by Abella Ward
He rounded a corner and found the way blocked. A tall Aphrosian woman, almost as bulky as a T'shav, stood in the center of the corridor. Aphrosians were a thin, willowy people. There was no way this was a natural occurrence. So the hybridization program was for super soldiers. A smile quirked the woman's lips, her blue skin gleaming in the light. She held twin swords, each with the distinctive pinkish color of traluthian steel, loosely in her hands.
"Stay back," Ronan said, pushing Erica behind him. He eyed the Aphrosian woman, his gun at chest level. She seemed completely undisturbed by the weapon pointed at her. "I suggest you get out of my way, Aphrosian, unless you want your brains to paint the walls."
"How do you know that it won't be your brains?" the woman replied, her smirk widening. "Do you think I'd just be standing here if a simple blaster could kill me?"
"Then why aren't you attacking already?" Ronan narrowed his eyes. "You're not a guard. You're a test subject. So are you hoping to check your strength against mine?"
"I was always the sickly child growing up. But now… yes. Yes, I would very much like to see how science holds up to strength and training." She shifted into a fighting stance.
Ronan couldn't help but grin. It had been a long time since he had had a real fight. He dropped the gun to the floor and drew the broadsword he had taken from the guard.
"What are you doing?" Erica shouted, but her voice wasn't alone.
Another human woman, a little smaller and thinner than Erica but with the same brown hair and snub nose, dashed down the corridor behind the Aphrosian. The blue-skinned alien threw her arm out, shifting from a fighting to a protective stance. Erica gasped.
"Look here, buster," the other human seethed, glaring at him. "You touch a hair on my wife's head and I will kill you!"
Ronan saw the alarm in the Aphrosian's eyes, but he shifted out of fighting stance. He put his sword away and laughed. "Bethy, I assume."
The Aphrosian looked startled, but Bethy was looking past Ronan by this time. Twin squeals echoed down the corridor as Bethy and Erica rushed towards each other. They met halfway between the Aphrosian and T'shav, hugging and crying and laughing.
"How did you get here?' Bethy asked. "Why are you here?"
"Ronan bought me from that 'bridal service' place and when I told him about you he agreed to help me rescue you." Erica tugged her cousin's brown hair. "What about you? What are you doing here? And your wife? I saw the man that bought you!"
"He's the head of the base. He bought me for his sister, Tag here. Tag had a genetic disease that was killing her, and the only way to save her was to hybridize her DNA. He was afraid that the experiments meant to save her would actually kill her, and wanted her to have someone to be with before she underwent the procedure." Bethy turned and beamed at the Aphrosian, who smiled back uncertainly. "Well, one thing led to another, and I fell in love. And what's the story with you and Mr. Tough Guy here?"
Erica glanced back at him. "We're… together."
"Wow, don't overwhelm me with details," Bethy said, putting her hands on her hips.
"Bethy, let's not pry." The Aphrosian stepped forward and put an arm around the human's waist. "I hope you haven't killed anyone, T'shav. If you have not, then I am sure that I can convince my brother to let you stay, so that our wives may be reacquainted."
Stay? Ronan opened his mouth to tell her that they couldn't stay, but Erica squealed again and threw her arms around her cousin. Her eyes sparkled and she had such a big grin on her face that Ronan felt his heart sinking. He hadn't seen her this happy since he met her. Could he really ask her to leave her cousin after finding her again?
But he couldn't stay. He was a mercenary, a rogue. There was no life for him here, and if he lingered too long in one spot, it might start feeling like home.
Home was dangerous. With home came responsibility and guilt.
"I can't stay," he finally said.
Erica's smile faded. "What do you mean?"
"I can't stay. You can, if that's what you want. I won't make or expect you to come with me, Erica. But I need to keep going. I have more jobs to complete. So I have to go as soon as possible. And right now I have to get back to the ship and turn off its takeoff protocols or we–I–will be stranded here."
He walked away.
Erica followed him. She grabbed his arm, making him stop. "You'll come back after."
Ronan wet his lips but nodded. He left without another word.
Chapter Eleven: Erica
The room that Tag's brother had given her wasn't fancy by any means. It was rather small, and even if the bed was softer than what she had grown used to, she hated it. With Ronan in the next room and not beside her, she might as well have slept on a rock. It had been Ronan to request that they sleep in separate rooms. He wanted her to have some space, so she could make her decision with a clearer head. That didn't seem to be working out so well.
Erica twisted the blanket in her hands, staring blindly in the dark. After she told him about Lirreb's threats, he agreed to stay one night so she could make up her mind. He would be leaving in the morning. She had just tonight to choose whether to stay here with Bethy and Tag or go with Ronan.
It wasn't fair! Why should she have to choose between him and her cousin like this? This was a Walian-controlled world, Planchet wouldn’t dare to come looking for him here, would they? They could stay and be safe. Or better yet, they could rejoin Zon's fleet. Even the most powerful corporations in the United Species were terrified of him because he had far more supporters than they could ever have. Supporters who would fight for him.
She turned on her side, her hand going to her stomach. There was this to consider, too. Ronan wanted the baby. She wanted Ronan. Could they find a way to make it work?
Bethy had done her best to convince Erica to stay. She told her about all the things that the base had to offer. Entertainment, excitement, a place where her skills would be useful. And Erica had to admit it sounded good.
But the simple truth of the matter was that she didn't want to leave Ronan. Plus Bethy had Tag now. Would she just end up as the third wheel if she stayed here?
She threw on a robe and slipped out of the room. Ronan's was right beside hers, and she knocked lightly before keying the door open. The T'shav was sitting in bed, a holographic book on his lap. The story was projected into the air at the right angle and height for him to read. He turned off the book when he saw her.
"Erica, you should be sleeping."
She closed the door again and padded across the room, kneeling on the foot of his bed. "I can't sleep without you anymore."
He was very still for a long moment. Erica watched him, trying to guess what he was thinking. But with him that was impossible, so she crawled up the bed before straddling his hips and wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands rested on her hips.
"I can't sleep without you, either," he whispered, resting his head against hers.
"I can't make this decision without knowing something, Ronan. You were so happy when you saw I was pregnant. Do you want to be with me? To raise this baby together?"
Ronan stroked her hair from her face. "Yes."
"Do you want it enough to face your demons and return to Zon's fleet?"
A shudder moved through his body. He was silent for so long that she feared he wouldn’t answer. Finally, though, he brushed his lips against hers and nodded. It was all Erica needed. She kissed him back, gently at first but with growing fervor. Ronan's hands tightened on her hips, his body tensing as his fingers dug into her.
With a sigh, he relaxed again. His fingers traced her spine, his touch light, soothing. Erica moved her mouth to his jaw and neck and he sighed again. An intense feeling of connection build inside her as she explored her lover with her hands and mouth, tracing the lines of his body, feeling him shiver under her touch. He was giving her control, and that more than anything told her exactly what she needed to know.
"Let's get this off," she whispered, unfastening his
pleated kilt.
He lifted his hips to help her but otherwise was as complacent as a kitten. When she met his eyes he smiled, dimple flashing, and a surge of heat built in her core to match the warmth spreading from her heart. Moving slowly she undressed herself, watching with building excitement as his eyes trailed down her body, lingering here and there before returning to her face.
"You're so beautiful," she said, cupping his face. "So… so perfect."
Ronan returned her smile. "So are you. You're amazing. You really are."
She straddled him again, bodies pressed together. Her hips roved in tight circles, making her lover groan, his head falling back. Her motions built the tightness in her own core and Erica buried her face in his neck. She kissed and suckled on his skin, loving the taste of him, and the way he rolled himself to her, his hands alternatively clinging and stroking her back. Her movements became fast and faster, soft cries emitting from both of their throats. Erica never wanted this slow build-up to end, but Ronan's kisses were becoming more and more desperate–he needed her.
And she was more than happy to give him back the control as willingly as he had given it to her.
She leaned back, trusting him to hold her, and Ronan shifted to his knees, her thighs still clasped tight around his hips. He laid her down on the bed and entered in one motion, causing shockwaves to burst through every inch of Erica's body. She threw her head back, just able to stop herself from screaming. Ronan smoothed her hair back and kissed her before settling down, arms still around her. He started a steady, slow rhythm, his black eyes intent on her brown ones.
They had never made love before. It had been just sex until now. Even as Ronan's pace got faster and faster, building the eminent explosion inside her, they never stopped looking at each other. Erica pulled him closer, wishing that their bodies could just melt together and for this to last forever.
Ronan, for the first time, finished before her. He used his fingers to bring her to her completion. Afterward, they lay entwined in body, both on their sides so they could stay joined.
"I don't want you to leave me," she whispered, her chest still heaving, her heart still pounding. "I never want you to leave me."
"I won't. I promise. I will be with you forever." He smiled softly. "You know, it's T'shav tradition that our souls are born in stars. But sometimes—"
"Sometimes a single star will birth two souls, and they will always find each other." Erica smiled. "I've heard. It's awfully romantic."
"I never believed it. Not until… Not until right now. I don't know if it's real or not, but I think I may have just found my Starmate." Ronan pulled her closer. "I love you, Erica Chase."
Erica grinned. She laughed softly, feeling like she was going to burst from happiness. "I love you, too."
The door burst open. Erica screamed, searching for a blanket to cover herself. Tag strode into the room, her expression dark and angry. Both her swords were out. She ignored Erica, focusing instead on Ronan.
"Get dressed, T'shav. We're under attack."
Chapter Twelve: Ronan
Ronan and Tag walked side by side down the corridors. Both had blasters in their hands and their swords strapped to their backs. They had ushered Bethy and Erica to a safe room before taking to the corridors, joining with the security forces to drive off the attackers. The Aphrosian kept shooting questioning glances at the T'shav, but he ignored them. Now was not the time for conversation.
"Hold." Ronan held up a fist.
The distinctive thudding of boots echoed up the corridor towards them. He nodded at Tag and gestured towards a doorway on one side of the corridor, then hid himself in an alcove across from her. The Aphrosian considered her blaster, then holstered it. She drew the twin blades from her back and grinned. She had a point–firearms weren't well suited to close-quarter combat.
Ronan drew his own blade. The weight of the broadsword was so familiar in his hands that he forgot for a moment how long it had been since he had wielded one. His muscles remembered exactly how to use it.
Aliens wearing Planchet uniforms ran down the corridor. They didn't notice the two warriors waiting in ambush until it was too late. Ronan launched himself on them with a roar. He swung the sword, the familiar swish as it severed the air and struck through the nearest neck sparking an ancient bloodlust in his veins. Tag slipped in like a shadow, her blades striking with deadly accuracy.
The Planchets raised their guns, but it did them no good. Ronan cleaved a great swath through them, driving into the center of the group. Tag backflipped over the group and landed behind him. She laughed as she spun in circles. They guarded each other's backs as they cut down their enemies.
It was over in seconds. Tag wiped her blades off on the uniforms of the fallen.
"Well, this is rather exciting, isn't it?" Tag grinned.
"Not as exciting as it would be if I were alone, but I get what you're saying."
"We have to have that duel sometime. But for now, I'm glad you're on our side."
"Don't take it personally. I'd be out of here already if Planchet was just after your corporate information." Ronan explained briefly his history with Lirreb. "He must have tracked me here and decided it was a perfect excuse to be able to attack the base and steal some information at the same time as abducting me."
Tag scowled. "I wondered why they would make such an obvious attack on a Walian base. But if they have you as an excuse, they might be able to get away with causing untold destruction here." Her swords rose slightly. "So I guess the question is, do I help you get away and hope Planchet chases you, or do I turn you over to them?"
"They also want Erica," Ronan pointed out. "And I don't think Bethy would be happy if you let Planchet take her."
"True… my little wife certainly demands her own way." The Aphrosian grinned suddenly. "Is yours the same?"
Ronan inclined his head. "I thought she would be a sweet submissive companion. I was very wrong. And I'm glad I was."
"Hmm. I'll tell my brother what you told me. If the Planchet Corporation is really this desperate to get their hands on you, then we won't be able to stop them. Walian is still quite small, we don't have the resources to fend off a siege. And if they get Bethy… well, they might take her claiming they were 'liberating' her or some such nonsense and then use her for their own purposes. So the safest place, for her and Erica both, is in the Zon Sanctuary. If we can get there, perhaps he will grant us asylum."
"Us?" Ronan quirked a brow. "You're coming?"
"I go where Bethy goes. And Bethy goes where she'll be safe, whether she likes it or not. Besides, she has been trying to convince me to find her cousin ever since we met. I doubt she'll be happy if I split them up now."
Ronan nodded. His kneejerk reaction was to just leave Bethy and Tag here, but his gut told him he could trust the Aphrosian. It was clear she loved her little human, just as Ronan loved his own. He headed back towards the safe room, Tag walking with him. She used her comm to explain the situation to her brother. He confirmed that the Planchets had asked for Ronan shortly after their initial attack. He was giving them half an hour to get away before he handed the T'shav over.
They made it to the safe room without incident and retrieved their women, explaining the plan as they headed out of the building. Bethy kept asking questions and Ronan had to resist the urge to tell her to shut up. He also had to resist the urge to sling Erica over his shoulder and run with her.
The ship was docked on the third level of the Walian base, Ronan having parked it there after disengaging the takeoff protocol. The little group reached it quickly. But just as they dashed across the open space, gunfire erupted from behind them.
Bethy cried out, stumbling. Tag shouted and dove over her, tucking the human in a ball and rolling a few times to hide the two of them behind some barrels of coolant. The Aphrosian knelt, firing rapidly at the Planchets that were charging Ronan and Erica.
"We can't leave them!" Erica shouted as Ronan scooped her up into one arm.
>
He fired back at the Planchets haphazardly, running towards the ship. His first concern was Erica's safety. Once she was out of the line of fire he could come back for Tag and Bethy. Blaster bolts showered down from every side, some barely missing him, some wide from their mark. They were certainly scraping the bottom of the barrel on this attack—probably because it was only the first wave.
Send in the cannon fodder first, tire their enemies out before sending in a skilled crew. Clever.
He dashed into the ship, depositing Erica in the main room. "Get into the medical bay and seal yourself in. I'll be back with Bethy and Tag shortly."
Erica's eyes were wide but she nodded. "Don't get shot."
He kissed her hard once more before he turned. He hadn't gone more than two steps before a T'shav appeared in the doorway. Ronan brought up his gun while reaching for his sword–but it was too late. He dimly heard Erica screaming behind him, but she sounded so far away. Everything seemed to go terrifyingly slow. He couldn't get his muscles to move quickly enough.
The T'shav drove his broadsword through his chest. Ronan saw it go in, felt the white-hot pain, but his mind refused to connect that with his body. He let off a shot from his blaster, barely missing the T'shav. In response, his attacker knocked the weapon from his hand.
When the blade was withdrawn, Ronan fell to his knees. Darkness swirled around him. Erica was still screaming. He couldn't make himself move, no matter how hard he fought to do so. Hands grabbed his shoulders. A high, keening voice was in his ear. He managed to look to see Erica beside him. Her arms wrapped around him and tears flowed freely down her face.
"No! No! Ronan, no, please no!" She kissed him hard, again and again.
His strength was failing him. He collapsed. Erica ripped his shirt open. The T'shav stood over them, bloody sword still in hand, gazing down without pity. Ronan's hand brushed Erica's hair. He tried to tell her to run, to leave him, but his voice wouldn't work. He couldn't feel his heart beating.
