“You’ve got to get up, bum. You’re late.”
Rising from the bed, Steven watched as Renee went to the closet and quietly proceeded to lay out his navy-blue dress formal, nice and tidy, right down to the black polished boots at the foot of the bed.
She sat herself next to him on the edge of the bed. “Should I get you a wheelchair, or do you still have some strength left in those legs?” asked Renee as she ran a pair of walking fingers down his back.
Steven admired her, for being a military wife was no easy task, and for the single day that he was going to be home, he wished he could have spent every second of it with her and the family. As usual, though, a number of items demanded attention.
Steven grabbed Ren’s wrists and pulled her down beside him. Rolling over atop her, he playfully tickled her ribs, making her scream out for mercy.
Gently brushing back the hair from her face, he traced her lips with his finger.
She caught the tip of his finger between her teeth and nibbled on it. “Somebody has to be the adult here—go get showered and get out of here. You are already late. So stow it, sailor.”
With a quick peck on her nose, Steven hopped up.
Staring into the mirror on his dresser, he saw just how much the stress of war had changed him. Though he had just turned forty, the K9 serum that he had received on his 24th birthday had dramatically slowed his aging. On this day, however, the cleft in his chin was sharper than he remembered, his silver-blue eyes deeper set, the line of his jaw more chiseled. Though he was six foot three in height and his physique was strong and muscled, he had grown leaner in the last years. Even with the serum, the years of struggling to survive had taken its toll.
Though Steven had returned home wearing a mask of sallow weariness, inside he felt invigorated—the result of his long night with Renee.
Renee came up behind him and applied the finishing touch to his uniform, straightening out the crinkles.
Steven cocked his head as he sensed something. It had been there since he had stepped through the airlock at the base, but it had been so subtle that he had subconsciously chosen to ignore it. Now, it permeated the air with an intense ferocity.
Renee spun Steven around to face her. “I know I’ve told you a lot about Ashlyn, but now that you’re about to meet her for the first time—” She paused a moment, fastening the last button on the collar of his uniform. “I want to warn you that she dresses, well, ultra-provocatively!”
“How provocatively?” said Steven, widening his eyes in exaggeration.
Ren punched him playfully in the arm. “Just be prepared! The concept of modesty isn’t anywhere in her genetic encoding. For her, being clothed is like putting on a bracelet. It is merely an accessory, an optional fashion choice. So as you can imagine, her clothes tend to be scanty. I am not complaining—I actually like it. There is an honesty to her liberated behavior that everyone, including me, finds incredibly refreshing. In fact, if you want me to dress that way, I will. I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. So, just let me know.” After a thoughtful pause she said, “Anyway, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You are insanely cute when you’re jealous,” added Steven as he gave her a kiss on the forehead and a quick, playful slap on the butt. He stuck his tongue out at her.
Reaching the door, he turned to look at her once again.
Jesting back, she stuck her tongue out at him. “I love you, Steven Sherrah—hurry home.” She raised a knee and wrapped it around the doorway, hugging it like it were a dancer’s pole.
With an exchange of smiles, he exited to the corridor outside his cabin.
Though he had not let on, Renee’s words about Ashlyn’s lack of attire had stirred the fire. It was natural to assume it was an exaggeration. Nevertheless, a flood of adrenaline raced through him. His anxiousness to see Ashlyn was making him apprehensive of what the encounter might bring.
As respects good news, Renee had informed him that Sea Base’s regenerator had helped Ashlyn to regain her sight. She was a hero to the people at a time when heroes were needed. The story of the woman who had braved the debris of Earth’s exploded Moon would live for a thousand generations, if not to eternity.
Yet, for Steven it held an infinitely deeper meaning. His family was still alive, and for that alone he would be forever indebted to her.
Ordering Gena’s ever-listening ear to hold the next arriving shuttle, Steven tried to focus on the matters at hand. Fashionably late was one thing, but he was now stretching the bonds of social acceptability, especially considering that the surprise event to award Ashlyn a medal in recognition of her heroism had been scheduled at his request.
For Ashlyn, the timing of the ceremony was perfect. Like Steven, it was also her birthday. However, due to stasis she had physically aged but a few days in sixteen years.
He stepped into the shuttle. “Gena, proceed directly to Stop 20.”
Swaying in harmony to the shuttle’s gentle motion as it made its way through the connecting tubes between domes, Steven mindlessly watched the running lights of vessels as they went about their assigned tasks outside.
With each meter the shuttle traveled, the sweetness he had noticed in the air grew thicker. It overwhelmed his senses and filled his mind with images of Ashlyn.
The shuttle slowed with its smooth familiarity as Gena announced his arrival at Stop 20, the Conference Center. Stepping out into the brightly lit corridor, Steven found himself standing before two heavily armed security personnel. Regrettably, their presence had been required after the initial attack on Earth.
Just after the first devastating blow, several people became psychotic, believing unequivocally that the genocidal attack was man’s recompense for his evil ways. Furthermore, by surviving, they somehow believed that God had been cheated out of his rightful due. The result had been a number of suicides and three acts of attempted sabotage, one of which came very close to destroying them all.
Steven found it strange that people could base their faith upon a God that, while powerful enough to create the entire universe, suddenly needed the help of a lone individual to destroy dissident humankind. The fallacy of their belief was evidenced by the simple fact that they, even as God’s so-called tool, repeatedly failed to complete his work. Moreover, such had been the proof through the millennia of man’s history—one more reason why Steven was now devoid of anything resembling faith.
The guards greeted Steven with a formal salute, the clicking of heels and the thuds of L-96 pulse rifles dropping to their sides.
“You’re relieved. As of now, sentry duty is officially at an end.” Steven believed it was time to look to the future with optimism. If it couldn’t be done, then what were they all fighting for anyway?
Pausing one-step shy of the pressure sensitive flooring that would activate the opening of the doors, Steven stole a quick breath. He wished he knew of a way to control the desires that stalked him, but he’d sooner be able to stop the flow of a river with his bare hands.
Upon entering the auditorium, the guards behind him darted off to find seating. An unending round of applause, whistles, and cheering of Steven’s name showed the enthusiasm of all in attendance. Morale was through the roof after their recent victory.
After squelching the cheers and asking everyone to be seated, Steven gave a few minutes commendation for the hard work that everyone had done to make the victory possible. He also said a few words in recognition of Ensign Jackson for his sacrifice.
After that, it was time for the honors to be given.
Knowing he was about to meet Ashlyn, the ionized air around him thick and warm, he felt as though he were drowning in a pool of hot maple syrup.
“Wars aren’t won by the might of nations. They are won upon the blood and courage of the common man—or woman—and it is because this woman was so unselfishly willing to risk her own life that we are able to be gathered here today. I am obviously speaking of Ashlyn Parker.
“Wherever you are out there, I ask
that you please join me on the podium.”
The moment had arrived. He stood transfixed, gazing into the audience, scanning for her face. “Don’t try hiding; I know Commander Stratton conjured up some lame excuse to get you here today.” Amid the chuckles from the audience, Steven’s attention was pulled to the upper, shadowed rows in the back of the auditorium. People rose and it was with a thunderous applause that they honored their hero.
“Wow, and she’s humble too! Come on down, Seaman Parker, you’ve earned this.” The whistles and cheers rose to a deafening crescendo as she reluctantly made her way through the congratulatory crowd. When Steven finally caught sight of her, he froze. A shudder ran down his spine. His mind balked. My God!
When last he’d seen her, she was still badly bruised, much of her body bandaged, but now her perfection was so profoundly overwhelming that Steven had trouble accepting that she was even real. There was no doubt but that she was the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the planet. From the ground up, she was a masterpiece of erotic art.
Renee’s warning about Ashlyn’s provocative attire had been an understatement of immeasurable proportions. Visually, Ashlyn was a temple—a shrine unto herself that didn’t need golden candelabras to inspire reverence. What little clothing there was—beautiful as it was—only detracted from her mesmerizing figure.
Other than a floor length black cape that hung in back of her shoulders and her knee high black stiletto boots, the only other clothing she wore was a two-piece body necklace. It consisted of a delicate chain of silver interspersed with tiny aquamarine crystals.
The top necklace circled her neck several times, forming a tantalizing choker. From there a single strand came forward on each side, crisscrossing over her breasts. Clasped to the point where the strands crossed hung Tynabo’s silver locket. Its inlaid stone pulsated with blue and white swirling energy.
The bottom necklace was a single strand that rode atop her hips. It came forwards, swooping low below her belly button. At the point where the two ends met hung a swath of swaying strands that gave a teasing view of what lay beneath.
His mouth watered. He was not and could not have prepared himself for this moment. He wished his first meeting with her had not been in public.
With each step down the stairs her body screamed for attention—and like himself, everyone in the room was hypnotized, if not by her face, then by any of the other sensually alluring, bobbing, jiggling, and swaying views. The audience was her captive. He could have blasted a hole in the dome and drowned them all and they wouldn’t have noticed.
As the distance between them closed, Steven’s confidence that he could resist her waned. His eyes raced over her. His heart wanted to explode out of his chest. Tynabo—what have you done to me?
The astonishing outfit was the perfect complement for her lightly tanned skin, sparkling silver-blue eyes, narrow waist, and midnight black hair.
Not a single detail was different from that which was etched into his memory—from the playful twinkle in her eyes to her pointedly arched eyebrows—from her delicately narrow nose to the swoopy French flair of her rosy red lips.
On her ears and wrists, she wore earrings and bracelets that matched the silver body-necklace.
Ashlyn’s hair was loosely pinned-up, fastened into a long ponytail with delicate, soft curls. A scant few escaping wisps of hair danced sensually around her face.
As Ashlyn’s long stride of confidence and class brought her before him, they exchanged formal salutes. Their eyes locked, the pain in Steven’s lungs bringing him to the realization that he had been holding his breath. With Ashlyn standing before him, Steven now had the answer to the source of the intoxicating aroma that had captured his senses from the first moment he had arrived at Sea Base. It was Ashlyn.
“I am greatly honored,” said Steven, addressing her with a slight bow.
Throwing a glance to the standing audience and then back to Ashlyn, his eyes involuntarily lowering, his mouth spoke the thoughts in his heart, “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.”
Ashlyn smiled shyly. The audience laughed.
“I hate being sixteen. Crazy teenage hormones,” teased Steven. He gathered himself. “It’s now time to address why we’re here today.”
He turned to Ashlyn. “But first, you have my sincere apology for jesting at your expense.”
“Apology accepted,” said Ashlyn, tipping her head.
“Let it be duly noted that this plaque that bears the name of Ashlyn Parker will, as of this day, be placed in our Museum’s Hall of Honor. And, as has been reserved for those whom over the last centuries have displayed courage above and beyond the call of duty, she is hereby awarded the Medal of Honor.”
With a salute, he congratulated her. As he stared into the depths of her eyes, a distant look clouded her face. Her brow furrowed, her gaze changing to one of deep concern. Steven felt an ominous foreboding welling-up within him. So overpowering was the emotion that his knees nearly buckled. Instinctively, his eyes lowered to the ground to catch his balance. The ground met his gaze with a swirling vortex. Entrapped, he succumbed to its power.
A kaleidoscope of images unfolded. The most prominent were those that resonated with the strongest emotional attachment. He saw Renee crying, his son terrified and screaming. He saw himself setting Avenger’s autodestruct. He saw Ashlyn beguilingly walking toward him, carnal desire upon her lips, on an alien world.
Only when several horrifying images appeared did it break the vision. He had seen Ashlyn’s body, torn and shredded, lying lifeless upon the ground. In the next image he saw himself sitting beside her rock-covered grave, weeping.
As he returned to the surroundings of the Conference Center, he stared into the audience and saw that they were unmoving, frozen in time. As the milliseconds passed, the people slowly awakened.
Unlike his time in the fugue with Ashlyn each night, wherein hours of time moved quickly, now not a single moment of time had elapsed.
Not daring to look at Ashlyn for fear he might again lose himself to her, he continued in the moment, in perfect sync with the task at hand. “The Medal of Honor is the most prestigious honor that an individual can be awarded! To go along with this honor, I would also like to acknowledge that, even though she has only been with us for a short time and that it would only be under the rarest of circumstances, an individual can sometimes be deserving of a promotional jump in rank that does not follow the typical and expected rungs in the ladder. Therefore, as regards to Ashlyn Parker, a jump of this nature has been deemed appropriate.” Steven had learned from Brooks that much of Ashlyn’s time at the Foundation had been in advanced piloting.
He paused a moment to let it sink in. “Besides her heroism, she has displayed the skills, knowledge, and ability to make command decisions. It is also undeniable that she has earned the respect for which the position calls. Therefore, as is engraved upon this plaque, and based upon the unanimous recommendation of her superiors that have witnessed firsthand the events that have brought us to this moment, I now promote her to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. She is hereby charged with overseeing Avenger’s fighter squadrons. As she acclimates to her new position, I ask that you give her the support she needs to step into her new role, for we owe her more than our lives. We owe her our eternal gratitude!”
In giving salute, his eyes betrayed his longing for her. “Commander, we are all indebted to you.”
“At-t-tennn-tion!” Commander Stratton called out to the gathered officers and crew.
A barrage of whispers, giggles, and smiles from the audience awoke Steven to the reality of his predicament—his enviable task of finding a socially acceptable spot on which to pin her medal.
His nervousness apparent to everyone, Ashlyn decided to offer him an avenue of escape, if only a tenuous one. She held out her open palm to him. “If you don’t mind, I’ll do it myself. The way you’re shaking, I could end up losing my virginity to the world’s smallest prick!”
H
er comment was so unexpected that the audience roared.
Steven dropped the medal into her hand.
Tipping her head back and forth to the left and right, as if she were searching for something, she glared down at his crotch for all to see. “Apologies, sir, if you thought I was talking about you? It was clearly an easy mistake to make.”
After riotous laughter, some to the point of tears, Steven gave her the credit she was due. “Touché, Commander. Touché.”
She bowed her head to him. “Then you have my sincere apology for jesting at your expense. I’d be honored, sir.” Ashlyn swung the medal back and forth, teasing him to take it.
As he put his hand out, she dropped it into his open palm. Ashlyn then lifted the necklace over her left breast, adding, “Damn the torpedoes—full speed ahead, sir!”
The laughter turned to an enormous cheer.
Involuntarily, his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. Since she had stepped up to the podium, a feverish heat had been racing through him, boiling his blood to the point where he had completely forgotten about Tynabo’s warning. If it were not for the eyes of the audience upon him, he would have relented to the overwhelming desire to sweep her into his arms. It would have been easy. Too easy.
After clipping the medal to her necklace, he stepped back, and gave her a salute. “Commander, I congratulate you!”
The applause thundered.
“Crew dismissed!” announced Commander Stratton to the audience.
Steven took a few steps back, giving ground to those who wanted to congratulate her, which was everyone.
Stratton stepped up, wanting to speak with Steven privately. “Sir. Sorry to interrupt, and if I may be so bold as to get a bit personal—now that you are back at Sea Base, I just wanted to make sure that you took the vial that Tynabo left for you. Admittedly, not knowing, I was quite concerned there for a moment.”
Steven grimaced. “It broke when the shockwave hit Avenger. I’m going to see Victor when I leave here. I’m hoping he can do something.”
“Then my concern was founded,” said Stratton. “You were very close to her. Too close. It was an unnecessary risk. Would you like me to stay with you?”
Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. Page 12
