Dazon Agenda: Complete Collection

by Kit Tunstall

  The words were anti-climactic. “I wouldn’t want anyone to marry him. He’s dangerous.”

  Her shoulders slumped forward, and she nodded. “He is dangerous, but trust me when I say I’m doing what has to be done. I know what I’m doing, I know the risks, and it’s not your business.”

  With an angry twist of his body, he rolled from the bed and pressed a button to re-engage his suit. “Fine, do as you wish. I think it’s a terrible idea, but it’s your life to throw away.”

  She nodded, trying to maintain an impassive expression. “That’s right. It’s my life, and you have no say in it.” He clearly wanted no say in it, because he knew she wasn’t his mate. She hated the mating flare in that moment, and how it could deny her the connection she felt with him simply because he was letting some instinct guide him toward the woman he believed was perfect for him.

  The anger drained away a moment later as she admitted to herself that the couples she knew who had been paired by the mating flare were genuinely happy and in love, and he deserved that. If he didn’t love her, it would be a disservice to both of them to try to pressure him into making a commitment he wasn’t feeling. It would be even worse if and when his real mate showed up someday, and he left her without a backward glance.

  It was better this way, but it certainly didn’t feel like that as he walked from her quarters, his back straight and his shoulders stiff. He didn’t say anything before leaving, and she couldn’t speak past the lump of moisture in her throat. What was there to say anyway? They both already knew there was no future for them, and as long as Sash believed her future was with Aryk, at least he would be safely out of harm’s way and not trying to interfere with the plan.

  She took some small comfort in that, though it was only a minute amount. It would have to be enough to sustain her through the days ahead, but she allowed a moment of weakness as she surrendered to the tears flooding her eyes, burying her face against her knees and sobbing for what she could never have.

  Chapter Three

  Sash turned back to his quarters, muttering under his breath as he went. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so angry, and it was a relief to close the hydraulic door of his quarters behind himself and not have to maintain an impassive façade any longer. He was so angry he wanted to punch something, starting with Emperor Aryk.

  What was she thinking, agreeing to marry that monster? It was undermining everything they had fought for, and it was like a spit in the face after he and his fellow Dazons had defected to protect Earth to have the president’s daughter choose to marry the emperor. It was unacceptable. Completely disrespectful.

  How could she make the choice without asking him for his input? She’d likely known what he would have said, but after the weeks they had been lovers, it had hurt to realize she didn’t care about his input on future decisions. He thought what they had was perfect, and she was going to throw it all away in an attempt to gain a peace Emperor Aryk would never maintain. She was throwing away everything for a man who would break his word whenever it suited him. How could she have so little regard for the relationship she had with Sash?

  As he paced, anger and pain warred inside him for supremacy, and he tried to push away both emotions so he could focus logically on finding a way to persuade Jordan that her plan was a bad idea. He didn’t want her risking herself, and he didn’t want to lose her.

  He stumbled to a stop in the middle of his quarters as he realized she probably had no idea he felt that way. He’d never said anything to her about how he felt or the future, beyond making the next night’s plans. Had she even considered their affair when making her decision? He shifted slightly with discomfort as he realized he couldn’t blame her if she hadn’t. He had never given her any reason to think it was more than sex.

  His brow furrowed as he forced himself to think about the future, imagining his stretching before him without Jordan. It sent a sharp pang through his chest, and he abruptly couldn’t breathe for a moment. His hearts thundered in his ears at the idea of being without her. He didn’t want a future that didn’t include her.

  So why had he been so stubborn about not telling her that? It made no sense, and he resumed pacing as he tried to sort through the confusion. Eventually, he realized he’d been waiting instinctively for the mating flare to guide him to his mate. It was supposed to be rare, practically nonexistent these days among Dazons, but he knew so many Dazon males who’d experienced it that he’d been waiting for that confirmation.

  If he’d never felt the mating flare with her, could she really be the person he wanted to spend his life with? Shouldn’t there have been some kind of confirmation from his instincts? As much as he cared about her, if he offered her a commitment, what would he do if his mating flare suddenly sparked to life someday in the future with a completely different woman? The idea of betraying Jordan and any vows he might make to her was abhorrent, but from what he had heard and observed, the mating flare was almost impossible to ignore, and it would likely blunt his resolve to maintain his vows. He couldn’t risk offering her a future where he might break her heart.

  He paced for several moments longer before an idea occurred to him. In mid-pace, he spun and strode from his quarters, moving through the corridors with ease born of practice as he made his way to the medical center.

  When he entered, he was relieved to find it quiet. He strode through the exterior waiting room and into Dr. Wy’s office, knocking before entering, though he didn’t wait for Dr. Wy’s confirmation that he should come in. He was in too big of a hurry to observe the smaller niceties.

  Dr. Wy sat behind his desk, reviewing a tablet and nodding to himself. He looked up at the commander, and he seemed to be in a good mood despite his obvious signs of tiredness. “Hello, Commander Darvig. Have you come for a report on our production of nanotechnology?” Without waiting for confirmation from Sash, he launched into a lengthy brief filled with numbers. Finally, he concluded with, “I estimate we’ll have the last of the humans inoculated with nanotechnology by the end of the year.”

  Sash nodded, barely holding on to his patience. “Thank you for the update, Dr. Wy, but that isn’t why I’m here.”

  The doctor frowned. “Are you feeling well, Commander? You look a little pale.”

  He nodded once. “I need you to scan my latrael gland.”

  Dr. Wy looked confused. “Why, sir?”

  The commander straightened his lips and kept his expression impassive. “I have my reasons. Do you have time to do it right now?”

  After a brief hesitation, Dr. Wy nodded and set aside the translucent tablet. “Of course, if it’s that important to you.”

  Once the doctor got up from his desk, Sash followed him into one of the exam rooms and took a seat on the table. Using a different tablet device, Dr. Wy ran it over his head before nodding. “That’s it. Just a moment, and I’ll bring up the image.”

  A moment later, an image appeared on the screen that dominated one wall of the exam room. Sash knew enough about his physiology to recognize his brain, along with some of its regions, but he didn’t know how to find the latrael gland. “Where is it?”

  Dr. Wy zoomed in, revealing a section of his brain buried deep inside the lobes. The doctor changed the angle of view, revealing the area in greater detail. Despite the large size of the image, Sash had to squint to see the small organ, which was shaped roughly oval, but with blurred edges. “Is that it?” At the doctor’s nod, he asked, “Is it supposed to look like that?”

  Dr. Wy shrugged. “It varies among Dazons, but it’s one of the smallest latrael glands I’ve ever seen.” Pressing a button, he called up two images side-by-side to contrast with his own. “The one in the middle is our average size for this generation, since the latrael gland seems to shrink with every subsequent generation. Beside that, you’ll see Titus Varg’s latrael gland. He has one of the largest ones documented for the last three generations, and his is far closer to what previous Dazons would have had before the Veluvia
n biological weapon that rendered most of our females infertile necessitated the need to tamper with our genetics.”

  Sash compared his to the average gland, wincing when he saw how shrunken it was. When compared to Titus’s, it might as well be completely invisible. A wave of relief went through him, but he needed confirmation of his hypothesis. “I’ll never have a sense of shea, or even occasional flashes of it, will I, Dr. Wy?”

  The doctor shook his head. “It’s extremely doubtful. Your gland is shrunken to the point it doesn’t appear to function at all.”

  “Which means I’d never feel the mating flare?”

  The doctor nodded, though he looked a little puzzled. “Again, I don’t see how you could. We know it originates with the latrael gland, so there isn’t enough functioning for you.”

  He could feel a grin so large crossing his face that it made his cheeks hurt. “That means I’ll have to rely on other methods to determine and recognize my mate, like how she makes me feel, and how devastating the idea of being without her is.”

  Though he wasn’t actually looking for confirmation that time, Dr. Wy nodded. “I assume that’s correct. It seems to me that without your mating flare and shea to guide you, you’d have to rely on the same system the humans do, which is attraction, compatibility, and emotion.”

  Sash slid from the table, touching his friend on the shoulder on his way by. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Looking bewildered, and sounding confused, the doctor said, “You’re welcome.”

  Sash strode back to his chambers, needing a moment to think and compose his thoughts before he went to Jordan. When the door closed behind him, he let out a small laugh, and it was full of joy and relief.

  He was never going to feel the mating flare for another woman. He wasn’t going to feel it for Jordan either, but he didn’t need to. He was certain he loved her, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  His only stumbling block was that maybe she didn’t feel the same way, since she had never made any mention of permanency or emotions either. He could only hope she’d held back because she had sensed him maintaining a small distance between them as he subconsciously waited for the mating flare to manifest itself, either with Jordan or another woman. Now that he knew that would never happen, the distance he’d maintained was going to crumble and disappear.

  He was ready to face her, though a bout of nerves made his knees knock for just a moment. He stood still until the episode passed, and then left his quarters and went to hers. He was mentally rehearsing what he would say to her, though he had a feeling it might end up more a stuttering mess than a smooth confession of his love.

  At her door, he pressed the button, expecting it to open a moment later. When she didn’t answer, he pressed it again and waited a few moments longer, his concern growing. It was conceivable she was ignoring him, if she had requested the computer identify her visitor, but that didn’t seem like the Jordan he knew. She would have been far more likely to open the door and scream at him for his earlier behavior—not that she was a screamer, but she was definitely the type to face a problem rather than ignore it.

  Feeling concerned, he said, “Override door security for Jordan Saunders’ quarters, authorization Commander Darvig.”

  The computer immediately opened the door, and he stepped inside tentatively, uncertain what kind of reception he would receive if she was just trying to ignore him. He was prepared to conquer her anger and prepared to convince her how he felt. Sash was prepared to even beg if he had to, hoping to get through to her if she was too angry to hear what he was saying with his first attempts.

  He was prepared for just about anything except what he saw when he stepped inside her bedroom. There were suitcases on the bed, though they remained unopened. He wasn’t certain, but he thought at least two were missing from the set, but he’d never inventoried her luggage before. It was simply a passing observation from all the time he’d spent in her bedroom, and he walked over to the shelf where she kept her luggage, mentally rearranging it in the neat stack where she organized it. He was convinced two pieces were missing, and he turned back to the bed, immediately noticing the clothes strewn on the floor, suggesting she had packed in a hurry. If she had been leaving, she would have had to go through the main folding point. They had set up the security that way, so no one could fold into the station and disappear with her. Or so he had thought.

  His stomach churned with nausea, and fear gnawed at him as he contacted security, requesting they scan any activity in Jordan’s chambers for the past two hours. There was no video footage available, but other sensors were in place. His stomach dropped, but he wasn’t surprised when the security officer called him on his wrist device less than five minutes after he’d made the request.

  “Sensors detected the arrival of four lifeforms in addition to Ms. Saunders, Commander. They were all together in her chambers for at least ten minutes, and then they disappeared. Ms. Saunders’ vital signs also disappeared from the sensors at that point, suggesting the intruders took her with them.”

  Sash nodded his thanks, sinking to the edge of her bed as he flipped off his wrist communicator. How had they done it? Their security should have been tight enough to keep any unauthorized and unregistered Dazon from folding into the consulate. This was the second time there had such a breach, and this time, she hadn’t been able to fight them off.

  Had she even tried? Knowing she was planning to marry the emperor, had she just given in gracefully and gone with them, perhaps charming them into allowing her to pack a couple of bags before they all folded away together? It seemed like a possibility, since she was resigned to her fate. From a political viewpoint, she was doing the right thing by marrying the emperor, or at least she believed she was, so she wouldn’t have wanted to provoke another round of fighting by refusing or trying to resist the Dazons he’d sent to fetch his fiancée.

  Sash let out an angry roar at the idea of the emperor laying claim to Jordan in any form. She wasn’t an object to claim, and if she were, she was Sash’s. He just hadn’t realized that until today, but the next time he saw her, that was going to be the first thing he told her.

  He got to his feet, striding from her quarters and heading to the operations center. He was relieved to see General Monash there, and he paged Karsh Taub, who was stationed at the White House at President Saunders’ request. The man’s face filled the screen a moment later. “Karsh, I need you here at the consulate. I think the emperor has a new form of technology that’s allowing him to slip undetected through our folding filters, and I want you to re-create it. I need it as soon as possible.”

  He refused to feel helpless, separated as he was from his mate, and the best way to do that was to focus on a plan. He needed Karsh to replicate the technology so he could enact his own version of spiriting her away. Giving himself something to focus on only mildly eased his concern for her and the fear she would remain dedicated to her path at the expense of their relationship. Jordan could be stubborn, and if she thought she was doing the right thing, she wasn’t above sacrificing her own happiness by digging in and continuing to maintain focus on her goal. It was one of the things he usually admired about her, but this time, he considered it an obstacle to overcome.

  While Karsh Taub tried to figure out how to re-create the new technology, he had to settle all the finer points of his own plan. It was a relief to have something else to focus on besides what Jordan might be going through that very moment.

  Chapter Four

  The four guards who had not so politely insisted she accompany them to Dazonia Major had folded her from the consulate to a ship capable of folding the entire distance from their solar system to Dazonia Major. She was thankful they had agreed to allow her to pack a couple of bags first, because she was more comfortable with her own underwear, but mainly, she wouldn’t have had a chance to secure the hair comb and poison first if they hadn’t been reasonable.

  They had left her in a room by herse
lf on the ship, and the folding had taken less than an hour. When they docked, the four Dazon had escorted her from the ship and across an orangestone floor, leading her into a huge palace.

  Jordan still remembered the awe she felt at her first sight of Dazonia Major. The city was encased by a dome that protected it from the fierce lightning that raged outside, but the sky above was still perfectly visible, with its lush purple hues, and despite the situation and dislike she felt for the Dazons who were following the emperor’s path, she could appreciate the beauty of the planet.

  That didn’t mean she was ready to move in and sign on as Aryk’s partner. She was just giving the best performance of her life, appearing to be cooperative and dutiful. Frankly, it was killing her, so she was happy when they left her in her own private quarters, giving her time to prepare herself. That had been the words of the one Dazon of the four who spoke. She didn’t know if the other three were mute, or if they simply deferred to their leader. He hadn’t been much of a talker either, so she had no idea for what she was preparing herself.

  It was likely to be a meeting with the emperor, so she dressed with care. She hadn’t brought anything fancy, having no time or room to pack such things, but she was somehow unsurprised to find a closet full of garments that were unfamiliar, but beautiful, in the huge dressing room attached to hers.

  She wondered if these would be her permanent quarters, guessing they would from the level of lavishness. Fortunately, there was no sign of male cohabitation, so Aryk hadn’t put her in his quarters. His room was likely somewhere nearby, perhaps even joined to hers by a door she hadn’t yet seen, but he wouldn’t be in her room all the time. It would give her a chance to compose herself and make plans.