by Juno Wells
“Put us in position behind the remaining ship and target the shielding around its engines. If we manage to break through, which is likely with so many pecking away at his shield, we take out the engines and open them for boarding by our fighters.”
“You intend to take both ships?” Calen’s concerned voice drifted through the throng of whispers among the crew.
Turning to look at the scion of Jeron, he nodded. “I plan to take all three of the ships. You have been my first officer for long enough and are overdue for your own command as are a couple of others on board this vessel.”
Barely able to keep the smile off his face, Calen dipped his head in a gesture of respect. “Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”
“I never for a moment thought you would.”
Even as they spoke, his crew jumped into place, matched speed and began their assault upon the enemy vessel’s shielding. It took many long microns to penetrate the shielding, but eventually it flickered and came down. Just before they targeted the ship’s engines, it seemed to grab energy out of nowhere and surged ahead at speeds Meric had never seen before.
“Gods of chaos, what was that?”
Calen glanced at his brother. “I have never encountered a vessel with such speed.”
An ugly memory tugged at the back of Meric’s mind. The only ship he’d seen with that kind of power was the Queen Mother’s royal battleship. This Moltan ship was nothing like a royal battleship, though. Few had seen the Queen Mother but word of her exploits had spread through the fleet. Those hastily whispered words were pure treason. Taking a deep breath, Meric consoled himself with the fact that their ruthless Queen Mother was trapped in a sector of space, thousands of light years away. Even traveling at the speed her ship was reputed to possess, she could not arrive in his lifetime.
Pushing away the fear that she might have discovered an unknown, naturally occurring wormhole or figured out how to artificially create one, Meric wasn’t willing to even entertain the idea of the symbionts invading this sector. They would prey on innocent worlds, killing their queens and forcing their males into bondage. The Queen Mother would expand her control, wiping away everything that made being free in this sector of space worthwhile.
“Sir, are you well?”
Looking up, he saw every male on the bridge staring at him. “I am trying to figure out where I have seen the technology enabling that kind of speed. I have no wish to alarm you, but beware my brethren. I have only heard of the Queen Mother possessing such technology.”
Sounds of shock rippled through the crew. Calen was the first to speak after a long silence. “What are your orders, sir?”
“We will make repairs on our ship and the two we have captured. Gather any survivors from among the Moltan, for I have questions for them.”
“Do you think the Queen Mother may have found her way to this sector?”
“I pray not, but I will take no chances with the safety of the worlds under our protection. Make repairs quickly. It is our duty to hunt that ship down and find out for sure if this sector is secure. The Moltan have been increasingly aggressive in picking off ships in this sector. There must be a reason they are suddenly so brazen.”
Calen’s stunned voice sounded off. “We should report this to our new home world. They must not be caught unawares.”
“I will not risk speaking of this information over even secured communications frequencies. Let us task a warrior to travel with the Yuroba and deliver the message personally. I’m certain they would consider that fair compensation for rescuing them.”
“What of the human queens in their care?”
Staring down at Calen, Meric spoke carefully. “They are safest on a secure home world. However, queens must be given the right of choosing. Though I wish it were not so, it is the law. Therefore, we have no right to dictate to queens that they seek safety in times of war. They have a right to challenge each other, and even the Queen Mother, should we discover she has breached our space.”
“Our own queen is even now exhausting herself caring for our fallen warriors. Will you not wait until she is finished to speak with her?”
“I fear this cannot wait, my brethren. We will need the wisdom of a queen if we are to have hope of being successful in this mission. Tabor, I would have you take the helm of the first defeated vessel, and Calen the second. I have trust in the sons of Jeron to make haste with the repairs and assist me with the hunt.”
“Death before dishonor, my captain.”
4 Wounded Warriors
Stacy
Overrun with wounded, the entire healing unit was bursting at the seams. Draconian medical teams operated in reverse of human triage teams. They were inclined to treat those with the lesser injuries first, with the intention of putting as many of them as possible back into the battle. Naturally, this resulted in an unacceptably high casualty rate. Stacy had insisted they split it down the middle. Phan and the less experienced healers patched up the warriors with superficial battle wounds and released them. Stacy and her better trained team worked on the most seriously injured. This was their first actual battle, and the new system seemed to be working out well for everyone.
She’d powered through a half dozen serious injuries and settled down to work on a warrior with a dislocated shoulder and fractured sphenoid along his temple. Since the emergency medical personnel had just finished using compression to stop the wound on his other arm from bleeding, she had them massage his dislocation to relax the muscles. She was able to pop the head of the humerus back into the shoulder joint in only a minute, merely by rotating the warrior’s arm. She demonstrated the technique quickly to Phan before he moved on. Stacy was much more concerned about the fracture along the warrior’s temple. She couldn’t help but notice their cranial formation was extremely similar to a human’s, a few more connecting bones being the only difference.
Stacy’s head snapped up when the door to the medical unit slid open yet again. Instead of more wounded, it was just the man she wanted to see. The older battle-scarred warrior stopped for a moment to survey the room, looking for all the world like an ancient god of war. His wings fluttered slightly at the sight of so many of his warriors receiving care, and his horns pointed straight up. The muscle-bound captain caught Stacy’s eye and headed straight for her. Perfect, she had a bone to pick with him. Not stepping away from her patient, she snarled. “You. I want a word with you.”
His feet came to a stuttering stop, and he approached more cautiously than she thought was warranted. When he was at her side, Captain Meric picked up a dermal healing unit and began closing a gash on the warrior’s other shoulder. Stacy kept working on the fracture in his right temple.
“What is your wish, my queen?”
“What do you freaking think? A heads-up regarding a battle brewing would have been nice. If it’s not too much trouble, an indication of the extent of casualties to expect would enable us to better serve your crew.”
Without looking up from his task, he murmured submissively, “You will be done, my queen.”
“That’s all you have to say about this fiasco?”
Glancing up at her, his horns slid back against his head, and his wings folded into a tight knot behind his bulky shoulders. “I will not fail you in this regard again.” The inflection of his voice made it sound more like a question than a statement or a promise. He was clearly groping the dark for the response she wanted to hear. His demeanor and body posture were strangely closed off.
Dropping the bone-mending laser in favor of the one designed to heal skin, she continued working on the warrior, who was growing ever-more-uncomfortable with their disagreement.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m trying to reduce the number of casualties. I need your help to do that.”
“I will present myself for scourging, if it pleases you.”
Letting out a weary laugh, Stacy couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re hilarious for such an uptight warrior.” Glancing up she s
aw that he was standing with his eyes on the floor. The warrior they were working on had his eyes closed and a nearly tragic look on his face. Try as she may, Stacy could not figure out what was going on.
“Why are you not laughing? Is it considered rude to laugh at your own joke?”
“I have been scourged many times, my queen. Though the queens enjoyed themselves immensely, I take no pleasure in having my flesh torn open.”
Dropping the device on the hovering platform, she gaped at the taciturn captain. “Let me get this straight. Were you honestly asking if I wanted to physically abuse you?” Holding up one hand, she shook her head. “Forget I even asked. Human women don’t have people scourged. We’re not like that.” Looking him over, a suspicion grew in her mind. “I thought those were battle scars. Are they a result of being intentionally harmed by your former queen?”
The room grew quiet. The captain lifted his chin in a defiant fashion. “Most were doled out by my queen for various offences. I was a breeder for many years.” His lip slid back from his left fang slightly in what could be considered a gesture of disdain. “I can take whatever punishment you deem appropriate for my oversight.”
Reaching up to trace her fingers over a brutal scar running along one side of his face, down his neck, and beneath the collar of his uniform, she sighed. “Well sugar, you don’t have to worry about any human woman doing that kind of sick shit.”
He caught her hand in his and removed it from his skin. “If you say it, then it must be true.” His expression spoke volumes about how untruthful he thought her statement to be. It was clear that whoever had tried to exert control over him had failed miserably. He has a subtle rebellious streak, and it ran deep.
He’d been a breeder. She turned that little nugget of information over in her mind, trying to imagine him with children. Some of his scars seemed more recent than others, leading her speculate how old any children he had might be. His dark eyes rarely gave clues to what he was thinking.
Her eyes skated over his body, noting that he didn’t look much like the other warriors. Perhaps that is why he was chosen, because rarity was considered valuable and thus coveted by their former queens. She finally tore herself from her internal musings and spoke to the man staring blandly at her. “Why did you come? Was it to check on your warriors? I can tell you, we had thirty-nine superficial injuries, and they’ve been released. Another twenty-two can leave in a few hours, but the rest will have stay for a day or two.”
“Thank you for sharing that information. I came to speak with you regarding our battle.”
Stacy couldn’t imagine what kind of battle advice the experienced warrior was expecting to get from her. Shocked, she leaned back against the healing platform. “Why in the world would you come to me to talk about battle plans? I don’t know a thing about ships or battling it out with whomever you were fighting today. I’m a doctor.”
“You are the only queen on board this vessel, and we need your guidance.”
“I doubt that’s remotely true. I know my friend Hope took to being a queen, but I’m nothing like her. She knew what she was doing. I’d just be a hindrance.”
“Queens were born to lead.”
“You’re so wrong about that, it’s not even funny. You’re in charge of this vessel. I’m in charge of this medical unit.”
“Will you hear me out? It is urgent.”
Folding her arms over her chest, Stacy eyed the overly serious warrior. He wasn’t like any other Draconian she’d ever met. He was huge, rough-looking and had muscles sitting on muscles. Even with all his scarring, she could see how a woman might have been drawn to him. He admitted to being a breeder. What that actually meant outside of bearing children for a Draconian female, Stacy couldn’t begin to imagine. Yet the way his kind spoke the word breeder, it was dripping with emotion and cultural connotations she didn’t understand. There was still so much they didn’t understand about these dragon warriors.
His body stiffened, and she realized that her eyes had lingered a little too long over his magnificent golden skin. With the long, deep blond hair flowing around his shoulders, he looked much like a ferocious lion with wings. He was the only warrior she’d ever seen with hair, so that set him apart. Jesus, why couldn’t she keep her mind on the conversation at hand? “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say, over dinner. I’ve been at this for hours, and we’ve gotten through the worst of it.”
“That is acceptable.”
She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a reclamation receptacle. Sighing, she waved her hand towards the door. “Lead the way, Captain Meric.”
Taking a respectful step back, he murmured, “I would not presume to walk in front of a queen.”
He had to be the most formal of all the Draconian warriors she’d had the pleasure of meeting, and it was damned irritating. “Fine.” Taking the lead, Stacy suddenly realized that she had blood spatters on her clothing and was in no condition to enjoy a nice meal.
As they walked towards her quarters, she wondered why they insisted upon her taking the huge queen chamber. The gigantic space could easily house a hundred warriors. Waving her hand over the scanning plate, she strolled into the richly appointed space with Meric at her heels.
Several caretakers immediately stood. “Out. We want to be alone.” The shock on their faces was instantly schooled into the blank expressions they normally wore. Palm smacking her forehead, Stacy did a minor course correction. “What I meant to say is we’d like to talk business over dinner.”
Balen bowed his head slightly. “It will be as you wish, my queen.”
“Yep, that seems to be the standard response to any request a woman makes around these parts. I’m going to grab a shower.” When she caught a look at Meric over her shoulder, she could see that he looked pretty uncomfortable being in her personal space. Maybe it brought back bad memories for him. Turning to face him, she gave him a choice. “If you would prefer, we can eat in the dining hall and then meet in a conference room to discuss the battle, or you can order something from the dining hall, and we can talk while we eat. I promise to make my shower quick.”
His deep voice drifted across the room. “All will be as you wish, my queen.”
“My name’s Stacy, Meric. You might want to begin using it.”
She tore her bloodstained clothing off the moment the door to cleansing room closed, and then jumped into the shower and rubbed cleansing foam over her skin and through her hair. After hitting the drying cycle, she finger combed her long strands as the unit dried her body and hair.
She started to put on a uniform, but she thought better of it. At the last moment, she grabbed a long gown instead. Her caretakers pressed gowns on her every day, and she always declined. This was a chance to prove that she was flexible enough to conform to their cultural norms sometimes, though she had no intention of wearing gowns all the time.
Stacy was fortunate to be left alone with her own hygiene for once. The Draconians had men specially trained to groom their queens, and the caretakers were normally pretty persistent. Since she had an almost neurotic need for privacy and alone time, being fussed over by them was a definite no-go for her. She let the thin luxurious garment float over her head, then she brushed the remaining tangles out of her hair and pulled it up off her neck.
Sucking in a deep breath, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. The Draconians were used to having a token female on their ships that they could revere. Because her friend Hope had taken to the role, perhaps they thought she might do the same. Either that, or the captain was interested in courting her and dragging her into their mission was simply a way of getting close to her. Entertaining that thought for a moment, images of his bulging muscles, and golden eyes floated through her mind.
Regardless of how standoffish he was, something about the scarred warrior drew her notice the very moment she first laid eyes on him. She was equal parts annoyed, frustrated, and fascinated by him. Since she’d met most of the unmated males on the Dr
aconian home world and hadn’t taken a liking to any of them, getting to know the one who intrigued her seemed like a pretty good idea.
5 Queens Have the Choosing
Stacy
After walking out to meet him, she found the table had been set with food and he was sitting quietly on the settee with a hand resting on each thigh. His face was expressionless until he looked up at her. His eyes got huge, and he began scanning her from head to toe then abruptly stopped as if realizing he shouldn’t be doing that.
Picking up a data pad on the settee beside him, Meric came swiftly to his feet. He shifted it from hand to hand and seemed like he was going to take a step closer, but he didn’t. She’d never seen him look so nervous.
“You seem anxious. Is everything okay?”
He stammered, “That will be for you to decide, Queen Stacy. If you will have a seat, I will begin giving my report.”
Okay this was getting weird. “Let’s eat as we talk. Unless I miss my guess, with everything that’s been going on, you probably haven’t eaten all day.”
They walked over to the table and sat across from each other. “Warriors can go for days drinking from the hydration pack built into our suits.”
Taking a drink of the sweet tea-like drink they made from roots, Stacy cleared her throat. “I’ve noticed that you wear your armored form suit no matter the danger level. No one else does that.”
Without blinking, he responded in a serious tone. “They should. One never knows when danger will present itself.” Quickly grabbing some food, he put it in the clear shallow box the Draconians used for plates.
Stacy took a minute to be selective. “Can you tell me what the battle was about today?”
“We encountered a Yuroba ship being attacked by non-member species. The Yuroba had queens and little scions on board, so we intervened. Two more of the non-member ships joined the battle. You will be pleased to know that your warriors fought valiantly in defense of the queens and their young.” Glancing away, he continued, “Though we were victorious in battle, one of the three ships escaped our clutches.”
