"Thank you, Sir," Cree stated.
"I take it you suffered no ill effects from your recent disciplinary sojourn?"
Cree's attention shifted from a point just above the Admiral's head to the man's dark gaze. "No, Sir," he replied. "Thank you, Sir." His gaze lifted once more to that obscure point in the distance.
"The solar storm wrecking havoc over Hell-12 was a lucky break for you, don't you agree?"
Cree's right check jumped in what often passed for a smile for him. "Aye, Sir."
The Admiral picked up a ceremonial dagger from his desktop and began tapping its blade on the desk's surface. "What exactly did you want to see me about, Kamerone?"
Cree cleared his throat. "I came in to make a request, Sir. One I hope you will look upon with favor."
Draw lifted one thick white brow. "And that is?"
There was a fraction of a second's hesitation before the Reaper blurted out: "I wish to take a live-in companion, Sir."
The Admiral nodded, continued to tap the dagger blade on the desktop. "You wish to have Lieutenant Lona move in with you?"
Cree's brows drew together sharply in confusion. "Lona, Sir?" he asked, caught off guard by the question. He risked a look at the Admiral and when he saw the man was frowning, he looked away.
"It is no secret that you and your 2/IC are close," the Admiral put forth. "The Empire is aware you have been very circumspect in your dealings with the young man. I do not believe any untoward charges of fraternization could be leveled against you, but if you have decided you wish to exercise living privileges with him, I have no objection as long as you remain discreet."
Cree flinched, automatically lowering his gaze to his biological father and keeping it there. "Sir," he stressed, finding his voice. "While I have, indeed, a measure of respect for the Lieutenant, I have no desire to have him move in with me." The very thought of such a thing was distasteful to Cree though he knew a few of the Reaper caste— not all that fond of the opposite sex— were more apt to seek out their own kind for companionship. He shuddered at the thought, color creeping into his cheeks. "Sir, I do not lean in that direction."
The Admiral's lips twitched. "No offense was intended, Captain."
"None taken, Sir," Cree was quick to answer.
"So, then," the admiral said, tossing the dagger onto his desk. "It is a female you are here to request."
"Aye, Sir," Cree acknowledged.
"I do not believe this has ever come up before now," the Admiral stated, drawing Cree's uneasy attention once more. "You realize, of course, that such a request is highly unusual?"
"Aye, Sir," Cree said. His stomach felt as though maggots were crawling around inside it and he was beginning to wish himself as far away from this office as time and space would allow.
"And that female live-in companions are discouraged among the Retrieval Units?"
"Aye, Sir." Cree's voice was dull, lifeless.
"This female is a Terran?"
Cree nodded then mentally kicked himself for his momentary lack of respect. "Aye, Sir."
Admiral Cree tapped his right index finger along his nose. "One of your therapists, I take it," he asked for clarification. He swiveled in his chair and pulled the keyboard of his computer toward him.
"She was, Sir." Cree's uneasy eyes followed the Admiral's fingers as they began to type something into the computer. When the Admiral glanced up at him, Cree quickly returned his attention to that point above Drae Cree's head.
"Her name?" the Admiral inquired, his fingers flying across the keys.
Once more those demon dark orbs lowered to the Admiral with confusion. "Dunne, Sir. Dr. Bridget Dunne."
"Excellent choice, Kamerone," the Admiral stated. "She's quite lovely, isn't she?"
"Excuse me, Sir?" Cree asked, more confused than ever. He stared into the Admiral's lined face as the man lifted his head and looked at him.
"Bridget?" the Admiral stressed the name. "She is very lovely. I met her after your last therapy sessions, which, by the way, appeared to distress her deeply. I believe I saw tears in her eyes when she turned away." He pressed one last key then leaned back in his chair. "I wouldn't mind having her as my own companion if I didn't already have Dr. Dean. Of course, men in my position may have more than one consort, but who needs the aggravation, eh?"
Cree's jaw clenched and a muscle jumped in his left cheek. He didn't know how to answer that question so he remained silent.
"Although I am not inclined to agree with the Ministry of Defense mandates concerning a man's sexual needs..."
"I have no intention of having sex with her!" Cree blurted out, wincing as the Admiral raised one thick white brow at his outburst. "What I meant to say, Sir, was..."
Admiral Cree cut him off. "Why would you want such a lovely woman as a live-in companion if you do not wish to have sex with her, Captain?"
Cree looked as if he was about to throw up. His face was a most unbecoming shade of red. "Sir," he said, having to clear his throat to get the words out, "I need a housekeeper."
The Admiral stared at him. "A housekeeper?"
"Aye," Cree said on a long sigh. "Someone to clean my quarters, prepare meals." He flung his hand out. "That sort of thing."
"A housekeeper," the Admiral stated flatly, his voice devoid of inflection.
"Aye, Sir," Cree agreed.
The Reaper's smile of relief at having stated his intent almost shocked the Admiral, who had not been expecting it. "I see," he said, unnerved by that unholy smile. "In that case, Kamerone, I see no reason why you shouldn't have what you want." He leaned over his keyboard once more. "I will grant your request."
Cree had to stop himself from shouting with glee. He bit his tongue to keep from breaking into another ridiculous smile he knew made him look more evil than happy.
"Do you know just how much her acquisition will cost you?" the Admiral asked, not looking up at the Reaper.
Cree shook his head. "No, Sir, but whatever it is, I will pay it."
Yes, the Admiral thought, as he typed in an amount on the line that asked for purchase price, I know you will. Drae's lips stretched into a faint grimace as he plucked the page from the printer and laid it on his desk. He picked up a pen to sign his name, but stopped. He looked up. "Who will look after her while you are away, Captain?"
Cree's brows drew together again, but this time with thought. He cocked his head to one side, considering for a moment, then his face tightened. "I will have to consider that further, Sir." He locked eyes with the Admiral. "Will that present a problem?"
Drae shook his head. "I should think not. If I were you, I'd simply keep her in my quarters until my return." He arched a brow at his subordinate. "That way, she can't run around getting into mischief, now, can she?"
What kind of mischief? "No, Sir. Thank you for your advice, Sir."
"Any time," the Admiral muttered. He scrawled his signature at the bottom of the request form, folded the paper, then slipped it into an envelope and sealed it. He extended the envelope toward the Reaper. "Present this at Requisitions then have Lona take the purchase price to the Bursar's office." He sat back in his chair, pressed his fingertips together and smiled. "No need for you to have to make a trip way over to Finance for something like this. They can simply transfer the necessary credits from your account to the Ministry of Science."
Cree glanced down at the envelope, a little distrustful of the ease with which he had accomplished his acquisition of Bridget Dunne. He looked up at the Admiral's blank face. "That's all there is to it?"
"What more do you want?" the Admiral asked. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. "You are a Reaper, Kamerone." The right side of his mouth lifted in a quirk. "And the offspring of a very important man. Your requests should not be delayed nor challenged if they hold merit. Should they?"
Cree drew in a long breath. Never had anyone admitted within his hearing his connection to the man seated across from him. He had known, of course, who had donated the seed for
his conception, but had never dared boast of it. He was more than aware of the strong resemblance between them, a resemblance he found he both resented, and inexplicably, took pride in. Although they had never met face to face before today, he had often caught himself searching for the man's face in a crowd, watching for him, wishing for something to which he could not put a name. Staring at the man's slicked-back white hair, he wondered if his own thick hair would turn such a becoming shade of silver when he, himself, was in his late fifties.
"Well?" Admiral Cree repeated. "Should they?"
Cree had to shake himself to get rid of the thoughts tumbling around inside his head. "I suppose not, Sir," he replied.
"You should know not," the Admiral said. "You, above any of your kind, should be given whatever you desire. Nothing should stand in the way of you getting what you want, when you want it. Do not let the petty jealousies of your inferiors keep you from obtaining anything you set your mind to, Kamerone." He slapped his hands lightly on the tops of his desk then pushed himself up from his chair. "Unless you another request, you may go."
Before anything could happen to alter or disrupt what had just transpired, Cree threw his hand up and saluted. "No, Sir. Thank you, Sir!" he snapped. Pivoting, he spun around and marched to the door, barely breaking stride as the portal shushed open.
Drae Cree bent over and pressed a button on his Vid-Com. As Dr. Dean's face came into view on the monitor, the Admiral smiled at her. "My son is on his way to Requisitions, Madame Director," he told her. "He has the request chit in hand."
The Director smiled a sigh of relief. "Thank you for letting me know, Admiral," she said, her image fading to black as she disengaged the Vid-Com connection from her end of the link.
Sitting down in his chair again, the Admiral exhaled a long, cleansing breath. The trap had been set in the therapy unit of the Be-Mod 9 Unit and now the jaws had sprung shut. Only time would tell if they had caught their prey in its inescapable maw.
DREWE FELL into step with his Captain as Cree headed for the office of Requisitions. "There is something I think you should know," said Lona.
"It can wait," Cree growled as he tapped the envelope with his permission to purchase Bridget Dunne against the palm of his left hand.
"No, Sir, I do not think it can," Drewe disagreed and stumbled to a stop as the Reaper came up short.
"All right," Cree sighed. "What is so gods-be-damned important that you had to come looking for me, Drewe?"
Both embarrassment and apology— laced with a hint of worry— passed over Lona's face. "You are not going to like it."
Cree suspected he wouldn't. "Just tell me," he breathed in exasperation.
"It's about the female. Dunne," Drewe answered and watched as immediate suspicion clouded his Captain's hard face.
"Well?" Cree thundered, annoyed that his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. "What of her?"
The Lieutenant sucked in a breath and spoke on an explosion of sound before he could lose his nerve.
"You aren't the only one who has put in a Requisition chit for her." Sensing the fury he thought was going to erupt, he took a step back, but the quiet inquiry that met his words baffled him.
"Who else?" Cree asked in an unnaturally soft voice that was as alien to the man as was the look of uncertainty that had been there earlier that morning.
"Commander Konnor Rhye," Drewe answered. "He's one of the Keepers on Captain Symthian Kullen's— "
"I know Kullen's crew roster," Cree cut him off. "And I am aware of Rhye." A smug smile lifted the right corner of Cree's mouth. "But it doesn't matter." He resumed his swagger down the long corridor.
"It doesn't?"
Cree shook his head. "Nope."
"May I ask why not?"
Cree's evil grin grew wider. "I outrank him and someone reminded me just this morning that I should not let my inferiors keep me from having what I want."
Drewe hurried to catch up with him. "Commander Rhye has been saving for over four years to purchase the Terran female, Sir," he said, having to increase his pace to keep up with Cree. "He's been courting her and— "
Cree stopped, putting out a hand to halt Drew, as well. Slowly, he turned his head and stared hard at his second in command. One thick, dark brown brow quirked upward. "He's been doing what?" he asked in a cold tone.
Drewe coughed. He stepped back from the look that had formed on the Reaper's lean face. "He is courting her. Courting means— "
"I know what the hell it means! Explain in what context you suggest he is `courting' her?"
Drewe hurried with his explanation. "I was told he plans on Joining with her at the end of this month." Drewe did not like the thunderclouds that were building across the plains of Cree's countenance; sparks of dangerous lightning leapt in the dark expanse of his demon's eyes.
"Joining with her?" Cree's voice was deceptively polite. "Joining as in taking her to wife?" Drewe nodded, alarmed at the frigid wind that had suddenly sprung up in the storm-ready voice of his Captain.
"How is that possible?"
"She is a Class Five female. I was told Class Fives are automatically excused from having to serve in the Breeding Units because of their usefulness in the science departments. As for the Keeper, his caste is encouraged to take live-in companions; it keeps them happier. Some have actually Joined with their companions and have started families. Our High Priests have found nothing objectionable in regard to this particular Joining and have deemed the woman fit to breed. Since the Behavioral Mod Unit agreed to her Bride Price..."
"What about him?" Cree snarled, loathing the notion of Bridget breeding offspring. He shuddered. "Does he want her simply to bear his...his..." He flung out his hand in disgust. "...his get?"
"From all accounts, he cares very deeply for her. They've been seeing one another for four years now and I am told they are lovers."
"Lovers?" the single word was a mere breath of sound. "As in he has sexual relations with her?"
"Aye," Drewe acknowledged with a red face. He wanted to ask what Cree thought the two of them did together.
Cree stood there, staring at Drewe, assimilating the information his 2/IC had given him. He tapped the envelope against his thigh, then looked down at it. For a long moment, he simply studied the buff colored paper then the thunderclouds began to disperse from his face. The lightning faded from his stare.
"It doesn't matter," he said, grinning evilly. He pushed Drewe aside.
"It doesn't?" Drewe repeated, nearly running to catch up.
CREE WASN'T surprised to see Konnor Rhye standing at the Bursar's desk when he entered the Office of Requisitions. He had made Drewe stay outside. He nodded in acknowledgment of the Commander's nod of respect before the Keeper moved out of Cree's way. Cree handed his Requisition chit to the man behind the counter.
Konnor Rhye glanced uneasily at the Reaper standing beside him. Despite being on a friendly enough basis with his own Reaper, Captain Kullen, Rhye found himself tense, on edge, in the presence of Rysalia's Prime Reaper.
Scanning the form before him, the Bursar drew in a harsh breath. He looked at the Commander, glanced nervously at Cree, then returned his troubled attention to the form, hoping against hope that he had either read the chit wrong or it had changed since he had last looked at it.
"I understand the Mistral brought back forty females on her last trip to Terra," Cree said. He put his forearms on the counter top and leaned against it. He turned his head to look at Rhye. "That's very impressive. My compliments to your team."
Rhye smiled nervously. You never spoke to a Reaper unless he spoke to you first. To have Kamerone Cree open a conversation was thrilling, if not a tad uncomfortable.
"Thank you, Sir," Rhye said. "I will give Captain Kullen your regards."
"When do you go again?" Cree asked. He was ignoring the Bursar who was trying to gain his attention.
Rhye didn't notice the coldness in his inquisitor's eyes or the lack of warmth in his polite query. He was eager
to impress the man, wanted to be able to tell his shipmates that he had conversed with the Prime Reaper, himself.
"We leave at the end of next week, Sir." He stood up a bit straighter. "We are going to Ionary for a shipment of domestic females."
A twinkle entered Cree's brown eyes. "That's what I am here for today." He looked away from the Commander and settled his sharp gaze on the Bursar. "I take it everything is in order?"
The Bursar swallowed hard. "Sir, I think there's been a mistake."
Cree's brow lifted. "How so?"
"This is a live-in companion chit, Sir," the Bursar replied in a choked voice. His gaze pleaded with Cree to tell him there had been a mistake. Not only with the classification of the female requested, but the identity of her, as well.
"Aye, I know that."
"Then perhaps there was a mix up in the names?" the Bursar asked hopefully. When the Reaper's fierce gaze remained steady, vengeful, the Bursar swung an apologetic gaze to the Commander.
Rhye felt a wiggle of worry slither down his spine at the look the Bursar gave him.
"No mistake has been made," Cree stated. He turned his head and stared right at Rhye. "I came here personally to handle the matter since the female in question now belongs to me."
Konnor Rhye looked into those demon eyes and knew. "Who is the lady you have come to buy, Sir?"
The Bursar moved back from the counter. The Keeper knew better than to question Kamerone Cree!
"Do I know her, Captain?" Rhye insisted, feeling his insides tearing.
Cree smirked at Rhye and turned his attention to the Bursar. "I asked you if everything was in order?"
"Ah, Captain Cree," the Bursar whined, feeling the hard, piercing cold of those dark orbs impaling him, "this particular female has already been purchased. She's..."
"Then, un-purchase her," Cree said pleasantly.
The Bursar whimpered. He cast Rhye one last look and took up the Keeper's chit and ripped it down the middle.
"No," Rhye whispered. "I bought her! We are to be Joined."
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