by Imogene Nix
“Fine. What are we supposed to be doing now?”
Chowd had started pacing, something he only did in the depths of agitation. It bothered her that whatever concerned him or had occurred, he still felt unable to share it with her. The thought hurt, but she accepted that it wasn’t about her.
“I need to arrange the security detail, find out the schedule of meetings and meals. However, I can’t do that until Jod comes back with the timetable.” He moved back to the window, and Meredith had to hold back a sigh as he once more looked sightlessly out of it.
The silence stretched as she watched him. The feeling of helplessness didn’t sit well, but at this point she couldn’t do anything else. Maybe she could talk to Jemma, but as quickly as that thought came, she discarded it. With Chowd in charge of the mission, it seemed wrong to discuss him with another member of the team. Right now, she wished for either Mellissa or even Elara so she could seek their advice. A slow friendship had formed between herself and Jemma, but she still felt wary of asking a lot just yet. While she thought she sat, her head dropped back to the arm of her conformable seat.
“Meredith?” His voice intruded on her thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me...whatever happens, you will stay safe?”
The question had her head snapping back up, her eyes seeking his. She hated the distance she could see in them. Doubt, so deep and cold, settled in her chest, along with an unhealthy dose of despair. What did he think would happen? The fear gripped her chest like an iron vise, squeezing her breath from her lungs, choking her.
“I will if you will.” What else could she say? Yes? She knew that was the answer he wanted, but what was the point of promising to stay safe if he couldn’t or wouldn’t do the same?
“Meredith...please. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
“I’ll try. But you need to as well. I...” She stopped and cleared her throat, starting again. “I can’t...I can’t go back without you.” The words I love you lodged in her throat.
He nodded, but the action didn’t make her feel any better. “I’m going to go see where Jod is. I need to talk to him.” He turned abruptly and left her sitting on the seat, the emptiness crushing her spirit as hot, salty tears began to fall.
Chapter 12
Chowd paced as the anxiety ate at him. He understood Meredith’s confusion; hell, she had every right to be blazingly angry at his attitude. However, right at this very moment, he felt fear that someone would recognize him. If they worked out his identity... He’d seen the look the security officer flashed his way. A slow burn of anger started once more in his gut. He hadn’t asked for the dubious honor of his birth, but each time he turned around it hit him in the face.
He wanted to scream, throw something, anything to relieve the pressure, but he couldn’t. No, in all honesty, he’d known that at some point this millstone around his neck would come back to drag him to the depths of hell. He closed his burning eyes. For one brief time, though, he had known physical closeness with another human, and that warmed him.
Meredith shouldn’t have to deal with this mess. He turned away from the thoughts, cutting them off, and yet the pain didn’t go away. It burned through him. None of it was his fault, yet he would have to deal with the ramifications and possibly—probably—hurt her. Something he never planned on doing when they got involved.
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and he looked around to see Jod Svan’Er striding toward him. “You’re ready to begin then?”
Chowd nodded in silence as Jod indicated the direction they needed to take toward the meeting chamber. Neither man felt the need for talk, and Chowd relaxed. He absorbed a steady stream of information regarding corridor layouts and doorway placements. Here he could see a security vid feed, there a palm pad. Well-armed guards stood at attention at locations along the walkways and corridors.
“They are well trained?” Chowd asked.
“Each of the guards located here have been specially chosen. Their backgrounds are thoroughly investigated. Many are members from the ruling houses, lesser sons of lesser sons. They are trained from a young age, and we test their psychological status as well to ensure that they are compatible with the roles,” Jod answered.
That gave Chowd pause. “And your position?” He stopped, for the first time wondering who Jod was the son of.
“My father is the high senator. Esrau Svan’Er.” He gave a half-smile before bowing.
“So, how does that affect your position?” The idea of a son of the most senior senator guarding them intrigued him. He wanted to know more, a desire he had brushed aside his whole life, yet it drove him to understand his roots.
“I was placed with the Guardian Guild at around ten cycles. As a lesser son, it was a way I could bring honor to my house.” Jod paused and shrugged. “I had to have some form of employment and training. I was educated, fed, housed, and trained. In time, I will probably become the head of the Senate guard or some other security posting, depending if my father lives that long. We tend to promote within families.”
Chowd considered this information. “What about those from outside the families? What chance of advancement is there for them?” The thought that the decisions of his father affected the entire family disturbed Chowd.
“There is little room. From time to time, somebody will rise up, but that doesn’t happen very often. They need to be capable of something extraordinary as a healer, craftsman, or other such skills. If you’re thinking about the members of your family, while they would not be removed from their positions, and many are almost hereditary positions, the lack of a Sur Banden taking the seat in the Senate means that there is no one to advocate for them, unless by marriage or by strategic alliance.”
Chowd waited quietly for just a moment. “What about other things? Justice and so on?” For some reason, he felt an urgency to understand just how far the ramifications of his father’s action had rippled.
“Justice is meted out by the head of the house. Given that there was no member who could rightly claim that position, there were...altercations. A distant cousin has taken over the position as head. However, as he is not of the main line, he was refused the right to take the seat on the Senate. Anyway, his position is precarious, and he rules, some might say, using might rather than knowledge.” Jod shrugged. “He is harsh in handing out sentences, but generally all members abide by his rulings.”
Chowd got the uncomfortable feeling that Jod was scrutinizing his reactions. “Should I... How would it be received if I...” The words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want the position of head...did he?
His confusion angered him deeply. He wasn’t usually given to this level of indecision. He probably owed the members of the house something, but what? He could state his case, but that would probably cause trouble in itself. He growled deep in his throat as he considered the options open to him.
“Should you meet with him? I don’t know.” Jod cocked his head to one side. “It depends on what you intend to do now that you have this information. There are members of the household here. One in particular is of the main line. I am sure he would be willing to meet without letting anyone else know your intentions or thoughts.”
“Let me think about it.” But even as he replied, he reminded himself that time grew short. If he wanted to meet with them, he would need to arrange it soon.
Jod nodded in silence, and they moved on.
* * * *
The food came in, the metallic tray carried by the serving women. Lately, Crick Sur Banden had taken to muting the light, but the women complained they couldn’t see, and this had resulted in more than one accident involving spilled food.
Their eyes darted hither and thither, avoiding his questing gaze, their movements jerky as if expecting something to burst up and smite them, which it very well could if they angered him further. He smiled, baring razor-sharp teeth, and watched as the women quaked in front of him. He derived great entertainment from their reactions and nearly lau
ghed out loud.
He felt good when they displayed their fear for him. These cows were only here for his comfort, after all. The thought buoyed him, making him feel masculine and more than a little aroused.
“You!” he bellowed, and all the women in the room paled, their gazes flicking to him nervously.
Which one would he command this time? The one by the door would do. She was young and reasonably fresh.
“Come here!”
She looked around, and his frustration rose. He had commanded, and they must do his bidding.
“I said get over here!”
Realization dawned, clear in the way she stopped still then bowed deeply before she slowly moved forward. His need had grown for days, and a female companion would satisfy his urges. He smiled. She looked comely enough, at the moment anyway.
“My Lord?” she whispered nervously, her eyes wide and skin pale, her body shaking before him.
She sweated profusely, the salty tang filling the air and souring his stomach. Fury spiked in his veins, the carnal need evaporating as rage took its place. He wavered then upended the tray of food to the floor with a clatter. Food wouldn’t stop the pitch of his belly now.
“Get out!” He jerked his body upright, and all the women moved faster than he would have given them credit for, reaching the door and disappearing from view. Even the young one he’d commanded had left, and his body relaxed once the taint in the air was removed. The need that had rocketed through his system had fled like water down a fast-running drain.
“Whores. They’re all whores.” The sound of his words in the air pleased him.
The crew of his ship, nothing more than frightened Yock rabbits, bowed and scraped to him. He’d replaced his second-in-command with another youngster. But this one he would have to watch.
His head ached viciously again. He needed more Xeradax. Depressing the commbutton exhausted him, but he waited for the voice to answer. “My Lord?”
“Bring me medication.” He flicked off the unit.
If they refused, he would repay them. He had plenty more to choose from.
The chimes of the door rang, irritating him. “Who is it?”
“Ve’Jar, My Lord. I come with news.”
The firm voice captured his attention. News? What news could he have? Perhaps this news was the capture or at least knowledge of the location of the Elector. That would be the perfect piece of intelligence. Once he destroyed it, then he could consider sending the Phobos pirates to destroy the Admiralty on Aenna. Of course, he had to ensure that the Phobos pirates, stinking creatures that they were, understood the need to wait until he could attend the destruction.
His alliance with the Phobos pirates had become rather tiring of late. They demanded more of him. More resources, more funding, more men. The knowledge that he would soon dissolve their agreement gave him a small measure of relief.
As soon as I have fortified my troops enough to mount an attack on Earth, then I will dissolve the agreement. I’m not ready yet, but soon I will have the resources I need. He rubbed his hands with glee at the thought of those humans finally reduced to nothing more than the refuse of their solar system.
“Come.”
“My Lord, I have news that the Phobos pirates tried an attack on the Elector. It was unsuccessful.”
“Destata! What did they do that for? I authorized no such attack!” Anger coursed through his system once more.
The Phobos pirates had started exceeding the terms of the agreement, and for a moment his mind weighed up the necessity of keeping them on side. He only needed them to defeat the Admiralty, then he would give the order for their destruction. The thought didn’t calm him though. His thoughts splintered. Xeradax. I need my Xeradax. Where is it?
“Is there still a contingent of rogues near Phobos III?” He would need to teach them a lesson. His mind see-sawed now between competing issues, his hand sliding into pockets, searching for the pills that would clear his mind. Surely he had some left?
“Yes.” His new second stood silent while he waited for orders, and once more Crick was filled with wariness for this newly promoted rogue.
“Order an attack. Take no prisoners. We’ll teach them a lesson about following my orders.”
His rogue bowed and left the room as the medic scurried in. He tore the small, black capsules from his hands and swallowed them, waiting for the relief he craved.
* * * *
The meal tasted much better than that on the mothership. This time, at least Meredith could work out what she ate. The pieces of meat and vegetables were marginally identifiable, and she enjoyed the traditional music that filled the air.
The senators had also welcomed the crew and ambassador, more so than she had experienced aboard the ship. The women, seated further down, kept sending her glances. No doubt they wondered why she sat with the official party. Meredith made a mental note to talk to them.
In the meantime she listened to the conversation that flowed around her. Each of the senators had surprised her with their ability to talk in the basic human language.
“Of course, there are some houses that are not represented. Chiefly among those absent is the house of Sur Banden.”
Chowd’s line of questioning had baffled her up until this point of the conversation. So now I understand why he asked about the hereditary status of the houses. On his return from the inspection of the meeting chamber, he’d seemed aloof and distant, at least until he had taken her in his arms and kissed her. Then those worries had been forgotten.
Meredith tugged on the collar of her formal uniform as the heat of the memory bloomed, and she looked over toward him. His face was more drawn than usual, the fine features and high cheekbones accented with hollows, his eyes shadowed, and for the first time, the term ‘haunted’ came to mind.
The meal ended, and the ambassador and senators headed into the comfortable room beyond. She was surprised when, on inquiring if he required her translation skills, the ambassador had declined.
What else could she do? One look at Chowd showed him deep in conversation with Jod again. The fact that the two had become almost inseparable started to grate, but it was, after all, a mission.
She made her way over to the women who gathered at the other end of the room. “Greetings.”
The one she picked as their leader, based on her bright clothing and ornate hair arrangement, bowed low and murmured, “Greetings.”
“Forgive me, but you seem to have a position of authority.” The woman inclined her head, and Meredith smiled. “The Earth Empire and its allied planets encourage women to take positions of authority. I understand that is not the case for you.”
One of the women hissed slightly, and Meredith looked around.
“That is not appropriate conversation.” The younger woman looked nervous, and for an instant, Meredith wondered if her thoughtless remark would stop the conversation before it started, but the older woman laid a soft hand on the younger one’s arm.
“Be calm,” she said, then turned her attention back to Meredith. “While we are here on the station, we do have a wider amount of freedom. Many of our men—” She glanced meaningfully toward the room beyond. “—are more forward thinking than their predecessors. They understand that we feel a great sense of fulfillment when we have the freedom to do things and make decisions for ourselves. They are very...liberated.” She smiled softly, and Meredith felt encouraged at this.
Some men, but not all. The unspoken words weren’t lost on her.
“Hush, Veshnartu. We should not be discussing this,” the younger woman implored.
“No. If we want change, we must ask for help to affect it. Our men are open to these suggestions. I want to see our women have opportunities to be something more than a drudge.” The woman, Veshnartu, turned back to Meredith. “You understand, don’t you? I cannot see you being subservient to a man, no matter who he is.” She smiled broadly. “And he is such a man.” Her eyes glinted with amusement.
�
��Indeed, it’s true. I am the senior cryptologist.”
The women’s confused expression betrayed their ignorance of the term.
“Err, I decode messages and languages.”
The younger woman squinted at her. “You have learned other languages?”
“Yes, I can read and write eight languages. That includes the basic language of your homeworlds. As well as that, I can also work most cryptological programs, meaning I am versed in the use of programming systems to decode languages that I cannot read or write.”
The younger woman’s eyes grew large.
Veshnartu smiled. “If only I had the chances you have as a younger woman, I too would have traveled the stars. But I cannot complain. I have a man who chose me to be his mate, I have carried five children and seen my sons grow up to become important men. Although I feel Jod will surpass the others in opportunities.”
The information startled Meredith and she couldn’t control the involuntary question. “Jod Svan’Er?”
The woman smiled slightly. “Yes. His older brother is destined to take the place of his father, and my other son will become a priest in the temples. My daughters have the opportunities to become mates to other Senate hopefuls. I worry more about their future, yet they are in a better position than most.” Veshnartu sat down heavily. “Our women have few rights. My mate is working to change that within our house and those who owe us, but it will take a long time for them to find a way to make such changes. Meanwhile, the women of our houses are abducted to be little more than servicers.”
“Perhaps once the treaty is finalized, there may be a way to send your daughters to us for training so they can enjoy a future as productive members of your society.” Meredith snapped her mouth shut. Barsha! I have spoken beyond my authority. Yet she felt deeply that this was the future for the daughters of these women.
Veshnartu nodded. “That may be something we can consider. I will think on it.” Then she smiled. “What house is your man from? He is a Ru’Edan? Hybrid?”
