"You don't need to—"
"Not just today," she said. "On your first day, with the sniper. And the assassins. And even with my brother, when you thought... I appreciate your job is not open to subtlety."
He chuckled. "No, no it is not. And while we're at it, I'm sorry for, you know, speaking out of turn. I'm starting to realize the things you deal with, they're a little... complicated. And me acting like an ass doesn't help."
"It's not ideal," she said, with a smile, and then looked up, into his eyes. "But I like it."
Silence. He wasn't supposed to make eye contact, but here he was, doing it again. Her makeup was smudged and smeared, but her eyes still burned fiercely out at him, probing him, watching his every breath.
"I'll try to behave from now on," he said, voice a whisper.
"Don't," she said, and kissed him.
At first, he didn't know how to react. All the different parts of his brain were firing off messages at the same time, all with conflicting advice. The loudest part sounded like Deo'ta, and it was not impressed with the situation. But when the kiss finally ended, and her lips brushed lightly against his, the only message his body heard was the desperate need to taste her again.
More kisses, and deeper kisses, and she put her hands on his cheeks and guided his mouth down her chin, her neck, moaning as he brushed against the top of her collar.
She moved away, eyes locked on him, and unfastened the latch atop her collar, gliding her fingers down, around her bosom, all the way to her waist, where the thin line of binding came apart, and the tight dress came loose, and slid off her shoulders.
She was magnificent. Her clothes somehow did her a grave injustice... he couldn't look away. She took his hand in hers, brought it to her mouth, and kissed a finger, down the side, and brought his palm down—
He hesitated. "I'm not allowed to touch you," he whispered.
"Emergency situation," she breathed, and set his hand on her breast, and things into motion.
She moaned, softly, as his lips probed her body, fingertips running reconnaissance ahead of the main assault. She peeled the shirt off him, laying him flat and kissing down his chest to his belt, before he flipped her over and finished the thought, on her. Her fingers tugged at his hair, body twisting in pleasure while his hands travelled up, squeezing her, gripping her, holding her tight.
She gasped, later, as their eyes met, faces slick with sweat, and she lowered herself down onto him. He buried himself in her neck while her hands gripped his back, nails digging in as they moved faster and faster and the space between the disappeared into a blinding blue light, and they collapsed together, among the furs, breathless but alive, tangled in ways they'd never unravel.
"I'm going to get fired for this," he said, tracing a finger along the edge of her breast and watching her tremble.
"Executed, more like," she smiled, and felt the contours of his muscles with casual curiosity.
He set a hand on the side of her face, made sure she heard him: "I won't let anything happen to you."
"I know," she said, and kissed him as her hand travelled downward, and found wonderful ways to get their evening going again.
27
Yara was grinning the second the came out of the bedroom. "Morning," she said, sipping her tea. "Did you sleep? Well, I mean? Sleep well?"
The Empress laughed, rubbed her eyes a little. "The bed was very comfortable, thank you."
"Oh, I heard," said Yara. "I've never heard anyone enjoy a bed so much."
Colton stretched out his back when he realized: "Where's Botoba? And Derra?"
"Out fetching breakfast," said Yara, and began pouring them each a dish of tea. "Derra wants you to try his favorite dish today. I warn you: it is very sweet, even for Kgegans. But he loves it, so..."
The Empress sat next to Yara, accepted the tea with a nod. "Sounds like an adventure."
Colton stood by the window, looking out at the city, trying to formulate some kind of plan, despite all the impossibilities he'd have to overcome. Some kind of route that would get them to the cave without the snipers stopping them, without anyone seeing them, and with enough wiggle room they could get back to Botoba's home to wait for extraction.
He saw a glint on the rooftop of a building across the way. He was being watched already. Not a good start.
"Speaking of adventure..." Yara said, giving the Empress a wink. "With your honeymoon off to such a good start, I thought you might enjoy a trip to the hot springs."
Colton turned at the same time the Empress looked up. "Hot springs?"
Yara wrapped an arm around the Empress, hugged her like a sister. "On the south side of Ygi-da Mountain," she said. "Little pools, very private, beautiful crystalline patterns all around... if you have nothing else to do." She whispered: "The waters carry a powerful stimulant." She got real sly when she added: "Powerful."
The Empress blushed, and Colton laughed, and turned back toward the window. If these hot springs were secluded enough, they might give enough cover to find a way out, and maybe—
He flinched at the sight of a flash near the sniper's position — his instinct was to tackle the Empress and run for cover, but his brain stopped him just in time, reminding him there was no way she was in the line of fire. But someone had definitely taken a shot... at whom?
Another flash, then another, and then six more frantic shots before the sniper's entire building exploded in a sudden burst of fire, like it had been struck by an asteroid with military precision. The shockwave rushed out so fast, Colton only had seconds to turn before being thrown clear across the room, into a wall, as the apartment re-arranged itself into a war zone.
He crawled to his knees, coughing out dust, and tried to focus. "Ilina!" he shouted, voice raw and winded. "Ilina!"
There, by the bedroom, he saw her, lying amid the rubble, blood streaked down her forehead. She scrambled forward, turning her over, feeling for a pulse, checking where the wound was, how badly she was hurt.
She coughed, rolled to the side, spat.
He held her tight, let out a ragged breath. "Oh thank God."
"Wh-what happened?" she asked. "I don't—"
"Boto!" screamed Yara, and they saw her at the window, clawing at the edge so she could lean out to see. "Boto! Derra!"
Colton didn't even need to ask. The Empress' eyes said everything.
The staircase swayed violently as they raced down, bursting out the front of the building into an utter hellscape. Boulders the size of pickups littered the street; ash and flaming debris was embedded absolutely everywhere; and the bodies were... it was terrible.
Yara arrived between them, hand to her mouth, trembling in terror. She didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say.
She looked up and to the left, down a winding roadway, and she nearly collapsed. Smoke. Smoke and fire. Colton caught her by the arm, braced her.
"The market..." she cried. "The market!"
He ran ahead, almost tumbling down the uneven steps that looped down the edge of a cliff, into a market down below. Whatever the market had looked like before, it was very different now: it had sustained a direct hit, and was little more than a molten crater with the remnants of shops flattened all around it. The bottom of the path he was on had been pulverized by the blast, leaving him on a road to nowhere...
...but then there were the screams. Dozens of them, all around, of wounded shoppers, buried under the rubble. He saw one man missing a leg, trying to crawl across the rim of the marketplace, toward a young woman who was very much dead.
"Fuck," said Colton, and ran further down.
The pathway wasn't just broken, it was actively breaking, with large chunks breaking off as he approached. It was too high to jump, and too unsafe to climb. If he had time, he might've come up with a better plan, but instead he used whatever momentum he had and threw himself off the side
of the pathway, arms flailing—
—and caught one of the dangling vines near the cliff's edge. He had in his mind that he would use it to swing down gracefully and land on his feet like a true hero, but instead, the vine snapped, and he found himself crashing through the thatched roof of a market stall, landing in a bundle of baskets filled with eggs. It was not exactly graceful. Also, it hurt like a son of a bitch.
A woman sat in the corner, near him, huddled with her young daughter, covering her eyes to shield her from reality. Colton rolled to his knees, then got to his feet. "You're going to be OK," he said, and hoped he'd be right.
Just outside the door, he found an older Kgegan with a piece of shrapnel in his thigh. The man was moaning on about something that made no sense, but it really didn't matter: Colton tore the man's shirt sleeve off, made a quick-and-dirty tourniquet, and carried him inside the stall with the eggs. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. "Keep him calm," he told the woman. "I'll be back."
Two more Kgegans had fixable injuries, and he did his best to patch them up. One man was missing part of his skull, but talking normally about something called itako before his eyes rolled back in his head, and he died. Five others were dead when he reached them, so he closed their eyes and mouthed a prayer on the way to the next tragedy.
At the far end of the market was a massive mound of rock — whatever had hit them had come in on an angle, and thrown debris that way — and in that area, all he could see were limbs and bits of mangled flesh. But Botoba and Derra weren't anywhere else, so as awful as it was, he knew where he had to look.
His muscles burned red hot as he heaved large boulders aside, trying to clear a path toward something... anything that would give him hope. "Botoba!" he shouted into the rocks. "Derra!" He shovelled debris away with his hands, fingers bleeding, dust filling his lungs. "Come on, guys! Talk to me!"
He slid another slice of boulder aside, and as it tumbled away, he thought he heard... a voice calling. He froze, listening carefully... and there it was again. He leaned closer, pressing his ear to a gap between the rocks, and—
"Mama!" cried Derra, somewhere underneath.
"Hold on, Derra!" Colton shouted, and scoured the mound for the best way in. He tossed small rocks aside like they were nothing, shoved bigger pieces out of the way until he could hear the sound of Derra weeping so clearly, he knew he was close. More and more and more obstacles gone, and then—
—and a massive, man-sized chunk of stone blocked his path. His breath left him at the sight of it. There was no way he could move that.
But he had to try.
His fingers wrapped around the edge and he pulled with every ounce of strength he had in him. Nothing. He took two sharp breaths and doubled down, screaming in fury and agony until he heard the sounds of pebbles shifting all around... it was moving!
But his foot slipped, and he lost his grip, and stumbled. Inside, Derra, was crying, calling out for help. "I'm here, Derra. I'll get you out. You stay brave."
He gripped again, prayed to God for whatever strength He could spare, and let out such a primal roar it echoed all through the canyon and back again. He pulled with everything he had, and felt the stone lifting...
...but it just wasn't enough. He couldn't let go, but he knew in that moment that he couldn't win. Tears streamed down his face as he kept fighting, kept trying to—
Big stubby fingers grabbed the far end of the stone, and steadied Colton's grip. He looked up to see Ugero there, massive muscles flexing, mouth turned up in a determined grin. Ugero nodded to Colton, and they both screamed their lungs out as they pulled the stone up, clear of the rubble, and let it tumble down the pile with a massive boom.
Colton collapsed to his knees, digging away the rest of the rubble until he saw the edge of a blue tunic, and a flash of orange fur. He carefully reached in and pulled Derra free. The boy was bruised but not bleeding, more scared than hurt. He hugged Colton tight and sobbed.
Colton looked into the gap they'd cleared, and saw Botoba lying there, arm cracked at an odd angle, blood on his face. Colton held Derra tighter, not wanting him to see.
"Ohhhh," groaned Botoba, out of nowhere. "This feels worse than stairs."
Colton laughed, but Ugero bellowed and set about freeing Botoba properly.
A few careful steps downward, and Colton was on solid ground again, just as the Empress and Yara arrived, exploding with joy at the sight of Derra. Colton handed the boy over to his mother, and caught his breath, hard as it was.
"How did you get down here?" the Empress asked, resting a hand on his chest to feel his racing heart.
"Jumped."
She looked back at the broken ramp, at the drop to the market below. "How?"
He shrugged. "Badly."
More Kgegans were flooding into the market, carrying equipment and stretchers to the injured and the dead. Overhead, a helicopter-like ship was hovering, lowering cables and hooks to help cart away the bigger bits of wreckage. Colton felt the rush of reality crashing into him.
A heavy had clapped his back, and he almost fell over. "You did good, Earth human," said Ugero, as medics tended to the unearthed Botoba behind them. "I knew you were good from the moment I hit you."
He gestured toward the Empress, gave a wink. "After today, you can easily trade this one for a good-looking wife."
They all laughed. Even the Empress... followed by a kiss that made the hurting stop.
28
It took until sundown for the wailing to quiet, that awful sound echoing through the city that kept everyone on edge. Whether it was because the last of the injured had been saved, or the last of them had died, Colton couldn't tell. But the silence weighed on him nonetheless.
Piro arrived at their building after dark, fur matted with blood and muck, a look in his eyes like he had lived too long, seen too much, buried too many. He stood there, in the doorway, at a loss for words.
"You..." he began, but his voice cracked, and he stopped. "You saved us today. I... we all owe you a debt."
Colton shook his head. "I did what any man would do—"
"No," said Piro. "We accused you... I accused you of something awful, and I could not have been more wrong. I apologize, kicho. I humbly beg your forgiveness."
Colton lifted himself off the ground, sore and exhausted, and made his way over to the leader of the Kgegan rebellion. He held out his hand. "Never apologize for protecting your kin."
Piro smiled, took the hand, and nodded. "We will find you better accommodations in the morning. Until then, please use Botoba's apartment as your own. He will be under medical care for some time, with his family."
"That's very kind," said the Empress, joining them, "but you needn't bother with—"
"I must bother," said Piro, "because it keeps me sane on days like this." He glanced over his shoulder, at the ruins that had replaced his city. And shook his head. And left without another word.
Colton and the Empress made their way up the vine staircase to the seventh floor; the door was still open, the main room strewn with bits of rock and misery. They stood there, staring at it, hand-in-hand just staring at it. And then they got to work.
A broom-like instrument to gather the rocks and grit. A pan to scoop it up. A chute in the wall to take it all away. Water from a wide rectangular spout, onto a rag, run back and forth until the orange floor felt clean again. Re-arrange the furs around the fireplace. Re-light the flame. Boil some water. Drink some tea.
In the bathroom was a large, uneven pit, dug out of the stone and bookended by two more rectangular spouts. After some searching, they figured out how to turn the water on, and adjust the temperature, and not create a mess in the process. A vial by the edge gave the water a scent Colton called "rose" and the Empress called "wen." Either way, it was just what they needed.
They lay there together, water up to their necks, wrapped in
each other's arms, listening to the drip, drip, drip from the spout. The Empress ran her hand down Colton's side, back and forth, feeling the muscles there, the ribs, the aching bones.
"I still can't understand," she said, after a time. "What was that?"
Colton knew what she meant, because he had the same questions. "I don't know. It seemed to come from—"
"Orbit," she said, voice hollow, because she knew what it meant.
"But your people wouldn't bomb civilian targets, would they?" he asked. "I mean, even if they knew where Piro was, that would be—"
"Forbidden," she said. "Strictly forbidden. Not to mention, if they got it wrong, they might have killed us, too. They very nearly did."
That made a connection in Colton's mind. His jaw tensed. "Unless they don't know we're alive. If they think we're already dead..."
"...it's retribution," she gasped. "They want revenge."
Colton let out a pained sigh. "We need to let them know where we are before things get any worse."
She was about to argue, so he cut her off:
"Between Piro on the one side, and the Empire on the other, the longer we stay here, the greater the chances we don't survive at all. I'd rather not leave you, but we're out of time. We need to take some risks."
"But if we just—"
"I'm telling you, there's no time..."
She put her chin on his chest, frowning at him. "Why do you say that? What are you so scared of?"
"Nothing, I just—"
"Colton, what are you not telling me? What do you know that I don't?"
"I know how that ends!" he shouted, sitting up suddenly, forcing her off. "I know what happens when you wait. And I can't do that again. Not again."
The Empress watched him with concern. She touched his shoulder, and he flinched away. "What is it?" she asked. "What happened?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, tried not to remember, but knew it was a losing battle.
"We were on a mission," he said, voice low. "Chasing... a very bad man. We had intel he was hiding in the mountains — not like this, though. Like an animal, digging holes, coming out at night to terrorize anyone who dared stand up to him. We knew he was trapped in one particular zone, but we... we couldn't quite pin him down."
The Galactic Empress' Bodyguard Page 11