by Reiter
“So much better to add your light to mine, baby,” she cried out before biting his shoulder. The pain excited them both and V’Dalthian worked even deeper into her, nearly mindless with passion and pleasure. “You’ve lived so long that life bores you… hmmmm, mother fucker! Living bores you! And before you know it, you’re in touch with your powers, but out of touch with your soul! Well, the soul is where I swim, Goldie. All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was more life! That’s what I’m taking from you!” Jocasta groaned with pleasure as V’Dalthian screamed in ecstasy and fear. His mind reeled, and now the mattress was as torn as the sheets. His head fell to the pillow and he panted as he moaned. Jocasta’s hips rolled. Her legs squeezed at his waist as her muscles took hold of what V’Dalthian had inside her. He moaned as his body shuddered.
“Not enough, Goldie,” Jocasta panted, undulating her body underneath the man, Jocasta moved her hands to his back, pressing her fingertips into the tight muscles. “Damn that is a good move, isn’t it?” Jocasta said, kissing the side of his neck. Jocasta panted, nearly spent herself. “Do you know how many of your super-sensitive nerve endings I have inside of me right now?” Her eyes closed as she rolled her hips again.
“Uuungh!” V’Dalthian wailed in both pleasure and pain. “Please! Please, Mistress, I beg you!”
“Fealty!” Jocasta cried as her arms and legs trembled with fatigue. She did not have long before her body would explode from inside, and she closed her eyes, taking energy from the delight she had received. “Swear it! Not to me. To my blood and to my kind! Swear it or I’ll never let you out!”
“I give my oath to you upon my blood and honor!” he projected, unable to speak.
“Give me my Goldie!” Jocasta commanded as her body writhed uncontrollably. The floodgates of delectation flew open and her grips into the man’s shoulders pierced his skin and the lovers shared in another burst of passion. His back arched as he lifted his head up from her shoulder. Light in the center of V’Dalthian’s chest fell into Jocasta’s body, and a smaller point of light left from her passing into him. Jocasta gasped as the light entered her, and her blue eyes turned a fiery orange before they returned to their natural blue, though they remained more dazzling in how they reflected the light.
V’Dalthian collapsed on top of Jocasta, but he was not heavy to her and she easily rolled him on to his side. She sat up in bed and looked over at her spent lover. She smiled, looking at the handsome face the Dragon had created.
“Blood and honor? I suppose one outta two ain’t bad,” Jocasta said, swinging her feet over the side. “Zebrynn,” she called out as she took the top sheet away from the bed. What was left of it served as a sufficient wrap for her body. The SorceroR appeared just as Jocasta covered herself.
“You called, my Mistress?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost three score years, Mistress,” the young man answered while bowing.
“When did the teaching stop?”
“Thirteen years ago, Mistress. V’Dalthian said I have learned all I need to.”
“V’Dalthian? Not Master?”
“You are the Mistress, my Lady.”
“Word gets around pretty fast,” she commented. “I was promised a feast. You’ve got three things you need to do: bring me that feast along with all of Goldie’s belongings, get me a ride back to Sky Stone, and then dismiss yourself, permanently, from this place. Be sure to take what you need on the way out. And don’t worry, I forbid him to take any action against you.” V’Dalthian moaned in response to her statement but he did not move. The young man’s eyes gaped wide in anticipation and he bowed to Jocasta once more before leaving the chamber. “Don’t worry, Dal, I’m not going to clean you out,” she said, looking down at her hands that were eager for the pommel of a sword. “I figure I’ve got all I need from you.”
Lessons of the classroom are simpler for the student. The classroom shields us from a bitter reality. There are no shields in the lessons of life, just as there are no boundaries to what we can learn.
Osur Nugar
(Rims Time: XII-4203.30)
Sarshata closed the doors behind her and heard the locks slide into place; there was nothing wrong with their functionality, which only served to increase her curiosity. Stepping beyond the foyer, the chamber was able to interpret that someone had just entered the facility and might need assistance. The Commandant was greeted by the Librarian, a construct of both MannA and ThoughtWill.
“Might I be of some assistance?” the Librarian inquired, giving Sarshata a very gentle smile. Sarshata had seen the woman in a worse mood, and had somewhat expected a more heated expression on the elderly woman’s face.
“Uh, no, milady. At least not with any item stored here. But perhaps you could direct me to–”
“Ms. Ravinguez,” the automaton said with a slight frown, “you are the last person I thought I would have to remind just what a library is for.” Sarshata’s mind was filled with all sorts of memories. What it had been like to study here, to teach here, and to administrate here. Not all of the recalled accounts could be qualified as ‘good times’, but the reflection brought a smile to her face.
“Actually, my concern was for you and the security of the library. You see, I believe the person I am looking for is in the chamber, but he doesn’t have the clearance to be here.”
“Yet, I am here,” Dungias said as he came up the stairs from the Reference Section, “… and this most gracious hostess has yet to sound any alarm. Thank you for your courtesy and efforts, Aida.” Dungias nodded to the librarian who smiled once more.
“It was my pleasure, Master,” the figure replied before starting to discorporate. She was not yet gone from the eye when she shot Sarshata a very cross glare.
“I can assure you, Commandant, that I am well within my right to be here.”
“Master?” Sarshata asked. “She called you Master!”
“The facilities of Sky Stone fall under the privy of its elders and its most noted officers,” Dungias said as he approached the librarian’s desk. “Aahhh, she was able to find them. Good!” Dungias picked up three very large books and stored them in his satchel. He turned back to Sarshata and placed his right hand inside his left as his arms draped in front of him. “Anyone who holds dominion over those persons also possesses what you call clearance. Spade is a Beta-Form that resides in a place called The Campus. I am the Master of The Campus.”
“You are a wonder of surprises is what you are,” Sarshata admitted, causing Dungias to frown and herself to blush. It was an admittance she would have preferred not to have voice. “Sorry. What I meant to say was–”
“What would be the point?” Dungias asked.
“Come again.”
“The point of why you’re here. I am First Mate to a woman for whom the word wanderlust only begins to describe. You are the Commandant of Sky Stone, trying to keep together the legacy of the Star-Wing Corps. What can be gained from a night of meaningless passion?” The Traveler started to say more when he felt a telepathic projection reaching out for his mind. Recognizing Tuitonn, Dungias deactivated his collar.
Sarshata approached the Traveler very slowly, keeping her eyes on his. Soft might have been the movement, but her heart was stern and her ambition fixed on the moment.
“Don’t do it, Z!” Tuitonn projected.
“Do not do what exactly?” Dungias inquired.
“Morning actually,” Sarshata replied, “… and who says it has to be meaningless?”
“You’re standing there, about to make a very bad decision.”
“That is your perspective, Tuitonn,” Dungias thought as Sarshata took another step toward him.
“I’m not looking for a husband,” she admitted with a slight smile. “And I know you’re not looking for a wife.”
“We could argue our two perspectives almost endlessly,” Tuitonn projected.
“And we both have better things to do!” Dungias thought, opening his mouth
to speak. Sarshata placed one hand on Dungias’ chest; he could feel a slight tremble in her touch.
“She is nervous?!” he thought.
“But you only mentioned our stations,” Sarshata continued. “Weren’t we something before those positions? Aren’t we something in spite of them?”
“The answer to both of those questions is ‘of course’,” Dungias said softly.
“I know all things pertaining to her are sacred to you, and I therefore risk your rage… but can you answer me this: what is Saru’s perspective?”
“Sounds like perfect answer,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him gently on the lips. The contact was near perfection, broken by Dungias who quickly pulled back from her advance. He stammered, stunned by the inquiry Tuitonn had put to him.
“Saru wants you to live, Master,” Alpha projected. “That much cannot be argued!”
“Put aside this self-assigned martyrdom and breathe,” Tuitonn added. “Or is it only to the Stars that you will submit?”
“And I guess that answers the chances question,” Sarshata said, caressing her shoulder as she suddenly felt a chill in the night air. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” She quickly turned, closing her eyes at the sting of rejection. She took a step and opened her eyes in an effort to shake loose what she was feeling. She gasped at the sight of Dungias taking hold of her face with one hand, pressing his lips on to hers. Her muffled protest was one unintelligible syllable that melted into a soft moan. She slowly lifted her hand to place on his and their lips parted.
Keeping her eyes closed, she asked, “Uhhhm, are you familiar with the term ‘mixed signals’?” Dungias kissed her again, allowing himself to take delight in her touch, her essence, and her desire to give and receive pleasure.
When their lips parted again, Sarshata lowered her head and placed her forehead against Dungias’. “If I say no, will you teach me?” Dungias joked. The woman laughed at the question as she put her free hand on Dungias’ chest.
“Sure, I can do that,” she nodded without opening her eyes. “Might take a while to convey the first set of signals.”
“Will it?” he whispered, kissing her forehead.
“Yeah, you don’t strike me as being too bright. The translation may take hours.”
“Then, in the interest of higher education, we should begin,” Dungias said as he picked the woman up from the ground. He carried her toward the rear of the library.
“Dungias, my room’s not that far!” she exclaimed while keeping her voice at a whisper.
“I know, we are headed there now,” he replied, phasing through the wall and ascending toward her room. Sarshata looked at the wall of the library as the two of them continued to ascend. She then looked out over the horizon. She could see the lights of Stone City and, further in the distance, Furine Pointe. The blackness of night was not yet ready to surrender its hold on the sky, but it would not be much longer before the sun would make its undeniable argument.
“Somebody slap me and call me Lois!” After a moment of thought, Dungias understood her reference and tried not to be insulted. The failings of a figure possessive of what was considered to be a superior intellect were too many to numerate, and the Traveler had simply called it passive entertainment and fictional folly.
The two continued to ascend as Dungias looked into the woman’s eyes. When they phased through her ceiling, landing in her living room, Sarshata took the opportunity to kiss him again. It would be the last genuine memory she would have of the evening. Dungias carried the woman to her bedroom, disrobed her and put her to bed. She was smiling, living out a night of incredible passion with a mysterious stranger.
“Hear me, the both of you,” Dungias projected as he covered Sarshata with a sheet. “For this is the last passing commentary I will have on this issue. I am what I am, and when I next take that most special person in my arms, it will not be for one night’s splendor. It is not Saru’s perspective that need be understood… it is mine!
“Goodnight, sweet Swan,” Dungias whispered before he passed through the floor. “Satithe, see to it that a message reflecting my gratitude is left on her personal system.”
“It is already done, Master,” Satithe replied. “And time-coded for three hours from now.”
“I noticed you did not take part in the conversation.”
“What you choose to do with your feelings is your business,” she replied.
“Especially since you wish to be left alone with what it is you have done?” Dungias asked. He could feel a hesitation within his system. “Satithe, neither one of us can claim that we know everything about one another, and such a standpoint is not my goal.”
“Neither is it mine,” Satithe replied.
“But if we are indeed one, how can we then set about the business of keeping secrets from one another?” he asked.
“We should not, Master. “I’m–”
“Do not ask for forgiveness,” Dungias directed as he returned to Jocasta’s room. As expected, she was not there.
“Even when I have wronged you?” Satithe asked.
“Correct the error and live the difference. That will be all the apology I require.”
“If that is so, when you get a moment, I need you to review the modified NHB Project.”
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Sarshata walked at a brisk pace, a smile stretched wide across her face. It was late in the morning and she had not gotten much sleep. Still, she felt well-rested and invigorated. She was happy, walking out toward the flight deck that had been made ready for the commencement ceremony. Checking her brace-com once more, she found something that took some of her smile away. JoJo Starblazer was still listed as being off-campus.
“Pegged her for someone who would’ve gone down swinging,” Sarshata thought, shaking her head.
“And to add to my misery,” she thought as her eyes found Alistair Codges standing in the forming crowd. He was dressed in civilian clothing, but looking around the facility most eagerly. She walked directly to the man, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.
“I could have sworn I fired you!” she started.
“I am already booked on the next shuttle,” Alistair answered as he slowly turned to face the woman. “And as you can see, I’m no longer in uniform. I am the guest of an Elite.”
“Which Elite?”
“Elite Agatiok,” Alistair bragged while pointing out the Elder Corpsman. “Take your concerns up with him.”
“Give me another order and my exceptions regarding your presence won’t be the only thing he and I will have to talk about,” Sarshata warned.
Alistair bowed with an evil grin and turned his attention back to the stage. Commander Ravinguez walked off in a huff and proceeded directly to the one of the noted heroes of the Star-Wing Corps. He stood with a number of other dignitaries, mostly from the Pearl Barony, but not the sort of gathering where she wanted to make an awkward scene. Tanthrunn Agatiok, call-sign Fighter God – which he shortened to FiGo – was one of the survivors of the engagements the Star-Wing had suffered at the hands of the combined Imperial and Ardrian fleets. He stood in his commemorative uniform, holding his crystal baton with one hand, his silver sash with the other. He turned as Sarshata approached and smiled to see a former student.
“Good morning, Swan!” he said joyfully.
“Greetings FiGo,” she returned with a smile. “It is good to see you, sir.”
“I’m not sure I stand out, given how you appear to be glowing!” the man returned. Sarshata blushed, covering her mouth a moment. “Heaven’s pillars!” the man whispered and Sarshata could not keep from laughing.
“Surely I’m not that bad!”
“Child, you are the most dedicated officer these eyes have ever seen. This Corps continues because of your efforts.”
“Then I’m confused,” Sarshata noted.
“As am I,” the Elite quickly replied. “How is it that you have come to suspend Calamity?”
“I mean to
recommend him for removal from the ranks outright, sir. I realize that your family and his are–”
“Sarshata Ravinguez!” Tanthrunn called out, silencing the woman. She looked down as he stepped closer to her. “The moment Swan has to explain herself to me… she has either lost perspective of herself or taken too great a perspective of my position! Mind you, I would like to know your reasons for this action, but I was unaware of the matter when he asked to be my guest today. I shall have him removed at once.”
“Please don’t soil your hands with it, sir.”
“It is a matter of principle!”
“No sir…” Sarshata gasped as a notion struck her. “Principle! FiGo, I implore you to leave it be, but please excuse me.” The woman did not wait for an answer before she walked away, looking at her brace-com. “Dammit! Three minutes!” she whispered, opening a channel. “Please be there!”
“Good morning, Swan,” Dungias responded to her hail.
“Gods, please lay off that voice right now,” Sarshata started. “I need you to give me an order.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have dominion over Spade,” Sarshata pointed out. “If you give the order for Starblazer to get through Ozone, she’s in!”
“First, I would never intrude in such a way upon what you hold to be sacred,” Dungias stated. “Secondly, I would never do that for JoJo. It would do more harm than good.”
“Dungias!”
“And lastly,” the Traveler interrupted, “… perhaps you should have a look over the eastern horizon. Good morning, Swan.” Sarshata could not see the horizon directly. There were too many people and a stage in the way; she was supposed to be on that stage in order for the brief ceremony to begin. Eugenia was already there and she was waving for Sarshata to join her.
And then Swan heard the first of them. Gasps and screams of delight accompanied by various commands for others to look. Snow turned in the same direction most were beginning to look and Sarshata made her way through the crowd. Her eyes flared wide when Eugenia lifted her hands up to cover her mouth.
