The Commander's Slave Page 7

  “What about Tomben?”

  “He had obviously been treated by Asha but was found unconscious near engineering. He’s in that bunk over there.” Zehnda indicated the far sickbay bed.

  “And where’s Asha?”

  “That’s just the point. I haven’t seen her yet.”

  Tangus’ blood ran cold. Tomben was a good soldier, fierce, loyal. Because he was dependable and fearless, Tangus had been prepared to overlook Tomben’s more lewd behavior on shore leave. But the thought of Tomben alone with Asha ....

  And outside engineering. Where two propulsion units were out of commission.

  Could he have attacked her? Or maybe Asha had gone into Engineering Room Two just before the strike that had damaged the units?

  The thought of losing her was suddenly unbearable. Twisting on his heel, Tangus left sickbay at a run.

  * * * *

  Asha followed Tomben’s directions. Engine Room Two was a mess, dark from lack of power and smelling of smoke. Gingerly, she stepped along, glad she had asked the doctor for some footwear.

  After a long look at what she wore, he had disappeared for a minute, returning with a bundle of clothes.

  “The boots are the smallest we have,” he said, indicating the footwear on top of the pile.

  With a grateful smile, Asha pulled the pants and combat jacket over her clothes, followed by two pairs of socks on each foot. Lastly, the boots which were only a little loose. Finally, she was starting to feel like a real person again, instead of a decorative plaything.

  When she finally reached the pods, she didn’t at first recognize them, mistaking them for some kind of fuel chambers, but after walking back and forth for half a minute, she realized they were the only group of three things in that section of engineering.

  Reaching forward, she grabbed the handle of the nearest circular hatch and twisted it. To her surprise, it opened easily, swinging out on heavy hinges and tripping some internal illumination.

  “It’s now or never,” Asha told herself, and levered herself in, closing the hatch behind her. A red light still shone dimly.

  Somehow she wasn’t expecting something quite so basic. The obviously one-person pod was roughly circular inside. There was just enough space for her to stand, bent over, next to a seat that resembled a cross between a recliner and a chair. She eased into the chair and looked for the attachments. She knew she didn’t have much time to come up to speed with the systems. She had the feeling that the battle was coming to an end and wanted to be well away before Tangus began looking for her.

  The toilet attachment was unisex, and to her surprise, the combat pants unzipped along the crotch seam to accommodate the plumbing. She ripped the seam of her underpants, and once secure, she strapped herself into the harness and powered up the primitive navigation and propulsion systems.

  If she didn’t think too hard about things, Asha realized, knowledge just flowed into her, and she wondered again at the kind of person she was to be familiar with both first aid and basic spaceship operations.

  Gods only knew exactly where she was, so Asha set the pod’s search parameters to target and head for the nearest humanoid-habitable planet and turned the oxygen mix to just above minimum to maximize her search time. But before she could eject from the Strike, it was done for her. A last shudder hit the ship, she heard clamps releasing and found herself tumbling over and over at high velocity.

  Asha tried to reach the controls but the spinning made her nauseous. She tried to fire one of the small propulsion jets but her fingers only scraped the switch and she passed out.

  * * * *

  Lips were kissing her.

  Asha opened her eyes to an intricately arabesque-like ceiling soaring meters above her. She was in bed, cool luxurious sheets beneath her body. To her right, tall narrow windows looked out beyond an ivory balcony to an idyllic lake scene shrouded in morning mist. One window was open, and she breathed in the scent of greenery carried on a light breeze.

  She blinked. Something wasn’t right.

  Lips were getting insistent.

  She felt another’s wet warmth envelop her breast, hardening the soft peak with nibbles, and instinctively protested by pushing with her hands.

  They met a familiar resistance, her fingertips recognizing the corded muscle they touched.

  “Tangus.”

  He reared above her, his usually grim expression softened, his dark eyes dancing.

  “I thought you’d sleep all day. In fact, I could only think of one way to wake you up.”

  She tried to catch him, but he was too quick, ducking her grasp and continuing his exploration of her body.

  He bit gently at her ribs, tickling and arousing her at the same time, while his hands stroked her legs. First the outside, then the inside, moving further up with each stroke.

  “Your aunt sent a tray,” he commented, his voice muffled as he buried his mouth against the smooth skin of her belly.

  “My ... aunt?” That sounded so familiar in a way and yet so unfamiliar in another.

  “Mmmmm. Which means we can stay here all day.”

  “But--oh!”

  “Exactly,” he purred and Asha could hear the satisfaction in his voice.

  Gently, he parted the lips of her labia, breathing in her musky scent before nuzzling her with his lips.

  “Oh, Tangus.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  But she was past hearing, spreading her legs and lifting her hips towards him in a blatant invitation. She felt his hands accept the offer, slipping under her buttocks and holding her in place while he invaded her with his tongue, lapping at her until she gripped the bed sheets tightly, her breath quickening.

  She could feel the orgasm coiling within her, taking her as high as the ceiling in her bedroom before she exploded in delight, bucking and shuddering beneath his mouth.

  Tangus moved quickly, his erect penis penetrating her while he kissed her passionately. Asha loved the smell of her on him, the mingling of musk and wood, female and male.

  One hand still cupped her behind while he thrust into her.

  “I love you,” he whispered into her ear, then nibbled at her neck.

  She wrapped her legs around him, meeting each thrust with one of her own, panting out her need.

  “Oh, please, Tangus. Oh, please--!”

  * * * *

  Asha woke suddenly, her panting loud in the confined space of the escape pod. With a groan, she remembered her dream.

  That was the third sleep period in a row that she had dreamed of Tangus. But where exactly was that wonderful dream location?

  My bedroom.

  Was it? Had she really lived in such a magnificent setting? Or was it her overactive mind conjuring up delusional fantasies? And surely if she had lived in such a place, if that’s where she belonged, why would she leave it for the dubious pleasures of, say, Helson V?

  She checked her instruments and turned down the temperature control. It was warm in the capsule and--was she imagining things?--the air was starting to get stale. She still wasn’t reading a habitable planet within range although occasionally it would seem that her scope was picking up an anomalous object. A comet perhaps?

  She slowed her breathing and took stock. According to her calculations, she had enough air and water for the next eight days, together with as many ration bars as she could force down her throat.

  What if she didn’t find a planet, or some rescuer didn’t find her, before her oxygen ran out? What if she died out here in the dark vastness of space?

  She didn’t know who she was or why she had been in a crashed spaceship. So far, her entire life could be measured in days, but already she had regrets.

  She regretted that she had taken flight from the Strike during their firefight, leaving the man she had fallen in love with without even a word or look of farewell. But if she had stayed, what life could she have looked forward to as a breeding machine for the rebirth of the Seti species? Would Tangus
have ordered her to a brothel complex where she had to service other males until she fell pregnant? Or would it have been more impersonal--impregnation by insemination?

  She regretted that she had fallen in love with the right man in the wrong circumstances. There were so many things her subconscious thought they could do without: a past for her, punishing vengeance for him. But they were insurmountable obstacles, and she had been fooling herself with brief fantasies of a happy ending.

  And now, as she drew a breath, she regretted dying alone. How long would it be before someone happened on her cold drifting coffin? Ten years? Fifteen centuries?

  With a heavy arm, Asha leaned forward to turn the oxygen intermix down another notch. It would maximize the time available to her, but it would also put her into a near-coma.

  As she drifted off into sleepy unconsciousness again, she hoped the extra time would buy her salvation.

  * * * *

  An insistent buzz broke through her thick sleep and forced her eyes open. She couldn’t believe it. The pod was picking up a planet with a compatible atmosphere. It had locked on coordinates, it informed her, and was heading in that direction. Asha quickly checked one of the readouts: estimated time of arrival in three hours.

  After almost four days, by her internal reckoning, planet fall in a mere three hours. She could hardly contain her excitement. Her first task would be to identify exactly what species she was. With luck she would make contact with more established Fusion members who’d have ready access to such information. Then she’d contact her home world. Surely it wouldn’t take too long for someone to recognize her, especially if she supplied details of where her original ship had crashed?

  And Tangus?

  She brushed the errant thought to one side. She would think on that difficult subject after she regained a speck of self-determination. So far, the life she could remember had treated her like flotsam--from the downed ship to the Helson natives, then on sale to Tangus and his Seti remnant and finally grabbing a desperate chance to launch herself into a vacuum.

  Yes, if there was something she was in desperate need of, it was self-determination.

  Slowly at first, the pod’s readouts began changing.

  Entering the solar system.

  Approaching the planet which, to Asha’s eyes, seemed to get smaller with each sensor reading.

  Entering atmosphere.

  Chutes deployed. She checked her harness.

  The pod hit the surface and start rolling. Asha quickly lost her sense of orientation. When it finally stopped, she checked its status and, after a long pause with jumbled thoughts chasing each other through her head, began unbuckling her harness. Suddenly, it seemed so much harder than previously. Every movement of her body required enormous effort, and she was panting by the time she unstrapped herself from the straps and plumbing fixture and zipped up her pants.

  She couldn’t even stand but had to crawl to the hatch, twisting it open with great difficulty, then falling out with it as she swung the panel open.

  Of course, the problem was gravity. Her body had been in a weightless environment for several days, and now the effect of a planet’s gravity was like a giant pushing her into the earth.

  Asha rolled over onto her back, trying to draw deep breaths into her lungs. It might have been a difficult task, but she hadn’t smelled anything sweeter in her life. Trees towered above her, sending filtered sunlight onto her face, and she smiled.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed there, just smiling and breathing, until she gathered enough strength to struggle to her feet and stick her head back into the pod, trying to ignore the miasma of exhausted air it still contained.

  There were indications of a population about an hour’s walk away, and by pulling every latch she could reach, Asha finally found a small backpack with a container of water and the inevitable ration packs. Shouldering the pack, and using a fallen branch as a staff, she began walking in the direction indicated.

  Would it be a village? A mining camp? Surely not a city? Sounds of strange animal life filled the air, flitting from tree to tree above her head. It was all a bit wild, she thought, as she stepped carefully over yet another aboveground root system, but with a welcome lushness that only a planet with enough rainfall could provide.

  It was perhaps half an hour later when she began to hear sounds of approach. She supposed she should have been more cautious, but she was eager to make someone’s acquaintance. After being sold at a market, losing her virginity, falling in love with her captor and escaping into space in a tiny survival pod, what else could possibly surprise her?

  She found out one minute later when she battled through a thick veil of low-hanging branches. She swiped the large, damp leaves out of the way with impatient hands … and walked straight into a stranger’s chest.

  Her sense of smell identified a familiar scent at the same time as her eyes moved upward to a pair of unsmiling orbs of blackest glass.

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  Tangus!

  Chapter Seven

  “How … I … what?” Words deserted her. What was Tangus doing here?

  He smiled but it was a gesture without humor.

  “I see you had a safe landing. Would you follow me?”

  It was a request, but there was nothing optional about the hand that gripped her arm and the pace at which he led her through the forest. She was about to protest her exhaustion when they happened across the first sign of habitation, short barracks placed between large tree trunks in a random pattern. Then a clearing, then more barracks, all made from recycled spaceship parts. She looked up at the leafy canopy high above them.

  “You’re hiding your camp,” she said.

  “It won’t stop a thorough sensor sweep,” he agreed, “but it will deceive a casual survey.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Four thousand here, the other four on another part of this moon.”

  “How did I get here?” she asked.

  “An interesting question.” He gestured to a passing soldier who snapped to attention. “Get Doctor Zehnda.”

  “Yes, commander.” And he sped off into the trees.

  “But one I’m afraid will have to wait.”

  They stood in the shade in an unnatural silence. Asha couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and with a quick glance at Tangus’ rock-hard features, she was sure that he wasn’t in any mood to listen.

  The first glimmer of welcome she got was when the doctor, approaching briskly, saw her and gave her a warm smile.

  “My dear, I’m glad to see you again. I still haven’t thanked you ….”

  “Get her cleaned up, Doctor, and give her something to eat. Then keep her at your facility till I call for her.”

  “Very good, commander.”

  With a curt nod in her direction, he left. Asha’s bewildered gazes following his progress into the dappled shade of the forest.

  “The facilities on this moon are still a bit primitive,” the doctor told her, leading her in a different direction, “but I think you’ll find them adequate. The commander made sure that the infirmary was the first place up and running in both camps, and I’m grateful that he always assigns us top priority.”

  And it showed. While the doctor’s infirmary was also built of scrap material, the inside was well-ordered and maintained. He led the way to a small bathroom and showed her how the equipment worked, then, after producing another set of fatigues for her to change into, he left.

  Asha reflexively probed the walls for some weakness but couldn’t find one. And there was only one exit, back into the main treatment area. In any case, what would she possibly achieve by escaping again? Tangus had already captured her once when she had launched herself into the coldness of space. She was sure he would capture her again if she tried disappearing into the moon’s verdant forest.

  Gratefully, she peeled off her days-old clothing and soaped herself under the stream of hot water, emerging ten minutes later feel
ing completely refreshed, her hair tied back from her face with a clean bandage she found in the bathroom.

  Zehnda smiled as she entered, indicating that she should put her soiled clothing in a nearby sack, but she held onto the filmy two-piece suit she had originally fled in. She would wash them herself, later.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she finally asked.

  “Well, you did show some proficiency in first-aid,” the doctor mused, “and I haven’t got around to recruiting an assistant yet.”

  The afternoon progressed steadily, and if it wasn’t for the thought of Tangus hanging over her head, Asha would have felt almost happy. There was a small but steady stream of visitors to the infirmary, all with mostly minor injuries--sprains, bruises, gashes, and a couple of broken limbs--and, as she assisted Zehnda, they regarded her with steady, if curious, gazes. And she couldn’t help thinking, is this the one? Was I bought to bear this man’s child?

  But despite her discomfort, the doctor was right. She had a latent talent for a firm but comforting touch and wondered whether it meant she was actually engaged in the life sciences.

  “Are you the only doctor the Seti have?” Asha asked when they had stopped for a quick lunch.

  “No. We do have another doctor at the other camp, with his intern, but I’m afraid it’s just the two of us.” He frowned. “When the Lasc Prein first began attacking our planet, our first instinct was to land and administer to the civilian population. We lost most of our doctors that way. Then, as they began decimating the Fleets, we would transfer medical staff to those in most need. With everything else going on, the deployment of doctors wasn’t on anyone’s mind, and when the Second Fleet finally managed to escape we discovered we only had three doctors and two interns. In the three years since then, we’ve lost a doctor and intern.”

  “And no one has been trained?”

  “With what?” The doctor shrugged. “We have only basic facilities in a challenging environment. I know the commander has a plan,” he cast a quick sideways glance at her, “but I believe we will need to think of something else in the interim. While he has a long-term strategy in mind, we seem to be out of short-term options.”