by Shae Mills
Fremma broke. He grabbed her by the arms roughly and shook her. "I don't fuck other women!" he shouted. "I make love to them, and I want to make love to you, completely!"
Chelan wrenched against him unsuccessfully, and then sagged forward to the floor before him. Fremma exhaled sharply. He hunched forward, resting his head on her quaking back, her pain mingling with his own. "Oh, please, Chelan, come back to me. Please don't push me away."
Chelan could only hug herself in misery.
"Fremma!" came Dar's stern voice, shattering the night air.
Fremma jumped, bolting to his feet and whirling to face the Warlord.
Dar hesitated, struck by the deranged look in the man's eyes. He watched Fremma's chest heave, and he waited for the warrior's defensive stance to dissipate. Then he reached for him, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "You had better leave, my friend. She needs time to recover. She's not one of us."
Fremma took several ragged breaths. He clenched his hands spasmodically as he struggled to control the myriad of confusing and painful emotions assaulting him. He tipped his head back as he tried to sort through his decimated feelings. Finally he looked at Dar, his eyes ablaze. "I can adapt to her ways, but she can't adapt to ours." His voice was a strained whisper. He hesitated, catching his breath. "I have made a grave mistake, my friend, and I have lost her." Fremma's eyes cut into Dar, and the Warlord became very still. "If you are serious about her and love her anywhere near the way I have, then I warn you, Sire, do not make the same mistake."
Dar removed his hand from Fremma's shoulder as the warrior straightened himself. Fremma took one last deep breath and strode off into the night's dismal blackness, not daring to look back at the crumpled figure on the floor.
Dar stood quietly, staring down at Chelan. He had encountered Lena in the corridor, and it was not hard to figure out what had happened.
Dar finally knelt down. He smoothed his hand over her trembling back. He remained silent, for he knew that no words could help her now. Tenderly, he reached under her fallen shoulders and drew her limp body into him.
Chelan looked up to him. She ran her hands up to his neck and hugged into his chest. She could not speak. Her voice was gone. She closed her eyes to his embrace, knowing that for now at least, she was safe from further pain. Allowing her extreme fatigue to overtake her, she quickly fell asleep in Dar's loving arms.
* * *
Chelan awoke slowly, straining to open her puffy eyes. She looked at the robin's-egg-blue wall before her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She reached out from under the warmth of the blankets and touched the cool surface. She felt a veil of familiarity emanating from the vivid splash of color, and she closed her eyes.
She took several deep, shaky breaths and clamped her jaw firmly against the intrusion of unwelcome images. She saw Fremma's bronze body, taut with lust as he penetrated the Iceanean woman's muscular frame. Chelan recoiled against the onslaught of fresh wounds, and she defensively drew her knees up to her chest.
"Chelan," came Dar's deep voice.
Startled, Chelan sprang upright. Dar's arms flew around her. "Hey, take it easy. It's just me."
Chelan took a moment to contain herself. It was then that she realized he had spent the long night with her. She lunged at him and hugged him feverishly.
Dar stroked her head and hair as he drew her back down to the bed with him. Her skin prickled to the chill of the cool air on her naked flesh, and he drew a sheet over them. Dar held her tightly, loving the feel of her body next to him. His only wish was that he could hold her now out of mutual happiness rather than somber resignation.
She lay very still, comforted by his touch as his hand coursed over the length of her back. He smoothed his palm over her hip to her buttocks, pressing her firmly into the warmth of his male softness. Chelan exhaled sharply, burying her sorrow within the entirety of his virile body. She never wanted to leave him. She needed his love and his security desperately. He was her last tangible link to sanity in this cold and alien world, and she felt that she would simply fold up and die without him.
Then she looked out at the morning glow of the room and thought of the time. "Aren't you supposed to be on the Bridge?" she breathed anxiously.
"Uh-huh," he replied quietly, pressing her even closer to him. "One of my First Officers has taken over for me. I didn't want you to be alone."
Chelan cringed, suddenly feeling guilty. "I will be okay. You should go back to your command."
"Everything is fine, Chelan. If it was imperative that I be on the Bridge, I would be."
Chelan closed her eyes as she kissed the smooth, tawny skin of his chest. "Thank you," she whispered. "But I don't want you to get into any trouble."
Dar raised her face up to his. His smile was broad, and his face was alight. "Chelan, who is going to reprimand me?" He paused, grinning at her, amused over her concern about him. "Out here, there is no one who can order me, my pretty lady. I only give orders. I do not receive them, except from the Emperor himself."
Chelan pinked. She nestled back into his chest, feeling better for the first time in a long time.
Dar held her snugly as his hand gently kneaded her back. Then he spoke, his voice low and firm. "Chelan, I want to talk to you about Fremma." Dar felt her muscles tighten, but he continued. "You remember what I talked to you about earlier, don't you, about how our values can work for you or against you?" He hesitated, waiting for a response.
"Yes," she whispered.
Dar took a deep breath. "You're letting them work against you, aren't you?" he asked, not expecting a reply. She was very still. "Fremma did nothing wrong, Chelan."
Chelan squeezed her eyes shut.
Dar gave her a moment to think before he began again. "Last night I witnessed the momentary emotional destruction of one of the Empire's strongest and most valued men. And that torment was caused by his perceived loss of you, brought forth by nothing more than his innocent actions." Dar felt her muscles twitch. He lowered his voice. "I hope that someday you can see through your pain and rage and see fit to forgive him for violating your values, Chelan."
Chelan's throat constricted. "I've listened to you, and I've tried to understand. I've thought about you and him being with others, and I've tried to deal with it..." She hesitated, her voice breaking. "But I..." Her eyes pleaded with him as she drew her trembling fingers to her lips. "But I never expected, or ever wanted, to see him with another," she whispered.
Dar felt for her, and he realized that it was indeed a harsh initiation into their ways. He coiled around her, hugging her protectively.
Chelan took a shaky breath. "I watched him take from her what I have never been able to give to him."
"Chelan!" said Dar firmly as he rolled her to her back. "Don't ever look at it that way! He didn't make love with Lena because you never allowed him to enter you. Don't ever think like that." Dar let his head sag. "Chelan, no man on this ship engages a woman out of spite or revenge. It is never done with our people."
"But if I had let him—"
"Chelan! It wouldn't have mattered."
She felt defeated, yet she knew Dar was right. "Will I ever walk in on you some day?"
Dar could smell her fear, her distress piercing his heart. He released her arms and slipped his hands under her shoulders. Letting part of his weight down onto her, he kissed her neck. "No, you won't, Chelan. I promise." He hesitated, looking into her grieving eyes. "But remember, it is not because I will never be with another woman. It is because that on this mission, too much is demanded of my time." He reached for her beautiful face, his heart swelling. "And I will be careful, my Lady."
Chelan swallowed and nodded her understanding. "It's just that I could never handle seeing that again so soon," she whispered.
Dar kissed her lips gently. "Oh, Chelan, we must seem so cruel to you."
Chelan did not know what to say, but she knew what she wanted. She stretched up to him and tasted his lips as her hand reached down for his mal
eness.
Dar moaned, and he lowered his head to her chest. She continued to fondle him as he took her breast in his mouth, savoring her supple flesh.
Chelan looked up to the ceiling. She pushed Fremma's image into the dark abyss of her torn soul and replaced him with her ardent desire for Dar. She grabbed his hair and pulled him from her, gazing into his crystal azure eyes. "I want to go down on you," she whispered.
Dar paused momentarily before rolling to his back, offering himself for the taking. He watched her as she took him, her lips and sensual mouth devouring all of him. She manipulated him expertly, and he closed his eyes and gave himself to her. Dar groaned as she took him in deeply, again and again, her oral caress pitching him into another time and dimension.
He knew that she was partially using him to forget Fremma, and though it was not his way, he would be Fremma's proxy. For this time, at least, they would both give and take what they needed, for he, too, felt Fremma's pain.
The Warlord shuddered. He now realized that his heart had been stolen completely by the bewitching alien, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. She was everything he had never imagined could exist. She was the antithesis of everything he embodied, the perfect complement to everything he stood for. She was the missing piece that made him whole, the angel that made his heart sing.
He moaned and arched his back as Chelan stroked him to ecstasy. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He looked up to the ceiling as Fremma's cool words burned into his mind, and suddenly Dar knew that he would not make the same mistake regardless of time demands. There would be no other women, for he had other plans. Deep, far-reaching plans.
Dar writhed in the throes of a powerful orgasm, every muscle in his body clenching. He cried out her name and reached down, drawing his alien beauty up his body. He hugged her tightly to his heaving chest and then kissed her forehead tenderly. His hands coursed over her velvet, white skin as he lavished himself with her feminine wiles. He reveled in her scent and immersed himself in her innocence and her purity. It was then that he knew: there could be no other woman.
Chapter 36
The next couple weeks went slowly for Chelan. To keep her mind off Fremma she cast herself almost totally into physical workouts. She continued throwing regularly and was now supplementing her weight training with aerobics. Dar had been by to see her a few times, but he was heavily burdened with work and Chelan did not attempt to distract him. She had not seen Fremma again since that painful night, and though she missed him with all her heart, she knew his absence was for the best.
Dar had allowed her to use the small private room off the workout area for her own, and she did not mind occupying it despite the fact that she knew it was Korba's. But with the exclusion of Fremma from her world, thoughts of the ebony-haired Warlord once again seeped into her mind ubiquitously. Frequently, she wondered how he was and hoped with all her heart that he was well. She wanted to know how the Rigilean mission was progressing, but she kept her questions to herself, unwilling to burden Dar with all her concerns and fears.
She had worked out long and hard today, and now she soothed her sleek, hard body in the shower. She was extremely tired and looked forward to a peaceful night's sleep in her little blue nest. She stepped from the water and slid into her white gown. The garment's lines were made even more breathtaking by her ever-developing muscle definition. Yet she still maintained a delicate look, her beauty accentuated by her smooth, soft skin and her full curves. Chelan's hair was down to her buttocks now, and though she thought periodically of cutting it for convenience, she had to admit even to her own critical eye that the thick mass of flowing, golden-brown silk was gorgeous. It complimented her tall, slender frame, moving with her with a feline sinuosity that mesmerized the eye. It would remain unscathed.
Chelan walked out into the workout area but was deflected from her destination by the sound of voices from the Command Center. She smiled as she tuned in on Dar's voice, but hesitated when she heard Fremma's. Chelan felt a lump form in her throat as she padded toward the Center. Staying in the shadows and remaining silent, she listened to their words while watching.
Both men stood very still, their eyes intent upon the main screen. Coded messages continually scrolled past, each piece of information being carefully scrutinized and processed by the two human war machines. Chelan held her breath, every fiber in her body sensing the tension in the air.
"Come on... come on," mumbled Dar under his breath as the data flew over the screen.
"There it is," indicated Fremma, pointing. "That's the last of the information from Sector 10. So far, no further reports seem to be forthcoming."
Dar nodded as he continued to study the data. Chelan had felt a wave of anguish wash over her when she had first laid eyes on Fremma. But as she watched the intensity of the emotion shown by the two men before her, her own feelings regarding the warrior were temporarily lost. Suddenly, she jumped.
"Damn!" shouted Dar explosively. "They were wrong. The main colony in that area was underground, much deeper than they had anticipated." He hesitated, watching another screen warily. "How many did we lose according to the preliminary reports?"
Fremma called up additional statistics. "Well over one hundred fighters." Fremma continued to work and then stopped. He took a deep breath and then looked up at the main screen. "But it is not so much the number, Sire. They were mostly Gainy's men, most of them our best."
Dar slammed his fist down on the console, his outburst startling Chelan once again. Then the Warlord became very still, his head slumped between his shoulders. "And there was no way they could have known," he commented quietly to himself.
Fremma looked back up to the main screen, his eyes widening. "What the hell is he doing?"
Dar straightened. He watched the data flash by for a moment and then fell back heavily into his chair. He rubbed his furrowed brow, his weary features betraying his fatigue.
Fremma stepped back and faced Dar directly, shock plainly written on the warrior's face. "He's recalling Gainy's men. He's creating a suicidal situation for whoever goes back in there."
Dar nodded. "I know him. He'll blame himself even though no one could have foreseen that." Dar looked up at Fremma. "He's saving Gainy's remaining men."
"But that will give the breeders time to regroup, and there are no other available forces in that area to take over right now."
Dar smiled wryly. "No, there aren't. So he'll go in and do it himself."
Fremma looked back up to the screen. "With the near total blackout, I don't know how many fighters he still has directly within his contingency, but I do know that they are strained to the limit with battle fatigue. Going back into that hellhole without backup is pure suicide. That's one of the planet's most heavily fortified colonies. That's why Gainy took it in the first place."
Dar did not respond. The outlook was bleak at best, and he was powerless. It was too late to divert the battleships. The time was too short.
Chelan suddenly felt a cold chill overtake her body. She knew the man they referred to was Korba, and she felt her heart sink. It was then that she finally acknowledged just how much she still loved the man. But more than that, she realized just how much her adaptations to the adversities on the ship were due to her hopes that he would return to her. Her eyes began to sting. She raised her hands to her lips, preventing sounds of distress from emerging.
"There's nothing we can do at the moment," commented Dar quietly. "I'll send a message to Ticees telling him of the situation. We can't afford any more men from these ships, as Korba has already depleted them to the maximum. And unfortunately, there are indications that the worst is yet to come. While you were out this morning, reports were leaking in about a massive colony, the largest yet. But so far, it has not been located. Ticees may want us to hold here and wait for Toran's arrival."
Fremma looked to the ground. "But that won't help Korba now."
Dar stood and looked up to the ceiling, his hands on his
hips. He took a deep breath. "No, it won't," he answered solemnly. "Nothing will." He looked at Fremma. "But then Korba knew beforehand what he might encounter. The only problem was that the realization came too late for us to acquire sufficient manpower from other ships. We did all we could by draining these two vessels. But obviously, it looks like that move was not enough." Dar placed a tired hand on Fremma's shoulder. "Come on. I have to get back to the Bridge." The blonde Warlord started up the stairs. "I've sent all the information to the remaining officers on both ships. I've also sent a communiqué to Solis and told him to meet us here. We'll decide then if there is time, or reason, to send a small relief crew or if it would just be sending more men to their deaths."
Chelan moved over and watched them disappear through the doors. Slowly and heavily, she turned back toward her room, her heart riddled with fear for Korba. She wanted to say so much to him. She wanted to apologize to him for her words and her actions. She wanted to thank him for having spared her life, and most of all, she wanted the chance to love him in hopes that he would love her in return.
Chelan entered the small private room and looked around it carefully for the first time. It was similar to Dar's, but just knowing it was Korba's caused her to melt from within. Sliding out of her gown, she tucked herself into the soft bed, an uneasy calm surrounding her as she thought of being in Korba's domain. She swallowed back her tears. She had to try to capture a few hours of sleep. But it would be far from a restful night, for she knew deep down that she was about to lose yet another love, only the loss of this love would be ultimate, and forever. Melancholy swept over her in a weighted veil, one she could never hope to shed.