Nova

by Lora E. Rasmussen

  With a level of pain bleeding from her beautiful brown eyes that was nothing short of excruciating for Avara to witness, Serros’s second closest friend and former lover had then, with quiet dignity, asked for distance and space to deal with the loss of their relationship. Had asked Avara to respect her wishes.

  And so, her heart made heavy while surreptitiously observing the listless quality Diana moved through her days and performed her duties, Avara forced herself to stand back and honor Adeline’s request. All the while hoping for peace and comfort to reignite life and joy for the person she still, very much held a deep and abiding love for.

  Beyond the occupation of duty and her efforts to come to terms with the reality of ceasing her relationship with Diana, there was one other topic that entered Avara’s mind and heart with pervasive relentlessness, whether Serros was at work, eating a quiet meal, exercising and sparring to recapture her pre–Dantis health and vitality, or wandering her own dreams in the depths of slumber.

  K’llan Z’arr.

  Though the two had been very pleasant to one another since their return, Avara had been maintaining a certain distance between them, giving herself some time and displaying a measure of respect she felt she owed Diana.

  Still, despite the polite remove, thoughts of the Vosaia were omnipresent. Her sweet smile, the light in her remarkable violet eyes, the peal of silvery laughter as she teased Serros about her glass–breaking proclivities. Her scent, so reminiscent of the heady bouquet of anlya flowers that had been blooming in the Sonata on Sigil at their first friendly meeting.

  Again and again, Avara was jarred by remembrance of K’llan’s unshakable courage as she faced every challenge Dantis had offered them. Her unswerving dedication to completing their mission no matter the personal cost, her refusal to leave Avara to any fate without standing at her side.

  Even more, the memory of what in many ways was their first true kiss right before they separated in the research and cloning facility played over and over in Avara’s mind. At times, when she was sleeping at night, alone in her quarters, Avara could feel K’llan, feel the psychic and physical sensation of their nyas merging as if the Vosaia was presently with her, in her arms as she was undeniably in her heart.

  When, late into the fifth evening after her return to Excalibur, Avara woke with a start, heart pounding wildly, again wrapped within the very real impression of K’llan’s presence and the active fusion of their nyas, a realization struck with the suddenness and force of a hammer to temple. What she was feeling, the link of their souls, was real. Was really occurring here, right now, as sleep washed away waking barriers and their souls searched one another out in their dreams.

  Because choice has already been made that cannot be unmade. Now all that is left for us is to understand and accept what that choice means, no more, no less.

  Unbidden, K’llan’s words from a week ago, when she had Fed from Avara for the final time on Dantis, whispered into Serros’s mind. A choice had been made, months ago really, and finally, Avara understood that choice and found full acceptance of it.

  Sitting up and raking her hands through dark hair mercifully trimmed back to its standard length, Avara took a heavy breath. Entirely unclothed, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and out of tangled sheets, evidence as to her restless slumber, and made her way to the small bathroom. Quickly splashing cold water on her flushed face, Avara exited the lavatory. The Captain then grabbed and hastily shucked on her uniform trousers and an onyx hued dress shirt.

  Entirely foregoing her uniform jacket as regulations demanded and, while hurriedly clipping the untucked shirt and shoving her bare feet into her uncinched half–boots, Avara made for her cabin’s door with an ease of distinct purpose she hadn’t experienced since Dantis.

  Arriving at her destination point in under two minute’s time, Avara was just about to thumb the door’s alert chime when it quietly wooshed open.

  Without a word, K’llan stepped to the side, allowing Avara entry into her quarters, the doors humming closed behind the Captain’s back. Avara was tangentially aware of the many small design projects and diagrams that neatly occupied almost every unused space in Z’arr’s cabin.

  She could also vaguely smell the carefully maintained anlya plant in its viridian painted pot located in the far corner of the main room. Yet all the details of her surroundings were muted in a kind of benign fog. Her awareness was almost entirely sealed to the visage and energy of the woman who stood just inches before her.

  K’llan was dressed in a tightly sashed, pale blue robe of silk that, given the state of the rumpled sheets and covers of her nearby bed, Avara knew had been hastily thrown on. Her hair, long thick waves of spun sapphire, fell freely about her shoulders like a cascade of the purest sea water, and a faint blush of pale azure touched her cheeks and graceful neck.

  Staring into K’llan’s violet eyes, as rich as sunlight streaming through purple–stained glass in the high afternoon sun, Avara suddenly found that words simply would not form. That she couldn’t speak, could only stare at K’llan like she was a dream come to life.

  As minutes poured into minutes and neither gave voice, K’llan finally broke the awkward silence, a small furrow of concern appearing between her delicately arched brows. “Captain, now that we have returned to the ship and… and we have time to speak, we should discuss… what happened between us on the planet.”

  Pausing for a brief moment, a faint shadow dimming the radiance of her eyes and her voice almost fragile in form, K’llan seemed to check something she was about to say and then continued with, “We need to consider our working relationship and…”

  “I love you.”

  Whatever else K’llan intended to communicate was shattered by Avara’s interruption. The Human could feel the surge of emotion swell like the climax of an operatic opus. Yet still, it was almost immediately tempered as K’llan quietly asserted “Avara, we have just experienced an extremely emotional and intensely physical ordeal. It would only be natural to need time to reflect…”

  “I love you, K’llan.” Avara interrupted a second time, waving away K’llan’s almost superhuman effort to ensure not the truth of their connection, of Nyeria, but Avara’s readiness to embrace that truth.

  “I love you.” Avara repeated a third time, releasing all psychic and emotional barriers, letting the truth of her words flow from her entire being unchecked. “I love you deeply and without reservation, and I know you feel the same way.”

  “Yes, I do.” K’llan’s whispered reply chased away all shadow, was the release of the final fetter maintaining distance between them.

  Her last word had hardly flown free before Avara’s mouth captured K’llan’s in an almost bruising kiss and her arms pressed the Vosaia’s firm body to her own with unrestrained zeal. The flow of their mouths was nothing short of a frenetic dance of long denied need, and Avara couldn’t imagine even for a moment, that her desire to taste K’llan’s lips could ever abate.

  After what felt like hours, Serros at last relinquished K’llan’s mouth to bury herself in the thick locks flowing around K’llan’s neck, her senses suffused by smooth, sweet smelling skin as she traced a path to K’llan’s throat, then elegant collarbone.

  Just as she did with her mouth, Avara’s hands enthusiastically explored the contours of the Vosaia’s generously curved, sleek body. Fingers traveled up and down K’llan’s quivering shoulders, back, then hips; expertly finding and lingering on specific pressure points before continuing their journey, eager for new discovery.

  Finding access hindered, Serros untied the sash of K’llan’s robe and with a single, swift movement the garment was set free to pool at their feet, and nothing separated Serros’s touch from K’llan’s warm skin.

  Avara could feel K’llan’s breasts against her own through the thin silk of her shirt as she crushed K’llan still harder to her rapidly thudding heart. Just as eagerly, K’llan used a single finger to trace the aperture of Avara’s dress sh
irt until each micro–mag clip was released and with that, the Vosaia all but ripped the obstacle from Serros’s shoulders and free of her body altogether. Feeling her stomach muscles spasm at the contact between them, Avara groaned as with a determined twist, K’llan slipped Avara’s trousers down past her hips, and Serros impatiently kicked loose shoes away.

  With no obstacle remaining between them and her entire core shaking with the need to be ever closer, Avara’s mouth traced a path downward, past K’llan’s collar and to her breasts, lips feather–light and tongue switching between caressing kisses and persistent, sucking nips that ended with teeth grazing hardened flesh.

  Positioning her thigh between K’llan’s legs, Serros could feel the slick evidence of arousal. Moving as if through water, only partially aware that anything existed outside of their bodies within this moment, the two gradually made their way to the edge of the K’llan’s bed. Immediately after they fell on the soft covers, K’llan twined her slender fingers in Serros’s short hair and forcefully gripped Avara’s head so that she could reclaim her mouth. Her kiss was all fierce passion, driven by a soul–shaking want.

  Arms wrapped around Avara’s neck and upper back as the Human crushed Z’arr’s body underneath her own weight, for just an instant K’llan pulled away, lilac eyes pools of almost stupefied intoxication, swirling with a heady mix of love and desire. Silk–smooth voice roughened with unbearable need, K’llan asked almost fearfully “Avara?”

  Looking at the face of the person she loved with an intensity of meaning that both equaled and surpassed basic Human understanding of the concept, knowing what question K’llan was asking, Avara replied simply, “Yes, K’llan,” followed by, “Please.”

  Regarding Avara for the passage of a single heartbeat, K’llan again moved for Avara’s lips at the same moment that Avara leaned towards K’llan.

  Mouths all but devouring in the passion of contact, both emotion and thought collided along with the physical exchange. Once more, this time with all restraint erased as K’llan initiated Feeding, Avara felt everything that she was, every memory, each belief and value, the very essence of her psychic and emotional self, completely laid bare and merged with every vital element that comprised the entire essence of K’llan Z’arr.

  Just as K’llan fully offered herself to Avara as Avara did for K’llan, each individual’s nya became indistinct from the other, both souls irrevocably amalgamated even as their bodies moved in tandem.

  Avara’s vision became all bright light and fleeting images conveyed without sound. With painfully sweet awareness, she could feel the warmth of K’llan welcoming her home as her fingers slid into place between K’llan’s thighs at the same moment K’llan similarly found Avara. Moving with the tide of feeling and physical sensation, time seemed endless, and release that could never be enough was realized again and again as early night wove into first morning and finally, late afternoon chased into night again. Weariness was a fleeting concept in the unfettered bliss of expression and delight of discovery, each moment of taste and touch unending enchantment, each new breath–stealing apex of ecstasy claimed leaving them anything but spent.

  Instead, every shuddering discharge only increased their hunger for one another, the sensation akin to a person who had spent a life well into her twilight years sightless, and was suddenly gifted with the full panoply of color and form to experience at will.

  Finally, though desire still sung through their bodies like low burning liquid fire, they chose to breathe the stillness of perfect serenity, of harmony reified. In that tranquility and sweet lassitude, with their bodies inextricably wrapped within one another, Avara listened to the beautiful song of interlaced souls that murmured between herself and the Vosaia.

  Avara found herself thinking that whatever tomorrow brought, this was her place. This was where she belonged. Here, as one with K’llan Z’arr.

  *

  The low–toned, late hour lights of the Dah’hakar Class Dreadnaught lent a bloody cast to the walls and durexium grating of the ship’s interior, almost like the very air pulsed with arteries striving to support the ship’s gluttonous heart. As the slim form traced a path through the low–thrumming corridors of the dreaming craft, the ascetic preoccupation with bloody reds, murky grays, and stark blacks lent an almost primal aspect to vessel. As if it was borne from an age of blood–ritual and sacrifice, when dominance and strength in battle were the only coin accepted to measure value.

  Oh, everything was well ordered and almost obsessively clean. There was no residuum of dust to be found, each wall, floor plate, railing and illumination panel was optimally maintained. Even this late into the sleep–cycle, every on–duty soldier’s uniform was perfectly pressed and precisely fitted. Order, hierarchy, position and place all determined by a strict course of promotion predicated upon individual ability, prowess, cunning, and the careful application of necessitated brutality.

  Slipping through the too familiar pathways of this particular warship, a shadow cast into darker shadow, revulsion roiled in the trim figure’s chest like a tide only to be quickly sublimated with ruthless practice, hidden deep inside behind a psychic wall of opaque stone, impenetrable. As the figure’s destination came into view, two guards in full battle armor barred the way, lightning chevrons gleaming proudly on their pectoral plates.

  Yet after the shadow stepped forward into the light, they keyed a warning to the occupants beyond the portal at which they stood vigil. Within moments the slim form stepped between the two soldiers, granted entry into the accommodations beyond.

  The adjoining rooms were well–appointed in the sense that every example of technology, each individual piece of furniture or object, was crafted with the highest expression of skill and quality. Yet overall the quarters were utilitarian and sparse in design.

  The one nod to beauty for its own sake rather than practical application, was the expansive view–port that graced most of the far wall of the main room, providing a spectacular view of the trinary system and cream, brown, and viridian world that the dreadnaught was currently orbiting. The main room of the personal quarters and the one that the entry opened into was clearly a work–space, graced as it was by a sleekly designed desk and a large, smooth–toned HUD.

  The quarters were entirely absent of occupants save for two individuals of like height and build that stood at the HUD, speaking quietly as they reviewed the holographic data projections. As the figure walked towards the two deep in conversation, the comfort of shadow was drained away by the much brighter light positioned above. Green, yellow, blue, purple, and above all, orange lights flickered to glinting life from the display.

  The slightly taller of the two figures trained her ruby–hued, hawk–like gaze forward, her strong features further drawing comparison to a predatory avian, yet the straight–cut lines of jaw and chin were delicate, a beauty emphasized by unusually lush lips that were currently compressed into a tight frown. “Report, Operative.”

  Kneeling before the two Karukai, the blue–silver hair of her bent head glinting in the harsh light, the figure informed in a clear voice “The mission was a success, Master. The target has been eliminated.”

  “Well done, Operative Hadarr.” The taller of the two, Captain Ry’ar Vael commented, pursed lips altering to a faint smile of approval as she nodded her permission for the Vosaia to rise.

  “It is a shame, Captain, that you did not perform as well as your slave.” The other Karukai announced, and for all her mildness of tone, the apparent disapprobation was more biting than if she had shouted at full capacity.

  Turning to face her superior, Captain Vael bowed her head, hand over heart in apologetic submission, then offered “Forgive me, Triarch. The appearance and interference of the Quorum Shield Operative was most unexpected.”

  Surprisingly, Admiral Artah Vael offered a slight, low–toned chuckle in response to the younger Karukai’s assertion. “Yes, Niece. Well, it seems the Human, Captain Serros, makes a habit of being surprising.”r />
  Turning her measuring stare to the Vosaia, who carefully kept her own turquoise eyes lowered, the Triarch asked “Tell me, Goyan Hadarr, do you know what your fellow Shield Operative managed to do?”

  “No, Triarch, I do not.” Goyan replied.

  “Yet I am sure you can hazard a guess, yes?” Admiral Vael queried, her soft voice pleasant. Yet in those dark, almost sultry, garnet colored orbs, Goyan could see the test she was be presented with, the trap that was constructed to lance any vacillation of intent or purpose.

  Working hard to find her center, to keep the cognitive shields and barriers she had grown so accustomed to hiding behind solid and present, Goyan carefully answered, “Given our present remote coordinates, I assume Captain Serros was able to deduce the location of one of the Imperium’s clone production facilities and hinder its usefulness.”

  Narrowing her gaze, Admiral Vael commented, “Accurate and astute, Operative, as I would expect of so valued an Asset.” Hands resting on the HUD table as she leaned forward to emphasize her next words, the Triarch continued, “However, the Human did more than hinder. She eliminated the entire crop of almost matured clone soldiers, one–hundred and seventy–five thousand in total. And, somehow, half–dead from injury and depravation, she also managed to defeat your Master in single combat.”

  It was so hard, but Goyan found that she was able, if just barely, to suppress the sudden surge of exhilaration she felt at the Triarch’s announcement.

  Catching the murderous look on Captain Ry’ar Vael’s face, any joy Hadarr felt at the thought of her Master’s defeat turned to bitter ash in her mouth. The Triarch had just deliberately humiliated her Executive Officer in front of Ry’ar’s own slave. It was an act contrived to put the younger Vael in her place and at the same time, inspire her to better performance in the future.