Alien Conquest

by Honey Phillips

  A blush rose to her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do not be sorry,” the Supreme Commander said, even as T’lan gave her a reassuring hug. “Your openness is most refreshing.”

  “Indeed, you could take a lesson from her,” A’rathia said coldly. “T’rarchar, why didn’t you tell me what S’ram had done.”

  “I wished to spare you pain, my—A’rathia.”

  “Instead, you left me thinking poorly of this child who did nothing wrong.”

  “Spare you pain?” Emily couldn’t help interrupting again. “Did you know Sam?”

  “He was the son of our son.”

  Horror filled her. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have told you if I had known.”

  “I know, but I appreciated your honesty.” A glare at the male behind the desk. “Not only about that but about your friendship with him.”

  A single tear trailed down A’rathia’s cheek. Impulsively, Emily jumped up and hugged her. After a shocked pause, the older woman’s arms came around her and she bent down to press her lips to Emily’s head. Almost at once she stepped away, pulling her dignity back in place. Emily wiped her own eyes and grinned at her.

  “That means you’re going to be a great grandmother. I’m so glad. I want her to have a family. More family,” she added hastily after a quick look at T’lan. She turned to go back to him but stopped in her tracks and stared at the Supreme Commander. “Does that mean that you’re her great grandfather?”

  “That is usually the way these things work,” he assured her gravely.

  T’lan laughed as she blushed. “Come here, my L’chka, and give that busy mind a chance to rest.”

  As she walked toward him, her stomach gave an unfortunately loud growl.

  “Have any of you fed this child?” A’rathia demanded.

  T’lan looked appalled, but before he could speak, A’rathia continued. “Do you still keep a room behind your office, T’rarchar?”

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, she whisked over to the right-hand wall, pressed a hidden switch and disappeared behind the panel that opened as a result. They all stared after her.

  “Please, Miss R’gers, resume your seat.”

  “Call me Emily. We’re family now.” She climbed back into T’lan’s lap, feeling much less self-conscious now. He put his arms around her and she snuggled into him.

  A’rathia returned with a tray and directed T’chok to move a small table in front of Emily.

  “Eat, child.”

  “Um.” She gave the tray a horrified stare, unable to recognize a single item of food.

  “Trust me. You will like it—and your child will like it.”

  “Isn’t anyone else going to eat?” Any excuse to avoid trying that suspicious looking pile of food.

  A’rathia laughed. “Very well. I will prepare more. Warriors are always hungry.”

  “I didn’t mean that you had to cook for everyone…”

  “This is not cooking; it is replicating.” She disappeared again but reappeared quickly with trays that she handed to each of the males. Emily was embarrassed to realize that her tray was by far the largest.

  “You have avoided it long enough. Eat, my L’chka,” T’lan ordered.

  When she still eyed the food reluctantly, he leaned forward and picked up something that resembled a green blob.

  “Open.”

  “I’m really not—” He popped it into her open mouth. Unwilling to spit it out in front of everyone, she bit down reluctantly and almost moaned as a warm fruity gel filled her mouth. She devoured everything else that he fed her. At one point she looked over and T’chok was watching T’lan feed her with an expression she couldn’t identify on his face. When she finally finished and looked up, she realized that A’rathia was watching T’rarchar eat, a softened look on her face. What had happened between those two?

  “That was delicious. Thank you, A’rathia,” she said softly.

  The older female smiled and nodded. “I will send T’lan additional suggestions. You must not neglect to eat.”

  Emily sat back on T’lan’s lap and watched as the males finished eating, somewhat surprised to find she was no longer disturbed by watching them eat. After they had all finished and T’chok had collected the trays, she leaned forward.

  “So why am I really here?”

  The warriors looked uncomfortable, but the Supreme Commander cleared his throat.

  “Commander T’lan tells me that you are aware of the sabotage.”

  She gave T’lan a worried look, but he gave her a reassuring squeeze and nodded.

  “I did see it happen,” she admitted. “I’m sure that no earth weapon would produce that kind of light—or that effect.”

  “As it turns out, you are correct. Unfortunately, we have discovered that the explosive substance was taken from this ship.”

  T’lan tensed but remained silent.

  “Do you know who did it?” she asked.

  “No.” T’rarchar shook his head in what would have been a gesture of frustration in a different male. “The United Worlds building was scanned for explosives four times per day. No ship arrived there between the morning scan and the explosion.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We keep extensive logs of both departing and arriving flights.”

  “But if someone was smart enough to steal it, they were obviously smart enough to figure out a way to get around the logs.”

  “Or they had help,” T’chok said.

  “Yes. I was reluctant to believe that I had warriors of such dishonor on board, but I am forced to admit that it is true. They must be found and punished.” For the first time, the Supreme Commander looked like the frightening image he had presented to the world. A shiver skated up her spine but something about what he said teased at her. Logs—that was it.

  “I know this,” she said and jumped up. “There’s an old movie where the logs were altered so it looked like a flight didn’t exist.”

  “A movie? A form of entertainment?”

  “Yes.” She waved an impatient hand. “But the idea is still good. In the movie they made the culprit think they had eyewitnesses.”

  “Any eyewitnesses on earth are dead,” he said flatly. “If there are any here, they are part of the plan.”

  “I understand, but don’t you have any non-military personnel? Non warriors, I mean, that maybe he didn’t get to?”

  “The scholars keep detailed records,” T’lan said slowly. “I do not know if they recorded arriving personnel, but their data would have been saved to storage on the ship.”

  “We would need their assistance.” T’rarchar did not sound enthusiastic.

  “Maybe if you told them you were wrong to blame them, they would be willing to help?” Emily suggested.

  “Wrong?” Ice dripped from T’rarchar’s tone.

  Emily cast a nervous glance at T’lan, but he only raised one shoulder a fraction. Apparently, that meant it was her decision.

  “T’lan told me that the scholars were trying a new approach.”

  “It failed.”

  “But it really didn’t,” she argued. “Weren’t we humans basically accepting your presence?”

  “Perhaps. But once it went wrong, it took much longer than usual to assert control. We are still seeing major uprisings. Humans are still rebellious. Look at what happened to your Elder Female.”

  Emily swallowed at the reminder but pushed aside the emotion and kept going. “I know. And I’m not saying that… discipline isn’t needed. It’s just… Normally you come in and declare yourself as conquerors and kill anyone who fights back, right?” T’lan hadn’t exactly said that but she thought it was a reasonable assumption. “But it’s not just the people of whatever planet you are… occupying. Because they do fight back, and you die, too.”

  A’rathia made a muffled sound and Emily saw her eyes glitter with tears. When she looked back at the Supreme Commander, he was studying his L’chka with an expressio
n of concern. Twisting her fingers nervously, Emily continued.

  “And my guess is that even after your initial victory, the majority may be cowed but there are still rebels. But this time, S’mathan gave us a vision that many people believed in. I believed in the work I was doing at the United Worlds.”

  “That has not changed. We have continued to bring improvements to this planet.”

  “I know that, and I’m guessing a lot of other people do as well, but they don’t seem that important when all we see on the news is violence. They don’t see the results of the type of project Sam and I worked on—where we showed people how the Yehrin were helping humans.”

  “We are still helping humans.”

  “But you don’t make people understand that. You would give a one sentence announcement that you had released a cure for muscular dystrophy. We produced a five-minute video that told the story of little girl with the disease and how Leader S’mathan helped her to walk for the first time.”

  “The result is the same.”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t feel the same. People remember that little girl and it offers another vision of the Yehrin besides planes being shot down over Washington.”

  “She is right,” A’rathia interjected. “You do not understand the emotional impact of your actions.”

  The two stared at each other and the tension in the room increased significantly. Finally, the Supreme Commander looked back at Emily.

  “I will consider your words.”

  “Thank you.” Again, she had the odd desire to curtsey.

  “For now, I would request that you stay on the ship.” It didn’t sound like a request, but despite her instinctive desire to protest, she didn’t have anywhere else she wanted to be right now, especially since T’lan and Gran were both on board.

  “Very well,” she muttered. “But are you going to keep making poor T’chok run in front of me?”

  “I could confine you to T’lan’s quarters,” he mused. She opened her mouth to protest but he raised a hand and she saw that he now looked amused. “But I suspect that neither my commander nor my L’chka would take kindly to that.”

  “Or me.”

  “Or you,” he agreed. His eyes traveled over her. “My crew will not know what to think of you.”

  “Is this wrong?” She looked down at her cute dress in dismay. “I suppose I could try and make one of those white outfits fit me, or I could wear that black thing.”

  “No, M’lee,” he said gently. “I would not dishonor you by having you pretend to be other than what you are.”

  “It might be best if we did not reveal that the child is half Yehrin,” T’lan said.

  “Why not?” Emily demanded

  “We are still within the Forbidden Cycle. There is already unrest.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” The males were doing that thing where they exchanged glances over her head again. “A’rathia?”

  “Our warriors are impatient to find mates of their own,” she responded. “If it appears that one of their commanders has violated the rule with impunity, it will suggest that they may do the same.”

  “You could remove me from my command,” T’lan suggested, his face grim.

  “That’s not right,” Emily protested. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “As long as you know that—and you, Supreme Commander—what do I care?”

  She studied his face. “I think you would care very much if anyone thought you behaved without honor.”

  “We could let it be known that he is not the father. The biological father,” A’rathia added hastily. “If you bore a human child, you could have been pregnant before we even arrived. To take in another man’s child is an act of great honor.”

  “I cannot deny our child,” T’lan said slowly. “I fear I would not react well if someone were to suggest such a thing.”

  “You do not need to say anything.” T’chok spoke up. “I can make sure that the story travels. No one would have the nerve to ask you to your face and if they did, they would expect you to deny it.”

  T’lan inclined his head. “Very well.”

  “Are you sure, T’lan?”

  “Yes, my L’chka. As long as I am not required to deny you or our daughter.”

  “Then it is settled,” the Supreme Commander said. “Welcome to the Khaichi, M’lee. I foresee an interesting time ahead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  One week later, Emily stared at the walls of their cabin and scowled at the memory of the Supreme Commander’s words. Interesting time? She was completely bored. Even though she had not been confined to quarters, the attention she received every time she left it made it so embarrassing that she tended to just stay in the cabin unless she had a specific place to go. Although T’lan was just as attentive when he was present, and their lovemaking was as exciting as ever, he frequently left her to attend to his duties. Although he always left a guard on duty outside their door in case she wanted to go anywhere, it just wasn’t the same. She spent as much time as she could with her grandmother, but the doctor was almost always there, and she was beginning to feel like a third wheel. A’rathia had visited twice but she seemed troubled and did not stay long.

  She spent a brief period each day with Tren but he mainly stared at the wall and refused to talk to her. She knew that his translation protocol had been upgraded as a reward for his bravery, so he didn’t have that as an excuse. The damage to his horn seemed to consume him. During this morning’s visit, she had finally lost patience with him.

  “It’s just a horn,” she yelled. “It’s not like they cut off your penis.”

  That stirred him enough to flash her an outraged look.

  “You damaged your horn saving my grandmother. For me, it will always be a symbol of how brave you truly are. Now get over it.”

  She had stormed out, wishing that there was a way to slam one of the stupid sliding doors. Now she curled deeper into the corner of the uncomfortable couch. Tribs chirped at her and wiggled closer. He was her only constant companion, but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

  The door opened and she was almost pathetically eager to see T’lan enter. Rushing over, she threw her arms around him.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “What troubles you, my L’chka?”

  “I’m having a bad day. I yelled at Tren. Gran and Dr. Gaston only want to play cribbage. I’m so tired of white and black. You’re always working. I miss going outside. And I’m bored, bored, bored.”

  “My poor little one.” He scooped her up and returned to the couch with her on his lap. She sighed and snuggled closer, her problems already seeming less severe now that she was surrounded by his warmth and strength. “What a lot of troubles. I am glad you spoke to T’renan—he has withdrawn long enough. You know the grandmother cares for you but perhaps she is enjoying time with someone her own age. If you’re tired of white and black, change it.”

  “Can I?”

  “Of course—to whatever makes you happy.” His eyes twinkled. “You cannot make a trip to the Antique Barn but anything you want to order, I can arrange to have brought to the ship.”

  “UPS delivers up here?”

  “No, little one. To a delivery post below.” He sighed. “I am afraid that I cannot work less. And now that I am onboard, I can no longer avoid attending to some matters personally.”

  “I know. I guess I was lucky to have you to myself when we were at home.”

  “As for your final problem…”

  “Yes?”

  “T’rarchar considered your words. He has decided to allow a small group of scholars to work on ways to present information in a more pleasing way. If you would like—and as long as it does not affect your health or the health of our child—you may join them.”

  “Really?” Her excitement bubbled up and she peppered his face with kisses.

  “Yes.” He grasped her chin to hold her still and gave her a stern look. “You will remai
n at a respectful distance at all times, do you understand? I know that you have an abundance of enthusiasm, but you are not to touch any of them in even the most casual manner, do you understand me? They would not understand, and I would be most displeased.”

  Even his warning could not subdue her happiness. To be working again and at something she truly believed in. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed it.

  “T’renan will accompany you,” he continued.

  “Tren? I’m not sure he is even speaking to me.”

  “He has his orders.” T’lan was using his commander voice so she didn’t argue, but her doubts must have been written all over her face because he laughed. “Do not worry, little one. He needs to return to duty. It will be good for him.”

  “If you say so.” Dismissing her doubts, she swiveled around until her legs were on either side of T’lan’s, bringing her center flush against where his body was already responding to hers. Tribs made an almost disgusted noise and jumped down off the couch. “Are you in a hurry?”

  “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.” He groaned as she began to undulate against him. “M’lee.”

  “We’ll just have to be quick. You don’t even have to get undressed.” With the ease of experience, her fingers found the hidden catch that released the fabric over his groin. His cock sprung up between them—long, thick, perfect. As many times as they had made love, she still struggled to believe that he could fit that enormous erection inside her. Using both hands, she massaged the undulating shaft, before bending down to lick up the drops of pale blue precum that already beaded the head. He growled and reached for her, but she leaned back, eyes dancing.

  “My turn. You just sit there and enjoy.” She was wearing a simple maternity dress, so it was an easy matter to pull it over her head. His eyes immediately focused on where her breasts threatened to spill out of her bra, but he kept his hands fisted at his sides. She suspected he wouldn’t let her remain in charge for long, but she was going to take advantage of it while she could. She lowered the bra cups so that they framed her breasts and her nipples popped free, then lifted up so that she could tease them against his mouth. As was inevitable now, tiny drops of milk appeared. He groaned again and bent forward, capturing a nipple long enough for one hard suck. The sensation fired straight to her needy pussy and she gasped. He released her leaving a long red nipple.