TICEES

by Mills, Shae

  Korba frowned. “I don’t know how you can walk in those things.”

  Chelan hugged into him, nipping at his neck easily at her new height. “Walking may not be ideal, but wait till you see what else I can do in them,” she whispered seductively.

  She stepped back and smiled flirtatiously, biting her lip, and for the first time she thought she saw her man’s skin flush.

  And he was indeed ablaze. Korba had no problem picturing her long, lean, naked body exposed before him in nothing but those shoes, and a potent, carnal image suddenly exploded across his brain. Stripping her naked and splaying her across the control panels surged into his mind, and the restraint it took to keep from acting on his impulse while ordering the men from the room nearly staggered him.

  Chelan grinned. “My tour, my Lord,” she reminded.

  Korba took a deep and strained breath. He reached for her and drew her close, lowering his lips to her ear. His voice was a devious, low rumble. “Next time, my Lady ... I will take you in front of my men.”

  Chelan pressed her cheek close to his. “If you do, my Lord, I may invite them to play.”

  Korba straightened and grinned down at her. “Watch what you say. You could get more than you bargained for.”

  Chelan purred. “We shall see, my Lord. But I sincerely feel that you would not chance such an interplay with your men.”

  His eyes flared, heat detonated throughout his body, a blast erupting that could only be quenched by drowning in her wet silk. His ardor was further fanned by the thought of the other men attempting to partake in the depths that he knew so well, the depths he considered his, and his alone, Fremma aside. Despite nearly divine governance over his body, the thought of bloody battle entwined with the pleasure only she could offer set him off. He clenched his teeth as he attempted to will his body to stand down. But if she even twitched, he was going to take her so hard even his men would be shocked. And god help any man who approached him or her in his deranged state.

  Chelan recognized the feral predator she had just unleashed in the wildcat eyes that bore into her. He was pure, raw heat, a sexual menace whose fuse she had just lit, and despite his earlier tease, she knew he would kill any man who even contemplated approaching her at this moment.

  She dared not move a muscle. Shrinking from him would seal her fate, and if she touched him she would fare no better. She knew that despite all his control, he was hard as a rock under his shroud, locked and loaded with her in his sights.

  Regardless of the incendiary nature of the atmosphere, Chelan was ecstatic that she could arouse the beast within him so easily, but now was not the time, nor did she want anyone hurt. She stared back at him with the same rapt intensity. She leaned close to him, her lips only inches from his ear, and in as level a voice as she could muster, she sought to diffuse the situation. “I do not want to be touched by your men, nor do I want anyone killed. When we are alone tonight, you may take me as hard as you dare, but right now you need to command a battleship.”

  Korba’s higher brain functions finally rallied, and his lethal expression fueled by lust and need abated. He drew in a slow, deep breath. “You are my undoing, you know that,” he rumbled.

  Chelan backed from him half a step. “I know that,” she whispered. “But I am not sorry, my Lord.”

  Korba finally tamed his internal storm and restored his composure. But what she had just so easily done to him disturbed him. She was a virulent potion that infused into him at the cellular level, a potion that controlled his every thought, his every desire, his every need. In her intoxicating grip, he was nearly powerless.

  Korba finally righted his world and focused on his very rigid men. Then he reached for her hand. “Let’s get up to the Bridge so that I can get on with my duties.” And they were off.

  *****

  Chelan was surprised at how short a walk it was to the Bridge, but then decided that it was only logical. It would be necessary for Korba to have quick access to the very heart and lungs of the massive ship, and it was also wise to have it buried deep within the vessel. Chelan knew there were two Bridges and that this one was topside, while the other was somewhere below her feet, also deep within the soul of the cruiser. She thought about the enormous magnitude of the vessel, and she wondered how Korba got around. Obviously one could not simply walk to wherever one wished, at least not on a 120-km-long ship. Lazen had mentioned a connector earlier, but she hadn’t bothered to ask him about it.

  Chelan did not have time to ask her questions, as they reached the massive doors to the main Command Center. Chelan’s jaw dropped as she stepped inside, the vastness of the Bridge rendering her awestruck. The view she had seen of it when Dar had showed it to her on the scanners had not done it justice.

  The entire room of people snapped to attention as Korba entered; Lazen and his men flowed out to strategic areas and kept a wary eye out for unlikely trouble. But Chelan was as relaxed as she could be under the circumstances, for she knew that Korba had gone to extremes for her, and only a person bent on suicide would dare approach her.

  It was quite possible, however, that she would not have been so carefree if she had realized all the eyes that were on her. But she was too busy taking in all the screens and displays to notice.

  Korba remained still, watching her carefully. Satisfied that she was not going to become overwhelmed by his crew’s close scrutiny, he walked over to the command chair and paused once again. He smiled, tickled by her obvious enchantment with his ship and the new technology she was absorbing prodigiously.

  Tarn was also watching the bewitching alien closely, his eyes riveted to the beauty that had been snatched from him not so long ago. But Korba roused him from his thoughts as he tapped the First Officer on the shoulder.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Tarn croaked, startled back to dismal reality.

  “You may be excused, Tarn,” Korba said softly. He studied his officer closely; the man remained very still.

  “Yes, my Lord,” he finally replied as he collected himself. But he remained unmoving, his eyes falling back on Chelan.

  Korba continued to watch his man, feeling for him and what he had lost. After all, it was Tarn who brought the beauty on board, no doubt expecting to have had more contact with her than had been allowed. Korba looked around the Bridge, realizing that all the crew’s eyes were on them as everyone watched the interplay between the two Commanders.

  Chelan finally tore her gaze from a holographic display and turned around seeking Korba. Her smile faded quickly as she looked into Tarn’s indecipherable eyes.

  “My Lady,” he nodded.

  Chelan shifted her weight uneasily. “Tarn,” she acknowledged quietly.

  Tarn approached her slowly, and for a moment their eyes locked. “You look well, my Lady.”

  Chelan averted her gaze. “Thank you. You too.”

  Tarn was silent for a long time, and finally he broke the uncomfortable hush. He reached for her hand and kissed it, his eyes never leaving her face.

  Chelan was completely unnerved by the gesture, but she did not have time to wallow in uncertainty, as Tarn turned abruptly from her and vacated the Bridge. Chelan watched him leave, floundering in feelings of relief mixed with disappointment.

  Korba called to her in English, startling her from her muddled thoughts. “Chelan, it’s all right. He’s gone. And you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ve spoken to him and explained the situation. And if you have ever worried for his safety, I assure you that there is no reason to. I am not going to lop off his head. He is too valuable a man to me.”

  “You’ve always known?” she asked cautiously.

  “Your reactions betrayed him to me one day, my Lady. You flinched when you heard his name mentioned in conversation.” Korba smiled at her. “I should have known that you would have chosen one of my officers, and one of the best. Your tastes would dictate to you no less.”

  Chelan blushed in embarrassment, and Korba chuckled. “Now, come here so I can get busy�
�—he hesitated as he glanced around at his immobile crew—”and my trusted entourage can get back to operating this thing.”

  Chelan peered about, suddenly aware of the supreme stillness and all the eyes upon her. She moved to his side quickly.

  Korba signaled to his crew in the silent battle language and, immediately, all turned and set back to their tasks.

  Chelan watched as Korba picked up a handheld screen and began looking over a continual flow of codes. “Does Ticees know about me?” she asked unexpectedly, still in English.

  Korba did not look at her. “No.”

  “How come?”

  “Because all the communiqués to the Empire from the RIBUSes have to go through Dar or me, and we have not allowed it.”

  Chelan smirked. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Korba smiled, still looking down at the codes. “I know.”

  Chelan squirmed, feeling like punching him for his deliberate baiting, but she composed herself. “If you spring me on him when we reach Iceanea, he’ll probably have me executed.”

  Korba chuckled but did not reply.

  Chelan shuffled closer to him, agitated by his unwillingness to cooperate with her. She was not going to give up. “If you walked off this ship and found your Emperor with an alien on his arm for a mate, what would you think?” she asked in a whisper.

  Korba finally looked at her, his eyes devious. “I would think he had gone mad.” Chelan’s eyes widened and Korba grinned. “But I think it would be unwise of me to execute her, don’t you?”

  Chelan frowned, and Korba shook his head at her. “Don’t worry, Chelan, he’s not going to have heart failure, and he’s not going to stuff you in a dungeon somewhere. He’s a loyal and trusted friend. He trusts my judgment and abides by my choices, be they pertaining to the battlefield or to the heart.”

  Chelan remained silent, mulling over his words. She looked about the Bridge, sizing up each crewmember individually as her mind sorted through a myriad of questions. Suddenly, Toran popped into her thoughts. He was another Warlord she knew of, the Commander of RIBUS 6 on a mission very far away. He, along with Korba and Dar, were the Empire’s most exalted Warlords, the triad that formed the foundation of the Empire’s entire fighting force. Without them, Ticees was severely weakened. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her. She looked back at Korba, his eyes once again on the codes. “What’s Toran look like?”

  Korba was surprised by her mental gymnastics, and he suppressed an overpowering urge to turn her over his knee and paddle her bottom, but he remained expressionless. With his eyes still on his work, he answered flatly. “He looks like me.”

  “Half the ship looks like you. If I had to fill out a description for our police department on a suspect, they would have to arrest nearly every man on this vessel, save Dar.”

  Korba shook his head slowly. “No,” he emphasized. “I mean, he looks like me.” Korba glanced into Chelan’s expectant eyes. “He’s from a similar genetic line, and I guess you could say that he looks like a brother. He’s of very fine stock.”

  Chelan allowed a devilish grin to creep across her face. “Will I meet him?”

  Korba turned directly to her and lowered the codes. “Probably. Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she goaded. “Maybe I’m just contemplating two Warlords for the price of one.”

  “Oh?” returned Korba, obviously amused by her answer. “And just what do you hope to gain by that?” he asked slyly.

  Chelan hesitated. “Maybe I just want you to understand my feelings and the actions I levied against Lena.”

  Korba’s lip quirked. “Be cautious, my Lady, when it comes to affairs of the heart and your potent feelings of possessiveness. I am no longer immune to those emotions myself. Just remember that your strong feelings are backed by words. My strong feelings of possessiveness and protectiveness over you are backed by actions.”

  Chelan suddenly paled. “I was only kidding,” she blurted hurriedly. “I would do nothing to hurt you or to cause injury to another.”

  Korba winked at her. “I know.” He turned from her slightly, his eyes still fixed on her, his face becoming serious. “But I am not kidding.”

  Chelan’s heart skipped several beats, and she held her breath. She was not sure if she felt honored by his words of passionate protectiveness or worried by them. She looked away, a knot forming her stomach. “I don’t think I want to meet Toran,” she mumbled.

  Korba glanced at her as he began running over a list of statistics presented to him by one of his men. “Yes, you do. He is a fine man, and I will entrust you to him if ever Dar and Fremma are absent.”

  Chelan looked at him sternly. “I hope he appreciates your desire for him to babysit.”

  Korba finished with the list and handed it back to the man. “I’m sure he will, as all my other babysitters have fallen under your bewitching spell. I know that he will not be an exception.”

  Chelan relaxed slightly. It was obvious that Korba had thought about everything pertaining to her future, and she decided that it was probably in her best interest just to sit back and enjoy the rest of her rounds with him.

  *****

  The day seemed short, and so did all the days of her first busy week. But Chelan’s nights were also short … far too short. She had tried many times in the past, all rather unsuccessfully, to alter her twenty-four-hour clock to the thirty-two-hour Iceanean day, and as usual, it was taking its toll. Korba often worked twenty-eight of the thirty-two hours, returning to his chambers for rest during the Iceanean night. But of those remaining hours, he only required about two hours of sleep, if that. When he had first returned after the Rigilean conflict, he had required much more, and Chelan had always been fully rested. Now she was sleeping only four hours out of every thirty-two with Korba by her side.

  Before Korba’s return she had not been as aware of the time periods, as she simply slept when she wanted and needed. Although she had always been keenly aware of Dar and Fremma’s odd hours and of how little sleep they actually required, it had never affected her directly. Now the week with Korba was beginning to drain her, but she was determined to ignore her fatigue. The technology was fascinating, and she didn’t want to miss a second of it.

  Korba, however, was more than cognizant of her trouble. And he was sharply aware of her irritating habit of enduring whatever it took to be with him regardless of the expense to herself. She had always suffered in silence, no matter what the affliction, mental or physical. His mind went back to her illness, the insidious space fever that had gnawed away at her fragile body, yet she’d sought no help. And her encounter with Solis … The Commander had reported that she had never cried out through the entire ordeal. She had remained mute, unwilling to expose herself and the men responsible for her clandestine concealment to him. Instead, she accepted her fate silently. As a result, Korba knew she would continue to follow him until she dropped from sheer exhaustion, determined to be as strong as he was, even though millennia of genetics and evolution worked against her.

  It was only one short week until they docked on Iceanea, and Korba decided to give up his command to Tarn once again to be with Chelan. That way he could make sure that she had adequately recovered before encountering the shock of his world. Besides, the last week had given him the information he sought to acquire by observing his people’s reactions and interactions with his mate, and on the whole, he was elated.

  There had been no problems, and both the men and the women of the ship seemed anxious to be in her company. Korba knew that his crew was drawn to her first out of curiosity about the woman their Warlord had chosen to Let, but once they got to know her, Korba could see the same spark in their eyes that she elicited from all whom she touched. Soon they talked easily with her, laughing with her while respecting her status as the great Warlord’s mate.

  Chelan seemed to enjoy the freedom she now had along with all her newfound company. And Korba watched as she forged several binding friendships on thei
r travels. But he was also curious to note that all the people she chose to induct into her sphere of friends were men. Though many of the women of his crew admired her and tried to remain within her circle of confidence, Chelan always avoided getting too close to them.

  Korba had been perplexed by this originally, and he wondered why she allowed a closeness with his men and not his women; he’d assumed she still retained her innate and nurtured distrust of men. But he soon analyzed the situation correctly. Chelan held the Iceanean males totally separate from the men of her world. Though his men were aggressive, ruthless warriors, they were true gentlemen in her eyes. The extent of her trust was amazing considering her brutal encounter with Dar’s Second-in-Command, Solis. But Chelan had always blamed herself for that ordeal, a case of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Chelan’s biggest fear, a well-founded fear, had always been of the sexual aggression that could be waged on her at any moment on Earth. But here, onboard the decks of RIBUS 7, that peril was nonexistent.

  Korba’s women were another matter. Though Chelan had tried to embrace them, he suspected she saw all their advances as threatening to her and to her role as his mate. Though he wished she would strike up some female alliances, she would not, and finally Korba quit pressuring her. He knew there would be times on Iceanea when the women of his world would be a comfort to her, and possibly a little more understanding of some of her feelings. But Chelan remained steadfast in her determination to keep them at a safe distance from her and from her precious Warlord.

  With time, Korba accepted her protectiveness of him and realized that her original experiences and interactions with Marri and Lena had no doubt tainted her thinking. Though she said she trusted his fidelity, he knew that, deep down, Chelan was never sure. Keeping his women away from her was her way of keeping them away from him, a fact he simply had to accept.

  Regardless of her wariness of the ship’s women, Chelan had indeed proven to be an all-around diplomat, and her gentle ways had gone far to intrigue if not impress his people. Word had spread fast about her ease and warmth, and even those who had not met her respected her and felt a kinship with her.