Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (22 page)

Asa relaxed into the slightly moist mat beneath her.  After three hours of stretching, running, and toning, she was drained.  Well, she’d been drained even before, a condition that she was rapidly becoming familiar with in the last four weeks she’d spent aboard the
L&F
.  That’s exactly how long it’d been since she had access to the mineral injections needed to stave off the ever increasing bouts of fatigue.  She needed to figure out how to rectify that problem.  Of course she wouldn’t die without the supplements, but her energy would continue to wane until she found a consistent supply of them. 

Stretching, she rolled into a squat before levering into a standing position.  She so needed a shower.  She contemplated using the one located in the crew room attached to the training area.  By most descriptions, it had been like a ghost ship for the last few hours. The only indication that she wasn’t the only one on board was the fact that the ship was still functioning.  There was tension in the air, something that was almost palpable in its intensity, but no one was around for her to ask about it.  She’d contemplated searching out one of them, De’Lhila, or maybe TK, but decided against it.  Up to this point, she’d managed to stay out of the way, spending all but meal times in her quarters on quarantine deck.  It’d be stupid on her part to start searching out attention.  No.  As long as she wasn’t pulled into a situation where it would be dangerous for her not to intervene, she’d stay all to her lonesome. 

She headed for the relative privacy of the quarantine deck.  It would be a bad idea to shower where someone could walk in on her.    She sighed; physically there was nothing more she could do to camouflage the evidence.  She still wore the over-sized sweats, which helped limit her physical exposure to others, but that was about the only protection available to her at the moment.  Punching in the access code, she stepped into what was fast becoming her haven.  Not that there was anything particularly special about it, but it was quiet and, since the captain had agreed to enforce the same monitoring mandates used on the upper crew deck, she didn’t have to worry about her every move being watched.  Her quarters were now being recorded only, instead of being viewed as live feed for anyone who happened to be on the security deck--a concession made only after she’d made it completely evident that she was no threat to Avi’Nyla Zesiro or her crew.  She stripped down, the wet pants and top landing in a pile at the edge of the bed.  After programming the desired temperature into the shower unit, she increased the pressure to that of a small, forceful waterfall before stepping in.  The water was nirvana to her sore muscles, and she lingered in the spray before lathering her body.  The
Lost & Found
was equipped with all of the technological amenities to be found on any IAESC vessel, including a time saving enzyme shower.  True, the process of bathing and dressing could be completed ten times over in the time that it took to take one old fashioned water shower, but the luxury of the deep pounding pressure, the warm cascading spray, was not something that invisible enzymatic mist could duplicate. 

Using a soft bristled brush, she lathered her body, scrubbing way the salty grime of her workout.  She’d always been average sized at 5’7” and 145lbs at her lightest, but inactivity, illness and fatigue had whittled her usually luscious figure to something more petite.  Something had to give.  She stepped from the stall, the system automatically terminating once her body heat left the small enclosed space.  She toweled off, slipping on another sweat shirt to hang to just above her knees.  She would have loved to just go to bed naked, but even she wasn’t that trusting.  Captain Zesiro was as good as her word...as long as her crew was safe, she was more than positive that she wouldn’t hesitate to reevaluate her decision to give Asa privacy if she felt it was imprudent to do so.               

She climbed into bed, her mind drifting through the last four weeks.  Unfortunately, it appeared that at some point, she
was
going to have to have a meeting with the captain.  They should have reached Earth at least two weeks ago.  With no one beating down her door to explain why, she had no other recourse than to ask.  If they were headed home with only a slight delay, that was fine, but if it was something that would keep them in the field for longer than a few more weeks, she would have to come up with a Plan B.  There was no way she’d make it another month or so without her condition becoming evident, and anything longer than that would be downright dangerous.  Mineral supplements aside, she needed to see a doctor.  A specialist.  Someone with specific training in an area she had absolutely no knowledge of.  Her training was largely theoretical. When it came to the body, figuring out how to alter, duplicate, mutate and isolate DNA was where she excelled.  Anything dealing with practical healing and treatment was almost as foreign to her as to anyone else.  She knew enough to keep someone alive until emergency medical arrived, but beyond that she was useless.

“
Dr. Von.
”

She jumped as the disembodied voice blared into the otherwise silent room.  And that’s exactly why she didn’t sleep naked; there was no telling when she would be summoned.  She’d completely forgotten about the involuntary communication systems.  Quarantine was the only deck that had them, but it allowed audio feed to and from the individual quarters without the occupant having to allow the interface.  All someone had to do was go to the security deck and press a button to hear anything that went on in these rooms.  The system worked both ways. 

“Yes, Captain Zesiro.”

“You are confined to quarters until further instructed.”

“What?” She sat up, her voice directed to the ceiling as if that was the captain’s actual location.  “Why?  I’ve been instructed not to access the other decks aside from the training and commons decks.  I’ve adhered to those limitations, Captain.”

“And you are now being instructed that you are not to access any area outside your quarters, doctor.”

“That’s ridiculous, Captain.” She glared at the ceiling.  “Am I to be starved and bored now, as well as isolated?”

“Your period of isolation will be brief, doctor.  Your meals will be delivered to your quarters until further notice.”

“How brief is brief, captain?” she sneered, frustration evident in her tone.  “If I may ask.”

“No, doctor…you may not.”

Avi’Nyla killed the audio feed.  She didn’t need to see Asa Von’s face to know that she was not in the least happy about the new dictates.  Honestly, Avi hated having to isolate the woman any further.  So far, she hadn’t shown herself to be much trouble.  Aside from her initial refusal to complete quarantine protocols, and telling her that Leo was dead, she’d kept a low profile, only leaving her quarters for meals and to use the training deck.  Regardless, the fact was she needed the doctor contained and out of the way during the time it would take them to retrieve Leo--however long that took.  TK would be the only one left aboard, and the last thing they needed was for her to start asking questions about where they were or mention it to anyone once they returned home.  Although they should have returned by now, they could blame their delay on any number of ship malfunctions, but it would be harder to explain an operation that they hadn’t been sanctioned for.  No, Dr. Von would remain isolated until they returned.

Leaving the security deck, she made her way down to launch.  Like everyone else, she was dressed in a full chameleon suit.  The material, identical to a standard cham-blanket, allowed them to blend seamlessly into the environment around them.  Literally.  She could be just a few feet from a target without them being aware of her presence; the suit allowed her to be just another part of the scenery.  Unlike a blanket, the suit covered her from head to toe.  The only identifiable skin was around her eyes, and that was minimal, only enough to leave vision unimpeded.  Even the pack they carried was comprised of the same material; in total it was all designed to permit undetected entrance and exit.  With any luck, they’d be able to recover Leo with the natives none the wiser.  They were entering during one of their long moon coverings since the EP site was located in an open, unprotected area.  If Leo was still stationary, they would be in and out, and if not, then the extended night would give them time to track her and find cover before light.  The reality was that they were going in blind to what the true planetary conditions were.  They knew that they wouldn’t die from breathing the air, but that was about it.  Anything could happen.

Laughter greeted her as she stepped onto the launch deck, her crew all gathered for last briefing before they deployed.  It was a tension breaker, the joking and rabid laughter calming her like nothing else could have in that moment.  This was familiar, this camaraderie that they shared.  Though this was the most important operation of her life, she knew that her team…her family… was behind her.  They knew that she wouldn’t return without her sister and were willing to stick with her until she did.  “So, try to remember to shower while we’re gone.”  She joked, falling into the familiar banter.

“Yeah, we’d like to be able to breathe the air when we get back, TK, and God knows your undiluted funk is toxic.”  De’Lhila wrinkled her nose.

“Is it my fault that you two can’t appreciate the aroma of manliness?”  TK posed in profile, chest puffed out, fists planted on his hips, ‘check out my manliness’ stamped on his face.

“Is that what they’re calling it now?”  De’ mocked his pose, her hands resting on her own cocked hip.

“We’ll at least you’re off the cooking rotation.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “I don’t think I could have made it another three days.” 

Aramis stood to the side, his nervousness bleeding through permeate the air around him.  His first mission, and he was scared shitless.  The laughter around him only stood to increase his anxiety, the ribald confidence making him question his own competence.  He seemed to be the only one not laughin’ it up.  Maybe his anxiety stemmed from this being his first actual field deployment, or maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought he was.  Whatever it was, he felt like puking.  Right there on the shiny black flight deck.  He wanted to lean over and let the breakfast De’Lhila had cooked pour up his throat and out of his mouth.  Surely once it was empty, his stomach would stop rebelling.  He’d be embarrassed as hell, and probably never deployed again, but at least he would feel better.

“Yo, Missy.” Avi’Nyla nodded him over. “Lookin’ a little green over there…you lamenting the loss of De’s cooking too?”

“Ummm yeah,” he hesitated, surprised to be included.  He was used to being the outsider, the ‘New Guy’.  They usually ignored or commanded him, but they never made him feel like an actual member of the crew. “Field rations can make anything look delicious…” He swallowed, the lump in his stomach easing to something more manageable, “Even ‘Fine A—, I mean, even De’s cooking.”

Her brow arched at the slip, but Avi didn’t comment any further.  The kid was obviously nervous.  She needed his game face, not the green faced trainee of a moment ago.  “Now that’s something even
I
can’t disagree with.” 

“Hey…”  De’Lhila’s voice rose in mock insult. “I put a lot of TLC in there.  You know what? Fine!  I won’t ever cook for you ingrates again.  No matter how much you beg.”  She raised her hand at the laughter that exploded all around her. “No, not even your tears will convince me.”

“Good try, De’” TK wiped the tears from his eyes. “But who knows how long I’mma be eating my own cooking.  I might be ready to eat anything.”

“Okay…okay, settle.”  Avi wiped the tears streaming down her face.  The calm that rested around them reminded her of how tight her team was; even Missy was calmer, more focused.  “We deploy in less than 20 minutes, and we should be entering the atmosphere at around the time their moon is covered.  Their nights are almost pitch, so we’re going in while there’s still a little light to camouflage our tail.  Everyone tight?”  She asked, a brief nod from each her only answer.  The smiles and joking were done.  Before her stood a team: trained and competent.  Even Aramis blended in that moment.  Gone was the over confident arrogance of immaturity, and in its place was the visage of a young soldier with the dawning understanding that people’s lives rested in his hands.  “Alright,” she barked, striding towards the recovery vessel, “Load it up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Leo curled tightly into the warm chest beside her, the sway of the hammock suspending them in a comfortable lull.  For the last two days, this is where she’d spent the bulk of her time.  She smiled to remember the convincing it’d taken to corral her hesitant bedmate, or rather hammock mate.  After much convincing, begging, and in the end, out-right crying --no matter what species, men just had no idea what to do with a woman in tears.  She felt no compunction over using a few crocodiles when the end result was this warm, cocooning embrace that she now burrowed into.  After all, once he got over the initial trepidation, he’d seemed to like the gentle swaying.  Now, there was absolutely no coercion necessary at all.  He was just as eager to spend time together in their quite oasis, the intruding world remanded to await their attention.

“Tell me of your home.”  Leo smiled at having made the request that she so often heard from him during these times when they lay content and sated after love making.

Erol shifted, adjusting her to rest more fully on his body until she lazed on his chest, her knees straddling his waist, her hands pillowing her head.  He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been so contented.  He stroked her, his hands shifting through the silky mass that draped them.  They were both naked, the light breeze cooling them in the heat of the sun.  “What would you have me tell you,
Duša
?”

“Tell me about your childhood.”  She shifted her gaze, her chin propped on her folded hands.  “What was it like growing up with so many brothers?”

“It was …tremendous.”  He gazed down into the heart shaped face of the female that was becoming more and more a part of him with every passing moment.  “There was always someone with me.  I was never alone.”

“Hmm…” she smiled.  “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing, or a bad thing.”

“A good thing.” He chuckled. “Usually.”

“It was just me and Avi growing up.  We were inseparable, but there were times when we didn’t have a choice.  Especially before we were big enough to get out of there.”

“Neron and I were the closest, in age and temperament.  We did everything as one.  Learned to hunt, to fight.  We fostered with the
Tobba
together.”  His voiced deepened, sorrow evident in his lowered tones.  “But in moments of his absence, there was Atif, Donagh, Cahil, and later, Uriel.  As I said, I was never alone.”

“You are very close, you and your brothers and sister.”

“It was as our
Majka
and
Patro
wished us to be.  Unlike your earth, many young is a rare and blessed thing.  We were taught to care for one another.  To live as one clan, indivisible to others.”

“I’ve never heard you speak of them before.”  She closed her eyes, again resting her cheek on her folded hands.  “Where are they, your mother and father?”  It was something she’d wondered about before.  While all four of the brothers she’d met were completely grown, and more than capable of caring for themselves, and Uriel, it struck her as odd, the absence of their parents in such a close-knit family group.

“Gone.” His jaw tightened.  “These past three cycles.  Years.”  He amended at her confusion. 

“Oh.  I’m so sorry.”  She kissed his chest.  “I can’t imagine how you must feel.  I don’t know if my parents are alive or dead; we haven’t seen them since we ran.”

Tilting his head, he kissed the top of her chocolate tresses.  One of the things he loved most about her was her compassion.  “Those that birthed you should be punished for their failure.”  His body heated to remember the stories of her childhood that she’d shared with him.  He could only imagine the dangers that she’d faced as a youngling alone.  The animosity that he’d felt towards her sister had quickly melted in respect and profound gratitude once he’d begun to understand just how much she’d done to make sure his little mate had survived into adulthood.

“I just can’t imagine what it would be like to know such love, and then for them to die.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t know what I would do if…I mean Avi’s all I have. I don’t know what I’d do if she were gone…if she died.”  She stroked his arm, his thick bicep warm from the sun.  “Do you do anything to remember them?  I mean on the anniversary of their Reversion Ceremony?”

“There was none. They were never recovered.”  Anger and frustration lined his voice.  “We curried favor that the Goddess Mother would grant them entrance to her Garden of Rest.”

“Curried favor?”

“With the
Tobba
. We gifted them all their possessions.”  He explained further who they were.  “The beseeching of the
Tobba
Priestesses was the only thing we could do, but it is still uncertain without their ashes to offer in repayment.”

Leo’s brow wrinkled; her confusion evident in the slight pout of her lips. 

“We are of the soil…” He smoothed her brow with the pad of his thumb. “Our bodies are returned to that soil during our reversion.  Our
Dušia
are freed to rest with the Goddess Mother in her garden once our shells are sacrificed.  We were never able to make the sacrifice to the soil.”

“Their
Dušia
?  I’ve heard you call me that.  What does it mean?”

“I have named you
Duša
, My Soul. 
Dušia
is the plural of that.”

Leo’s heart jumped, the meaning of his words sinking into her chest to nestle there beneath the now pounding organ. 
Duša
…My Soul.  She’d always known that it was an endearment.  He whispered it to her in their moments of passion.  In their moments of play.  In their moments of rest.  She’d equated it to sweetheart, or the Gwerriera Nies equivalent of ‘baby’.

“Why were they never recovered?” she asked.  She wasn’t ready to delve into her feelings right now, the depth of his own too new to her.

“They were attacked as they traveled to Stolica, the seat of the High
Mexxeja
.”

“That’s horrible.”  She sighed, “I guess no matter what planet you’re on.  Thugs and thieves are thugs and thieves.”

“Violence is a part of us, who we are as a people.  We are Gwerriera Nies,
Duša
.”  His finger lifted her chin until she looked into his eyes.  “It is not safe beyond our home, little one.  Promise you will never leave here without one of your males.”

“One of my males?”

“You are mine,
Duša
.  I have claimed you.”  He stared into her, not allowing her to turn away.  “You are of this clan, our female.  We are your males, your blood.  My brothers are now your brothers, my sister your sister.  You are ours to care for, to protect.”

She lowered her lids, an escape from the penetrating plea in his gaze.  She couldn’t bear the anxiety, the raw pain in his eyes.  The obvious emotion there.  The plea for a promise she could not give.  Her loyalty remained to her sister.  She would take any opportunity to leave.  So, why did she feel guilt at causing the sorrow she glimpsed in his eyes?  Why did her heart drop at the thought of leaving him, at never seeing his tattooed face again?

“Understand this,
Duša,
” his voice lowered, a growl rumbling beneath, “if you run, I will track you.  I will find you, and I will claim you.  You will no longer have a choice.  I will drown you in my scent.  I will seed you so deeply that no other will question my claim.  If another claims you, he will die.  If another touches you, he will die.”

She nodded, her understanding complete.  She’d get one opportunity.

“My
Patro
would have protected my
Majka
until death.” He paused, fresh grief flowing. “In this I know him dead.  My
Majka
was taken, her life too precious to spare.”

“Is it possible that…that they were both...”

“They would not have taken him.  He is dead.”  His jaw clenched tight.

“Your
Majka
?”

“Would have been taken, claimed by another.”

“But you said that you can’t force a female.”

“To
Mati
.  You are correct,
Duša
.  I cannot. But all males are not honorable.”

“I am so sorry, Sweetness.”  She kissed his chest.  “So very, very sorry.”  She continued to kiss up his neck, trailing light kisses over his chin to nibble the corner of his mouth.  She brushed his lips, the touch feather light, comforting in its gentleness.  She couldn’t promise not to escape him, but she would make the time with him memorable.  There was a certainty in her soul, in the core of her, that there would never be another to touch her the way he did.  To kiss, laugh, sooth, or excite her the way that he did.  To love her. 
Love
.  There was no other word to use.  No other emotion she’d ever witnessed could even echo what she saw when he looked at her.  Sadness overwhelmed her at the realization that her abandonment would grieve him.  She too would be a source of sorrow for him.  Her eyes welled, the need to cry clogging her throat.  “I’m sorry” she whispered, the tears overflowing to run down her cheeks.  The words she would not say sitting in her stomach like stone at the bottom of a well.

I’m sorry for what I will do, and for what I can’t.  I’m sorry that I can’t stay¸ that I can’t …

Even in her head it felt wrong to voice the lie. 
...that I can’t love you.

What a crock!  It would be so much easier if that were true.  So much easier if she could pretend that he was no more than a fuck--a great fuck--but a fuck just the same, and not the most purposefully gentle, vulnerably passionate, frighteningly sexual man she’d ever know.  Everything about him called to her.  His scent.  His taste.  The way he…growled.  Her heart would crack when she left.  Like glass it would shatter and rip her apart from the inside when the pieces settled in her chest, but, love him or not, she would leave.

“Touch me, Erol.  My skin,” she breathed.  “Let me feel your hands on me.”  She reached between them, grasping his length.  Even at rest, her hand barely wrapped him, the bulbous head just a little less than half the size of her fisted hand.  “I want you inside me.  Seated deep.”  She stroked him, her grip tightly running his length.  Lifting, she positioned the head of him to fit snugly at her opening, her intentions clear.

Confused at her urgency, he watched a deluge of emotions race behind her eyes: panic, sorrow, anger, fear, and finally resolution.  “Shhh…slow…calm,” he coaxed.  He wanted inside more than she could ever understand, her every nuance a bombardment to his senses.  Placed tight at her opening, his every nerve screamed for him to thrust, to sink into her until her soft behind rested against his sac.  Her resolution, the obvious sorrow in her, was all that stopped him.  He wanted her willing, joyful and passionate.  Not like this.

“I don’t want slow.” She shifted, sinking lower until she engulfed the throbbing tip, her soft wetness wrapping him.  “I don’t need calm.”  She sank lower, his hands at her waist the only thing keeping her from plunging down to take all of him.

He gritted his teeth, his hips twitching with each clench of her around him.  “
Duša
, please.  Not like this.”

“Please, Erol…” Her tears fell faster, the salty drops spattering his chest.  “Please…”

Tracing her tears, he brought the drops to his lips, the taste of her –even in this--delicious.  He framed her face, his hands leaving her hips and allowing her to sink fully onto him. He watched her, her pleasure at their fit evident in the humming arch of her body as she began to move.  She rode him, the swaying of the hammock a bonus in its pendulous motion. 

“Goddess, you please me,” he hissed, his hands resting in the apex of the curve in her waist, his thumbs tracing the edge of her navel.

Leo slowed, the cresting orgasm something she wanted to savor.  She swept her hands back, lifting her hair away from her neck.  He fit her perfectly, his girth stretching her to her limits.  She felt full and empty at once, clenching and releasing in confused abandon.  The male beneath her strained, his loss of control expressed in the uncoordinated jerk of his body.

Erol fought for control.  He watched rapture chase away all other emotions until only bliss and satisfaction remained.  She arched over him until her pebbled breasts bobbing temptingly above him, their berried tips begging for him to taste.  His release hit him with a suddenness he couldn’t prepare for.  With jerky motions, he pulled her forward, one hand anchored at the back of her head, the other in the crease of her ass to jerk free before he burst.  Hot seed spurted liberally into the warm crevasse in the seam of her cheeks, the head sliding through to rest comfortably in the deep well, the still pulsing length of his sandwiched tight.