THE COVENANT
The Starlight Chronicles 2
Annabel Wolfe
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
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The Starlight Chronicles 2
Copyright © 2008 by Annabel Wolfe
E-book ISBN: 1-60601-191-X
First E-book Publication: August 2008
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DEDICATION
To Ms. Morgan. From one dear friend to another.
THE COVENANT
The Starlight Chronicles 2
Annabel Wolfe
Copyright © 2008
Chapter 1
The request to switch to a military frequency was never a good sign.
Larik Armada watched the screen to his left and saw the dots get larger and
align themselves in an unmistakable formation.
The pilot glanced over, his mouth set in a grim line. “I think someone
forgot to mention to me being escorted in by six fighters. They’re directing
us to a lock beam for docking. Last I knew my orders were to deliver a
couple of engineers to help repair an energy station. What the hell is going
on?”
“I don’t know.” Larik frowned and rubbed his jaw, apprehension
crawling up his spine. Rapt One had a reputation as a peaceful colony as far
as he’d been briefed, prosperous and powerful, and his assignment had
sounded simple enough. “I suppose it could be standard but it does seem a
bit excessive.”
“Excessive?” Trey York handled the controls with effortless expertise,
slowing the craft to comply with the signals flashing on the response screen.
“See the glowing red? They’ve armed their weapons.”
“It doesn’t make any sense. They know who we are.”
“Maybe the lieutenant knows something we don’t.”
“I think I’ll go ask.” Larik slid out of his seat and made his way toward
the back of the small craft. He was puzzled by the show of aggression from
a colony that had close ties to Minoa and requested him specifically to deal
with a massive generator that according to the report provided power for
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millions of colonists. The governor had written the authorization himself.
Apparently he feared the actual design was the trouble for the constant
failures, and had asked the Council for an expert outside assessment.
The lieutenant sat in the galley at a small table, a cup at her elbow and
her gaze fastened on a small reading device in her hand. She glanced up as
he entered, her fine brows drawing together as she registered his expression.
“Something wrong, Armada?”
As usual, even with apparently six hostile craft hovering with weapons
pointed, he found it hard not to stare. She wore regulation dress uniform for
their arrival, the fitted tunic and trousers showing off nice curves beneath
the no nonsense style, and her glossy ebony hair pinned into a neat chignon.
Eyes of deep violet framed with lush dark lashes stared at him in question
from an oval face and her soft mouth—a delectable perfect pink color—
parted under his intense regard.
He’d fantasized about her mouth lately, he had to admit. Actually, ever
since he’d met the engineer the military assigned to assist him, he’d had an
erection half the time, especially in the past two weeks since they’d left the
main ship and been on the transport in such close quarters. It was damned
uncomfortable and he would be glad when they didn’t have to spend so
much time together. She treated him with cool, professional indifference so
it didn’t seem like he ever would get to test out his fantasies firsthand and
the frustration wasn’t his idea of fun.
He jerked his attention back to the present. “Any idea why our welcome
to Rapt One is a bit less than friendly? They’re not letting us dock but taking
us in themselves. To make sure we cooperate, they are making quite a
statement.”
Aspen Thorne looked puzzled and shook her head. “No briefing to any
problem came through.”
Even as she spoke the transport lurched and shuddered as the lock beam
caught it. It was a little eerie to hear the pilot kill the thrusters so the small
craft could be drawn in. The lieutenant swore and grabbed her cup as it slid
to the edge of the table, narrowly missing getting the contents in her lap. “I
guess you aren’t kidding about the lock beam. I wonder what’s up.”
His cock, Larik thought in cynical amusement, but some of it wasn’t just
the gorgeous lieutenant but also the journey from Minoa. Abstinence had
some drawbacks and he was more than ready to land on Rapt One and find a
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7
willing female. All planets with military based colonies had a ready supply
and he needed one.
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” he commented as she rose. “I
think we’d better go prepare to dock. We’re supposed to meet with the
governor as soon as we disembark.”
She nodded and followed him back toward the passenger seats,
strapping in next to him. Moments later they were stationary, and before
long the silent swoosh of the doors lifting signaled their arrival.
“Armada, Lieutenant Thorne, do you see what I do?” York stood at the
door nearest the cockpit of the craft, his tall, lean body unnaturally rigid. He
glanced back as they moved forward and his mouth quirked in a mirthless
grin. “Our welcome seems less than enthusiastic.”
Larik peered past him and also stiffened. Three figures stood waiting,
their attire obviously full anti-contamination gear, from the huge helmets
and breathing apparatus to the all-body suits. That was bizarre enough, but
the loaded weapons pointed their way with unmistakable menace made him
wonder just what hell might be going on.
One of them signaled for them to exit the transport. The dark-haired
young pilot muttered, “I don’t know about you two, but all that gear makes
me wonder if it’s a great idea to step outside. What do they not want to be
exposed to that is fine for us?”
“I have no idea but they’re the ones with the weapons and from what
I’ve seen so far, they seem to mean business.” Larik stepped past him and
went down the ramp, slightly lifting his hands in a universal signal of
surrender. Lieutenant Thorne went next, and Trey York followed along.
Their three escorts led them through the first lift gate and down a long
hallway through a door. Each were handed a bundle and pointed in the
direction of a series of what looked like small cubicles.
“They want us to change our clothes?” Aspen Thorne didn’t look too
enthusiastic about the lightweight garments, a simple pullover shirt and
loose fitting pants. “I’m beginning to really want an explanation over all of
this.”
“I’m going to guess by the stance of our not so friendly and not at all
talkative guards here, they aren’t going to give it.” Larik eyed one of the
figures, the man’s face obscured by not just the helmet but the breathing
mask over his mouth and nose. “I can’t really see we have a choice.”
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Annabel Wolfe
Inside the cubicle instructions printed on a small plaque on the wall
stood out. Complying, Larik removed every item of clothing and then
slipped on the simple shirt and pants, leaving everything, including his
boots, in the bin provided.
Lieutenant Thorne emerged last, the tight set of her mouth showing her
displeasure and he could see why at once. The shirt provided left very little
to the imagination, the thin material molding to her full breasts and even
giving a pretty good idea of the dusky color of her nipples.
As he suspected, the lady had very nice tits.
Under his breath, York said, “I always wanted a better look at her set,
but this isn’t quite how I imagined it. The guys with the face masks kind of
take away from the moment.”
Larik stifled a laugh.
One of the guards lifted his weapon, pointing it at her head. Both Larik
and York stepped forward at once in involuntary protective protest and the
other two escorts intercepted them. Shoved back, there was little they could
do.
Lieutenant Thorne went a little pale but lifted her chin and stared at the
threatening soldier. “What?”
“I think he wants you to take down your hair.” Larik realized the
unspoken request with a rush of relief. “Give him the clip. I don’t think
we’re supposed to have anything we arrived with on us.”
“Oh.” She quickly slipped it free and handed it over. Shining dark hair
tumbled over her shoulders and down her back and she looked very different
at once, not the neat military engineer with a business-like manner and cool,
aloof poise, but like a woman with tumbled tresses and that to die for body.
Only he really wasn’t interested in dying, Larik decided, eyeing the
arsenal around him.
Not in the least.
* * * *
A small suite of utilitarian rooms with a main area, several places to sit,
and a functional galley awaited them. At the back, sleeping quarters with
narrow bunks lined up the walls, enough to sleep six individuals, plus an
extra larger bed in the corner. There was also a cleansing room, modern and
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9
sterile. The impersonal feel of it wasn’t exactly heartening and Aspen
Thorne wondered how long they would have to wait around before someone
bothered to explain their less than auspicious introduction to Rapt One.
Larik Armada dropped into a chair, his long legs carelessly extended, a
frown on his face. Like all S-species males, he was very tall and gifted with
an almost extraordinary handsomeness, his features symmetrical and
masculine, his thick blond hair rumpled where he’d run his hand through it..
Vivid sapphire blue eyes reflected his emotions with startling clarity,
including his sometimes less than reverent sense of humor. As a civilian he
tended to take the military rules more as casual guidelines and his lax
attitude toward protocol could be a bit of a problem now and then.
Which was exactly why she was included on this mission. Armada’s
brilliant intellect had no equal and there was nothing he couldn’t do with the
energy station all on his own. Aspen was along for the ride ostensibly to