by Reagan Woods
Each morning, she woke up determined to finish her sessions in the reconditioner without losing herself. By bedtime, she was worn down and mentally exhausted. If she could just finish the required hours in the evil machine, she knew she could get back to herself. And get off this ship.
Jorkan’s awe at her ability to speed through the reconditioner’s programming cycles barely made an impression as she continued her determined advancement. His friendliness and familiarity toward her grew exponentially as she progressed.
“How long does reconditioning take?”
“It varies by individual. The more resistant an individual is to CORANOS cultural norms, the more sessions they require. Likewise, if an individual struggles with the language aspect of the program, the system will place additional milestones in the process to help the individual continue to progress. You are, by far, the most advanced Earther I’ve seen.”
“Are there others here?” she latched onto his words, hope taking root in her mind. “Earthers like myself?”
“There is no one like you,” he answered glibly.
He’d avoided answering every tactful question she’d asked about the current state of Earth, plans for Earth and Earthers. Everyone she’d ever known was likely dead but if there were others… The thought gave her renewed optimism for a life among her own kind. What she wouldn’t give for the chance to turn her face up to the sun and enjoy a friendly conversation in her own language.
“I appreciate the time you’ve taken with me,” she began by flattering the self-important alien. “I know working with me and evaluating me is part of your job but I have come to value you as a friend. My only friend. Won’t you please tell me if there are any other Earthers left?”
In her life as a free person, before the cohesion movement, the war and the alien invasion, she’d thought herself above wheedling and begging, flattering and fawning. Now she knew better.
“A small fraction of your people are left in encampments on Earth and on certain of the vessels orbiting your little planet,” he confirmed.
“May I see them? Please?”
“I am so sorry, little one. If ever there is a way for me to allow you a glimpse of one of your own, I promise to try. That’s all I can do.”
He didn’t look sorry. Not one bit.
“Tell me, Arianna, why did we find no children among your people?”
She was taken aback by the unexpected change of subject. Arianna hadn’t seen a child or pregnant woman since before the war began. She used to like to think that there were still children and those children’s parents were just really good at keeping them hidden away from the violent world. But she’d had her doubts.
“There were whispers that the weapons the conscripted males were forced to use weren’t tested before distribution. The radiation output of the laser guns and plasma cannons likely sterilized not only the person firing but everyone within a hundred feet of the discharged weapon as well,” she relayed carefully. Something in his manner was telling her to proceed with extreme caution. “Why do you ask?”
“I found it odd that I hadn’t seen any very young Earthers,” he said casually.
“The war lasted four years but the cohesion movement started more than a decade before that. My father was conscripted into the Western Central Government’s military nearly thirteen years ago. Most of my friends’ male family members over 18 years of age were, too. I can’t imagine that you’d find an Earther younger than 13 or 14 years old,” she blinked back the threatening tears, wishing she’d had a moment to mentally brace for the inevitable wash of grief that subject still had the power to evoke.
The pain of losing her beloved father had scabbed over but the wound it left in her heart hadn’t ever healed. Her mother’s cynical, cold way of handling her own grief by refusing to discuss Frank Wellingcourt’s involuntary exit from their lives had affected Arianna deeply. Essentially, she’d lost both parents that day though her mother hadn’t disappeared for several more months.
“Your civilization was dying before we absorbed your planet into the Alliance, then,” Jorkan’s harsh conclusion stung her already raw emotions.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” If he thought she was going to stand there and tell him that the CGA was justified in invading Earth, he could think again.
“I let your final session run long,” Jorkan changed the subject. “You’ll likely be more tired than usual. The General has a meeting to attend this evening. You should sleep.”
His kindly look didn’t fool her. She got the distinct impression he’d deliberately exhausted her before asking his questions. What he’d hoped to gain, she couldn’t fathom, but she didn’t appreciate his tactics.
∞ ∞ ∞
“Councilors, as always, I appreciate your time and your wisdom,” Darvan prepared to leave the Council Session. “I will await your directives,” he stepped back from the booth that projected his holographic image into the Council Chambers and allowed him to interact with the Council Members as though he were there.
“General, before you sign off, we have a few questions of a personal nature,” Councilor Tegas of Doranos Prime stated.
“At your pleasure,” he stepped back into the image projector.
“You’ve read the report on the compatibility between Earthers and CORANOS?”
“I have.”
“Do you intend to breed with your captive, General? Or will you be gifting her to one of the Corian warriors under your command?” Tegas demanded roughly.
“To my knowledge, Councilor, I am unable to breed legitimate heirs with my captive at this time,” Darvan answered carefully.
This was where Darvan needed to tread lightly. As things stood, he couldn’t have an actual relationship with Arianna. And the traditionally female-dominated relationships of his own people wouldn’t suit their dynamic.
He’d noticed the power Arianna wielded over Jorkan. The Doranos male rushed to check on her multiple times daily, sometimes remaining in Darvan’s quarters to work while Arianna was in the reconditioner.
Jorkan wasn’t the only male fascinated with the little Earther. The more time Darvan spent around Arianna, the more she intrigued him. He was envious of the close relationship she was developing with Jorkan. His growing possessiveness over her had led him to install small surveillance cameras throughout his quarters so he could monitor the pair.
“You have granted claiming rights for these Earthers to nearly five hundred thousand warriors. Can you tell me that none of those females was resistant to the idea of being assigned to a Corian Warrior? That they wouldn’t have rather been courted by non-warriors, like the Doranos?” Tegas sneered.
“I haven’t spoken with them. I’ve been carrying out this Council’s wishes for the galaxy. Dr. Balcar and his team have been assigned the task of vetting the females in question and matching them with the petitioners approved by my office.”
Balcar and his team had quietly explained the situation to each female Earther as she was examined and a genetic sample was harvested. Several had volunteered their services as maids and companions in exchange for safe haven away from the crowded work camps. Effectively, they’d agreed to become claimed women, but Darvan saw no need to advertise this fact. Galactic Generals were supposed to plunder and pillage, asking permission of no one save the High Council.
“Your men are looting the female Earthers from the captive encampments and ships. Nearly every fertile female has been assigned to a warrior and evacuated. This is outrageous!” his violet eyes bulged from his skull.
Darvan raised his voice over the shouting of several Doranos council members, “Was the Right to Seek Claim not written into law to entice males into military service? Of course fewer Doranos will benefit from the right to claim the Earthers, there are simply fewer Doranos than Corian warriors,” Darvan finished reasonably.
He expected push-back from the Doranos representatives, but his position was rock-solid.
“The General is correct, Coun
cilor Tegas,” interjected Councilor Darkan, his darkly striped face remained expressionless.
“This will all be moot if we are unable to persuade the Ventix to give up their ridiculous claim on the solar system. Diplomatic solutions have been met with hostility, and their energy signatures still pop up on our scanners throughout space. They are travelling towards the spiral galaxy with war on their minds,” Councilor Nantik interjected. A retired Galactic General himself, Nantik understood exactly what the Council was asking of Darvan and his warriors.
“After the Ventix have been eliminated from the equation, we can assess the remaining Earthers and whether or not to grant them Tribe status,” Darkan took up where Nantik left off. “Even then, assuming you could win a vote to banish the claiming rights, there is no legal way for you to confiscate these females from the males who have claimed them. I sincerely doubt you are proposing to simply let the females go back to Earth and live their lives as potentially unused resources, Tegas?” Darkan pinned the other male with his black stare.
“I thought not,” Darkan said after a tense silence.
Hopefully, this slap on the wrist to the Doranos Council Speaker, the Councilor elected to speak for a galaxy’s many representatives, combined with Darvan’s stern lecture to the Doranos running the Earth work camps would put a stop to the rumored shenanigans on planet.
“I would like the right to address this situation again if new facts come to light,” Councilor Tegas insisted stubbornly.
“We cannot retroactively change a law or concession, it is specifically forbidden in our Galactic Charter,” Nantik reminded Tegas soberly.
“I refuse to submit on this matter,” Tegas held his position.
“In that case, should new circumstances merit, Councilor Tegas will be permitted to vent his frustrations once again. I fail to see how this will change the outcome,” Darkan appeared annoyed. “General, you have followed the letter of the law. Do not trouble yourself further. This is neither the time nor the venue. When they show their hand, drive the Ventix out. You are dismissed, General Darvan.”
“Thank you, Councilor,” Darvan signed off once again. He needed to return to his quarters and get some sleep.
∞ ∞ ∞
“NO!” Darvan heard the shout as soon as the door snicked shut behind him. He tread lightly into the main room drawing his blaster from the discreet holster at his back, listening.
“Arianna?”
Nothing.
Moving quickly, he checked the small space.
On his approach, the sleeping room door slid open to reveal her huddled form on the pallet next to his bed. She was sleeping partway on her stomach with her arms and legs drawn up beneath her, face pressed awkwardly into her pillow, long golden hair flowing over her naked shoulders. She gave a low keening cry every few moments. The slow glide of a tear down her cheek caught his eye, sparkling in the light through the open door behind him. Putting his weapon away, he approached her. This had to stop.
“Lights twenty percent,” he commanded softly.
“Secure sleeping room door,” the low beep let him know his command had been executed.
Kneeling beside her prone body, he gently wiped away the moisture from her face with his thumb.
“Arianna, wake,” he said loudly.
“Wha-?” she flinched awake.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled turning back into the pillow.
“Arianna!” He tried to sound stern, but he knew where this was headed.
“Hmm?” she answered but she didn’t move.
Every night Darvan found a reason to move her into his bed, an unsettling dream or a perceived chill. In the early morning hours, he moved her back to her little pallet on the floor, sternly telling himself that it was the last time.
Heaving an exasperated sigh, he bundled her up, covers and all, and placed her gently on his sleeping platform. He drew out his routine as he readied for sleep, putting off that moment when he’d succumb to temptation. Finally crawling naked under the covers, he still resisted pulling her into his arms.
Darvan had been moved the few times she’d spoken aloud in her sleep, calling for her mother. But he was unreasonably hurt when she cried for Peter while lying in his arms. Intellectually, he’d known no good could come from having her in such close proximity all night long, but something about her drew him in. He’d initially attributed his attraction to her to the novelty of having a female underfoot. Now, he thought perhaps she’d bewitched him.
He fought a losing battle against the growing need to hold her small form close. After lying there sleepless and irritable for several long minutes, he pulled her little cocoon close to his side. Contentment immediately began to steal through his weary body, ushering his tired mind into a deeply relaxing sleep.
Chapter Ten
Two Weeks Later
Arianna peeled off her shorts and support tank and stepped into the sonishower. She had graduated to serving the General’s last meal alone.
“Arianna,” the General’s husky voice called from the entry.
“Welcome,” Arianna strolled to meet the General in the nude, feigning a confidence she didn’t feel.
The heated look he directed her way still made her slightly nervous. She’d come to expect his smoldering perusal as part of their daily routine. He never acted on his desire and she didn’t believe he would. She still wasn’t comfortable being naked in his presence, but she’d grown more accustomed to it.
“What a pretty welcome, indeed,” the General drawled following her into the dining area.
“Would you like to eat now or after you’ve bathed?” She tried to focus on the task at hand, but he smelled so damned good. Her nipples peaked with interest. No, it had to be cold.
He stripped from his uniform shirt and sat at the small table. He indicated that she should prepare his plate while he perused the ever-present anti-grav screen.
She dished up some of each of the alien foods. He seemed to enjoy the narra meat the most. She knew from her sessions in the reconditioner that a narra looked like a cross between an Earth antelope and cow. The meat as well as the small blue and yellow dorma fruits were from Cuva, a planet in the Doranos system. She sat the plate in front of him.
Whenever they were alone in his quarters, he wore almost as little as he allowed her. She knew from her programs that this was the Corian cultural norm. She struggled mightily at those times to keep her eyes to herself. At first, she’d stared because of his immense height and odd coloring. Weeks later, she was used to their differences, and she ogled his strong, perfect form almost against her will. He really was beautifully built. Distractingly so.
The broad width of his shoulders made nearly three of her across. His muscled pecs and abs would have given Michelangelo’s David a serious run for its money in the chiseled department. But the best part that she’d seen of him were his arms. At night, she’d sometimes imagine their brutal strength wrapped around her, keeping her safe.
“No, Arianna, you’ll feed me,” he caught her carefully by the wrist when she would have moved to stand in the corner as usual.
“General?” she turned to face him.
She gave a squeak of alarmed surprise when he grasped her around the waist and brought her to his lap.
“Face me and sit still,” he commanded pulling her right thigh up and over his hips.
She knew it wasn’t likely but had hoped that good behavior would help her be somehow released from service and reunited with her people. She assumed it was an idea the reconditioning program had implanted but it might have been desperation. Whatever it was, she was definitely going to have issues behaving herself from here. His nearness made her want to run away. She felt a lot like a bunny being kept as a pet. By a wolf. Eventually, she’d be eaten.
He settled her across the bulge under his uniform pants with one leg dangling off each side of his massive body. She tried to move away from him but he would have none of
it. Grasping the back of her neck carefully in one hand, he pulled her face into his bare chest and nuzzled the top of her head lightly, almost comfortingly.
Hands planted firmly against the muscular pecs she’d been ogling moments before, she gave one last effort to push away from him. He held her in place but he wasn’t harming her. Breathing in the spicy, familiar scent of his bare skin, she slowly relaxed. He released her neck and she shifted away. Moving her hands behind her to his knees for balance, she strained to see his face clearly from such close quarters.
“No. Stay there. Hold my plate and feed me with your hands,” he instructed patiently.
Selecting small bits of meat and fruit, Arianna fed him in silence. He’d pushed the floating screen away when she’d begun feeding him and, now, he was disturbingly intent on his meal. And his servant.
She desperately wanted him to finish his food. Her heart beat so hard in her chest, she was sure that he could hear it. She knew she flushed, she felt the burning sensation in her face. His enormous hands cradled her hips loosely, steading her movements. Every bite she fed him with her bare fingers resulted in contact with his rough tongue and velvety lips.
She held herself still by sheer force of will when he sucked a bit of juice from her thumb and forefinger. Obviously, he found nothing inappropriate about the situation but she was acutely aware of the thick hardness nestled so intimately between her thighs.
When she finally, thank you God, fed him the last of the meat, he gently held her wrist and proceeded to clean each finger in turn. Using the tip of his tongue, he licked the length of each finger before sucking each delicately into his mouth.
He pressed a kiss to the center of her open palm. His copper eyes mesmerized her, his attention wholly on her, waiting for her reaction. For once, she felt like he was asking permission, not barking orders at her. Very slowly, he released her wrist and slid his thick arms around her, pulling her up towards him. He leaned in, powerful shoulders flexing beneath her hands, to place a chaste kiss gently against her lips.