RIBUS 7

by Shae Mills

  Chelan advanced, executing a flawless release with her right hand. Then, during the follow through, she sank to one knee, using the momentum of her body to help her whip her left arm forward. The second blade hit the target slightly low.

  Dar was enthralled. For her size, her progress was nothing short of astonishing.

  Chelan slumped to the floor momentarily, catching her breath before she went to retrieve the knives. Her walk back from the target was slow and relaxed as her eyes methodically scanned the blades' surfaces, looking for any possible damage or imperfections.

  Dar stepped out of the shadows. Chelan caught his blonde hair in her peripheral vision and let out a small yelp. Her heart skipped a beat. "Dar," she uttered. "You startled me."

  "And you impress me. How long have you been throwing?"

  Chelan set the knives down as she caught her breath. "I've only been using the knives for about ten days, but Fremma has had me throwing for many weeks."

  Dar stopped in front of her. "I'm pleased. You would prove to be quite a formidable adversary if provoked," he smiled.

  Chelan looked up into his azure eyes and returned his smile. "A formidable adversary to an Earth person maybe, but hardly one to the people on this ship."

  "Don't sell yourself short, Chelan," Dar stated firmly. "With my people, your size can be an advantage. You carry on your side the element of surprise, a not-too-insignificant advantage."

  Chelan smiled wryly. "But what advantage I gain in surprise, I lose in reaction time, strength, endurance, and sheer mass. Hardly odds in my favor."

  Dar chuckled. "To begin with, it is not fair for you to compare yourself to the deadliest fighters in the known galaxy. But remember, if you surprise your opponent by landing the first significant blow, you reduce his advantage drastically. And if you move quickly, you maintain the upper hand. Chelan, it is a rare battle when the first struck is not the first to perish. A disabling blow disorients, confuses, and clouds the opponent's thoughts and reflexes. It sends both the mind and the body into disarray. Only the best of the best survive the ordeal to fight another day." Dar hesitated, drinking in all that she was, attracted and mesmerized additionally by her potentially lethal beauty.

  Chelan stepped up to him boldly. "I'd rather live to love another day than to fight," she said quietly as she brazenly took his lips with hers.

  Dar's arms immediately surrounded her. He pressed her into him, his shroud totally immersing her in blackness. Their kiss was passionate, for Dar had nearly forgotten how much he loved to devour her honeyed mouth. He languished in her sweet, inebriating scent as his hands caressed her svelte form.

  But it was Chelan who drew away first. "I've missed you, Dar."

  He smiled at her as he stroked her soft cheek and slender neck. "I hope Fremma has been taking good care of you," he breathed softly as he took another taste of her lips.

  "Yes, he has," she offered simply.

  Dar grinned, detecting her indecision and noting her wariness through her betraying muscles. "It's okay, Chelan," he assured her as he hugged her close. "It does not matter if you chose to learn about our men from Fremma. It only matters that you are comfortable with it." Dar pushed her back a bit and tilted her face to his. Her flushed skin made him smile once again. He had pinned her discomfort accurately. But her splash of embarrassment quickly faded into a look of rejection. Dar stiffened. "What's wrong?"

  "I thought you would be angry," she mumbled.

  "Angry at what? Angry that you would make love to Fremma?"

  Chelan's eyes widened as shock settled in on her soft features. "I haven't made love to him," she corrected hurriedly. "I mean, well... we have, but not..." She hesitated, shaking her head. "I mean, we've only..." She couldn't continue.

  Dar released her. Taking her gently by the hand, he led her to a bench where he sat down with her. "Look," he began, "Chelan, our people are not monogamous. It is not our way. You know that. There are special emotional bonds that do develop, and some couples prefer to remain solely with each other. But it is by no means required nor expected. You can do what you want, with whom you please, whenever you desire, as long as all consent."

  Chelan began to fidget with her hands. "I know. But to me, it's almost as if you don't care," she stated wistfully.

  "Oh, Chelan," he whispered. "You still do not understand. It is not that I do not care, and it is not that I would not love to lay with you and share our bodies. It is that I do not possess you, your body or your mind, and neither does anyone else. In our culture it is okay to seek physical pleasure elsewhere other than strictly from someone you love."

  "Is there not jealousy? You said all those things to me that time in the shower. You said how much you loved me, and yet you do not care if I sleep with Fremma?"

  "It is not that I do not care, Chelan," he emphasized. "If I were selfish, I would wish you to be only with me, to be at my beck and call, and to put all your effort into pleasing only me. But I do not have that right. You are not chattel. I cannot demand that of you, and neither can Fremma. And yes, jealousy does exist. But usually it cannot be justified."

  Dar could tell by her expression that he was getting nowhere. "Look, let's reverse the situation. You are upset because I am not going to demand that you abstain from Fremma, and to you it is a sign that I do not care. But if all you have said to me is true, and you are devoutly loyal and monogamous, then why did you participate in sexual play with Fremma?"

  Chelan looked up at him, her mouth dropping as she fought for an explanation.

  Dar held her arms tightly. "It is because you find us both attractive, and your heart tells you that you love us both. So why is it mandatory for you to make a decision between us when you can enjoy us equally?"

  "But I haven't made love to either of you," she stated defiantly.

  Dar let his head drop in frustration. "So is that it with your people? Only the explicit intimacy expressed by actual penetration is the standard by which you define fidelity?"

  Chelan turned her head away.

  "Chelan! Look at me," he demanded. "Then do you give your body and soul to one man, while feeling it is okay to engage in sex play with others as long as you don't allow them to enter you?"

  "No!" she shouted. "That's not it." Chelan thoughts tumbled as she frantically searched her soul for what it actually was. "You can't... When you decide to be with one, it is to the exclusion of all others."

  Dar smiled to himself. "So you have chosen Fremma over me, and yet moments ago you kissed me as only a lover would."

  "I..." she began, "but you said... you said that it did not matter."

  "I said it was not an issue with my people. Now I am trying to get you to explain to me why it is a logical issue with your people." Dar reached for her shoulders and held her gaze.

  Chelan shook her head weakly with exhaustion. Seeking escape, she tried to rise and leave, but Dar's grip was tenacious. "So tell me why you would engage me and then Fremma. Is it you who has lied to us about your feeling for us? Is it you who does not care about us?"

  Chelan's shoulders slumped in defeat, her thoughts and emotions in disarray. "Where I come from, there are religious and cultural issues. And it's safer to stay with one person because of disease and pregnancy. I get the differences between our attitudes, even if I haven't been able to fully embrace them. But despite understanding, it would kill me to make love to either of you, to give myself completely, and then find either of you with another woman."

  Dar felt for her, but he continued. "So it is okay for you to pursue us both as long as we remain committed to you alone, your double standard in reverse."

  Chelan shook her head feebly, chaos closing in on her. "It's just that I can't make up my mind," she whispered.

  Dar lowered his voice, his tone softening. "Chelan, with us you do not have to make a choice. Our love for you will in no way diminish if you chose to be with us both. We will not kill each other in jealous rages, and we will not play you against one another. That i
s simply not our way. We will never think anything less of you as a person if you choose to make love to us both. Even if you do not accept this, pretty lady, simply understand that it is our way."

  Dar paused for a moment, watching her collect her thoughts. He moved his hands down her arms and took her trembling hands in his. "Chelan," he whispered, "with us, where there is no fear of pregnancy, no fear of disease, and no dominance of one sex over the other, there are no taboos, no prejudices, no guilt, and no irrational demands, expectations, or rules. There are no fears of rejection or damnation based on ancient religious mysticisms, and no one judges another based on someone else's restrictive morals. The act is taken for its face value. It is an act of pure love, or an act of pure pleasure, or both, participated in by two consenting people. It is no more, and it is no less."

  Chelan eyed him skeptically. Dar grinned. "Chelan, with us, if you wanted both Fremma and me together, as long as we both agreed, it would be fine."

  Dar received his expected response as he saw her recoil. "But that's just not..." Her voice trailed off.

  Dar shook his head with amusement.

  Chelan swallowed and peered up at him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  Dar's smile intensified. "Believe me, we could take you to heights you never imagined."

  Chelan looked away nervously and then shuddered as an avalanche of unanticipated salacious images cartwheeled through her mind. She squeezed her eyes tight as if that would force the unbidden temptations from her thoughts. "No, thank you," she finally blurted timidly. "I'm having enough trouble with the way things are right now."

  Dar chuckled. "But you were thinking about it, weren't you?"

  Chelan turned bright red. "I was not!" she defended.

  "Your coloring says otherwise, but regardless, it is something you should consider."

  "You're incorrigible," she whispered.

  "Truly."

  Chelan tried to redirect the conversation. "What happens if two people decide they want children?"

  Dar straightened. "That's a totally different situation. That requires that the two people stay primarily involved with one another. If a couple decides that they want children, they undergo a ceremony that allows them to become what we call Letted to one another. That gives the man the sole rights to impregnate only that woman who is Letted to him. In that way, bloodlines can be followed and both paternity and maternity established. They raise the children together, but it is not required that they remain monogamous. Both may engage in sex with other people outside of the Let. But the woman may not become pregnant by any other man, and the man may not sire any other woman's child. And as far as engaging other people outside of the Let, the dedication and time committed to childcare rarely allows sufficient opportunities for outside relations. Besides, once such strong emotional bonds have been established, bonds strong enough to push a couple to endure the Let, most couples chose monogamy. But it is not expected or forced, nor is it law. Sexual relations outside the Let are not immoral in our eyes."

  "Could a Prime Breeder like Fremma or yourself be Letted?"

  Dar paused. "Yes and no. We could only enter what is called an "Implied Let." And with a Prime Breeder, there are a few more legal stipulations. In my case, I would be expected to continue contributing to the Breeding Guild, producing offspring for them at the same time that I produce my own family. But the children I sire for the program are awarded special privileges and advantages, along with special training and status because they are of fine genetic stock, both maternally and paternally. If I became Letted, the children that are borne by my common mate are exempt from all special privileges afforded by the Empire. Because they are my blood, they may one day become great and attain some high rank or status, but it would be through their sheer determination with no Imperial help. They would definitely not attain any special treatment simply because I sired them. If I were to Let another Prime Breeder, things would, of course, be different."

  Chelan was fascinated. "So Warlords can become Letted?"

  Dar smiled. "Yes, but rarely. Being the mate of a Galactic Warlord is far from an easy existence."

  Chelan hesitated over her next question. "Why does the computer say that Korba's genetic line is terminated?"

  Dar stiffened. He looked down at her hands, her soft, warm flesh still held within his own. He considered his answer carefully. "They are personal reasons with him, Chelan. And though I know why, I am not at liberty to tell you or anyone. If Korba should ever wish to confide in you, that is his decision alone."

  Chelan looked up at him through her thick lashes. "I'm sorry I've been so difficult to deal with," she said softly.

  "There is nothing to be sorry about, Chelan. Neither of us should expect the other to change their views or opinions overnight. And I respect your decisions, and I understand your dilemmas. But just remember one very important thing. Our ways can work for you, or against you. The choice is yours, and it is determined by how much you let your world's values dictate your actions and emotions. If you truly understand that you can love both Fremma and me, and someday be comfortable with making love to us, then it works for you. But if at the same time, our experiences with other women cause you to become consumed with jealousy and rage, then it works against you. I realize that the disparity in the amount of adaptation you have to make between the two situations is vast, but it is something you must grasp, and, in your own time, come to deal with. And the length of time that it takes you to adapt will determine how soon you become comfortable with our ways. You live in our world now, and you are immersed in our ways. Your world is no more, Chelan. Your values do not apply to us. If you choose to hold them dear to yourself, then you walk alone."

  Chelan sat quietly. She knew he was right, and she wanted desperately to fit in with his ways. But she also knew that she could not simply erase a lifetime of socialization in a single moment. She was still of Earth, and they were still alien.

  Suddenly, her mind snapped back to Korba, and her heart skipped a beat. He was different. She had felt it. He was one of them, but his refusal of the Breeding Guild somehow only confirmed what her heart already knew. He was more like her. But then Chelan shook her head, reminding herself that he was gone. He had left her emotionally, and now he was gone physically, and that was simply that. Deep in her soul, no matter what others said, she still felt she had driven him away, and her loss of him plagued her mercilessly.

  Dar reached for her chin and turned her face to his. "Well now, after I've taken you straight to hell and back, am I still on your list, at least as a friend?"

  Chelan looked deep into his azure eyes. A lump began to form in her throat at the idea that he could think she would ever consider him as anything less. "You're still on my list as a friend, and as a lover," she whispered.

  Dar's face became serious, and he felt a sudden flush of warmth course through his body. His loins ached for her, but even deeper was the ache within his heart. He loved her so much. He leaned forward and took her mouth with his.

  Chelan closed her eyes and slipped her hands beneath his shroud. Overwhelmed by her desire for his ready and willing body, she cleared her mind quickly of her predicament. She was already reaping the benefits of his foreign ways. She pushed aside what inhibitions she could, praying that what he said was true and that Fremma would not spurn her. She did not want to lose either man, for at the moment her brief encounters with them were her sole source of comfort and companionship in a totally hostile and alien environment.

  Dar lifted her and settled her in front of him, her legs straddling his lap. His gloved fingers traced the contours of her face as he looked lovingly into her eyes. "No running," he whispered.

  Chelan blushed. "And?"

  Dar smiled. "And no touching what I desire most."

  Chelan nodded to him and then took his hand in hers as she began to remove his glove. She knew that whatever restrictive mores she still clung to were weakening, and weakening fast. But her heart still held a stub
born flame for the man who first cared for her so lovingly in his domain. When the time came to confront and cast the demon from her past aside, she wanted to do that in Korba's arms. She understood that her ultimate allegiance to the black-haired Warlord was illogical in Iceanean culture, but her adherence to this small tendril of Earthly devotion comforted her somehow, and she was not ready to sever that tie just yet.

  But she was ready to do her all for Dar. She immersed herself in him, his body, his scent, and his desire. She wanted badly to please him as she had learned to do so well with Fremma. The warrior had indeed taken good care of her, and now she would share some of her appreciation with Dar.

  She let his gloves fall to the floor and watched as he shed his shroud. Then she reached for the neck of his military jacket and ran her nails down the front, releasing his upper body to her. He shrugged out of the garb and then cupped her face, kissing her long and hard, savoring all her sweetness.

  Chelan's long nails played over his chest, raking his flesh until he moaned with pleasure. Then she drew away from him and slipped off his lap to the floor before him. Dar's eyes followed her as a predator's would its prey.

  She reached for his pants, and smiled coyly up at him as she began to release him. "Stay soft," she whispered.

  Her gentle request nearly caused him to explode from within. He was instantly turned into a powder keg rigged with hair-trigger fuses. He knew that Chelan would eventually adjust to their ways, even if she never fully accepted them. But what he had not expected was just how well she had learned their ways, and just how well Fremma had taught her.

  He watched breathlessly as she leaned into him and kissed his chest, leaving a trail of kisses as she licked her way down his torso, her fingers feathering over his inner thighs. He wanted to shed his pants completely, but he was far too spellbound to move. Finally, her hands met her tongue at his maleness, and every nerve in his body electrified. He grabbed on to the edge of the bench in an effort to contain himself. He wanted to seize her, to throw her beneath him and to thrust himself deep in her, filling her completely. But instead, he was still as stone, stunned by the goddess between his powerful thighs and by what she was about to do to him.