Blue Galaxy (6 page)

A pang of pain shot through him, and he flipped her onto her back, drawing an astonished gasp.

He roughly parted her thighs and slid his cock into her hot, wet depths. He pounded away at her, showing no mercy, but she met his every thrust with one of her own. He watched her as she twisted and squirmed and trembled her way to ecstasy, her legs entwined with his, her hands clasping his buttocks and urging him onward.

She cried his name and disintegrated in his arms, saying the words he longed to hear, that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She reached her peak with her eyes wide-open, staring into his, and there was nothing in them but love, joy and passion.

She locked her arms and legs around him as he came, and moaned with joy as he filled her. He groaned into the soft, sweat-drenched crevice between her shoulder and neck. She grabbed his head and forced him to look at her. Two large tears spilled down her face. Her eyes were anguished, and he closed his so he wouldn’t see her and so she wouldn’t see the tears building in his eyes—tears for what could have been and for what could never be.

She said his name, trying to speak to him. He collapsed on the bunk beside her and listened. She wanted him to take her somewhere for one last time before their journey ended.
Ramses,
he thought, his heart still pounding. She snuggled up next to him and ran her fingers over his face, his chest, as if she couldn’t bear to not be touching him. She really was quite an amazing actress.

They strapped in again as they prepared to jump, and she watched as he keyed in the coordinates. He pulled out his flask and took a slug before offering it to her. She smiled and shook her head.

“Are you sure? It’ll make jump more bearable.”

“No, thanks. Jump will go easier for me this time. I didn’t focus like you told me to. I couldn’t think of anything. This time, though, I have something to focus on.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Where to, Javan?”

Not Ramses.
“Eighth Sector. Then only one more jump. After that we’ll be traveling in-system.”

“Eighth Sector? Isn’t that where Valhalla Station is?”

“That’s right,” he replied tersely, running the final checks.

“Will you—”

“No, I can’t take you there.”

He caught her speculative expression before she could clear it. “All right, I just thought it would be interesting, and we could have a shower and a decent meal. I read your description in your files. It sounded interesting.”

“Valhalla has changed. I’m not taking you there. After the next jump we’ll put in somewhere for a few hours.”

“Javan? Is something wrong?”

“Not a damn thing.”

She lapsed into silence as he started the countdown.

They jumped, and the maelstrom hit with whirling terrors coming from every side: Sola smiling, Sola crying, confusion. Jump ended, and Javan fought for consciousness, disoriented and panting. He hadn’t focused, had jumped without fixing his mind on a concrete point.

“Open your mouth.”

He obeyed, and something small, round and metallic was placed on the back of his tongue. Then, with a surprising amount of force, Sola pushed his mouth closed and held his nose. He struggled against the restraints and tried to push her away. He held his breath for as long as he could, flailing till his limbs turned weak and his lungs were bursting, while Sola plead with him the entire time.

“Please, Javan, just swallow.”

He swallowed, and a cold object slid down his throat and into his belly. Sola released him and unstrapped the restraints. By the time she was finished, he was breathing normally but pretended to still be faint. As soon as the last restraint was undone, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“What was that?” he growled, digging his fingers into her flesh.

She didn’t even flinch. “A device that will explode within twenty-four hours.”

“What?” He shook her. “Why?”

“We need to go to Valhalla Station.”

“I can’t go there!”

“Yes, we can. And we will. I’ll turn off the device as soon as we return. I promise.”

He released her, tamping down his fury, remembering the game. He feigned confusion. “Why are you doing this? I thought we… I thought…”

She approached and snaked her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry this was necessary. I promise we’ll be back in less than twenty-four hours.” She kissed him gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, but there’s something I have to do on Valhalla.”

“Did you really have to go to these lengths?” He was angry with himself for underestimating her, but he made his face show hurt and confusion.

A brief expression of pain flashed across her face. “I…I’m sorry. You wouldn’t take me to Valhalla. The situation called for drastic measures.”

He stared at her. “Who are you, Sola? Who are you really?”

She sat in her command chair. “I’m a Blue. And you don’t need to know anything else. Now take me to Valhalla.”

The cold metal sphere in his belly gave out a tiny pulse. It was live. He’d only heard of such objects; they were usually used as assassination devices.

“Why?”

“You do
not
need to know. I’m sorry I had to use these tactics, but you gave me no other option. Valhalla now, Captain!” She held up her hand, pointing her fingers upward, and slid a fingernail into a crevice in her wrist—something he’d never noticed in the many hours spent worshipping and exploring her body. He watched, aghast, as a tiny computer monitor slid out of her wrist. She looked over at him and grinned.

Javan looked on, speechless. Sola was no innocent girl being sold into marital bondage, but neither was she a tough survivor trying to escape an unwanted marriage by allying herself to an even more powerful man. No, she was something far more dangerous; something he’d only heard rumors of. She’d been enhanced, maybe even completely puterized. And he was in much further over his head than he could have thought possible.

Javan completed the docking procedures for Valhalla Station and released himself from the command chair. “Where are you going on Valhalla?” Sola tapped at her terminal again, and he couldn’t help but watch. “Are you fully puterized?”

“
We
are going somewhere on Valhalla. You’ll find out when you get there. And no, I’m not fully puterized. Just enhanced.”

“In what ways?”

Still studying her terminal, she replied, “You don’t need to know.”

“Do you have feelings?”

“I’m human, Javan.”

“No, you’re not. I don’t know what you are, but human? No. Humans have hearts, and after the way you’ve treated and used me, you couldn’t call what you have a heart.” He felt satisfied as her face scrunched at his comment. It was good to know that, unlike him, she still possessed a scrap of conscience. He filed the information away for future reference.

“This way.” She took his hand and led him off the ship and into the tunnels that wound beneath Valhalla Station. They went through various twists and turns, and she never once lost her way.

“You didn’t really get lost on Artemis, did you?”

“No.”

“Why have you been lying to me? If you’re trying to avoid this arranged marriage, I’ve offered to help you before. I’m still prepared to.”

“Would you believe me if I said I loved you and have no intention of getting you involved in a situation that could cost you your life?”

“No, I wouldn’t. You put an explosive device inside me. That’s not an act of love, my lady.”

She laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

They walked on in silence for a few minutes.

“Why all the sex, Sola? To bind me to you? To get me to fall in love with you?”

She stopped and turned to him. “Be honest with yourself. You took an illegal job for a ridiculous amount of money. You fucked the cargo—repeatedly, I might add. You broke all the rules about asking or answering questions. I don’t know why you’re so shocked. You married a Blue. You lived among us. Didn’t you learn anything?”

“I thought you were different,” he said softly.

“I
am
different. I’m
very
different.”

Just when he had her figured out, she had him guessing again. She wasn’t enjoying marching him down this hallway with a bomb in his gut. What the hell did she have to do here on Valhalla that was so damn important? And why did it have to be on
Valhalla
of all the places in the galaxy?

She grabbed his hand as they arrived at a brightly lit concourse. The place was packed with people. Javan swept the crowd and sighed in relief. Only pirates, cutthroats, smugglers, mercenaries and assassins to worry about.

“This way,” she said and led him through the crowd.

“Not a good idea,” he whispered, keeping his head down to prevent making eye contact with anyone.

“Just keep walking.”

He walked faster as the crowd murmured. Someone whispered his name, was shushed, and several people scurried off in different directions.

“Oh shit!”

“Relax, we’re there.” She swept him into a dark room, then closed and locked the door behind them.

“Sola? There’s something I should tell you about Valhalla.”

“Later,” she said curtly as a small wizened man in black robes stepped into the room.

“What can I do for you, my children?” he asked, drawing the curtains in the rear of the room to reveal the ancient crucifix adorning an altar. Javan stared at it, around the room, then back at Sola. She’d managed to render him speechless again.

“A marriage ceremony, Padre. The fastest you’ve got. We’re in a hurry.” She poured a handful of loose credits into the padre’s hand.

The padre stuffed the credits into a pocket of his voluminous robes. “A hurry, you say? Then let’s get started.”

He spread his hands above his head and stared at the ceiling. “Your names, please?”

“Captain Javan Rhodes and Marisol de la Vega.”

The padre paused, his face ashen.

“Javan…Rhodes?” he said, before hiding his face in his hands.

Briefly stunned into silence, Javan gazed at the crucifix before turning to Sola. “Did you say Marisol…de la Vega?”

“Yes.” There was a sharp click as a minuscule weapon slid out from the underside of her wrist. Sola trained the laser sight squarely in the middle of the padre’s forehead. “Continue with the ceremony, if you will, Padre. I’d hate to have to slice off part of your anatomy.”

The padre recovered quickly. Raising his hands again, he repeated the words of the ancient ceremony. “Do you, Marisol de la Vega, take Captain Javan Rhodes as your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold—”

“Yes!” Sola barked and turned the laser on Javan.

“Do you, Captain Javan Rhodes, take Marisol de la Vega—”

“Do you know who she is, Padre?”

The padre shook his head. “No, but I know who you are. Why did you come back here? Surely you know—”

“De. La. Vega, Padre. Don’t you know the name?” He turned to Sola. “Your uncle is the dictator. Right?”

The padre’s ashen face went even paler.

“Wrong. I have no uncles. My father murdered them long ago. The dictator, unfortunately, is my father. Continue, Padre.”

The poor man was shaking, but he raised his hands yet again. “As your lawful wedded wife?” He fell silent and waited.

“Why? Give me one good reason why I should say yes.”

“Because I’ll kill you if you don’t?”

“I think I’m beyond caring. I have an explosive device in my gut and a laser at my head. This is no way to start a marriage.”

Sola smiled. “Because I love you?”

Javan grinned back. “Try again, my lady.”

Her smile disappeared. “Because if I’m married and pregnant, I can’t be my father’s pawn.”

“So I’m to marry you and impregnate you?”

“Yes.”

“And the dictator will be quite happy with his beloved daughter married and bred to the disreputable captain of a rusty old space freighter?”

She actually laughed. “If he weren’t such an evil old bastard, the humiliation just might kill him. And Javan—” she moved closer and placed her metal weapon under his chin and her mouth at his ear, “—you’ve already impregnated the daughter of the dictator. I’m carrying your child.”

The space station, the galaxy and the universe turned upside down. She might be a liar, a cheat and a vicious opportunist, but she was telling the truth. Something about that proud little smile as she announced her coup de grâce convinced him. He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his mouth for a kiss. “If this child turns out to be Destin Grady’s, I’ll kill you.” He enjoyed her look of astonishment and turned to the padre, who was on his knees, mumbling their names over and over again as if in prayer.

“Rhodes. De la Vega. Grady…”

Javan nudged him with his foot, and the padre looked up with an expression of misery.

“My answer is yes, Padre. Make the pronouncement.”

The padre pronounced them man and wife and announced, “You may kiss the bride,” before throwing them the marital datasphere and bolting out the side door with all possible haste.

Javan turned to his bride. “You know, this was quite unnecessary. You only had to ask.” He swept her into his arms and kissed her resoundingly, enjoying taking her by surprise and the limpid look in her eyes as she returned the kiss.

“Well, you wouldn’t bring me to Valhalla. I had to take drastic measures.”

He kissed her again, and she clung to him. He slid his hand down to her stomach. Her eyes downcast, Sola blushed and covered his hand with her own.

An ominous pounding started at the door behind them.

Javan said, “There is a very good reason why I couldn’t bring you to Valhalla.”

“And that is?”

He pointed toward the vibrating door. “That’s the reason. I’m a wanted man here. Give me one more kiss, Sola.” He grinned, trying to feel more hopeful than he honestly should. “You might find yourself a widow before too long.”

Sola stared, wide-eyed. “I don’t think I’m quite ready for that…husband.” She said the word tentatively, shyly, like she’d wanted to say it before and finally could.

The door disintegrated as four armed men rushed in and trained their weapons on them. As the dust settled, they were followed by a tall, familiar figure made even taller by her platform-heeled boots. Javan sighed and looked from the boots, all the way up the rangy legs and sleek torso, over the magnificent bosom to the ice-blue eyes and long blond mane of Olympia Philou—the reason he should never,
ever
have come back to Valhalla. Instinctively he pushed Sola away.