Daniel turned from the horrid sight, catching his breath and swallowing the rising bile. With trembling hands, he started sending causality and damage requests to his array teams. As he waited for their replies, he scanned the shambled mess of starships being displayed on the bridges CID that had once been the TSB Fleet, still shaken by the sight of the dead XO.
Eight of the sixteen TSB battleships had been destroyed, while four more were heavily damaged, having fallen out of formation. Sixteen cruisers had been destroyed, with ten more being heavily damaged. Twenty-two corvettes were destroyed, ten with minor damage. Fifty-six frigates, both EW and standard, were destroyed, with another thirty damaged. Daniel shook his head in disbelief at the level of destruction, before accessing the command audio channel, hoping to hear the order to retreat, to stop this useless charade.
“...repeat...all TSB starships immediately commence 90 degree burn. Once turn is complete, prepare to redeploy, next contact estimated in two hours....repeat...” Daniel muted the channel and again glanced over his shoulder at the dead XO, now being rushed from the bridge by a frantic medical team.
Fresh anger welled within him as he knew it was only a matter of time till they all shared the same, useless fate.
*********
The black “coffin”, which Trent had learned to be a type of unpowered transport shuttle, lowered slowly into the empty recess within personal shuttle bay one. Trent took a deep breath, hoping Taku had accomplished what he claimed he could, falsifying the shuttle’s docking location sent to docking control, and there wouldn't be an armed detachment rushing into the bay the moment he exited the maintenance tunnel.
As Trent’s finger hovered over the releases icon, the front of the shuttle slid open, revealing the form of a woman. She wore a dark red and black jumpsuit, so tight he thought it must be made of spandex, hugging her womanly curves to the point of bursting. She stretched, carefully climbing free of the shuttle while scanning the small bay. Finding it empty, she pulled off her helmet, letting her long, silky black hair tumble free.
Trent froze, his heart trying to flee his chest. It’s her, his mind screamed, the woman from my dreams! He watched, mesmerized, as, like a lost child, she wandered slowly towards the PDU in the center of the room, a subtle hint of confusion in her darting eyes. Trent found himself locked in place. He didn't know what to do. Fear had overtaken him. Freezing his every muscle as a well of emotions exploded free of his closed heart.
Nothing good has ever come from these feelings, he knew, calling forth memories of only pain and betrayal. Why not just stay here, the words appeared from a dark place within his heart, just let this evil woman walk into Sir Simwa's hands, it urged, its whisper tempting.
“No,” the idea vanished alongside the word. He had to protect her. He had to keep her safe. Away from Sir Simwa and his men, no matter the hated feelings she caused to form within him.
He struck the release icon, the access port sliding open. Carefully, he pulled himself through, along with a blinding cloud of grey dust. He clumsily grasped the ladder extending down the wall before him, climbing down, stumbling to regain his feet. He turned to the black haired beauty, forcing the childish desire to flee from his mind, and smiled awkwardly. The laser arc she had leveled on his chest, aiming directly for his rapidly beating heart, clattered to the floor as she stared upon him with utter disbelief.
“Trent?” she whispered, her voice like a goddess whose words were never meant for mortal men to behold. It took all his will not melt where he stood.
She knows me, the knowledge made him want to scream for all the world to hear. He rushed forward, not really comprehending why, but knowing it the right thing to do. She didn’t turn, didn’t flee, just continued to stare upon him, beckoning him with her gaze. He slowed a half meter away, inching closer and closer, until her breath caressed his lips, and her musk tickled his nose. He stared into her emerald green eyes, finding relief, and something else...something that made his mind go blank and his chest ache for her tender touch.
A tiny animal with purple fur suddenly crawled onto her shoulder with a squeak, reminding him of a marmoset, but with six thin arms and four beady eyes, staring at him curiously. He stared upon the unknown creature, his mind clearing at the sight, then back to the woman who graced him with a smile that would forever haunt his dreams. He was about to beg her name, when a crash broke him free of his trance.
Shouts echoed from outside the door, many feet shuffling past, heading from the hanger bay in the direction of docking control. Trent grabbed the woman's hand and pulled her towards the access port leading to the maintenance tunnels.
“Please be advised; escaping through the maintenance tunnels will be a hindrance should you be discovered. Risk of capture is significantly less if you proceed through the TSB Earth Base’s primary hanger bay,” explained a monotone voice that Trent found all too familiar. He spun, looking to the woman, her gaze, though seductive, still locked in disbelief, then down to the bronze sphere being projected a few centimeters above her exotic bracelet, “Sir Simwa has seized control of TSB Earth Base in the name of the NHA and contact with those loyal to him or his cause is not recommended. Once retrieval and formal awarding of Star of Terra is completed, it is advisable to flee TSB Earth Base with all haste. Please proceed into the corridor and to the transport tube station situated on the far side of the hanger bay,” Trent stared at the sphere, uncertain if he should listen to its suggestions. The woman, noticing his hesitation, placed a tender hand on his cheek, turning him so as she could stare into his eyes. He blushed furiously, placing a hand to his chest to keep his heart from escaping.
“This is Vin, a Program,” her voice entranced him, “it would be unwise for us to not heed its advice,” her words calmed his fevered mind, even as they reverberated through his aching heart. He nodded his understanding, fearful to speak, for the words of his yearning may spill forth. When she removed her hand from his cheek, his heart cried out at the loss of her touch. But it again sang joyously when she grasped her hand in his, a sense of relief coursing through his flesh while he guided her towards the door.
Carefully, he peeked his head beyond, peering down the corridor and finding it clear. He took a deep breath, glancing back to the woman while tightening his grip, only to almost collapse to the floor as she threw her hair back with a nod. They dashed towards the open hanger bay door, bursting into the enormous hanger bay.
Hand in hand, they sprinted to the nearest stack of silver crates, kneeling between two. He pulled the woman close, scanning their surroundings. The hanger bay appeared empty, though it was hard to be certain with the silver crates stacked randomly throughout, blocking his view. A gentle breath caressed his neck, and he suddenly became acutely aware of the soft body pressing against his. He felt himself push closer, the flowery aroma, mixed with her feminine fragrance, rising from her flesh, beckoning for his touch, threatening to drown his rational mind. She gazed into his eyes questioningly, and he flushed, forcing an embarrassed smiled.
What’s wrong with me, he questioned, this is totally unlike me, he knew, hurrying out from between the crates, weaving between the smaller stacks in the direction of the next large pile about 25 meters away.
They paused briefly, scanning the area ahead, before hastening to the next stack. Slowly, they made progress, and when they were about halfway across the hanger bay, distant voices touched his ear. Panicked, they rushed to nearest stake of crates, only two high, finding a narrow crevice between that was completely hidden. He forced the woman in first, then slipped in behind.
*********
Trent's body pressed against her in the narrow crevice, filling her mind with his earthy, but heady musk, sending her heart aflutter. His arms somehow found space around her, allowing him to draw her ever closer, making sure no matter how hard she tried; she'd be unable to move, unable to escape his grasp.
Her breath became rapid, almost matching the frantic pace of her heart, while her skin began to bur
n, flushing pure scarlet. Trent's cheek brushed against her ear and she found that her arm had slid around his waist, allowing her to bury her face in his neck. The voices came closer, partially masked by rapid footfalls. Sasha tried to suppress the sound of her beating heart that threatened to muffle all sound.
“...system made a mistake about where the personal shuttle landed...no one knows if it’s a false alarm...still wants us to search all 200 bays...it's going to take...” the voices faded as the group rushed passed without pause. Trent continued to hold her close, and Sasha found herself unconsciously caressing his back, her mind lost in his presence.
Trent, noticeably reluctant, pulled himself away, but kept one arm around her waist while they wiggled free of their hiding spot. Sasha glanced to his face, finding cheeks flush, with a light covering of perspiration growing on his brow. Unconsciously, she started studying his dust covered features, noticing he looked slightly different, almost younger, then the man she first beheld in the record so long ago.
Trent’s curly, dirty brown locks appeared fuller, and the age lines, less pronounced. His skin, though showing his tension, was smooth with none of the years of hardship she had sensed before. His nose and ears seemed smaller, their size more in line with his large, oval shaped head, while his jaw was just as pronounced, masculine, as she remembered. His lips, which he licked when her gaze touched them, were full and luscious, while his hazel green eyes twinkled, though hid something dark deep within.
Trent’s hand slid around the nape of her neck, then down her arm to grasp her hand. Her heart skipped, a shiver of pure pleasure moving in its wake. Terra purred loudly from between her bosoms, sensing an unexpected emotion, or one she convinced herself was unexpected, bursting forth to fill her every pore.
Trent started forward, forcing Sasha to tighten her grasp on his clammy hand, fearful of losing his touch. She had no problem matching his speed as they hurried again across the immense hanger bay, careful not to be seen as they scurried between the stacks of crates.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at a long run of adjacent doorways, which Sasha assumed led to the transport tube station. As Trent peered through a crack in-between two crates, Sasha unconsciously slipped her arm around his waist, pushing her cheek into his. His warmth transferred into her, coursing through her flesh to pierce her very heart.
Trent tensed, but her light caress seemed to place him at ease. He put his own arm around her in response. She let her mind linger on the touch, ignoring the feelings growing ever stronger within, before turning back to the task at hand.
When no one appeared, Trent started to pull away, signaling that he was going first. A feeling of loss struck her as he moved away, around the crates. But he paused, glancing back at her, then his hand, before rushing back. With a strength that felt like he was telling her he would never again let go, he grasped her hand, signaling for her to follow. She could only nod, her heart returning to her chest as an enormous sense of relief washed over her.
Together, they ran to the doors, moving adjacent to one that was partially open. Trent gradually leaned forward, peering through the crack.
*********
Two burly ex-TSB crewmen lounged in the center of the lobby, their backs to the hanger bay door, playing cards while occasionally glancing towards the circling transport tubes. Trent turned back to the woman at his side, clenching his teeth to help hold back the urge to embrace her, and made a gesture that there were two people within and he would take them out with his laser arc. She nodded, fear evident in her caring eyes, then, as he was about to rush in, she pulled him back, forcing him to muffle a grunt.
She gestured wildly with her hands, trying to say something, but Trent couldn't understand. He stared into her eyes, seeing a look...a look he would follow knowingly to his death...that told to let her handle this. Reluctantly, he nodded, trusting his life to this extraordinary beauty. She pointed at his laser arc, then to his holster. After a second, he complied, putting away the weapon.
She moved through the door and he followed, still holding her hand, hers slightly clammy. She sauntered straight at the men, swaying her hips seductively while Trent tried to keep the nervous tension from showing on his face. The two men turned as one when they heard the approaching footsteps.
“Shift change boys,” said the woman with a half-grin and a wink, “my man and I will take it from here,” she finished, running a seductive finger down her cleavage. Noticeably baffled, the two men looked at each other, then back at them.
“Shift change ain't for another hour or so,” the older of the two men said suspiciously, scratching a striking scar that cut from chin to ear. Trent tensed, preparing to draw his laser arc when he felt the woman squeeze hard on his hand.
“You dare question me,” she sounded incredulous, “I informed the captain that me and my man here wanted to get some time to ourselves,” she placed a hand on her hip, leaning forward, “he agreed, but said we would have to take a duty shift. I have no issue informing him of your disobeying orders...or your assistance with this most pressing matter,” she winked, pushing out her chest as she stood straight. Trent’s anger began to boil forth, clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to restrain it, “Easy boy,” she slid her arm around his waist, pressing her bosoms against his arm, “I haven’t even gotten started with you yet,” she purred, rubbing her leg against his. A raging lust fought through the anger, screaming for him to ravage the woman who riled him like no other. He fought with himself, one, two, three, counting slowly, trying to keep control. The two men's expressions shifted to wide smiles of understanding.
“Ah, My Lady, I had no idea. If you ever want a real man,” he snorted at Trent, “come find me, Maintenance Engineer James,” he finished with a wink, pushing the confused youngster towards the exit. The woman acted intrigued, blowing a kiss to the two men as they exited into the hanger bay with a wave. She dragged him into the transport tube, which started moving before either of them could say a word.
*********
Never before had she acted a paramour, having only witnessed their behavior when those who followed that particular traditionalist sect visited Tidelia’s court. I can’t believe I pulled it off, she thought excitedly, Tiana will never believe it, she continued, remembering all the times her lady-in-waiting had implied Sasha was already an old crow. With a wide smile, she turned to Trent.
He stood trembling, his expression shifting between confusion, anger, and another that Sasha decided to ignore...like she'd been doing with her own.
“What just happened? Why did you act like that?” Trent questioned.
“I did what needed to be done, Trent. I was concerned about your plan, and since both were petty crewman, it was quite obvious they had not been introduced to all the nobles currently residing in the base,” Trent stared in confusion, having trouble grasping what she was saying, “Trent, there is a certain sect of single noble ladies and gentlemen that have a reputation of openly dallying with many different men and women, and throwing their weight around to get what they want,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “I just provided those two the impression that I am one of these noble ladies and you are my toy. Then after a little nudge that I had received permission from the captain for us to be assigned a post alone, there was no way they would complain,” Trent's expression shifted to understanding, then quickly became dubious.
“Is...is this something you do normally?” he asked, his voice wobbly. Sasha felt her heart throb when she heard the question. He'd misunderstood, and she was horrified by that fact.
“No, of course not!” she growled, “I do not dally with any man!” the ferociousness of her words caused him to shrink back, the dubiousness shifting to concern, mixing with a bit of hurt.
“I'm sorry,” he squeaked, “I...I didn't mean to offend you,” his sorrowful look, like a lost puppy, caused her heart to ache.
Her body moved on its own, embracing him with her entire being. She panicked whe
n she realized her involuntary actions, trying to pull away, but found he was embracing her just as possessively.
“How do you know me?” his breath caressed her ears, “and why do I feel like I've met you before, that I’ve just met another part of myself?” his words penetrated her very soul.
“My name is Sasha and,” she swallowed, “and I know you from the enlistment trial record,” he broke free of her grasp, falling to the floor in his haste and crawling away till his back touched the tube transport’s wall. The feeling of total loss returned, but she controlled the urge to rush back to his side.
“Grand Duchess Sasha?” he asked, pushing himself up the wall to recover his feet. So he does know me, her mind cried with bliss. She nodded taking a step towards him. His skin drained of all color. “How am I supposed to refer to you?” he asked without emotion. She stormed forward till her nose touched his.
“You will call me Sasha,” she stamped her foot, “always!” she pushed closer, pinning him against the wall, repressing the sudden urge to punch him. Anger beyond anything she had ever felt swirled within while his skin regained its previous color, then flushed, eyes going wide with horror, as if something even more horrible had come to his mind.
“Are you responsible for the enlistment trial?” he trembled, words sounding more of begging than asking, like he desperately wanted her to say no.
“No,” she obliged him truthfully, “I did not know of its existence until recently. Knight Captain Quinn wanted me to look into the matter with Sir Simwa and his lord, Duke Zehman, so I needed the record,” Trent sighed dramatically, letting his forehead rest on hers.
“I'm sorry, Sasha. I...so much has happened, I just...just don't know heads from tails right now,” he spoke slowly. “Who can I trust or what is going on,” his voice fell to a whisper, “I just don't know what to do anymore...I’m sorry,” Sasha squeezed his cheeks, his lips puckering unnaturally. A single tear trickled over her knuckle from his eyes, showing sorrow and pain, both being held back by sheer will.
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