by Shae Mills
"Damn!" yelled Fremma. "Chelan!" he shouted after her. He ran for his uniform. Dressing quickly, he rushed out into the corridor, grabbing Yanis bearishly by the shroud. "Where did she go?" he shouted.
Yanis pointed to the right.
"Why didn't you stop her?" he demanded.
"I assumed you gave her permission to leave. Korba gave orders not to be disturbed, so I knew she could not have left you seeking access to the Command Center," replied the flustered guard.
Fremma shoved him to the side and started toward the Command Center in unconstrained anger.
"No!" shouted Yanis. "Please. Korba requested that he not be disturbed by anyone." Yanis stepped defiantly in front of his superior officer.
"Let me pass, Yanis," growled Fremma.
"I'm sorry, Sir. Those were my direct orders from the Commander himself."
Fremma moved like lightening as he struck Yanis in the head with a crippling blow. Without a moment's hesitation, he lashed out again, disabling the other three men, three of his best. Not waiting for their recovery, Fremma broke incautiously into the Command Center, his heart swollen with fury, his blood festering with pain.
But the great warrior did not have time to react to his Commander's deadly speed. Korba pushed Marri to the ground protectively, simultaneously releasing a throwing blade at the perceived threat. His dagger hit home, sinking deep into Fremma's chest, and the warrior crumpled to his knees in shock.
"Fremma!" cried Korba, realizing his mistake too late. He froze in horror.
The doors parted again, and Dar burst in, responding to an emergency call from the guards. Instantly, he lunged forward, catching Fremma as the warrior toppled backward.
Marri was stunned. She glanced around quickly, seeking escape from the atrocity that had just occurred, but she found herself paralyzed.
Korba shook himself from his stupor and leapt to Fremma's side, falling to his knees. "Damn you, Fremma! What in hell..." Korba stopped cold as he looked into the warrior's contorted face.
Dar tipped him back and cradled his head in his lap. "Stay still, Fremma. Please lie still. Don't try to speak."
Korba jumped to his feet and hit the emergency button. He returned immediately to Fremma's side, his eyes beholding his knife, the entire blade contained within his friend's chest.
Grimacing with pain, Fremma looked over at Marri and pointed toward her. "Get out," he breathed, his voice raspy as his lungs filled with blood.
Dar looked up and noticed Marri for the first time. His eyes crawled over her partially clad body, and then he looked accusingly at Korba. Suddenly, his mind was jolted as if by an electric shock. He looked back at Marri. "Get... out," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Marri rose onto her knees, pulling her gown up over her. She looked to Korba for defense, but he remained fixated on Fremma.
"Get out!" Dar shouted viciously.
Marri swallowed. "You have no authority to order—"
Dar's voice boomed. "I hold the command of this vessel until Korba dictates otherwise. Therefore, I hold all authority over you and all those on board." He reached beneath his shroud. "Get out now before I shoot you where you stand."
Marri's eyes opened wide in disbelief. She looked to Korba for help, but he was totally unresponsive. Marri gathered herself quickly. She knew the blonde-haired Warlord would hold true to his word, and she had best make a prudent and hasty retreat from the Center.
Fremma immediately relaxed, his labored breathing easing. Dar swallowed hard as he put the picture together in his mind. "Fremma," he whispered. "Where is Chelan?"
Korba's eyes shot to Dar's.
"I don't know," whispered Fremma, his chest rumbling as he winced with pain. "She came here to be with Korba, but..." his voice cracked, and he convulsed, his life fluid oozing from the corners of his mouth.
Korba sucked in a breath of air. He stared down at Fremma. "But she was not here." He wiped Fremma's brow. "The guards were ordered to halt anyone."
Fremma swallowed and shook his head sluggishly.
Just then, the doors parted and Stose ran in. "What the hell..." he exclaimed as he leapt to Fremma's side.
But Fremma ignored the doctor. He continued weakly. "She wanted to talk with you, so I let her in the private security entrance." He grimaced and suppressed a cough, his heavy eyes pleading with Korba. "She wanted to surprise you."
Dar stroked Fremma's face. "You should rest."
"No. I have to talk."
Korba looked anxiously at Stose, but the doctor nodded, and Fremma continued.
"I went to have a shower, and when I came out, she was back."
Korba reached for Fremma's hand, clutching it as though willing the warrior strength.
Fremma winced, and he looked up at Dar. "She had seen Korba and Marri, but she didn't tell me."
He coughed, and Stose flinched, knowing that the warrior's time was short, but Fremma waved him off, determined to continue. "Dar, she begged me to make love to her. She said that she had finally decided it was time." Fremma squeezed his eyes tight against the misery. "Oh, please forgive me. I refused her, and now she is gone." Fremma convulsed with anguish and cried out in pain. Stose immediately went to work, pushing Korba aside.
The Warlord fell back on the floor, stunned by the revelation. Chelan had stayed with Fremma, but they had never combined.
But Korba did not have time to wallow in his grief as Dar sprang to his feet in a blistering rage. He grabbed Korba violently and hurled him down the Command Center stairs. Korba twisted instantly to his feet, just in time to meet Dar as the blonde Warlord struck him, pinning him back against the main console. "You goddamn fool! Don't you know how much she loves you?"
Korba succumbed to Dar's grip and stared into his friend's frenzied eyes.
"What the hell were you doing with Marri? And what the hell were you thinking?" shouted Dar.
"How the hell would I know about Chelan's feelings?" Korba shouted back defensively. He pushed Dar off. "When I came back, she told me that she was staying with Fremma and then she left me! What was I supposed to think? I know her Earth values. She wanted no part of my company." Korba rubbed at his throat and then clutched at his wounded chest.
Dar drew in several deep breaths, attempting to regain control of himself. He paced in front of Korba. "There is no one that I have come to love more in this forsaken galaxy than Chelan, and I will take her for myself with no hesitation. She is beautiful, she is brilliant, and she is worthy of a Warlord." Dar's voice was riddled with rancor. "Either you get yourself and your feelings together immediately, or she is mine, my friend, and no one in the universe will prevent me from Letting that beautiful alien. Not even you!" Dar's eyes burned deep into Korba. Finally, he stood still. There was a moment of silence, and then Dar whirled and slammed his fist down unexpectedly onto the console. "Who do you think saved your Imperial soul back there on that hellhole of a planet?"
Korba straightened. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the final mission, the destruction of the power plant and the ultimate elimination of the breeding colony." Dar stepped directly in front of him. "You and I had both settled on the area in Sector 17, the area with all the ships detected by our low-altitude pictures. It was Chelan who found the main force."
Korba looked at Dar in disbelief. "Those were small, highly maneuverable fighters. Their design was totally alien to us, and they were barely discernible from the ground, and even less so from the air."
"Regardless," snapped Dar, "they were not alien to Chelan. And whether you come to your senses or not, just remember that the reason you are standing here now to live another day is she." Dar's eyes bored into him and he lowered his voice to a threatening growl. "So make your decision, my friend. And make it now!"
Korba was now staggered by two simultaneous revelations, that of Dar's love for Chelan, and that of her lifesaving insight. He took a deep breath and began to gather his chaotic thoughts. "I'm sorry, Dar."
Dar collected himself. He looked up at Korba from under his brows. "Out to find anyone who will take her. Out to make love with the first man who will engage her and comfort her in her pain and uncertainty."
Korba exhaled sharply. "Find her, Dar," he hissed. He shook his head. "I cannot go in my state. I would kill anyone I found her with."
It was only then that Dar realized the true intensity of Korba's feelings for Chelan. The superbly controlled Warlord was admitting to his uncontrolled possessiveness, and Dar shuddered. "I'll find her," he assured his friend, and he turned and ran up to Fremma, the warrior now surrounded by medical staff. Dar crouched down. "Fremma," he whispered, "where would she go?"
Fremma opened his dim eyes. He shook his head weakly. "I know her too well. She would not select just anyone. She would seek someone with a familiar name or face, or possibly an officer."
Korba returned to the warrior's side and knelt down, listening to him carefully. Dar started to rise, but Fremma placed a hand on his knee. Fremma convulsed and then caught himself, his eyes wide with distress. "Dar, you must work fast. She knows the ship as well as you or me. She's on the edge, my Lord. She's distraught, driven by pain and hopelessness. She feels her life is near an end, and she is irrational. Our men do not know her ways or her inhibitions. If she inadvertently walks in on a group of them and throws caution to the wind, they will not know when to stop, and she may not tell them." Fremma closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "They will take her, and they could hurt her badly, my Lord."
Korba's eyes narrowed dangerously. He leapt to his feet, but Dar tackled him and pushed him down forcefully. Dar's eyes cut into him, cautioning him to stay put. Then Dar moved swiftly to the main computer and called up a floor plan of the ship. Everything was displayed, rooms, corridors, and most importantly, the men's quarters and their names. He thought of using the scanners, but he knew if he located her and if she was with someone, Korba would know who, and the man's untimely death would be assured.
Quickly, Dar made a mental note of the officers on the main deck. He clenched his jaw, exasperated at his lack of knowledge of Korba's men and their locations on this vessel. Then his eyes lit.
Dar sprinted up the stairs toward the doors, but Korba grabbed him roughly. "Find her, Dar. Don't let anyone hurt her," he ordered gruffly through gritted teeth.
Dar nodded and ran from the Command Center, collecting a group of men to accompany him as he began his frantic search.
Chelan, on the other hand, knew exactly where she was going. She had been rejected by both Fremma and Korba, and now she didn't care about herself or her feelings. She wanted a male's most intimate comfort, and she knew not where to find Dar. So she would find another.
Chelan squared her shoulders and strengthened her resolve. She had begun to doubt her attractiveness to these men once again. After all, Fremma had turned her down, and now her emotions were far too mired in pain for her to understand why he had. But she was tired of trying to sort through her all feelings surrounding these men she loved, so at long last, she would follow a different path. To hell with Earth. To hell with her past demons. And most of all, to hell with Korba.
Chelan followed the branches in the corridors, avoiding the crew where she could, and walking quickly past their questioning gazes when she couldn't. Finally, she came to the quarters she sought. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself and pressed a switch.
"Enter," came the deep male voice, and the doors opened automatically.
Chelan was surprised by the lack of security, but it did not matter. She stepped warily into Tarn's quarters. She looked around the large room and then turned toward the wash area just as Tarn rounded the corner, a towel over his head as he dried his long hair.
"Ilan, I didn't really expect you until—" Tarn's voice broke off when he looked up. He froze.
Chelan stood still, allowing him time to regain himself. She looked carefully at his face. He was much older than Dar and Korba, yet he was no less fit. He possessed a rugged handsomeness, a formidable look that caused Chelan to shudder.
Tarn's eyes traced down her lean yet very feminine body. His vision absorbed the glimmer of thigh visible through her gown's slits, and he felt himself warm. He could tell from her beautiful face that it was the little alien he had abducted, but her body had been transformed into that which befit a goddess. He went to speak, but was unable.
"Commander Tarn?" questioned Chelan, unsure of herself and of his identity. She stared expectantly into his azure eyes.
Tarn did not reply, but he twisted the towel in his hands as he approached her slowly. Chelan's eyes flickered over his body, noting his superb conditioning, his muscular, bronze chest and arms, and the slim, hard waist that melted into his uniform.
Finally, Tarn shook himself from his stupor. "Yes," he said quietly, "I am Tarn."
Chelan smiled and released the breath she had been holding. "I'm—"
"Yes, I know," he interrupted. "You're Chelan." Tarn smiled at her. "I did not even know if you were still with us," he admitted.
She smiled. "Yes, I'm still here. Dar and Fremma have taken good care of me."
"I can see that," replied Tarn slowly, as his eyes made one more cast over her curves. "But I thought that Manza—"
Chelan corrected him. "No, Korba rescued me from Manza, but then the mission came to light. Dar and Fremma have cared for me since, but it appears that Korba has lost interest in his pet project."
Tarn put his towel down on the bed and looked deep into her exotic eyes. "I see that at times, my Commander is a fool."
Chelan blushed and looked to the floor, suddenly self-conscious, and suddenly uneasy about her decision. Slowly, she looked back to him. "I came to thank you for saving my life on Calley and for bringing me on board."
Tarn shrugged. "I'm afraid I must plead guilty. However..." His voice trailed off as he peered at her scars. "If it had not been for me and my men, you would have never had to endure this ordeal," he whispered.
"Nonetheless, you spared my life. If you had left me on Calley, I would have died."
Tarn's eyes rose to meet hers. "And that would have indeed been a waste," he uttered quietly. He approached her. "You speak our language well."
"Thank you," she replied. "I have enjoyed learning the mother tongue of such an exquisite race of men."
Tarn's heart stumbled, the innuendo in her soft voice causing him to vacillate. He reached out tentatively for her face, brushing her creamy cheek with his calloused fingers. He drew a deep breath, surprised by the feel of her silky skin and the softness of her flesh.
Chelan kept her eyes on him, quivering at his touch. "I came to thank you personally," she whispered as she boldly stepped up to him.
"Oh, woman," he breathed as he took his first taste of her willing lips. "I think I am going to enjoy your gratitude."
Chelan placed her palms on his warm chest. His hands held her face firmly as his tongue caressed her mouth. Then his lips released hers, and she looked to the ceiling as his fingers moved to her shoulders. He took a step back to watch the feminine body that emerged as he began disrobing her.
Chelan closed her eyes and tilted her head away from him in shyness. She felt the gown slip over her breasts and heard Tarn moan at the sight of her, his hands glazing over her fullness. Unexpectedly, he scooped her off her feet and laid her upon his bed. Chelan tried to relax, but she shook with apprehension.
Tarn's eyes finally left her firm, erect nipples and moved down to her drawn-up legs, her knees pressed tightly together. He did not know of her alien ways, and he did not care. Though she appeared afraid, she had come to him, and her goal was clear. He took her hard nipple in his mouth and began caressing her with his tongue. Then, without preamble, he forced his powerful hand between her knees.
Chelan gasped as his fingers began down her inner thigh toward a point of no return. Sh
e took one more deep breath, her ultimate decision made. She would allow all.
Closing her eyes, she tried to ease the tension in her legs, opening herself to him. But Tarn's response to her submission was far from gentle. Springing from the bed, he pushed her behind him as he drew a lethal blade. Chelan shrieked in startled terror at his violent move. Stumbling behind him, she fell hard onto the floor.
Tarn reached behind himself defensively, crouching and grasping her hand forcefully. "My Lord," he challenged as he protectively shielded Chelan from Dar.
The Warlord and his entourage stepped cautiously into the room. Chelan looked up at Dar, his eyes aflame with unbridled fury. Quickly, she pulled up her gown and scrambled to regain her footing. Tarn remained in front of her, his body insulating her from Dar's heated approach.
"Let her go, Tarn!" Dar commanded bearishly.
"I take no orders from you, my Lord, when it comes to my personal matters."
Dar took a step closer, his eyes fuelled by seething rage.
Tarn intensified the grip on his knife.
"Don't be a fool, Tarn. You know I will kill you."
"No!" defied Tarn. "She came to me willingly."
Dar hesitated, struck by Chelan's stricken face. He watched as she stepped in close to Tarn, seeking his protection and comfort. Dar's chest ached. His voice softened. "Come with me, Chelan."
"Why?"
Dar paused. "Korba wishes to speak with you."
"No!" she shouted, recoiling. "No," she repeated in panic.
Dar took a step closer.
"No!" she shrieked. "Tarn, don't let him take me!"
"Chelan!" commanded Dar. "You'll get Tarn killed!"
Chelan was rendered horrified at the thought. Tarn relaxed the hold on his knife and stepped back to her, his eyes never leaving the Warlord. He clutched her by the waist and pulled her up straight. "Chelan, I don't know what is going on, but I cannot disobey the wishes of Korba. You must go with Dar."
Chelan looked up into his face, her eyes pleading. "If I go, may I return to you?"
"Yes," he whispered, hoping with all his heart that she would. Defiantly, he crushed his lips to hers, savoring her deep, hard, and long.