by Susan Hayes
“He was here, though?” Tyr asked.
Braxon was tempted to tell him to drop it before Phaedra took offense, but one look at their mahaya told him it was already too late.
The joy and pride in her eyes faded away, replaced by something darker. “Is that all you care about? I just found a way to bridge our technologies. I can speak Vardarian now! I can translate and speak in close to real time, but all you want to talk about is the fact I dared to talk to one of my friends. I’ve known Magi a lot longer than either of you, and I’m not going to stop talking to the people in my life just because they’re the opposite gender.”
“No one is asking you to do that,” Braxon said before Tyran could say anything more. He glared at his prince over the top of Phaedra’s head and hoped he got the message to back down.
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean…” Tyr scrubbed a hand over his jaw and sighed. “I was worried about you. It made me choose my words badly.”
“Was that an apology?” she asked, her tone softer now.
“It was.”
She gave Braxon a quick squeeze and moved away. He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to. She went to Tyran, but instead of hugging him, she set a hand on her hip and stared up at him with a look of frustration. “You may be a prince, Tyran, but that can’t be all you are when you’re with me. I want the man, not the prince. No orders. No expectations of obedience. We’re all equal partners in this. We have to be, or this isn’t going to work.”
For a long second, the room was silent. Braxon had never heard anyone speak to Tyran that way, and he wasn’t sure how he’d respond.
“I will try to remember that.” Tyr reached out to stroke her cheek. “And, I’m sorry I spoke as I did. This is very new for all of us.”
The tension between them melted away and Braxon breathed a near-silent sigh of relief. “Tell us what you’ve done, and how it works. Can we use this as well?”
“The hard part was creating the interface. I wasn’t having any luck, but Erik gave me a piece of coding he’d developed for working with Pheran technology. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it was close enough I could make it work with a few tweaks.” She touched the port behind her ear. “I also found a way to piggyback onto the signal you use to stay connected to the ship, so I don’t need to be jacked in to use the program.”
“You were only away from us for a few hours. How did you manage to do so much?” Braxon asked.
“I was motivated. Now that we’re together, no one is going to believe I serve any purpose other than as your girlfriend, mate, whatever. I had to find a way to make myself useful, so I wasn’t shut out of the meetings or ignored.”
“We’d never let that happen. You are our guide as well as our mate. Where we go, you go,” Tyr declared.
“How much good would I be if I were there, but no one talked to me? You’ve already seen that happen more than once.”
Braxon knew what she meant. He’d dealt with the same thing since the day he’d been chosen to be Tyran’s anrik. “When you find a way to complete the program so that we can speak and understand other languages more fluently, I think we should keep it a secret, at least for now. That way, we can understand more of what is said, even when they think we are unaware.”
She grinned, and he caught the gratitude that flashed in her eyes. “That’s a good idea. Everyone else will use every advantage they can get in these negotiations, we should, too.”
“Yes, we should.” Tyran caught her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.
“But for now, we should sleep. Medi-bots and nanotech might keep us on our feet for days as needed, but nothing replaces real rest, and I suspect that’s going to be in short supply soon,” Braxon pointed out.
When the kiss finally ended, Phae glanced over at Braxon and nodded, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. “I’m happy to go back to bed, but I’m not ready to sleep yet. I want to celebrate, first.”
Her words reignited his desire in an instant. “We’d be happy to help you celebrate.” If it came to a choice between sleep and making love to Phaedra, sleep would always lose. She was the star at the center of his orbit, now. He just hoped that eventually, she’d feel the same way about him.
Chapter Nine
Phaedra spent the next day on the Santar, making tweaks to the interface and working on a way to add other languages to the matrix. Tyr and Braxon helped her with some of the stranger Vardarian pronunciations, and she was confident that by tomorrow, they’d be ready. The only downside was the discovery that staying in constant connection with alien tech while running a real-time translation program resulted in a low key, but constant, headache.
Pain-blockers helped, and her medi-bots kept the problem from getting any worse, but for now, she’d have to limit the amount of time she used the translation matrix. Eventually she’d find a way to reduce the strain and fix the issue. Until then she was trying to learn as much of their language as she could while teaching them Galactic Standard at the same time.
Even with the headache, it had been one of the nicest days she could remember. She had learned more about their cultures and history. Now that she could understand their language, it was easy to access their databases and find out more about their species, their planet, and their empire.
The best part, though, had simply been the chance to talk to the men that wanted to spend the rest of their lives with her. She finally got a chance to know what they were like when there was no one around. Tyran had a wicked sense of humor, and the normally uptight Braxon had the ability to relax and become the most Zen-like being she’d ever met.
Tyran disappeared more than once over the course of the day. When she asked about it, Tyr explained that his sister was seeking his advice on a problem back home. The third time it happened, she asked Braxon what was so important she needed so much of Tyran’s time. He’d made a gesture she was starting to learn was the Vardarian version of a shrug. “Neha tends to be dramatic. I doubt it’s anything important at all.”
She hadn’t pressed for more information. She had enough to adjust to without throwing in family dynamics just yet.
Their brief period of downtime was over now. True to his word, Archer had scheduled the negotiations to begin today, whether the corporations and governments had their reps in place or not.
According to the report that had arrived last night, security had been doubled, travel corridors had been identified and secured, and everyone attending had been assigned a military security detail. No other security would be allowed in the room. Archer was taking no chances. Usually she’d be the first one to call the colonel paranoid, but after her near-death experience, she was grateful for the added security. Both for herself, and for her lovers.
“Are you sure this is on right?” she asked Braxon as she tugged at the Vardarian-style outfit she’d picked out to wear today. They had suggested that since she was representing Vardarian interests, it might help if she looked the part.
Tyran looked over at her and gave her a smile that made her heart race. “You are wearing it perfectly, and it looks incredible on you.” He crossed the room and set his hands on her shoulders so that they framed the gold and silver collar of her new shirt. To their amusement, she’d had the computer make almost every item of clothing jet-black. She also had the slits in both the front and the back reduced in length. She didn’t have wings, so she didn’t need them to go all the way up. This way she could wear a bra. The collar had real gold and silver woven into it, anchoring the flowing fabric. She felt half-naked, but she had to admit, it looked good, especially paired with the flowing pants she’d selected. The only other part of her outfit that was familiar was her combat boots. They were mostly hidden under the pants, but they were the most comfortable shoes she owned, and today was going to be a long day.
He wrapped one of her curls around his finger and pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair. “How’s your head? Do you need another dose of pain-blocker before we go?”
�
��I’m fine. Braxon’s bringing something for later, though. I’m sure I’ll need it before this day is over.”
“I imagine we’re all going to have headaches in a few hours. Negotiations and diplomacy are the same no matter what species are involved. It will be worth it though, if we can get an agreement for a new colony.”
“A colony you and Braxon would run, right?”
“And you, too. There will be enough work to keep all of us busy.”
She blew out a breath and leaned back, into the solid wall of his chest. “Would there be room for others in this colony of ours?”
“What others?”
“Cyborgs.” There hadn’t been a good time to tell them about River and the other cyborgs, the ones with no place to go. This was the first step. Tonight, she’d talk to them and see if there was a way they could find room for the cyborgs on whatever planet they ended up claiming. Surely there would be enough room for both species. There had to be, because this was the best idea she could come up with.
“If some of your friends are considering leaving this place, they’d be welcome to join us.”
“Thank you. Maybe we can talk more about that tonight?”
He nuzzled her hair by her ear and murmured. “Whatever you like.”
What she’d like would be to stay here and spend another day with her lovers. Now that they were starting to bond, she regretted keeping her distance those first few days.
“By all the winds that blow, you look beautiful, Phaedra.” She turned her head to see Braxon standing in the doorway. He was wearing his hair tied back again. It gave him a more hard-edged look, and she couldn’t help noticing that he was wearing a dagger at his hip. It was almost hidden by the dark green and black top he’d chosen to wear, and the black hilt and sheath blended with his usual black pants. Still, she wasn’t sure that security was going to allow him to wear it in the meeting.
“You’re going armed?” she asked.
“We all are.” Braxon held out two daggers and walked toward them. One had an intricate pattern of green and black on the sheath and handle, while the other was smaller and pure black, save for a large green gem embedded in the hilt. Tyran took the larger one and put it on.
“I’m better with a blaster than a blade,” she commented as she took the dagger.
“I’m sure you are, little warrior, but no firearms are permitted at these meetings. Nothing was said about weapons, however.” Tyr said, as Braxon came around in front of her and crouched at her feet before offering her the blade with both hands.
She took it, and both men made a soft noise of approval. “Did we just do something symbolic I wasn’t aware of?”
Braxon winked at her as he stood again. “Maybe.”
“If we just got married or something, I’m going to use this dagger on you.”
“Nothing as serious as that. It’s a tradition to gift a new mate with a weapon. It’s a symbol of our promise to keep you safe.”
“Any other traditions I should be aware of? I guess I should’ve been reading up on that instead of the history of your empire.”
“There’s one other thing. Once we are bound to each other, we exchange armbands. They are much like your human custom of exchanging rings.”
“I like that idea.” She turned so that she could see both of them. “When the time comes, I want everyone to know you two are spoken for.”
“We feel the same way. Between the scars and the bands, everyone will know you are ours.”
Whoa. “Scars? What scars?”
Braxon and Tyran looked at each other in confusion, then extended their arms so that she could see the matching set of circular scars on their wrists. “These are from our blood bonding ceremony. When we bond with you, you’ll carry both our marks for the rest of your life.”
“We really need to work on our communication.” She fastened the dagger in place before continuing. “One more question before we go. Is this bonding going to hurt?”
Tyran shook his head. “Not at all. All you’ll feel is pleasure.”
“A great deal of it,” Braxon added.
“Well, that’s good to know.” There were more questions she wanted to ask, but for now, they were out of time. She shook her hair back over her shoulders and held out a hand to each of them. “Shall we go find you a planet?”
Tyran felt like he was the at the center of the universe as they were escorted to the first round of negotiations. His dreams were on the brink of becoming a reality. A new colony, a new life for his people, and all of it with Phaedra at their side.
Even the IAF soldiers accompanying them seemed to have a bit of swagger in their stride as they escorted them. Beings came out of the shops to get a look at the newest arrivals to the Drift. He caught snippets of conversation, some commenting on their wings, and a few times he heard reference to the Nova Club and their sparring match.
Kit and Luke had already asked them to consider fighting again, but they had declined for the moment. As enjoyable as it would be, they’d have to leave Phaedra unguarded, and that wouldn’t happen until they were certain the one who attacked her had been caught and punished.
The meetings were being hosted by Astek Corporation at their headquarters. Unlike their previous visit, this time, they would be going in through the main doors, which was two levels up from their assigned docking space. The fast, silent ride on the mag-lifts gave them all a few moments to compose themselves. Once they stepped through the doors, everything he, Braxon, and Phaedra said or did would be remembered and examined for meaning, even if none were present. This was the part he hated the most. A sneeze or an itch at the wrong moment could send these talks spinning out of orbit.
As the doors opened, Phaedra squeezed his hand. “This will go better if you remember to breathe.”
Braxon burst out laughing. “And this is why you are perfect for us.”
“Indeed she is.”
Their security detail walked them to the high, gleaming doors that marked the main entrance to Astek’s headquarters. Once inside, there was an immediate change in the atmosphere. While just as crowded as the station outside, sounds were muffled here, and the air was cleaner. The sights and scents of the station were gone, and Tyr found that he missed the chaotic bustle and hum.
The lobby area was all gleaming surfaces and bright lights. It reminded him of the palace back home. Everything deliberately designed to create a sense of imposing elegance.
“Just like home.” Braxon’s sub-vocalized voice sounded in his ear.
“This is strange. You’re talking but I can’t see your lips moving.” Phaedra joined their private conversation.
The hologram in the med-bay had performed the minor procedure yesterday, and now she had her own throat mic and receiver implanted and keyed to their channel. Her medi-bots had healed the small incisions almost instantly, leaving no mark or bruise that would hint at what had been done. It was one more advantage they’d have going into these negotiations.
There was an entire bank of reception desks, and they chose one at random. A dour human male made a note on his tablet before directing them to another set of mag-lifts. “Fifth floor. You’ll be met.” He paused for a brief second before adding. “Your escort is welcome to remain in the lobby or depart, but there isn’t room for everyone. The Colonel has been advised of this change.”
One of the IAF soldiers pulled out his comm unit, and they waited in silence until the order was confirmed. “We’ll be here, waiting for you. If you need us, Use the comm-units you were provided with. Our channel is programmed in already.”
The soldiers escorted them to the doors of the mag-lift and stayed until everyone was safely inside. It was clear from their expressions they didn’t like the change in plans, but Tyran wasn’t surprised by the move. It was a reminder from their hosts that they were in Astek’s territory now, and subject to at least some of their rules. The negotiations had already begun.
“We didn’t even get to the elevator before the pow
er plays started.” Phaedra used her throat mic to make sure they weren’t overheard.
“I hate such petty demonstrations. Why can’t everyone just say what they want and work out a deal that works for everyone?” Braxon grumbled.
“If we actually get a planet and start our own colony, I vote we make it a law that all deals are made Braxon’s way,” Phae suggested.
The mag-lift slowed, then stopped. The doors opened, and they stepped out into a smaller scale replica of the lobby they had just left. They approached the desk, and a slender, Pheran male took note of their arrival, rising from his seat to greet them. “You must be Prince Tyran Varosa and Braxon Torr. Welcome.” He froze when he spotted Phaedra. “And you are not supposed to be here.”
“Of course I’m supposed to be here,” she retorted.
“Phaedra Kari is our translator and guide. We require her presence,” Tyr added.
“You should have been told downstairs that no members of your escort were allowed at the meeting. That includes this female.”
“This female has been assigned as the official liaison and translator for the Vardarians. How much negotiation do you think is going to happen if I’m not there?” Phae demanded, moving between them to confront the male.
The employee gestured to a scanner set on his desk. “If you’re supposed to be here but somehow are not on my list, then all you have to do is place your hand on the scanner. All invited members of this meeting have had their palm prints entered already.”
“We were never asked to provide palm prints.” Tyr informed the male as Braxon growled something unintelligible.
The male’s coloring darkened almost to indigo. “You should have been.”
“Well, we weren’t,” Phae said.
“It’s a requirement for all attendees to complete the scan each day for security reasons. Clearly, the two of you are who you say you are.” His hand fluttered to one shoulder. “The wings, you see.”
