Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  “They are up there. Hurry.”

  They rushed toward the plaza, and threaded through transports and people, finally entering a crowded store.

  “We’ll be much harder to track on foot. Except…” He paused.

  “Except what?”

  “If they are from Sirn, they could have your id chip code.”

  She swallowed hard. “I have a chip?”

  “A small one. It only transmits a short distance, so I thought it was benign. I should have taken it out. They must have more sensitive equipment than I do. It took me forever to find you.” He took a deep breath and hugged her tight. “At least I found you first. We’ll be all right. I think if we follow this down we can take one of the high-speed glides.”

  They took a down glide. Far above her she thought she saw the uniformed men.

  Kaistril was speaking into his com. “We’re taking the zed level glide. A transport from the ship should meet us. They’ll be well-armed. We need a medic.”

  They hurtled across the sphere on a fast glide and Kaistril watched for his brother’s and the soldiers. A transport, larger than most that flew through the interior of the Hub, pulled right up to them, scattering gliders and pedestrians. Kaistril grabbed her under the arms and pushed her toward the open door. Strong hands grabbed her and Kaistril clambered on after her.

  Kyler, looking angry and frightening, asked, “Are they following her code or her appearance?”

  Kaistril looked at his com. “Both, actually. Her code is scrambled here. Too many magnetic fields in the area.”

  “Go. Trouble.” Kyler barked to the pilot

  Kaistril practically dragged her to a seat.

  “Strap down.” That was Karvar, who was also in the transport.

  Sabralia strapped herself into a harness with fumbling fingers. What now?

  The transport took off, braking and speeding through the traffic with nauseating speed. Sabralia shut her eyes, waiting for a collision.

  “Here, this will do.” The transport pulled into a small, empty loading dock. Karvar leaped out of his seat and approached Sabralia with a med bag.

  “We need to get that chip out, Sabralia,” Kaistril said. “I think they know we have the films. Or suspect it. We need to get them back to New Prague. They will be a great help.”

  Karvar cleared his throat, then turned to Kaistril. “I thought I could remove the id chip here in the transport. Then we can get her onto the ship and off-hub without being detected.”

  “Good plan.” Kaistril got out of his seat. “I’ll hold your hand, Sabra. Karvar can give you an anesthetic so it doesn’t hurt.”

  Karvar popped a capsule under her nose, and she got dizzy immediately.

  “It is in your upper arm, did you know?” She shook her head.

  “I knew, but I thought its signal was so weak it wouldn’t matter, so I didn’t remove it while we were on the ship.” Kaistril lifted her arm and pulled up the loose sleeve of her dress. He showed her a tiny hard spot on the back of her upper arm, something she’d never noticed before.

  “Hold her still.” Karvar pressed a small device against the spot. She felt nothing. They applied a newskin over the small wound.

  “Commander, we have been detected. Shall I begin evasive maneuvers?” the pilot asked.

  “Affirmative.”

  The brothers leaped back into their seats, and the transport took off with a jerky, hard turn. Weapon fire rained upon them for a short burst.

  “Head for a busy plaza!” Kaistril barked. “I can jump with the emitter, lose it, then return to New Prague on public transport. You get Sabralia to the ship and get off-hub.”

  “Public transport? Why don’t we just lose the chip and all leave together?” Kyler protested.

  “The chip has to be kept at body temperature, or they’ll know it has been detected.”

  Kyler snorted. “Give it to me. You’re still underweight and need your rest, you idiot.”

  “You’re right.” Kaistril smiled. “I’d rather be with Sabra, anyway, to make sure you two don’t think up some other stupid scheme.”

  “Sorry, Kaistril. And you, too, Sabralia,” Karvar, cheeks red, held a small tube to Kyler’s arm and struck a button. He then sealed the small wound. “Just dig it out with your knife when you want to. It’s shallow.”

  “Here’s your credit stick,” Kaistril shoved the small device into Kyler’’s hand and he slid it into his com.

  “Give me your cloak,” Kyler said to Sabralia. She shrugged it off and he threw it over his clothing. It looked ridiculous, being far too small, with feminine ruffles along the bottom edge.

  “Don’t say a word,” Kyler said to his brothers with a scowl. The ship jerked to a halt and Kyler leaped out the door into a thick crowd below, the cloak flapping. “Go!” he shouted as they pulled up.

  Two levels up, as Sirn’s men followed Kyler down several levels, they all left the transport at a trade station and scattered into several small transports. “Do some sightseeing, return to the ship in a couple hours or so.” Kaistril said.

  Chapter Ten

  Sabralia couldn’t keep her hands off Kaistril, and he didn’t seem to mind, pulling her into doorways and along the side of buildings for kisses. Her heart was full of delight at being with him, at his health and vitality, so different than when she’d last seen him.

  “I explained everything to my brothers. They thought you were a security risk.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That you were my woman.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips and she melted against him, blood churning. “I wish we could be alone,” Kaistril whispered into her ear. “We have nearly an hour before we need to grab a transport.”

  Sabralia slid her hands up his chest, relishing the feel of his hard body under her fingers. “Come with me. I have a room. Plus, I want to get my belongings.” She dragged him by the hand to her micro sleep room a few plazas away.

  Last night she had cried herself to sleep, thinking she might never see him again, and now he was here with her, healthy, vigorous. And he couldn’t keep his hands off her, either.

  He wrapped his arms around her as they moved on a walkway, and tapped on his arm com. “I’m letting them know we have some important things to do, so we’ll be there when we get there.”

  “So we don’t have to rush?”

  He pulled her in front of him so her back rested against him, with his arms wrapped around, his lips at the soft skin of her nape. “No rushing. We need to celebrate.”

  They made it to her room, quickly. There was barely room for both of them to stand on the small floor space in front of her bunk. “You lay down first. I went shopping and I was thinking about you. I want you to see what I bought,” Sabralia said.

  Kaistril tossed his clothing onto the floor and stretched on the tiny bunk. Sabralia took off her dark blue gown, and the long pantaloons under it, all the while enjoying the sight of his long lean body on the small bunk. He was already hard, his length standing up proud.

  Next to her skin, she wore a pink fuzzy sheath, some type of stretchy, fuzzy lace. It cupped her breasts, forming deep cleavage. It had a slit opening at the crotch.

  “That is amazing,” he said.

  “I bought several. Some have leggings. They are designed to keep you warm. I thought they would be nice in the colonies.”

  Kaistril sat up and pulled her to him so his face was right in her cleavage. “You’re not going to the colonies.”

  “No?” she asked softly.

  “No. You are coming home with me. You’ll share my quarters on the ship, and you’ll share my rooms at my mother’s palace.”

  “Palace?” Her voice squeaked and Kaistril chuckled, dragging her on top of him so his erection was trapped against her soft stomach covered in the silky fuzzy lace.

  “I guess I forgot to tell you my mother is the Protectorate of New Prague.”

  His hands were gliding softly up and down her backside, drawing tingling cir
cles on her bottom.

  “Well, that actually explains a lot.” She feathered her lips against his silky chest hair, reveling in the texture.

  “She’ll annul your marriage to Sirn.”

  Sabralia smiled. “He won’t know where I am, anyway.”

  “But I can’t marry you legally unless you are free of him.”

  Sabralia sat up in shock. “You want to marry me? I thought you wanted to go back to your Tier.”

  His hands cupped her breasts in the silky fuzz. “Not anymore. Now I want to settle in New Prague with my lovely wife and consult with our military. I’m an expert on Sirn’s Cyborgs.”

  “A real marriage? No harem? Children?”

  “Yes, just you and our young. But I’ll bake the sweet buns. I’m a better cook.”

  Tears filled her eyes and he pulled her down and kissed them away.

  “I love you, Sabra. I want us to be together. I want the life we can build together.”

  She sighed. “That’s what I want, also.”

  With a groan, Kaistril rolled her onto her back. “Want to be inside,” he whispered as his lips trailed along her neck. “It’s been too long.”

  “No more waiting,” she agreed, wrapping her legs around his hips, welcoming his rigid flesh with equal urgency.

  He slid into her in a hard, urgent rush and she met him clutching him to her with her legs and pussy, enjoying his gasp of delight. She met his hard thrusts with undulations of her own, reveling in his strength, in the wild passion between them.

  Later, as they took a private transport to the jump ship Kaistril tapped away on his com.

  “Who are you contacting?” Sabralia asked. She was pleasantly exhausted.

  “Daveed. Letting him know they can have free passage to New Prague and a waiver of immigration wait time if they join us right now. He says yes. Sending him the ship’s location.”

  Sabralia smiled. Free passage and a waiver of wait time would make Daveed and Amira prosperous immigrants.

  They got on board the New Prague ship. Kaistril took care of business, mainly concerning Daveed and his family, and then lead her to his room.

  Karvar met them, but barely greeted them, his eyes glued to his com screen. “Your family suite is ready.” He muttered. “Kyler still hasn’t arrived back at the ship, though all his vitals showed normal on my screen.”

  “Do you think your brother is all right? They haven’t caught him, have they?”

  “No, the signal is good,” Karvar said. “I wired a panic button that will pick up sounds, heart rate, all that. He seems fine.”

  “Kyler is probably having the time of his life zooming around the sphere,” Kaistril said.

  Karvar looked up from the com. “She’s coming with us? Not traveling on?”

  “She’s going to be my wife.”

  “Oh.” Karvar sighed. “Well, if you have a wife, and Kyler has agreed to marry the Chancellor’s daughter, then mother’s going to start arranging my marriage.” He went back to the com, looking depressed. “Kellac found a woman, too.”

  “Life is tough, little brother,” Kaistril said with a chuckle.

  Back in their quarters—a small room with a comfortable bed and separate bathing area—Sabralia said, “Your mother might not think our marriage is such a great idea, since she believes in arranging marriages for her sons.”

  Kaistril snorted. “She can only suggest it. And why Kyler would go along with it I can’t fathom. Probably something to do with Kellac and I disappearing. Kyler’s the oldest. He always thinks he’s responsible for everything. Trying to make some happy family memories, I suspect.”

  “Kellac is another brother?”

  “Yes. He got imprisoned on a Puregen world. It’s a long story. I don’t even know the whole thing.” Kaistril gathered her into his arms and yawned. “I’m not quite recovered yet. Karvar said I would need extra rest for a week or so. I think we’ll have to spend most of the journey in bed.” He grinned.

  Sabralia slid into the comfortable bed with him and rained affectionate kisses over his face. “Your recovery is my number one priority.”

  About The Author:

  Melisse lives in a small town in windswept Wyoming with her husband, cats and beloved dog Baxter. Her college aged daughters whoosh by at light speed with their busy lives. When not reading or writing, Melisse enjoys playing with Photoshop, crocheting, baking, playing ball with Baxter, hanging out in the mountains and watching scifi and paranormal shows on TV.

  Her website: www.melisseaire.com, blog: http://melisseaires.blogspot.com and email: melisseaires@gmail.com

  Join her loop for news of new releases, freebies and contests! http://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/Pure_Escapism/

  REMOVED

  Book ONE of the Nogiku Series

  S. J. PAJONAS

  http://www.spajonas.com

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  © 2013, S. J. Pajonas (Stephanie J. Pajonas).

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design, book design and production, and author photo by S. J. Pajonas (Stephanie J. Pajonas).

  This book is dedicated to all those affected by

  the 2011 earthquake off the Pacific coast of Tōhoku, Japan.

  My love to you all.

  Chapter One

  It’s New Year’s Eve 3103 in Nishikyō, and I’m ready to celebrate my twentieth birthday with my two best friends. Well, almost my twentieth birthday. It’s actually tomorrow, yet I always tend to think of New Year’s Eve as my birthday because that’s when I go out with Helena and Miko. This way we can eat, drink, and be merry as much as we want because everyone but essential services has tomorrow off from work. On the second of January, plans start back up in earnest. No more time off after this — there are too many things to get done before colonization begins next year.

  People in my ward, Ku 9, have been prepping for New Year’s Eve for the past week. Walking by the local Japanese restaurant the last two mornings on my way to work, I could hear the old men and women chattering away while pounding and making mochi. My aunts buy mochi from them and eat it on New Year’s Day after going to the temple for hatsumōde, our first temple visit of the year.

  The streets are cleaner than they have been in months. In fact, I’m sure every apartment in the ward is completely clean. I know I wasn’t the only one on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor this morning. At home, we divided up the work. Aunt Kimie cleaned the bedrooms, and Aunt Lomo got the bathroom. After I was finished, I ran into several neighbors in the alley outside while taking out the trash, and they were all sweaty and dirty, sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Some traditions just never die.

  I take a shower, trying my best not to mess up the bathroom, and pick out my new favorite kimono to wear tonight. I bought this one a month ago with some extra money I had set aside. For having been passed down through so many consignment shops, the kimono is in excellent shape. I only had to repair a few ripped seams under the arms, and I consider that a blessing. The silk fabric is a lovely, bright amber with a darker burnt orange hashmark design that makes the freckles on my nose stand out.

  I have to admit I’m quite attached to those freckles. They remind me of my mother. My mother was Japanese. From her I got my most favorite features including my straight black hair and the freckles. She also gave me her thin figure which I was fine with until two years ago. My Aunt Kimie says I look just like her. My father gave me his wit that always makes Aunt Lomo laugh, his English pale skin, rounder eyes, and the temper I have to keep in check at all times.

  Once I’ve twisted my hair back in a knot, put on a little makeup from Aunt Lomo’s beauty stash, and pulled on the white tabi socks, Aunt Kimie comes into my room through the rice paper screen and helps me into my kimono.


  “Ah, Sanaa-chan. Twenty. Where does the time go? You’re so grown-up now.”

  She sniffs and, oh boy, she’s stopping herself from crying again. I give her a quick hug.

  “Don’t cry, Aunt Kimie. You do this every year.”

  “Don’t make fun of your aunt’s New Year’s Eve tradition, Sanaa-chan,” Aunt Lomo calls from the other room, and we both laugh.

  Aunt Kimie turns to my wall drawers and opens the top one she knows contains the obis. “Which one, Sanaa? The cream?”

  “Hai.” Yes, I love the cream colored obi with the fan design. This was also my mother’s, one of the many things I inherited from my parents when they died. Aunt Kimie wraps the long, heavy silk around me and ties a drum bow in back before wrapping an obijime around my waist. She hands me a fan I tuck in to the front, in case the evening gets hot.

  Aunt Kimie smiles at me and sighs, giving my face a soft pat. “Have fun tonight. Be a good girl. Eat a lot of food and don’t drink too much.”

  “Auntie,” I say with a groan. “Aren’t I always responsible?”

  “Mochiron. Still. You know I always say it.”

  I purposely leave my everyday bag with my tablet in my room, grab my small red silk purse, slip into my geta at the door, and wave as I head out for the night.

  “Don’t wait up!”

  The streets of Ku 9 are filled with people. This may be the Science and Engineering Ward but the local council always sponsors gatherings here for those who don’t want to travel on New Year’s Eve. The sidewalks are a colorful, moving wall of people in kimonos and other citizens in normal Nishikyō wear, the double-breasted gray tunic shirts over loose pants of the same material break up the assault of bright colors swirling around me. I edge past a young couple carrying a small boy who is dressed up in his own little kimono and hakama pants (he is adorable) and head directly down into the transitway before I get sucked into people watching.