Taken (Calliston Series - Book 1) (2 page)

"You know, that stuff that is supposed to happen before you settle down with someone and pop out babies," Axim explained.

"You mean to mate?"

"You could call it that I suppose," Axim said, and smiled. "I prefer to practice mating. I get off shift in ten minutes, you want to practice with me?"

S'rea glanced down at the hand Axim had placed on her arm.

"I won't tell if you don't," he said, and closed the gap between them.

The next sound that came from Axim was a crunching noise as the bones in the Duarr's hand were crushed. Axim screamed and dropped to the floor with a loud thud when S'rea let go. She brought her foot back to inflict more damage, but decided to be lenient. It seemed that the Duarr had weaker bones than Lyrissians, and Axim had indeed stopped his unwanted advances. She had no intention of birthing twins.

S'rea looked up to find a handful of men, in a similar uniform to Axim, had surrounded her. She wondered what they wanted, but it became fairly obvious that they were unhappy with what had just happened when they lifted their blasters and pointed them at her.

* * *

Viktor smiled at the Lyrissian representative. For a man whose daughter had just spent time in the brig of a Space Corps vessel, he didn't seem too upset. Of course, for all he knew this was a regular occurrence for this family. He sighed and told himself that wasn't fair. What had probably happened was something similar to their first meeting that had resulted in weapons being raised.

Tarn said something to him. Without S'rea there to translate for him, though, Viktor was only able to make out a few words. Something about an attempt at mating, which had his eyebrows raised.

"The Duarr species tend to be amorous," Viktor tried to explain. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding."

Tarn clapped his hand on Viktor's shoulder and grunted. Viktor wasn't sure, but that might have meant "no hard feelings."
Strange people,
Viktor told himself. For Tarn's benefit, he smiled again.

"Eat," said Tarn in Common.

Viktor laughed. "Yes," he said. "Let's eat."

* * *

S'rea joined the dinner before the main meal was served. She seated herself beside her father. Nothing was said about the incident—it did not need to be. The quiet, which had descended over the room when she had first entered, ceased.

S'rea watched as the U-man attempted to carry on a conversation between the commanding officer of the vessel and her father. She was surprised to find that his Lyrissian had improved in the space of just a day. What surprised her more was her father's occasional use of words in Common. Not many, just a word here and another there. She wondered if perhaps these talks had a chance. That was until dinner was served.

Plates of raw meat were laid in front of the Lyrissians. The U-mans, however, had leafy foods and charred flesh on theirs. Both sides eyed each other. The differences between them were easily spelled out by their meals.

Viktor was obviously coming to the same conclusion. "Hey, I didn't order this," he told the server. S'rea looked at his plate to find the same food that the rest of the U-mans had on it. "I like my steak raw. Fresh off the cow. Dripping."

The server looked to his commanding officer for orders. The older U-man nodded and pushed his own plate away. Soon everyone at the table was eating the same food. Rather, the U-mans attempted to.

"You're not eating," Viktor said to S'rea.

S'rea looked to her own plate and shrugged. "I am what you call vegetarian," she said.

"You could have told me," he said, and waved the server back over. He wiped blood from his chin and instructed the server to bring all of the leafy foods back for S'rea.

Her father gave her a look that she ignored. She knew that look and she didn't like it. How could he even think that?

The meal continued without a hitch. Both S'rea and Viktor acted as translators in several conversations until it was time for both sides to say good night.

* * *

Viktor accompanied S'rea and her father back to their quarters. He had a few questions that would need answering—mainly what had happened with the Duarr. Tarn made himself scarce, leaving Viktor alone with S'rea and an unnamed Lyrissian who remained in the corner of her room.

Viktor frowned. How could he carry out a private conversation with that Lyrissian listening in? He decided to deal with the third wheel, while S'rea poured them drinks. "Could you give us some privacy, please?" he asked in Lyrissian. The guard, for want of a better word, nodded and left them.

"You should not have done that," she told him as she handed him a drink.

"Why not?" he asked, and took a sip.

"Because my father will believe you intend to mate with me."

Viktor choked on his drink. "What?" he spluttered, and turned back to the door, expecting to see an enraged Lyrissian storm through it at any moment.

"A male dismisses the female's escort if he intends them to be alone and attempt mating," she explained calmly.

"That's not why I asked him to leave," said Viktor. "Maybe I should go. I don't want to have to deal with your father—not like this."

"He will not be coming," she said. "He knows that I am capable of making my own decisions, especially when it comes to accepting a mate."

Viktor sank into a nearby chair and took a gulp of his drink. "Is that what happened with the Duarr?"
 

S'rea inclined her head, and he took that to mean it did.

"So it was a misunderstanding," he said with relief.

"I do not understand," she said. "The Duarr attempted to mate with me and I rejected him. What is there to misunderstand?"

"The Duarr didn't want to mate with you," Viktor said. "Well, at least not in the way you mean."

"Still I do not understand."

Viktor ran a hand through his hair and tried to organize this thoughts. "The Duarr have short-term, intimate relations with many people. They do not mate for the long haul."

The look in her eyes told him that she still didn't know what he meant, and he wondered exactly how relationships worked for Lyrissians. "Explain mating to me," he said.

S'rea sat across from him. "Males seek out a female that will be of best use to them. They initiate mating, and if the female accepts them, they are mated for life. If not, the male is fought off until they get it into their thick skulls that they have been rejected."

Viktor raised an eyebrow. It would seem S'rea was very much against the idea of mating.

"How do you mate?" she asked.

"Well, some do it like that, although without the violence," he told her. "Others do not mate for life. They might mate with several partners. Some do both."

S'rea appeared to be mulling over that information. "What do you do?"

Viktor frowned. He wasn't sure if this was something he should be discussing with the daughter of the Lyrissian representative who currently thought he was mating with said daughter. The earnest look she gave him made him answer honestly. "I prefer to mate for love."

"That is the second time I have heard that word," she said. "What does this
love
mean?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you?" he said, and sighed. He dropped his formal tone in order to better explain the term. "Love is a lot of things. To me, it's when you wake up thinking of the same person and go to sleep thinking of them as well. When you can't think of anyone else in between. Love is laughter, respect, smiles and warmth. You feel it here." He tapped his chest. "It makes you want to be a better person. It's beautiful."

"That is not why Lyrissians mate," S'rea said.

"Oh?" said Viktor. He wondered why she looked at him so strangely through the slits in her veil.

"No," she said. "It is for the strength and intelligence of the offspring and for the social standing of the male and female."

"Is that why you won't mate?"
 

S'rea inclined her head again, which, he was fast learning, meant yes. "I also do not wish to give up my profession."

"A lot of men and women remain in their profession when they have children. Perhaps you could do the same."

S'rea's eyes widened at the thought. "So you would let me keep my profession?" she asked.

"I don't have a say in the matter," he said. "You are the one who gets to decide what you want to do with your life."

Viktor gave her time to think that over, and hoped he hadn't given her father a new headache. Hopefully, if she did decide to strike out on her own, she would have the sense to wait until after these talks had concluded and the ink was dry. He took another sip of his drink and waited.

"Then I would like to accept your offer to mate."

This time Viktor spat his drink out his nose. "What? I didn't offer anything," he said.

"You dismissed my guard, you said you mate for love and you would let me decide my own life," she recounted.

"That's not what I meant."

"You do not love me?" she asked.

"No!"

S'rea growled and Viktor realized he hadn't answered her as tactfully as he should have.

"I mean I don't know you. This is all a misunderstanding. I'm sure you're a lovely girl," he said. "But I do not wish to mate with anyone. You of all people should understand that."

S'rea slowly lowered her fist. "I do," she said quietly, and turned away.

Viktor breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't wish to end up like the Duarr had. That would not have gone well for the peace talks. His heart did go out to S'rea. She had probably seen this as a way to escape her life for the everyday freedom that he and everyone else in the aligned races shared. "I'm sorry," he said tentatively.

"My father will be waiting outside," she said over her shoulder.

"Oh dear," said Viktor. He had forgotten about that. "How should I deal with that?"

S'rea turned back to face him. "In order for everyone to save face, I will have to reject you."

Viktor gulped. "I was afraid you were going to say that. Okay, get it over with."

* * *

S'rea watched the U-man limp out of her room, past her father and out into the corridor.

Her father sadly shook his head before he returned to his own room.

She had disappointed him again.

* * *

Viktor looked up from his scotch to see who had decided to join him at the bar. It was the commanding officer of the ship. His friend. "Roger," he said to the older man.

"Ooh, that looks painful," the colonel told him.

"It is," Viktor said, and took a slug of alcohol.

"And so what have we learned?" Roger asked as he gestured to the bartender to get him the same.

"Not to be alone with Lyrissian women."

Roger chuckled. "They must have sharp nails," he said, referring to the slashes Viktor now sported across his cheek.

"Like claws," said Viktor. "Mean kick too."

"Should I ask where?"

"No, you should not," Viktor said, and shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

"Ah," was all Roger had to say about that.

"Don't start with me, Roger."

"I didn't say anything. But you're the one who wanted a challenge after whatshername."

Viktor had indeed wanted a challenge, and being involved in an effort to end a war had very much appealed to him. "You can say her name, Roger. Cynthia is no longer in the picture," said Viktor.

Roger threw back his own drink and winced. "She screwed us both over, Vik. Last I heard she was sleeping with a general."

"Well how else is she going to make colonel?" Viktor spat. The bartender glared at him but he ignored it. "Not as if she can earn it on her own."

"You need to stop drinking now," Roger told him. "You're starting to sound bitter."

"Well, I am. She used us both to get what she wanted. She elevated her social standing. Damn," he said when he realized how much that sounded like a reason for Lyrissian mating. "Guess we're not so different after all."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," Viktor said, and finished his drink. "I'm gonna go sleep this off."

Roger put his hand on Viktor's arm, stopping him. "Before you go, I've had word from Corps Command that there's a potential threat to these talks. I'll be increasing security. I just wanted you to know."

"What kind of a threat?" Viktor asked warily.

Roger tilted his head and mouthed,
Assassination
.

"Shit."

* * *

S'rea could hear her father talking with someone on the other side of her door. She tilted her head and listened. He was doing his best to be polite, which meant he was talking with someone he did not like. Since the party that had accompanied him had been handpicked and loyal, she decided he must be talking via long-range communication.

She tentatively shuffled closer so the door would not detect her movement and open. Her excellent hearing meant she was able to follow both sides of the conversation.

"Karo," she hissed. There was no one S'rea detested more in the universe. Karo was the other peacetalker, the one who had been dispatched to negotiate with the Orka. By the sounds of things, he was currently gloating.

"Yes, the Orka have been very generous so far, Tarn," said Karo. "Once I explained to them just how much a union between our two systems would mean to them, they were happy to accept several of the king's preferred offers."

Her father's response was calm and measured. "I would be more wary if I were you, Karo," he said. "They are historically a treacherous people. I would not trust them even after an agreement was signed and sealed."

"You worry too much, old man. Their circumstances are not as good as our intelligence claims."

"Perhaps, but it is what has kept me alive," Tarn said.

S'rea heard Karo laugh at her father. She clenched her fists and itched to do damage to his arrogant face.

"Tarn, we all know your lovely mate and her political connections have kept you alive," said Karo. "Speaking of females, the Orka leader offered me his most beautiful daughter. Ugly as a U-man, though, and I politely declined. I told her that there was only one female I intended to mate with. One that will secure my rightful position in the government. After you've retired, of course."