by Robin Lovett
He presses the mute button on the monitor, so Nemona can’t hear, and he looks at me. “Are you sure this is wise? You’re talking about two more days, minimum, on a ship alone with me.”
My pulse leaps and thunders in my ears. Staring at his eyes, looking at him, it’s all there. Every moment of my shared dream with him, every kiss, every touch, every thrust, and every orgasm that his Exstare gave me.
I tear my gaze away. “I’ll endure anything to keep the rebellion alive. Even you.” I don’t mean to sneer it, but I’d rather that than breathlessness.
He sucks in a hard breath, then snaps, “Fine.” He taps the mute-off button. “Nemona, we’re in.”
“Excellent,” she says with a bright smile then turns to official orders again. “I’ll send you all the information you’ll need. The hub will be heavily guarded, full of Ten Systems soldiers, fighters, and who knows what other galactic scum. But given your ship’s stealth capabilities, sneaking aboard shouldn’t be a problem. Jenie, wearing your armor should allow you to make your way unopposed through the hub. The hard part will be locating the information in the hub’s memory banks and making certain that all traces of the communication are erased.”
“I’ll handle it. Send me all the files and information you can find on Lolly Galactic.”
“I will. Take care of yourself, Jenie.”
“You know me. Without a good adventure, I’m a waste.”
Nemona laughs lightly and gives our traditional sign-off. “The freedom to discover.”
“The value of life.”
The vid goes dark, and a host of messages, including files, stream through the console’s receptors.
“There’s the message with the Lolly Galactic coordinates.” I point. “Put that in the navigation first and—”
“I’ve got it,” he says with a bite of impatience. “I know what to do. I’ve even ridden the solar wind before, though not past the chaotic bubble.” He taps the location into the navigator. The hub pops up on the radar, and the computer starts the course calculations.
“Chaotic bubble?”
“Nemona didn’t mention that.” He finishes the calculations and examines the proposed flight course plan. “We don’t know what it does, so we’ve never flown through it.”
“It’s just a cloud of gas, isn’t it? The ship should cut through no problem.”
He gives me a skeptical look from the corner of his eye. “The desidre toxin is caused by a particle in the air you can’t even see. And it dictates our entire lives on Fellamana.”
“That’s not even similar. Besides, this ship is airtight. The gas won’t affect us.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.” He makes one final correction in the course plan then throws the ignition switch for hyper drive. “Here we go.”
Chapter Sixteen
Koviye
Our ship speeds in the opposite direction of the Hades—I mean, the Liberator. It soars past the Fellamana orbit, toward the upside of our sun, and along the solar wind path out of our solar system.
I’ve never been out this far, where we’re going. I’ve never travelled outside this system. Which I’m sure is laughable for Jenie. She’s travelled light years with the Ten Systems. Just to get their rebellion here would’ve sent them three planetary systems past the outer reaches of the Ten Systems’ empire.
I wonder if she’s left the galaxy. I’ve heard the Ten Systems have the technology capable of that.
When the ship’s autopilot is fully in control, all navigations in place, I sit back in my chair. “I’m sorry about Assura,” I say, feeling it needs to be said, since Nemona didn’t seem to offer Jenie much support in her shock. It had been obvious to me Assura and Gahnin would likely end up mated, given their explosive chemistry at the Sex Games, and given the habits of humans and Ssedez toward mating. But Jenie hadn’t seen that. She’d only seen them together in a military capacity with the Hades’ invasion.
She shrugs beside me. “It doesn’t matter.” She’s doing that thing again where she hides her feelings.
“It does matter. You were close. She was a friend. A colleague.”
“A lover,” she whispers.
I knew this. Assura told me. But this is the first Jenie’s ever spoken of it. “Do you miss her?”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s mated now. It makes no difference.”
“It makes all the difference.” The colors around her, her feelings, are a riot of crimson and yellow. The combo is a loud translation of passion and confusion.
“She’s made her choice. I never had a desire to form a lifelong relationship with her. I am happy she has found what she desired. In any case, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
She’s telling me the truth, though red and yellow continues to swirl around her. “Do you feel like she abandoned you?”
“Yes!” she shouts then clamps her mouth shut, shaking her head as though she can’t say anymore. “And all that we’re working for.”
“You’ll see her again. She’ll just—”
“Not care about the rebellion anymore.”
“The rebellion?” I muse. “Or you?”
“I—” She pinches her lips.
“You know she’d never forget you or the rebellion, right? Neither of those things are true.”
“You know nothing about her.”
“I know enough to know she’s loyal, and she wouldn’t have left if she’d had another choice. What she went through with Dargule was bad, wasn’t it?”
“The worst. She did horrible things…because he would’ve killed her if she hadn’t. And others would’ve died, innocent people. She had so many lives in her hands.”
“Her leaving isn’t about you or the rebellion, or even her mating to Gahnin. It’s about recovery, and you said yourself, she deserves that time.”
She sits back in her chair and takes a heavy breath. “Do you know what it’s like to have someone in your life attach to a mate?”
I have to cut back a laugh. “Mating is not something the Fellamana do.”
She crosses her arms and looks away. “People change once they’re mated. They’re not the same after. Being friends with them is more difficult.”
“We all change. Mated or not. You’ll see her again. Even if she doesn’t return to the rebellion, you can visit her on the Ssedez world.”
“No, I can’t.” She looks at me perplexed, as if this is obvious. “I’m Nemona’s lieutenant general. I go where she goes. Especially with Assura gone. As soon as the Liberator is restructured, we’ll be off.”
My pulse jumps. “Off where?”
“Who knows.” She shrugs. “Through this galaxy and into the next.”
My mouth goes dry, and I have to work to keep from swallowing my words. She can’t leave. Why would she leave? Fellamana is a wonderful planet. She has no reason not to stay with us. “Why would you do that?”
“We’re explorers.”
I don’t understand this “explorer” concept. “You mean, you’re running from the Ten Systems?”
“Yes and no. You know about Dr. Klearuh’s research, right?”
From what I recall, Klearuh was a groundbreaking interplanetary biologist/anthropologist from the Ten Systems. “I’ve heard your crew members mention it.”
“Nemona’s grandmother led a lifelong study into the known intelligent life in the universe. She found evidence to prove a theory that all intelligent life comes from the same source. Which directly disproves the Ten Systems’ credo that humans are the superior species. Our mission is to continue the research and share it with other species we meet.” She tells the story with matter-of-fact efficiency, but her pride in her mission is obvious in her assertive tone.
I think for a moment. “Which could unite the other intelligent species—”
“Yes.”
“—in a cause to eradicate the Ten Systems. Or the military rulers, at least.”
She nods, a hungry expression on her face, as though the thought of
destroying the Ten Systems brings her pleasure. She quells it, but I love this glimpse of her ruthless side. “That’s the long-term aim. It could happen, but the reach of the Ten Systems is so broad, it’ll take a century or more to dismantle them completely.”
“Then why take it upon yourselves? You could so easily stay with the Fellamana.”
She tilts her head and looks at me as if I’ve spoken a foreign language. “We might leave a team of temporary researchers behind to learn all you’re willing to share about the Fellamana. But I will be leaving.”
I can’t imagine her not coming back with me. The thought of her departing Fellamana, of my not seeing her again, has my chest twisting in knots. “I don’t understand why you need to be the ones to do this.”
“Because I lost my entire species to the Ten Systems,” she says vehemently. “They destroyed my home world, and they do it to every new world they discover. I have to do everything I can to stop them.”
“But you’ll probably get killed in the process. Even if we can keep this message from transferring, they’re going to keep chasing you.”
“You think we don’t know that?” she seethes, anger brightening her face. “We’ve been cheating death since we escaped. But risking our lives is better than being a slave to the empire.”
“If you stayed on Fellamana, you could hide, and you wouldn’t be a slave.”
“Your entire species will be as soon as the Ten Systems discovers you. Or they’ll do worse. You’ll be extinct. Wiped out.” She looks out into space. “I’ve seen it happen. It’s only a matter of time. The Ten Systems will find you eventually, if we can’t stop them.”
“The Fellamana, we have our defenses.”
“Being invisible will only get you so far.”
She’s seen our shields, which can camouflage entire communities. “It’s gotten us this far. It will continue to work.” My anger is peaking now. She’s fast turning me on the defensive.
“You’re going to have to fight them eventually.”
“The Fellamana don’t fight.”
She pauses. “Don’t? Or won’t?”
“We don’t have weapons. Violence is our last resort.”
She grips the arms of her chair, trying to tame her frustration. “If you don’t fight, you’re lambs waiting for slaughter.”
“You mistake me.” My voice is tight. “You’ve been bred in the Ten Systems military. You only know their way. Just because the Fellamana defend ourselves differently from the manner in which you’re used to doesn’t mean we can’t fight.”
She barks a laugh. “I never should’ve agreed to bring you with me. You’re a total liability on this mission.” She glances around at the speeder’s controls. “You don’t even have a weapons system on this ship, do you?” She swears under her breath. “Gods, why didn’t I think to ask that? Wait, I know,” her voice goes dry, “because I’ve never heard of something so ridiculous as an unarmed space vessel!”
“I am not a liability. I can fight. Just differently from you. I don’t need weapons. And this ship has no need for offensive measures with its invisibility functions.”
“What if the technology fails?”
I shake my head. “Then you do not understand how it works. The engines will fail before the invisibility fails. They’re powered the same way.”
Confusion twists her brows. “That makes no sense.”
“Of course not.” I mock, “Because it’s not Ten Systems made, therefore, it must be inferior.”
She opens her mouth and gapes at me. “I never said that.”
“That’s exactly what you’re thinking. Perhaps in your explorations, you should study more than other species’ DNA. Perhaps your entire concept of war and culture needs re-evaluating.”
“Maybe you need to consider there are other worlds worth protecting beyond your own.”
“I have to protect my people, so they don’t end up like yours!”
She recoils from me like I slapped her across the face.
Shit. “Jenie,” I hold out my hands in peace offering. “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry. I should not have brought your story of the Ulreya into this.”
“No.” She waves her hand as though to wipe away my apology, but her voice is thin. “You think your way. I’ll think mine. We don’t need to agree on anything to get this job done.”
“We agree on a common enemy.”
She scoffs. “Who you don’t want to fight.”
“Who you want to emulate.”
She squints at me. “That’s absurd.”
“You can’t dismantle something as massive as the Ten Systems without putting something else in its place. What kind of organization would you replace it with?”
“I don’t know!” She throws up her hands. “I’m not a politician. I’m a military woman. Strategy is all I know.”
“Then perhaps you should spend some more time with the Fellamana, get to know our culture of governance.”
Her eyes widen. “I see now.” She almost smiles, except it’s not genuine, it’s bitter. “That’s what this is about. You don’t want me to go. You want to keep me.”
“Of course I want you to stay. Why would I want you to leave? This isn’t a surprise. I enjoy your company, I…” I swallow, not sure what to say next. Not sure how to put into words these strange, awful, yet wonderful things she’s making me feel. Not sure if I should admit to them. Not sure if she’ll be glad or upset about it. Not sure if I should be having these feelings at all.
I’ve never been this confused about someone I’ve made love to. I’ve never been confused about my feelings or sex, ever. I scratch at my chest, wishing I could make the emotions go away. I don’t like this.
I just know it’s not love, not the monogamous kind she wants—from someone. That love isn’t biologically possible for me.
“It’s because you enjoy fucking me, isn’t it?” her voice rasps, like sex.
I jerk my eyes to hers and find her lashes lowered, her gaze a sultry reminder of her dream. She’s doing it on purpose, making me think of how she looked and sounded when she begged me to fuck her in the ass.
I stare off at the stars. “It’s more than that.” Part of me wants to correct her. I don’t just fuck. I make love. She’d know this if she thought about it. That’s what the Exstare does. It’s not a mere biological lust—it’s an energy exchange. There’s care involved for the other person. I care about my lovers. Every one of them.
But I don’t know how she’ll react to that, so instead I say, “Why do you continue to be bothered by the possibility that I want your company for sex? Even if it were true, this is not an insult. How a person shares pleasure is a value unique to their person and—”
“I am more than a sexual being!”
“Yes, you are, and all those things combine to make you an extraordinary lover. I have known this about you from the beginning, when I first saw you, because of who you are. That is something to be proud of, not diminished or used as a reason to see yourself as less valuable.”
Her mouth falls open like she means to speak, but she doesn’t. She tries again, as though confused about what to say, but still says nothing. Her emotions slowly blend to a bright green, surprise, confidence. Finally, she whispers, “You mean that?”
“I don’t lie.”
Her voice comes low and full of intensity. “Do you call everyone an extraordinary lover? Is the translation of that ‘normal’ for you?”
“No.” I match my volume until it’s as low as hers. “You share things with me I’ve never experienced before.” My heart speeds, hastening my breath. I’m not sure how I got to this confession; I’m not sure I’m ready for it, but here we are.
She stares at me with avid fascination. “What things?”
I try to evade answering. “You don’t know?” The thought of putting into words how meaningful being with her has been for me, without knowing if she feels the same, makes me hesitate. It’s so strange for me. I never hesitat
e. I’m always confident that my lovers are satisfied and overjoyed with their experiences with me. But her answer matters to me more for some reason, and I’m afraid to find out it might not be true for her.
She smiles an intimate thought. “Assura used to call me her matchbox. ‘One strike and you light like a flame,’ she would say.”
I smile too, loving this description of her. “This and so much more.” My pulse is so loud in my ears, I fear she can hear it. I see her pulse leaping in her neck, and her mouth is parted, her full lips ready to meet mine.
Fuck, I want to kiss her. I lean forward, intending to reach for her.
The message board beeps again. I swear in Fellamana, and this time, it’s not a message in the human language that pops up. It’s in my tongue. I groan and press the play button. May as well get the scolding over with.
Povape’s stern face broadcasts from the screen. “Koviye, this stunt is over. By order of the council. We’ve been tracking your speeder. You turned back from the Hades, and now you’re headed in the wrong direction. Are you lost?!” he bites out. “Is your navigation malfunctioning? Send a response, and we will send help.”
He leans closer to the screen, his voice thickening in warning. “And if this is not an emergency, get your ass back here now before the council has your head—and mine for not locking you up in a cell as soon as you mentioned the possibility of leaving without permission.” He inhales hard. “I trusted you. How could you betray me? How could you abandon your people who need you?” Panic twists his tone, and I have pangs of regret for the first time.
Maybe leaving them like this was a mistake.
“What if someone grows sick while you’re away and you’re not here to heal them with the Exstare? People’s lives are at stake!”
At this, I roll my eyes. It’s an old superstition from before the Fellamana medical technology developed to its current life-saving abilities. No one’s life is in danger. There is no known illness or injury our medics can’t now cure, but I understand their worry. Fellamana don’t travel far, traditionally. They’ve never been without someone with the Exstare, ever. I’ve frightened them.
