The V'Dan (44 page)

Sighing, she raised her voice. “Okay, people, we have a long night ahead of us. This battle won’t be resolved in a few minutes. If you’re not actually needed at this point, stand down and get some rest . . . and if one of you could kindly get His Highness and I some coff . . . er, some V’Dan
caffen
, that would be great.”

(
Thank you for remembering I cannot stand your version,
) he half teased.

(
I admit yours tastes better. We just need to increase the caffeine content to make it actually useful for us Terrans, is all,
) she half teased back.

JANVA 24, 9508 V.D.S.

Three hours later, just a little past midnight local, it was all over. Between some well-placed missiles—not all of them, but some had struck their targets to very good effect—and the unexpected arrival of three V’Dan warships, the mining settlements on and around V’Durun were battered and bleeding, literally and figuratively. But they were still mostly inhabitable and mostly intact.

More than that, the Salik fleet had retreated and jumped along two similar vectors . . . and the
Embassy 12
and
Embassy 13
had been ordered to jump to the two systems in that direction that were possible targets. They carried the news to the main inhabited planet of that system, as well as intended
to visit the outlying space stations. Neither system had relays, yet. That was another reason to send the ships; it would take four jumps and a refueling for the turnaround, but they would have communications abilities . . . which played havoc with the schedule of systems that
should
have gotten those two units, but that was the potluck of war.

It would take the Salik over two full days to reach either of those locations, but that was fine; V’Dan warships were in pursuit. They had been alerted almost instantaneously via the fledgling network of Terran hyperrelay communications linked to V’Dan lightwave channels the moment the watching Terran crews had realized the Salik vessels had started to flee in a specific direction. The whole thing had been vastly superior to finding out about the battle over four hours later via slow-moving lightwave broadcasts.

Despite the very real and unpleasant loss of lives, the battle of V’Durun was being viewed as a success. As much as the V’Dan strategic analysts wanted to go over this cobbled-together dry-run version of what the Terran ships
should
do, because they could do it best with the least loss of lives . . . it was late, almost everyone was tired, and it could all be analyzed in the morning, when lightwave telemetry was matched to what the Terrans had broadcast of the battle.

Li’eth kept expecting another ambush or emergency of some sort, but they made it to Jackie’s quarters unbothered. Like her office, most of the furnishings were V’Dan though there were distinct touches from Earth. Her office had one of her surfboards mounted on the wall, bearing a vibrant, intricate image of Aloha City and the island’s south shore in a long, panoramic shot taken from some boat a little way from land. He recognized the Tower, the Lotus, and the buildings that served as temporary dwellings for the constantly rotating guests of the Fellowship, though the angle was lower than he had seen, gliding into the capital in a private shuttle.

From the gossip in the Winter Palace, visitors to the Grand High Ambassador of the Terrans thought it was merely some sort of odd Terran combination of painting and sculpture, and not an actual, usable object. The second board, decorated in abstract lines of red, cream, and gold, had been donated to the Empire along with V’Dan-subtexted videos demonstrating how they
were built and how they were used. His people were still trying to figure out the why of that latter part, according to rumor.

The third board, hung on the wall of her parlor across from the entrance, he had not seen since Jackie had packed it away. It bore giant blooms of flowers, all of them bearing five petals in a swirl. Some were blush pink or rich red with darker centers, others were yellow with hints of red at the bases. Many were peach in hue, and one particularly beautiful flower, deep red striated and edged with darker purple, sat at the back of the board, above the fin on the opposite side. Bits of greenery poked out here and there from under the blooms painted on the board, making the elongated oval a vivid, welcoming splash of color on the whitewashed walls.

“I miss surfing,” Jackie murmured, palming the door shut behind him. “Even during the busiest of weeks back home, I could always get away for an hour or two. I was rarely away from a tropical beach and a surfing shop where I could rent a board for a little while.”

“I’d like you to have that free time. I just keep telling myself, ‘when the war ends,’ then try to find a way to make it end.” He turned and pulled her into a hug, but only for a few moments. Long enough to yawn behind a quickly raised hand . . . which she echoed. Resolutely, Li’eth stepped back from her. “We need to go to bed. Both of us are tired, and we need to be sleeping horizontally, not leaning against each other until our knees give out, and we fall down.”

“Agreed.” Taking his hand, she led the way, gesturing vaguely. “Private kitchen and dining area, private study, front washroom, spare bedroom, spare bedroom, master bedroom with its own washroom . . . but you’ve already had a tour.”

He grinned, then yawned again. Once he was done covering his mouth—a courtesy concept both V’Dan and Terrans shared, which was good because the Choya, Tlassians, and Solaricans didn’t like seeing bared teeth without actual provocation—he started unbuttoning his jacket. The drawback to sleeping here instead of in the Imperial Wing was a distinct lack of fresh uniforms to change into. “We’ll need to set the alarm to go off at sixth hour.”

“I thought you got up at seventh?” Jackie asked. Her voice was muffled by her dress being pulled over her head.

“I do, but I . . . huhh . . .” He lost his train of thought. Her undergarments were rather unlike a swimming garment.

Jackie blushed. She started to bundle up her dress, then changed her mind. Snapping it at him, she whapped his arm with the hem. “Snap out of it. The Terran military is unisex integrated. Now, you were saying you wanted to get up at sixth hour?”

“Uhh . . . yes.” He dragged his attention away, mind conflicted between those curves and the fact they were markless. Returning his attention to his own clothes, he draped his uniform jacket over the back of a chair and sat down to remove his boots. “Sixth hour, because I’ll need to return, wash, and change clothes, and meet with V’kol to discuss my schedule. He’s been doing a lot of the behind-the-scenes work, so mornings are the only time I really get to see him. The rest of it is through the comms.”

“I’ll set it.” Moving to the bedside clock, she bent over and fiddled with the buttons.

One boot off and the other pulled halfway free, Li’eth looked up, and gaped. (
Don’t
do
that!
)

Jerking upright, she looked over her shoulder at him, one brow quirked. (
What? Don’t do what?
)

(
You . . . rump!
) he accused. He draped his socks over his boots, then tucked the boots under the chair. (
We’re supposed to be going to sleep.
)

(
Well, it wasn’t deliberate,
) she pointed out. Turning back, she stooped again. (
And I still have to set the clock. It’s just easier to read the controls at the back like this.
)

(
Saints, you are going to be the death of me.
) Standing up, Li’eth closed his eyes and unbuttoned his pants, then his shirt.

(
Just a “little death,”
) she quipped back, and sent him a subthought explanation.

Li’eth blushed and cursed under his breath. He kept his eyes tightly shut until he was turned around, facing the chair instead of her. (
I’ll risk a diplomatic incident and spank you for that.
)

(
Only if you want it returned, swat for swat . . . and yes, I’ll stop teasing you.
)

He heard what sounded like the opening of a lid, followed by a rustling of cloth. (
Please tell me that’s sleepwear.
)

(
Nope. That was my clothes hitting the hamper. I am all the way naked, now. It’ll be more stabilizing—for both of us. Off with your underpants, Highness,
) Jackie ordered. (
I . . . ohhh . . . you have a gorgeous back.
)

(
Is that retaliation for my admiration of your rump?
) he asked, neatly laying out his shirt and trousers on the chair.

(
No, back, not backside. Muscles,
) Jackie clarified, her underthoughts rich with appreciation. (
I do admire physically fit men. And you have some interesting stripes—does that one on the back of your thigh start on your rump? It’s been months since I saw you naked . . . and I was trying to be polite and not examine in any real detail. Even if you have a spectacular set of gluteal muscles.
)

(
Visit the washroom first,
) he directed her, refusing to answer the question. (
I’m going to keep my back turned so I don’t . . . I am
tired
, and I do not need to be stimulated right now, because I need sleep more than I need sex. Neither do you, so no staring at my buttocks. I’d appreciate some help in keeping things calm for now.
)

(
I’m going, I’m going,
) she promised. A moment later, he heard the door slide shut, and let out the breath he’d been almost holding. (
I know, Li’eth, it’s not fair. Women take longer to get stimulated than men do. Usually. And by the time I’d be ready, you’d be ready to sleep.
)

(Exactly,) Li’eth agreed. (
I’m glad you know the timing of the hormones. I really
am
exhausted . . . and I really don’t want to disappoint you. But we’re not hormonal teenagers just past the first flush of
jungen
fever. So to speak. We can discuss this in the morning, alright?
)

(
In the morning,
) she agreed. (
Though if you snore in your sleep, I reserve the right to poke you until you stop.
)

(
I’ll share that right,
) he sent. Padding to the bed, he pulled the covers down. (
Do you have a preference on which side?
)

(
No, pick one.
)

(
Nearest to the washroom door for me,
) he decided. (
Since I’ll use it after you.
)

Turning on one of the bedside lights to low, he turned down the overhead ones, leaving the room in a soft gloom. That made the trio of
na lei
she had hung on the wall cast some odd shadows. Li’eth took a moment to peer at them, studying how
they could look so fresh. Actually, they had been made from some sort of resilient fabric, stiffened, shaped, and colored to look like flowers and leaves, he discovered.
Problematic when it comes to dusting and cleaning, unless they’re washable . . .
The central one had what looked like jacaranda flowers woven into it, while the outer two on either side had peach-hued flowers. Nothing else decorated the chamber yet, but he suspected it was only a matter of time. Everything she had chosen so far called for bright, cheerful colors.

The sparseness and modern furnishings contrasted with the sturdy antiques he had grown up knowing. Admittedly, the Terrans hadn’t been able to bring a lot of their own furniture because of space constraints, but their versions had been refreshingly different in design and delightful in comfort. Very few things in the Imperial Wing had been designed for that. They weren’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it hadn’t been the main priority in their construction.

With the covers pulled back, he eased down onto her bed. It had some give to it, and an odd sort of movement he couldn’t quite identify. Lying back and stretching out, he discovered what it was: an air bladder of some sort, beneath some sort of softening surface that accepted his curves and angles. Within seconds, he could feel his tension draining away . . . which warred with the need to use the washroom.

Thankfully, the door opened after only a couple minutes, spilling enough bright light to make him wince and wake up out of his light doze. Grimacing, he blocked the glare with a hand, then blinked at the colors swirling around Jackie’s lower half. That . . . (
That’s not an aura, is it? Is that some sort of gown?
)

(
It’s a projection of a type of robe or dress called a
caftan
. It’s not easy matching an illusion to the real movements of a body, even my own. I’m only putting in a half boot’s worth of effort. Your turn at the bathroom,
) she added, crawling onto her half of the bed.

Li’eth sat up with a grunt and headed for the bright light. (
I do need it, yes.
)

(
I put out a new toothbrush in a wrapper for you,
) she added politely.

(
Thank you.
) Using the facilities, he scrubbed his face with a washcloth and realized his stubble would need trimming in
the morning after he returned to his quarters. Even if she had a Terran-style
razor
thing, he preferred the V’Dan version. Scrubbing his teeth, he rinsed his mouth, unbraided and brushed out his hair, then rebraided it to keep it tidy while he slept. It, too, would need a wash soon.

Smothering a yawn, he turned off the main lights to the washing room. Leaving the night-light lit, he padded into the bedroom. Jackie had the covers drawn up almost to her shoulders, both bared and one covered in her black- and blue-shaded tattoos. She pointed at him. (
Off with the skivvies, soldier.
)

Face a little hot, he turned his back and removed them, awkwardly flinging the garment at the chair. It barely made it. Sitting down, he tried to get into bed decorously, but Jackie leaned over, her shoulder and cheek pressed against his ribs. Her hand stopped his from drawing the covers over his lap for a moment, then she reached for him, gently lifting and turning his flesh. He held himself carefully still for her examination, trying not to let her touch arouse him.

A moment later, she finished. Her withdrawal was coupled with a soft laugh, a low, richly amused chuckle. He knew it wasn’t aimed at him in any way, but he still had to query, (
 . . . ?
)