War Games - Part 8
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Part 8

Lith's breath stopped in her throat. Her face flamed.

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 gla.s.ses 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 gla.s.s, 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 gla.s.s 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 encompa.s.sing. 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 unb.u.t.toned 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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 hoa.r.s.ely. "I want to f.u.c.k 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 a.s.signment 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 embarra.s.sed by how easily she had succ.u.mbed 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 s.e.x.

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 l.u.s.t. 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 pa.s.sion. 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 pa.s.sions 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 heteros.e.xually-oriented society. While Fusion-born Laisen knew of other s.e.xualities 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 s.e.xualities. 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 n.o.body 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 att.i.tudes 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 circ.u.mspect 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 pa.s.sion 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-s.e.x 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. s.e.xual 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 pa.s.sion. 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.