by B. V. Larson
“We must dance,” the Connatic announced suddenly. She stood up, swaying very slightly.
I stood up with her. I’d been formally trained in a dozen types of dance, but as the music began and I joined her, I found it difficult to match her intricate steps. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact I towered over her.
Still, she was impressed. “You can do it!” she said. “Many Gi take years to perfect even the basic steps.”
“I’ve danced before,” I said modestly.
She hugged up against me then, and I saw at least a dozen sets of eyes take notice. There were bodyguards in her party as well as Zye on my side. It was a thing I’d become accustomed to in my life.
“You must show me a dance from your world.”
I began a slow waltz. She picked it up easily, despite her drunkenness. I found her touch and close movements as intoxicating as the strong drink had been.
At last, the music faded. Most of the party-goers began to exit the building.
With a flourish, I brushed the back of her tiny hand with my lips. She seemed fascinated with the gesture.
“It looks like the evening is at an end, my lady,” I said. “I must take my leave.”
She hesitated, then stepped close.
I dipped my head to her tiny mouth, and she whispered hotly in my ear.
“Won’t you stay with me? For the night? Please?”
I froze. Here it was… the moment of decision.
-14-
A frozen second followed her proposal. During this short time, my mind traveled a dozen paths with lightning speed.
What does one do when asked to bed a princess?
During the evening of feasting and talking, I’d come to learn she fit the description of any princess throughout history. A hundred and fifty odd years ago, a colony ship known as the Constellation had left Earth. The vessel had been of an advanced design, for the times. The people aboard weren’t poor refugees or outcasts. They were explorers determined to stake a claim among the stars and get rich by exploiting a system no one else could legitimately say was their own.
The Connatic had been born the great granddaughter of Constellation’s original captain. As the colony had fallen on hard times almost immediately after leaving the Solar System, they’d never advanced to civilian control as most colonies did. The crew had remained in charge of the mission for a century and a half.
Over time, the ranks and positions had become hereditary, much as they had on Earth. Possibly, it was built deep in the psyche of human beings to follow a leader of royal blood when times became hard.
Others in the crew weren’t related to the original individuals. There existed a social system of testing for aptitude and apprenticing that guided people into whatever role best suited them.
But that didn’t hold true for the rank of Captain—or as it had morphed—the role of the Connatic. The Connatic’s job was to watch out for his or her people. To guard them and guide them. They had an almost mystic reverence for her, and I knew I had to proceed carefully.
If I refused her, would it be a grand insult? Or, was it possibly a trap of sorts? Was she seeking freedom from her role and yearning to do something wild? In that case, a fling with a starship captain from Earth might be viewed negatively by her people.
I felt I could hardly ask the Connatic herself how the encounter she was proposing might affect our inter-system relations. She might take offense, which could blow the whole thing anyway.
At last, I decided to go with my heart. At our last meeting, Chloe and I hadn’t been close. Before I’d left, she’d informed me it was over. Perhaps it was time to move on.
As my face was still close to hers, I turned my head to where her lips were hot and close to my ear, and I kissed them lightly.
This both shocked and pleased her. She almost shrieked with laughter and put her hand to her face.
Her bodyguards shifted uncomfortably, as did Zye. We ignored them all. Back home on Earth, I’d grown up being scrutinized by agents with private agendas of their own. One had to learn to ignore them or else having a personal life would be impossible.
The Connatic made a sudden gesture. She pin-wheeled one arm around, signaling the last guests and the bodyguards as well, apparently. They all rose and hurried out the door.
The very last to go was Zye. She stood up slowly, shoulders slumped, and stalked toward the exit.
Lady Grantholm stood in the opening, gesturing frantically for Zye to hurry. Zye didn’t comply. Instead, she plodded out.
Finally, the door closed with a resounding boom.
“Are we alone?” I asked.
“At last. I’ve even demanded they turn off the cameras and stow the drones.”
My eyes searched the corners of the room in alarm. This set the Connatic off into another fit of tinkling laughter.
She became most unladylike after that. She vaulted upon me, and I allowed myself to be borne to the floor.
There, on reed mats, lumpy pillows and spilt drinks we made love. It was desperate and hungry, at least on her part. I got the feeling she didn’t allow herself to enjoy carnal pleasures often.
“You’re a starship captain,” she said when we’d separated and were lying side-by-side on the mats. “I’m the great granddaughter of the same. It’s only right we should indulge in intimacy together.”
I glanced at her. “You don’t do this sort of thing often, I gather?”
“Almost never. The raiders ask, of course, but we have enough strength to deter them from risking the damage that forcing their will upon me would bring.”
Frowning, I rolled up onto one elbow. “You mean these villains come here and ask to bed the Connatic as part of some kind of tribute?”
“Yes. Didn’t it once work that way on Earth? I recall stories of Helen of Troy and Cleopatra of Egypt.”
“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “So, you’ve only lain with the captains of starships?”
“My people wouldn’t allow anyone less for me. Even then, when a friendly man comes along, they’re often unsavory. I’ve only met two suitable companions before you in my thirty-two standard years.”
She’d reminded me that she wasn’t younger than me, but older. Somehow, her demeanor and relative innocence had left me thinking she was younger than I was.
I corrected myself swiftly on the point of her innocence. The Connatic lived in a harsh galaxy. It might not be as full of byzantine intrigue as was old Earth, but it was full of pirates and conquerors.
She began touching me then, lightly upon my bare chest, tugging at my chest hair. I gathered she hadn’t seen such a thing before, and I also got the message she wasn’t satisfied yet.
We began a new round of love-making—but we never finished it.
Suddenly, a crashing sound interrupted our mood of pleasure. A hulking figure I knew too well had smashed her way into the room, bypassing the door entirely by breaking a window to gain entrance.
Zye stooped in, ducking her head low. Her boots crunched on broken glass. A brilliant light splashed onto us.
I’ve become wary over the years. Some might even say paranoid. My cloak and blade were never far from my reach these days.
Leaping to my feet, I lifted my blade in one hand. My other arm was wrapped around the Connatic’s bare body. My cloak swirled around us both, and I switched it on. A series of gossamer planes of force enclosed the two of us.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Zye boomed. “There’s no time. We must return to Defiant.”
“What’s the hurry?” I demanded between clenched teeth.
Zye had always been jealous of any other female that I’d encountered. She’d taken on the role of my bodyguard, but sometimes, she took that task too literally in my view.
“A squadron of raiders is approaching,” she said, running her eyes over us. “Nine ships in all. They’re out of range, but approaching fast. They’re ignoring every call Durris sends to them. Lady Grantholm instructed me to locate you and escort
you back to Defiant.”
By this time, the Connatic’s protectors had opened the front door and rushed inside. They stood with lances glowing blue in the dimness.
“Is this true?” the Connatic asked the leader of her guards, “…what the giant girl says? Are raiders approaching?”
The guard captain nodded. “Yes, Connatic. A squadron of pirate ships has arrived. They’re led by the raiding ship Blaze.”
“Captain Lorn from Dellamont has returned so soon?” she asked. “That bastard. He promised he’d hold off from visiting for three more years.”
“Perhaps he left probes,” Zye suggested. “Perhaps he spies on you in secret and when we arrived, he decided to drive us away.”
The Connatic nodded. She was slipping on her clothes. She ordered everyone out, and they obeyed—even Zye.
I kissed the Connatic one last time, deeply. She and I shared smiles. We lingered but said nothing. Both of us knew it was time to leave our interlude behind and get back to work.
We were leaders of different peoples with different missions. Our private lives were minor details in the maelstrom of events.
We parted, and I ran to the elevators. Zye followed me. I heard her heavy footsteps, but she didn’t say a word.
It took nearly half an hour to reach my ship, and in all that time I never stopped thinking about the Connatic’s gentle touch.
When I stepped back aboard the command deck and strapped myself into my chair, I finally felt at home. The urgency of the moment drove any melancholy thoughts from my mind.
“Welcome back, Captain,” Durris said with relief.
I looked at him, and it was clear he’d never left the command deck. His uniform was rumpled, and his hair was matted on one side. He’d probably slept in the command chair.
I frowned, thinking that the man should learn to pace himself. He was too much of a worrier, perhaps, to ever captain a starship of his own.
“Sir, the pirate leader is hailing us,” Yamada said.
“Put the call on screen,” I ordered.
The forward screen flared into life. I don’t know what I’d expected—but what I saw wasn’t it.
Rather than a surly pirate of earthly lore with colorful dress, a hoary beard and a toothless grin, I was met by an even more startling image.
Captain Lorn was a Stroj. That much was more than clear. His body was half-machine and half-human. The human pieces didn’t match up, however. I could tell he’d taken trophies of flesh and plugged them haphazardly into his own mass.
Exposed metal poked through his central bio-mass, gleaming like wet bone. Most prominent of these revealed structures were his shoulders. They were shaped steel joints with cables that whirred and snaked when he leaned forward to look us over.
His arms looked fairly normal, but while the fingers of his right hand were pale flesh, those of his left hand were comprised of a web-work of steel rods. Each metal finger was as big around as a cigar.
The only thing about Captain Lorn that reminded me of a traditional pirate was his eyes. One eye was a black camera that swiveled independently to scan my crew. The other was a lidless marble of wet, fleshy blue. This eye soon fixated upon me, and there it stayed, staring.
-15-
Facing the Stroj again came as something of a shock for my crew. We’d battled them before in the defense of Earth, but we hadn’t expected to encounter them so soon upon beginning to explore the colony worlds.
“Captain Sparhawk,” the pirate said, speaking first. “I recognize you—you were highlighted in many reports after our failed mission to retake Earth.”
“I’m afraid I don’t recognize you,” I said evenly. “I’m glad you apparently have a human brain, however.”
“Is that meant as an insult?” Captain Lorn demanded, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. His shoulders whirred and clicked as he moved. “My mind works as well as the full-electrics, I’ll have you know.”
“No insult was intended, sir. I was merely noting that your manner of speech is more natural and fluid than your counterparts with artificial neurology.”
“What of it?” snorted the pirate.
“I think it might be easier to deal with a being whose brain is at least made of flesh. I’ve dealt with a number of your kind, and I’ve found those with biological minds are more neuro-typical.”
Lorn stared at me thoughtfully. I could tell he was surprised at my reactions. Rather than displaying fear and dismay, I was exhibiting personal knowledge of his people. I wanted him to know I could deal with and defeat his kind if necessary. In truth, my guts were roiling inside, but I hid all that and projected the utmost confidence.
“Hmmm,” Lorn said after a pause. “It’s as the nexus calculated. You’re an existential danger to our plans. You must be countered—and if at all possible, excised. I’ll make you a bargain, Captain.”
“I’m always willing to listen to diplomatic offers.”
At that moment, there was a ruckus behind me. Someone pushed past security and rushed to grip the command deck railing.
Lady Grantholm pointed a long finger at the screen. Her finger was shaking and slightly crooked.
“Again Sparhawk? How many ways will you seek to engage in diplomacy without my input?” she raged. “This can only be a plot.”
I wheeled my chair to face her quizzically. “A plot?”
“Yes. You left me back on that station without consideration. I had to beg the Connatic for transport back to Defiant. Didn’t you notice I wasn’t there on the pinnace with you while you flew to the ship?”
She had me there. I had forgotten about her. The confrontation with Zye, the arrival of this pirate squadron—and most of all, my bittersweet dalliance with the Connatic—had driven all thoughts of my aunt from my mind.
It wouldn’t do to admit this, however.
“I’m sorry, madam,” I said. “My first duty is always to my ship. I rushed here to take up my battle station.”
She stalked around the central deck, moving hand-over-hand along the railing.
“That’s just it,” she said, “you rush to battle, but no battle need occur! I’m here to perform my duty. To create peace where you would only deliver strife and destruction!”
My eyes turned back toward the pirate, who was still there, quietly leering at us from the forward screen. I could see he was following the conflict with intense interest. He wasn’t even saying anything, just listening.
“Captain Lorn,” Grantholm said, turning to the Stroj at last. “I’m Ambassador Grantholm, and I’m empowered to negotiate on Earth’s behalf. I must apologize profusely for any problems Sparhawk may have caused. I would like to offer—”
“Apologies aren’t good enough!” Lorn spat out. “You must concede your claims here. Leave this system, never to return.”
My aunt seemed flustered. “That’s an extreme position,” she said. “We can negotiate—”
“No, we can’t. Not until certain basic conditions are met.”
“I don’t understand your hostile attitude, Captain.”
“Then let me spell it out for you, Ambassador Grantholm. Your fleets drove my people from the Solar System unfairly. It’s our home just as much as it is yours. The system is large, and we could have been accepted as co-owners—but instead, we were attacked and exiled.”
The Ambassador gave me a plaintive look, but I shrugged. I planned to sit back and watch her diplomatic skills in all their glory.
“You started off by infiltrating and attacking us,” she said, returning her gaze to Lorn. “We responded in an act of self-defense.”
“Nevertheless,” Lorn said, “you’re seen as the aggressor by the Stroj. You must therefore make concessions to regain our trust. Are you willing to entertain our proposals?”
My aunt licked her lips. She was rarely nervous, but the stakes were high today. She’d suddenly been thrust into a position that may trigger a fresh restart to a war everyone on Earth had hoped was over.
“Earth doesn’t intend to invade this system,” she said. “We won’t occupy it, or attempt to drive the Stroj from it. Perhaps we should consider this to be neutral territory where both sides can trade with the Gi people as a go-between. It could be a first step toward normalizing relations.”
“Normalizing relations?” Lorn asked incredulously. “For my people, normal relations are those manifest between any slave and their master. The only matter of importance is which of the two roles each side takes. No, if you want peace, you must flee right now.”
Grantholm sucked in a deep breath, and then she gritted her teeth.
“All right,” she said. “We’ll withdraw to Earth. Give my best to your leader, and—”
“Hold on,” said the pirate, leaning forward with predatory excitement. “I require a tribute as well. A trophy.”
Grantholm frowned. “What kind of trophy?”
“It would award me high status if I was able to consume Earth’s ambassador,” Lorn mused, “but I don’t relish adding weathered flesh such as yours to my person. Instead, I want Sparhawk. There’s no more hated name among the Stroj.”
Grantholm began to sputter. Zye stood up angrily. I had to admit, I was alarmed as well—but Lorn wasn’t done with his list of demands yet.
“Further,” he said, “I’ll take the Connatic. I’ve brought many ships this time. Her fighters can’t prevail.”
“The Connatic?” I demanded. “You go too far even to suggest it.”
Lorn looked back to me again. “I thought you were outranked, Sparhawk. Be silent and listen to your mistress.”
“She has no authority to order me to my death. The same can be said of the Connatic.”
“Ah, suddenly, I understand,” the pirate said. “Of course, you favor the woman who commands this battered station. Yes, I watched the vids she broadcast to every citizen of this system. It’s well-known the Connatic recently mated with you, Sparhawk, but I would urge you to overcome your protective emotions.”
“Let’s get back to the point,” Grantholm interrupted. “Complete your list of demands for peace, Captain Lorn.”
