Her Commander: The Orion, Book 2 Page 3

  Wandering off the training floor to the showers, she did not even notice Sirena’s raised brow or Scala’s narrowed eyes. Someone else did, however. Ssaar, a lean male with the cold eyes of a cobra, stopped at Scala’s shoulder.

  “Keeping an eye on our little cadet?” he sneered. “It appears the captain is, also.”

  “He won’t do anything about it.” Scala shrugged. “And neither will she. Innocent as an Indigon novice, our little Tessa.”

  His nostrils flared with interest, tongue flickering between his lips. “Raile had her.”

  “She didn’t care enough to repeat it.”

  “No,” he agreed, his eyes on the doorway through which Tessa had disappeared. “Perhaps she needs a male with more…experience.”

  “Like you?” She gave a hiss of amusement. “You’ll never get her.”

  He glared down at her, but dull red stained his slashing cheekbones. “Neither will you, if that’s what you’re plotting.”

  “Huh. I’ve a better chance than you, Ssaar.”

  “Prove it.”

  “All right. I will.”

  They faced each other in perfect understanding—two plotters who desired the win as much as the prize.

  Craig’s mind was already racing ahead as he strode down the hallway away from the gym. That heat shield on the right wing needed looking at, and according to Halix, the air system filter showed signs that someone had attempted to open the cover hatch without knowing the computer security code. An additional guard had been assigned to the area, but Craig wanted to brief his crew commanders.

  Also, now that they were en route, he must make some time every day to check on the passengers. They felt more confident if their captain was visible, and Navos’s read that the Orion carried one being with above average hostility must be attended to.

  And…as if all this were not enough, he was nearing the anniversary of the most horrific event of his life. It always depressed the hell out of him, to the point that he barricaded himself into his quarters for at least one night, drank the better part of a bottle of Earth II whiskey, and woke up the next day in dire need of analgesics.

  Great. Just quarking great. His relaxation disappeared as he rode his elevator up to shower and dress.

  “We should have received word of progress on board the Orion by now.” Rra tapped his long green fingers impatiently on the arms of his chair. Their small ship had slipped ahead of the Orion again and now waited just outside the shipping lanes off Chanticleer. “I don’t like independence in an operative. I must know what’s going on aboard that ship.”

  “Perhaps we’d better put someone else aboard to watch her,” Lly suggested.

  “But, what about the spoiler—the secret watcher on board the Orion?” Hha, one of the reedy young men, asked, his pale green brow furrowed. ”Isn’t that his job?”

  Rra waved away the suggestion impatiently. “No. We must use that one only if absolutely necessary—as a last resort.”

  “There’s a small PlanetFirst group on Chanticleer,” Ggee, the other young man, said eagerly. “We can hire one of them.”

  Hha nodded. “Yes, we made good use of the fanatic fools on Earth II. We had no trouble with them at all.”

  Rra turned his chair slowly to face them. They froze as they saw his hair coiling about his head.

  “Yes, we made excellent use of them, until you two lost them,” he said through his small, pointed teeth. “So I believe we shall send two fools in their places! Pack your things. We’ll drop you off at Chanticleer in an hour.”

  Their eyes wide, the two looked to Lly for help. She shrugged, although her hair twirled in sympathy.

  Tessa was restless, too sensitive in her own skin. She was tender and achy between her thighs, and her breasts rasped against her uniform.

  This last encounter with the captain had been just too much. The analgesics available in the ship’s pharmacy had taken care of her bruises, but nothing could rid her senses of him.

  Sparring, with its swift, choreographed violence, had never affected her this way before. It meant physical contact with others, male and female, but she simply viewed it as refinement of her skills.

  With Captain Steven Craig it was different. She remembered every nuance of their grappling, the way his hands felt on her, the fierce concentration in those crystal blue eyes, the hard weight and heat of his muscular body on hers. And his scent—a potent cocktail of virile male. When he had thrown her onto the mat, she wanted him to follow her down and engage in grappling of a different kind.

  Self-conscious, she looked around to see if others had noticed her preoccupation, but no one seemed to realize that she was like a snake ready to burst out of its skin.

  Until, that is, she closed the door of her tiny stateroom behind herself that evening and found Scala sitting cross-legged on her bed, chin propped on her fist. She had shed her shoes, and the snug jacket of their uniform, and wore a tiny camisole with her uniform pants.

  She waggled a bottle of cremarte, the drink favored by Serpentians.

  Tessa took the bottle and lifted it to her lips. It slid down her throat smooth as cream, cool and sweet. And it went straight to her head—just what she needed to dispel her tension.

  “Great serpent eggs!” she gasped, blinking as she set the bottle down on the small table, and grabbed the edge of the locker for balance.

  Scala flicked her tongue in a chiding way. “Poor baby can’t hold her liquor. Here, sit down.”

  She moved to one end of the narrow bunk, and Tessa sank down beside her.

  “Good, huh?” Scala handed her the bottle again.

  Tessa nodded and took another drink. It was good, and so was the feeling of warm, relaxed well-being twining through her.

  “Thanks, I needed this,” she said. “It’s been a very…” she searched for words to describe the way she felt, “…difficult day.”

  Scala ruffled her hair teasingly and handed her another bottle, taking the empty one from Tessa’s hand.

  “What we need is some music,” Scala announced. She flicked some buttons on the small universal remote that hung from her belt, and the sound of throbbing drums and a fast-paced dance number, Serpentian style, filled the small stateroom.

  Scala slipped off the bunk and began to move to the music. As Tessa watched a little enviously, she threw her arms over her head, moving to the beat in a sinuous, uninhibited dance.

  “Come on!” she urged Tessa.

  Tessa unzipped her own jacket and left it behind her on the bed. She rose and began to move to the music, letting it take her into a swaying, hip-swinging dance. It felt wonderful.

  The song segued into another. They danced on and then finally sank onto the bunk again, laughing, Scala’s arm around Tessa’s waist. But, as a slow song began to play, a sultry piano-tar rippling with sound, Tessa felt her laughter slip away, and she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Scala nudged her with a bare foot. “Still mooning over our virile captain?”

  Tessa turned her head, her cheek resting on her knees, and looked at Scala. Perhaps it was the liquor that made her open up.

  “Yes,” she said simply. “I want him—so much.”

  Scala raised a brow at her. “And?” she asked mockingly.

  “And nothing,” Tessa said miserably. “You said yourself, he never fraternizes with the crew.”

  “Nope.” Scala licked cremarte off her lips. She grinned slowly at Tessa and leaned toward her. “You’ll get over him. And I know a way to do it even faster.”

  Tessa eyed her uncertainly. “How?”

  “Simple. Find another lover.”

  She looked at Tessa with a challenge in her lovely golden eyes.

  “You’re mooning over someone you’ll never have, when there are other lovers right in front of you.”

  Tessa felt her breath freeze in her throat, and she gaped at her friend. Did Scala mean… what Tessa thought she did?

 
In answer, Scala leaned even closer, pressing her lips to Tessa’s. Her mouth was soft and lush, and she gave Tessa a slow, lavish kiss. As she pulled back, her eyes were full of smoldering promise.

  “I could show you ways of making love you never dreamed of,” she murmured.

  “Hah—” Tessa managed. Her brain seemed to be frozen.

  Scala studied her for a moment, and then rose in one lithe motion, stroking her fingertips along Tessa’s jaw.

  “Unless you’re studying to be a religious novice of some sort,” she said, impatience and amusement warring in her golden eyes, “isn’t it time to start living a little? You’re only going to be young once, you know. Enjoy it.”

  She flicked the volume back up on the music, and another song throbbed in the air of the small room.

  “Now,” she said, pausing before the door, and looking over her shoulder at Tessa. “I’m going to find some lucky male or female and fuck them until they faint from pleasure. See you.”

  Tessa was left alone, with sensual images flooding her mind. Scala’s kiss had shocked her, but while she had no desire to follow up on it, it had been…exciting. There was something about Scala’s unbridled sensuality that called to her.

  But she feared only one could satisfy her—Steven Craig. His blue eyes burning into hers as he moved over her, those powerful hands on her bare flesh. She groaned and fell back onto her bunk, pressing her thighs together. It did nothing to ease her ache of longing, and she moved restlessly.

  Finally she stripped off her snug pants and dropped them on the floor. As the music poured like a river around her, she slid one slender hand down to cover her mons and the red gold curls there. Her eyes slipped closed as she touched the slick petals of her labia. She drew the wetness of her arousal up over her clitoris.

  His face floated before her as she stroked herself until sweetness imploded between her thighs, and she climaxed, arching up off the bed toward him…but of course he was not there. With a fretful sigh she curled onto her side, snuggling under her blanket, and slept.

  Scala strode down the corridor, her eyes still glittering with desire. However, anger had replaced the amusement. By the great Serpent, she was not used to being turned down. It had happened twice on this cursed ship. Ssaar had been right, the smug fang-lizard. So for now, she was headed up to the Lido lounge, to find a passenger or two to play with.

  She smirked as she touched the small remote device hanging from her waist. Tessa Alligon may have refused her, but the recipient of the holo-video she was going to send would not know that. The camera had been operating during the entire time she had spent in Tessa’s cabin.

  This was the perfect chance to get even with both Captain Steven Craig and the cadet for refusing her. Just a kiss wasn’t enough to convince Ssaar she had had Tessa, but when Craig saw that kiss, he would think the girl a typical Serpentian. She would send it to him when she judged the time was right to make the most mischief.

  She smiled at herself in the mirrored wall of the elevator and ran her hands down her body. She was a gorgeous female, and she was a Serpentian. She would have her pick of the passengers tonight, and to the seven hells with her guard-mates.

  Chapter Six

  The Orion landed briefly that night at Port Straw, Chanticleer, sailing smoothly into the loading dock. The cargo bay opened to disgorge the Egglantian settlers, safe in their incubation units. Drones rolled out to accept the precious cargo, and in a short time the operation was complete, the holo-disc receipt imprinted by the dock foreman. The Orion’s cargo bay doors closed with a whoosh.

  The only passengers to board were a pair of wan Pangaean travelers and a native of tiny Bartis, making the hop to his home planet. The squatty Bartian shimmered with an orange aura. The stewardess who boarded him smiled though her eyes watered from his sulphurous stench. She had placed a protective cover over her mouth and nose.

  “Welcome aboard, sir,” she said nasally. “You have a stateroom all to yourself.”

  He grunted, already trundling off in the direction his holo-boarding pass indicated. Bartians always received private staterooms—no other beings could stand to be near them for long. After he was gone, the stewardess activated the air vac system to cleanse the odor from the passageway, then stepped in front of it herself.

  Tessa was awake as well, on night shift with Izard. They watched the boarding from a surveillance holo-cam, then resumed their patrol of the passageway.

  “Come.” Izard led her into a small private elevator. “As part of your tour of the ship, you should know where the captain’s quarters are.”

  As they stepped out into a passageway at the top of the ship, Tessa was too busy gaping at the incredible view to say more. Once more in flight, the Orion now passed directly under the moon of Chanticleer. The pocked grey bulk loomed over their heads, so close she half wanted to duck back into the elevator and hide.

  “Come on.” Izard took Tessa’s arm and smiled. “Spectacular view, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, yes.” She allowed herself to be towed along until they stood before the door to Craig’s quarters. She felt equally intrigued and panicked. What if he were there?

  “This hallway seems to be quite secure,” she said nervously.

  “Yes, tactically, it is an excellent location for the captain’s quarters. It is made more secure by the laser sensors.” Izard explained the location and operation of the sensors and showed Tessa the code to enter the captain’s quarters. “It is important that all guards know this, should it ever be necessary to…defend the captain there.”

  Tessa stared at him. Had he lost his mind? Last evening, driven to know more about him, she had studied all the holo-vid news snippets she could find on Steven Craig, Earth II. “Perhaps another captain might avail himself of such a stronghold. Ours will be in the thick of conflict. He is a decorated veteran of the Solar Wars.”

  “He is indeed very brave,” Izard agreed blandly.

  They stepped into the elevator. As the hatch closed, Tessa looked wistfully at the closed door at the other end of the short hallway.

  She missed the smile that twitched at Izard’s lips. Izard liked and respected Steve Craig. As a captain and leader, he was the best. But as a man, the easy-going Serpentian thought his Earthling captain held himself to too strict a standard. Life was uncertain, and one must take pleasure where one could—every Serpentian lived by this credo.

  Young Tessa needed to loosen up, also. Neither Izard nor Yvene had missed the interplay between Craig and their new half-human, half-Serpentian cadet. The two should spend their free time on this voyage in each other’s arms.

  Pangaeans Ggee and Hha dropped their bags and looked about the immaculate stateroom, one of the Orion’s smallest, with disfavor.

  “By Gaia, I hate commercial travel,” Ggee groaned. “Look at this place. Not a single green plant.”

  Hha’s eyes fastened on the holo-vision menu shimmering quietly above the tiny table. “Order some fresh flowers from room service. If Rra wants us on board this great wallowing boat, he can provide some perks.”

  He began to unfasten his clothing. “Order drinks, too, will you? I’m going to shower—my pores are parched. Then we’ll contact the female.”

  “About that…” Ggee paced nervously. “Hha, she was promised that we would not board the ship or interfere with her work. She is a Serpentian guard—they are dangerous. What if she becomes angry with us? She will take us apart.”

  The other Pangaean’s hair fastened close to his throat. “I am nervous, too. I hoped a stiff drink would help.”

  They stared at each other. “Perhaps,” Hha said slowly. “We could use some backup.”

  “Did you—were you able to smuggle a weapon on board?”

  “No, no. I’m speaking of the weapon already on board.”

  Ggee’s hair flew up around his head. “Ack. Do we dare?”

  Guard cadets expected to put up with some hazing from the senior guards. More than once Tessa had been roused out
of a sound sleep to go and fetch some delicacy from the galley or act as messenger.

  So she was not surprised that evening to receive a com message to deliver a bottle of berry wine. She had showered and changed into a sleeveless jacket and camisole the color of her eyes, and a pair of black tights. As she was doing nothing more than gazing at the waterfall in the arboretum, enjoying the peace of the jungle-like place, she rose to her feet and jogged down the passageway to the elevator.

  One of the chef-techs handed her a basket woven from Pangaean vines. It held a bottle of Pangaean wine, two crystal glasses, fresh bread and cheeses. She frowned a little, realizing she was delivering treats for a lovers’ tryst.

  But when she arrived at Yvene’s door, she was pulled unceremoniously into the room. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Yvene was not alone. Izard flanked her, and the two had looks on their golden faces that said she was the object of some sort of plot.

  Izard spoke first, eyeing her critically.

  “The jacket has to go. Covers up her breasts. He could barely keep his eyes off them at sparring.”

  “They are nice.” Yvene nodded. “But I say we just unfasten the jacket.”

  Izard nodded. “Better. Subtle, but the instant he takes the basket from her, he sees them.”

  Tessa pressed back against the door, fumbling for the handle. The two were clearly under the influence of some drug.

  “There’s the wine you requested. I’ll, ah, just go now.”

  Yvene grabbed her arm. “Oh, no,” she said. “We’re not the ones who want the wine. You’re delivering it to another cabin.”

  Since Tessa was still holding the bulky basket, she couldn’t even struggle as Yvene unfastened her jacket. The soft fabric sprang apart, and she looked down to see that it now displayed cleavage.