by Tasha Black
But before the thought was fully formed, he knew it was useless. Serena was obstinate as a mule. She would never let go of this issue, and God help him if he tried to convince her. It would be hell to be her husband in those circumstances.
It honestly would be hell to be her husband anyway.
They had started off their relationship sharing their love of politics and community, and of course each of them was aiming to do great things. Serena’s reach to the end districts certainly made her more attractive in Ramm’s eyes.
But the love between them personally was always a little… lacking for Ramm’s tastes.
He had been raised in a home where women focused on loving their family and not on political arguments. Ramm’s mother had stayed home to program the droids and arrange Agro and Commute for the family, and—
Oh.
His thumb dropped out of his mouth as it hit him.
What if he could convince Serena to stay home with the whelp? She would have to leave the Parliament, and he could make noises about not stepping on her legislature for her comeback if she asked him to introduce that pesky bill.
They might start off saying she would work again when the little one was in school, but in Ramm’s experience, inertia was typically sufficient to keep an unemployed person unemployed.
“She’ll never agree to it,” he muttered, remembering who he was dealing with.
But then it occurred to him that she wouldn’t have to agree to it.
At least not right away.
He would set the bait by dangling her pet project.
Then he would close the trap on her as soon as the babe was born. She’d be exhausted from the lack of sleep and sick with love for the child. And if she wasn’t, a little sedative in her coffee would do the trick.
Satisfied with his brilliant logic and the elegant simplicity of his plan, Ramm touched the communicator code on his wrist.
15
Serena
Serena lay on the soft bed, half dozing as Oz bathed.
After an incredible five-course breakfast and a massage from her doting mate, she felt warm and peaceful all over.
When her communicator dinged, she startled into a seated position.
At least she tried.
Her belly was so large she found herself rolling backward again before she could make it all the way up.
“Good grief,” she muttered, touching her wrist and rolling onto her side.
She realized too late that the tone was a special one.
The outrageously patriotic and slightly problematic lyrics of Terra-40’s Bright Eyes signaled that her ex-fiancé was calling.
And she had just picked up.
She managed to prop herself up slightly before his image sprung to life over her wrist.
The blankets likely covered her condition, but now that he could see her, there was no point trying to adjust them.
“Ramm,” she said, trying and failing to imagine why he would call.
His only good-bye to her when he left her at the altar two weeks ago was an e-box note that said simply:
It’s not going to work.
Best,
Ambassador Ramm Vox
“Serena,” he purred, smiling the way he always smiled at his least favorite petitioners. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. How are you?” she replied with a big, fake smile of her own.
Two could play at this game.
“Serena, I made a mistake,” he said quietly.
She blinked at him, completely thunderstruck.
Ramm Vox never admitted to a mistake.
“I was afraid,” he went on. “Marriage is a big commitment, and I just got a little case of cold feet. But I’ve regretted it every day since.”
“Really?” Serena asked.
She had felt rejected and inconsolable for about a day after she got the message, and then as time passed, she realized she felt nothing more than relief.
Her relationship with Ramm had felt right for all the wrong reasons. He understood her career demands, and he shared her passion for politics.
But there had never been any real warmth between them.
It would have been a marriage of companionship, convenience and… well, political influence.
But then all the old worlds had been built on sacrificing women to loveless marriages in order to secure alliances.
And Ramm certainly could have helped her end the Cerulean occupation.
“Say something, Serena, please,” he implored.
“Ramm, it’s too late,” she said at last. “And I think it’s for the best. When you meet the right woman, you won’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” he said quickly. “I’m only afraid that you won’t come back. That we’ll lose all we’ve worked for.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He frowned. “You clearly haven’t got a team watching polling numbers.”
“You know I don’t,” she said. “And I’m on an intergalactic flight, so it’s not exactly what I’m focusing on at the moment.”
“Well, your numbers have dropped,” he said, with a strange expression.
“Why?” she asked, dumbfounded. Her own constituency hadn’t been wild about her allying with a snooty Terra-40 leader like Ramm. They should have been pleased about the break-up.
“So have mine,” he told her.
She blinked at him.
“Come home, Serena,” he said. I’ll send a PostHaste for you. Come back and we’ll unite our forces. We’ll have a Parliamentary majority. We can end the Cerulean occupation.”
She stared at him, and he looked back at her.
He was serious.
“I thought you didn’t want that,” she said.
He looked down at his hands, then back up at her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think since you’ve been gone, Serena. Time to think about us. And time to think about what you said. The occupation isn’t good for our people. It might solve some temporary policing problems, but you’re right, we can solve those on our own.”
She smiled at him, her first genuine smile of the whole conversation. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Ramm.”
He smiled back, eyes twinkling. “So you’ll come home?”
“I don’t need to,” she said. “We can unite our powers without a marriage. Together we can make it happen.”
He scowled and rubbed his chin.
She could see that his left thumb was bleeding a little. He must have been biting his nails again.
He was nervous.
“Ramm, are you okay?” she asked.
“I need you, Serena,” he whined. “I love you, and I need you. I don’t understand why you won’t give me another chance. You need me, too.”
“I do need you,” she replied, meaning to tell him she needed his political support, but she didn’t need him in a personal way, not anymore.
But she suddenly realized the sound of the waterfall in the wash room had stopped.
She turned, but there was no sign of Oz. He was probably still dressing.
“Listen, Ramm, I’ve got to go,” she said. “But I’m very excited about our legislation. Let’s get together right away when I’m back.”
She touched her communicator before he could argue.
Then she fell back against her pillow and rubbed one palm over her vast belly.
“I’m going to bring you into a better world than the one I grew up in,” she promised the baby.
16
Ozmarck
Oz leaned against the door, his strength sapped in the wake of what he had just heard.
All his joy and buoyant happiness brought down low by a few words.
You need me too.
I do need you.
And maybe it was true.
Maybe there was more to Serena’s life than happiness for herself.
For a person like Serena, who had given her life to public service, maybe passing a bill would be more meaningful
than anything Oz could offer her.
I can’t offer her anything, he admitted to himself.
His own career was built on dangerous travel.
Right now, in their little bubble, his job was to protect her. But when they needed credits again, he would have to leave her and the child, and put himself in harm’s way - soul pledged to serve his next client until his contract was up.
He clenched his fists, wishing he could break something. He was ready to knock down a wall with this fury that overran him.
Why did some beings have full lives, lives that mattered, and others lived only to grovel?
That’s what she’s trying to fix.
But our baby…
And though it should have made him happy, it saddened him to think that he had chained her to him with his seed.
They were bound together now by the baby.
Bound…
Something terrible occurred to him.
He pushed off the door and paced back toward the bathing pond, frantic to move.
But he could not escape his own thoughts, they came to him unbidden.
The baby needs our mate bond. Even at this stage, if there is no mate bond, there will be no baby.
He couldn’t abandon her, he just couldn’t.
And even if he wanted that, how could he choose to leave her and risk the baby’s health?
So that generations of other people’s babies can live free of occupation.
He sank to his knees on the grasses and buried his face in his hands.
17
Serena
Serena awoke feeling stiff and overheated.
She stretched as she opened her eyes, wondering how long Oz had let her nap.
He wasn’t in the room with her anymore.
She wondered if he had run to get more food.
She decided to get up and stretch her legs. But when she pulled off the blankets, she was frozen with surprise.
Her belly was enormous.
She eased herself out of bed as quickly as she dared and moved to the mirrored wardrobe.
The startled looking woman gazing back at her looked at least eight months pregnant, maybe more…
“Oz,” she called.
But there was no answer.
Where was he?
At this rate, she might be in labor before he came back.
She ambled back to the bed to grab her communicator band that she’d left on the bedside table.
A note lay beside it.
She grabbed for it, telling herself everything was fine, even as her heart sank.
Serena,
I love you more than you will ever know.
But I have been selfish.
Your destiny is more important than my love.
Without our bond, the pregnancy will disappear. You will be free to go back to your people and accomplish all the good you intend to do for them, and for the universe.
I will never love another.
But I am letting you go with a light heart, knowing everything that awaits you in your brilliant future.
-Oz
Serena sobbed in a ragged breath and then screamed it out, crumpling the note in her hand as she cried.
Fuck these stupid little men, and their stupid little notes.
The rage at his selfishness washed away as she took in the full meaning of his message. She dropped the crumpled note to place both hands on her belly, where she could feel the life within her.
“I am having this baby,” she said out loud. “Do you hear me, baby? Don’t you dare even think about disappearing. We are in this together, and I don’t care if I have to catch him in a net and keep him behind bars to extend the bond, you will be born before I let him go.”
But realistically she had no idea where he had gone, or how long she had to get him back. The ship was enormous…
It hit her that the doctor might be able to help.
She hit the room communicator and called up the holo directory.
A few minutes later a tone told her she was being connected.
“Dr. Phalania Bryx,” the doctor said in a bored voice as her small, furry form appears in the hologram.
“Oh, thank goodness, doctor,” Serena sighed. “I need your help.”
“Dear lord, look at you,” the doctor said, swiping the fur out of her dark eye to get a better look. “You’re progressing very quickly, but you don’t need me quite yet.”
“No, no, not for the delivery,” Serena said. “It’s Oz, he’s gone.”
“Gone?” the doctor sounded shocked. “Where the hell would he go? You’re about to go into labor.”
“He left a note,” Serena said. “Something about not wanting to mess up my future. Anyway, he said that if he left the baby would disappear. I can’t lose this baby. Please…help me.”
The tears that had been threatening burst from her eyes and for a moment Serena couldn’t even see the holo image before her.
She wiped her eyes and looked up.
The doctor looked furious. “First of all, that was an exceptionally cruel thing he did to you. Secondly, he’s dead wrong. You’re far enough along, and you’re human, not Maltaffian. Most likely, your gestation will simply slow to a human timeframe. Looks to me like you’ll have another two to three weeks of pregnancy.”
“I-I will?” Serena breathed.
“You will,” the doctor said kindly. “Make sure you get your hands on ample food and vitamins. The speed of the pregnancy so far will take its toll without him there, so you need to take good care of yourself.”
“Of course,” Serena said.
“Not of course,” the doctor said. “Really. Order in the supplies right away. I’m going to dial in a prescription for you, so I know you’re getting the supplements you need. And try to get some rest.”
“Yes,” Serena agreed. “I will. Thank you again, Doctor.”
“I’ve been pre-paid, and your lousy ex got you a great deal,” the doctor said wryly. “I charged based on the expectation of having a client for a week, tops.”
“I would understand if you wanted to—” Serena began.
“Don’t be silly,” the doctor cut her off. “I’m happy to help.”
The transmission ended.
Serena took a deep breath and stroked her belly in a calming way.
“We’re going to be okay,” she told the baby. “And we have a little time.”
18
Ozmarck
Oz strode into the seediest bar the luxury cruiser had to offer.
He wasn’t accustomed to drowning his sorrows in drink, but somehow, he couldn’t bear to be alone.
Here, in the shadows of the below deck bar, he hoped to begin his new life, at least until he could get off the ship at the next port and find real work.
It would be exactly the same as his old life on paper, but with the realization of everything he could have had.
It would be a life spent in the cruel net of a bond that couldn’t be realized.
A vision of Serena, her belly ripe with his child, appeared behind his eyelids and he shook his head to clear it.
She was no longer his. Though he would be hers until his dying breath - perhaps beyond that, if his people’s spirituality held true.
But his ethereal human mate would get over him as they said in the old Terran cell-films.
He approached the bar, feeling half-invisible.
“Well, it fracking didn’t work,” a big Cerulean with a feather earring was declaring to his two friends.
“I still don’t understand what the paint was supposed to signify,” one of his companions said, sliding a pair of digi-specs up his nose.
Oz’s spine stiffened as he realized what they were talking about. He had better hearing than most creatures would ever suspect - it ran in his blood - but he was usually able to tune out personal conversations around him. He was glad he’d been too distracted to overlook this particular one.
He held perfectly still and listened.
/> “It’s blue, like we’re blue,” the third Cerulean explained, running a hand through his blond hair. “See?”
“Well, sure, but I mean what was she supposed to think?” Digi-specs asked.
“She’s supposed to think she’d better not mess with us,” the blond one spat.
“I know the boss wanted to keep the heat off us,” said the one with the feather. “But that’s what you get for hiring a Terran to do the job of a Cerulean.”
The blond and the one with the digi-specs nodded quietly. Feather was clearly their leader.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked Oz.
“Scotch rocks,” he said quietly.
To his immense relief, the Ceruleans didn’t even notice him.
“So what do you think the meeting is about?” Digi-specs asked the leader.
“Boss man probably wants to plan what we’re doing next,” Feather shrugged.
“In the Viceroy’s Suite?” Digi-specs asked, sounding impressed.
“Sure,” Feather said.
Blond was too busy preening to add anything.
“We probably ought to get up there, huh?” Digi-specs said.
Feather tossed back the rest of his drink just as the bartender slid Oz’s to him.
Oz placed down a couple of credits.
“Come on,” Feather said.
“Gimme a minute, I wanna give the waitress my number,” Blond said.
“Her?” Feather asked, raising an eyebrow.
They all looked over at the waitress. She was very tall and shapely with a twist of tentacles clinging to a wooden dowel on top of her smooth, oval head.
“Not a chance,” Feather chuckled.
“I have a chance,” Blond said, his voice petulant.
“Don’t be late,” Feather shrugged.
Blond grinned and grabbed a napkin.
Feather strode off, Digi-specs scrambled to keep up.
Oz turned back to Blond.
This was his chance.
He watched as the idiot offered the napkin to the waitress.
