by Lil Gibson
Prolinc and Carpov were waiting when Zorroc arrived. Prolinc looked churlish while Carpov looked pleased and relaxed. Ridiculously pleased, he realized, on closer inspection. "We will make this meeting a quick one. I am sure we all have places we would rather be; Carpov what do you propose," Zorroc asked, wanting to make this uncomfortable decision as soon as possible.
"The women are still asleep; we could choose several, inject the virus and await possible symptoms. If they begin to have problems, at least they would be unaware of the changes taking place in their bodies and we could keep the ones we experiment on well away from the others, as a precaution. We have another month in space before we reach Ganz giving us plenty of time to evaluate possible side effects. The real problem remains dosage. It will be impossible to match because of the method of administration—injecting the women with the virus versus airborne exposure. The remaining option, of course, is not to inject them. The extensive testing we conducted on earth's atmosphere indicate a better than average chance the earth females will suffer minimal side effects from the virus. Maybe we should do nothing and let nature take its course," Carpov ended, as uncomfortable as his friends with the discussion.
Dee had collected Cat moments before, telling her she'd seen their Gattonians slip away for a meeting. They weren't hard to locate, they normally assembled in the conference room and this night, hadn't even bothered to secure the panel, obviously confident that everyone would be safely tucked into their platmats. Because of the miscalculation, Dee and Cat heard enough of the conversation to freeze their blood. Bad enough, they had taken innocent women, put them into suspended animation, and were speeding toward their home planet with them. Now they discussed the possibility of experimenting on them like laboratory rats. Cat reeled sickeningly. How could she have been so wrong about their motives? The conversation proceeded.
"What if the females have a severe reaction to the serum," Prolinc posed, preoccupied with how this could affect Dee.
"We would jettison them while asleep, it would be the kindest and safest thing to do all around." Zorroc stated thinking of Cat. If he had his way, he would jettison the serum. Discussing the possibility of testing the females before they procured them, proved daunting enough, but now, with identifiable faces and distinct personalities to take into account, combined with the strong instinct to protect those under their care; made the situation they contemplated more than he could stomach.
Sirens began to sound all around them as the ship jerked sharply to the left then jarred and shuttered. "We are under attack!" Zorroc shouted incredulously. "Carpov, get those women out of suspended animation and assign crew members to care for them. They are helpless in their current state. They will be confused, disoriented, and frightened with all this noise and their current situation; instruct the crewmembers to turn on the charm.
"Prolinc, secure our females, I will get to the main deck and determine our situation. Do not be long, Prolinc, meet me on deck as soon as you can; I will silence those damned alarms." He strode purposefully from the room tripping over Cat and Dee, in the process of scrambling to gain their footing; they had been knocked off their feet with the ships unexpected jarring. He realized they must have listened in on the meeting and cursed his carelessness but could not waste time worrying about his oversight. He grabbed Cat by her upper arm, secured Dee with his other hand, and barked at Prolinc to grab Angel from Carpov's quarters; he had found the other two.
He proceeded to march them quickly toward his destination. "What in the hell is going on," Cat screamed, dragged at a run beside Zorroc. Dee had a slightly easier time of it, with longer legs, but still maintained a trot in order to keep up. She occupied herself trying to evaluate the situation and how she could contribute. A sudden decent occurred that would have knocked Cat and Dee to the ground again if not for Zorroc's firm grip.
Dee's mind worked on the ramifications of this latest crisis. They were under attack and Prolinc was head of security and guardian to Zorroc, she needed a quick weapons lesson in order to back him up, not that he didn't have his own people, but she had more of a vested interest in him. After the conversation she and Cat had just overheard, she had not even begun to make him as miserable as she now intended. Zorroc threw them into the jet-quik and propelled them to the main control level. The deck constituted a study in chaos. A fire loomed directly in front of them; Zorroc grabbed a flask from the wall and extinguished the growing flames like it happened regularly.
"The situation Sycor, now," Zorroc demanded, as he stormed into the main control room with Cat and Dee in tow. He proceeded to the main board and punched in the numbered sequence required to silence the warning sirens. He checked the console to confirm that the shields remained up and holding then checked an adjoining screen to assess the damage to the ship. It had to have been a well-planned trap to catch them so off guard, which meant only one thing. Dargons—the ruthless warrior race with no discernable ethics, morals, or rules except to destroy all in their path.
A sudden explosion sent Dee and Cat to the floor again, while the main COM started smoking, setting off another series of alarms. He had a bad feeling about the survival of his ship; it lurched at an odd angle that did not bode well for it or them. How had the Dargons located them? Had they known of their mission to earth? That sounded impossible.
Sycor met his gaze with somber clarity. "The news is bad, it was an ambush, and I think it is clear by whom. The ship will not survive. I have scouted available planets reachable by trans-pad and Pod and there are three. My recommendation is to transport to all three, spreading out as much as possible. We will be harder to track and if one group does get hit the others will have a better chance for survival. I think they are too far out to have us on visual, but if they do; our tails are cooked. Our beacons are untraceable to anyone but our own people and I have sent a COM to Gattonia apprising them of our situation and location; we have food and survival equipment for three weeks, which should leave adequate time for rescue," he summarized gravely.
"Make preparations to abandon ship as soon as possible, we cannot take a chance with our female cargo." Zorroc turned and spoke into the COM. "Carpov, I need an update, we have to prepare to abandon ship with all speed; how are the females faring?"
"They are awake, some are adjusting better than others, we will begin herding them toward the Pods with all speed, where is Angel?"
Zorroc whipped his head around to search for their females; Prolinc emerged with Angel and his gaze met and locked with Zorroc’s. A message passed between them before Prolinc left again to implement evacuation plans. "She is safe, Carpov, and anxious to see you from the look of her. Which Pod are you headed for; I will have one of the crew deliver her to you." Zorroc noticed the mating tattoo visible on her neck and knew the reason for Carpov's earlier mood and present concern. "And Carpov, your mating has been witnessed."
Angel, Dee, and Cat huddled together trying to stay out of everyone's way. "We need weapons," whispered Dee, "and someone to instruct us quickly. If we get separated, swear to me you will be armed." Cat gauged the seriousness of their situation by Dee's level of focus, which had streaked past the next reality somewhere.
"We swear," promised Cat and Angel in unison. "But let's solve that little problem by not getting separated to begin with," Angel proposed.
"We may not have a choice considering the circumstances," Cat replied. She couldn't have been more correct. A member of the crew took Angel to be evacuated; then someone came for Dee leaving Cat alone with Zorroc, feeling frightened and unsure. Gattonians poured out of the control room like cats escaping a monsoon. Zorroc, cool under fire, calmly issued orders and tracked the progress of the evacuation teams, memorizing each location of the evacuees. Sycor entered and motioned that it was time for their departure, the ship was losing ground quickly. The three descended to the trans-pad where about ten women waited. She recognized Bandoff, as he attempted to calm the confused and frightened women. Sycor pushed a sequence of buttons on h
is wristband and they exited the failing vessel.
The planet, red, barren, and hot, had breathable air but no breeze, and no movement of any kind, not a bird, a tree, a cloud, nothing. She felt like she had just fallen into a surreal photograph. Sycor and Bandoff along with three other crewmembers completed their party; the women looking disoriented and worse for wear. She recognized one in particular, the one who had crawled all over Zorroc at the conference, the one they'd had the argument over. Terrific! She'd already begun devouring him with her eyes, smoothing her hair and licking her lips. Out of seventy-three women, why her?
She stood about the same height as Dee, Cat observed objectively, but while Dee was all curves, Sandra had a body more similar to Angels. She had her hair dyed a garish platinum blond and wore too much make-up, which had smeared, in proportion to her ordeal. Couldn't have happened to a nicer sleezette.
Had Zorroc chosen Sandra to accompany their party? He’d seemed very interested at the conference and had clearly changed his mind about joining with her, he’d fled their chamber with lightening quick finality. Maybe he'd chosen the loose shrew instead. Gee, newly awakened Sleeping Beauty stranded on a strange planet with her very own combination of Hans Solo and Chewbacca; what a perfect set up, and with the way she drooled over him, she wouldn't be hard to get either. Fine, she told herself, Sycor would suit her purposes just as well. He was cute, a bodyguard, and someone who could secure a weapon for her and teach her how to use it. Screw Zorroc, she sure would not get the opportunity. She walked away and ignored him while they set up camp.
She spent the following hours worrying about Dee and Angel and where they had landed; she hoped it turned out better than this place because aside from the oxygen, it resembled hell, literally. With thoughts of her promise to Dee ricocheting through her brain, she approached Sycor. "Can I help you with anything, Sycor? I'm sure I could be useful." She never had learned how to flirt. Sycor looked unsure but not opposed to her advance.
"Everything is under control, Catarina, you should try to rest. The shelter over there is for your use, it will offer some relief from this heat," he finished kindly.
She really did like him.
Zorroc wondered at his intended's mood as he worked to set up camp and appease the females. Sandra clung to him like a barnacle while he focused on Cat and Sycor with the same intensity that Sandra had fastened herself onto him.
"Sycor, I know you're busy just now but I have a favor to ask." She lowered her voice to a honey cream texture, Sycor's eyes widened. She moved closer and touched his arm. "I made a solemn vow to Dee that if we got separated, I’d be armed with a weapon and instructed on its usage. I’ve had extensive training with hand guns and lasers, so I'm sure I’d be a quick study."
The Gattonians seemed the type to be into vows. Certain she'd hit upon the right tact, she continued…only he looked slightly hunted. She took a step closer. "I’d hoped you could provide me with a weapon and instruct me," she finished, looking straight into his horrified eyes. As she registered his expression, she also noticed the air behind her had begun to churn. Sycor backed away mumbling about work and survival.
"May I be of assistance, Catarina," Zorroc challenged from behind her. He had telepathed Sycor's demise if he came within four feet of his mate again. Sycor had received the message. Zorroc further messaged to get that she tornika, Sandra, off his back, permanently, by whatever means necessary. Sycor scrambled to intercept the problem before it could approach the couple.
"Excuse me, I think your witch went that-a-way, I’m busy just now." She took two steps before Zorroc threw her over his shoulder and escorted her to their shelter. She parked her bony elbow in his back while the palm of her hand cradled her chin; she didn't bother to comment or struggle.
The shelters had taken on the colors of the landscape making them almost impossible to detect by an enemy. He lowered her to the ground mat and secured the shelter opening. Cat looked around and noticed it was really quite spacious. Tall enough so Zorroc could stand up straight and move around, it resembled a large tee pee. It was also noticeably cooler within. How did they manage that, Cat wondered idly while watching her cat man…put on another strip show? She couldn’t take her eyes off him. His gaze bore into hers with concentrated thoroughness. Cat began to get nervous. "What are you doing Zorroc, practicing your technique for the wicked witch of the east?"
He stilled and tilted his head in the feline gesture native to his race then smiled and began to close in on her. "You are jealous, little Cat, it is unnecessary. The only interests I have are getting us safely to Gattonia and feasting on you. The feast will come first; you have run out of time to prepare. My aunts have assured me it is safe to take you and take you I will."
She realized with dawning clarity how perfectly his chiseled features matched his uncompromising manner, and with those twin axioms directed unflinchingly in her direction, she felt her will crumble under the force of his. He wanted her, he’d said; well, he could have what he wanted, but first she needed answers and assurance.
"We have issues to resolve Zorroc; for instance, how are you going to conduct your Dr. Jeckel/Mr. Hyde experiments now that your female rats are awake, or will it matter?" she accused, her gaze tracing over every inch of him. It proved almost impossible to concentrate with his scent and form sending her into sensory paradise. However, responsibility for the women rested solely with her and she wouldn't let them be further jeopardized—hell, they might not survive their current situation, come to think of it. Who attacked them, anyway? She just had too many questions and concerns with no definitive answers.
He read her guilt and distress concerning the women. Cat took too much responsibility for things completely beyond her control; he would ease her mind first and then her body. "There will be no experiments on the females; the serum perished with the ship. I doubt we would have tried it in any case; we were uncomfortable with that option. We will, therefore, implement our second plan. I will answer the questions of your mind later, Catarina; right now I intend to address the ones your body has been asking of mine." Naked and hard, he advanced on her. He placed one hand on her upper thigh, fingers splayed, with his thumb grazing the place between her legs. His other worked her hair free of the pins that had been unsuccessfully securing her unruly mane.
"You tried to answer those questions once before but got cold feet and ran away. Why do you think this time will be different?" she breathlessly inquired as he began to undress her. He moved faster this time as if he couldn't wait to get at her. He was so large. Would she be able to take him, she wondered, staring blatantly at his erection.
"Your body will be well prepared, my cream, you can be certain of that. You can and will take all of me," he promised as he feasted his eyes on her perfectly compact figure.
"Were you reading my mind or was the question in my eyes?" she asked as he peeled her boots, socks, and jeans from her.
"Yes." He smirked with secret satisfaction as he slowly eased her panties down, devouring her with a look. As he lifted her top over her head, her hair flew in all directions. She looked like a miniature Valkyrie, fierce and feminine; she wore no bra. He had been focused on her breasts the entire day, wondering at the natural flow of their movement and their occasional budded peaks. When he laid her down, her hair flared around her in disarray, her skin glistened, creamy and warm to his touch, and her emerald eyes glowed with curiosity and anticipation—she wanted him. He spoke softly to her as he explained what would occur and what he would do to her. "In our previous lessons I touched you with my hands and you touched me with yours; now I will follow my hands with my mouth. You will be pleased."
He proceeded to demonstrate. His hands gently stroked her neck while his mouth seduced hers demanding entrance. How could a kiss be overpowering and entreating at the same time? She felt weightless and defenseless, willing to let him do anything to relieve the pressure building inside her. When she opened for him, his tongue began to plunge into her mouth showing her h
is internal rhythm. His hands moved to her breasts that were large in proportion to rest of her body.
He massaged her globes then worked her nipples until they drew up into hard rosy buds he could not wait to taste. She groaned deep in her throat as he replaced a hand with his mouth, suckling and licking until she writhed helplessly. He told himself to proceed slowly; he wanted to make sure she stayed with him for every step of this dance. Leaving his hands on her breasts he began kissing and nipping her ribs and stomach slowly working toward her abdomen giving special attention to her belly button. Cat headed toward sensual overload; Zorroc read in her fevered mind.
"Not this time, Catarina, you will stay with me, do you understand?" When he mindspoke to her, she stilled. That cooled her off a little, Zorroc smiled to himself; let her concentrate on that for a while as he prepared her body for the taking. He moved slowly down her body while issuing instructions. "Bend your knees and spread your legs far apart, I am going to taste you, my cream." He put a pillow under her hips and spread her legs even further.
"Zorroc, please, I don't know what to do," she panted, wetting her lips in an unconscious gesture of pure sin.
She had a sheen of sweat coating every part of her. He nudged her nether lips apart exposing the nub nestled there and looked his fill, then his eyes raised and locked with hers. "Do not worry, it will come to you. Now I will pleasure us both." He put his mouth onto the entrance of her. His tongue licked her inside and out, feasting and sucking. She tasted like ambrosia and he was instantly addicted. Cat began to hitch and shake uncontrollably, grabbing onto the mat for stability. Then he began to purr into her, his tongue plunging rhythmically until she bucked straight up and emitted a long keening moan. Zorroc didn't halt his assault as she climaxed into his mouth. He lapped and drank as she continued to convulse.
It was too much; he had lost her again. It was better this way, he decided as he rose up and prepared to enter her, maybe she would not feel the pain of her hymen being perforated on his claiming. Above all things, he wanted her to never know pain from him. He plunged into her with one sure thrust; his mind reading hers to discern her level of discomfort but it continued in its foggy state. Waiting for her to come back to him before proceeding approached torture but he willed himself still. Filling and stretching her until he imagined his cock butting her womb, she cradled him in hot, wet euphoria. Sweat broke out on his brow; with all of his training and experience in the ways of pleasure; she made him feel like an untried youth. He nestled the pulse point on the side of her neck and she sighed. She reached to entwine her fingers with the hair on the back of his scalp and then closed her small hand into a tight fist trapping him for her kiss. Her other hand began a slow exploration of his shoulders, arm and back, reveling in the power of his body, compounded by his powerful reaction to her touch. She took the lead and began kissing, licking, and nipping him first on his lips then his cheeks, neck, and earlobe. Inwardly he groaned. He needed to take control or the deed would be finished before it had begun. He began to move.
