by Mina Carter
Thankfully, there weren’t many of them in the Imperial palace, within the walls anyway. It seemed that for anything other than exterior defense, the Lathar preferred “real” guards. Warriors guarded the corridors and halls in pairs.
“Oh, they’re not that bad.” Kenna moved forward, cocking up a hip and perching on the edge of the wide windowsill, the better to watch the warriors training below. “You should see the bigger bots, the drakeen. They’re awesome.”
Jess watched the other woman’s gaze search through the big fight happening in the middle of the training area. It looked like a bloody and brutal free-for-all, but within a minute, there was a roar and a warrior emerged from the bottom of the pile, shedding the others like a dog shook water off its coat.
Xaandril, the emperor’s champion, was instantly recognizable with his short, silver-blond hair and the tattoo-like marks all over his body.
Kenna breathed a sigh of relief and then caught herself, glancing quickly at Jess as if to see if she’d noticed. Jess hid her small smile and kept the neutral look on her face.
“He’s a big guy,” she commented, noncommittally. “Not sure many warriors could take him on. Good job he’s not shown an interest in any of us,” she couldn’t help adding, just to see if she got a reaction. She did. A flush spread over Kenna’s high cheekbones.
“He lost his wife and daughter apparently.” The former marine’s voice was softer than usual. “I don’t think he’s interested in trying again.”
Jess had been about to answer that she didn’t think that was the case when a chirp from the other room drew her attention. The sound announced an incoming communication, and it was coming from her room.
She frowned. The only people who knew where to reach her were Terran Command and her family. Command usually contacted either Jane, since as a major, she was the highest ranking among them, or Cat, who, thanks to her marriage to Tarrick, was technically a Latharian princess now.
“Sorry, I just need to get that,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for her room.
All the rooms branched off the central area, and they were all the same. Large with high-vaulted ceilings, they were all decorated in the marble and white color scheme of the rest of the palace with gauzy drapes at the windows. Despite the elegant opulence, the windows were some sort of blast, laser and bullet-proof glass to match the heavy-duty defense shutters that could be rolled down over the doors at the touch of a button—all for the protection of the human women within.
Some among the Lathar hadn’t rejoiced at the discovery of what at first had been hailed as a genetically compatible species, dismissing them as sub-Lathar in disgust. They’d insisted that breeding with humanity would corrupt what was left of the Lathar gene pool and lead to the destruction of their race.
There had been several attacks, the most prominent at Cat and Tarrick’s wedding. But there had apparently been more after, leading to Daaynal installing the heavy-duty security to protect the unmated human women since they didn’t have mates to ensure their safety.
The chirp from the comms console in the corner grew more agitated as she crossed the room. “Okay, okay, keep your bloody hair on,” she grumbled as she slid into the soft seat in front of it.
She hit the answer button and smiled when her mother’s face appeared on screen. Almost instantly the expression faltered as she registered the worried expression and the tears in her mother’s eyes.
“Mom? Oh my god, what happened?”
Amanda Kallson wasn’t normally an emotional woman—bringing up three children on her own had seen to that—but now her emotions were written all over her face.
“It’s Lizzie, Jess,” she managed to get out, tears streaming down her face. “She’s ill, really ill.”
The words stopped Jess in her tracks, the world… hell, the universe freezing around her. Her twin, Lizzie, had been there all her life since they’d shared a womb together, and although she was the homebody to Jess’ adventurer, the thought of her twin being ill… or worse… ripped a hole right through her heart.
“Mom, calm down. What’s happened?”
Only her military training allowed Jess to sit there calmly, her voice soothing as she tried to calm her tearful mother down. A chill crawled up her spine as her mom took a shaky breath and wiped her eyes. The tears still cascaded down her cheeks.
“She’s been sick for a while. We thought at first it was just a cold… you know we had the arborian flu through here a couple of months back? Well, some people had relapses, so we thought it might just be that.”
Jess nodded. While not usually lethal, arborian flu was a nasty son of a bitch, liable to come back for a second or third bite after the initial infection. And, unusually, it didn’t target the elderly or the weak, but young and healthy people like Lizzie and Jess.
“B-but then she didn’t recover. She got weaker… she didn’t want us to tell you since you’re… well, there.” Amanda flicked a wide-eyed glance over Jess’ shoulder as though she expected a horde of alien warriors to storm in and snatch Jess away right in front of her eyes.
“She wouldn’t let us take her to the medical center, said it was just a bug that would pass.” Amanda’s voice broke, her face creased with pain. “But she went into the shower last night and collapsed in the stall. She’s in a coma. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her. Jess… please, come home. I’m scared we’re going to lose her.”
“I NEED to see the emperor. Please!” Jess begged the stony-faced guard who had blocked access to the Imperial war-room where Daaynal was supposed to be. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“The emperor is in a meeting with his advisors and cannot be disturbed.” The guard’s face was hard, no give at all in his expression. “I will ensure he gets your message. If he deems it worthy of note, he will get back to you.”
“You don’t understand!” She blinked back tears, knowing that a show of emotion here would get her nowhere with the stony-faced guard. “It concerns Earth—” Okay, so maybe that was a stretch but she didn’t care. She had to get to Daaynal, and get him to agree to send her home. “I had a communication from home that he needs to know about.”
The guard simply looked down his nose at her. “The emperor will contact you if he wishes. Now, please, move along before I have to remove you from the room.”
For a split second, Jess stood her ground. Perhaps if she did kick off and cause a scene, the commotion would reach Daaynal in the rooms off the war-room and he’d come to investigate.
“That won’t be necessary,” a deep male voice announced behind her. She turned with a small gasp to find Saal behind her, his big frame taut with tension and his expression hard as he walked toward her. His attention wasn’t on her, though, but on the guard.
“I’ll ensure the Lady Jessica gets back to the women’s quarters. She won’t bother you further.” As he spoke, he took hold of her arm and pulled her away to march her across the big room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Saal?” she hissed, trying to free herself from his hold.
His grip was firm though, unbreakable, as he slid her a sideways look. “Keep walking,” he warned, a new tone in his voice. “Dvarr is a purist. You really don’t want to provoke him or end up at his mercy. Trust me.”
She gasped, about to turn and look back toward the asshole guard, but Saal swept her out into the corridor before she could.
“A purist? One of those assholes who attacked Cat and Tarrick’s wedding? Are you sure?” she demanded, looking up at him as he stopped. Instead of trying to crowd her against the wall as he always had before, he let go of her arm and stepped back. “How do you know?”
He shrugged, his leather jacket pulling across his broad shoulders. “I hear things, rumors and gossip. Not everyone is happy about having humans here, or happy that you’re being kept away from most of us. Most of us just want a fair chance at claiming one of you, but Dvarr isn’t one of them. He and warriors like him wou
ld happily wipe you from existence to avoid ‘tainting’ our bloodlines.”
“But… that’s crazy.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You guys have no women. No women, no bloodlines. Someone should explain the birds and the bees to him.”
“The what and the what?” The big warrior looked confused. “Never mind. What was so important that you decided to go toe to toe with an Imperial guard?”
She couldn’t help it. Far from being an asshole, Saal actually seemed concerned about her. The change threw her and brought tears back to her eyes.
“I need to go home. My sister is sick, like really sick. I need to go be with her before…”
She couldn’t finish the sentence, the unthinkable stealing her ability to form thoughts, let alone shape them into words.
“Oh goddess… I’m sorry,” he murmured in a deep voice and made a move to step forward. At the last moment, he stopped, his hands out to the sides to show he wasn’t going to touch her although she read the desire too plainly and clearly in his eyes. “Are you close?”
She nodded, pulling a tissue from her sleeve to wipe at her eyes. “She’s my twin… my litaan,” she corrected.
His expression cleared, his eyes wide at the Latharian word for twin. “Humans have litaan-female births?” he asked in surprise.
“Yeah. It’s as common as twin males and male-female twins.” It was her turn to frown in confusion. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it before. Lathar litaan are usually male, or rarely a male and female pair are born. I can understand now, though, why you need to go home.”
“But I can’t see Daaynal, so I can’t!”
She bit her lip in frustration, letting Saal guide her down the corridors back toward the women’s quarters. Any ulterior motive she’d felt from him before had disappeared after his unexpected gallantry in saving her from Dvarr’s threat.
Saal stopped, the doors to the women’s quarters in sight, his hand on her arm. She started at the unexpected contact, but he didn’t try to keep a hold on her. He just stopped her and then removed his hand.
“Listen,” he said in a low voice, checking up and down the corridor to make sure no one was listening. “If you need to go home, I have a ship…”
She cut him a sideways look of surprise. “We’re under the protection of the emperor. Wouldn’t that get you into trouble?”
He shrugged. “Probably, but for you I would.”
Jess backed off a step, searching his face. “Are you saying…”
His next words confirmed her suspicion. “I have a ship. Accept my claim and I’ll take you home.”
HAVING Jess in his arms had rocked him to the soul. Her soft curves against him, the silk of her hair over his hands, the sweet sound of her surrender under his lips as he claimed her mouth. Laarn growled, his palms flat against the cool surface of the counter in front of him as his cock gave a savage ache, not at all happy, even days later, that he hadn’t claimed her as his own.
He could have. She was warm and willing, soft and open to him. It would have been the work of a moment to tear her dress from her body and impale her on his cock. Then he’d have had her for always, in his life. In his bed…
And, lady, did he want that.
Keeping his eyes closed, he fought to get himself under control. Luckily, the lab was empty, as per his instructions. Since the kiss incident he’d given orders he was working alone, researching the disease that was killing their race. It wasn’t unusual for him to do so. He often shut himself away when he was working on a problem—be it a complex new surgery, treatment plans for a large-scale virus, or this, the most important medical issue that the Lathar had ever faced.
The medical staff were used to it. Apart from leaving meals by the door of his lab, they mainly left him alone, paging him if he was needed in the main med-bay. So far, they’d only had to do it once, when a warrior had required extensive spinal surgery after a training accident. The male had been cleaved almost in two, his ribs detached from his spine on one side and the body cavity open.
The fact he’d made it to surgery was testament to the hardiness of their race, but it had meant Laarn had a twelve-hour fight himself as he battled time and nerve damage to put the warrior back together. He’d done it. He wasn’t lord healer for nothing. Complex surgery for battle wounds was one of his specialties.
As was genetic manipulation, a requirement for even thinking about ascension to the lord healer position. The Lathar as a race had been extensively genetically modified over their history, to better adapt them for combat and various other reasons. The exploration team that had eventually become the human race, for example, had been modified to be smaller and reproduce prolifically. Further evidence they had been intended for eventual colonization. Where along the way their eyes had changed, he didn’t know.
A chirp brought his head up sharply. The holographic display over the main desk in front of him was brightly lit, displaying the results of one of the many tests he was running simultaneously and continuously, trying to figure out how to fix the damage to the Latharian genetic code. There was a pulsing light in one of the sectors, indicating that one of the tests had reached its conclusion.
He frowned as he straightened up, tucking his hair behind his ears as he pulled the information from the edge of the screen into the middle of the display. A flick and spread of his fingers opened the data file, and the information rolled out before his eyes.
Which widened. The test was one of the investigatory ones he’d instigated on the DNA of their human guests when they’d arrived—mapping and exploring the new genetic information. The task had become even more important once he’d realized that the similarities between them as species weren’t random… that they were related. Even altered Latharian DNA might hold clues to help him in his task.
As he read the results, his eyes narrowed, his agile mind working over the data and fitting it in with what he already knew. From the look of it, the exploration group that had become the Terrans had left the Lathar before other genetic manipulations had been made. Excitement rose in his chest.
If they had, that explained the lack of slitted pupils, a manipulation that had been made eons ago to adapt the Lathar for fighting in planetary systems with high levels of light in the artorian spectrum. But it also meant their core genetic information might contain information long since lost from the Lathar code.
Leaning forward, his hands moved swiftly over the holographic display, flicking and pinching in midair as he worked his way through the results with a fervor that burned in his chest. His breathing shortened and his body was tight with tension as his big heart pounded. The information he sought was here. He just knew it was. All he had to do was find it.
The universe narrowed down to two things. His gaze zeroed in on what he was reading and his hands as he cut through useless data to find what he needed. Then, in one perfect moment, he spotted it. There was a strand of data he’d almost missed, hidden behind another, and he almost scrolled past it. At the last moment though, his brain kicked him in the ass and he rolled back, stabbing the data-stream with a finger and then flicking it wide to expand it onto his screen.
His breathing all but stopped as the code rolled out. Then excitement burst through him with all the force and brilliance of a supernova. There it was—a pure, unaltered snippet of DNA. He’d never seen it before, never once in the altered and hacked about code he’d been seeing all his life, but its purity shone through like the lady goddess herself.
That was it. That was the answer he’d been looking for. His hands moving over the holo-console at near light speed, he isolated the snippet, turning and manipulating it to fit into the Latharian genome.
“Holy shit…” he breathed as it locked into place, creating a bridge and strengthening several areas he hadn’t even realized were a problem. The change caused a chain reaction along the strand, fixing problems one by one until the helix glowed, perfectly healthy and rotating in front of his eyes.
The smallest change, the tiniest snippet of code hidden in the background that, at some point, had been removed or corrupted in the code of the Lathar… and it was the key to everything. From a race some no longer considered Lathar. The humans.
More specifically, one of the human women. The self-same women they’d captured to slack their lust on had unwittingly provided the key to saving them as a race.
How fucking ironic.
“Who are you from?” He spoke to the glowing strand as if it were a person, a frown on his face as he dug deeper into the test results. They only had a few human women here, so whoever it belonged to was here, now. He could run further tests and save his people.
Isolating the sample the code had been extracted from, Laarn’s heart about stopped as a name flashed across his screen.
Jessica Kallson, it read, followed by, Human. Female. Captured by the Lathar from sector nine-seven-three-five-alpha.
He rocked back on his heels.
His little Jessica was the female who would save them all.
Reaching his hand out, he triggered the comms system, opening a direct line to his uncle, the emperor. “Your Majesty, this is Laarn,” he began. “I have results you’re going to want to see.”
4
I t took Daaynal less than ten minutes to reach Laarn’s lab, and the healer less than two to explain the situation. After studying the results for a long moment, Daaynal turned and Laarn found himself scrutinized by eyes so like his own.
“And you’re sure?” the emperor asked, his expression serious.
Laarn nodded. “I’ve tested the patch myself several times and I have the healer’s hall AI on it, testing out every variant I can think of and probably a million I can’t.”
The emperor nodded, his expression thoughtful. One hip leaning back against the edge of the console, he studied the data scrolling over the screen in front of them. Even though he wasn’t a trained healer, Laarn wouldn’t have been surprised in the least if he understood most of it.
