Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (13 page)

***

Sitting at the black-lacquer desk in his cabin, Steven leaned back and closed his eyes. “Computer, open log. New entry: Day 290, 2288, 0800 hours. Six hours ago, we found the flagship adrift behind the sun. After stabilizing its rotation, the remote cams we sent aboard her have verified that her crew is dead. To say that we were lucky is an understatement. When the fleet had jumped in-system, we caught the flagship off-guard. Sneaking out of the sun’s chromosphere, we came up from behind her. As we had strategized, the magnetic energy field dampening mines had drained all of the ship’s power, stopping her from formulating a jump. With her shields down, Avenger’s cannons unleashed a hailstorm of armor-piercing micro needles, each carrying a tiny cylinder of Neuron gas. Her crew never knew what was killing them. The vessel’s last offensive move was launching the doomsday missile toward Earth, which was shot down by Ashlyn Parker, a pilot assigned to the groundside laser detail.”

Steven paused briefly as he thought of Ashlyn.

“Now that we have the enemy flagship in our possession, I can’t remember when I’ve seen the crew’s morale so high. Never have they been more boisterous. The chief has reported that it will take four to six weeks to repair the damage done to the enemy vessel before she’ll be fit for duty. To top it all off, just minutes ago, we received perhaps the best news of all. When Gena networked with the flagship’s computer, she instantly began translating and rewriting all of the ship’s programs into English. The ease of translation was something we had not anticipated, but as life so often dictates, with every rising of the sun a few clouds are set adrift.

“We discovered that even though the outward appearance of the flagship bears no resemblance to that of our own vessel, her tactical and operational systems are almost identical to Avenger’s, albeit on a much larger scale. However, since I’m not a believer in coincidence, I’ve assigned a team to search for an explanation to the anomaly.” Steven yawned. “Computer, end log.”

Seeing the golden-framed picture of Renee on the floor beside the desk, he bent over to pick it up. Holding it in his hands, he stared at the blue eyes that had captured his heart sixteen years before. His lips melted into a narrow smile.

Thinking of Renee, he admired her. Renee was soft, feminine, and yet, openly brash. She challenged authority when she believed her cause was just, and never would she ask anyone to do something that she would not willingly do herself.

The picture brought him back to the day when, as a senior cadet just before graduation, he and six friends had gone to Paris on a five-day leave. It was on that trip that they acknowledged their unspoken feelings and confessed their love. “Eiffel,” said Steven. The tri-dimensional picture of Renee came to life, showing her standing at the railing of the Eiffel Tower, looking as beautiful and sexy as ever. Her long auburn hair fluttered weightlessly in the breeze. Her face was delicately narrow, her neck slender. The red and white checkered, Italian peasant dress she wore accentuating her womanly figure. As if it were a beacon of his desire, a ray of sunlight bathed her round cleavage.

Bursting with excitement, knowing that it was Steven’s first trip to France, she pointed to the Seine below. Her spirit was infectious, and he felt the exuberance of a child seeing Disneyland for the first time.

Smiling, Ren then turned toward the camera, gave her all-consuming gaze and smile, and did a twirl for him in her dress.

“Eiffel, freeze.” Steven grinned in response to his good timing. He always tried to stop her twirl at that particular moment. For amidst her twirl, a gust of wind had caught her dress and lifted it, revealing her long legs and pantyless bottom. The view was a memorable tease. Among friends, it had been an ongoing joke between them. Steven claimed she had done it on purpose—Renee with a violent blush had said she had forgotten to pack her panties.

It was hard for Steven to believe that so many years had passed. It seemed like only yesterday that they had married. Yet, through it all they had endured. She had been his support, his fortress of solitude. As Steven became lost to his memories, he knew that she was a woman worthy of a king’s ransom, and yet all she had ever asked for was his heart.

Just hours before, having lifted the communications blackout, he had spoken to Renee. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Renee wanted to discuss Ashlyn. Renee told him the story of the missile that Ashlyn had destroyed and her suited free fall from space into the ocean. She also stated that the two of them had become good friends over the last months.

It worried him that he might soon have to be in the same room with the two of them at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to act rationally. His every thought of Ashlyn intoxicated him.

After nearly two full days without sleep, Steven should have been anxious to get some rest, but as he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, his only thoughts were of Ashlyn, knowing she was about to come to him.

With the destruction of Enlil’s fleet, the element of surprise now on his side, Steven ordered that Avenger be ready to set sail for the Sirius system in thirty-six hours. As the crew prepped and restocked Avenger for the extended journey, Steven took a shuttle groundside to see his family.

Walking the corridors at Sea Base, he contemplated what lay ahead. His heart raced in anticipation of this moment, picturing how he would sweep Renee into his arms and kiss her madly while the kids tugged at his uniform. After all the weeks away, it felt good to be home again.

As the door to his cabin slid aside, he found Renee in the living room, asleep on the sofa. Steven gave a quiet smile, for it was obvious that she had tried to wait up for him. Clutched loosely in her left hand was her antique Harry Potter novel, her finger still marking the spot where she had stopped reading.

Seating himself in the chair across from her, Steven studied the graceful sweeping lines of her body. She lay still, only the provocative points of her nipples moving beneath the pearly-white silk of her negligee. They rose and fell with each tender breath. The mere memory of her touch quickened his pulse and started his blood pumping.

Renee’s fair complexion and auburn hair made a fitting backdrop for her. As he contemplated waking her, Renee shifted her positon, turning slightly toward him. A slit in her negligee that ran down its length slowly opened, sliding away from her towards the floor. A shapely, squared calf gave way to soft, trim thighs. The slide of the negligee stopped just as it began to reveal a tiny hint of fine hair covering the rise of her mound. His groin tightened, his mouth watering as his tongue feigned a stab, recalling times past.

He remembered the night when he had made his big announcement to Renee about his commission to take command of a new Class 9 ship and the almost completed Challenger Deep Sea Base. That evening Steven had taken Renee out for a candlelight dinner at Poseidon’s Sea Food Grotto. The restaurant was a retired Class 3 Nautilus submarine that some enterprising entrepreneur had turned into a luxurious, Five Star tourist trap. Submerged up to the base of its conning tower, it sat on a brilliantly lit coral reef in Hanauma Bay, east of Honolulu.

Having made reservations for the private admiral’s quarters, Steven played the occasion for all it was worth. After they’d enjoyed a bottle of Pierre Gimonnet and Fils and eaten a light but fancy lobster dinner, the waiter returned, presenting Renee with a covered, silver-platter of what she expected to be her favorite dessert; strawberries, deep-fried bananas, and ice cream.

Instead, when he lifted the lid, she was surprised to see a decorative oyster shell with a starfish shaped napkin atop it. On the tip of the napkin lay a diamond solitaire engagement ring.

Kneeling on the floor next to Renee, he gently took the ring and placed it on her finger. Renee looked up, and with tears in her eyes that sparkled like the diamond in the ring, she softly whispered, “Yes.” She then picked up the napkin, looked Steven square in the face and threw it at him. “You could have at least said the words, you big lug!”

Her eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. “They gave you your own Sub Command! That’s why you picked this place!”

Steven nodded yes and then shook his head no. “Well, sort of. She’s a bit more than a sub. She’s a Class 9 Nautilus—the first of her kind,” he said. “She’s not quite finished, but they want me to oversee the final stages of her construction. Her name is Columbus.”

“Columbus? An exploration vessel? Space exploration?” said Renee, incredulously, putting the pieces together.

Steven nodded. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

Renee threw her arms around his neck.

“President Tomlinson said that when she’s ready next month, he’ll be there to inaugurate her personally. He handpicked me to command her. In the meantime, we will be stationed at a base nearby. I’ll tell you more once we are en route. I am under orders not to share the location details until after we have set sail. And—,”

“And—,” Ren repeated with a sly gleam in her eyes.

“I picked you to be one of my officers!” added Steven.

“I see. And what if I would’ve said no to marrying you?” she playfully queried as she glanced at the ring.

“Then I would’ve ordered you to marry me!”

“Sooo, Captain? Every time you want your way, you’re just going to make it an official order?”

“Absolutely! Admiral’s privilege,” said Steven as he began to unbutton her blouse.

“Admiral? They promoted you to Admiral?”

Steven nodded.

“Wow! Sooo—what is my assigned position to be, sir?”

“Hmm, how about we start on the table. Then the chair, then—”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, poking him in the tummy.

He unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor. “Oh, you mean your assigned post?” Steven chuckled. “You’ll head up the Naval Science Department. You will have a full team under you—and you can go into your specialty, Biochemistry. That is what you’d always wanted, right?”

He was happier for her than he was for himself. From the first day they had met four years ago, she had wanted to be a Biochemist, studying the chemical composition of living organisms on a molecular level. It had been her dream.

Excited beyond words, she threw her arms around his neck. Her momentum forced him back against the wall.

“Congratulations, Captain,” said Steven.             

“Captain?” said Renee, taken aback.

“It comes with the job description.”

She gave him a rib-breaking hug. “And what are your orders for me now, sir?” asked Ren as she unzipped his pants and grabbed him.

“It seems you have a firm grasp on the situation, Captain! I defer to your judgment on how to solve the problem,” said Steven.

“It’s a mighty big problem! I might need to work on this one all night!” said Ren as she knelt before him. “By the way, I never did get dessert. I hope it’s still coming?” she said sensually.

“It will be in a moment!”

Seconds passed. “Ouch. You bit me,” said Steven looking down at her.

“Just reminding you who’s really in charge, Admiral.”

***

A soft tremor, an after-effect of the gravitational changes from the destroyed Moon, roused Renee. For Steven, the timing was impeccable. Seeing Steven seated in the swivel chair across from her, she rose and crossed the room to him. Standing sensually before him, she unfastened the thin string tie about her waist. The white negligee fell open and like liquid slid off her shoulders to the floor.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you. By the way,” she added, “happy fortieth birthday, Admiral. Prepare to be boarded.”

***

Morning had come all too soon for such a sleepless night, but what a night it was.

“You’ve got to get up, bum. You’re late.”

Rising from the bed, Steven watched as Renee went to the closet and quietly proceeded to lay out his navy-blue dress formal, nice and tidy, right down to the black polished boots at the foot of the bed.

She sat herself next to him on the edge of the bed. “Should I get you a wheelchair, or do you still have some strength left in those legs?” asked Renee as she ran a pair of walking fingers down his back.

Steven admired her, for being a military wife was no easy task, and for the single day that he was going to be home, he wished he could have spent every second of it with her and the family. As usual, though, a number of items demanded attention.

Steven grabbed Ren’s wrists and pulled her down beside him. Rolling over atop her, he playfully tickled her ribs, making her scream out for mercy.

Gently brushing back the hair from her face, he traced her lips with his finger.

She caught the tip of his finger between her teeth and nibbled on it. “Somebody has to be the adult here—go get showered and get out of here. You are already late. So stow it, sailor.”

With a quick peck on her nose, Steven hopped up.

Staring into the mirror on his dresser, he saw just how much the stress of war had changed him. Though he had just turned forty, the K9 serum that he had received on his 24
th
birthday had dramatically slowed his aging. On this day, however, the cleft in his chin was sharper than he remembered, his silver-blue eyes deeper set, the line of his jaw more chiseled. Though he was six foot three in height and his physique was strong and muscled, he had grown leaner in the last years. Even with the serum, the years of struggling to survive had taken its toll.

Though Steven had returned home wearing a mask of sallow weariness, inside he felt invigorated—the result of his long night with Renee.

Renee came up behind him and applied the finishing touch to his uniform, straightening out the crinkles.

Steven cocked his head as he sensed something. It had been there since he had stepped through the airlock at the base, but it had been so subtle that he had subconsciously chosen to ignore it. Now, it permeated the air with an intense ferocity.

Renee spun Steven around to face her. “I know I’ve told you a lot about Ashlyn, but now that you’re about to meet her for the first time—” She paused a moment, fastening the last button on the collar of his uniform. “I want to warn you that she dresses, well, ultra-provocatively!”

“How provocatively?” said Steven, widening his eyes in exaggeration.

Ren punched him playfully in the arm. “Just be prepared! The concept of modesty isn’t anywhere in her genetic encoding. For her, being clothed is like putting on a bracelet. It is merely an accessory, an optional fashion choice. So as you can imagine, her clothes tend to be scanty. I am not complaining—I actually like it. There is an honesty to her liberated behavior that everyone, including me, finds incredibly refreshing. In fact, if you want me to dress that way, I will. I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. So, just let me know.” After a thoughtful pause she said, “Anyway, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You are insanely cute when you’re jealous,” added Steven as he gave her a kiss on the forehead and a quick, playful slap on the butt. He stuck his tongue out at her.

Reaching the door, he turned to look at her once again.

Jesting back, she stuck her tongue out at him. “I love you, Steven Sherrah—hurry home.” She raised a knee and wrapped it around the doorway, hugging it like it were a dancer’s pole.

With an exchange of smiles, he exited to the corridor outside his cabin.

Though he had not let on, Renee’s words about Ashlyn’s lack of attire had stirred the fire. It was natural to assume it was an exaggeration. Nevertheless, a flood of adrenaline raced through him. His anxiousness to see Ashlyn was making him apprehensive of what the encounter might bring.

As respects good news, Renee had informed him that Sea Base’s regenerator had helped Ashlyn to regain her sight. She was a hero to the people at a time when heroes were needed. The story of the woman who had braved the debris of Earth’s exploded Moon would live for a thousand generations, if not to eternity.

Yet, for Steven it held an infinitely deeper meaning. His family was still alive, and for that alone he would be forever indebted to her.

Ordering Gena’s ever-listening ear to hold the next arriving shuttle, Steven tried to focus on the matters at hand. Fashionably late was one thing, but he was now stretching the bonds of social acceptability, especially considering that the surprise event to award Ashlyn a medal in recognition of her heroism had been scheduled at his request.

For Ashlyn, the timing of the ceremony was perfect. Like Steven, it was also her birthday. However, due to stasis she had physically aged but a few days in sixteen years.

He stepped into the shuttle. “Gena, proceed directly to Stop 20.”

Swaying in harmony to the shuttle’s gentle motion as it made its way through the connecting tubes between domes, Steven mindlessly watched the running lights of vessels as they went about their assigned tasks outside.

With each meter the shuttle traveled, the sweetness he had noticed in the air grew thicker. It overwhelmed his senses and filled his mind with images of Ashlyn.

The shuttle slowed with its smooth familiarity as Gena announced his arrival at Stop 20, the Conference Center. Stepping out into the brightly lit corridor, Steven found himself standing before two heavily armed security personnel. Regrettably, their presence had been required after the initial attack on Earth.

Just after the first devastating blow, several people became psychotic, believing unequivocally that the genocidal attack was man’s recompense for his evil ways. Furthermore, by surviving, they somehow believed that God had been cheated out of his rightful due. The result had been a number of suicides and three acts of attempted sabotage, one of which came very close to destroying them all.

Steven found it strange that people could base their faith upon a God that, while powerful enough to create the entire universe, suddenly needed the help of a lone individual to destroy dissident humankind. The fallacy of their belief was evidenced by the simple fact that they, even as God’s so-called tool, repeatedly failed to complete his work. Moreover, such had been the proof through the millennia of man’s history—one more reason why Steven was now devoid of anything resembling faith.

The guards greeted Steven with a formal salute, the clicking of heels and the thuds of L-96 pulse rifles dropping to their sides.

“You’re relieved. As of now, sentry duty is officially at an end.” Steven believed it was time to look to the future with optimism. If it couldn’t be done, then what were they all fighting for anyway?

Pausing one-step shy of the pressure sensitive flooring that would activate the opening of the doors, Steven stole a quick breath. He wished he knew of a way to control the desires that stalked him, but he’d sooner be able to stop the flow of a river with his bare hands.

Upon entering the auditorium, the guards behind him darted off to find seating. An unending round of applause, whistles, and cheering of Steven’s name showed the enthusiasm of all in attendance. Morale was through the roof after their recent victory.

After squelching the cheers and asking everyone to be seated, Steven gave a few minutes commendation for the hard work that everyone had done to make the victory possible. He also said a few words in recognition of Ensign Jackson for his sacrifice.

After that, it was time for the honors to be given.

Knowing he was about to meet Ashlyn, the ionized air around him thick and warm, he felt as though he were drowning in a pool of hot maple syrup.

“Wars aren’t won by the might of nations. They are won upon the blood and courage of the common man—or woman—and it is because this woman was so unselfishly willing to risk her own life that we are able to be gathered here today. I am obviously speaking of Ashlyn Parker.

“Wherever you are out there, I ask that you please join me on the podium.”

The moment had arrived. He stood transfixed, gazing into the audience, scanning for her face. “Don’t try hiding; I know Commander Stratton conjured up some lame excuse to get you here today.” Amid the chuckles from the audience, Steven’s attention was pulled to the upper, shadowed rows in the back of the auditorium. People rose and it was with a thunderous applause that they honored their hero.

“Wow, and she’s humble too! Come on down, Seaman Parker, you’ve earned this.” The whistles and cheers rose to a deafening crescendo as she reluctantly made her way through the congratulatory crowd. When Steven finally caught sight of her, he froze. A shudder ran down his spine. His mind balked.
My God!

When last he’d seen her, she was still badly bruised, much of her body bandaged, but now her perfection was so profoundly overwhelming that Steven had trouble accepting that she was even real. There was no doubt but that she was the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the planet. From the ground up, she was a masterpiece of erotic art.

Renee’s warning about Ashlyn’s provocative attire had been an understatement of immeasurable proportions. Visually, Ashlyn was a temple—a shrine unto herself that didn’t need golden candelabras to inspire reverence. What little clothing there was—beautiful as it was—only detracted from her mesmerizing figure.

Other than a floor length black cape that hung in back of her shoulders and her knee high black stiletto boots, the only other clothing she wore was a two-piece body necklace. It consisted of a delicate chain of silver interspersed with tiny aquamarine crystals.

The top necklace circled her neck several times, forming a tantalizing choker. From there a single strand came forward on each side, crisscrossing over her breasts. Clasped to the point where the strands crossed hung Tynabo’s silver locket. Its inlaid stone pulsated with blue and white swirling energy.

The bottom necklace was a single strand that rode atop her hips. It came forwards, swooping low below her belly button. At the point where the two ends met hung a swath of swaying strands that gave a teasing view of what lay beneath.

His mouth watered. He was not and could not have prepared himself for this moment. He wished his first meeting with her had not been in public.

With each step down the stairs her body screamed for attention—and like himself, everyone in the room was hypnotized, if not by her face, then by any of the other sensually alluring, bobbing, jiggling, and swaying views. The audience was her captive. He could have blasted a hole in the dome and drowned them all and they wouldn’t have noticed.

As the distance between them closed, Steven’s confidence that he could resist her waned. His eyes raced over her. His heart wanted to explode out of his chest.
Tynabo—what have you done to me?

The astonishing outfit was the perfect complement for her lightly tanned skin, sparkling silver-blue eyes, narrow waist, and midnight black hair.

Not a single detail was different from that which was etched into his memory—from the playful twinkle in her eyes to her pointedly arched eyebrows—from her delicately narrow nose to the swoopy French flair of her rosy red lips.

On her ears and wrists, she wore earrings and bracelets that matched the silver body-necklace.

Ashlyn’s hair was loosely pinned-up, fastened into a long ponytail with delicate, soft curls. A scant few escaping wisps of hair danced sensually around her face.

As Ashlyn’s long stride of confidence and class brought her before him, they exchanged formal salutes. Their eyes locked, the pain in Steven’s lungs bringing him to the realization that he had been holding his breath. With Ashlyn standing before him, Steven now had the answer to the source of the intoxicating aroma that had captured his senses from the first moment he had arrived at Sea Base. It was Ashlyn.

“I am greatly honored,” said Steven, addressing her with a slight bow.

Throwing a glance to the standing audience and then back to Ashlyn, his eyes involuntarily lowering, his mouth spoke the thoughts in his heart, “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.”

Ashlyn smiled shyly. The audience laughed.

“I hate being sixteen. Crazy teenage hormones,” teased Steven. He gathered himself. “It’s now time to address why we’re here today.”

He turned to Ashlyn. “But first, you have my sincere apology for jesting at your expense.”

“Apology accepted,” said Ashlyn, tipping her head.

“Let it be duly noted that this plaque that bears the name of Ashlyn Parker will, as of this day, be placed in our Museum’s Hall of Honor. And, as has been reserved for those whom over the last centuries have displayed courage above and beyond the call of duty, she is hereby awarded the Medal of Honor.”

With a salute, he congratulated her. As he stared into the depths of her eyes, a distant look clouded her face. Her brow furrowed, her gaze changing to one of deep concern. Steven felt an ominous foreboding welling-up within him. So overpowering was the emotion that his knees nearly buckled. Instinctively, his eyes lowered to the ground to catch his balance. The ground met his gaze with a swirling vortex. Entrapped, he succumbed to its power.