Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (79 page)

"To this day, I
honor that Sata’an general's memory by carrying his sword…"

Sarvenaz smiled and
said something in her own language that he couldn't understand.  She snuggled
in closer, rubbing her hand down the hard, flat washboard of his abdomen and
looked at him with a hungry expression.  She resumed her game of tempting him. 

 "I have to go to
work now,
mo ghrá," Abaddon
said.

Sarvenaz
pulled out the heavy artillary, demanding his surrender
by caressing his manhood to stand at attention.  He
was putty in her hands, and she knew it!  But he was not without his
own
weapons
in this delightful war they waged each morning against the outside world.  He
nibbled down her neck until she shrieked with laughter.  How he loved to hear
her laugh!  In a species prone towards seriousness, human laughter was a drug
he could never get enough of.  It filled his heart with joy as he prepared to
mate with her again … for pleasure … as no Angelic female would ever allow.

He nuzzled her neck
and counted again, just to be sure.  Three grey hairs.  Whatever Lucifer had
cooking up his sleeve worried him, but it paled in contrast to the gift he'd
just been given.  At last, he'd a mate.  She didn't want to leave him … and he
was going to be a father.  In love for the first time in his life, the old
General swore he would never, ever let her go…

No matter what it cost
him.

~ * ~ * ~
* ~ * ~

August - 3,390 BC

Earth:  Crash Site

Ninsianna

Yawning and stretching
in her downy bed, Ninsianna opened her eyes to find her new husband intently
staring at her, a slight smile upticking the corner of his mouth.

“I think my wing fell
asleep.”

“Huh?”  She caressed
the enormous, brownish-black wing that covered them both, blankets a hindrance
to a species that came equipped wearing their very own down comforter.  She ran
her fingers beneath the quills to tickle his warm, avian skin.

“Not that one.”  His
smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile that threatened to melt her heart. 
“The other wing.”

Feeling beneath
herself, she realized at some point during the night she'd rolled onto his
other wing, completely enclosing herself in the soft, downy feathers that
covered the underside of his wings.  The downy under-feathers of all avian
species had evolved to feel the subtle caress of the wind and shelter their loved
ones from the cold.  It felt so safe, to be sheltered in the enormous wings of
a species created to protect the weak.  By the way he twitched as she caressed
him, she could tell the lack of circulation had caused him to be on
pins-and-needles for quite some time.

“Why didn't you say
something,” she asked.

“I didn't wish to wake
you.”  He ran his thumb down her jaw and across her lips, his expression
tender.  “I still fear that one day I shall wake up and discover that all this
time, I have only been dreaming of my one great love."

"We are now
married," Ninsianna smiled.  "Until death do us part.  She-who-is
herself has given us her blessing."  She caressed the frown of worry that
marred his perfect brow.

Running her hand down
his rock solid abdomen, she found his manhood standing at attention, rising up
to meet her touch as she ran her fingers along the shaft.  Naked pleasure
crossed his usually serious face.  Here in bed together, locked away from the
outside world, he dropped the emotional walls he used to keep his feelings
hidden from the world and gave her unguarded access.  He gave a little cry of
discomfort, half laughter, half sigh, as her wiggling caused pins and needles
pain to shoot up his numb wing.

“We shall have to do
something to wake up your wing.”  She stroked his manhood.  “Can you think of
any way to get the blood flowing again?”

“If my blood flows any
faster,” he said with a growl.  “My head will explode.”  He shifted his weight
on top of her, nuzzling down her neck as he pulled the errant wing from
underneath them both.

“It's not your head
I'm interested in,” she teased, stroking him into a quivering mass of
anticipation as she guided him between her legs and tilted up her pelvis to
greet him.

This time there was no
discomfort, only pleasure...

~ * ~ * ~
* ~ * ~

Galactic Standard Date:  152,323.08

Orbit – Haven-1

Colonel Raphael Israfa

Raphael

Raphael greeted the
biomechanical 'needle' using the voice translation device developed to
communicate with the strange life form.  Although life in the Milky Way tended
to clump into one of six basic life forms, occasionally something drifted in
from someplace else that didn't fit life as they knew it.  Needles fit that
category.  The living remnants of some great civilization that had risen and
fallen in a distant galaxy, needles were a curious synergy of biology and
machine. 

They were sentient,
gentle creatures whose level of intelligence was about that of a 5-year-old
humanoid.  Obedient and eager to please, they had to be cared for like
children.  Raphael would like to believe they cared for the trusting
biomechanoids simply because it was the right thing to do, but years of
watching Parliament fracture into squabbling political and business interests
had left him skeptical.  The reason needles were cared for was because they
were trans-dimensional creatures that could leap instantly from one end of the
galaxy to the other.  The next-fastest method of transportation, FTL (faster
than light) drives, took weeks, even months to make that same journey.

“Hey, buddy!  It's
time to go play with your friend on Jophiel’s ship.  Would you like that?”  The
little ship excitedly bumped Raphael's hand with its nose.  If it was a nose. 
No one really knew for sure. 

“Here's your oxygen
mask, Sir.”  Ensign Zzz'ler handed him the life support gear he would need to
make the jump.  Needles only provided transportation and warmth, not life
support, so oxygen was a necessity.

“Time to strip.” 

Raphael couldn't help
but flash Zzz'ler his dimple as he removed the outer layers of his uniform and
shoes before lowering himself into the slender marsupium
^[7]
.  He was every bit as excited
to be making this journey as his needle was.

Zzz'ler helped him jam
his wings into the carrying compartment, crushing a few golden feathers in the
process.  The confines of the needle were so tight that he didn’t even have
room for a full accompaniment of clothing!  Had he been more muscular, like
General Abaddon, or taller, like Mikhail, he probably wouldn't fit at all! 

He patted the inside
of the marsupium, signaling the needle to shut the cargo doors, and suppressed
the urge to fight his way out as the ship molded itself around his body.  There
was a good reason the slender biomechanoids were called ‘needles.’  They were a
claustrophobic ride.  Luckily, the creatures could jump as soon as they exited
the cargo bay, landing close enough to the receiving ship that time spent in
the coffin-like passenger compartment was mercifully brief. 

“Let’s go,” he said
into the voice communicator built into the oxygen mask as he patted the tender
insides of the needle, giving the non-auditory signal it had been trained to
recognize. 

The long, slender
creature moved around him as it was guided out one of the torpedo ports. 
Needles were like carrier pigeons.  They preferred to jump back and forth
between familiar locations.  Something truly terrifying must have happened to
cause an entire herd of them to suddenly jump galaxies twenty-five years ago. 
He felt the discombobulating juxtaposition of the needle slipping into the
subspace between dimensions and out the other side near Jophiel’s ship.

“Ohthankthegodsthatsover,”
he gasped for breath the moment the needle released him.  Climbing out onto the
flight deck inside Jophiel’s command carrier, he ruffled his crushed feathers. 

“Here’s a change of
clothes, Sir,” the flight crewman who had been assigned to assist him and care
for his needle said.  

“Thank you, Lieutenant
… Hadraniel, correct?” 

He pulled on a uniform
jacket and shoes before turning back to his trusty little needle.  He spoke
into the voice translator so it would understand him. 

“Thank you, my
friend.”  He tickled one side of its javelin-like nose.  If it was a nose. 
Nobody knew for sure. 

The playful ship
wriggled and rolled over so he could scratch its tender underbelly.  Few people
rode a needle by choice, but he and this little ship had been logging in quite
a few hours lately.  Thanks to the needle, he'd been able to pull off a feat of
spatial engineering no mortal could have otherwise accomplished.  Be at
opposite ends of the galaxy in the same day.  Uncomfortable or not, his needle
enabled him to balance his mission to find this mysterious solution Shay'tan
had found with his yearning to be with his family.

“Lieutenant Hadraniel
will release you in a few minutes so you can go play with your friend,” Raphael
told it.  “Okay?”

The ATO would release
it to fly close to this systems sun and feed upon the cosmic radiation it used
as food.  It would come back in eight hours or so when it finished eating and
playing so he could make the jump back out to Zulu Sector.  Only thirty-five
needles existed in the entire galaxy, all stationed on different command
carriers in case of emergency, but the creatures were naturally herd animals. 
This needle would play with Jophiel’s needle as they fed together and played.

Raphael turned his
attention back to the Lieutenant assigned to care for his living ship.  “Where
can I find General Jophiel and my son this fine afternoon?” 

“She is in her
quarters anxiously awaiting you to relieve her of duty, Sir,” Hadraniel said
with a flat expression.  The hint of mirth in his voice betrayed his amusement
at how much extra work the sudden insertion of a five-month-old ‘airman’ into
their midst was causing their commanding officer. 

He noticed the envious
looks some of the crew gave him.  Their relationship was causing morale
problems amongst the fleet.  Already, female hybrids were balking at giving up
their offspring while males were demanding the right to choose one mate.  As
Jophiel went, so went the entire Alliance fleet. 

Although their
relationship had become much closer since Uriel’s brush with death, Jophiel
worried about the message adopting a double-standard would set for the fleet
and
tried
to keep things professional between them.  She'd not yet given
an answer to his request to make their relationship a permanent one. 

Actually, she had... 
She'd told him ‘no.’   But Raphael wouldn't take ‘no’ for an answer.  The
dogged Angelic was every bit as determined to undermine
her
resistance
as he'd always been to get Mikhail to smile.