Brides of War

The wind blew hollowly about me. Everything that I saw before me was as I had never dreamt of seeing it.

The capital city of my nation of Lothanel lay charred to ashes to the point of being unrecognizable.

The high-rises, the business warehouses, the expansive markets, and the homes of several million people were all gone.

Not a breath of life remained. Not in the above portions of the city or even in the labyrinth of emergency fallout tunnels that lay below it.

The directed energy weapons of Cherion Prime had compromised everything and as a whole the city had melted.

In one vast flaming puddle it had settled out over the plains of Lothanel even as the underground chambers had collapsed in as the ground above turned molten.

There had been little warning of the attack and none originating from the enemy. Every major Lothanian city had been attacked simultaneously.

By all indications the attack had been perpetrated by the use of our own ground-based satellite arrays. In other words, our own weapons of defense had been turned upon us.

How had the enemy managed such a feat of overcoming the many security protocols that had been put in place to avoid just such an outcome?

The answer may never be known.

There had been traitors to be sure, but who would’ve guessed anyone to be so culpable as to participate in the annihilation of an entire people. It had taken less than 12 hours to reduce a nation of 193 million people down to a pathetic few.

Over the past three days I and my crew had flown over and scanned the entire landmass of Lothanel both above and below the surface. Not one soul had been found living.

No animals or even plant life of any kind had survived. The small continent that played host to only one nation was a charred and entirely unrecognizable vista of utter destruction.

Its cities lay melted, its topsoil burned away, and its people turned to ash floating about on the breeze.

We had tried every channel of communication, but all to no avail.

No other flight cruiser had survived save for the, Ark of Wanel and that was for good reason. The Ark of Wanel was the newest ship of the air fleet and the first of its kind anywhere.

It’s technology so top-secret that even I didn’t know the answers to many of its capabilities in terms of how they actually functioned to provoke the result that they did. The ship’s entire construction had been compartmentalized with competing research teams kept secreted away from each other.

The resulting design had been revolutionary. Its overall capability truly a game changer, but now in some ways it lay as the tombstone for my people’s legacy.

The Ark of Wanel with its many advancements represented an unparalleled threat to all the nations of Zalthagor. It had to have been this that had preempted them to strike.

They had destroyed everything except what they feared the most.

The vivid memory of being in the control room as screens blazed alive as they were activated by both heads of state and military assets across the nation assailed me all over again as if I was reliving the moment.

The panicked voices and tears of ruling civilians begging for assistance, the grim expressions of top military commanders as they relayed the stark reality that the country’s mainframe had been irreversibly hijacked, to the shouted orders of the president to come pick him up immediately.

All of them had gone off at once as all the screens had flashed vibrantly bright with the first onslaught of the energy weapon assault. At the same time the Arc of Wanel had been hit with temperature extremes up to 3000°, even so the revolutionary design of the ships shielding had held the heat at bay from causing any serious damage.

In the immediate aftermath of the burn, however we had almost crashed out of the air because of the sudden void of oxygen depleted all about the hull by the flash fire event. We had stabilized flight before impact with the ground, but in the days to come we had been left with the vision of what I now gazed upon first-hand.

This was the first time in three days that we had even dared to land on the surface of the continent that had been rendered semi-molten.

Staring down at the hard clay that was left, which almost seemed brick like, I wondered if there was even one seed in the entirety of Lothanel that had survived the complete environmental onslaught that had occurred to the land.

Even as the very soil had been consumed so had an entire nation. Lothanel would never be a nation again, at least not here.

Our enemies had finally won in their eon war against us. The reality of such utter defeat was so crushing as to almost be like the effect of someone choking the life out of you.

“Sir? Sir? Please, Sir?”

Blinking away tears I looked up from the ground. I recognized my communications officer, Edmund Farland.

I wiped at my face as I realized acutely that I had been crying.

Edmund’s eyes were little different, even as the crew as a whole had been one ship full of mourning as we had all gazed upon the reality that everything we had ever known and everyone we had ever known were all gone.

How we had stayed functional enough to even perform our duties was a wonder. That said this was no run-of-the-mill crew.

Each member down to even seemingly the least level of importance had been hand-picked for the job. In many ways I felt outclassed to even have the command over the ship let alone the human talent that guided it.

It was still a mystery to me as to why I had been chosen to be the commander. I was one of the youngest flag commanders in the entire fleet, with many able commanders with years of experience I could not boast of seemingly being passed over for a wildcard like me.

The explanation I had been given was that the Ark of Wanel was a new idea and thus it called for an unconventional minded commander that had the ability to both adapt and learn new ways of reasoning versus a more senior advanced commander intent on doing things the way they had always been done.

Coming to full attention I said, “What is it Edmund?”

“The envoys of several nations are on the video com line, Sir. They want to speak to the person in charge of Lothanel.”

I stared at Edmund for a long moment as reality slowly sunk in. I was the leader of this ship that carried 471 souls.

The reality was much broader than this though. Insomuch as I was the leader of this ship I was also the leader of all that was left of Lothanel and right now I was staring at one of the few remaining citizens of it in the face.

Coming unglued I made for the open hatchway. Within five minutes I stood within the control room and became visible to the heads of state of seven nations of the nine that held sway on the bigger continent of Zalthagor.

They all started speaking at once, but quickly stopped and with some degree of separation from each other began to speak legibly, “Have you found survivors?”

“Our sources tell us of massive losses, is it true?”

“The Cherions have been held to account for this!”

I seized upon the last speaker and spoke for the first time, “They’ve been held to account? Would you care to explain that?”

The Prime Minister of Vercha stammered and looking most uncomfortable he said, “What I meant to say is that steps have been taken to punish them for such an obscene breach in ecological and of course humanitarian protocol.”

“Punish them? Exactly how are you punishing them?”

All seven dignitaries fidgeted and on their faces I saw only two of them form the beginning of what I took to be tears. I made special note of that even as I stared around at all seven of them.

Pointing my finger to include all of them, I said, “This should never have happened. The Cherions couldn’t pull this off alone and in this I promise you, I will not rest in terms of searching out who it was of you that helped them carry out this abomination of destruction.”

“Your anger is understandable Capt. Morgan Lee, I believe that’s your name, anyway you must not do anything rash. Think for the sake of your people, I mean the people on board that is. What’s best for them right now?”

“Revenge.” I said without a moment’s hesitation.

Immediately there was an uproar of voices as they all sought to tell me how foolish it was to attack the Cherions.

“You have but one ship.” One of them said.

“What makes you think I need more than one ship other than the one I command to decimate the entirety of Cherion Prime?”

Silence greeted my rebuttal of one head of state and then the moment was broken as they all began squabbling once more among themselves.

Finally, one voice rose above the others and it was Vincent Darcy, Prime Minister of Salano, the largest of all the primary continent nations and the most powerful. “We simply cannot tolerate you using the advancements of your people to wipe out another no matter how wrongful their actions were towards your own people. The reality is this; your people are no more. You and the scattered few Lothanians left abroad at your embassies and so forth account for nothing more than a rather small class of refugee status. I hate to be so blunt, but there it is and as it is the case you have no business in maintaining control over a ship such as you have. Its extreme abilities make you a rather dangerous force even as I discern that you are of a reckless nature and not at all a seasoned officer befitting the posting for such an appointment. If you could but put your grief aside for a moment I think it would become very clear to you that the most logical course of action going forward for the safety of all nations is for the Ark of Wanel to be handed over to a multinational pointed committee that would oversee the decoding of the ships technologies so that all the nations could share in the advancements harnessed within it and in so doing a balance of power could be restored. Face it, your people’s desire for independence and isolationism lays as a primary fault for their demise as much as anything else. I’m not condoning the actions of the Cherions, but it is understandable how they came to the conclusion that a first preemptive strike was warranted.”

Strangely, I felt myself apart from the rage that should be manifesting at hearing such a heartless diatribe of filth laden statements meant to demean and disarm me. Maybe it was the new pressure of being the leader of my land or more aptly maybe it was just the grace of my God helping me in a moment that He knew was simply just too much for me to handle.

Even though I was maintaining a calmness of reserve many of my crew were not. Their voices of descent threatened to rise to a higher level, but I lifted my hand and the sound of their barely repressed wrath went silent once more within the control room.

Refocusing on the seven dignitaries I looked at each of them in turn as they discussed among themselves the proposition put forward by the leading nation of the continent. Three were in agreement with the Prime Minister.

One was asking for the caveat that the two nations not in the video-conference, primarily the Cherions, not be allowed to take part in the exchange of technology. Only one nation, the Velokian Confederation was speaking out against the entire matter as it was being put forward.

Their Prime Minister, Eugene Koraven, was doing her best as she spoke hotly in rebuttal to such a plan, but she was being boisterously talked over by the others and like a smug cat that had gotten exactly what he wanted the Prime Minister of Salona sat back in his chair content to let the others do his work for him. Unwittingly he had tipped his hand.

Now I knew with some certainty who it was that had aided the totalitarian minded Cherions. The Cherions, as a people did not possess the technical expertise to infiltrate our servers and hijack our system from the inside as it had been done.

Not only did they not have the expertise they did not have the kind of monetary capital and patience that it would’ve taken to bribe and recruit a fifth column within our governments’ hierarchal system of control. The Solanians were an entirely different matter though.

Glancing from the screens of angry yelling heads of state I took in my exec officer Thomas Walton, his gaze was already rooted expectantly on me. Speaking clearly I said, “Do you have the tactical protocol, Muddy Vision, ready to be activated?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Please subtract all Velokian interests from the parameters of the algorithms range of scope and then proceed with the deployment.”

“Aye, aye Captain.”

All the heated discussion upon the screens of faraway places stuttered and came to a halt.

Suspiciously the Prime Minister of Solano asked, “Tactical protocol? By the……”

“The solution has been revised, Sir.”

Ignoring the pagan Prime Minister’s expletive filled threats of violence I calmly enacted the tactical protocol with a single word, “Deploy it.”

The supercomputers within the Ark of Wanel whirled into action in an unseen frenzy that if heard should surely have screamed past the abilities of the materials they were constructed of and yet the room remained silent as utter financial chaos was instigated. Ashen faced all the dignitaries looked about as each was being informed of an unimaginable financial meltdown of every nation’s economy save for the Velokian held interests.

In fact their country’s net worth was soaring as traders dumped other stocks to invest in the one nation that was not experiencing a complete meltdown of their financial sector.

I spoke and a stated hush fell over all the com lines, “As the commander of the Ark of Wanel I do solemnly promise all the nations of Zalthagor that even as we may be but a few, we are all chosen for the task we are now employed in by people that though they may no longer exist nonetheless live on in our hearts forever and we will never let them down. We will not rest until those who have done this evil are brought to justice. We most definitely will not surrender this ship to anyone. Our land may be burnt away and though Lothanel, as each of us knew it to be, will never be again, a future for our people that do remain alive will be my first priority above all else. Hunt for us, all you wish, but know this. One day it will be us and if not us, then it will be our children, which come to hunt any and all that oppose us or that played a part in this tragedy. This you have my word on as the acting commander of this ship and all that remains of the people of Lothanel.”

Before any of the talking figureheads could speak, I manually signed off all the screens and with precision not even requiring a given order silent running mode was enacted even as radar lock-ones from dozens of onrushing foreign nation ships were shed off of us like an old snake skin.

The Ark of Wanel was by no means a small ship, but to all the world right now she became invisible.

Like angry hornets they searched about for us as we quietly cruised past all of their radar traps. The ease by which I could bring destruction upon them was unfathomable and yet as great as the ship’s capabilities were I was not going to be able to engage and destroy every objective at once.

To begin such an engagement would temporarily reveal our location and that was something at the moment that I simply couldn’t risk. All that remained of Lothanel for the most part was housed within this ship’s hull.

I had the resources at my disposal to decimate any of the nine nations of the supercontinent, but not all of them at once and even so, was such an action even justifiable?

Did I have the right to end another people simply because my own land had been wiped free of the map?

Were all the people of a nation guilty for the actions of their leadership?

If I killed everyone within a nation was I any better than the monsters who had destroyed us?

Not only did our people need to survive, but perhaps more importantly so did the soul. Without a soul what purpose was there for us even going on as a people?

We had little left to us, but if we departed without the most sacred aspect of our mortal selves we might as well not even exist. The answers to these realities were clear to me, but the driving urge for bitterly enacted revenge was almost overpowering all my nobler emotions of the moment.

“You mean to leave Sir? Leave the known world?”

I glanced to my exec officer to see him and many of the others in the control operations room staring at me.

Glancing about I stated to the room as a whole, “I want revenge. I hunger for blood just like the rest of you do. I hate those that did this to us, but…… to strike out blindly - to potentially kill the innocent - it is simply not the way of our people. Those who have attacked us are now hiding, but if we leave, if we let time work for us they will once more come out of hiding and indeed they will even brag about what they have done. We will know who they are and how best to exact revenge, but in order to have that future moment of justice for our people we have to disappear for a time. We are all that is left of our people and even so it befalls upon us to do our part to preserve our heritage. Cruelty is not our way, it’s theirs. This ship was not built to destroy nations. It was built to deter them from destroying us, but now it represents our people’s last hope for continued existence. Perhaps many will call leaving the field of battle as I am doing an act of cowardice, but in doing so, we are but being who our Creator made us to be, even as we reject being in like order to the monsters who think they have finished us off as a people. Only we can choose to do that, but as long as there is one of us left to do the right thing, then our people continue to be all that they have ever most nobly been. To do the right thing now is to recognize that logically we are greatly outnumbered and thus we should hide, but hide with a purpose. We are few, but somehow we must become many. We have no land or friend to harbor us and yet we need a haven, so yes, we are leaving and thanks to our ship’s creators we have perhaps the only ship capable of passing through the magnetic northerly Isles, which is where I have punched in our coordinates. We may well plummet from the sky like so many other explorers of the past or perhaps we will discover a haven unreachable by any other nation. I do not know. The road ahead of us is filled with uncertainty, but decisive action must be taken no matter how bitter the pill is. I am asking all of you to make the hard choice and respond to what I see as being the only way forward for our nation to remain a nation and have the opportunity of a future of one day wrecking a retribution that will be definitive in its outcomes and yet not monstrous in its realities of achieving justice. What say you the people of Lothanel? Are you with me or do I speak to hearts closed off by the unheard screams of grief that cry out only for revenge?”

The response I received was deafening for it was not only those within the control operations room, but it was the ship as a whole as someone had engaged the intercom system and my words had carried throughout the ship. In unified action the crew both saluted me and cried out a military cry of response.

They like me wished to remain a people. A people on the edge of perhaps both existence and sanity, but a people that had a chance to recover and upon doing so wreck a terrible vengeance upon our enemies without being like our enemies in terms of soullessness.

I lifted a hand to accept the praise being offered and though such a display, embarrassed me, inwardly I recognized the reality that my people needed a leader and right now I was it. Engaging all super drives the Ark of Wanel sped forward invisibly across the terrain of nations suddenly sprung into financial turmoil.

A telecommunication beacon appeared and with surprise many called out as they recognized it as such. The noisy display of loyalty to the cause of survival that lay ahead of us fell silent ship wide as word traveled fast that a Lothanian beacon had flared up.

It was coming from an underground spy post located in a mountainous area in Cherion Prime. I personally knew nothing of such an outpost’s existence in enemy territory. Many of my crew were also clueless upon the matter.

Finally, one of the tech scientists that had played a large part in the creation of certain sections of the ship stepped forward to authenticate the beacon.

Staring at the flashing distress beacon on the screen I said, “Ranis what is it that you know of this base?”

Looking nervous he said, “I’ve been there. It’s a really hush-hush facility. I know its placement seems odd, but oddly it’s also safe because of it. My research group was based out of it for several months. I thought it was shut down after we left though. I have no idea who might still be there to put out such a secure encrypted beacon such as this.”

I contemplated Ranis thoughtfully. His team had been focused primarily on the stealth functions of the Ark of Wanel.

The beacon could well be a trap, but there was a chance it might not be. The primary concern though was what if the stealth technology of this ship was housed on servers within the facility?

If the technology that was all that was hiding us from the world fell into enemy hands the end of us would come quickly.

The facility had to be destroyed.

“Alter course and bring us in a new heading toward the outpost. We will go investigate this beacon.”

Nervously the crew did as ordered. We were all wary of a trap and yet we were all anxious in the hopes that there may be more of our countrymen yet alive.

The miles flew by and within three hours we hovered over the top of the facility of which nothing could be seen from the surface.

How had it even been built?

What secrets did it contain?

They were all questions I soon intended to have answers to.

“We have a secure lock-on to the facilities ladder shaft and they have responded with the correct protocol of authentication. The initializing certificate had an alpha level rating, Sir.”

I stared hard at the tech giving me the logistics of what amounted to a very uncertain situation. An alpha level clearance was rare.

I didn’t have one and yet I was the captain of the most prized technological advancement in all of the lands combined.

It was rumored that not even the president of Lothanel had qualified for such an appointment in security clearance as he was an elected official, and therefore only a temporary intermediary official.

The darker implications of what I could soon be faced with in terms of the deeper workings of one’s own government were like tangible threads of tension vibrating across the realms of my mind.

Turning from the man I addressed the Executive Officer, “You have command of the ship. If anything goes haywire you destroy the facility and get this ship out of here at all costs.”

“Sir! You’re not going down there surely? I mean…. we don’t know what this could be.”

“Exactly and that’s why I need to go. You have command of the ship.”

Without another word I strode from the room. I stepped into a transport shell and almost instantly I was delivered to the demarcation bay.

The members of the scout team standing at the ready within the ladder rings blinked repetitively as I advanced to stand with them within the transport ring circle.

Speaking I said, “The scout team and I are in position. Take us down.”

After a momentary hesitation the rings engaged and time became a blur as what felt like the pit of my stomach fell beyond the borders of my body. Down we went in a blur of light.

Suddenly the ladder rings stopped to then disappear and I and the others were left standing in a scene of utter chaos. The main lighting of the underground facility was down and backup emergency lighting blazed forth in odd off-color flashing hues of red and yellow as blown apart circuitry boards sprayed down showers of sparks from the ceiling and from off sidewall panel displays.

The heavy stench of burned-out wires, along with the telltale odors of gunsmoke and organic based decay echoed heavily to the fact that a war had taken place within this facility.

The scout team defensively formed about me as every gun was trained at the ready to render anything that moved to be made lifeless.

We had no specs of the place, but the way forward seemed obvious enough and I made for it with my sidearm weapon drawn and held at the ready. The chances of this being a trap seemed less than what it would’ve been if we’d been met by happy smiling people.

Someone had put up quite a fight down here. Bodies of mostly technicians lay all about.

Some looked like they’d been mowed down in place, while others held guns that seemed out of place with their white lab coats.

No evidence of a foreign invading force could be seen.

What had happened here had been an internal affair. None of the scouting party spoke, but as sweat made its way down each of us in ode to the tension we were all under we made our way forward through the darkened emergency lit corridors.

Nothing moved. The smell of death was heavy in the air along with all the other smells of war.

A control room was up ahead. There were a lot more bodies - mostly lab technicians.

It looked like they had been laying down a desperate assault to gain entry into the inner sanctums of the control room and suddenly I knew. This off grid facility hidden within the borders of an enemy nation had been the location from where the computer hack had occurred that had taken out the entire infrastructure of Lothanel.

The fallen bullet riddled people lying about had been heroes trying to stop the annihilation of our people. They hadn’t made it though.

Security guards joined the ranks of the fallen as we approached and it became obvious that they had been in opposition to that of the technicians and scientists so desperate to seize back control of the facility.

The emotional fervor of their desperation to reclaim control of the facility was still morbidly frozen upon their faces even in death.

Gun held high I stepped into the control room. More dead bodies, but no visible breathing threats.

Cautiously we stepped over the bodies that lay everywhere with our guns held at the ready as we all breathed hard as if in a race. Something turned odd then as the turncoat guardsmen fallen about the place seemed to be done away with in an oddly clean fashion given the shambles the rest of the place was in.

I stooped down beside one of the fallen. A bullet hole was clearly delineated in his forehead, but the way he lay said that he’d committed suicide.

I glanced about at the shadowing scout team and with silent consensus we all concluded the same thing. The scientists had never reached this part of the facility.

These traitors had taken their own lives. The question was why?

Why would they kill themselves upon achieving their own objective?

Had they been under compulsory mind control or was it something else?

In a place filled with so much death the smell of fine alcohol seemed out of place suddenly.

Standing up I moved to the doorway of an office.

At the desk sat a woman of about 50 years of age. An open bottle of alcohol lay before her on the table. Most of it was gone.

She looked up at my entrance and smirked in a drunken fashion, “Well, well if it isn’t the indomitable Capt. Lee himself. I was against your appointment by the way. In at least this it looks like I was right to be wrong.”

Her hand moved to pour the bottle sloppily into the glass before her and liquor sloshed everywhere, only about half of it getting into the glass.

I watched her silently taking in the loaded gun on the desk as I did.

The bottle now drained of its contents was hurled to the side. It smashed against the far wall of the office at the same time her hand slapped outward and sent the glass with its contents of alcohol flying off the desk.

“Does no good. I…. doesn’t matter how much I drink. Can’t stop the sound of their screaming and yet I can’t find the courage to blow my own brains out like the rest did. Tell me, what does that make me?”

I said nothing.

She looked about among us and must’ve read something extremely definable in our gazes.

Galvanized, she lifted her hand and picked up the loaded gun. Instead of pointing it at us though she aimed it at her own head.

Her finger on the trigger she looked away from the barrel to us and with almost desperation, she said, “You have to understand, I thought we were doing something good. We needed a catalyst. We weren’t going to do anything but sit on the advancements of the Ark of Wanel and before you knew it all of our enemies would’ve had the same technology as us one way or another. Don’t you understand? We didn’t know that we were being watched. It was only supposed to be a couple of cities. Just enough to galvanize the people into action. To war. We didn’t know what happened would actually happen! We didn’t know! We didn’t know! Oh God, I…… I killed them!”

She pulled the trigger and the gun went off loudly in the room.

The woman slumped forward over her desk in the lifeless array of one who was both a coward and a traitor.

None of us moved as the growing realization occurred that far be it from just simply being our enemies doing was the reality that some of our own had willingly participated in this charade.

Her words, “It was just supposed to be a couple of cities.” replayed over and over in my mind as I stared at one of my nations duplicitous alpha level clearance certificate holders.

The reality that some of our own people had had a hand in the undoing of our society as a whole set in heavily on one of the scouts in the party, who became so sickened that she lost the contents of her stomach into a corner of the room.

I felt only too much like joining her in this moment of abject revulsion at the immutable truth of the situation as it was to be found.

Speaking roughly I said, “Signal the all clear. Get more teams down here. Anything salvageable I want it packed up and taken out. Have the facilities detonation sequence checked for errors. I don’t want anything to remain of this place once we pull out.”

The scout team rushed to obey and slowly I walked out of the room to once more gaze at the dying efforts of all the non-traitors who had done their very best to take back the control room before it was too late. No matter how valiant their effort had been though they had failed.

Evil had won. An evil perpetrated first in the hearts of my own people.

Always I had held on to the notion that the people of Lothanel were a cut above the rest of the world. Clearly I had been wrong.

We may have seemed more morally righteous on the outside, but in the hearts of some, the same resident evil as everywhere else had invaded and taken root. All about me lay the bad fruit of their actions.

I heard a scuffling noise and turned warily. Two of my men were dragging a figure between them that could barely keep her feet under her.

I couldn’t see her face, but her hair was a mass of curly ringlets going off in every direction. The skin of her small, well-proportioned hands wasn’t dark enough to be full blood Cherion, but her hair said she still had a full dose of the blood of the people who had been our enemies for a very long time.

My gaze questioned the two men holding her. “We found her locked up in a cell down below. The strange thing is she’s in the uniform of being one of our own.”

The girl had been locked away in a cell for days without water. Going to a nearby cooler that had somehow been missed by bullets in all the action that had chewed up everything else I poured a glass of water.

Going to the girl I tipped her head back. The beauty of her light chocolate complexioned face was astounding.

Her eyes were closed and forcing calm over a suddenly awakened arousal I brought the glass of water to her lips. The water spilled a little and her eyes blinked open.

She started to gulp at the water, but I held it back and only allowed it to pour slowly through her cracked lips. They were very full lips.

“Easy now. Drink slowly.” I said, as she fought against the hold of the two men in order to grab at the glass of water.

Her gaze focused on me and she seemed to still.

She listened and with control she drank the water slowly until the glass was empty of it.

Blinking her eyes she seemed to take in her surroundings for the first time. I watched her eyes closely and as I did I saw the horror within them for what a truly horrific scene it was that was played out all about us.

I could tell that if she hadn’t been so dehydrated she would’ve been crying. The two task force members noticed the emotion as well and their grip on her slackened.

I met their questioning looks and nodded. They let her go.

The girl tottered on her feet for a moment, but then became more steady. I was ready to catch her if she did fall though.

Her cracked lips opened as a pair of the most expressive hazel eyes, I’d ever seen came back to mine, “Did they stop it in time? The signal?”

Wordlessly, I shook my head ’no’. Her hand came to her lips as her face reflected the extreme anxiousness of real grief.

She burst out emotionally with, “I didn’t do this! I swear! I had nothing….”

“I believe you.” I said softly.

Her words stopped as she blinked at me in surprise clearly not expecting my response.

“You were thrown into the lock up because of your part Cherion ancestry were you not?”

She nodded and then said, “She said it had to be me that leaked the passcodes, but I’m not even involved with that. I was a field agent, mostly undercover. They pulled me out of the field and brought me here and….”

“Because they needed a fall guy and you fit the bill perfectly. Someone Lotharians could believe might rat out on her allegiance because of her mixed blood.”

“Yes.” She whispered.

I looked away. How had we become so prejudiced as a people?

Glancing to the girl’s two escorts I said, “Take her on board and give her more to drink and something to eat.”

They nodded and started to move her along, but she stopped them by grasping one slim, but strong hand about my arm. My muscles knotted up with tension at the touch of what was truly an exotic vision of a female, “Am I still a prisoner?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that I trust you.”

She let go and was hurried along then. Turning away, I surreptitiously adjusted the front of my pants in an attempt to make room for the surging length of my manhood.

The girl had affected me powerfully, even elementally and yet I felt shame.

Gazing once more down upon the bodies of fallen patriots I wondered in vain how I could be thinking of mating an exotic looking girl at a time like this.

Shame aside, I just couldn’t get my mind off of the reality of the need my hands had to strip the girl bare of her clothes and bury the aching length of myself deep into her. For some reason it seemed that if I could do that I might find peace.

Peace that only lasted a moment maybe, but right now even a moment of peace would be like a prized possession that I’d trade almost anything for.