CHAPTER 2
Boran Zerbilla ran a hand over his thick head of hair that was greying at the temples. Need a haircut, he thought. The hand stroked the month's growth of beard on his squared chin. And a shave. The hand ventured to his upper lip. Maybe it's time to lose the moustache as well.
Boran was seated behind a massive desk that allowed him a panoramic view of his estate through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels that framed three sides of the room. The spectacular views, however, did not interest him today. His eyes focussed on the doorway directly in front of him as if expecting someone to come through it.
"…reporting it."
"What? Sorry, I missed that." He focussed on the burly man with unnatural red hair sitting to his right.
Tremothen gave Boran a curious look. "Are you okay? You seem distracted." Tremothen turned his head to look at his wife, Marleen, and jerked his head in Boran's direction.
The pair made an unlikely couple. Tremothen easily made two of his waif-like wife. He was big, with a round face; she was thin, with a pinched face. He tended to smile a lot and openly. By contrast, Marleen smiled less often and shyly. Yet, they were alike in so many other ways. They wore similar clothing, favouring light-coloured trousers and casual shirts when working from the estate. They shared a love of music: Tremothen was a singer and Marleen an accomplished musician. If they hadn't hooked up with Boran, who knew where they would have ended up. Above all else, they were loyal. They were family.
"We're worried too," said the petite woman with wavy grey-brown hair, taking her husband's less than subtle hint. "About Tehvay, I mean."
Boran offered a weary smile. "She's safe," he reassured them.
"You've heard from her, then?" asked Marleen.
"No. It's too dangerous for her to contact me. She's safe though." He glanced away. "At least I hope she is," he mumbled.
"Pardon?" Marleen asked.
"Nothing." Boran gave his attention back to Tremothen. "What were you saying?"
"There's an increased military presence around some core planets: Kalenth, Alopan, Franlence, Arcsanth. Several freighter pilots have been reporting it." He glanced down at the sheet of electronic paper in front of him. "I suggest we don't do any red runs there for the time being. However, we've got the Harbenfild contract, which is pink. It pays very well." He looked back at Boran. "Do you want to risk it?"
Red was the code word they used for any full-on smuggling activities. Pink was for genuine merchandise with an 'added bonus'. White was used for any strictly legitimate business.
"I don't want us doing any runs there, red, pink or white. Let's stick to the borders."
Tremothen's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Okay, but it's good pay, and you need it after the expense of finding Tehvay. Hila could do it."
The mention of the two women who had meant the world to him jabbed at Boran's emotions. Not usually given to sentimentality, he nevertheless felt a fatherly affection for both Tehvay and Hila, and in Hila's case, she just up and disappeared with no word. Not only a friend, Hila was a good earner, and her absence was keenly felt. "I've not heard from her since she left here. I'm worried about her," said Boran.
"Well I'm not. She's crazy."
The new voice caused all three of them to look towards the door. Tana, Boran's daughter, was standing in the door's threshold.
"Never liked her. And then, she stabs Karthen right here. Good riddance, I say." The attractive young woman sauntered over and stood at the left side of the table. "Good riddance to her and her little whore. And good riddance to Tehvay."
"Tana!" Marleen, who had been like an aunt to Boran's daughter, scolded her. "How—"
"Marleen, leave it," Boran interrupted. "Please."
The small woman scowled, but stopped her rebuke.
Boran ignored his daughter's comments and continued the meeting with his most trusted lieutenants, Marleen and Tremothen. "As I said, no runs to the core. Try and find something in the borders for us. Marleen, contact Pan Willam. See if she's got freight to move in the Theelin sector. Or even into the Graelands. Tremothen, contact your cousin on Alopan. See what he can find out about that increased military presence, and any news about the Taliss family."
"The Taliss family?" Tremothen's deep baritone voice resounded. "I thought we were done with them."
"Karthen said the Taliss girl, Jenissa, would keep quiet; I want to know if she has," Boran explained.
"Okay, but…" Tremothen paused.
Boran didn't need further explanation. "I know; your cousin will need paying."
Having been given their assignments, Marleen and Tremothen left the room, leaving Boran and his daughter alone. Boran stared down, mesmerised by the high-gloss finish of the exotic red onyx table, hoping his daughter would take the hint and leave as well. However, he could feel Tana's hard, blue eyes boring into him. Finally conceding that she wasn't going to leave, he met her gaze.
Tana stood over him with her arms folded; her lips thin, her eyebrows were drawn together.
Boran wanted to love his daughter, but she made it difficult at times. She was a constant reminder of his failings as a father, though he blamed himself as much as he blamed her for that. Tana's mother, Torrina, had left Boran soon after Tana was born, so he missed her formative years. When Torrina returned seven years later, it was only to dump the child off with him and leave. It was Torrina's way of punishing him, and he deserved it. He had thrown himself into building his import-export empire, neglecting his daughter and finding surrogate daughters in Hila and Tehvay.
Seventeen years later, his daughter was still a stranger, a stranger that looked a lot like the woman he had fallen out of love with. Tana had the same exotic bronzed skin tone and angular chin of her mother, and the same sharp tongue and penchant for spending his money. The only thing she inherited from him was his sense of style. Boran liked loose fitting, brightly coloured shirts. Tana's clothes were equally brightly coloured, but more figure hugging. He wondered if he should be concerned about the tightness of her dress. Some of his hired hands would see that clothing as an invitation.
Boran was about to say something fatherly, but Tana interjected.
"Have you changed your will yet?"
Her rather direct question caught him off guard. "Uh… no."
Tana sat down in the chair that Tremothen had occupied. "When are you going to do it?"
"I'm not planning on dying just yet."
"You stole a slave from an Elit. You helped that slave and an Elit get out of the Hegemony with false identities. Your days are numbered."
"Thanks for the support," he replied sarcastically.
That was one thing Boran could count on from his daughter: she never pulled her punches. "I'm just being realistic. Tehvay is out of the picture, so take her out of your will. And as for Hila and her little joy ride—"
"Kamina! She has a name."
"Whatever. They're both gone. You said you've not heard from Hila, and after she betrayed you, you'd be better off if you never see her again."
"She didn't betray me."
"She stabbed Karthen in your home and then took off without a word."
"And I want to know what the reason was." Boran looked away.
"Regardless, they're all in your will. They don't need to be there anymore."
"Is money all you care about?"
"I care about my money. It's not Tehvay's. It's not Hila's, or Hila's slut's."
"Do you hate them all that much?" he rounded on his daughter.
"Why do you love them so much?" Tana looked offended and defiant.
Boran regarded his daughter. Because they're nothing like you, he thought. He knew better than to step into that minefield by offering her an explanation, so he said nothing.
Tana got up, went to a side table, and helped herself to some fruit. "I thought Tehvay was okay," she continued. "I just…" Tana paused and looked towards Boran. "We had nothing in common, besides you." She turned her attention to the fruit in her hand. "But she's not here. She'll never be here again. I just want what's mine. What did she do to deserve any of it anyway? I know she wasn't sleeping with you."
Boran had turned his head to look at Tana while she spoke. Her last words caused him to swivel his chair around, allowing the rest of his body to join it. "How can you say that? You know what Tehvay went through. She was an object of abuse her whole life."
"Her and millions of others. I didn't see you go out of your way to help any other slaves. You used her to feel good about yourself."
The verbal blow hit Boran hard. She's right. I didn't care about other slaves. I only cared about one slave.
"Sorry," said Tana softly. "What you did for Tehvay was… good – and I don't mean you should have brought down all slavery singlehanded – but I'm your daughter. I was here all that time. I've been working for you since I was fifteen. And yes, you've paid me and paid me well, I'm not going to say otherwise. But this is a family business, and like it or not, I'm your family. I was here before you brought her here the first time. I was here when you went searching for her. I was here when you came back with her. And I'm still here."
Yes, for all her faults, Tana has stuck around, he thought. Tehvay and Hila are gone, but Tana is still here – despite me being a lousy father to her. Maybe it's time to change all that.
"You're right," said Boran simply. "I know I'm not a good person. I used your mother. I neglected you. And yes, I did use Tehvay to feel good about myself. But I also did it because it was the right thing to do."
Tana looked at him, not with the look of an adoring daughter for her father, but with the look of someone wanting to belong somewhere. Boran had kept her at arms' length for as long as he could remember, longer than she deserved.
"I'll change my will."
~~~~
Gral'hilanth ap Falentha stood at the command console on the bridge of the heavy cruiser, Relentless. She wore a dark-grey uniform with a gold thread around the collar. Pinned to the collar was a gold insignia, a reverse 'C' with a single overbar, representing her rank as Aloyd, Third-Class. Her face was partially obscured by shadows on the dimly lit bridge, making her appear much older than her age of nearly thirty-three. Adding to her careworn visage were four scars marking her forehead and cheek above and below her right eye. The scars could have easily been removed, but Gral'hilanth wanted to keep them as a reminder, and punishment, for her former life.
Until recently, she had been an outcast from The Kalenth Hegemony's ruling Elit, going under the pseudonym of 'Hila Llyte'. She had been making a living on the fringes of the Hegemony as a freighter pilot – her self-imposed penance for a childhood mistake. A mistake she had recently been given the chance to rectify. The Council Member for Military Operations, Ambra ap Lentol, had given her the rank of Aloyd, Third-Class, but without the knowledge of The Council of Administration.
Ambra's full plan was unknown to Gral'hilanth, though she knew it involved wresting power from the Council and pruning the ruling Elit of those who Ambra deemed weak and ineffective. However, Gral'hilanth was not concerned with Ambra's plan. She was only concerned with retribution against Kikola ap Karthen. If playing lap dog to Ambra moved her closer to that goal, so be it.
The aloyd called up the ship's current position on her console. The readout indicated the Relentless was about eight light years from the border planet of Shibato. The planet was home to an old friend of hers, though she didn't think he would welcome her with open arms, now that she had reclaimed her true identity. Still, they had unfinished business.
She wandered over to the navigation console and placed a hand on the shoulder of the ensign on duty. "Navigation, plot new a course: heading four-nine-alpha-two-one."
As Gral'hilanth was ordering the course change, she was aware of being observed by the tactical commander of the Relentless, Captain Garin Eadmon, from the command station in the centre of the bridge.
The ensign hesitated and glanced at Captain Eadmon.
"Did you hear me, ensign?" asked Aloyd Falentha.
"Yes, Aloyd!" came the quick response, followed a few moments later by, "Course plotted."
Gral'hilanth moved to the helm and again placed her hand on the shoulder of the officer at the station. "Helm, set new course."
"Yes, Aloyd. Course set."
The aloyd looked up at the main view screen and watched the readouts change.
When the ship was underway on the new course, Captain Eadmon approached the aloyd and made a discreet enquiry. "Aloyd, may I have a word – in your ready room?"
Gral'hilanth knew the sudden course change would require an explanation. Their orders were clear: patrol the border along The Kalenth Hegemony and The Chanier Kingdom and await further orders. "Very well."
The aloyd led Captain Eadmon to the senior officer's ready room just off the bridge. This wasn't going to be a long meeting, so neither made a move to sit.
"Is there a particular reason why you have deviated from the designated course?" asked Eadmon.
Gral'hilanth regarded the fifty-year-old captain. Eadmon was strikingly beautiful – distractingly so. In contrast to Gral'hilanth, Eadmon had a flawless complexion, black hair that swooped across her forehead and fell freely to her shoulders, and a shapely figure accentuated by her form-fitting uniform. Gral'hilanth realised she was staring and lowered her eyes. "Yes," she replied.
"May I know the reason?"
"I am not at liberty to say."
"I see. Should I note it in the ship's log?"
"No. It's just a short diversion. We will be back on the planned course soon enough."
"Yes, Aloyd."
The comm buzzed. Gral'hilanth dismissed Eadmon with a wave and waited for the door to close before pressing the button to activate it. The holographic image of a woman with long blonde hair parted just right of centre was projected above the surface of the table.
"Councillor Lentol. I, uh, wasn't anticipating communication from you."
The image of Ambra ap Lentol flickered a bit. Gral'hilanth adjusted the signal frequency on her computer console until the councillor's image was sharp and life-like.
"How are you settling in?" asked the councillor.
"Fine," replied Gral'hilanth.
"Good. I am contacting you because a question was raised in the Council meeting earlier. The Kendai representative wanted to know why the Relentless had been assigned a top-secret mission without a Council briefing. I told them it was merely an exercise."
Gral'hilanth felt a little uneasy. "Did they accept that explanation?"
"Of course," said Ambra. "I am authorised to conduct military exercises without Council approval."
"Then why was it brought up?" Gral'hilanth asked. "What made them suspicious?"
"All aloyds are accounted for and it is unusual for a heavy cruiser not to be under the command of an aloyd," the councillor replied.
"What did you tell them?"
"I told them that since the Relentless has just undergone an upgrade, it was an exercise to test the new systems." The councillor's image disappeared momentarily as she moved out of range of the imaging cameras. "I am sending you a report. I want you to have Captain Eadmon authorise it and send it to the command base on Timar."
Lies upon lies upon lies, thought Gral'hilanth. I wonder who will be crushed when it all comes tumbling down.
A beep signalled that Gral'hilanth had received the report.
"What does the report contain?" the aloyd asked as she opened the report on a side monitor.
"It's a report giving the results of the new systems' preliminary shakedown."
Gral'hilanth glanced over the report. "Eadmon will question this report. She will—"
"She will do as you order her," the councillor said, cutting in. "Just as you will do as I order."
Gral'hilanth bottled up her response and nodded. "Is that all?"
"Yes. I will contact you again at the same time tomorrow. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Councillor." The aloyd went through with the niceties of protocol before shutting the comm off. She was feeling edgy and frustrated. Gral'hilanth wanted to exact her revenge against the woman who she felt had destroyed her life. If it hadn't been for Kikola ap Karthen, Gral'hilanth would have graduated from The Elit Military Academy as an aloyd, which was her birth right. Instead, she was an aloyd in name only, being forced to patrol the backwaters of the Hegemony's least populated sector and bide her time while Ambra's scheme unfolded.
She pressed the comm button for the bridge. "Captain Eadmon, report to my ready room."
The captain promptly returned to the aloyd's ready room. "Do you have another course correction, Aloyd?"
"No. It is something else." Gral'hilanth directed the captain to take a seat opposite her.
Eadmon did as instructed, sitting on the edge of the chair as though at attention.
Gral'hilanth inserted a data chip into the computer console and transferred the report to it. She removed it and handed it to Captain Eadmon. "I want you to authorise this report and send it to headquarters on Timar."
"What report is it?"
"It is a just a status report on the upgraded systems and how they are performing."
Eadmon frowned. "The systems were tested in flight after installation, before you took command. We've not run any specific tests or scenarios to put them through an equivalent assessment since."
"Has there been any issues with them in normal day to day use?"
"No," Eadmon admitted.
Gral'hilanth sensed that Eadmon was far from satisfied. The captain looked like she was working hard to keep her frustration hidden.
"Then sign the report and send it. Need I remind you that you send only the report?"
"As commanding officer, the report should come from you—" The frustration was becoming more evident.
"As commanding officer, I am ordering you to do it."
Gral'hilanth waited for a further comment from the captain, but Eadmon's look softened, as if she was finally resigned to the situation.
"Very well, Aloyd. I'll sign the report and send it." Eadmon started to rise from the chair, but then changed her mind. "May I speak freely, Aloyd?" Eadmon ventured. "Don't worry, I am not going to press you for details about this report."
"Go ahead, Captain."
"I was wondering where you served before this posting."
Gral'hilanth felt an anxious rush of panic. She wasn't prepared with a convincing backstory to explain where she had been prior to this assignment, and Ambra had admonished her not to discuss it with anyone. "Why is that relevant to you?"
"I, uh couldn't help but notice that you are not as familiar with on-ship protocols, like the course change you ordered. Standard operating procedure is for you, as aloyd, to direct your orders to me, and I as tactical commander direct the crew."
"I am aware of SOP, Captain," said Gral'hilanth.
"I just assumed you were stationed on a military outpost."
"I like to do things my way," Gral'hilanth replied sharply. "Being unpredictable keeps those beneath me on their toes."
The captain blanched. "I meant no disrespect, Aloyd."
Gral'hilanth was not about to admit to this career officer that the sum total of her experience as an aloyd was one year at The Elit Military Academy before being expelled. She deflected the conversation. "Prior to this, you were in command of the strike ship Crusade under Aloyd Kikola ap Karthen. Is that right, Captain?"
"Yes, sir."
"What did you think of her?"
Gral'hilanth sensed a hesitation from Eadmon when the captain shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
"You may speak freely."
"Before or after murdering Supreme-Aloyd Taliss?" Eadmon asked.
It was impossible to keep the death of Supreme-Aloyd Taliss a complete secret. Only the Elit and senior military officers knew that Aloyd Karthen had killed him, and only the Elit knew the true reason why.
"Before," said Gral'hilanth.
"Aloyd Karthen was a very efficient and competent aloyd considering her inexperience. Though some of her decisions were… unexpected. However, she did not connect with her subordinates very well."
"Do you think I connect with them better?"
"Yes, sir. You may keep details back, which Aloyd Karthen did, but I've seen you on the bridge and in the ship's bar. You don't treat the crew with the disdain that she did. Or any other Elit I've met." Eadmon realised that was probably not the right thing to say. "Apologies, no offence meant, Aloyd."
Gral'hilanth smiled. "None taken. I have spent—" She stopped herself before she said too much. "Let us just say, my training has been different." She leaned forward and rested her arms on the desk. "You were telling me about Aloyd Karthen," she prompted.
"Yes." Eadmon continued, "She seemed isolated from everyone, even the senior officers. She appeared to have more concern for the welfare of slaves than anyone else."
"One slave in particular," muttered Gral'hilanth.
"Pardon, Aloyd?"
"Nothing. What is your opinion of Karthen after she murdered Taliss?"
"I am not sure. I didn't think she had it in her. If I may be candid, Supreme-Aloyd Taliss had my full respect as a senior officer, but he was not a very pleasant person. I will not miss him as a man."
"What gave you that opinion of him?"
"He had a taste for young female slaves."
Gral'hilanth nodded. She had heard of a lot of depravity in her travels, had seen her fair share too, and, on occasion, indulged in some.
Captain Eadmon continued. "So, where did you say you served before this assignment?"
Gral'hilanth thought long and hard before replying. Under other circumstances, she would probably have enjoyed the captain's company, but as her commanding officer, Gral'hilanth found her constant questions mildly irritating. "I studied at The Elit Military Academy. That is all you need to know. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir," Eadmon stood up, brought her left arm up to the left side of her chest in a salute and left.
~~~~
Prior to taking command of the heavy cruiser Relentless, Captain Garin Eadmon was in command of the strike ship Crusade, whose primary function was troop support for the fleet's state of the art heavy cruiser, Sword, commanded by Commodore Heln. The ambitious Captain Eadmon was pleased to be promoted to command of the Relentless. It may have been an older model, but at least the systems had been recently upgraded. However, after finally getting her hands on a proper ship, Captain Eadmon was not all that pleased about being sent on patrol to the Theelin sector with a seemingly inexperienced senior officer, Aloyd Gral'hilanth ap Falentha, of whom Eadmon knew very little.
The Theelin sector was at the edge of the Hegemony, bordered by the Graelands and The Chanier Kingdom. The Chanier was considered a backwards society, no threat to the Hegemony and barely worth conquering. In fact, the Hegemony treated the Kingdom as little more than an autonomous region within it.
Not only were the orders to patrol a pointless area of space, but that they were to maintain a strict communication silence. Other than the daily-automated course transmission to Command, only the aloyd had permission to make or receive any transmission off the ship.
Until now.
Garin sat down at her desk, inserted the data chip into the computer console, and pulled up the report it contained. It was as she had been told, a status report on the ship's systems. Why do I need to authorise it? she wondered. It was data that was normally transmitted in the daily-automated report.
Garin turned her mind to the aloyd, newly assigned to the Relentless. The captain had never heard of Aloyd Falentha before. The aloyd was still only Third-Class, so had probably been flying desks up until now, Garin surmised. She had tried to uncover the aloyd's previous assignments, but had been fobbed off with an answer that contained few details.
There had to be something more to this, she thought. An Aloyd, Third-Class being put in charge of a heavy cruiser was unusual. Garin could only recall that happening in times of war before.
She shook her head, sighed, added her official signature, and sent the report. Garin then called for her first officer to come to her ready room.
Commander Enice Peamertin was a tall, broad-shouldered woman. Her square face was lined with age and experience. They had known each other at military school and had served together under Commodore Heln, before Garin was promoted to captain. When she was given command of the Relentless, Garin specifically requested that Commander Peamertin be assigned as her first officer.
"Have our orders changed?" Commander Peamertin queried as the door swished shut behind her.
"No," replied the captain.
"Oh." The commander knew better than to press the issue further.
Garin directed the commander to take a seat and then asked her first officer if she had ever heard of Aloyd Falentha before the Elit officer had come on board.
"No, Captain," replied the commander. "Why?"
"Just wondering. I like to know who I am reporting to."
"I know a Lunguseth Oalanic ap Falentha," Peamertin recalled. "Fine officer. I served with him before my assignment under Commodore Heln." Lunguseth was a rare rank, reserved for those officers that married into the Elit.
"Ah yes." Eadmon nodded. Eadmon remembered hearing of Lunguseth Falentha many years ago, though she had never met him.
"I believe it's customary for the first child of a lunguseth to become an aloyd."
Maybe they're related then, thought Eadmon. That might also explain some of her irregular ways.
"Did he ever mention his daughter to you, then?"
"Come to think of it, no. He never mentioned having a daughter, especially one who is an aloyd."
"That's very strange." Eadmon contemplated for a moment. "I've been in the military my whole life. My parents were military. My older brother is a captain. My younger sister is a commander."
"Yes, mine too," said Peamertin.
"So, don't you think it's unusual that Lunguseth Falentha never bragged about his daughter the aloyd, like a proud father would?"
"Yes, strange that, now that you mention it, but thenshe's an odd one – if I may speak freely."
Garin nodded. "She doesn't act like any aloyd I've ever seen.
The most un-aloyd type behaviour that Garin had noticed was the way Falentha engaged with the crew. She had an easy rapport with the junior officers and the enlisted crew. There was still some coolness in those interactions, but by Elit standards they were positively relaxed.
That gave her an idea. She came around her desk and escorted Peamertin to the door. "Commander, you have the bridge for another few minutes. Send Ensign Aylandro to my ready room."
"Yes, Captain." Commander Peamertin said and returned to the bridge.
Eadmon had barely sat down at her desk again when a beep signalled someone was waiting to enter.
"Come."
Ensign Aylandro stepped into the room. Aylandro was young and enthusiastic, barely a year into his commission. He had been with Eadmon on the Crusade. When she had been given her sudden reassignment from the troop ship, she had asked for Aylandro to accompany her. That request had been granted. He was a good pilot, and eager to please.
The young ensign snapped to attention as the door closed behind him.
"At ease," the captain gestured for him to take a seat.
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"I wanted to ask you something. Strictly off the record."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
Garin gestured for Aylandro to take a seat.
"What do you make of Aloyd Falentha?" she asked directly.
"She has not had the chance to distinguish herself in any action, but she seems competent."
"Do you find her behaviour… different?"
"In what way?"
"On the bridge, when she wants to set a new course, she goes to the navigation console and requests it and then to the helm for you to execute the course. I noticed the way she likes to lay a hand on your shoulder."
Aylandro blushed. "Yes, that's kind of weird. Not saying I don't like it."
"You've also had a drink with her in the bar."
"I'm not the only one, but yes." He frowned. "What exactly do you want me for?"
"I am curious about our new aloyd. I have had no success getting anything out of her. Maybe you'll have better luck."
"Me, sir?"
"Yes," Eadmon said knowingly.
Aylandro's eyes widened with understanding. "And if I find anything out, you want to know?"
"Yes, Ensign."
"And you don't want the aloyd to know that I'm reporting anything to you?"
"You're a smart man," Eadmon smiled.
"But would she…? I mean I'm just an ensign."
"Just use your considerable charms to find out anything you can."
He gave her a knowing look and stood. "Yes, sir!"
~~~~
Gral'hilanth was a little surprised to be ambushed by the junior bridge officer in the corridor outside her private quarters; it was nowhere near the crew quarters.
"Aloyd Falentha!"
"Yes, Ensign Aylandro."
"May I have a moment or two of your time?"
"Shouldn't you go through your immediate superior before coming to me?"
"Well, uh, this is more of a personal matter."
"Shouldn't you take it up with the medical officer?" The joke slipped out before Gral'hilanth could think.
The ensign's cheeks reddened in reaction, but he pressed on undaunted. "No, sir. What I'm trying to say is, I'm just…" He smiled with a boyish charm. "Well, I'm ambitious, sir. I don't want to be an ensign for much longer, and I thought the best way to achieve a promotion is to be of service to my commanding officer." He edged closer to the aloyd and turned his smile up a notch. "Now I know what you're thinking."
I seriously doubt that, thought Gral'hilanth.
"But I'm not asking for something I don't deserve," he continued. "I just want you to consider me for anything that you might have in mind."
Gral'hilanth was amused at the suggestive tone in the ensign's voice, amused enough to play along.
"Come on in, Ensign." Gral'hilanth opened the door to her quarters and gestured for the ensign to enter.
"Thank you, sir."
They stood in the centre of the lounge. "Would you like a drink?" asked Gral'hilanth.
"Yes, thank you, sir."
"What would you like? A beer or—"
"A beer! Yes, sir," he cut her off in his eagerness.
"Slave, two beers!"
"Yes, mistress."
The sudden appearance of the blue-uniformed slave seemed to startle Aylandro. He watched the red-haired female slave walk into the galley. A few moments later, it returned with glasses of beer and served them. The slave then retreated to stand against the wall.
Gral'hilanth lifted her glass and encouraged the handsome, dark-haired young officer to join her in drinking the glass of beer. When Aylandro had taken a few sips, Gral'hilanth took the glass from his hand, and placed the half-empty glasses on a nearby table.
"So, you said you would do anything." She placed her hand on the small of his back and slowly circled around him. "Did you mean anything?"
He turned his head and said, "Anything, sir! You name it, I'll do it, or get it, or kill it."
Gral'hilanth stopped in front of him and moved in closer. "Really, Ensign. Anything?"
"Yes, sir."
She stepped back, picked up her glass of beer, and drank the rest of it in one long swallow before placing the empty glass back on the table. Gral'hilanth's every movement was meant to hold the young ensign's attention. He licked his lips as though parched. She picked up his glass and handed it to him. He gulped it down eagerly.
Her tone then changed from seductive to conversational. "Have you ever owned a slave, Ensign?" the aloyd asked.
"Uh, no, sir."
"They are very useful. They do as they are told. Watch," she directed him. "Slave, kneel."
"Yes, mistress," the slave intoned as it sank to its knees.
"Crawl over here and lick my boots."
"Yes, mistress." The slave did as it was ordered.
"So, Ensign," Gral'hilanth addressed the young man, ignoring the slave at her feet. "Did you really mean 'anything'? Because that is what slaves are for. Are you a slave?"
"No, sir," replied the unsettled young man.
"No, sir," she echoed his words. "Look at it. It will keep licking my boots until I tell it to stop. That is true obedience. While obedience is demanded of you, mindless obedience is not. Stop licking."
"Yes, mistress." The slave started to move away.
"Stay on the floor at my feet!"
"Yes, mistress. Sorry, mistress."
"If I ordered you to lick my boots, Ensign, would you?"
"I… No, sir!"
"Wrong answer, Ensign! If I order you to do something, you do it. You have no choice in the matter, just as this worthless slave has no choice."
"Sorry, sir."
"If you want to impress your senior officers, you do so by obeying their orders to the best of your ability. You do not try to impress them by toadying and scraping and offering to do anything. That makes you little better than a slave. You are a soldier, Ensign, not a slave. Start acting like one! Now get out of my sight."
The door closed and Gral'hilanth looked down at the slave kneeling at her feet. She was disgusted by its submissiveness. It had been a household slave of her parents. They offered her a personal slave to take with her, and she selected the one that was nearest. She didn't care which one she chose. She hadn't even bothered to find out its name. For fifteen long years she had to live among the Quernals and Labrors. Just one step up from the insignificant slaves, she thought. No more. I am Elit again.
Elit, but with needs that were not deemed acceptable.
The first night that she had ordered the slave to her bed, it was completely oblivious of what Gral'hilanth needed. Frustrated at its ineptitude, she had kicked it from the bed and made it sleep on the floor. It soon learnt how to please Gral'hilanth.
"Come!" Gral'hilanth ordered the slave, and headed for her bedroom.
The slave hurried to her and started to undress her. Gral'hilanth stared blankly at the uniform jacket being carefully put away by the slave. The light glinted from the aloyd rank insignia on the collar. She had been through so much, suffered years of frustration and humiliation to finally achieve her life's ambition, but now that she had, Gral'hilanth felt empty. No great victory, no family pride – nobody knew but Ambra, the crew of the Relentless, and her slave.
As the last of her clothing was removed, Gral'hilanth loosened her hair and let it fall freely onto her shoulders and led the slave to the bed.
Gral'hilanth allowed her hands to travel over the slave's soft skin. It lay there and allowed the exploration. In the low lighting of the bedroom, the slave reminded Gral'hilanth of Kamina, her deceased girlfriend. Consequently, she treated it gently, passionately. She gave the slave a long, ardent kiss – the kind of kiss she would share with Kamina, the only woman she had ever really loved – the one who had given her those scars on her forehead, the one who had captured her heart, and broken it.
When Gral'hilanth's fingers entered its vagina, she found it dry, not like Kamina's, which was always moist in anticipation. When her fingers sank deep, the slave gave a muted grunt, not the cute little cry that Kamina would give. Gral'hilanth straddled the slave's thigh, and ground her own sex against it, all the while thrusting deep with her fingers.
The slave reached up and cupped one of Gral'hilanth's breasts; the other hand reached around and grabbed her buttock. Gral'hilanth groaned as she felt a finger probe her anus. Gral'hilanth closed her eyes and thought of Kamina, and for a few seconds the two of them rocked in unison. Gral'hilanth opened her eyes and looked down at the face beneath her. She didn't see the slave. She saw Kamina, though not the living, breathing, vibrant Kamina, but a dead lifeless Kamina with blank eyes. She stopped her movement.
The slave's dull eyes did not change as it realised Gral'hilanth had stopped, and it did the same.
"Finish me off with your tongue," said Gral'hilanth. She flopped over onto her back and spread her legs.
The slave performed its task, but there was no passion, no connection – no love for Gral'hilanth.
I don't deserve it, she thought.
~~~~
Garin Eadmon came out of her bedroom, having changed into a pullover shirt and loose-fitting pull-up trousers, which she favoured when she wanted to relax. She walked into the sitting room of her private quarters and selected some soothing instrumental music to set the mood for a quiet evening. She then went over to the food dispenser and ordered a gwinvin. With drink in hand, she made herself comfortable on a small sofa and took a sip of the crisp, off-dry fermented wine.
Garin was just settling down with her book reader when the door chime rang. This didn't surprise the captain, though she wasn't expecting someone at this hour.
"Come."
Ensign Aylandro entered.
"Back so soon," the captain said.
"Yes," he said in a disappointed tone. "I wasn't very successful."
She put her drink down. "What happened?" she asked, pointing to a chair to the right of the sofa.
"The aloyd invited me in," said Aylandro as he sat down. "She offered me a beer."
"Then what?"
"I told her I was willing to do anything she wanted. Then she got her slave to lick her boots."
"What a strange thing to do," said Garin. "And then?"
"And then she said something like, blind obedience is for slaves and told me to go."
"That was it?"
"That was it."
Eadmon sighed. "Never mind. Maybe she'll reveal something in time. I just don't like not knowing whom I am working for."
Eadmon stood up, Aylandro got to his feet a second later.
"Well, if Aloyd Falentha doesn't want you, I may as well make use of you." She took his hand and led him to the bedroom.
~~~~
Jenissa ap Taliss closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Birdsong and the sweet scent of flowers drifted into the bedroom from the open window. The short, mild winter on this part of Yun'thul was well and truly over, replaced by the long hot summer. The early morning sunshine bathed the room in a deep yellow glow. Already the temperature was pushing twenty Celsius and would rise much higher by mid-afternoon.
She sensed the body heat behind her before she felt gentle hands loosen the ties on her gold-coloured nightgown. The garment slipped off her shoulders and pooled at her feet. She stood there naked, her breathing was short, she was afraid it would catch in her throat at any moment. She felt those hands that had raised her to heights of pleasure the night before lift her hair and start brushing.
"Another beautiful day," said Jenissa.
"Not as beautiful as you," replied Menari.
She felt the slave's breath on her shoulder. She wanted to turn and embrace Menari, shower her face and body in kisses, and feel the slave's own sweet kisses in return. However, even in private they tried to remain circumspect. Only at night would they take things further. Caressing with fingers and mouths. Bringing each other to muted release lest anyone hear.
In these moments, when it was expected for a slave to be close to its owner, they would risk a furtive glance, allow a hand to linger in contact, inadvertently press against body parts that should remain un-pressed. It was almost a game.
A dangerous game.
The heat from behind rose. Jenissa felt a nipple press briefly into her back and a hand brush her buttocks. The hand settled for a moment on her hip. She couldn't help herself.
Jenissa turned and placed a quick kiss on the lips of the slave. Her hand reached out and cupped Menari's sex. The moist heat of Menari's eagerness was apparent through the flimsy material of the slave's uniform. Before Menari could respond Jenissa stepped back.
"Later," she promised the slave.
Menari's dark skin flushed. "My lady teases me."
"Your lady loves you. Later she will show you, but for now, we must be prudent. I must be your mistress, and you must be my slave."
Menari bowed her head. "Yes, ma'am."
Jenissa could see that Menari smiled as she said it. The slave did not fully appreciate the gravity of the situation if they were discovered. Jenissa was all too aware that the Council knew Kikola ap Karthen had fled the Hegemony with her slave Tehvay – a slave that Jenissa had told her family she had put down. At the time, Jenissa had been questioned and had confessed to being threatened by Karthen, but someone, somewhere knew that Tehvay had gone with Karthen, and that someone might know that Jenissa was not threatened, but had helped willingly.
I should have accepted Karthen's offer to leave, Jenissa thought. I fear I cannot maintain this folly much longer.