CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3) (45 page)

Chelan’s breathing finally began to return to normal. “When I come, how do you know what it does to me?”

Dar chuckled. “I know everything about you, my Lady.”

Chelan shook her head slowly in amazement. Then she stared at him. “Did you do that to the women of the Empire too?”

Dar’s tongue teased her lips. “Do what?”

Chelan twisted from him slightly. “Make them come.”

Dar smiled mischievously. “What do you think?”

Chelan hesitated. She went to raise her hands to his shoulders, but she felt him ease his weight farther onto her, thwarting any attempt she made to move. “It is just that… Well, you said what it does… the orgasm, I mean. If you had to ensure a pregnancy for the Guild…”

Dar finally shook his head at her. “Oh, pretty lady. Inseminating throngs of women is not sensual. Believe it or not, though it is not unpleasant, it is work. But the act I just shared with you is one of the most intimate imaginable. I would taste only of the one I love and cherish, and that is you.”

Chelan finally took a breath. “But—”

Dar kissed her hard, swallowing her question. Then he smiled at her. “When I was relieved of duty so that I could attend to the Guild, time was often of the essence. I provided the sperm; the woman provided their own orgasms.”

Chelan finally smiled. Then she looked down. Dar lifted off her slightly as her hand slid down to her soft abdomen. She looked back at him dreamily. “Now what?”

His voice was low and sensual. “We wait. We lay very still, and then we make love over and over again, until the morning light.”

Chelan closed her eyes. “I think I should like that, my Lord.”

Dar’s eyes sparkled. He hardened and Chelan felt him enter her again. This time he lingered, stroking her gently before allowing his swelling. But Chelan no longer cared about any foreplay. She loved the fact he was locked inside her, and she wanted the feeling to last forever. And indeed it seemed as though it would, for he took her again and again, consummating their love ultimately and completely.

*****

The morning light came early and Chelan roused herself from her slumber. She slid out from Dar’s embrace and then looked over at his still body, exhaustion having finally taken him. She wondered briefly if she should perhaps not rise but decided it was okay. He had not forbidden it.

She sat up slowly, so as to not disturb him. Then she peered down at herself, feeling a warm flood between her legs. She removed the blanket, and her eyes grew wide as she beheld the shimmering clear liquid that coated her thighs like flecks of silver. She reached down and touched it tenderly with her fingers. Then she glanced over at Dar. His life seed, just as beautiful as he was.

She glanced down again and ran her fingers through her folds, coating her fingertips with his essence. Slowly, she raised her hand to her mouth and tasted him. She closed her eyes and a soft moan escaped her lips. He tasted like heaven, and she wanted more. She looked back at him, her blonde god of perfection. Someday, she would have more—that she knew for sure, and her mouth watered.

Finally, she stood. Leaving him silently, she tiptoed through the brush up to the crystal-clear pool. Once there, she sat upon a large rock in the warm morning sun. She took a deep breath and rubbed her cool hands over her abdomen, and then smiled. She was pregnant. She had no doubt. Dar would have seen to it, not stopping his acts of love until he was sure.

She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun. Now would come three tranquil months on her little blue planet, three mystical months alone with her Warlord, three divine months with her new mate.

She hugged her knees and laid her head upon them. For now, she was at peace, a peace like no other she had experienced since entering the Empire. Right now, it was her time, and Dar’s. She was safe in his presence, and safe on her little blue planet. And as far as she was concerned, for now and forever, she was in paradise.

Alarms sounded and warning beacons flashed relentlessly as damage reports continued to pour in. Fremma stood in the center of the Bridge, all eyes upon him. He watched the main screen in front of him, the scope of the destruction and carnage contrasting starkly with the calm on the Bridge. Finally he looked at his officers. “This is our final chance. I want every last fighter jettisoned.”

Tarn nodded. “If we come around on their port side, that will draw fire for a time.”

Fremma’s eyes narrowed. “That is my intent. While they are distracted, I want all available transports loaded, down to the last man, and evacuated.”

Tarn’s mouth opened, but it took a moment for the ramifications of his Commander’s order to sink in. “Sire! It is quite likely that each and every one of them will be destroyed.”

Fremma nodded. “And the alternative is?”

Suddenly, every crew member looked to Fremma’s First Officer. “I… There…”

“There is no alternative,” Fremma informed them. “We are dead in the water. Those who can still fight are doing so. The pulses from that battleship are penetrating deeper and deeper every second. It will be only a matter of time before any thought of escape evaporates. To stay on board is suicide. To leave offers a chance at survival, no matter how slim.”

Kerrick cleared his throat. “May I suggest, Sire, that you use your own fighter and heed your own advice. Once those pulses penetrate deep enough, the core of this vessel will cease to exist.”

Fremma nodded at the screen. “Your synopsis of the situation is accurate. That is why I want every person on these decks and everyone on this Bridge out of here now.”

Unprecedented shock lit up all the faces of the crew. Yanis stepped forward. “My Lord! There is no chance in this galaxy that we are going to leave you—”

“That is an order!” barked Fremma. “Everyone who can man a fighter leaves now. The rest of you will leave via transports. With any luck, with a small number of fighters accompanying the transports, hopefully some of you will make it to safety.”

“But Sire, that leaves RIBUS 7 completely at their mercy,” Yanis gasped.

“Where do you think she lies now?” Fremma yelled.

Yanis blanched.

Fremma looked about himself, staring into the wild eyes of his crew. “Once you clear RIBUS 7, scatter to the stars.”

Everyone remained motionless. “Get out!” he boomed.

“But Sire,” began Kerrick. “The one engine room is still functional. If we can just—”

Fremma grabbed the officer by the front of his shroud and yanked him forward. “I want everyone off this ship.” His voice was a low growl. “What do you think will happen if our core is breached? Everyone who leaves has a chance to escape the inevitable.” Then he released Kerrick and gave him a harsh shove backward.

Fremma whirled about, his eyes glowing with rage. “Communications! Give the order ship-wide.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Fremma looked at all the stunned men and women before him as he stilled his thudding heart. “Now, everyone… out! And that’s the last time I issue that order.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before the crew began taking their leave. But most of the officers held their ground. Fremma glared at Tarn and the rest of the waiting contingent. “I could shoot you all for insubordination.”

Tarn drew a deep breath. “You could. The final outcome would be the same.”

Fremma clenched his jaw. “Then, if you insist on dying with the ship, at least go to the transport hangars and assist with the evacuation.”

Tarn and Kerrick glanced at one another. Then Tarn nodded. “As you wish, my Lord.” And the officers filed out of the Bridge.

Fremma watched as the doors closed. Then he walked over to the main control panel and turned off all the alarms. The silence was deafening. He took a moment to take in everything about the Bridge of RIBUS 7. It was surreal. It was as if the ship was just waiting patiently for her crew.

Fremma turned away and headed for the doors. As he entered the corridor, the sound of chaos pierced his ears. The bombardment was relentless. He traversed the empty hall to the personal Command Center and stepped inside. He stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, his mind sifting through all that had occurred. But he had made no mistakes. Armageddon had simply been assured from the beginning.

He descended to the main console and activated numerous screens, all showing the evacuation as it progressed. Then there was flash from one of the indicator lights, and Fremma allowed the main doors to open. Yanis stepped in.

Yanis approached his Commander slowly. “The evac is almost complete.”

Fremma nodded once.

Yanis looked up at the screens. “The blackout is still in place, I assume?”

“Yes. I spoke with Korba just before it was implemented. He knows the situation. As we speak, RIBUS 8 and 10 are hurtling toward us.”

Yanis nodded, his voice quiet. “They are not going to make it in time, are they?”

Fremma’s lips thinned. “Not even close.”

Yanis turned to face his Commander. He picked his words carefully. “RIBUS 7 is almost empty, my Lord.” He paused. “I am not sure what you are thinking, but it serves no one’s purpose for you to go down with the ship should the enemy decide to completely obliterate her.”

Fremma eased down in the main command chair and folded his hands in his lap. “It serves
my
purpose.”

Yanis blinked, Fremma’s words confounding him. Without asking permission, he moved to another chair and sat down close to his Commander. “I do not understand, my Lord.”

Fremma settled himself. “We have lost this battle.”

Yanis looked about himself frantically. “Yes, but there are many more to fight. This is but one failure. And strategically, we did nothing wrong. This was inevitable.”

Fremma actually smiled. “You are right, my good man. But there is another failure from which there is no recovery.”

Yanis felt his heart stop. “My Lord?”

“I have failed in my duty to the Lord God’s Empress. I have left her to flounder indefinitely on her own world. The final decision to take her to Calley was mine, and mine alone.”

“But surely you take solace in the fact that she is safe there?”

“I have essentially abandoned her there.”

“No, my Lord. You prepared her for this eventuality as a precaution. But none of us could have foreseen this.”

“I have made her a casualty of war once again.
That
is a failure I cannot face.”

Yanis pressed back into his chair and looked at the floor between them. He rubbed his ebony-clad fingers over his chin as he focused on all that had been said. Then he looked up into Fremma’s peaceful eyes. “You know that after all this is over, his Majesty will retrieve her no matter what. She is not lost.”

“I was to retrieve her at all cost. I have failed them both on that front. If all was lost here, RIBUS 10 was to collect her. But now Korba too will be detained by that beast of a ship out there, and who knows for how long.”

Yanis tried another tack. “Regardless, you can not do this to her. She would not want this. You have done everything possible for the crew. Now she would want you to do everything possible to save yourself.”

Fremma looked up at the screens, flight deck after flight deck now clear of all personnel. In others, row upon row of backup fighters sat idle in silent testimony to the fact that there were no more warriors to pilot them. Then he looked back at Yanis. “I want you in a plane and out of here.”

Yanis tipped forward defiantly and stared at Fremma hard. “You leave, I leave. You stay, I stay.”

Fremma glared at the man for a long time, and then his lip quirked. “Stubborn son of a bitch you are.”

Yanis sat back again and folded his hands in his lap like Fremma’s. “Yes, my Lord. Just as stubborn as you.”

Fremma smiled. “If, perchance, we survive this, I am going to punish you.”

“Yes, my Lord. I am looking forward to that day.” Then Yanis reached to the main console and began manipulating some code. “And if, perchance, you have any doubts as to why you should do your utmost to survive, allow me to demonstrate and refresh your memory.” All the screens shut down except a small one close to Fremma. There Yanis drew up a picture of Chelan at the Palace, dressed in her white gown, the alabaster beauty glowing with a radiance that lit the Command Center.

Yanis relaxed back in his chair and stared at the Warlord, watching as the man’s eyes misted. Yanis looked down for a moment while he too collected himself. Then he hit a few more controls. He cleared his throat. “If you are crazy enough to stay here, I want it on record in the final ship’s log that you did not die alone. She would want to know that.”

Fremma continued to stare at the picture. “You are a cunning bastard, you know that?”

Yanis crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Yes, Sire. And proud of it. Now, what is our plan?”

RIBUS 7

TALON