by Shae Mills
Fremma's muscles were coiled tight. He retrieved a lazgun from under the bed, his eyes never leaving the main doors. With deadly stealth, he oozed back onto the bed. He pulled the sheet up to his waist, concealing the gun beneath it.
Chelan peered at him, holding her breath. He touched a bedside switch, allowing the entrance doors to part.
Chelan looked down and watched as Solis entered the room. He was unshrouded and carried no visible weaponry. The officer's hands were held out to his side, both as a show of submissiveness and to indicate to Fremma that he was unarmed. He stood momentarily, watching Fremma warily. Then, he began his cautious approach. When near the foot of the bed, he tore his eyes from Fremma, and looked to Chelan.
She hugged the blankets to her throat defensively. Solis spoke quietly. "Dar explained to me about your presence, my Lady." His eyes darted to Fremma uneasily, knowing full well that there would be a weapon beneath the sheet. He looked back to Chelan. "I don't know if my words could ever truly express my sorrow at what has happened to you at my hands."
Solis hesitated, again looking into Fremma's cold eyes. Slowly, he lowered his hands to his side. "If there is anything I can do for you, my Lady, you have simply to ask... anything at all."
Chelan spoke quietly. "It's okay, Solis. I hold nothing against you." She managed a small smile and felt Fremma take a deep breath. "You did what you felt was right, what any person in your position would have done." Chelan swallowed and winced.
Fremma glanced at her with concern, but quickly returned his attention to Solis. Solis edged to the side of the bed. Chelan caught sight of Fremma's hand slipping beneath the sheet. She grimaced as she reached for his leg and touched him in a gesture of reassurance.
Solis studied Fremma's arm muscles carefully as the wary Commander knelt down by Chelan. He again raised his hands, keenly mindful of keeping them in Fremma's sight. "Regardless, my Lady, I used excessive force on you. You are a fraction of my size, and I was unduly rough."
Chelan simply looked up at him, staring into an obviously young face. His features were surrounded by the beautiful, long, blue-black hair, and accented by his glowing azure eyes. "It is all okay, Solis," she whispered. "Please believe me."
He managed a small, fleeting smile, then his handsome features once again became unreadable. He hesitated, his eyes first flashing to Fremma's and then back to Chelan. "May I..." he wavered, "may I look at your injuries, my Lady?"
Chelan felt Fremma stiffen again, and her fingers pressed into him, halting his motions. She simply nodded. Solis reached for the blankets, moving them down slightly and exposing her wounds. Her shoulder showed the red line where his blade had penetrated. The area was surrounded by severe bruising and an angry red puffiness.
He flinched as his eyes coursed over her slender throat. The single line there was etched across the width of her neck in brilliant contrast to her powder-soft skin. For a moment he was appalled at himself for the brutality he had levied upon her. His eyes then beheld her fine bone structure and her delicate frame. Though trained for decades to defend a Warlord's domain above all else, a tragic mistake had been made. Solis replaced the blankets and hung his head momentarily.
Chelan felt for him and wondered what Dar had said to him. She knew full well that the Warlord would not have been easy on him. She released her left hand from the blankets and smoothed her fingers over his face in a gesture of forgiveness. Solis sucked in an unexpected breath at her touch, and he looked deep into her dark eyes.
"You owe me nothing, Solis," she whispered.
His eyes remained captivated by hers. Every fiber in his body understood now why Korba had taken her in, and understood fully why she had captured the hearts of Dar and Fremma. She possessed an alien charisma and purity that immediately bewitched all those she touched. Her unfamiliar innocence and gentleness tugged at the taut cords that bound his war-hardened heart and strummed it into a submissiveness that left him mortally weak.
Remaining speechless as he rose, he gazed at her a moment longer. Then, shaking himself from her spell, he straightened and looked to Fremma. "Dar said that he would go over the Rigilean conflict with me, and that he would prefer you remained here with Chelan."
Fremma simply nodded to him. Solis looked back down at Chelan. "Be well, my Lady." And he turned and left the room.
Chelan looked to Fremma as he took a deep breath and allowed his muscles to relax. He glanced at her briefly before placing the gun on the bedside table.
Chelan rolled sluggishly to her side and closed her eyes. She felt Fremma slide back beneath the sheet, and her mind suddenly switched to her upheaval with him. By accident, she now lay in the very bed she swore she would never occupy again.
He lay down beside her, but for the moment dared not touch her. He watched her back moving rhythmically to her breathing. Finally, unable to contain his emotions any longer, he reached out and touched her hair lightly. "Chelan, I'm sorry about Lena."
Chelan flinched. "There is nothing to be sorry about," she whispered.
Fremma paused, "I have been with no others since. I—"
She cut him off. "It's okay, Fremma. It is your people's way."
"Chelan, there will be no other women."
"No!" she interjected curtly, wincing at the pain in her ribs. "No. I have no right to impose such sanctions on you, Fremma."
"You are not imposing anything on me, Chelan. It is what I want." He hesitated. "I don't want to be with anyone else," he whispered. "I only want to be with you. I want to take care of you, and you alone."
Chelan struggled to remain aloof from him, her heart only recently having begun to heal. She had no wish to open new wounds. She took a shaky breath, attempting to cast her feelings for the warrior into a dark corner. "I sleep with Dar now," she uttered, closing her eyes against the onslaught of pain that instantly engulfed her.
Fremma was silent momentarily, feeling the sting of her intent. "That does not matter, Chelan," he mumbled.
He watched her momentarily, but she did not respond to him. Fremma was beside himself, distraught over her wounds first, and now over her rejection. He sat up slowly so as not to disturb her. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and lowered his head into his hands. The whole day's events suddenly crashed in on him, draining him of all his remaining reserves.
Chelan lay still, her eyes stinging. Though she was trying desperately to remain detached, she realized that she could no longer deny her feelings for the gentle warrior. She loved him, and she was swept up by the sacrifice he was willing to make for her. She carefully returned to her back, surprised to see him sitting, his muscular back hunched away from her. "Fremma," she called softly.
She saw his muscles twitch at the sound of her voice. Chelan ignored her physical pain as she sat up. Clutching her right arm to her side, she rose to her knees and shuffled to him, pressing her body into his. She surrounded him with her thighs and rested her head on his back, feeling him begin to breathe again. "Fremma, I love you," she murmured.
Fremma exhaled sharply, a deep outpouring of anguish escaping from his burdened chest. His arms moved behind him to her thighs, his fingers clinging to her desperately.
Chelan squeezed her eyes tight and kissed his trembling back, her lips lingering lovingly. When she felt him calm beneath her, she straightened from him, allowing him to turn to her. She looked into his handsome face, his eyes pleading with hers. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth. Then she drew him forward, hugging his head to her breasts with her one good arm. "I love you, Fremma," she repeated softly. "I don't ever want to hurt you again."
Fremma ran his hands up her legs and over her firm buttocks. Then he sank before her in reverence, resting his head on her thighs. He kissed her skin, savoring her softness and her sweetness. He felt her hand stroke his hair, and he offered himself to her, mind, body, and soul.
"And I will never hurt you again," he promised, his voice hushed. His hands smoothed over her hips, and h
e held her firmly as he paid homage to her, kissing her delicately just above her womanhood. Then he nestled into the warmth of her lap, the burden of her earlier rejection dissipating. "And you will never lose me," he added tenderly. "Ever."
Chapter 37
Fremma stayed with Chelan for the rest of the night and for part of the next day, lovingly attending to her before returning to his work. Chelan spent the better part of the next several days in his quarters resting and reading at the computer.
Since her visit to the hangar, Dar had allowed her access to a complete list of all the Empire's most technologically advanced fighters and transports. It was a highly confidential and classified file, but Dar knew it would go no further than Chelan herself, and so he had arranged it. It kept her entertained and mesmerized for hours, as her appetite for their incredible technology was insatiable.
Her only other activity was with Yanis, who visited her regularly and worked her through physiotherapy to get her shoulder back into shape. Chelan enjoyed the young warrior and could see why he was one of Fremma's most valuable men. He possessed a warm sense of humor and was unshakably attentive to her physical needs during her recovery. He also seemed to enjoy the time off from his regular duties and was more than ecstatic about languishing around the diplomatic suite while Chelan talked his ear off.
He also supplied her with yet another diversionary tactic that entertained her endlessly. He tapped into one of the main training computers and called up what only could be described as a futuristic star wars game. It was actually a training file used to induct warriors into military life, and it tested their reasoning ability and matched their wits to the likes of Dar and Korba.
Actual battle scenarios previously encountered by the Empire's warriors were replayed, and each recruit was to analyze the situation, organize and plan the assault, and then implement their own strategy. Small details could be manipulated either by a second person playing the same game or by the computer itself, which could change the entire scenario, forcing the first player to withdraw, regroup, and re-execute. It was a sophisticated challenge of wits and intelligence, one in which the eventual outcome would permit only one winner and the total annihilation of the loser, the inevitable outcome of any real battle waged by the Empire.
As expected, it was even more of a challenge for Chelan, for she was forced to learn simultaneously about the technology and the weapons available to her, and which were appropriate to what conditions and situations. She was also introduced to what Yanis affectionately called "Imperial Etiquette." Chelan soon learned that the peoples on which the havoc was about to be waged were often given a small advance warning by the Empire. Yanis said it served two purposes. To begin with, it gave them a final few moments to reconsider their position, and failing that, it gave them time to ruminate over just what was about to befall them.
In the long run, the warnings made little difference to the warriors, for the Empire's forces were so formidable that few could stand up to them regardless of how much advanced notification they were given. The time delay simply meant a few more hours of work for the military forces to complete their thorough cleanups.
It had been well over an Iceanean week since Chelan's encounter with Solis, and she was finally getting some self-confidence back. She had already showered and slipped into the new gown Dar had given her. She stood in front of the mirror and looked closely at her wounds, wondering how long it would take for the bruising to vanish and the scars to fade. Chelan stepped right up to her reflection and ran a finger along her throat, feeling the soft scar tissue and appreciating just what a delicate job Stose had done. Then she stepped back and looked with chagrin at her multicolored shoulder, the discoloration accented by the shimmering whiteness of her gown. The angry bruising was now replaced with tones of yellow and green that flowed down her arm almost to her elbow. Slowly, she reached for a large section of her long hair and drew it forward, letting it cascade over the front of her arm. Then she smiled, content with the meager concealment that it provided.
"It will fade," came the warm, deep voice from behind her.
Chelan swung around and looked up into Yanis's smiling face. "Yes, I guess it will," she admitted. Then she quickly looked away, feeling a little silly about trying to cover the bruising.
"How does it feel today?" he asked as he approached her.
"Still the same. Very stiff right now, as I haven't done anything with it yet. I wish I had your people's healing ability."
"Well, we've been put through centuries of breeding to maximize our capabilities. It's a very important characteristic to have when one is habitually engaged on the battlefield. Now, let's see how you are doing." He took her arm and began slowly leading it through a series of restricted motions. His eyes never left her face as he searched for signs of distress. His fingers pressed tenderly into her damaged flesh, telling him all that he needed to know.
Chelan finally winced and then bit her lip as he began to raise her arm up. "Okay," she breathed. "That's enough."
Yanis nodded and let her arm down. "Well, any chance of infection has long since passed, and all the scans Stose did yesterday looked very good. So a lot of what you are feeling is the bruising of the bone and any surrounding swelling. The rest is roughness characteristic of the new scar tissue. It will be a while before that has smoothed and stretched out. We will have to keep on top of it, though. We don't want any adhesions forming, especially around the damaged tendons. I'll give you another treatment for that now. And how are the ribs?"
Chelan inhaled cautiously. "They seem to be better. Deep breaths no longer hurt." She smiled wryly. "But all considered, I don't think I'll ever be able to throw again." She stepped past him and walked out into the bedroom.
Yanis followed. "Speaking of throwing, you should begin working out again, keeping the training light. And once you start, you should not leave more than two of your Earth days between your sessions."
"Yes, I know. It's just that I'm having trouble getting up the nerve to walk back into the Command Center. I keep thinking that I will run into Solis again, and this time he won't miss his intended target."
Yanis walked over to a counter. "Somehow, I have the feeling that running into any trouble with Solis is pretty remote right about now. After Dar and Fremma finished with him, he'll no doubt be walking on eggshells every time he comes here. In fact," continued Yanis, turning to her with a small cylinder-shaped instrument in his hand, "I would imagine that if you wanted to run him through with one of your throwing blades you'd be more than successful. I suspect that for a long time to come, he will freeze at the sight of all long-haired beauties clad in white."
Chelan smiled, blushing demurely. She stood still at his approach, pulling the strap of the gown off her shoulder. She held her hair back as he began smoothing the device over her wounds. He had explained to her how it worked, similar to an ultrasound, she decided, but much more complicated. It was used primarily to keep adhesions from forming on deep tissues, especially tendons. It also forced increased blood flow through muscles while simultaneously infusing all soft tissues with a metamaterial that sped healing. Chelan surmised it was analogous to the nanotechnology being developed back on Earth for medical applications, but how it actually worked she did not care. Its effects were simply divine.
Chelan closed her eyes. Immediately, she relaxed completely in response to the warmth and relief Yanis was bringing to her achy muscles. Then her mind wandered. He was right about getting back to exercising, she thought. And after he finished, she would return to the Command Center and face her anxiety.
Yanis finished and placed the device on the table. "Do you want me to accompany you?" he offered quietly.
Chelan's eyes darted to his. "How do you people do that all the time?"
"Do what?"
"Do what?" she repeated. "Read my mind! Everyone on this ship knows what I'm thinking before I do."
Yanis chuckled as he watched her fluster. "We don't read your mind, Chelan. We
read your body."
Chelan frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, earlier you said that you did not know if you could face going back into the Command Center, a legitimate concern considering your ordeal. When I began working on your shoulder, I could feel you relax. And then shortly afterward, I felt you tense again. I simply made the assumption that you were thinking of the Command Center."
Chelan sighed. "Am I that transparent?"
Yanis smiled as he sat down in front of her. "You've never been trained, and anyone who has can read your body easily. We've all been trained. How do you think we read and identify each other under these shrouds?"
Chelan scanned his body, draped in the voluminous black material, and she nodded. "I've often wondered about that," she said quietly. Then a smile traversed her lips. "Can you teach me?" she asked excitedly.
"Teach you what?"
"Teach me how to control... Teach me whatever it takes to stay in control of myself. I want to be opaque."
Yanis's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I don't know if that's such a good idea, Chelan. I think that's one of your most attractive qualities, your innocent openness and honesty, your thoughts and emotions portrayed so easily."
"But that's not fair," she protested. "That puts me at a disadvantage with your people, the conversation becoming one-sided."
Yanis pondered her words. "I don't think Dar or Fremma have ever been dishonest with you."
"No," she clarified quickly. "I don't think they have either. But sometimes..." Her voice trailed off.
"Sometimes what?"
"Well, on Earth, there's so much deceit, so many words spoken falsely and so many meanings distorted. People deliberately tell you one thing, and they actually mean the opposite. It can make relationships very difficult."
"So what you actually want is to be taught how to decipher us rather than learning how to shield yourself?"
Chelan thought about that for a moment. "I guess it's a bit of both," she concluded. "I don't want to be so vulnerable to you, and in turn, I wish to be able to read you better, to decode the unspoken. I want to be able to interpret intentions before words are ever uttered. I know that the ability will aid me in my relations with your people. Please teach me."