“No! I want to be by your side. I can fight. I’ve been training.”
He laughed harshly. “Don’t be a fool. You’re my weakness. They’ll know that. They’ll attack you first. I’d be wounded trying to protect you. But they wouldn’t let me die. They’d make me watch while they ravage you. Then kill you. Slowly and painfully.”
She shook her head wildly, tears running down her face. “Please. You’ll need me there. Need my skills. You have to take me with you.”
“Enough,” he growled. He let go of her wrists long enough to free his raging cock, then cupped both hands around her bottom cheeks. Lifting her off her feet, he lowered her until his stiff rod was poised at the entrance to her core. He dug his fingers into her ass, holding her against the wall as he thrust deep.
She gasped and he felt the walls of her channel convulse around him. Dropping to his knees, he laid her on the thick woven carpet, then drove into her. She locked her ankles around his waist, grinding her hips against him with every stroke.
He kept his eyes open, memorizing every inch of her face as he fucked her. Lost himself in the silky deep pools of her eyes, rimmed with turquoise as vivid as the sea they’d frolicked in. Bent to lick the salty tears from her cheeks. They tasted like the drops of water he’d licked from her breasts after he carried her out of the ocean in his arms and kissed her trembling lips for the first time.
“Kadan!” She screamed his name, clawing his back with her nails as he rode her to a shattering climax.
Her pussy contracted, pulsing around his cock. With one final thrust, he exploded. Kadan wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, knowing this moment had to last him forever.
Chapter One
Something is wrong.
Deep in her subconscious mind, the thought stirred. Awakened her. Slowly, almost painfully, dragging her from a sleep so profound it was like clawing her way up from the belly of the Underworld.
She opened her eyes to total blackness. Not even a faint glimmer of light. Lifting an arm that weighed a thousand pounds, she touched her face. I can feel that. I’m not dead.
She flexed the muscles in her legs, her other arm. Wiggled her toes. Everything moved, responded. But she couldn’t feel anything under her back supporting it. Nothing under her feet. Couldn’t tell whether her body was upright or lying down.
Extending her arm, she waved it around. Hit a curved wall surrounding her body about two feet in front of her face.
Dear God, I’m in a coffin. I’ve been buried alive!
Just as she was about to give way to hysteria, the barrier in front of her shifted. Disappeared. A burst of light hit her in the face. She slammed her eyes shut and counted out a full ten seconds, listening intently. Silence, broken only by the sound of her own breathing. Finally she opened one eye a sliver, giving her vision time to adjust to the brightness.
The solid surface had retracted in front of her, leaving a gaping wide opening with light streaming through it. She recognized the feared coffin as her slumberpod, now in the upright position. Maia stepped out, then gasped as the room began swirling around her.
She leaned back into the pod, closing her eyes again and consciously relaxing her body. Allowing herself to float again, suspended, until the wild spinning of the room stopped. Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding she’d had ever since she returned to consciousness.
Hesitantly she opened her eyes and tried again. This time she eased out, placing one foot on the floor while keeping a tight grip on the edge of the slumberpod.
A disembodied hand appeared in front of her. Her heart fluttered wildly.
She blinked and the arm it was attached to came into view. Covered by a white sleeve. Breathe, Maia. All is well. You’ve been in the dark for so long, your eyes couldn’t distinguish a person in a white jumpsuit from the gravibed bay wall.
“Welcome back to the world, Maia. Please, take a moment to orient yourself.” The voice was female. Female and familiar.
“Thank you, but that isn’t necessary. I’m fine.” She took the proffered hand and stepped from the pod.
Her sense of unease ramped up a notch. The simple touch was enough to pick up this woman’s agitation. It radiated from her. Years of training kicked in and Maia set her own feelings aside.
“Something is amiss,” she stated calmly. “Tell me what it is, Commander.”
“Please, call me Rowan.”
She summoned up a smile. “As you wish, Rowan.”
“What makes you think something is wrong?”
The woman was stalling for time. Maia could see the dark tinge in Commander Burnett’s normally clear emerald-green aura. Fear, anxiety, distrust? Any negative emotion could have caused it. Though she didn’t have Rashida’s skills, Maia needed to set the commander’s mind at ease enough to gain her confidence.
“It’s clear something is troubling you, Com… Rowan,” She caught herself midway. “Please, tell me about it. I may be able to help.”
“I can’t imagine how. I don’t even know what’s wrong.” Rowan shook her head. She seemed to be talking to herself when she went on. “Something about this doesn’t feel right. And the Greeters…” Her voice died off.
Maia glanced around. Her eyes had adjusted to the unaccustomed light. The bay was empty save for the two of them and five other slumberpods, still sealed. It looked exactly like the bright, sterile chamber she’d entered a few hours ago. No, not hours, she reminded herself. According to one of the briefings they’d received prior to embarking on this journey, she’d been asleep for approximately thirty years.
“Greeters,” she repeated gently. “Are you referring to the cyborgs who were keeping watch? I recall someone saying they’d be waiting here to help us transition into wakefulness when we arrived.”
Rowan nodded. “That’s right. The cyborgs should be here. And the ship’s engines aren’t working. The subtle vibrations have stopped. I think that’s what woke me. Yet I feel a little off-balance, as though we’re still moving. The change must have penetrated my subconscious enough to bring me to semi-awareness. The pod registered my mind returning to a conscious state and completed the wake cycle. It automatically opens to release the sleeper before we panic at being sealed inside a dark tube.”
She gestured to the two empty slumberpods. “You must have sensed it too. That’s why your pod opened. But the cyborgs aren’t here. We’re alone.”
Rowan straightened her shoulders. Maia could see her gathering her energy, donning her persona of authority.
“Will you stay here, greet the others if they Awaken? I’m going to check the bridge and the engine room. I need to find the cyborgs and figure out what’s happened.”
“Of course, Rowan. Go and do what you need to do.”
Rowan hurried out of the room. Maia heard a low hiss as the lid to another slumberpod slid open behind her.
* * *
Rowan breathed a sigh of relief as she strode down the hall toward the bridge. Thank goodness Maia Awakened before the others. She had confidence in the woman’s ability to bring the others to a state of full awareness gently and calmly. Besides being an empath, Maia was a skilled Healer. She’d spent her entire life learning to channel the positive flow of energy in the Universe and direct it to ease pain and promote wellness, both physical and mental.
Rowan had no idea what had happened on the ship, and she certainly wasn’t going to blurt that out to her remaining passengers when they Awakened the way she did with Maia. At least she didn’t have to worry about how they would deal with a possible crisis. None of those chosen for this trip were likely to give way to panic. The Federation had seen to that, administering psychological tests, spending hours on simulations designed to ferret out any weaknesses. But she’d been in enough tight spots to know that no simulation could uncover every flaw in a person’s character.
She owed her present position to one such fault in her predecessor. Commander Flynn had crumbled, halfway through a six-month routine miss
ion checking up on outlying colonies. Simply fallen apart one day over a missing case of gaja fruit. It turned out she’d been using the nasty-smelling skins to manufacture a crude form of hootch. Apparently Flynn had been operating half-smashed for so long no one serving under her knew it because they’d never seen her completely sober. Rowan found out later the commander suffered from severe depression. Operating in a haze of alcohol dulled the pain enough to allow her to continue functioning.
As second in line, Rowan had been elevated to commander in the middle of that voyage as soon as Admiral Newell became aware of the situation. She’d done her best to be worthy of his faith in her ever since.
She strode onto the bridge, rows of panels lighting up automatically as she entered the room. Two cyborgs sat at the helm with their backs to her, unmoving.
“Charles! Devon! What’s going on? Why weren’t you…” She headed toward them, then stopped, horrified. Though they sat upright, facing the control panel, their skulls were empty shells. She could see the fried remains of circuitry through gaping holes where their eyes had been.
Fighting past her shock and fear, she pulled up the ship’s log. Today’s date—2.11.2817. Location—Vector 5. Distance traveled—156 parsecs.
156 parsecs? Impossible.
And the date? They were scheduled to arrive on Tyrendia 3 on 5.21.2746. If the log was correct, they’d been in a state of suspended animation far too long, overshooting the star system they’d been headed for by… She did the quick calculation, stunned at the result. Over seventy Earth years.
“Siri, system check.”
“Yes, Commander,” replied the pleasant female voice.
Thank heaven something was functioning properly.
“It is good to have you back on the bridge, Commander. I trust your Awakening went well?”
“No, it didn’t,” she snapped. “Do the damn system check.”
Siri responded immediately. “Yes, sir.” The computer went through every onboard system, reporting the results in a crisp staccato. “Life support—functional. Current operating level—23% of capacity. Adequate to sustain two newly Awakened life forms. Navigational system—functional. Stabilizers—functional. Propulsion system—functional but currently disengaged. Cyborg support staff—nonfunctional. Autopilot backup—also functional, currently disengaged.”
“Propulsion and autopilot disengaged? Who gave that order? And what happened to the cyborgs?”
Siri went back to conversational mode. “I’ll answer those questions in reverse order, sir. The cyborg support staff was rendered nonfunctional when our ship encountered hostile beings as we traveled through the decimated remains of the Tyrendian solar system. Enemy forces scanned our ship and detected the cyborgs as well as seven beings suspended inside the slumberpods. With only two functioning life forces, the enemy perceived no immediate threat from our craft. However, they did send out a cyborg cessation blast. Since our ship lacked both the combatants and the weapons to engage in battle, I made the decision not to offer any resistance. I allowed the enemy to incapacitate the cyborgs to ensure the safety of the human cargo. Having removed any threat by disabling them, the enemy allowed the ship to continue on its way.”
“Decimated remains of the Tyrendian solar system…” Stunned, Rowan repeated the last words that penetrated the fog in her brain.
“Was that a question, sir, or merely an expression of disbelief? I’m unable to discern the difference due to the lack of inflection in your voice.”
A history buff, Rowan had picked the disembodied female entity known as Siri to be the voice of the onboard computer system on her ship. Just as she’d chosen the nickname Airstream for the sleek transport ship she commanded. Both private jokes. Nods to ancient inventions considered groundbreaking, each in its own way. Now she deeply regretted her choice, at least when it came to the computer. Rather than being mildly amusing, right now Siri’s well-modulated tone and reasonable responses grated on her nerves, made her want to scream and throw things. But she suspected if she did, the bitch would deliver a lecture and infuriate her even more. That behavior has proven ineffective when attempting to solve a problem, Commander.
Rowan took a deep breath. “The lack of inflection in my voice at the moment is a result of my attempt to remain in control of my emotions, Siri. Please continue with your report.”
“Very well, Commander. With our final destination no longer in existence, the autopilot simply continued to operate the ship, maintaining our course heading until such time as a command was entered to disengage it or change course.”
“For another seventy plus years.”
“That is correct, Commander.”
Siri paused, as though expecting another remark. When Rowan remained silent, the computer continued. “At 21.36 hours on 2.10.2817 our ship came within range of another vessel, the first one we encountered since leaving the remains of Tyrendia 3. Though I was unable to discern its point of origin, I detected no immediate threat from the ship. According to my calculations, on our current course heading, the Airstream would not encounter a planet bearing compatible life forms for another three centuries. Lack of routine maintenance over that length of time created an unacceptable risk of system failure in the gravibed bay. My scan revealed the approaching vessel carried life forms with a similar biological makeup to those on this craft, so I allowed it to remotely disengage the autopilot and take control.”
This time Rowan couldn’t check her anger and frustration. “Let me see if I understand. We’ve entered an uncharted vector of the galaxy. We have no power. And we’re being towed through space right now to a place we know nothing about with no way to escape—because you took it upon yourself to surrender control of my ship to some unknown aliens who just happened to fly by?”
“That is correct. I allowed them to remotely disengage the propulsion system, Commander. After analyzing all data, allowing the ship to be commandeered by beings seemingly intent on coming to its aid proved to be the most logical way to assure preservation of the life forms on this vessel.”
“And of course preservation of the life forms in the slumberpods is your prime directive for this mission.” Her shoulders slumped. “It wouldn’t have occurred to you to simply wake me up,” she muttered.
“That decision exceeded the scope of my authority. According to my analysis of the situation, there was no need to disturb you, Commander. At no time was your life form in immediate danger. I trust my decision meets with your approval.”
“Meets with my approval?” This time Rowan couldn’t hold back. Her voice rose as she went on, until she was almost shouting.
“The cyborgs acting as first mate and navigational officer have been destroyed. Our original destination no longer exists, obliterated over a half century ago by a nameless enemy force. We’re so far from home that by now, everyone we know and love is likely dead. If they’re not, they’ve already mourned our passing since we haven’t made contact with them in—what? A hundred years or so? Now I have to wake up my passengers and give them the news. And, oh yeah, by the way, we’re currently being dragged to some unknown destination by a spacecraft full of aliens. Hell, yes, Siri. What’s not to approve?”
Chapter Two
By the time the lid to the slumberpod had fully retracted, Maia was in position. She stood in front of the pod, slightly to one side, with her hands folded in front of her, so her entire body would be visible at once. In her flowing green dress, she wasn’t concerned about blending into the wall the way Rowan did. She wanted the first thing the occupant saw as she opened her eyes to be a calm smile on the face of a familiar figure.
“Greetings, Sherzade. Welcome back.”
The almond-shaped eyes fluttered, then fixed on hers. Maia opened herself, felt lethargy and vague confusion. “Take a moment to orient yourself,” she said gently.
“Is it over? Are we on Tyrendia 3?”
“Commander Burnett is verifying our location right now. She’ll be here soon to bring us all u
p to speed.”
Stepping out of the slumberpod, Sherzade yawned and ran her fingers through the short silver-white hair spiking straight up all over her head. Her trademark, the synthetic crystals imbedded in her tunic, immediately began glowing in every shade of blue, from deep indigo to the pale cerulean of the Feather Cloud Nebula. Fitting, considering her position as Social Illuminatrix.
The Federation had never appointed an SI to a mission before. But then, this was no ordinary interplanetary delegation. Like Maia, every other woman in the group had been chosen for her unique area of expertise. Some had highly specialized skills. Others were born with gifts they honed over time, like her own abilities as an empath and Healer. Qui Jin Chang, Earth’s newly elected prime minister, was a progressive. He believed in fostering intergalactic peace by forging ties based on mutual respect and understanding, rather than relying solely on wielding military force. As Social Illuminatrix, Sherzade would gather data on the interpersonal and societal interactions of the Tyrendians, searching for common ground with Earthers.
Back home, Sherzade’s weekly broadcasts made her a rock star. Her holographic form appeared in nearly every home on the planet. Sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, her chronicles brought to life the joys and struggles of people from every corner of the globe. Finding the threads that bind all humans together. She touched lives and hearts with her stories, and Chang hoped she could shed light on ways to create a lasting diplomatic alliance between two very different worlds.
The pod at the far end of the bay slid open and both women headed for it at once. The occupant, Ellen Davis, was as different from Maia and Sherzade as anyone could be and still share the same gender classification. Unlike Maia’s soft flowing gown and Sherzade’s eye-catching garb, Ellen chose to dress in comfortable but drab beige jumpsuits. A brilliant scientist, she had a lightning-quick analytical mind. Choices in outer appearance were a trivial matter to her, hardly worth her time. She wore her dark hair short and the lack of any makeup made her large blue eyes stand out even more in her slender face.
Claimed by the Omega_A Sci-Fi Alien Romance Page 2