Andromedas guardian, p.17
Andromeda's Guardian, page 17
“All right then, boys. Let’s get on board and start flying.” Tamarja motioned the brothers back to the cockpit.
The frost of an angry goddess greeted him. Io sat in the jump seat, buckled in and waiting with her arms hanging stiff at her sides.
“Io.”
Not a word from her. Daeven and Tamarja took their seats, ignoring the cold exchange. Tohva squatted down next to her. “I came because I still want to help you.”
“Is that all?”
She wouldn’t look at him.
“No. I still care about you.”
“Is that all?”
He wasn’t getting anywhere, and it would do him no good to have this argument in front of the other two. “For now.” He looked around. “Is there another seat for me?”
Tamarja looked over her shoulder. “Sorry. We only have one. Every speck of space we have on this ship is needed for cargo. There are two cabins on the other side of the door. You can take the one to the left.”
Only two cabins, huh? That presented him with a few possibilities at least. “Okay. Thanks.”
“At least you and I are still the same size.” Daeven commented, reconnecting his restraints. “You can grab some clothes before you settle in. When the next day-cycle begins, we’ll get you armed and ready for infiltration.”
“Sounds good to me.”
How long would Io ignore him? What was the point of being here if her temper was guiding her behavior? How many holos had she watched where the couple reconciled before the end?
Did he want to reconcile? Yes, he did, the sting of abandoning Mayla not bothering him quite as much as he expected.
At least I know where she is. I know she is safe. I’ll keep my promise to return. After that...
What chance did he really have for a relationship with Io? She would outlive him by billions of years. He was nothing more than a unique speck of an experience. No wonder she could just shut off any feelings she might have for him. She could always console herself by talking to her sisters. What did he have?
Daeven, yes, but for how long? Regardless of his love for Daeven, he didn’t want to be alone on a ship surrounded by Daeven’s obvious happiness with Tamarja. If Io found her sister, maybe he could convince them to bring Io back to her own star, that cold, hard, black mass of uselessness. A black dwarf star that she called home and where she would remain for eternity or close enough to it. It might buy him some time to say goodbye if nothing else.
Then he’d return to Dawn’s Landing and try to rebuild his own life. As what though? The Uplifters didn’t exist anymore, and Uhla wouldn’t take him back. How could he even think of returning to Mayla when he had less than when he asked her to marry him? Did he even still want to marry her? Or had she become nothing more than an obsession to give him an excuse to keep trying to find meaning in the violence surrounding him?
Staring into the mirror in the cramped wet room, he tried to untangle his swirling emotions of love, desire, worry, and need, but he failed to find a steady thread to hold onto. At least his brother had a spare set of clothes he could use, an extra flight suit, and a toothbrush. Right now, he’d take those small comforts and make himself at home. The guest cabin didn’t offer much because most of the space was taken up by a bed meant to sleep two people. There was a closet though, so he added Daeven’s clothes there before deciding to lie down for a while.
Io didn’t really need sleep, so he doubted he’d see her until the next day-cycle. If she even bothered to leave the cockpit. Trying to win back her heart would be as painful a journey as rescuing her sister.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Io did her best not to look at Tohva as he left the cockpit, but she could still feel his presence, even after he resolved the door. Which left her with nothing to do except feign interest in wind patterns, vector quantities, and launch pathways discussed by Tamarja and Daeven.
After another minute, Tamarja powered the ship out from under the canopy of the bay. The tinny voice of traffic control echoed inside the cockpit.
“Traffic to Gladiator, we have clearance. Transmitting launch pad location and flight path now.”
Tamarja actually snarled a word that even Io knew was rude, but Daeven placed his hand on her arm and gave her a look that Io couldn’t interpret. Whatever it was that upset her, Daeven’s touch was enough to calm her down. “Gladiator to Traffic. Heading to the launch pad,” she said, drawing out the name of the ship in a sarcastic tone.
As soon as she disconnected, she said something else equally rude. Daeven turned back to Io. “I apologize for the foul language. The ship’s real name is Starcatcher, but we can’t use that name because it’s tied to Tamarja’s family.”
“You’d be putting her family in danger if you used Starcatcher,” Io observed.
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Tamarja steered the ship onto the launch pad. “Hold on tight. I’m feeling aggressive right now.”
Aggressive didn’t even begin to describe the launch. Despite Io’s ability to withstand extreme pressures that would kill a human, the ferocious tug of gravity surprised her as her ship exploded off the pad. None of the flight manuals advised a ship this size to launch at such a steep angle.
As the ship reached the edge of the atmosphere, the dizziness Io had experienced when leaving her home star returned. The entire cockpit spun.
No, no, no, not now. They’ll call Tohva, and I’m not ready for him to be so close to me.
In her panic she reached into her pocket to clutch her diamond while she silently called out to her sister, singing until her sister responded, calming her. Just hearing another Guardian’s voice steadied her nerves. Another sister joined in, then another, and together they all sang of their love for her. The jolt of separation from them hurt so bad.
Ioanna.
The word was so soft and warm, she wanted to curl around that particular song forever—until reality intruded. Her sisters would never call her Ioanna.
Opening her eyes, she saw Tohva squatting down beside her, his arms around her, holding her tight. That’s when she noticed the problem. She’d tugged so hard on the restraints, the safety link broke and the straps snapped. Either Daeven or Tamarja had called Tohva to hold her in place while they finished the launch sequence.
She didn’t want him so close to her. Why did he have to chase after her? All of her hope, love, desire, and disappointment collided into one big ball of frustration that squeezed her heart like a vise. Tohva was here, and there was nothing she could do about it except lean into him.
It took another few minutes for the dizziness to pass. Pulling out of his arms turned her body from the warmth of security to the cold of the ship’s internal atmosphere. For the first time in her life, she realized how much she’d acclimated to the coldness of her dead star. With Tohva staring at her, she wanted to feel his warmth again.
No, she wanted to feel his heat blazing through her and making her sing with her human voice.
Now was not the time for this, so instead of throwing herself back into his arms, she brushed him off like dust. If he wanted to help her, he should have stayed on Dawn’s Landing where he wouldn’t be a distraction. This need to keep him next to her was not her fault, and eventually it would go away. It had to, because she could not spend the rest of her life ricocheting between two worlds.
“Io, let me bring you to one of the cabins. You can lie down and—”
“No. I’m fine. I wasn’t expecting to get dizzy from separating from Dawn’s Landing. I thought that would only happen when I separated from my own star. I know better now, and I can prepare for it next time.”
“Io, please...”
“No, Tohva. I am not human and I do not require sleep.”
“Daeven, controls to you. Tohva’s your co-pilot now.” Tamarja stood smoothly and replaced Tohva by her side. “C’mon, Io. Let me help you while the boys catch up on old times.”
Somehow having Tamarja by her side carried a hint of the bond she shared with her sisters. Not nearly as powerful, but strong enough for her to stand and let the other woman guide her out of the cockpit. As soon as the door separated her from Tohva, she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and leaned even more on the other woman.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Io followed Tamarja when the door to the cabin on the left dissolved. The bed had the outline of where Tohva had lain.
“Space sickness happens to everyone.” Tamarja hit the light node so they wouldn’t stumble around.
“I’m not human. I don’t know if the director’s adjutant told you that.”
“Ramsey told us, and she showed us what happened on the Shadows’ ship.” Directing Io over to the bed, Tamarja carefully sat her down on the edge.
“Lie down if you feel you need to. I’ll be right back.”
Tamarja disappeared into the wet room. The clanking sound of items being shoved around in a drawer hurt Io’s ears, so she decided to stretch out on the bed. That was a mistake because the sheets had that sharp, sweet scent of Tohva’s skin, which woke up her body. The dizziness brushed her consciousness again.
A moment later, Tamarja returned with an injector out of one of the drawers. “Ramsey and I bonded in our own way when I was a puppet on Dawn’s Landing. She’s a good one to have on your side.”
“My sickness is different, it’s like having your essence ripped right out of you and not having the strength to grab it back.”
“But your body operates like a human’s. This might help make sure you don’t get nausea following the dizziness.”
“I never thought of it that way.” Tamarja tried to pull up Io’s sleeve before Io could tug her arm away.
“Wait. Give me a moment.”
Tamarja released her arm and pulled the injectors away. Absorbing the sleeve to her blouse back into her body took more concentration than it should have, but at least now it looked like her skin was exposed. Instead of waiting for Tamarja to overcome her shock at seeing her shift, Io touched the end of the applicator and pulled the medicine inside herself.
“That’s a neat trick. At least you don’t have to worry about wearing my clothing, since you’re a little too short for my outfits.”
Despite her doubts, Io’s vision cleared and her stomach stopped rumbling as soon as the medication spread through her body. “I...I do feel better.
“I think that’s a step in the right direction. You and Tohva can enjoy breakfast together, even if you don’t eat. I’ll keep Daeven occupied to give you two some privacy.”
That wasn’t going to happen if Io could avoid it. “I don’t think that will change anything. I’m not right for him. I’ll outlive him and then I’ll be right back where I started—alone in the core of my star. He’s better off with Mayla.”
“I don’t know who this Mayla is.” Tamarja tossed the used injector into the recycler. “And I don’t know what happened between you and Tohva. But you know what? You keep talking about everything you’re not. Maybe it’s time you started to think of all of the great things you are. Men like Daeven and Tohva don’t just offer to run around Andromeda with any woman. It’s gotta be someone who means more to them than anything else in their world.”
“You know this is how Daeven feels?”
The curls framing Tamarja’s face bounced as she nodded. “In an odd way, Tohva helped bring us together. My father is missing and I’m going to find him. Daeven understands what it means to lose someone to Manitac. Besides which, Daeven never had it as good as he does with me, and I make sure to remind him of that fact every day.”
Her laugh punctuated the pronouncement, which gave Io some hope. If Daeven could love Tamarja with such resolve, then maybe his brother could do the same with Io?
“You can stay in here for as long as you need.” Tamarja headed back toward the door “I’m going to start narrowing down your search parameters for your sister. If we can pinpoint the most likely place Manitac would bring her, we can save you a lot of search time.”
Despite her emotional state, Io found she could smile…a little. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Tamarja waved as the door dissolved.
Io waited for her to leave and resolve the door before flopping onto her side. Tohva’s scent became stronger, which didn’t help, but at least she didn’t feel sick anymore. Singing to her sisters lulled her into a state of drowsiness. They were the one constant she could count on, so why would one of them stop singing if she hadn’t been forced to? She had to believe that her sister left her star for a reason, and Manitac preyed on her inexperience with humans and took advantage of her generosity.
That was where Io had gone wrong in the first place, no matter what Ramsey said about responsibility. Watching humans, emulating them, was not the same as direct communication, and spoken words were so limiting sometimes. Watching the holos on the Hurricane taught her that humans communicated more easily with their bodies to accentuate words and phrases.
She didn’t want to think about this anymore, so she turned on the holo screen cramped into the corner closest to the bed. Flipping through the viewing options, she found a list of Ioanna Ryder’s holos. Though she’d seen them many times while she was on board the Hurricane, it had still been several years since she watched them.
The first one projected into the air. She remembered A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Phallaxy. Even though Io knew the story, she still enjoyed the antics of the princess as she finds herself shipwrecked on a strange planet, only to discover the only way she can get home is to hitchhike. None of the perfectly sculpted pilots will take her on as a passenger for free, and since she has no credits, she has to have sex with them to get home.
The first pilot makes the princess stroke herself over and over while he watches. Waiting until she’s almost ready to climax, the pilot jerks her hand away from between her legs and holds both arms over her head. Denied her pleasure, the princess begs the pilot to use his own fingers to bring her to climax. She arches her back to grind herself against him until he can’t wait any longer. Instead of his fingers, the pilot pushes himself inside her and creates a powerful rhythm that gives them both satisfaction. The strength of their orgasms, however, starts an earthquake, forcing the male to launch the ship while still naked before they are buried in the ice.
On the next planet, the princess hires another pilot only to discover his ship has no power. To generate energy, the princess offers to impale herself on one of the oiled pistons. The pilot accepts her offer and ties her hands to an air circulation pipe over her head to keep her in place. Tentative at first, the princess slowly thrusts herself up and down the slick piston using her feet, but the pilot keeps yelling at her to go faster as the ship’s engines start to roar. The quicker she thrusts, the more steam is generated to power the ship. Of course, the princess absolutely must not orgasm before the ship reaches its next destination or it will stop dead in space. With only the might of her internal strength to fight off her climax, she displays her struggle by biting her lips, tugging on the tight ropes around her wrists, throwing her head back, and moaning in time to her body’s staccato rhythm. No matter how hard she tries, the desperation to fight the friction rubbing her sensitive areas grows, until she loses the battle and her body shudders in waves as she cries out just as the ship lands safely.
What the princess doesn’t realize until it’s too late is the third pilot she hired isn’t human at all, but a tentacled alien who is exploring the galaxy and has never met a human female before. Caught up in two of its arms, the princess finds herself bound tightly in preparation for a scintillating game the alien calls S&M. Struggling only makes the alien’s arms tighter, forcing her to keep her legs clamped together and her back pressed against the rough skin of the alien’s belly. Helpless in its grip, but deliciously aroused, the princess delights in the alien being free to use its other two arms to explore her body.
The tips of its tentacles are soft instead of rough like the skin. They follow a path down her legs, finding the exposed soles of her feet, tickling her into a laughing fit. No matter how hard she tries to bend over to push the tentacles away, she can’t quite reach, leaving only her voice to beg the alien to stop. Tired of her feet, the arms explore the front of her body. The tips curl to evade her attempts to stop their intrusive probing until they slip over her breasts. The small suckers pinch and tug at her soft nipples until they harden while the princess squirms against the first hint of pleasure.
Her squirming is in vain, as the two tentacles abandon her breasts to grip her wrists and shove them behind her back. A sticky substance oozes around her hands, holding them in place, arching her body outward. This new position forces her knees to spread oh-so-slightly, but enough for the tip of one of the alien’s arms to pry in between her thighs, finding wetness and heat to begin a slow tease.
While that tip generates no more than maddening friction, the other tickles her without mercy from her hips to her armpits, up and down and back again. The intensity of the alien’s sweet torture finally forces it to release her legs so she can spread them, giving it access to more overly stimulated flesh. Finally slipping inside, the alien stops tickling her, turning her laughter to moans. Instead of speeding up, though, the alien slows its rhythm, holding the princess in an endless limbo of need until she screams that she can stand no more and will die if the alien doesn’t let her orgasm. The creature relents, bringing one of its arms back to her breasts to rub them in time with its increasing pace between her legs until the princess, red and sweating, achieves not one, not two, but three rolling orgasms as her legs press together to keep the tentacle inside her.
Punching the pillow to better cradle her head, Io clamped her own legs together to stop the heat from rising. Watching these holos wasn’t a good idea. She wanted to experience everything the actress had and more. Much more, but only with Tohva, and right now she was still angry with him for kissing Mayla.
