by Gun Brooke
Protector of the Realm
With the fate of entire civilizations at risk, the galactic battleground makes for unusual alliances and unexpected passions as two women from very different worlds join forces. When Commodore Rae Jacelon of the Gamma VI space station apprehends the alluring but decidedly dangerous Kellen O'Dal, it is the start of a breathtaking love story, as well as a dangerous rescue mission. A space adventure filled with suspense and a daring intergalactic romance.
CHAPTER ONE
Rae Jacelon felt the frigate Ixis reel as a new blast from the smaller spacecraft's torpedoes hit it, making her and all the officers on her bridge hold on to their computer consoles so they wouldn't lose their balance.
"Open comm channels! Unidentified space vessel, this is Commodore Rae Jacelon of the Gamma VI Space Station. By not responding to hails by an SC Fleet spacecraft and committing an act of blatant aggression, you are in clear violation of our space."
"So you claim," a woman replied in Premoni, the intergalactic language of the Supreme Constellations sector. She sounded unimpressed. Her low alto voice revealed a faint accent, a soft slur of consonants that suggested she hadn't learned the language within the SC.
"Take out their weapons array and propulsion system!" Rae seized the bar next to the captain's chair to keep her balance when the alien vessel fired a new round.
"Shields down to seventy percent, ma'am." The honey-skinned ensign at tactical clenched one hand around her console and punched in new commands with the other. "Firing torpedoes one and two now!" The space between them and the alien ship lit up.
"Report!" Rae ordered.
"Their weapons are down. The vessel's dead in the water, ma'am."
"Reestablish comm channels." Rae rose from her seat in the center of the bridge and tugged at her short black leather jacket, its tall collar adorned with rank insignia. She kept her anger in control as she spoke.
"Unidentified vessel, examine your computer readings and look at the identification seal on our transfers. It confirms our identity and our capabilities. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."
"We have video, Commodore," the ops ensign reported.
The large screen on the far wall of the bridge flickered, and a woman's face came partially into view. "This is the private vessel Kithanya. We have no intention of surrendering. Our shields are fully operational..."
Rae bristled and felt like kicking the wall with her tall black boot. She had suffered through an endless series of boring negotiations for the past two weeks and was in no mood to be diplomatic. If this woman was foolish enough to acquire outlaw status by firing her ship's full array of weapons after being hailed, she would be sorry.
Impatient, she smoothed down her short red hair and said, "Yes, but you cannot win. Nothing in your arsenal can prevent me from tractoring you in. You are not above the law."
"We have broken no laws." The woman's tone was dismissive, almost disdainful.
Seething at this unexpected insolence, Rae replied brusquely, "As a matter of fact, I can think of several. This is your last chance. Lower your shields."
"No."
"Congratulations. You've won a free trip to the Gamma VI Space Station. Enjoy the ride." Rae bent down, straightened the knife-sharp crease in her blue trousers, and gave the next order to her tactical officer. "Reel them in. Let's go home."
"You and the boy in your care, Armeo M'Aido, will remain in custody until—"
Rae broke off as a transparent blue teardrop ran down Kellen O'Dal's cheek. So the blue tears really existed. She had heard of them, but never seen them firsthand. Crystal clear, reflecting the light in her office, the solitary tear left a damp trail on her prisoner's face.
"I understand if you are upset, Ms. O'Dal, but—"
"I am not upset," Kellen O'Dal hissed. "Do not mistake my tears for signs of fear. I am furious!"
A security guard moved closer, but Rae motioned him back to his post by the door. She stared at the tall, proud Gantharian woman who stood before her in her office aboard Gamma VI. The expression in her prisoner's brilliant blue eyes was impossible to read. Rae had never seen anyone go from volatile to complete blankness so quickly. It was like putting a lid on a volcano. And although she knew this woman was physically stronger than she was—in fact, stronger than any human, due to a denser, more tractile muscle tissue—she merely shrugged and circled her desk. She had stared down taller, more physically imposing individuals than Kellen O'Dal.
"I was trying to be civil," Rae said forcefully. "The boy is in custody, awaiting his relative. You are a prisoner, waiting to stand trial for kidnapping."
Kellen apparently tried to stay calm by clasping her hands behind her back and standing at strict attention. She breathed deeply and with obvious forced consistency. "I am not a kidnapper. His parents are dead, and his mother entrusted him into my care. He has lived under my protection his entire life, and I have raised him since he was five, when his mother was killed."
"The Gantharian ambassador sent files less than an hour ago, stating you've kept the boy from his father's relatives for seven years. It's your word against that of a diplomat." Rae folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the corner of her desk. She was curious to hear the other side of this story, having detected arrogance and a hint of threat in the ambassador's messages.
"Commodore, you cannot trust Ambassador M'Ekar's version of the facts. He is not from Gantharat. He's an Onotharian." Kellen spat the last word as if it tasted foul.
Rae scrutinized the impressive woman once more. Gantharians were blue-blooded in the truest sense of the word. Their blue-colored blood cells shimmered just beneath the skin, and the unusual tint enhanced the woman's statuesque appearance. According to her file, Kellen was thirty-two Earth years old, young for her race. Their life span was about thirty years longer than that of humans. A striking woman, she wore her blond hair in a long, severe braid down her back. A tight black leather suit accentuated her lean body.
Rae thought she detected a faint tremor in Kellen's hands and wondered what caused it. Was it more of her impressive anger? Or is she afraid, or perhaps in pain? "Do you have proof of what you say?" she inquired.
"Only her last words! When she was dying, she asked me to raise Armeo, and until a few lunar cycles ago, nobody cared either way. I won't give him up."
The defiant retort seemed to mask other, underlying emotions. Rae rubbed her neck, where an all-too-familiar tension reminded her of countless negotiations with Onotharians wanting to cross the border into the SC. Situations like this one were always stressful. "Take a seat." She pointed at one of the alu-carbon visitors' chairs.
Kellen looked as if she was about to refuse, but relented and sat down, flinching as she extended her left leg in front of her.
"Are you injured?" Rae asked.
"I'm fine."
"Very well. As you know, I've spoken with the boy. He's obviously very fond of you and would be upset if you were apart. That's why I haven't confined you to the brig without him. Yet. Fact remains, by firing on my frigate and refusing to obey direct orders, you violated at least a dozen Supreme Constellations laws."
"You were approaching me head-on. I had no way of knowing your intent."
"We identified ourselves as an SC spacecraft."
"You are not the first to present yourselves as representatives of the SC. I have come across several convoys of pirates with the exact same method of operation."
Rae knew this was probably true. The Gamma outposts were eternally trying to stamp out the pesky space pirates who infested intergalactic space and made it dangerous for traders and other small spacecraft. "My people are searching your vessel right now. They'll find any such incidents on record in t
he ship's computer log, if they exist."
"They will be there." Again, an expression of anguish flickered over Kellen's face.
Rae scanned the lean body before her for clues as to where the pain originated. She could see no outward signs, but she wasn't going to take any chances. "Before we commit you to your quarters, I'll send you and young Armeo through sick bay."
"Your scans will come out negative. We carry no disease."
"Perhaps, and our biological filter should've picked up any foreign agents already. However, we're many light-years from the nearest medical facility. We can't take any chances. Besides, someone needs to look at your leg."
Kellen rose without permission, glaring at her. "Have your doctors scan us, then. They can't be any worse than the bunglers the Onotharians allow to practice medicine on Gantharat."
Acidic, aren't we? Rae nodded toward the guard. "Escort Ms. O'Dal to Dr. Meyer. Pick up the boy on the way."
"Yes, ma'am."
As she returned to her chair, Rae watched the proud woman leave. Her stoic appearance and the arrogance that bordered on hauteur were hardly the demeanor one would expect of a prisoner. And she showed no signs of gratitude for her decent treatment at Rae's hands. Puzzled, and somewhat concerned at the thought that Kellen O'Dal could be injured, Rae returned her focus to her work. She had no plans to allow her captive to prey on her mind; she had more important things to think about.
Kellen gazed around sick bay, waiting for the chief medical officer to join her and Armeo where they sat next to each other on an elaborate-looking examination table. Two guards armed with laser-pulse rifles stood by the door.
"What's going to happen now?" Armeo sounded more curious than afraid.
"A doctor will make sure we're healthy and all right. It won't hurt."
Armeo looked at her with an expression of disdain that reminded Kellen of his mother. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"It's natural to fear the unknown." Kellen smiled fondly and let her gaze soften. "We don't know these people, but they won't harm you."
"The commodore interrogated you," Armeo pointed out.
"Yes, but she didn't hurt me." Kellen knew Armeo was worried by the rumors he'd heard about interrogations in the Gantharat System. "We only spoke together."
He scooted closer. "Honestly?" His dark blue eyes, framed by straight, black eyebrows, probed hers.
Armeo's face was thin below a shock of dark brown hair. Like his mother's, his features were finely chiseled, and he also carried the Gantharian blue-blood cells, making his dark eyes blackish blue. Despite this coloring, his skin possessed a clear olive tint that was inherited from his father, as were his broad shoulders and lithe body. He was lanky and tall for his twelve years, reaching almost to Kellen's shoulder.
Knowing he was also emotionally mature for his age, Kellen took his question seriously. "Honestly," she insisted. "The commodore only asked me questions."
The woman in command of this space station was unlike anyone Kellen had ever met. At first glance her form was unremarkable despite the flaming dark red hair, which seemed to be unusual for a human. She was shorter than Kellen, her eyes at the level of Kellen's lips.
She was also immaculate and had dealt with Kellen by the book, so she obviously valued correctness and order. Even the way she spoke— her pronunciation clear, each word distinct—suggested the commodore was meticulous.
However, Kellen sensed Jacelon was not an ordinary minion of the SC. She guessed her age to be around forty human years, which, she surmised, was fairly young for someone to achieve such a high rank. The woman's blue-gray eyes, piercing and relentless, never wavered. They kept looking at me, as if they could sum up my strengths and weaknesses by simple subtraction. Perhaps a worthy adversary in this mass of human weaklings.
The door hissed open, and a petite, wiry woman with short black hair stepped inside. Wearing a different version of a Supreme Constellations uniform, a light blue retrospun cotton shirt with the standard blue trousers, she strode up to Kellen and Armeo and gave them a brisk nod.
"I'm Dr. Meyer, CMO aboard Gamma VI. Call me Gemma. I hate titles."
Taken aback by the surprising request, Kellen exchanged glances with Armeo, noticing the curious look in the boy's eyes and hoping he wasn't afraid of this new experience. The few times she had been forced to take him to one of the clinics on Gantharat, he had been traumatized for days afterward. Now Kellen was relieved to see him meet the CMO's eyes without hesitation.
"I'm Armeo," he said, extending a hand in the human way of greeting. "How do you do?"
Gemma, about to reach for a handheld computer, turned around and shook his hand. "I'm fine, thank you. Why don't we start with you, Armeo? I want to make sure you didn't bring any germs we weren't prepared for. Also, you were in the middle of quite a scuffle in space, I hear. Were you hurt?"
"No, ma'am... eh, Gemma. I was strapped into my seat. Kellen's orders."
"Good." Gemma took a scanning device from a tray. "Now, let's see. Hmm, I detect scarring around your clavicle. I'd say you've been injured in the last year or so."
Armeo blushed faintly and cast an embarrassed glance toward Kellen. "Yeah, and it was all my fault. Kellen told me to wait for her when I wanted to go riding on her new maesha. I didn't listen to her. He threw me off and I landed on my shoulder."
"What's a maesha?"
"What you would call a horse," Kellen replied. "Only much bigger."
Gemma shot her a look. "Armeo's clavicle hasn't healed properly. Why didn't you take him to a physician?"
"We have no physicians working with this kind of technology on Gantharat. And if they did exist, they would not be accessible to Gantharians. We have what you could call doctors, but no bone-knitters or derma fusers. Since I refused to have these idiots carve on him, it had to heal the old-fashioned way."
"Didn't you at least wear a sling, Armeo?"
He squirmed, the picture of guilt. "Yes... sometimes."
Kellen raised her hand, ruffling the hair at the back of his head. "Sometimes, as in rarely, Armeo?" She felt her muscles relax marginally when he wrinkled his nose at her, looking so familiar in this stark alien setting.
Gemma shook her head and smiled. "Kids. You probably had to nag him about the sling the few times he actually wore it."
She's trying to act friendly, but I certainly don't trust her. They were in the hands of people working for the woman she'd fired her torpedoes at. She mustn't forget that. Their loyalties lay with Commodore Jacelon and the SC, not with a fugitive accused of kidnapping.
Kellen decided acting as if everything were normal in front of Armeo, making him feel safe, would help their case in several ways. If the Gamma VI commodore learned from her crew how wonderful Armeo was, Jacelon might be more lenient when she made her decision about Kellen's fate. "Yes," she replied, keeping her voice even. "He's very active and didn't want to wear bandages."
"I guess you're going to stay with us for a while. I can easily repair this if you want." Gemma scanned the rest of his body. "Apart from the injury, you're in great shape." She punched a few new commands into the handheld computer, then turned to Kellen. "All right. Any injuries or illnesses I should know about?"
"No." Wordlessly, she tried to communicate with Gemma by gesturing in the boy's direction.
The doctor nodded. "Listen, Armeo, why don't you go over there, to the main computer. I bet Ensign Dario can show you an interesting game while I finish." She motioned for one of the guards to accompany the boy and, turning her attention back to Kellen, said, "Go on."
"Thank you. It's nothing, but I don't want to worry him."
"I understand." Gemma ran the scanning device across Kellen's body. Reaching her left leg, she stopped, circling it over an area on Kellen's thigh. "Remove your uniform. I'm detecting bacteria in what appears to be an open wound."
"It isn't necessary. I've bandaged it myself."
"It's infected, and I have no way of knowing how bad it is without a visua
l inspection."
"Very well." Kellen straightened her back. "Could I have some privacy, please?"
"Of course." The doctor tugged at a curtain, partly obscuring the other guard's vision. "He can still see us, so don't try to fool me, Ms. O'Dal."
"I'm not."
Standing up, Kellen unfastened her leather suit and peeled it off her shoulders and down across her hips. She couldn't help but moan when it slid over the injury in her left thigh. She sat on the gurney, biting her lower lip to keep from whimpering when Gemma carefully peeled off the makeshift bandage.
"God," the physician murmured. "And you call this nothing? What the hell caused it?"
"Ambassador M'Ekar's way of dealing with me." Kellen ground her teeth at the searing pain.
"This isn't new. When did it happen?"
"When we left Gantharat twenty-two days ago."
Gemma scanned the infected area of the five-inch-long wound. "It needs treatment. How could you let it become so bad?"
"I tried to keep it clean, but we have a limited supply of medications aboard the Kithanya."
Gemma reached for an injection device. "This is for the pain and is also an anti-inflammatory. Further scans will determine which bacteria are causing this mess, and we'll give you an intravenous infusion of the right medication to help you heal and make it possible for me to close the wound later." She pressed the imbulizer against Kellen's upper arm. "I can't believe you tried to clean this yourself. Without the right pain relief, it must have hurt like hell."
"What, exactly, must've hurt?" a husky voice said from behind the screen.
"Commodore, come in and take a look at this." Gemma took a step back.
Kellen did her best to conceal her annoyance when the woman in charge of the space station rounded the screen to join them. She was reluctant to show any sign of weakness, even if it was merely a wounded leg.
Commodore Jacelon looked at the wound on Kellen's leg with a puzzling expression on her face. Kellen recognized anger mixed with something close to remorse, and she wondered why she would look at a perfect stranger with so much feeling. Perhaps she doesn't realize how visible her emotions are to me?