TICEES

by Mills, Shae

  “She had given birth early this morning to Shan’s baby, but the baby was stillborn, and in the process of a long and unattended labor, she hemorrhaged.”

  Korba looked into Fremma’s ashen face. “Shan took his son into the Dead Zone, and there he ended his life.”

  Dar hung his head, unable to speak or move.

  Fremma was numb. He still hadn’t come to grips with the fact that Chelan was alive, let alone anything else. He looked toward Korba’s chambers and rose slowly. His mouth was dry, and his legs felt like lead, but he needed to see her. Ignoring Dar and Korba, he moved up the stairs and into the dim light of the chambers. He edged quietly to the bed, and there his eyes beheld the fallen beauty. He slumped to his knees before her. He reached for her, touching her cheek gently, and suddenly his heart erupted simultaneously with joy and sorrow.

  Fremma sat down on the floor and reached under the blankets. He found one of her slender hands, and he held it tightly. He lowered his head to the bed and closed his eyes.

  Dar finally roused himself from his stupor and looked at the disproportionately calm Warlord. “What will you do?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

  Korba looked back him. “Wait,” he said quietly. “Simply wait,” and Korba looked away.

  There was a long interval of silence, and then Dar stood. “I have to get back and get the Vixen mission off the ground. What should I tell Toran? He leaves tomorrow with RIBUS 6 for several months.”

  “Tell him everything, but it goes no further. Chelan will remain here indefinitely where she is safe. Ticees will never know of her.”

  Dar was puzzled by Korba’s apparent complacency, but he knew that not all was as it seemed, and undoubtedly a tempest was brewing within his friend. Dar looked up into the darkness of Korba’s chambers, but he was not sure he could bear to go to her while she has hurt. He looked back at Korba. “I will come see her later,” he whispered, and he turned and left.

  Korba rose and ascended silently into his chambers. He stood over the slumped warrior. Korba touched Fremma’s head reassuringly and then moved around him and sat down. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees with his head down. “She will be okay, Fremma.”

  Fremma nodded weakly. “I know,” he whispered. “I don’t know her story, but I know that she deserved none of this, Sire. She fights battles far greater than any of ours, and some of her wounds will never heal.”

  Korba sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. Fremma was right. Chelan had struggled continually to learn his people’s ways, trying to accept them and be comfortable with them. And just when she should have been feeling safe and secure within the inner walls of the Empire, she had been mentally, emotionally, and physically raped. She hadn’t deserved any of the suffering that had befallen her right from the time she stumbled onto the Calley landing crew.

  Korba looked down at his gloved hands. His world to her must now seem to be full of predatory, shrouded men, willing at any time to take advantage of her in any way they could. How could she ever heal when the men at the top of the Empire had abandoned her, and the Emperor himself had perpetrated against her the most brutal artifice of them all?

  Suddenly, Korba wondered about her request long ago to return to Calley, and his throat constricted. Could she be happy there, or was she at the point of no return?

  Korba watched Fremma cling to Chelan’s deathly white hand, and the Warlord shivered. He didn’t even know if she would accept him back as her man, and he closed his eyes against the painful possibilities. Only time would tell, and for him, time was crucial.

  “Fremma,” he whispered.

  Fremma looked up at him.

  “Will you stay with her for a while?”

  Fremma nodded. “You know I will, Sire.”

  Korba nodded back at him and then left, heading for the Command Center. Time was indeed of the essence, and he had exactly five weeks of it. Korba began running codes through the vastly powerful computer systems as his magnificent mind went to work like it had never worked before. He needed lists of warriors—names, profiles, histories, locations, orders, timetables, and assignments. He needed lists of weapons, inventories, locations, accessibilities, and statistics. He needed data on officers—his, Toran’s, Dar’s, and Ticees’. He needed their physical and psychological profiles, bloodlines, abilities, and loyalties. And he needed the precise positions of each and every RIBUS peppered throughout the galaxy.

  Over the next five weeks his mind would work coolly and efficiently through every element of the Empire and of the men and women that made it work. He would leave no detail overlooked, no stone unturned, and no possibility unforeseen. He was the greatest Overlord the Empire had ever known. And in the very near future, he would prove that—vividly and viciously.

  Chapter 31

  Fremma remained by the edge of the bed throughout the night, afraid to leave the still maiden lest she disappear again. Stose came and went, checking on her every hour.

  As night drifted into morning, Korba remained in front of the Command Center consoles, his chin resting on his hand as his mind sorted and cataloged information. When noon arrived, he finally stood and entered his chambers, resuming his chair next to the bed.

  Fremma raised his head and stretched his sore neck. He released Chelan’s soft, white hand and replaced it under the blankets. Then he moved to a chair.

  Korba took a deep breath and looked closely at her face. Her familiar pink coloring was returning, and he felt a ripple of relief wash over him.

  Soon Stose entered, and he nodded to the two men as he moved to the bedside. He checked all her vitals and then removed the IVs from her arms. Carefully, he checked her abdomen and her wounds, determining that all was healing well.

  He turned to Korba. “When she comes out of this, don’t be surprised if she is disoriented and irrational. It’s not necessarily all a physical response; there will be an emotional component also. She will be rested, and the pain of the birth will be gone, but she should be kept relatively still until she responds properly to her mended flesh.”

  Stose took a deep breath and then continued. “In her lucid state, the whole emotional trauma of the past events may descend on her all at once. If she can’t cope, she will enter a stage of denial, and then, only time will dictate her healing process. She has had trouble in the past with depression. This will be a trial like none other.”

  Stose glanced at Fremma and then stepped back so that he could address both men. “I know you will both want to be here when she awakens, and you both probably should be, but I recommend that Fremma remain in the background and out of sight initially. She may not be able to handle the added presence. If she asks for you, Fremma, then by all means come forward. But remember, her last memories will be of the cavern, her life with Shan, and of her dead son. She passed out expecting to die, and waking up to Korba will be enough of a shock.”

  Both men nodded to Stose, and Korba thanked him.

  Stose smiled. “I’ll remain close if you need me. All we can do is support her as best we can,” and he turned and left.

  Fremma stood, and Korba looked at him. “Where are you going?”

  Fremma smiled. “I think it is best if I remain in the Command Center. Stose is right. Everything will be overwhelming enough without me here also. Just call if you need me.” He nodded respectfully to Korba and left.

  It was not long thereafter that Chelan began to stir. Korba leaned forward, his heart pounding and his stomach in a knot. She moaned and raised a hand to her head, holding it as though it throbbed. She took several deep breaths, and Korba watched as her eyes began to flutter. He held his breath and remained very still, waiting for her to become fully conscious.

  Chelan opened her eyes again, and this time they almost focused. She furrowed her brow and then turned her head toward the wall. She blinked several times, clearing away the haze from her vision. “Where am I?” she whispered.

  Korba rose silently but did not speak.


  Chelan closed her eyes momentarily and then looked down at the blankets. She winced, trying to remember past events, and trying to clear the mist in her mind. Her hands slipped down over her abdomen and she squeezed her eyes tight, her breathing becoming sporadic. “The baby,” she whispered. “Oh, Shan, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I lost your baby.” She arched back in grief and cried out.

  Korba watched helplessly, not sure of what to say or do. She rolled to her side, away from him, as she wept. He was beside himself, truly at a loss as to how he could help.

  Then her cries stilled. Chelan held her breath as she looked once again at the familiar wall. She peered down at the bed, and she sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly, she bolted upright, her eyes wide. “Korba!” she cried.

  Korba leapt to her and grabbed her shaking shoulders. She looked at him as though he were the devil himself. Korba was panting, his anxiety nearly overwhelming him. “Chelan,” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat.

  Immediately, Chelan was thrown into the reality when she realized that it was actually him. Her terror-stricken features melted, and she reached for him, her movements frenzied. “Oh, Korba,” she cried.

  Korba squeezed his eyes tight as he held his sweet woman for the first time in two very long Iceanean years. He pressed her soft, warm body against his, and his hands moved tenderly over her bare back. He buried his face in her slender neck. “Oh, Chelan,” he moaned. “I love you, my Lady.” Korba’s heart skipped beats as he felt her arms surround his neck and hug him tight.

  Eventually, she pulled back from him slightly and looked at him through red, swollen eyes. She reached tentatively for his face, and her quivering fingers traced every contour of his handsome features. “It’s really you,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips.

  Korba took her hand and kissed her fingers gently.

  Chelan watched him momentarily and then looked around at the familiar chambers. Her smile intensified, and her eyes sparkled. “RIBUS 7,” she breathed.

  Korba moved up the bed and lay back against the pillows, drawing her up beside him, hugging her into his chest.

  Chelan closed her eyes, his scent permeating her senses and drawing out her fondest memories. She melted to him. They were still for a long time as he held her, both of them attempting to soak in their new realities. Finally, Chelan spoke. “How did you find me?”

  Korba hesitated and looked down at her as he smoothed her matted hair. “Shan told us,” he replied softly.

  Chelan squeezed her eyes tight. “Does he know about the baby?”

  Korba kissed the top of her head. “Yes, my Lady.”

  Chelan began to tremble. “I tried so hard,” she uttered. “I wanted the baby so badly.” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry,” and her tears renewed.

  Korba stroked her head in a desperate attempt to console her.

  Chelan suddenly pushed up from him and looked at him wide-eyed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she cried, her voice urgent. “It was an accident. Shan didn’t know about me, and he didn’t tell me that he was going to—”

  “Shhh,” interrupted Korba. “It’s okay, Chelan. I understand. It’s okay,” he soothed.

  Chelan shook her head frantically. “Please don’t punish him. He did not mean to challenge the Let. He did not know—”

  Korba pressed his fingers to her lips, and shook his head at her. “I know,” he whispered.

  Chelan collapsed back down onto his chest as she tried to gather herself together. She lay very still for a long time, and then her stomach knotted. “Where’s Shan?” she asked in a choked whisper.

  Korba’s blood solidified. “He’s with your son.”

  All the air left her lungs in a single whoosh. She felt as though she had been punched, and her fingers bit into Korba’s chest. “My son is dead!” she wailed. And she pushed out of his embrace. She hunched over and clutched at her tattered hair. “Oh my god, not both of them!”

  Korba sat up and grabbed for her, crushing her into him. “I’m so sorry, Chelan. I’m so sorry.”

  Chelan held onto his arms, her body shaking. “What happened to him?” she asked between sobs.

  Korba felt fear lance through his soul. “He died in the Dead Zone after he took us to you.”

  “No!” she cried, and she slumped against him. Her fists clenched and her face contorted in agony. “No …” Suddenly, all the turbulence within her drained, and she became very still.

  Korba watched in horror as her eyes clouded and her body went limp. He hugged her even tighter as if he could squeeze the pain from her soul. But her bereavement was deep, her weakened mind and body helpless against the onslaught of merciless devastation.

  Korba looked to the ceiling, his chest aching. Finally, he moved off the bed and laid her down gently. He covered her, her eyes open but unseeing, her face eerily placid.

  Korba knelt by the side of the bed. Stose had been right. Now only time would tell. She would either fight for survival or she would give up and simply fade away. Too much had happened to her since he had left her, and he knew that she had to deal both with guilt that she wrongly harbored and with all her tragic losses. And for now, all he could do was stand by and watch, supporting her when and if she allowed.

  Fremma had listened at the base of the stairs, and now he ascended them and moved to Korba’s side. He looked down at Chelan and then back at the Warlord. “Time heals all,” he muttered feebly. “At least that is what we’d like to believe.”

  Korba looked at Fremma as he released Chelan’s hand. He nodded. “I entrust her care to you again, my friend.”

  Fremma nodded. Korba turned away and returned to the Command Center.

  *****

  And so the time passed. Korba and Fremma spelled each other while Korba spent every moment he could in front of the computers. Dar came in to see Chelan periodically during her first week home, but then RIBUS 8 was dispatched. Stose was ever-present, keeping a close eye on Chelan’s vital signs and her psychotic state.

  Chelan wove in and out of varying degrees of her depression, her more lucid states composed of quiet staring intermingled with bouts of uncontrollable crying provoked by feelings of self-doubt and guilt. But through it all, she remained inert to Korba and Fremma. She slept most of the time, both out of physical exhaustion and as her way of escaping reality. In the second week, Stose was forced to begin an IV of nutrients because, although she would take water, she would not eat.

  Korba appeared calm and cool externally when in actuality he was being eaten alive by grief. The fact that he had Chelan back was joy beyond his wildest dreams, but now, when he should have been the happiest he could be, he was forced to stand by and watch her fade away. He felt as though he was precariously suspended between the sweetest heaven and the deepest, darkest hell.

  *****

  During a quiet interlude in the refitting and testing process of RIBUS 7, Korba took the time to tell Fremma all of what had happened to Chelan at Ticees’ hands, and the warrior’s response was far from subtle. Korba used Lazen and his men to keep Fremma from leaving the battleship until cooler heads prevailed. Fremma felt like he had been gutted, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Chelan was feeling.

  Korba had finally managed to convince his friend to drop any thoughts of revenge for Chelan’s sake. Fresh wounds had to heal before new ones were drawn, and with time, Fremma finally acquiesced to Korba’s demands.

  Fremma had no idea how he was going to deal with the whole ordeal in the long run, let alone function normally in Ticees’ presence, but he knew he had to, for now. But as hard as he tried, he was constantly besieged with a heated desire to castrate the man and leave him to bleed out. The warriors of the Empire never tortured their prey, but Fremma was sure an exception could be made, and he was more than happy to do the deed.

  Korba himself harbored a similar fantasy, and he was well aware he would act on such an urge if he ever encountered the Emperor. As a result he kept the ship’s systems
upgrades and weapon tests on schedule, thereby thwarting any unwelcome surprise visits by Ticees. For all intents and purposes, the Empire appeared normal, all systems were go, and all schedules were being followed precisely.

  Korba also avoided any further trips to Iceanea for the same reason. As a result, he asked Lazen to enter his Iceanean chambers and retrieve all of Chelan’s belongings, which Lazen did discreetly and unquestioningly. Lazen knew nothing of Chelan’s return, and he simply assumed that his Commander had finally come to grips with his grief over his fallen maiden and would end his mourning period with the destruction of her personal things.

  Upon Chelan’s disappearance, Korba had had his quarters in the Imperial Palace sealed off, and they had remained untouched since he had left the planet. He had been unable to face the vivid memories afforded to him by the room, and as it turned out, Ticees had felt the same way. The room had never been disturbed.

  Lazen had then resealed the area and returned to RIBUS 7 with Chelan’s personal effects. Korba thanked him and offered him no explanation. In fact, Korba was more sentimental than he would have ever believed possible. He could have just as easily acquired new clothing for his lady, but he knew that some of her garments were special to her, especially the white gown given to her out of love by Dar.

  The third week was upon them, and still Chelan remained away in another time and dimension, her war-torn mind barely clinging to life. Stose had explained that long ago the Iceaneans had medications to help people through times like these, but centuries of genetic manipulations had eliminated the need for such drugs. And so she would have to struggle though on her own until she was ready to talk with those who loved her so deeply.

  *****

  It was getting late, and Fremma had left to train some new men. Korba had spent the day at the computers and was feeling dramatically the effects of having no sleep. He checked in on Chelan, but she was still unmoving, her eyes closed, her face calm. Korba filled a vessel full of warm water and sat on the edge of the bed. Gently, he washed her face and neck, moving over her shoulders and down her slender arms. Korba continued with his labor of love as he enacted it over her several times a day, paying tender attention to all of her.