by Gun Brooke
“Oh, Madi, I love you so much. I can’t believe I’m holding you, or that you’re allowing me to hold you. You hated me.” Weiss pulled back a little. “Perhaps part of you still does.”
“I don’t.” Madisyn knew this was complicated and their only chance at mutual happiness was if she remained totally honest. “I did at first, once you told me of your past. After a while I had to force myself to hate you. I felt I owed it to my parents. Even before you saved my life, I knew I didn’t hate you.”
“And now?” It was Weiss’s turn to tremble.
“I don’t hate you. I love you.” Madisyn looked into the eyes of the one person who had been the first one to regard her as human, even before Madisyn told her the truth. “I love you.”
“I have a lot to atone for.” Weiss drew a shaky breath. “I owe the people I robbed, hurt, or killed, to not waver from this path. I need to keep doing this.”
“So do I.” Madisyn curled up, snuggling closer. “We make an awesome team, don’t you think, Weiss?”
“We do.” Weiss slid down along the backrest of the couch, pulling Madisyn with her. “Right now, there is something far less unselfish on my mind, though. I need you.” She slid her hands under Madisyn’s SC-issue shirt. “I want to feel you against me, with no barrier between us, physical or emotional.”
“Then undress me.” Madisyn raised her arms above her head, allowing Weiss to remove her shirt.
“Stars and skies, you’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” Madisyn tore open Weiss’s buttoned uniform jacket. “Oh. So are you.” She pushed her hands in under the retrospun tank top. “And you feel amazing.” She cupped Weiss’s breasts, caressing them greedily, making Weiss give an uncharacteristic whimper.
“Damn.” Weiss rolled them over, pushing the tank top up above Madisyn’s breasts, immediately lowering her mouth to one of her nipples. The searing pleasure showed Madisyn beyond any doubt that her body functioned perfectly. Moisture dampened her underwear and she gasped as she held Weiss closer.
“Make me yours,” Madisyn whispered feverishly. “Show me.”
Weiss tugged at Madisyn’s pants, pulling them off as she caressed her with steady, soft hands. “What is it you want me to show you?”
Arching under the hands of the woman she loved, Madisyn couldn’t take her eyes off the sight of a half-naked, passionate Weiss. “Show me that I’m humanoid.”
“Madi,” Weiss removed the last of her own clothes in a frenzy. “You are. You are.”
“Show me that I’m still me.”
“You are!” Weiss pressed her body in between Madisyn’s legs. Spreading them willingly, Madisyn felt Weiss’s damp sex press into her own. Her own moisture mixed with her lover’s, and the heat between them, around them, seemed to eradicate the years of desperate loneliness.
Placing one hand between them, Weiss caressed Madisyn, at the same time undulating against her busy fingers. As Madisyn felt impossible heat emanate from inside her belly and between her thighs, she wrapped her legs around Weiss. It was when she felt Weiss’s rapid, strong heartbeat against her own chest that she knew.
She was Madisyn Pimm, loving and caring humanoid, who in turn was fully capable of loving Weiss and caring for her. She was real and she was still here.
Epilogue
Four months later
Kellen O’Dal stood with Rae behind the prince as he rose from the gilded throne. Armeo, a mere thirteen years old, wore white and gold, the traditional Gantharian O’Saral Royale colors. Tradition also dictated that he would make his first appearance before the Gantharian people on the stairs leading up to the royal palace gates. Granted, the palace was still in ruins and it was doubtful if it would be possible to rebuild it to its former glory. Many Gantharians wanted to, but the Gantharian funds would be better spent on more pressing matters: hospitals and schools, to start with.
Glancing to her left, Kellen saw Rae regard the crowd with narrow eyes. Not a gan’thet master, Rae wasn’t dressed in the Ruby Red suit but in a form-fitting black version, which Rae had found a bit too revealing, but succumbed to when she viewed images of previous protectors. Kellen had never seen her look more commanding than she did now with the black leather-like cape billowing behind her.
To Rae’s left stood Ewan and Dahlia, wearing their respective uniforms as admiral and chief diplomat. Dahlia was one of the negotiators who had worked tirelessly with the Gantharian interim government, and she was also Armeo’s grandmother. In addition to being his grandfather, Ewan was the highest-ranking SC military presence at Gantharat. On the other side of Kellen were three representatives of the M’Aido family from Onotharat, distant relatives of Armeo’s Onotharian father.
Behind them, dressed in civilian festive attire, Andreia M’Aldovar sat next to Roshan O’Landha in the first row of white chairs, both representing the leadership of the former resistance movement. Mikael O’Landha, Roshan’s father who had suffered for more than twenty-five years on an Onotharian asteroid prison before his rescue, sat in a hover chair next to his daughter. Behind them, distinguished guests and friends from the Supreme Constellations and Gantharat sat in row after row. Kellen had greeted them all personally and was pleased to see, sitting beside Owena and Leanne, Dwyn and Emeron, who’d helped save Dahlia when M’Aldovar kidnapped her. To everybody’s joy, the de Vies family had traveled from Earth. Dorinda, their daughter and Armeo’s best friend, had been instrumental in helping Armeo cope when both his guardians were deployed. Next to them stood Madisyn Pimm and Weiss Kyakh, who had shortened the Onotharian war effort by years when they prevented Trax from obtaining davic crystals.
“And now to another historic event,” the official Gantharian speaker said, raising his hands. “We have regained an O’Saral Royale to take the throne, but that is not all. Today, for the first time in more than a hundred years, a member of the royal family will initiate a new line of protectors.”
Murmurs erupted in the crowd and the cheering grew louder as Ayahliss stepped forward and knelt before Armeo. In danger of choking up, Kellen forced herself to think of the scene from last night when Ayahliss and Armeo had “practiced” and eventually ended up giggling on the floor, much to the chagrin of the newly appointed court officials. Kellen, who knew how nervous Ayahliss was about the ceremony, thought it was good to get all potential nervous giggles out of the way.
Ayahliss looked up at Armeo as he extended his right hand to his new marshal of the realm, a young man whose grandfather and father had held the position before him. The marshal handed over a deep red cape lined with silver threads. Armeo took it and reverently held it for a moment before he addressed Ayahliss and the several hundred thousand people who filled the big field outside the ruins and the streets of Ganath.
“People of Gantharat.” His young voice echoed through the city via the sound system. “I am honored to initiate a new member of the royal court. Almost thirty years ago, we lost most of our protectors when the occupation commenced that left Gantharat in the shadows for decades. We now know that greedy, corrupt leaders, not the majority of the Onotharian people, wanted them destroyed. I stand before you as your prince, but also as an Onotharian, and that is how we must proceed as a nation. We must remember that the Onotharian people still suffer on a depleted planet, and despite the way the occupiers have mismanaged it, Gantharat is still very rich in natural resources. We can afford to share with those who have less.”
Kellen monitored the reaction to Armeo’s words. They were his own, drafted over weeks and only slightly edited by his grandmother. Most of the people looked adoringly at the young O’Saral Royale, but a few frowned. The hatred toward the Onotharians ran deep with some.
“It is my pleasure that my first official duty is a positive one. My friend Ayahliss, who has proved herself as a member of the resistance and as an unofficial member of my security detail, has completed her training. She will today receive the Ruby Red Cape of the Silver Order, the second-highest rank among protectors.”
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Armeo let the cape billow in the wind and then placed it around Ayahliss’s shoulders. He gave her his hand and she rose to stand in front of him.
“Prince Armeo,” she said, “I am now your protector and will serve as such. You and your family will be mine to keep safe, and I will do so with pride and self-sacrifice.” Ayahliss turned and bowed to the cheering public. She smiled broadly, walked over to Judge Beqq, who waited among the dignitaries, and kissed her. The judge had accepted a position as head negotiator and supreme judge on Gantharat earlier in the week.
Armeo looked relieved as he sat down on his renovated throne. He glanced over at Kellen and Rae, who gave him a discreet nod of approval. Kellen suppressed a smile at her blatant disregard for protocol.
*
The large villa, built inside the old palace walls by Gantharian masons and carpenters over the last four months, easily hosted the festivities for two hundred guests. Outside, five hundred more celebrated the return of the last O’Saral Royale. The three protectors were on duty overseeing the security arrangements, aided by their friends.
In the ballroom, Ayahliss danced with Amereena Beqq, surrounded by dignitaries from the closest sectors. Rae stood watching, a glass of water in her left hand, the right resting on her holster.
“Never quite relaxed around him, are you, Rae?” a male voice said. Marco Thorosac, leader of the Supreme Constellations, and his wife joined Rae at the far end of the dance floor.
“He’s my responsibility, and my son,” Rae said politely.
“I didn’t mean to criticize. On the contrary. You’re perfect for this job.”
“As a protector? Doubtful. I’m horrible with the rods and will never earn my Ruby Red suit and cape.” Rae shrugged.
“Perhaps not, but you will make a very good fleet admiral for the new Gantharian space fleet.”
“What?” Rae spun so fast she spilt water on her shoes.
“Marco,” his wife said, admonishing him. “I told you to pick a better time and place to ask her.”
“I’m stunned.” Rae looked at her father, who approached them, smiling broadly. “Dad. You knew about this.”
“I did.”
“As did I,” Kellen said from behind her. “Since this afternoon. Ewan made me promise not to say anything.”
“I’m speechless.” Rae looked around her, at the dancing people, the son of her heart, Kellen, whom she loved more than life itself, and her parents. “And I accept.”
“Splendid.” Councilman Thorosac beamed. “This deserves a toast. Gantharian champagne.” He motioned for a waiter with a large tray of champagne flutes.
Soon they all stood in a large circle, and Rae looked at them all as she toasted family, friends, colleagues, and subordinates who had all had a role in the liberation of Gantharat in general, and in her and Kellen’s life in particular. Other faces, the images of the individuals who had fought them every step of the way, lingered in her mind, but only to remind her why they needed to remain cautious. Hox M’Ekar was imprisoned, as was Trax M’Aldovar. Most of the Onotharian oppressors had gone into exile—some on Onotharat, others on home worlds farther away.
“I have another toast to make,” Kellen said, interrupting Rae’s thoughts. “To my wife, Rae, who dared to put her life and career on the line and marry a strange Gantharian woman and…love her…” Kellen swallowed hard, but crystal blue tears ran down her cheeks. “And love her and the boy she brought to the Gamma VI space station.”
“To Rae!” The voices around her echoed as they all raised their glasses. Rae returned the toast, but focused only on Kellen. She raised her free hand and wiped away the tears.
“To Kellen,” Rae whispered, out of earshot. “Who dared to love her captor and trust her with her heart.”
The music began again, and this time, knowing their subordinates were in control of security, Rae bowed before Kellen and asked her to dance.
About the Author
Gun Brooke resides in the countryside in Sweden with her very patient family. A retired neonatal intensive care nurse, she now writes full time, only rarely taking a break to create Web sites for herself or others and to do computer graphics. Gun writes both romances and sci-fi.
Visit Gun online at http://www.gbrooke-fiction.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/gunbach
Twitter: http://twitter.com/redheadgrrl1960
Tumblr: http://gunbrooke.tumblr.com/
Email: [email protected]
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