Legend Beyond The Stars

by S. E. GILCHRIST

  The two women’s eyes met in mute understanding.

  Alana nodded. Determination forged her spine into steel even as her heart drummed a quick heavy beat. As she strode away with quick measured steps, she heard Norman snivelling and her friend responding with soothing murmurs.

  She didn’t look back.

  After an exhausting search of the Imperial Hall and the Command Centre, finally Alana located her objective. She paused in the centre of the immense hangar, oblivious to the curious eyes of the silent Darkon warriors who were lined up in military precision before the waiting shuttles. Her pulse hammered with frantic haste, every nerve ending in her body as tightly drawn as post-tensioned steel.

  This was it.

  He stood at the end of the main runway, his bulky figure outlined against the skyline. Far beyond him, another storm front was lashing the jagged mountains with lethal forks of fire. She read isolation and fierce determination in his rigid posture.

  The sound of her boots heralded her approach, and she watched him turn with studied slowness to face her. Bleak lines were chiselled into his hard face. His wide shoulders were braced as if to weather a blow. His dark eyes scrutinised her every move as she strode towards him. Her heart swelled until it felt full to bursting.

  God, how she loved him!

  She stopped so close she could feel the heat emanating from him, smell his unique scent. Words bubbled and churned like nuclear fusion, jamming her throat but she doubted they’d make much sense so she surrendered to the yearning in her heart. Reaching up, she cupped the hard planes of his cheeks with her hands.

  So softly, so tenderly Alana touched her lips against his mouth, expressing all her aching loneliness, all the love she had to offer in a kiss which seemed to last a lifetime. Slowly his arms encircled her, holding her firm in his protective embrace. She deepened the kiss, hungrily nibbling then sweeping her tongue against his, demanding entry which he gave as he met her challenge, taking control, stealing the very breath from her body. Conflagration engulfed her in fiery passion. She flung her arms around his neck and a little sob escaped her as she pressed closer.

  The world faded into obscurity.

  “You are making this very difficult, my Alana.” His voice tumbled over her senses causing her toes to curl inside her boots. He eased her away with gentle hands, and her heart ached anew at the anguish she read in his eyes.

  “There is no difficulty because I’m not going, Tarak.” She grinned cheerfully at the look of consternation crossing his face.

  He scowled, his grip tightened on her waist as if preparing to thrust her from him. “This is not open to negotiation. You and the others will leave this planet.”

  “The others yes, but me, nope. I’m staying right here, but there are a few conditions.” She wagged a finger under his imperious nose, ignoring the furrowing of his brow and the tightening of his jaw which signalled rising frustration. “First, we’re gonna have to rethink this whole banzai attack idea. Second, I’m not so keen on a military dictatorship so that’ll have to be overhauled. Oh and did I mention you have buckley’s if you think you’re gonna be married to anyone else but me?”

  The Commander sucked air, his nostrils pulsing dangerously. “Enough! I do not find this amusing!”

  “Neither do I.” Alana smoothed a hand over the deeply etched lines in his forehead. “Read my lips, Tarak. I—am—not—going!”

  “You cannot stay. I will not allow you to place yourself at such risk.” His voice vibrated with emotion.

  Alana hesitated. Her eyes searched his implacable features.

  Well, it was all or nothing. She either trusted him completely or not at all.

  She held fast to her hope.

  “There is no longer any risk. You see, Tarak, during the last few days Norman and Char have been busy taking blood samples from us and doing tests. They’ve found out we’re immune to the virus. Completely. All of us. So there is no way I will fall ill. There’s nothing to worry about. They’ve also begun to work on a vaccine.”

  The immense chest beneath her spread fingers was rigid.

  “Lord Char has informed you of this Intel? Do you not think if this was true he would first advise me?” he growled. The yellow flame in his eyes which had been dim and barely visible of late, flickered and flared.

  She stared fascinated, then with a shrug struggled to recall her scattered thoughts. “Well, you can ask him yourself as I’ve brought him along.”

  Alana turned and smiled at the healer who stood scant metres away. Lord Char nodded with vigour. He opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped as if he had received a silent message. Or order. A faint suspicion entered her mind.

  “This is a momentous discovery and one which I hope will prove to be true. I have been concerned your time on our planet may have exposed you to harm.”

  “Nope, it’s all good. Apparently your super bug is some kind of variant or cross-over of two viruses quite prevalent on Earth. Hence, to us it’s similar to having a dose of the flu mixed with the measles. At least, that’s what I think it means.”

  “I have no knowledge of this flu or measles of which you speak, but the gist of your words I comprehend.”

  Tarak’s eyes glowed, a fiery mixture of darkness and golden light. His lips curved ever so slightly up at the corners. Tarak widened his stance, shifting one hand to slide up her spine to the nape of her neck, the other to slip lower to the curve of her bottom. His posture signified a protective possession, Alana found both arousing and comforting.

  He purred, “Well, well—so our slaves are immune. I find it very interesting that you are imparting this knowledge to me. You could have left and said not one word on this matter.”

  Alana smiled into his black eyes and wriggled closer, totally oblivious of the interested Darkons. “I am never leaving you.” She watched his face, watched the deep lines dissolve and fade away.

  Watched the return of his arrogance.

  The corners of his hard mouth deepened into a smile. His eyelids drooped shielding his expression. “You are taking a risk, my Alana. What is stopping me from keeping the other women here?”

  His words caused her heart to falter. Her fingers curled into fists then relaxed. She said simply, “You gave me your word.”

  “Aaaah, my Alana, always you have the power to humble me. Always you have the right answer.” His lips curved wryly and he gazed into her eyes. “My heart has belonged to you since the first time we met.”

  Joy bubbled and danced with crazy abandon in her breast; she was aware she was grinning insanely but didn’t care. She wondered whether now would be a good time to drag him to his quarters. She remembered her friends and her delight faded.

  She sure was going to miss them!

  The Commander lowered his head, his next words though spoken quietly, were clearly audible throughout the huge hangar. “We will speak more of your demands later, my Alana, apart from your refusal to allow my life joining with another. This we will discuss now.”

  Alana’s heart faltered, skipped and then thundered on as if she was galloping in the Melbourne Cup.

  What would he say?

  Would he crush her gift of trust into rubble?

  She stared at him, mute.

  ”You and only you, my Alana, will I have as my life mate. You have already been claimed. Together we will meet our destiny.”

  Her mouth sagged open.

  Commander Tarak, ruler of the Darkon race, smirked with what Alana considered to be oafish, masculine pride. His touch slid lower and fondled her bottom.

  Her face heated.

  Irritation flared.

  He could have said something earlier. All that crap about slaves, being his possession, having no freedom, promises to another …

  She leaned back in his arms and considered his self-satisfied expression. She didn’t know whether to box his ears or kiss him.

  “One aon no more and the shuttles to the star cruiser will depart Cerciron.” Tarak rubbed his
jaw, his gaze travelling along the lines of his waiting soldiers.

  Coldness seeped into Alana’s bones. Clearly that particular matter was already settled in the Commander’s mind and he had moved onto the next problem. She shivered.

  “I will not deny your decision to remain while the others leave is most gratifying. I know well, my Alana, of the cost of the struggle between duty and personal needs. Your choice will be honoured and respected by me for all my days.” He placed a kiss as light as a snowflake on her brow before continuing. “Nor will I deny that I did give all females their freedom. This news you have given me, does place a different perspective on matters.”

  ”Tarak …” she began, then stopped.

  Her heart pounded. The seconds ticked by. In her anxiety beads of sweat prickled between her breasts.

  Lord Char who had edged further into the room while they had been speaking, now hastened forward. She could almost see the words forming on his lips. Alana’s breath caught in her throat. If the healer spoke now she had no doubt that his words would greatly influence the Commander’s decision.

  She could take him. Now. Of course she could tell Tarak herself. Really put the poor bastard to the test. She chewed her lower lip.

  Hell!

  What if, by doing so, she condemned the other women to enforced relationships? She remembered Linette. Alana pushed against Tarak’s armoured chest. To her surprise he released his hold, keeping one arm looped about her waist as he swung around towards the healer.

  “Wait!” Alana held up a hand to stop Char.

  He hesitated, his eyes darting from her to his leader. She read the indecision in the healer’s face when he paused, a few paces away. She had to tell Tarak the rest. She would risk everything, the life she longed to live at his side on her innate belief in his integrity and the man she hoped him to be.

  Reaching out, she placed his hand over her stomach.

  The words tumbled out, plummeting into the heavy silence like pebbles falling down a long, empty well. “I’m pregnant. I’m having your baby.”

  Tarak’s jaw dropped.

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have burst out laughing at his astounded expression.

  Now she would find out whether he was worthy of her trust.

  Now she would find out whether he would keep to his word.

  If he allowed the women to leave he would condemn his entire race to certain extinction.

  If he restrained them—Alana knew her heart would wither into brittle winter leaves to decay and die.

  Nothing stirred.

  For the first time since she had found Tarak, Alana remembered the other warriors. Their very absence of movement and intensity of absorption signified the enormity of this moment—this moment which would determine the tenor of the remainder of her life.

  The moment which would determine whether the Darkon warriors would remain true to their law of honour, or whether they would reach out and take by force the chance of life.

  “A child? How is this possible?” Tarak said, disbelief causing his voice to rise and resonate throughout the cavern.

  Alana peeped at him. “Do you really want me to go into details here?”

  Tarak’s gaze swept over her face. It was alight with mischief, laughter, love and hope. Warmth and comfort radiated from where she clasped his hand which still lay curved against her womb. He spread his fingers, noting by the flicker of her eyelashes her instant response to his touch. There could be no doubt she was telling the truth. His Alana would never trifle with such a matter of grave importance.

  “You are healthy?” Concern twisted his gut.

  She nodded and relief mixed with bemused exultation flooded his spirit. He swept her into his arms and buried his face in her soft, bright hair.

  “By the stars of Darkos! Is this true?” He leaned back and gazed into her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  With exquisite tenderness he cupped her face, his fingers smoothing over her soft skin. Light and warmth swept through him, banishing the empty space which had existed inside him for so many cycles. He swore never would he allow any harm to befall her.

  “Always you have been my salvation,” he muttered. “On my honour I will cherish you to my last breath.”

  “I’m not some hothouse flower, Tarak.” She scowled an action which secretly delighted him. Her pretty, eyes sparkled with annoyance. “I’ll be by your side or nowhere!”

  “Of course. I would have you nowhere else,” he replied smoothly.

  He calmly deflected her suspicious glance and effectively muffled any objections she was framing by a quick, hard kiss on her lips. With difficulty, he resisted his instinctive urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her to his quarters where he could indulge in full, his need to show her the depth of his feelings. The fully fledged protective trait of a Darkon warrior roared through his blood, demanding to be adhered to.

  He wanted with every fibre of his being, to erect a defensive wall of impenetrable thickness around his Alana and their child she was carrying.

  He needed to cancel the voyager’s departure.

  The other women had to be restrained from leaving—the future of his race was at stake.

  The conflict within had him closing his eyes while he battled with duty, honour, responsibility, trust, love …

  “You’re squeezing me,” Alana complained.

  Her face was upturned to his, the mute entreaty in her lovely eyes plain for him to see and he relaxed his death grip. With rueful gallantry, he brought her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles Intertwined his fingers with hers.

  Commander Tarak, Warlord of the Darkon race met unflinchingly the intent, terse faces of the watching warriors.

  The tension in the hangar was palpable. The future of his race hung in the balance and even the vast rock walls seem to lean inwards to listen.

  ”My word will stand. The females will retain their freedom.” His voice resonated with power. “All warriors will honour their duty as a Darkon male. Magar issue the order to all.”

  Widespread grins lit the faces of the men.

  That pesky prick of suspicion poked her again. “What the devil does that mean?”

  Tarak smiled. “Do you not recall, my Alana, our first mating?”

  He bit down hard to hide his amusement as a blush darkened her cheeks a dusky pink. Her lashes fluttered and her lips puckered together in such a way, his loins clenched with savage hunger.

  And by the goddess Cercis, how he enjoyed teasing her.

  He rocked back on his heels and smirked. “It is a Darkon warrior’s duty to persuade a female to yield to him.”

  Her rising indignation chased away her momentary fluster. Tarak grinned, tapped her mouth gently with his finger, then shrugged. “The voyager’s departure will be delayed for eleven aons—I have discovered there are technical problems which need to be resolved.”

  “That’s not fair! You gave your word they would leave.” She planted her hands on her hips ready to do battle.

  “And leave they will, if they so wish it.” He took both her hands in his and gazed into her troubled face. “Do not deny my men this one chance.”

  “I guess that should be okay.” Alana sighed. “But one week max.”

  “Eight aons.”

  ”Fine, four then.”

  “Agreed.” Tarak chuckled at her frown. “Do not worry so, my Alana. All will now be well. The goddess Cercis is once more smiling on her people. I must confess though, I have known already of your race’s immunity to our virus. Char told me.”

  She gasped. “You still intended to let us leave?”

  “We are at war. What future can I offer you? Besides I had given my word. I have not forgotten the fate of your friend. I had thought, once our enemies have been vanquished and my people no longer at war, I would seek out this planet of yours.”

  “I would have waited for you but that won’t be happening, ‘cause I’ve chosen my future. Tarak, never forget thi
s is my choice. War or no war my place is by your side.”

  He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes bored into hers. “In the meantime, we will hunt Atolo. You and I, together.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  Again.

  With intense interest, he watched as she snapped it shut. The smile spreading across her face reward enough for the anxiety he would suffer whilst putting her in possible danger. Always she would belong by his side.

  She clung to his arm. Her face upturned to his held such admiration for him, that to his eternal consternation, his cheeks heated.

  Her voice eager, she said, “I didn’t tell you before but I implanted a transponder into Atolo’s neck when I attacked him. We’ll be able to pick up his tracks a lot quicker.”

  “My little warrior, you astound me.” He raised her hands and pressed his lips against the faded bruises on her wrists. Again his thoughts winged to his private quarters.

  Before he could act, he heard the sound of several footsteps. They both turned around. “Here come your friends.”

  Alana smiled when she saw the women hurrying across the runway, huge grins wreathing their faces. Jessamine reached her first.

  “Oh, moma, a baby!” Jessamine hugged her.

  Alana rolled her eyes. “You’ve missed your calling. You should have been an interrogator. Is there anything left of poor Norman ?”

  “Oh, phooey! The little guy’s fine. He couldn’t wait to tell us.”

  “I bet.” Alana turned a mock glare on Norman who skipped backwards out of arm’s reach. She quelled the excited exclamations of her friends with a raised hand. “I’m staying,” she announced abruptly.

  “Of course you are, honey.” Jessamine nodded with vigour.

  “You’re in charge now, Jess. If anyone can get them home, it’s you.”

  “That’s not gonna be an issue anymore. We’ve taken a vote and the unanimous decision is for all of us to stay. There are one or two provisos though.”

  A lump formed in her throat. Although her heart felt near to bursting with pride at her friends’ decision, she feared their choice may prove to be far more dangerous than they believed. She waited in silence for her lover’s response.