The Morcai Battalion: Invictus Part 14

"She is not sanctioned to murder you," Dtimun chuckled.

"For which, I thank providence," the alien commander said.

Lyceria walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the city, where Chacon stood quietly contemplating the neon lights that seemed to stretch forever toward the black horizon.

He turned at her approach. "You cannot sleep, either," he mused.

She shrugged, smiling. "I do not sleep well in strange places."

He leaned back against the balcony and studied her with eyes that appreciated her long, flowing black hair, the way the soft blue robes clung to her slender figure. She was quite beautiful.

She was also admiring him. He was tall and powerfully built. In his close fitting, black military uniform, he seemed larger than life. He was regal, in his way, a respected and envied commander whose strategies, like Dtimun's, were taught in many cadet academies in the three galaxies.

"We are unalike," Chacon said abruptly as he studied her. "Much as Dtimun and Madeline."

She smiled. "Their differences are far greater. Our species are both Cularian."

He nodded. "It is a shame, about their child," he remarked quietly. "I sense that they both want it very much." He turned away. "I feel responsible. They took a great risk to save me."

"One they were quite willing to take," she replied. "And there are things we are not permitted to know,"

she added in a faintly amused tone.

He glanced at her with mischievous eyes. "You can read minds," he said suggestively.

She nodded. "A great gift. But I will not trespa.s.s in Commander Dtimun's thoughts to learn them.

Telepathy can be abused."

"Not by you, my lady," he replied gently.

She stiffened. "Please do not address me so," she pleaded. "I am not your superior."

"The daughter of an emperor," he began.

She reached up and put her soft fingers against his hard, chiseled mouth. "A female," she whispered. "Just a female."

His whole body tautened at her touch. Since his first glimpse of her, on Enmehkmehk, his home planet, he had been consumed by his feelings for her. They seemed to intensify over the years. It had touched and flattered him that she returned them. In defiance of protocol and law, they had maintained contact throughout the war, covertly, managing to avoid detection even by the kehmatemer.

"You are wondering how I escaped the scrutiny of the kehmatemer to come here," she teased. She stepped closer. "You are also thinking that I am very desirable, and you wish I were not the child of an emperor."

"Stop," he muttered, catching the hand that was smoothing over his dusky face. "You will tempt me into indiscretion, with witnesses in the next room."

She laughed, the sound of silver bells in the darkness. "They are too busy working on holographic weapon prototypes to notice us. Her competence as a military officer still fascinates me."

He laughed, too. "Ruszel is unique," he mused. "He will fight to keep her, I think."

She traced a pattern on the black fabric that covered his broad chest. "Indeed he will." She stared at his chest instead of his face. "As you fought your government, your emperor, to save my life at Ahkmau."

He recalled those early days with anger. Mangus Lo, the Rojok tyrant leader, had sent Lyceria to Ahkmau with instructions to torture her to death. When he knew her fate, Chacon took his personal bodyguard and decimated Mangus Lo's personal guard to save her. In the process, he had saved Dtimun and Ruszel and the Holconcom.

"Madeline was willing to sacrifice her life, to save Dtimun's," Lyceria murmured. "She almost died. Her feelings for him are intense."

"I think his are equally intense, for her," he replied. "A shame that your government will put him to death if her condition becomes known."

Lyceria pursed her lips. "Our emperor is quite fascinated by Ruszel. I do not think he would permit her to be harmed."

He c.o.c.ked his head. "How does he know her?"

"The kehmatemer made her acquaintance on Ondar, under unusual circ.u.mstances. They talk about her constantly, especially Captain Rhemun, who leads the kehmatemer." She laughed. "Rhemun's heart is soft for her, which causes a hot and noticeable reaction on the part of the Holconcom commander."

"Cehn-Tahr mating behaviors are quite different from those of my race. Ours are less brutal," he pointed out.

Her eyes met his. "And I am like the rest of my race, intensely strong and resilient," she said. "Ruszel had to be genetically modified to breed with my...with Dtimun," she corrected quickly. "Otherwise, she would certainly have died."

He frowned. "These genetic modifications are disturbing, even to my race. I wish that we had not tampered with our genome."

"Yes, I feel the same. An attempt to improve our race has caused great pain and suffering to generations of us." She stared at him with gentle eyes. "At least you would not require genetic modification to breed with me," she said boldly, and laughed at his expression.

He did not smile. He looked away. "You are the child of an emperor. I am a soldier. One of my antecedents was a minor royal, but I have no claim to the aristocracy...why are you laughing?" he snapped, offended.

She moved closer and placed both hands over his chest. She could feel the hard, heavy beat of his heart in anger. "I mean no offense," she said softly. "But you are too modest about your standing in your society.

You are the most famous Rojok military leader in the history of the three galaxies. Your strategies are studied by cadets of every race, even those who are enemies of your people. You are respected, even admired, by leaders of opposing armies. Your reputation for even-handedness and fairness in battle is far-reaching." She looked him in the eye. "You are the equivalent of Rojok royalty, even if you do not realize it. And my father is one of those who has great respect for you."

"Your father?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded. She smiled. "You risked your life to go to Akaashe to bargain with the Nagaashe for Madeline's release, as a negotiator. The emperor was quite impressed."

"Ruszel is human, not Cehn-Tahr," he began.

"Ruszel is being given Cehn-Tahr citizens.h.i.+p and a high military rank," she said surprisingly. "She made possible a treaty with the Nagaashe which our greatest negotiators have never managed to obtain. This is why your part in her rescue has gained the emperor's favor." She lowered her eyes to his chest. "I think he would not object if you wished to bond with me. Once the war is ended," she added sadly. "Whenever that may be."

He was struck dumb by the remarks. He had not realized that the emperor even knew of him, except through battle vids. There had been no real contact between them except for a modified vid link which distorted both the voice and the features of the imperial leader when Tnurat has asked him to go to Akaashe to negotiate for the release of Ruszel and her crew.

She looked up again. She felt very insecure, despite her a.s.surance of his affection. "That is, if you wished to bond with me, one day."

He felt her vulnerability, and smiled with pure affection. He touched her cheek with his fingertips and bent to press his forehead against hers. "There is nothing I wish more," he whispered. "Except that I could wish you were only an aristocrat and not an emperor's child. I am not ambitious of political power, but it would be intimated that power prompted my interest in you."

She slid her arms around him, shyly, and pressed close. "Those who know you would not think that, and the opinion of enemies is never important."

He laughed. He held her close and rocked her against him. He laid his cheek against her dark hair and closed his eyes, drinking in the floral fragrance that clung to her body.

"I envy Madeline," she said softly. "It must be poignant, to carry the child of a beloved mate."

"Yes." He let out a strained breath. "I should like, very much, to breed with you," he whispered in her ear.

She caught her breath and s.h.i.+vered, just a little. The mating cycle in females was less intense than in Cehn-Tahr males, and usually only initiated by mating itself. But she felt an intense longing all the same.

She felt needs that she had never contemplated in her young life when Chacon held her.

His big hands smoothed down her back, bringing her even closer. A soft groan pa.s.sed his lips.

She rubbed her head against his chest and made a low, rumbling sound, deep in her throat.

He buried his face in her throat, his lips rough against the soft flesh. He was consumed with fevers, with aching needs. He bent and lifted her off the floor. His eyes, as they met hers, were flaming.

"Put her down," Dtimun said calmly, from the doorway.

Chacon and Lyceria looked at him blankly, frozen in the moment.

"Put her down," Dtimun repeated firmly, although his eyes were green with fond amus.e.m.e.nt. "This is not the time."

Chacon looked at the submissive female in his arms and groaned.

Lyceria peered at Dtimun from calming features, and a wry little smile touched her lips. "Could you be persuaded to leave the hotel for a few days?" she asked amusedly.

He glowered at her. "The emperor would put my head on a stick and have vids made of it," he replied.

She laughed out loud, the idea was so preposterous.

Chacon set her back on her feet, with an amused, but strained, expression. "Since he will not leave, we must behave with decorum," he sighed.

"There must be a bonding," Dtimun reminded them. "And we are at war."

They both grimaced.

"That being said, I do understand," he added gently.

"I suppose you do," Lyceria agreed.

Chacon chuckled. "Perhaps we should remain in company, for the time being," he told Lyceria with a new and delighted knowledge of her. "We would not want to risk Dtimun's head."

Lyceria studied him with amus.e.m.e.nt. "No. Although I very much doubt his a.s.sessment of the consequences," she teased.

He gave her a cold, meaningful look, and she cleared her throat.

"There are news vids about the latest skirmish between your troops and ours," Dtimun told Chacon with dancing green eyes. "Perhaps we should view them to learn from them for the battles of the future."

Chacon burst out laughing. "I trust my troops are winning?" he taunted.

"Against the vanguard of the Cehn-Tahr?" Dtimun chuckled. "Amusing."

Chacon took Lyceria's hand closely in his, and enjoyed her soft flush. "Perhaps there are better programs to view," he commented, glancing past Dtimun at Madeline, who was talking to Sfilla in the suite's living room beyond the balcony. "I think your mate will not like your choice of programs."

Dtimun glanced at Madeline with warm, hungry eyes. "Then a nature special about the galots might suffice to amuse her," he commented. He laughed. "As usual, the researchers have gained very little information on the species. The vid is full of fabrications."

"That is because the galots consume research teams who land on their home planet," Lyceria murmured.

Dtimun motioned them into the room and turned on the nature vid feed. He was still smiling when Madeline joined them.

She sat down next to Dtimun on the wide chaise and gaped at the screen. There was a depiction of a galot screaming in some odd cat howls which, the show's host explained, was how the great cats conversed with one another.

She looked up at Dtimun with her eyebrows almost meeting her hairline. "Has this guy ever actually seen a galot, you think?" she asked.

He chuckled. "I was wondering the same thing."

Chacon, who had no familiarity with the species, was puzzled. "Wakken on our planet communicate in such a fas.h.i.+on," he commented, naming a sort of giant wolf.

"Galots are, shall we say, somewhat more sophisticated in their forms of communication," Madeline told him.

"Yes, they communicate with researchers by eating them," Lyceria told Chacon with evident glee.

"Which is why this vid flasher is fabricating his conclusions."

Dtimun c.o.c.ked his head and studied the human flash journalist. He shook his head. "They would not consume this one."

"No?" Madeline asked, fascinated. "Why not?"

"Because he is Terravegan," Lyceria commented.

Madeline and Chacon exchanged curious glances.

"He is a vegetarian, as most of the non-military humans are," Dtimun told them, smiling. "No galot will eat a human who consumes only vegetation. He would consider the taste offensive."

"Well, I know one thing," Madeline commented. "If I ever set foot in the primary Erida.n.u.s planetary system, I'm becoming a vegan before I get off the s.h.i.+p!"

And they all laughed.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Between them, Dtimun and Chacon had gone through every contact they had, trying to locate the operatives that Ho Chan Ho had sent after Chacon. There were many rumors, but no facts. They could only learn that the kidnapping was to take place soon, and that the operatives were already in place.

Madeline had one contact of her own, and she led the two alien commanders to a shady arms dealer in the back room of a gambling shop. But the contact knew nothing. He did, however, seem to notice the direction they took when they left him. And he accessed a private vid channel shortly thereafter.

"It's so frustrating," Madeline muttered as they walked. "Somebody in Benaski Port must know something they could tell us."

"Such information comes at a price," Chacon mused. "But I agree, we cannot even find someone to bribe for intel."