His blood fired.
Now he felt his body’s acceptance for what had to come. With every fiber of his being, he believed it was no coincidence Lyra Markham had run down that canyon, straight into his life.
If their end
was
to be — and there was nothing to offer hope for life — he’d throw everything he had into their final days. He’d use their cover to pleasure her so thoroughly that the energy from their union would last forever. A part of his soul and hers would filter into the universe, as his Creator led him to believe. In that way, they’d never really die. They’d never be apart. Their fusion would go on.
Perhaps the situation was causing him to lose perspective. He’d faced death so many times, but never with such a sense of utter despair. And never with a tempting little enchantress as his partner. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Nothing happened by accident. She stirred in his arms so he took that opportunity to pull her closer.
“You’re so warm,” she murmured against his chest.
“As taxed as you seemed, I’m surprised you’re awake,” he said as he nuzzled her hair. “The temperature dropped. I can get more blankets.”
She barely shook her head, but kept her eyes closed. “No. Don’t move. Please don’t get up, Sol. I-I’d like to have you near.”
“Sol?” he murmured.
“That’s what I’m gonna call you,” she softly told him. “It means
sun
.”
“I know. But I don’t get the reason for the reference other than the rather impudent shortening of a superior’s first name,” he teased.
She reached out, pulled a portion of his hair forward and said, “It’s because of this … your hair.”
He knew she was blocking their grave circumstance with mindless chatter. He’d engaged that psychological ploy on a number of occasions. “Its color reminds you of a sun?”
“It’s bright. Even out here in this half-light. And you remind me of something else,” she told him as she stared into his eyes. “You remind me of a hero in an old Earth legend. His name was Thor.”
He gently stroked her back while she stretched out against him. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Earth myths. As to the length of my hair, it’s a tradition. It’s not necessary to wear it this long, but I wanted to hang onto as many of my world’s customs as I could …
while
I could.”
“I understand. If you don’t think you’ll ever see home again, every detail of your culture seems crucial.” She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Maybe this Aigean person won’t come.”
“And maybe the Condorians will lay down their arms, ask forgiveness, and we can all go home friends?”
“I can dream. Even if it’s only for a few more hours.”
He wrapped his arms around her protectively, and took the opportunity to stroke her hair since she’d touched his so gently. “You’re still very tired.”
“Not so much,” she advised, and proved it by maneuvering her body on top of his while continuing her steady, deep gaze into his eyes.
Soldar saw the molten look in her stare and knew what she wanted. Apparently, she’d reconsidered her request to delay sexual contact for their “act.”
His body responded instantly and he readily opened his mouth for her kiss. This was a custom he knew his race and hers shared. And it had been so very long since he’d felt a tender touch or a woman’s lips. She’d be the last he’d touch. He’d be her last lover.
He let his tongue entwine with hers and felt heat drill into his body. That molten sensation hadn’t been present in ages. Even his most ardent lovers in the past had never dredged this encompassing, flooding sensation of passion. Blood rushed into his penis. He was rock hard in an instant. But then he’d been ready for an erection since meeting this woman. And when he heard her moan deep in the back part of her throat and felt her hands splay across his shoulders, only the sound of an approaching craft routed him from the embrace.
“Someone’s coming,” he blurted and was on his feet in an instant. From beneath the blankets, he retrieved the laser weapon and saw Lyra pull a Condorian blade from its hiding place beneath a rock. Her weapon would do little good unless a hand-to-hand confrontation ensued. Still, he admired her courage. Any enemy facing
her
would see the blade as it was clearly marked with Condorian edges and half-moon designs on the handle. They’d know it had been removed from a fallen fighter.
Long years of battle experience forced them simultaneously to their knees, to make smaller targets of themselves. The craft glided over the top of a nearby hill. If its occupants fired on them, he and Lyra were better off close to the ground.
He held off using his laser when the unmarked craft — bearing a very humanoid looking male pilot — put the conveyance in hover mode several yards from where they crouched. As it came closer to the ground, another cloaked figure became visible. This person was seated in the back of the open, elliptical-shaped, silver transport.
This
being, however, didn’t bear the fair-colored complexion that he and Lyra shared. In the hazy light, the female he stared at appeared blue or green. Her hair was very pale and cut quite close to her skull.
“Elderian,” he blurted when a tall, lanky woman with pointed ears stood.
“An allied world,” Lyra responded as she sighed in relief.
Soldar noted how Lyra didn’t re-sheath her blade. He understood her caution as he kept his own weapon ready. Whoever this Elderian was, she could easily give them away. Some civilians did that to allied troops when they mistakenly thought Condorians might let them live.
He stood beside Lyra as the hovercraft passenger stepped off her vehicle and walked toward them. Because of the sand and rocks beneath her craft, the lady had to pick up the hem of the long, expensive, whitish gown she wore.
“I’m Aigean Florn,” she announced in perfect Earth English. “I see you’re wearing clothing my employees mistakenly discarded from my ship.” She looked them over. “Who are you?”
Soldar stepped closer to Aigean. “I am Soldar Nar — obviously from Craetoria. In the last message you sent, you welcomed someone of my race to board the Venus.” He didn’t want to say too much, in case she’d been found out and was being monitored. This woman might want to help the allied cause, but she could just as easily betray them in a desperate bid to keep herself alive a bit longer. His words were meant to sound as innocuous as her greeting, and as though she’d sent some missive for entertainment at a time while she still could.
“I asked for five
men
of different races. Not one man and one woman,” Aigean responded as she cast a disdainful gaze toward Lyra. “Some of my most discriminating clients desire men to service them.”
He stepped closer to her. “Am I not the perfect, brawny, virile male for the job?”
Perfect, brawny, virile male
were the code words she’d asked to be used. If she didn’t respond appropriately, he’d know they were being monitored. If that was the case, Aigean would have to take the lead. He had no other instructions.
Aigean glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward the pilot.
The pilot let out a sigh of relief, and slumped into his seat as if he’d been frightened.
Aigean faced them again and spoke more candidly. “You are safe, Craetorian. All is well but I had to make sure. As I stated, there was no mention of bringing a woman with you.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the four men who originally landed with me are dead. A Condorian trench torpedo hit our transport. I was the only one thrown free. This woman is an allied fighter I hooked up with in the badlands. We’ll have to suffice.”
“How the hell do we know we can trust you?” Lyra asked.
Aigean moved in front of her and boldly looked her over. “What is your name, girl?”
“I’m Lyra Markham … Master Sergeant with Earth Force. First Defense Platoon, Tenth Earth Regiment. I got cut off from the last battle near the Plageian Escarpment. The Colonel and I met when he saved my life.”
“
Colonel
?” Aigean blurted.
Soldar nodded. “That is my correct rank. Again … it was
my
unit that was supposed to have served as your new entertainment, Ms. Florn. To keep the mission intact, the sergeant and I have agreed to present ourselves as an erotic duo. This was an alternate plan we hoped you could explain.”
Aigean looked them over more carefully. “Am I to understand the
two
of you are basically strangers, and you’ve agreed to jointly display your sexual prowess … while Condorians watch? Or am I misinterpreting the situation?”
“That’s correct,” Soldar told her. “As it happens, Lyra is somewhat familiar with hacking into computer systems and
might
be able to use your communications console to intercept messages coming from your ship’s private rooms. I realize that your com room is compromised, but our cover might give us access. We’d need your assistance with that.”
“All this poses a monumental change in plans,” Aigean mused, as she began to pace back and forth in front of them. As she walked she pushed up the sleeves of her long gown. “I have been promising my …
clients
… something unusual. Something that will amaze them,” she stated bitterly. “If I don’t give them what they want soon … my employees’ lives may be forfeit.”
“How did you get away from your vessel without being noticed or monitored?” Lyra asked suspiciously. “Why isn’t there a contingent of Condorian war guards with you?”
Aigean stopped pacing and stood in front of them. “Everyone who isn’t an employee or on guard duty has been imbibing drugs and alcohol for weeks. The enemy wants more and more. And because of their addictions, they stay virtually out of touch with reality. All they know is that I’ve left with but one employee and one surface transport craft with only enough fuel to traverse a short distance. This hardly poses any concern for them. Besides, they think I’m here to pick up a new male toy for the Condorian admiral … a contemptuous lout who has been quite demanding concerning his needs. I received permission to pick you up from a small convoy of entertainers headed toward another Condorian pleasure haven somewhere in this sector. That is the story concerning your arrival in this area. Fortunately, there seems to be a mutual agreement between Condorian hierarchies to maintain living standards, and keeping quiet about who else in this sector is doing the same.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “Condorian officers don’t ask when it comes to the transport of spoils of war. The admiral aboard my ship seems to be particularly feared. He gets his choice of booty first.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “That explains how you got here without guards. It also offers a good cover for how we happen to be on the planet. But it doesn’t explain how you manage to keep supplies coming?”
Soldar knew his new partner wasn’t convinced of Aigean’s claims to help allies. He’d already had a conversation with Lyra concerning how the Condorian elite would make sure their needs were met even before their underlings, but he said nothing. Lyra’s interrogation gave him a chance to watch Aigean carefully.
Aigean glared back at Lyra, but answered slowly and in a way that seemed unrehearsed.
“Had the Condorian smugglers not just raided a law enforcement blockade around Korid Prime I’d be running low on all kinds of supplies,” she responded. “As I’ve said, those smugglers made sure the Condorians on my ship got first pick of everything. Thankfully, whether by legal means or not, the problems concerning food, water, supplies, drugs, and alcohol have been addressed. As to you two and whatever meager skill you may possess with communication systems … it might be possible to get one or both of you on the bridge. But only if you are convincing in your behavior and only so long as the admiral thinks he is in complete control. His ego and addictions are such that this poses less of a problem than one might imagine.”
“And you’re sure your employees aren’t going to turn us in to save their hides?” Lyra persisted.
“My employees have been through more than you can possibly imagine, young woman! They do not even have the benefit of escaping through use of drugs or alcohol. They must be clear-headed at all times. Having maintained such sobriety is how information began to flow from drunken barbarians to us, and to the allied fleet. In my guest’s current
celebratory
state, my movements are barely scrutinized. The enemy knows I would not run from my ship, my crew, and my friends.” She suddenly stepped closer to Lyra and began a closer inspection. “Let me look at you, girl.”
Lyra glanced between the Elderian woman and Soldar. “
What
?”
“Oh, for the love of Beydor’s Moons, turn around and let me get a good look at you!”
Lyra hesitantly did as she was asked.
“With some work, you might do,” Aigean advised, then turned her attention on Soldar. “And you, Craetorian. Let me get a look at
you
as well.”
Unused to being perused in such a way, Soldar was about to balk, but the bluish woman stood her ground and glared at him until he complied. After he turned for her perusal, their new hostess slowly nodded.
“I have something in mind,” she said as she tapped one cheek with her long, red-tipped index finger. Unfortunately, you’ll have to leave the weapons behind. The Condorians have installed equipment on my ship that will detect laser devices. Even members of their own units don’t patrol my vessel while armed. Their commanding officer feels that doing so might give battle-weary veterans an excuse to discharge arms when intoxicated,” she confirmed. “Their admiral came here for peace and quiet. He wants no headaches that an ensuing fight among his own men might cause.”
“Too bad,” Lyra muttered. “I’d pay to see them kill each other.”
“You must realize something about the man who now runs my ship,” Aigean countered. “He is crafty. Do not underestimate his intelligence. He has many warrior friends aboard the Venus. They are his eyes and ears.” The older woman paced a bit more before speaking again. “It’s to our advantage that his contingent believes my people incapable of such audacity as planting spies aboard his current haven. I have bartered an uneasy truce with him even when he killed several of my employees he perceived as spies. For this reason I’ve ordered my crew to cater to his every whim. His total complacency and delight in his latest victory makes our situation easier,” she instructed, “but you’ll still be watched. The boarding guards could search you for contraband. They’ll most certainly take any personal belongings. Nothing you carry or your bodies can be considered private unless you capture the enemy admiral’s particular interest and protection. Do you understand?”