by Shae Mills
"Yes, my Lord," came the feminine voice.
"Marri, could you be in my quarters in four hours?"
"Yes, my Lord. Should I bring my report—"
"No," he said, interrupting her as he clutched his breast. He looked down and watched as the blood coated his hand and forearm. "No," he repeated softly. "No work, Marri."
Marri was silent.
"Get cleaned up, and get some rest. Meet me here in four hours."
"As you wish," she replied, her voice betraying her confusion.
Korba turned the intercom off and slumped into his chair. It was time to forget Sabina, and it was time to forget Chelan. It was time to find a mate, and Marri was more than willing and worthy.
Korba swallowed hard, his heart rebelling at his decision, but his mind was set. It was time to begin his exodus from pain and emptiness, and that exodus would begin now.
Chapter 39
Chelan didn't know how much time had passed, and she didn't care. She remained huddled on the bed, every possible tear spent. Her depression was deep and immovable.
Fremma stepped through the doors and instantly ran to her crumpled body. He pulled her into him, and she clutched him tightly. "Oh, Chelan," he breathed as he stroked her head and hair.
"He's so cold," she whispered numbly.
Fremma closed his eyes. "No," he said quietly. "He's fatigued, Chelan. He's been fighting hand-to-hand combat for months in the toughest battle of his career. He's been up against some of the most well-trained warriors in the galaxy, and they killed thousands of his men while doing their utmost to kill him. He's exhausted, he's battle weary, and much will be weighing heavily on his mind."
Fremma pulled her away and looked into her heavy eyes. "Chelan, I saw the love for you within his dull eyes. He adores you. He just needs time to acclimate and to recover. We are soldiers first and foremost, trained and conditioned from conception for the battle. But that does not mean that we are not affected by it. When you are immersed in a different reality, the reality of the battlefield and all its desperate brutality, returning to this reality takes an amount of adjusting. The transition is rarely smooth, even for the best of the best, and especially right away. There is a decompression period, a period in which one has to accommodate all that has happened, to put it into perspective, to compensate, and then reintegrate."
Chelan nodded her understanding. "But how do I know that he still cares? It's been so long."
Fremma drew her back to him. "Let him rest, Chelan. Then go see him. Korba will not take long to recover. He seems cold now because every fiber in his body, every neuron in his brain, is poised for the kill. For him to switch instantly to his feelings for you, to cast aside all that has happened over the past months, is too much of an abrupt transition. Give him time to collect himself and then tell him exactly how you feel. I guarantee he will not be cold to you."
Chelan clung to Fremma. "With our people, some returning from war never recover. They are left emotionally wounded for life, the trauma so deep. We call it PTSD, and some of those affected most profoundly never readapt to civilian life."
Fremma pondered her words. "It's different with us. Very few of us ever have much to do with civilian life. But we are not robots. We have feelings and morals of conduct. We have loves and passions other than for the battle. When those two worlds collide, there is fallout. Each of us takes a certain length of time to integrate to each separate world. Korba's immersion in this battle has been extreme by any standards, but he will come back to us quickly. You'll see."
"It was going to be such a beautiful night," she whispered.
"It still can be," he replied, kissing her head.
"We were going to make love."
"Oh, Chelan," he began. "You remember the stakes of the game, and you won. The only thing different about tonight is that instead of making love to Dar or me, you will make love to the man who holds your heart."
"But what of you?" she beseeched.
"I still have you. And someday, if you accept our ways, then I, too, can be with you. I meant it when I said that I would never leave you, and I never will, no matter what happens with Korba."
"I feel as though I've cheated you."
"No," he said firmly. "You have never cheated or deceived me, Chelan. Your decisions and actions have been true to us both." He tipped her face up to his. "And I could last a lifetime on the love we have shared these months, Chelan. No matter what happens in the future, I will treasure all that you have given me, for you have given me everything."
Chelan hugged him tighter. They embraced for a long time before Fremma spoke again. "Come on. Let's take some time to relax and get you cleaned up."
"What are you going to do?" she asked as she watched him stand.
"After you have had a shower and those red eyes have faded, I will let you in through Korba's personal security doors. They are still programmed for Dar and me and a couple of others. You can surprise him."
Chelan shuddered. "Since when is surprising a Warlord such a good idea?"
Fremma chuckled. "Don't worry. The Command Center is a fortress. Only those permitted may enter."
"I seem to remember a certain Commander that missed that particular lesson."
"We are no longer in a battle situation. And Korba is not Solis."
Chelan smiled as he helped her to her feet. "I love you, Fremma," she said with all her heart.
He turned to her, his face serious. "I love you, too, Chelan, and there is something I want you to understand fully before you go. I love you more than anyone I have ever met, and my decision to let you go to Korba is out of my love for you. It does not mean that I am rejecting you, or that my feelings for you are somehow diminished. I simply know where your heart lies, and I know that is where you will be the happiest." He took her arms and squeezed them tight. He knelt before her, his voice a low, soft whisper. "And if you ever change your mind, I will be here. And if he ever rejects you, I will not. You and I will make love together forever as soon as you give me that beautiful alien heart of yours. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Good," he breathed, pressing his head into her chest.
Chelan hugged him fervently. But suddenly, he stood, breaking her embrace and pushing her toward the shower. He turned from her before she could see his face. He only prayed that no matter what happened, whether Korba loved her or discarded her, that he was gentle with her, for she was the one woman in the galaxy Fremma knew he would love to the exclusion of all others.
* * *
Korba stood at the console filing through mission data, his mind toiling fruitlessly through the statistics. Then he squeezed his eyes shut as flashes of light pierced his thoughts, images of the pregnant woman in the caverns fragmenting before him. He clenched his jaw, fighting to cleanse his mind and drawing on years of discipline to flush away the plume of intruding contamination.
He looked back at the data stream and tried to focus. Explosions replayed unbidden, body parts rained down before him, fighters plummeted from the sky. He threw his head back, attempting to shake off the assaulting maelstrom. Death was choking the life from him. So many had perished, so many were maimed... so much was lost.
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the pain from the wound Stose had mended reminding him that he was still alive. His thoughts were still not coalescing as logically as he would have wished, but he knew they would sort... soon, he hoped. This degree of perturbation had never happened before, and it was unacceptable.
The doors parted, startling him, and Marri flowed in. "Well, my Lord," she said smiling. "I did not expect to see you again so soon, especially under these circumstances." She looked down at her form-fitting gown.
Korba straightened and smiled at her, admiring her beauty and the dress she had chosen. Marri was much older than he, but she always maintained a freshness and a youthful lilt that belied her true age. Though their age difference was more than simply a few years, Korba felt she w
as as young as he, her youthful exuberance washing over him each time she came around. "Come in," he offered warmly as he pressed a switch.
"Yes, my Lord."
"No one is to disturb me until morning, Yanis, absolutely no one. Is that understood?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Marri faltered, her eyes opening wide. "This must be a very important social call, my Lord. I do not think my presence has ever demanded such security before."
Korba's eyes were regaining their sparkle. He turned from her and picked up two glasses of the cool blue liqueur, passing one to her. "And so it is important," he said, raising his glass to hers.
Marri eyed him carefully. Something about him had changed, and her heartbeat began to quicken. She took a sip of the liquid and stared deeply into his eyes. "Here's to the completion of our mission, my Lord."
He nodded to her. "And with that completion, my friend, I now open the next chapter in my life."
Marri stood very still and watched him take a long sip of his drink. Then he removed her glass from her hand and placed them both down on the console. Korba stepped up to her and tipped her face to his, tasting her lips tentatively.
Marri moaned softly and returned his kiss. Then she looked up at him in disbelief. "You don't know how long I have waited for that," she breathed.
Korba smiled and slipped his hands around her muscular waist. He kissed her passionately.
Marri swooned. It was finally happening, and she gave herself to him completely. Her hands coursed over his muscular body, her experienced fingers easily liberating him from his jacket. She was instantly beside herself with happiness and wanton desire.
Korba released her mouth and travelled down her neck, his lips consuming her taut, bronze skin. He pressed his pelvis into hers and felt her shudder. Extracting himself from her temporarily, he took a deep breath, forcing his mind to concentrate on her and not on the emptiness that filled his chest. Almost ruefully, he reached for the neck of her dress.
Marri closed her eyes. She was wary of the thoughts behind this sudden change of events, especially after such a long and costly battle, but she was not about to question whatever had brought about her good fortune. "At last," she uttered. "I've wanted to make love to you for so long."
Korba did not answer her. He gently pulled the gown off her shoulders and over her small, firm breasts. He let it fall about her waist. He knelt before her and took her nipple with his lips, caressing her with his tongue.
Marri arched her back. Her hands kneaded his powerful shoulders and neck. She fought for restraint, but to no avail. "I want you inside me now," she gasped as she clutched his head to her breast.
Her request jolted Korba back to reality, and suddenly he was unsure of his decision. "Patience," he uttered as he stood. His hands smoothed over her back as his tongue explored her mouth. His mind struggled to make a decision. He had come closer to death this time than at any time in his past, and his mortality had been laid prostrate before him. He was not invincible, and his next battle could be his last. But until that fatal plow was delivered, he wanted a woman in his life. It was time, and he wanted Marri. He squeezed her to him until she could barely breathe.
Marri winced, knowing full well that his death grip on her was putting extreme pressure on his chest wound, and the fact that he was either enduring the pain or deliberately inflicting it distressed her. She pushed back from him slightly and looked up at him, but she saw nothing in his eyes that alarmed her. Maybe this was her dream come true after all.
* * *
Fremma had taken Chelan quickly down a long corridor and was now entering the last set of security codes. The doors finally parted, and he held her firmly. "Good luck, Chelan," he whispered. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me. And Chelan... be honest with him. Tell him quickly how you feel, and don't wait for any pain from the past to consume you or to cloud your thoughts."
Chelan smiled lovingly at him. She reached up and kissed his lips gently. Then she turned and walked into the workout area, the doors closing silently behind her. She was so happy she could barely contain herself. She had put the past behind her and was following the purity of her heart. She wanted Korba desperately, and now was her chance.
Chelan padded silently in her bare feet toward the Command Center. She slowed her approach, conscious of sounds emanating from the area. She held her breath, listening as she prudently remained in the shadows. Finally, she peered into the brightly lit room.
Her reaction was immediate and involuntary. She cupped her hand over her mouth, instant nausea overtaking her, and her knees gave way.
Chelan slumped to the floor, straining to keep from being sick and from making any sounds. She looked up through clouded eyes and watched Korba kiss Marri lustfully, his hands stroking her body.
She rocked herself, trying to regain some semblance of control. She had to get out, and she had to be quiet, but most of all, she had to leave now and forever. She only hoped that her body would respond.
With one hand still over her mouth, she grasped at her convulsing stomach and staggered to her feet. She was weak, but she ordered her legs to carry her silently and swiftly to the security door, praying that they would open for her.
They did, and Chelan sprawled out into the corridor. She scrambled to her feet and bolted toward Fremma's quarters. The guards moved aside quickly, allowing her unhindered access. The doors shut, and she fell to the floor, her stomach heaving. Chelan curled up into a ball, determined to keep from retching.
Suddenly, she ceased her movements and held her breath. She rose onto her hands and knees and listened to the sound of the shower running. She straightened her tussled hair and hurried over to the bed. She sat, calling on every bit of body control Yanis had taught her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, entering a near-meditative state, calmly waiting for Fremma to finish. She used the time to erase the scene of Marri and Korba from her bruised and bloodied thoughts. It was Fremma whom she had to concentrate on, to the exclusion of all else.
Chelan stood as Fremma walked into the room, holding a towel over his back. "Chelan," he exclaimed. "What happened? Why are you here?"
"It's all right," she lied, smiling. "I went in quietly, and it turned out he was busy in the Command Center. So I left."
Fremma approached her slowly.
Chelan remained composed. "I'll go back later. I'm sure he won't be long."
Fremma nodded to her, not quite sure if she was being genuine or not.
"Actually," she began, "I'm kind of glad that he was busy. It gave me a little additional time to think, especially about what you said to me before I left."
Fremma became rigid. He searched her face for signs of distress, but found none. He listened to her carefully.
Chelan stepped up to him and looked deeply into his azure eyes. Her voice softened. "I've tried to deny it, but as I watched him in the Command Center, Fremma, I came to the realization..." She hesitated, placing her hand gently on his chest. "I realized that it is you I really want." She reached up and kissed his unresponsive lips.
"Chelan," he began. But she stopped him, pressing her finger to his mouth. She smiled as her hands slipped over his skin, her lips once again taking his.
Fremma began to reciprocate. But he was wary. He knew her too well, and he was fully aware of her unshakable loyalty to Korba. There was something amiss, but he was having trouble denying her passion. He closed his eyes and began consuming her sweet mouth. He hugged her close. He tried to maintain control, but her expert touch brought his manhood rapidly to life. He wanted this so badly.
She continued to fondle him, her touch suddenly becoming urgent. "Chelan," he gasped. He grabbed her arms tightly and pulled her away from him in a last futile effort to decipher what was happening. He saw her facade falter, and his heart sank, knowing his worst fears were confirmed. She had walked in on more than a military discussion. "Chelan..." he whispered.
But before he could continue, she ran both her hands
down his erection. She breathed into his ear. "Make love to me, Fremma. Please, make love to me completely."
Fremma clenched his jaw and dropped to his knees before her, tearing her hands from him. He hung his head and wrestled with his torrid emotions. Finally he looked up into her stricken face. He spoke sternly. "No, Chelan. I will not make love to you." He took a deep breath as his eyes pierced hers. "What was Korba doing in the Command Center when you walked in?"
Chelan began to tremble. She sank down beside him, her eyes watering. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Please don't turn me away, Fremma. I couldn't bear that right now." She swallowed hard and her chin began to quiver. "Please don't make me beg you to make love to me. Please don't do that."
Fremma's heart was being wrenched from his chest, the void filling with rage. He grabbed her arms roughly. "What was he doing, Chelan?" he commanded.
Chelan tore away from him and sprang to her feet, yelling at him in despair. "He was with Marri! The bastard was with Marri!"
Fremma stood, but she shrank away from him, her voice venomous. "You told me to come back if I needed you. You said you would take me. You've always said I could have you. And now you refuse me. You lied!"
Fremma reached for her, but she recoiled from him and turned, running toward the doors. There, she whirled to face him again. "No, you're right," she breathed anxiously. "You're right to turn me away. You don't deserve to be saddled with me. And I don't deserve you!"
Fremma's jaw dropped, utterly appalled at her words. "Chelan! Don't talk that way!" he shouted. "I am not rejecting you. And I never lied to you!"
Chelan backed from him, shaking her head. She felt sick, and she was delirious with pain. Blindly, she bolted from his quarters.