” he greeted, and he bowed.
Chelan glanced over him. Today he wore skin-tight black breeches with the same familiar knee-high boots. His white shirt was open down his chest but tucked snugly into his pants. A black jacket covered his torso to his midsection, but it was more than his intriguing garb that caught her eye. She looked to his side where his right hand rested comfortably on the hilt of a claymore sheathed fitfully within its scabbard.
Weapons rarely made it through the Command Center security, especially those wielded by aliens, but somehow this armed man had free rein.
Chelan suddenly realized she was staring, and she blushed and curtsied at the same time. “My Lord,” she whispered almost breathlessly.
He chuckled. “We are back to that, are we?”
Chelan blinked at him. “My Lord?”
He stepped down to her and stopped just in front of her. “The ‘my Lord’ thing,” he informed her. “Unless the casual use of my first name renders you uncomfortable, of course?”
For some reason everything about this man rendered Chelan uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. “No, no,” she uttered, finally managing to smile. “It is just that I have been in the company of ‘Lords’ for so long, well, it is just second nature.” His deep laugh almost startled her.
“Then so be it, my Lady. But please tell me with what you are comfortable with regard to your own personal address?”
“Chelan is fine. I must admit that I am not actually used to ‘my Lady’ in the truly formal sense yet. As you intimated, whatever is comfortable is the course to follow.”
He smiled warmly as his green eyes observed everything about the lovely Earth woman clad in the body-hugging white gown. “How about ‘beautiful woman’?”
Chelan turned crimson and averted her eyes. “I thank you, my Lord, but with that I am not comfortable.” She looked up into his sparkling eyes and had to repress an unexpected urge to flee.
“That is the furthest from my intentions, fair lady... though I spoke the truth.”
Chelan cleared her throat and hastily changed the topic. “Uh, have you been to see Korba today?”
He nodded. “Yes, for some more business, but it was quickly dispensed with.”
Chelan found herself breathing a little more easily. “And now?”
“Well, that is actually up to you.”
Chelan straightened. “How so?”
“As it happens, your Lordship mentioned your displeasure with him as of late. So we came up with a temporary solution—a diversion, you might say—to cool the debate on both sides for but a moment. He has given his blessings to us, if you are amenable.”
Chelan eyed the man warily. “Uh-huh. Amenable to what?”
“A vacation of sorts. I thought I would offer you a tour of my planet for a day. If we were to leave now, I could return you on the morrow, or early afternoon.”
Chelan instantly lost all her self-consciousness, and she folded her arms across her chest. “This was your idea, or his?”
Terig was temporarily addled. “Uh... Well, honestly, I had thought of it long ago, but his Lordship did mention recently that you might enjoy a little side adventure. Why do you ask?”
Chelan sighed, releasing her arms. “I was wondering if he was trying to... detain me somehow.”
Terig frowned. “One day would hardly detain you for long, Madame. So my offer is not a very good solution to the long-term problem at hand.”
Chelan didn’t hesitate a moment more. The thought of exploring another strange new world suddenly eclipsed all else. “I would love to visit your planet. You were thinking of leaving now?”
“No time like the present, if you are available?”
Chelan nodded. “If you will give me a second, I will change to my uniform and check on my children.”
Terig felt relief flow through his bones. “Great! My transport lies within the main supply hangar. Korba has some of your men alerted, anticipating your acceptance, I believe. They will accompany us.”
Chelan frowned. “Damn security.”
Terig raised his brows. “For your own good, my Lady.”
She looked at him hard. “You do not know what it is like to be under a constant microscope, Terig. Outside of the Center here, my every move is monitored.”
Terig glanced about him, his voice full of compassion. “At least this is a refuge, my Lady. Many do not even have that.”
Chelan studied his warm face. “And what of you, my Lord? You are an exceptionally busy man. Do you have a refuge?”
“Yes, I do, my Lady—one I will be happy to show you.” And with that, he nodded with a broad smile on his face, turned on his heel, and left.
Chelan’s thoughts scattered. Suddenly her curiosity blossomed. She wanted to know everything about the man and his home. He had mentioned that his first name was Terig. Did he have more? And his parting statement, though Iceanean, held a flare of an accent that touched her soul. Cleosan? No. The Ambassador had no such inflection. And the claymore? It was exactly that, and not an Iceanean sword. Or was it? After all, the weapon could hail from anywhere in the galaxy. Chelan shook her head and took in a deep breath. It was time to go. She needed to inform Marri and change into her uniform quickly. Terig would be waiting. And for some reason, her excitement took off.
SHE FOUND TERIG RIGHT away, the man surrounded by Yanis and many other top security personnel. At her arrival, he bowed to her and then ushered her into the cockpit of a small shuttle. He took the helm, and within moments, they were airborne.
Chelan looked abo
ut her in awe, realizing immediately there was no antigravity field. But there were the familiar holographic displays that guided the man easily.
When he was finished making adjustments to the shuttle’s controls, he sat back in his chair and looked at her. “Well?”
Chelan had so many questions in her head, she didn’t know where to start. “How long is the trip?”
He smiled. “Not long. RIBUS 1 is practically in orbit above Cleos.”
Chelan nodded. “You do not have to actively pilot the ship?”
“No, she is on auto. She knows where she is going.”
Chelan smiled. “Been this route before, hey?”
“Many times in the past few weeks. She is on a preprogrammed course, one of many. I can take over at any time if I wish, but for this little journey, that is not necessary.”
Chelan nodded. “So, what will I see? Lots of sand, I suppose?”
Terig’s head fell back as he laughed heartily. “You could. But that is not very interesting. Cleos is mostly one huge continent of sand. She has a single lonely, briny sea, probably about double the size of your Atlantic Ocean. But that is about it. The Cleosans live underground, as you know, and all the fresh water they need is filtered from the ocean. She is indeed bleak.”
“Well, obviously you do not mind living there.”
Terig shuffled in his seat slightly. “I do mind, actually. I hate the underground and I hate the heat. So I have my own little estate on the northernmost point of the continent bordering the sea. I am sure you will be more than taken with my home, and I have deliberately kept the windows of my shuttle blacked out as we descend because I want to surprise you completely. And we should be arriving...”—he looked over the instruments—“... Right about now.”
Chelan felt the ship slow and then stop. Terig stood, reaching behind him for his sword. Suddenly, several questions she had had flooded back into her head. The claymore and scabbard, now seen up close, were definitely nothing like the swords the Iceaneans used.
She glanced up at him, but before she could utter a word, he extended his hand. “My Lady, welcome to my domain.”
Chelan accepted his help, and he led her from the cockpit and out into the main seating area of the shuttle. With the touch of his hand, a door began separating, the top half rising, the lower one settling as a ramp to the ground.
Chelan halted at the threshold, her eyes widening. Then she stared at Terig. “I... do not understand.”
Terig chuckled as he walked down the ramp and then turned to face her. He raised his hands up. “Well, what do you think?”
Chelan watched her step carefully as she made her way down the incline. Then she stopped. All around her were lush, green grassy knolls, giving away to heather-covered highlands. Then her ears perked. She rounded the ship and clutched her chest.
Before her, just below the beautiful cliffs upon which they stood, was the thundering crash of the surf, the vast gray-blue sea disappearing over the distant horizon.
Chelan gazed at the light purple sky and then finally back to Terig. “Wow. I mean, I really do not understand. Where have you taken me?”
Terig walked up to her and bowed. “Korba thought you would enjoy this, my Lady. In fact, he was well aware that you would be more than a little taken by my rather unique empire.”
Chelan peered at him in amazement. “This is Cleos?”
“Well, yes and no.”
Just then Chelan looked up: Imperial fighters blasted through the cloudless sky. Terig glanced at her. “Our escorts and your security, my Lady. Ever present.”
Chelan clutched at her neck. “I am still confused. I don’t...”
He stepped closer to her. With his right hand on the hilt of his sword, he bowed deeply and then rose. “Allow me to formally introduce myself, my Lady,” he began in perfect English. “I am Lord Terig Fraser Mackenzie, at yer service.”
Chelan was staggered. The last part of his phrase had been thick with a perfect Scottish burr. When she had gathered her wits about her, she finally spoke. “Now, my Lord, I am afraid you have me totally dumbfounded.”
“Well, not to worry. You’ll have ample time to grill me. I have nothing to hide.”
Chelan glanced at his weapon and nodded to it. “May I see that, sir?” she asked, finally switching to English, the sound of her own words suddenly foreign.
Terig immediately complied, drawing the blade easily from its scabbard. Chelan stared at it as he held it before her. It was not the familiar blue-black blade she was so accustomed to now. Her questioning eyes met his.
“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Seventeenth-century—Earth,” he added.
“You’ve been to Earth?” she asked in astonishment.
“Yes. In fact, I’m of Earth, mostly. Actually, only genetically.”
“I’m afraid you have once again disadvantaged me, my Lord.”
Terig thrust the claymore home into its sheath. “You’re aware of the Telesians’ visits to our planet, are you not?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of their visits, or supposed visits. Some witnesses claim they have had medical tests forced upon them. But everything is suspect and shrouded by sketchy information.”
Terig nodded to her. “Come. Walk with me and I’ll explain.”
They started out over the moors, Chelan loving the warmth on her flesh, the soft breeze bringing her the scents of many flowers. But she also knew she was being protected by her uniform from what could turn out to be oppressive heat if she were to wander too far from the ocean.
Terig spoke. “The Telesians do collect genetic species from all over the galaxy. They farm beings, you might say. Although the Empire frowns on it somewhat, the process does continue under Imperial supervision. The subjects are raised, studied, trained, educated, and eventually released.”
“Released where?”
“Well, to their home planets usually, to collect more data, but in my case, I chose to reside on Cleos because I found the Cleosan culture fascinating, and also because it was close to my roots, you might say. So, from here, I do the Telesians’ bidding, as I was ordained to do.”
“On Earth, you mean?”
“Yes. I’d always been curious about my rather dubious parentage. The Telesians keep no secrets. When I found out that the donors of my genetic information were from Earth—Scotland, in particular—I was more than happy to participate in what I was raised to do. But early on, by happenstance, I met some Cleosans, and I became enthralled with them. Over time I’ve come to help them with their dealings with the Empire. And in my spare time, I visit Earth for the Telesians.”
“But you just said that the farmed beings are usually returned to their own home planets. Why did the Telesians allow you to relocate on Cleos?”
“I assured them I’d do my part to collect Earth data for them, but the Empire also took note of me rather early on, mostly for my negotiating skills, but also because I turned out to be a fairly brilliant military tactician. So as a compromise, I was allowed to reside where I wished as long as I helped both the Telesians and the Empire.”
“That’s how you met Korba?”
“Well, anyone with anything to do with the Empire has heard of the man. When he felled Ticees, anyone in the galaxy who may have somehow missed his name and reputation soon came to know of him. But I didn’t meet him until more recently.”
“Have you met your parents?”
Terig smiled down at her, his voice once again taking on a Scottish inflection. “Aye, lass, that I have. Though they know not that I am their son.”
Chelan glanced down at the lush vegetation as she stepped along softly. “Is that hard for you?”
Terig looked out over the land. “Not really. I always knew my situation, my entire history, since I was old enough to understand. They were never my parents in a real sense, only genetic donors.”
“Have you no desire to live there?”
Terig stopped walking. “No. With all my knowledge, and all the technology I’m
accustomed to, I’d be but a caged animal there. Our Earth is pretty primitive, my Lady.”
Chelan glanced away. “Yes, it is.”
“Could you go back?”
She smiled at him. “No. I mean, I would love to visit my brother all the time if I could, but to live there again? No.”
“Well, for the record, I have gone back for extended stays, but I always return here.” He paused. “I have much more to show you. Shall we continue with our little tour?”
Chelan nodded. “Why yes, of course! Where to next?”
“First, our transportation awaits just over that ridge.”
Chelan looked up the moor just in time to witness what appeared to be a magnificent black stallion come galloping toward them. She had to blink several times to be sure of what she was witnessing. “Oh my,” she uttered in wonder.
The horse kicked up his heels as he bolted toward them at an astonishing speed. The sun shone on his glistening coat, almost giving him the same blue iridescence as the Iceaneans’ hair. His long full mane and tail streamed out behind him, his hooves barely touching the heather as he raced.
Then Chelan stiffened. As he neared, she realized just how much she had misjudged his size. The beast, skidding to a halt mere meters from them, caused her to gasp. He was monumentally large, and she automatically clutched at Terig’s arm.
The man looked down at her and smiled. Her eyes were sparkling, her face alight with awe.
“Oh Terig,” she uttered. “He’s beautiful.” She stared at the black’s noble face; his deep ebony eyes and flaring nostrils were a sight. She glanced up at Terig. “Is he tame? I mean, may I touch him?”
“You certainly may, my Lady.”
Chelan released Terig’s arm and slowly approached the horse, his brilliant gaze never leaving hers. She stroked his face gently, and his eyes closed to her touch. Chelan smiled and glanced at Terig. “Back home we had access to many horses. But most of the time, when you first try to touch them, they shy away.”