The Commander's Slave

by K S Augustin

  Perhaps if she could have put him in a convenient little box--expert lover but ultimately just an exploiter of women--she would be much happier. But the Tangus of the boudoir was rounded out by Tangus the leader, Tangus the sensitive, and she was lost.

  Here was a man worth centuries of searching. Hard, yes, capable of ruthlessness, but also of deep emotion and firm purpose. Dare she hope that they had some kind of future together?

  She nibbled her bottom lip while she followed that theory to its end.

  Surely the fact that he had even bought her in the first place indicated that he was attracted to her? And their intimate encounters since that time reinforced the view.

  And why would he invite her on a tour of the ship and supply her with clothes if there wasn’t a trace of feeling budding within him, as well? Despite her amnesia she was not naïve enough to think that he had felt anything for her when he first bid those fifty quatroons, but surely she couldn’t be mistaken about his growing gentleness and consideration towards her? On the bridge he had appeared possessive in the face of Daurent’s cheerful gallantry, a reaction that both puzzled and warmed her. Maybe that proved that he wasn’t immune to her.

  As for her amnesia, maybe that, too, wasn’t such an obstacle after all. Of course there was the possibility that she was nobility of some sort, part of a ruling family, an important player in the politics of her planet, but statistically, she had to admit that was highly unlikely. It was more probable that she was a scientist or someone’s assistant or even just a crewmember on the ship that had crashed.

  In the daze of the wreck and the grief at not finding anybody else alive amid the hot corkscrewed panels of metal, she had not taken much notice of her clothing ... her uniform? She had still not recovered fully when the group of Helson natives had found her, stripped her, and bundled her into more restrictive clothing, discarding hers by the wreck and forcing her on the four-day march to Hell’s Market. So now, there was no trace of her former life, either physical or mental.

  Still, she thought with amusement, there weren’t many adult women who came without some kind of emotional baggage, usually the result of bad past experiences. And if she had no bad experiences to remember, then she came with little baggage. Simple!

  One problem out of the way, she decided with determination. But onto the next, more difficult one. How was she to convince Tangus that she herself desired something more than the heated magic they shared in the dark chamber together? That she was an intelligent woman who would go crazy constantly locked in the confines of a pleasure chamber and that she valued his conversation and consideration as much as his sexual prowess?

  Maybe a good place to start would be to show that she was not immune to his touch. That she was willing to fully participate in their lustful encounters.

  Maybe it would show him something if she was prepared to initiate their next encounter?

  A wicked smile spread slowly across Asha’s face.

  * * * *

  Damn Daurent and his come-hither eyes, Tangus thought in fury as he stalked into his quarters. Who did he think he was, staring at Asha so lasciviously? He was entranced by her body, the grace with which she walked, her regal, sculpted features.

  But what did his first officer know of the real Asha? The firebrand who cried out her passion with such abandon, the ... the ....

  Tangus abandoned his search for an object to hurl at the wall and collapsed at his desk chair.

  If truth be known, he didn’t know much more about the captive himself. Even her name was manufactured. He didn’t know where she was from, where she was going, or how she had ended up on Helson V. In fact, he could only be sure of two things: one, she had been a virgin the first time he mounted her, and two, she was the only woman he had ever known who could drive him to ecstasy with not much more than a look.

  Three things.

  There were hints of course. The quiet while he related a quick history of the Seti’s last, calamitous, conflict suggested patience and reserve. And he certainly couldn’t deny her passion, he thought with a quirk of his lips.

  The way….

  Under other circumstances, he would be honored to be noticed by a female as magnificent as Asha. There were always difficulties with cross-species courtships, but nothing he was sure he couldn’t handle. He had already established they were physically compatible and wasn’t that the greatest hurdle?

  And what man didn’t think of leaving his legacy through future generations? He was sure she would make a strong, loving mother, fiercely defensive of her children but gently wanton with her mate.

  I feel….

  Tangus shut his eyes tightly against the visions intruding into his brain. No, he couldn’t keep thinking that way. Perhaps if the home world still existed, if he could still harbor some hope for the future, then he could afford to indulge himself. But he had to keep remembering that Asha was merely a means to an end. That was the reason he had purchased her. She was to be the first in a line of Fusion women who kept the Seti name alive, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by useless monopolistic fantasies. In fact ….

  He pressed the intercom button. “Daurent?”

  “Yes, commander?”

  “Let Doctor Zehnda know he has an upcoming appointment. Tell him to bring his xenogenetics sampling kit to my quarters tomorrow morning.”

  Tangus could hear Daurent’s questions in the hesitation that followed. “Yes, commander.”

  “Tangus out.”

  He exhaled and leaned back in his chair. Now, if he was thinking as clearly as he’d hoped, he’d grab a bite to eat himself, go over the latest tactical reports and get some sleep.

  ...about her....

  And there were still some elements of the classic Rheni Gambit he wanted to research, the weather conditions at the time and how that had played into the master strategy. Those were the good old days, he thought with a grim twist of his lips, before the advent of interplanetary war and massive vacuum-muted killing.

  In fact, there were many other things to concern himself with--future developments of their moon base, cheaper female acquisitions, crop grafting. So he was surprised to find control again taken out of his hands, after he opened the door to the adjoining chamber, and asked, “Would you like to see my quarters?”

  He stepped aside, breathing in her scent as she brushed past him.

  * * * *

  Tangus was suddenly full of unexpected surprises and Asha couldn’t refuse his latest offer. Would she like to see his quarters? And get an insight into this enigmatic man? Of course!

  What had she been expecting, she asked herself as she entered? Of course he was neat, although the scatter of book-rods on the desk indicated someone who followed several ideas simultaneously. And the space was well-appointed although sparser than she was expecting. No velvet anywhere, a wide but not extravagant bed. One wall was dominated by a large star chart display but there was nothing of any personal value. She saw no little mementos, no pictures of friends or family, just his unmistakable personal scent filling the room.

  “Disappointed?” he asked, coming up behind her.

  She turned, her lips quirking and she saw him narrow in on them, his dark eyes clouding into opacity. A jolt of power shot through her.

  “Certainly it’s not as sybaritic as I was expecting,” she half-whispered, licking her lips. As if mesmerized, he watched the moist tip of her tongue emerge, then retreat.

  Did she dare act on her impetuous plan? Did she have enough courage to finally take him to bed? Taking a breath, she lifted her hands, locking them behind his neck. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” Automatically, he moved to stroke her back, grazing her with his rough hands.

  “For the tour. For the clothes. For proving that you’re not such a callous brute after all.”

  “You’ll find,” he replied, kissing one side of her mouth, “that I am,” then the other side, “a very callous brute.”

  But she wasn’t listening. Ti
ghtening her hold, she pulled his mouth down on hers, opening her lips so he could taste her while coyly toying with his tongue at the same time.

  There was a moment when he hesitated, when she was afraid he would reject an advance that he had not initiated, before he tightened his grip. Swiftly, he captured her tongue in his mouth and sucked on it, the gentle pulling action starting a heat in her groin.

  “You don’t know what you do to me,” he grated against her ear when he drew back for breath. He kissed her earlobe, then followed it with another kiss to the side of her neck. “When you’re around, I stop thinking.”

  Asha arched her neck, gasping when he bit at the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder. With eyes closed, she reached for one of his hands, bringing it around from behind her back to grasp a burgeoning breast.

  Tangus didn’t need any more encouragement. Still kissing her neck, he slipped his hand under her tunic so he could stroke her bare breast and tug at a fast-hardening nipple.

  They kissed again, all hands and hot tongues, before Tangus picked her up and carried her to his bed. It creaked beneath their combined weight.

  “I would like to pleasure you,” Asha whispered. Quickly, before he could grab her, she got off the bed and began disrobing, pausing every little while to watch his reaction. A smile curved her lips when she saw his hardening penis strain against the material of his trousers.

  Her top discarded, Asha bent and stepped out of her pants then, still out of reach, she began running her hands up and over her breasts, plucking at her own nipples and moaning with pleasure.

  Tangus’ response was electric. He jackknifed into a sitting position, reaching for her, but she danced out of range.

  “Tell me what you want me to do ... master,” she teased.

  “Come here,” he growled.

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Perhaps you should take your shirt off while I ... touch myself.”

  Tangus’ eyes, already dark, blacked in an instant, glittering like volcanic glass, but he did as he was told. In front of him, tantalizingly out of reach, Asha sank to her knees and spread her thighs. Watching her lover, she licked her finger then trailed it down her body, between her breasts, leaving a glistening trail that he followed hungrily with his eyes.

  With deliberation, Asha continued her finger’s journey, through tight copper curls, and gasped as she inserted it into herself.

  That was too much for Tangus. No woman had ever behaved so provocatively in front of him before, displayed such wanton pleasure, and it was more than he could stand. He swooped down, grabbed her, and took her to his bed, ripping the rest of his clothes off in a frenzy before possessing her.

  “You’re a siren,” he told her hoarsely, his hands trembling as he stroked her hair. “There are legends about them on every planet. Beautiful women who coax you to your death.”

  Asha thrust her hips towards him, beginning an insistent rhythm.

  “No, not yet,” Tangus gasped, but it was too late. With a violent convulsion, he orgasmed, crying out into the air while she continued her merciless gyrations beneath him.

  When he was spent, he looked at her, his expression sheepish.

  “I don’t ….”

  She placed a fingertip against his lips. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Sleep. We can talk later.”

  It was only when his breathing had steadied and the first spasm of sleep tightened his hand against her that Asha said softly, “I love you.”

  Chapter Five

  Tangus awoke early, the comfort of his bed disturbed by a new sensation. He frowned, wriggling a trapped hand, before recollection crashed down on him. Startled, he opened his eyes to see a golden head nestled into the crook of his arm, long copper tresses fanned over his bare biceps.

  In the middle of the night, he had woken her and they had mated again. Despite the wordless communication, he recognized that this time it had been a meeting of equals, not of master and captive, and he cursed himself for a hundred types of fool for thinking he could make it anything else.

  His mind returned to the thought of finding her people. He had lost his own family in the Lasc Prein attack on the Seti home-world, but surely Asha must still have some. Was there a parent or relative searching the galaxy for her? And what were the chances of him finding them?

  Carefully, he eased himself away from her and rose, quirking his lips at the discarded clothing that lay around his quarters. Picking at them, he pulled on a shirt and trousers and made a brief trip to the bathroom. The smile stayed on his face until he found himself humming as he regarded his unshaven reflection, and he was brought back to reality with a slam.

  What was he thinking? He was Tangus Xalor, only remaining commander of the Seti Space Corps. He was the man responsible for the last remnant of the Seti. What was he doing losing himself in the eyes and body of a golden beauty?

  “Tangus?” The soft voice was a bit puzzled.

  He gave himself a long look before exiting.

  Asha was sitting up in bed. No false modesty here. She wasn’t holding a sheet against her naked breasts. Instead, she leaned nonchalantly on one arm, the sheets draped over her legs. Even without a single artistic bone in his body, Tangus had the urge to paint her just so he could always remember her like this.

  “I was wondering where you were,” she teased, her voice still husky with sleep. “Will you come back to bed?”

  And Tangus had several flashbacks. He remembered the time, as a young and stupid officer graduate, he had picked a fight with a pair of Toldah mercenaries adventuring far from home. He had come off second-best in that altercation, only the timely intervention of four other friends saving him from a thorough skewering.

  He remembered the tense stand-off with a ship from the Flow-Stick Cluster, a notorious smuggler species famous for their weaponry-heavy space runners and how he had bluffed his way into capturing them.

  He remembered his last desperate gambits as he extracted as many survivors as possible from the marauding Lasc Prein before he and his decimated fleet beat a hasty retreat.

  But, as he stared at her long flowing hair, perfect features, and beguiling eyes, Tangus realized that nothing he had previously done in his life required more self-discipline than just standing his ground and not--once again--losing himself in her perfumed loveliness.

  He spun the chair at his desk and seated himself at what he considered to be a safe distance, content to watch her.

  “I’m still captain of this ship,” he reminded her. “I have duties to perform.”

  “I have some duties you can perform,” she teased, but he brushed her comment away with a wry smile.

  Maybe he gave a little more away in that movement than he wanted, because Asha frowned as she, too, began pulling on clothes.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked. “As eye-opening as the past few days have been ….”

  Tangus had the decency to flush along his cheekbones although his expression didn’t change.

  “…I’d like to do more.”

  “Such as?”

  Indeed. She thought she could compartmentalize her forgotten life in a little box and forgotten about it, that she could start building a new beginning with Tangus. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the questions around her existence continued to appear at the most inopportune moments. How could she possibly help the crew of a quasi-military vessel? Was she combat-trained herself? A superlative navigator or pilot? By the gods, she wished she knew!

  “I’m not sure,” she said slowly.

  “Now if only you were an influential member of the Lower Convergence,” he mused, more to himself, mentioning one of the two galaxy-wide political bodies of the Fusion.

  “You’re thinking of the Lasc Prein destroying your planet.”

  “I’m thinking of justice.”

  “As a member of the Fusion yourself, you can petition for an enquiry sub-committee,” she suddenly said then sat back, thunderstruck. Where had that though
t come from?

  But she was right. Tangus nodded. “True, but we only joined the Fusion a few years ago. Who would agree to sponsor and chair the sub-committee? The Lasc Prein were very smart. They knew the best time to strike the Seti was before we could build up any alliances. All the worlds we have relationships with are non-Fusion. Short of starting an all-out war, which I doubt I can do, the situation still looks hopeless.”

  The door to his quarters buzzed, and still preoccupied, Tangus rose to answer it. He froze when he recognized his visitor.

  Doctor Zehnda’s face was open and enquiring. “Commander, you passed orders that I should report to you this morning. Sub-commander Daurent has already briefed me, and I brought my genetics kit.”

  No! something shouted in Tangus’ head. Don’t do this!

  The night had been wonderful, ecstatic, but what about the future of his people? Could he sacrifice the continued existence of the Seti to monopolize one delectable golden body?

  “Of course,” he greeted after a short pause. “Come in, doctor.” Dammit, he had to prove that he was stronger than this, that he was able to formulate and carry through a difficult strategy. He tried very hard not to think.

  Asha, grateful she had dressed, rose and offered her hand. “Good morning. I’m Asha.”

  The older man put his small case down on the nearby desk before walking forward and taking her hand between his. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m the doctor aboard this ship, Zehnda Galin. At your service.” He applied slight pressure to his grasp then released her.

  Both people turned to face him.

  Give him some excuse. Send him away. You don’t have to do this, Xalor.

  “I’ve … called the Doctor here to give you a checkup.”

  “A good idea,” Zehnda chimed in with a smile. “We should always establish a baseline before we start on the tricky business of xenotyping.”

  Asha frowned. “Xenotyping?”

  But Zehnda wasn’t listening. He moved to Tangus’ desk and opened his case.