Chapter Eight

Cheloi could have easily disappeared into a hole in the ground. How could she have even intimated that Lith and Rumis set up home together? She had said it to watch for a reaction, paradoxically half-disappointed when she saw nothing but confusion. If she only knew the power she held, Lith would realise that she was the flame and Cheloi nothing but the hapless moth.

Copan’s words echoed in her head. Have a no-strings affair with her driver? As if it were that easy. Already the Perlim woman had entranced her, to the point that Cheloi could barely spend a handful of minutes together without the thought of her driver intruding. Lith’s sense of energy, her enthusiasm, was out of character in a war zone. It made her stick out like a candle in a dark bombed out landscape. Rumis recognised those qualities too. Was this then, as much a race against her adjutant as herself? Would she win? And, more importantly, what would happen if she did?

If she stretched out her hand, she could touch her driver.

The moments stretched between them, until Lith spun abruptly.

She’s going to leave, Cheloi thought in panic. She’ll walk out.

I’ve lost.

Lith flicked the lock on the door and turned. Her expression was mutinous. “Now what?”

Cheloi smiled, swallowed and tried to look nonchalant. Suddenly, she felt like a lovesick teenager again.

“Would you like something to drink? I have some tawny life-water I keep on hand.” Her lips quirked. “For medicinal purposes.”

“I need something,” Lith admitted curtly, deliberately relaxing her shoulders.

Cheloi nodded and walked over to the bureau, pouring two glasses of smooth brown-red liquid out of a bottle she kept behind closed doors. She carried them to Lith and held out one.

“What should we drink to?” Lith asked, and Cheloi could see from the way her hand trembled that she was a lot more nervous than she appeared.

“How about, possibilities?”

“All right,” Lith said, a beat too quickly. “To possibilities.”

The Perlim life-water burnt fire from Cheloi’s throat to her stomach. If she ever got out of this alive, she had to find a supplier willing to smuggle the drink across imperial lines. The Fusion had nothing like it. When she drained her glass, she put it down on the desk behind her.

“What do we do now?” Lith asked, her voice a little breathless.

Cheloi’s body thrummed. “What would you like to do?”

Lith moved closer, placing her glass on the desk, stepping forward so her feet were on either side of Cheloi’s. She took a deep breath. Her voice faltered only slightly. “I think I would like you to kiss me.”

This time it was Cheloi who sandwiched Lith’s head between her hands, closing her eyes and drinking deeply from her sweetness. The scent of the woman was enough to make her forget Menon, forget Sab-Iqur and why she was here in the first place.

The kiss was as special as the first time, as intoxicating, as encompassing. Cheloi spread her legs apart, forcing Lith’s to open even more, eventually tumbling her blonde driver into her lap. Her fingers were quick and deft as they unbuttoned her aide’s tunic, then they were sliding underneath, capturing the warmth of a full breast in one hand, squeezing it gently.

Lith, fallen sideways, could do little other than offer herself to Cheloi, closing her eyes as Cheloi’s questing hand stroked her body leaving trails of fire in its wake. The colonel set her on her feet again, peeling off the tunic then lifting the undervest up to her collarbone, bunching the soft black material. Lith’s breasts, unfettered by material, were firm and round and Cheloi wanted to dive straight into them, to lose herself in their globular softness, and breathe in nothing but pure, unadulterated Lith.

Slowly, she kissed and licked the warm skin in short strokes. One of her hands was on Lith’s back, fanned out, pushing her forward. The other caressed smooth skin. Under her fingertips, she felt her aide trembling, each movement of her mouth or thumb sending a shiver through the lithe body she held. After many minutes, she lifted her head.

“I want you,” Cheloi whispered hoarsely. “I want to fuck you.”

“Yes,” Lith sobbed brokenly.

“I want you in my bed, your hands on my body.”

Lith’s head fell back as she offered Cheloi her throat. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

It was a handful of steps to the bedroom and Cheloi wasted none of them, efficiently stripping Lith of the rest of her uniform before divesting herself of her own clothes.

How many nights had she dreamt of this? It felt so barren and lonely gasping out a climax in the isolation of her room and now, finally, she had Lith in bed with her, rubbing against her like an impatient cat.

For the first time since she landed on the dustbowl that was Menon IV, Cheloi was feeling joyous. Mindless pleasure was replacing the crushing pressure, distracting her from the politics of her assignment and the cynicism of seeing body after body thrown into the planet’s death-mill.

Lith’s tongue and teeth, moving low on her body, were insistent and Cheloi couldn’t contain the cry that seared her throat as a climax overtook her and she convulsed on its compulsive and persistent waves.

It grew in pleasure until it tipped the balance into pain, and Cheloi quickly moved away, smiling dazedly down into self-satisfied pools of searing amber.

“It’s been too long,” she panted, a little embarrassed by how easily she had succumbed to Lith’s caresses. “What would you like me to do?” She was eager to please.

“Just hold me,” Lith told her. “Can you do that?”

Surprised, Cheloi nodded. Pulling Lith further up on the mattress, she slipped sideways between Lith and the wall, wrapping arms and legs around the other woman and holding her close. She liked the way Lith fitted, tight up against her, her hips curving into Cheloi’s flat abdomen, her breasts resting against Cheloi’s forearm and body.

Idly, Cheloi began running a finger over Lith’s flesh, forming little circular flourishes on her smooth brown skin. She felt her aide’s breathing quicken and suppressed a smile, increasing the urgency of her strokes as she concentrated on one small nub of aroused flesh.

Lith’s eyelids flew open and her body lifted off the bed, a cut-off cry filling the room. Cheloi finally granted her surcease, letting the aftershocks of climax tremble against the both of them.

“I’m sorry it was so quick,” Cheloi said quietly after a few minutes of ragged breathing. “Next time, I’ll take it slower.”

Lith tried to chuckle, but it remained a choked sound stuck in her throat. “I, it still felt good,” she said and her voice was husky with the aftermath of sex.

She wanted her driver again but knew she shouldn’t. Her grip on Lith tightened for a moment, then she relaxed her hold.

“It’s late. You have to go.”

“Yes.” Lith swallowed. “I know.”

The filtered air of Cheloi’s underground bedroom shouldn’t have felt so cold against her naked flesh, but chill emptiness filled the void when Lith rose. She was amused by her driver’s modesty as Lith turned her back and put her clothes on.

“You may want to go into the bathroom and wash your face,” Cheloi suggested gently. “And head back to your quarters as quickly as possible.”

Lith nodded and did as suggested, sluicing her face with a stream of water before donning her tunic. She hesitated after retying her hair into its usual pristine bun, pausing as she took in Cheloi’s still naked figure on the bed.

“I’d…better go.”

Oh, how Cheloi wanted to rip the clothes off her again and spend the next week dipping into Lith’s lithe body, only surfacing for food and the barest minimum of rest. But this wasn’t Ozca Secundus II, or any other resort planet. They were both on Menon IV. Even Cheloi’s friends weren’t really her friends.

“Go back quickly,” she repeated, “straight to your quarters.”

After a terse acknowledgement, Lith left.

Day 1,514 of the War:

It’s just a physical infatuation. No, it’s lust. No, it’s…something more.

The words on the screen danced in front of Lith’s aching eyes. Just thinking about the last two nights made her cheeks burn and the ache in her groin start anew. She couldn’t blame the Colonel for their mutual passion. No coercion had been necessary. No sly shuffle of blame could occur.

Lith grimaced at the columns of text and numbers that slowly scrolled past her. When had bitter chocolate become her colour of choice? For eyes that seemed to hold the entire galaxy in its dark depths. Too shadowed at rest, too cutting at play. There had been nothing deceptive or elusive about Nils, the Fusion lover she’d left behind. He lived on the outer layers of his skin, every emotion flashing across his face with the speed of a laser strike. Nils was crafted for the grand gesture, from the time she’d seen him at one of the Free-Perlim Council rallies to the time he’d thrown the gauntlet down to the Council demanding action and been rebuffed.

She couldn’t imagine Sie operating that way, risking success on a group of people she couldn’t control. In fact, observing the Senior Colonel had shown her what a shrewd operator the woman was, able to sidestep potential objections, negotiate compromises and defuse potentially explosive situations with crisp efficiency. A smile quirked Lith’s lips. It was often instructional, as well as amusing, watching the Colonel in action at the general staff meetings, on those rare occasions she had been given permission to attend.

Compared to Nils, Cheloi Sie was another species completely, both figuratively and literally. She was quietly relentless where Nils was grandiose, silent where he was strident. She was like a cool dark pool of water. Calm and mysterious, with her obsidian-tinted eyes. A Perlim commander, surrounded by thousands of loyal soldiers willing to die at her command, yet so distinctly, so utterly, alone. When she looked at Cheloi Sie, she didn’t see the Butcher of Sab-Iqur any more. She saw her lover.

Current lover. Future lover?

Just the thought made Lith groan and she clicked to the second interminable set of expense records.

She had volunteered for Menon IV to kill the very person she now found so fascinating. How could she even contemplate delivering the fatal shot to a person she had shared such intimacies with? But if she didn’t do this, how could she face herself in the mirror?

Her head ached and Lith reached up to rub her temple, her fingers pulling at the flesh near her eyebrows.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant?”

The voice behind her, as chill and grey as its owner, made her jump and turn hastily in her chair.

“No, Colonel, not at all.”

Grakal-Ski looked down at her with a paternal look of concern that didn’t fool her for an instant. “It’s just that you look, discomfited.”

Lith pulled her hand from her face and looked at it as if she’d never seen it before, then smiled nervously.

“Sorry, sir. It’s just a headache. I’m sure it will go away soon.”

But the Colonel wasn’t to be placated so easily. He leant forward, focusing on the screen. Lith cringed away as subtly as she could. “What is this? Doing the monthly audit?”

“Major Swonnessy thought I’d appreciate the exercise,” she said. It was easier to frown at the numbers than at the territory’s second-in-command. Better for her long-term health too.

“Hmmm. While I appreciate delegation, I wonder if the Major is adding unnecessarily to your duties. I thought you would have already had your hands full.”

Coming so soon on the feet of her erotic thoughts of the Senior Colonel, Lith couldn’t help the goggling look she threw at the screen.

“It’s, er, no problem, Colonel. I’m, er, interested in what happens at HQ. I believe Major Swonnessy had the best of intentions.”

The silence forced her to turn around…and be impaled by a grey gaze boring into her like a ragged corkscrew.

“I’m sure we’re all very happy you accepted the position as the Senior Colonel’s aide,” he said, his voice smooth.

Lith didn’t have a choice, she had to acknowledge his hand in this. “Only because of you, Colonel. I’d like to thank you again for recommending me for this position. It’s been, more than I expected.” Her lips were dry and nervous but Lith resisted the temptation to wet them with her tongue. The puckered flesh pulled at her mouth until she was sure it had stretched into some kind of grimace.

“Always happy to help the chain of command,” he replied with one of his usual insincere smiles. With a brief nod, he moved away.

Day 1,516 of the War:

The craziness had to stop.

The general staff meeting had finished for another week, but Cheloi felt discomfited and ill at ease. Her attention was slipping, her focus fuzzy. In any other commander, that was the ideal recipe for a mistake. For her, it could prove fatal.

She and Lith had met again in her quarters last night. And the preceding two nights. Once more, they had indulged their passions but, again, there was no pleasurable lingering aftermath. Like a bomb, the minutes they stole together ticked away in the back of Cheloi’s head, making her sharply aware of how much time they could spend with each other, and how much more they could grab before it started looking suspicious. The one, the only, factor she had working in her favour was that the Perlim were a rabidly heterosexually-oriented society. While Fusion-born Laisen knew of other sexualities that existed in the galaxy, Cheloi had not heard about more than the socially acceptable ‘one male to one female’ standard relationship during her entire time in the empire. It was as though only the male-female dynamic existed, and she wondered at the lives of people who didn’t fit into that mould, who had to hide their intrinsic natures in order to survive in a corrupt society.

Maybe it was enough for her to regard her mission as a blow for those of other sexualities. The thought amused her more than the rights and wrongs of universal access to public policy and debate. But she wasn’t going to be striking a blow for any kind of independence if she continued with the kind of woolly thinking that had dogged her for the past several days.

Lith.

No, she had to be honest about this. Blaming Lith was taking the easy way out. She hadn’t asked Cheloi to find her attractive. She hadn’t flaunted herself. In fact, Lith had tried to stay out of the way as much as possible.

No, Cheloi had nobody to blame but herself. When she looked at Lith, touched her, caressed her warm and quivering skin, every other thought fled her mind.

Even with Eys, it hadn’t been like this.

Maybe it was the pressure-cooker environment of the planet. The warren of heavy earthen corridors underground. The unpredictable and lethal ionic storms high above. Whatever it was, Cheloi wanted to fall asleep with that lush body in her arms and wake up to its warmth next to hers, and do it over and over again for day upon day. She didn’t want distraction, she wanted oblivion. The problem was that Cheloi hadn’t come this far, completed years of training and waiting, destroyed entire battalions of soldiers, communities of civilians, towns, villages, animals, crops, infrastructure, just to falter at the last moment.

She clenched her hands as she sat at her desk, grateful for the stabs of pain as her fingernails dug into her palms. She had to remember who she was and what she was doing here. This was bigger than Cheloi Sie or even Laisen Carros. This was the Fusion daintily toying with the empire and she was a very important part of that fragile, perilous dance. And that meant, no complications of the heart.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, there was no way she could resume the relationship at some later point in time. Her mission on Menon, and her eventual extraction by the Fusion, were both one-way trips. She hadn’t brought anything with her, besides her wits, skill and experience, and she couldn’t take anything back. Not Lith. Not Rumis.

I should send her away.

Cheloi gripped the hard edge of the desk. No, even she wasn’t that strong. She knew she had to terminate the affair with her driver, before it got either of them imprisoned or killed, but she couldn’t countenance the thought of the younger woman walking away forever. Maybe that would be enough. All she had to do was avoid all physical contact with her aide and let the galaxy resume its level course.

It’s going to be all right, she told herself, staring down at her hands.

She was representing more than herself on Menon IV. She was representing the Fusion. And, despite their broad-minded attitudes to a lot that went on throughout the galaxy, Cheloi knew that the Fusion hated to lose.

Lith nervously smoothed the hem of her tunic with her right hand. In her left, as usual, she held the Colonel’s newly-pressed and laundered uniform. As she walked to the Colonel’s quarters, she made sure her step was slow and measured. They had been careful, she knew that without a doubt. She and the Colonel didn’t meet every night, one time their tryst was conducted during the day, and they were circumspect and politely distant when together in public. There wasn’t a hint of what went on in the commander’s quarters after the door was locked.

She swallowed. It would happen again tonight. She knew it. She would lose herself in the slim, muscled body of the commander of the Nineteen. She wouldn’t be thinking of the Free-Perlim Council. Or Nils. Or even the Butcher of Sab-Iqur. She would be revelling in the pleasure Cheloi never ceased to give her, her mind instead filled with thoughts of how she could repay such passion and enjoyment. Like a finely attuned instrument of Cheloi Sie’s, Lith felt herself getting aroused just thinking about it.

She couldn’t deny that there were aspects of the relationship she didn’t like. The clandestine nature of their meetings, for one. The hurried way in which she had to pull on her clothes, smooth her hair, and cleanse all scent of lovemaking from her face and hands before she walked out the door. And it wasn’t just the mechanics of their affair. Being of Perlim descent, Lith knew the hatred and contempt with which same-sex relationships were viewed by the empire. Even putting the military aspect to one side, if anybody caught a whiff of something untoward, mere execution was something she could only dream about. The Empire was inventive and ruthless with those it considered to be subversive elements. Sexual orientation was no exception to the rule.

Maybe she should have resisted the Colonel’s advances more. She should have been remembering the dead and burnt-out villages, but all she could focus on were Sie’s dark and mysterious eyes, sad and bitter in repose. Lith couldn’t help it. She knew what Cheloi Sie was but, in all honesty, it didn’t matter any more.

The colonel was in her quarters when Lith delivered the fresh uniform and a sizzle of excitement flashed through her body. Then she stopped. Something was wrong. She could tell by the way she was directed to hang the clothing on the hook that jutted from the bureau in the anteroom.

“Lock the door,” Sie ordered, but there was a different tone to her voice. This wasn’t the voice of someone getting ready for another episode of stolen passion. This was…something else.

Lith flicked the lock on the door and sank into the nearest chair. Her body felt heavy with foreboding. Opposite, the Colonel looked at her for a long moment. Something flashed, deep and hard, across her face.

“I’ve been thinking,” Sie began, then paused. She looked up at the ceiling, as if trying to rehearse in her mind the order of the words she wanted to speak. “About us.”

Lith felt a shiver run up her arms and willed the Colonel to meet her eyes, to explain—quickly now!—what she meant by that cryptic statement. The silence lengthened. Lith wanted to slap the table and tell her to get on with it but her hands were frozen, clenched together tensely in her lap. Her throat was dry.

“What we are doing is wrong in so many ways. And I, I must take full blame for that.”

Wrong. Blame.

The words reverberated in Lith’s mind. The colonel’s image jumped up and down in front of her, as if viewed through a badly aligned mute-bubble.

Sie must have taken her silence for agreement, because she continued. “Even if you were a man rather than a woman, the continuation of our, liaison, wouldn’t be advisable. I’m aware that my rank and position of privilege may have coerced you into actions you normally,” she stopped and cleared her throat, “normally wouldn’t have indulged in. And I would be a poor example of a commander if I maintained such actions.”

Lith stared at her and at the profile of a face that was turned away from her. What she and the colonel had “indulged in” had many names, but coercion was not one of them. A pool of anger started simmering deep in her belly.

“Are you trying to say that you raped me?” she asked hoarsely, her voice high with disbelief.

Damn her for making it so fucking neat! She could understand now why the Colonel was one of the best commanders the empire had. She could take emotions, ethics, bone-shuddering pleasure and reduce them to a cold equation of risk and consequences. She could manipulate reality itself so it conformed to her own objectives.

Central Control must adore the ground she fucking walks on.

Yet the anger couldn’t hide the sensation of being ripped apart. She thought that being in a relationship meant that important decisions were made jointly. All important decisions.

But we didn’t have a relationship, did we?

Yes, they did. It might have not been perfect. Near the beginning, she had flayed herself for being all sorts of a fool for the simmering attraction she felt for her superior officer. But she thought it had grown past that. They had grown past that, nurturing a tender, incredible thing into.… Well she didn’t want to speculate, but certainly something deeper and more memorable than a quick affair.

But now, looking at that set dusky face, Lith wondered if she had been a trusting dupe to even think there was a living heart beating somewhere under that crisp, flaxen tunic. Mutinously, she stared at her superior, daring her to lock gazes.

Rape.

Cheloi resisted the impulse to bury her head in her hands. This was supposed to be a rational discussion. When had it veered into such booby-trapped terrain? She felt the flush dart hotly up her cheekbones, washing her face with red fire.

“Maybe, rape is too strong a word,” she said as calmly as she could, but knew her voice was stilted. The words were aloof and stiff, like little toy soldiers marching on parade. “But you can’t deny there’s an element of duress inherent in our positions.”

“Why don’t we try honesty for a change?” Lith asked with heat, her eyes narrowing. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to fuck me any more?”

No.

Yes.

Was there a nicer way she could put this?

“It’s not a good idea,” she finally agreed, striving for a tone of voice that she hoped would give her the upper hand. So far, she felt as though she’d just been caught in a very clever ambush. “We’re in a war zone, both of us in enough danger as it is. Our, our affair adds too much risk to the both of us.”

“Risk?” Lith repeated. “What about feelings? What about passion?”

Sie shook her head. “They would kill us if they found out, Lith.”

“Kill? Is that all you’re worried about?”

Cheloi wanted to hit something. Why now? Why did she have to find such a woman, so passionate and full of fire, precisely when she couldn’t afford to?

“I’m worried about both our lives,” she corrected.

Lith blinked again. She was probably trying to come to terms with the words exchanged in the past few minutes. Cheloi swallowed. This was for the best, she told herself. Why any sentient being would want the attentions of a mass murderer was beyond her. Maybe Lith, caught up in the heat of the moment, could bear such a touch, but Cheloi was sure her driver’s ardour would turn to dust in the end. Those energetic disclaimers would fade into uncomfortable silences. It was better to end things now.

“So that’s it then,” the lieutenant finally said. She sounded angry and exhausted.

“I’d like you to remain in your position,” Cheloi told her quietly, “but I understand if you wish a transfer.”

“Thank you, Senior Colonel,” Lith replied, rising to her feet. “I shall take your request under advisement, and inform you of my decision in due course.”

“Lith—”

Cheloi heard the pleading in her own voice and quickly shut her mouth on it. She wanted to reach out her hand, but how could she extend such support when she’d just, with cool calculation, taken it all away? She watched the deliberation with which Lith turned her back on her, the jerkiness of her retreat. A soft click betrayed the careless flick of a wrist against the lock, then she was gone.

Cheloi was left with the dismal revelation that she had gone and done the stupidest thing in the universe. She had fallen in love.

“Love?” Kyn Behn knocked back a half of beer amid the roaring of her compatriots. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “That’s not an emotion. That’s an excuse!”

The people at the table roared again. Some of them reached across with unsteady hands to shove her companionably in the arm or pat her on the shoulder.

Commodore Behn sat back with a smug smile on her face, her gaze moving from one face to another. An onlooker to the action would have said that the commodore was as sozzled as the rest of her drinking party, lately docked at Pier Peer for much needed rest and recreation.

Fleet B had just returned from a tour of the larger Jalean sector, using its small but impressively armed team of ships to keep the Nedron Union from muscling into its territory. Good cheer from a successful tour had naturally lead to a celebratory dinner at The Cube, one of the better dining establishments close to the space elevator that led up to the pier itself, a transfer station perched just beyond the planet’s atmosphere in the dark vacuum of space.

“Did you see the way that Nedron cruiser tried to pretend its sensor systems were giving trouble?” Captain Zik asked.

Even seated, his torso was swaying. Kyn calculated less than an hour before he collapsed and had to be lifted away by the discreet restaurant staff and deposited at the base’s quarters. She always made sure she tipped handsomely when she came to The Cube. Some of their services bordered on priceless.

Two meaty hands hovered in the air in front of him, trying to imitate his ship and the Nedron cruiser in question.

“Sensor systems,” he snorted, moving his left hand so its fingers bumped the thumb of his right several times. “As if the bastards thought I’d swallowed that one. They managed to move out of the way—the right way too—right smart when I came up their arse. Didn’t expect their helmsman to have such good reflexes.”

There was a tinge of regret in the veteran’s voice, despite the fact that his manoeuvres could have sent a major part of both crews to oblivion.

“Ah, who wants to hear about combat stories?” Captain Gyal interrupted.

“I do,” Zik mumbled, but the older woman was in fine fettle and ignored him.

“Combat stories are as plentiful as hydrogen out there,” she jerked her head up, indicating the infinite space beyond the restaurant walls. “What I’m more interested in are the personal stories,” she shot Kyn what she probably thought was a subtle look, complete with a wavering wink that momentarily closed both eyes. “The stories of the heart.”

The rest of the table took this up as a chant. “Heart! Heart!” Their conversation, which had already reached an alarming decibel level, threatened to drown out the rest of the patrons in the establishment. It was just as well The Cube was frequented more by military types than civilians or Kyn might have had to kill all the occupants just to save herself from future embarrassment.

She put up her hand, requesting silence. Or, barring that, at least a decrease in the volume. “I’m not sure what you mean.” At their grumbled protests, she grinned. “I’ve already given you my opinion on the subject, dear officers. What more do you expect me to say?”

“Do you mean to tell me,” Gyal asked, with the single-mindedness of the truly inebriated, “with all due respect, Commodore, that that lovely bit of fluff that devours you whole every time we dock at Peer doesn’t mean a thing to you?”

“Whatever Seren Prie feels for me,” Kyn replied, shouting now above the jeering hubbub, “is her own affair. I haven’t put anything into her head.”

“We weren’t talking about her head,” another of the captains joked raucously.

Kyn grinned again, just as she caught a flash of movement at her peripheral vision. She turned…and the smile slowly faltered on her face.

A bit of fluff that devoured her whole.

Yes, that was a good way to describe Seren Va Prie, daughter of a fellow restaurant owner. Near the bottom of the elevator, hospitality establishments thrived. They catered for a crowd of arrivals who couldn’t wait till they travelled to the capital before sampling the delights of planetside living. The Cube was popular with the military, but the Prie family owned Prie’s Pleasure, an upscale eatery that catered more to the wealthy cruiseliner crowd. What Va found so attractive in a bawdy senior officer more than a decade older than her was a mystery to Kyn. Judging by the ribald comments of her officers, it was a mystery to most of her command structure as well.

She rose as quietly as she could and slipped away while Gyal’s attention was diverted by a quarrelsome Zik. They were the comedy act of the fleet and Kyn would be sad to leave them.

Her long walk across the polished floor to Va wasn’t as faltering as an observer would have expected. Kyn Behn was far from being as drunk as she made out but it went unnoticed amidst the jovial drinking and eating.

Va Prie was a head shorter than Kyn, with pale barely sun-kissed skin and enormous grey eyes that reflected clear mountain waterfalls. She watched as Kyn approached, her brows furrowed with uncharacteristic concern.

Fuck, she knows.

Kyn tightened her lips momentarily then stretched them into what she hoped was a welcoming smile.

“Darling Va,” she said, stopping when they were only a hand’s breadth apart.

“I heard the fleet was back.” Her voice was trembling. “I had expected a call from you.”

Yes. For all the off-colour jokes and lusty commentary, the Jaeleni were renowned as a society that ran on courtesy. Her lack of communication to Va was a serious breach of manners.

“Come,” Kyn said, taking her elbow. “Let’s find somewhere a bit quieter. With a bit more peace.”

With a small movement of her finger, she indicated to one of the wait staff that she was heading to the upper level, a darkly lit lounge level that contained conversation pits of varying sizes. Kyn sought out an intimate corner near the windows that looked out on the lower reaches of the elevator. Its myriad struts were lit up in an intricate web of dotted lines, stretching up into the night sky like a mythic tower of light. Further up, it was swallowed by clouds, the billows glowing brighter where they obscured the framework.

Kyn—otherwise known as Fusion agent, Laisen Carros—looked at the elevator a bit wistfully, dreading the conversation that was to come.

“I missed you,” Va said and Laisen didn’t have to turn in the dim light to know there was a half-smile playing about her elfish face. Laisen gritted her teeth, stifling the impending impulses of a full-blown tantrum at the words.

Copan would have a fit if he knew what she felt like doing. He would probably recommend suspension. It was only that thought that kept Laisen from jumping up, grabbing Va by that intricately sewn collar of hers and shaking her.

She wanted to yell, pounding words with the weight of blows into the younger woman’s face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, giving me so much power? I am nothing to you! I have treated you with distant kindness and you’ve taken that scrap and built something huge and monstrous out of it. And I don’t want any of it! It’s too soon.”

She wanted to jolt the feelings out of Va, until those enormous grey eyes that seemed capable of swallowing the pain of the universe cooled into something Laisen was better able to deal with. Instead, swallowing her violent impulses, she smiled faintly.

“It was a long and eventful tour this time,” she said, avoiding Va’s statement all together.

But the young woman would not be distracted. “I think I missed you so much because…I love you.”

Laisen’s gaze fixed on the lit struts on the fortieth level of the soaring elevator. Or was it the forty-fifth?

Love? What the hell do you know about love, little girl? Love is having some ravening monster ambush you, rip you to pieces, and leave you gasping on a frigid floor. Love is picking up the pieces, ill-fitting and bleeding, and wondering how you’re ever going to put them back together again. Love is selfishly using another sentient being for physical comfort so you can forget the one person who meant the entire universe to you.

Had it really been only two years?

“What you’re feeling, Va, is more an infatuation. Maybe what you need—”

“Don’t patronise me.” The words were low and ground out.

Startled, Laisen looked over at her and saw the anguish on Va’s face, matched by two perfect teardrops rolling down her pale cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, but the words were still chill. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Is it true? What they say? That you’re leaving the service?”

Even the last tour had been an indulgence. Enjoyable but unnecessary. After making sure the Nedron Union was not about to conveniently “annex” any other struggling systems, Laisen’s job was done. But she couldn’t resist the allure of just one more tour in the company of people she had grown to genuinely like and respect. However, in two days’ time, she was out of the service completely with an honourable discharge. And, of course, the military grapevine had carried the news to her young lover’s ears with the speed of ultra-light travel.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Va’s face lit up with hope as she blinked her tears away. “Where are you going after that?” she asked with choked enthusiasm. “I thought that, considering Fleet B is based at Peer and you’re barracked here, that you might consider staying.” She faltered. “I mean, you already know the people around, don’t you?”

The set expression on Laisen’s face wasn’t promising, but Va gamely forged ahead. “There are so many people coming and going, you’d never get bored. And there’s an academy here that would be delighted to extend an instructor’s appointment to you. You could take some time off. You’re always telling me how little opportunity you’ve had to enjoy planetside living. Or-or you could come and work with us at Prie’s Pleasure…I could talk to the family….” Receiving no response, she finally stumbled to a halt.

The cover story had been set, one that Laisen could execute with ease. No hurried displacement manoeuvre was required this time. All she had to do was gently meander to the edge of Jaeleni space under the guise of taking up a new position. Kyn Behn would disappear and Laisen Carros would eventually slip across into Fusion-friendly space. But, in the face of Va’s struggling hopes, the practised words died in her throat.

“The fact is, Va…,” she swallowed. “There’s someone else.”

“Someone—?” Watching the expressions flit across the younger woman’s face was agonising. Incomprehension, surprise, anger, betrayal. Laisen forced herself to look fully at her as a form of penance.

“She’s dead,” Laisen added quickly.

Incomprehension reigned. “I don’t understand.”

Laisen shifted position, picking up Va’s right hand and laying it on her thigh, absently playing with it with her fingers.

“Regardless of what you may have heard down there,” she jerked her head towards the dining hall below, “I was in love with someone very deeply once. And still am.”

Laisen heard the frown in Va’s voice. “But didn’t you say she was dead?” The strident tone of someone desperately willing reality to conform to her dreams crept into her words.

“Yes.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!”

“No,” Laisen agreed sadly. “It doesn’t, does it?”

“If she’s dead,” Va paused and grimaced, pulling her fingers away. Laisen let them escape. “And I’m sorry, but if she’s dead, what does she have to do with us? You’re not dead. You’re still alive. What about the rest of your life?”

Laisen knew she would have to be much more careful in the future. She had buried herself in Va Prie without thinking of Va’s needs, and now had to reap her lover’s bitterness.

“I wish,” she stopped, trying to pull tangents of regrets and emotions together. Failing. “I already have a new commission waiting for me,” she said, playing the coward. Falling back on the practised lie of the extraction strategy. “Out by Sundi’s World.”

“That’s, on the other side of the galaxy, isn’t it?”

“Near enough.”

A cynical smile twisted Va’s lips, making her look years older. “I didn’t realise I was such an ogre. I must be terrible indeed to make a Fleet Commodore run so many light-years away from me.”

“It’s, I took it before our relationship progressed very far.”

“Relationship,” Va repeated. “At least you’ve gifted me that much.” Her last words were so soft, Laisen had to strain to hear them.

There seemed nothing more to say, so they sat in silence for a while. After many long minutes, Va rose. She hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to add something. In the end, she turned around and left without a word.

Laisen let out the sigh that had been building through the entire rueful conversation.

She would be back down to her usual height soon. That would be a relief, even though she was almost used to avoiding low doorways by now. Her skin would be darkened from its current burnt cream tone to its more natural pigmentation. Her hair and eye colour would also be adjusted and the excess weight jettisoned. Everything that characterised Kyn Behn would be erased.

Except what she had just inflicted.

She might not know exactly what Va Prie was going through, but she knew its rough shape and pinprick texture and she never wanted to be there again.

Ever.

Always be the one doing the leaving. The other way was for victims. And Laisen knew she wasn’t one of those.