NIEMA HUNT

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Now… free stuff!

Apart from a chance to say thanks and hello, this email is also being sent to take care of a little housekeeping.

I promised you free stories when you signed up and here they are: two short stories from the Andersley Series. 

KISS OF THE VIKING is a short story set at Andersley featuring two new characters.

And

ONCE UPON A SCOT features Amory Quinn and Lachlan Baehr from SCOT AS HELL, book 3 in the Andersley Series. (Although this story can be read independently of SCOT AS HELL, sequentially the events of the story happen after the end of SCOT AS HELL, and the story is probably better served by reading it after reading SCOT AS HELL.)

You can receive both stories as well as other future free stories by clicking HERE.

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f you’re interested in getting in touch through social media, I am in the process of organizing things on Instagram (@NiemaHunt), Tiktok (@NiemaHuntAuthor), and possibly Facebook. 

I hope you enjoy the stories. Keep reading and I’ll keep writing.

Best,

Niema

P.S. If you’re interested in some of my Works In Progress, scroll down to read excerpts.

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPTS

FIRST CHAPTERS FROM THE DEMON OF AZWHALAR AND MATED TO HIS CAPTAIN 



TWO OF THE BOOKS IN MY CURRENT SFR SERIES IN PROGRESS

A Note About the Series: Once upon a time, I wrote a book called The Glass Admiral under a different pen name. That book was designed to be a part of a larger series. For reasons (it’s a long and harrowing on-going story, that maybe one day I’ll be free to go into) I was not able to publish the rest of the series. 

I never stopped writing it however, never stopped writing at all actually, which is why I am now editing and processing a massive stack of manuscripts. 

This series is part of that pile. All of which is to say that if you start reading The Demon of Azwhalr and recognise it, that’s because the first half of the book is a revamped edition of The Glass Admiral and the second half of the book is my unpublished book The Iron Lieutenant. 

None of the other stories in the series have been previously published.

This series is as of yet unnamed because I hate naming things. Hopefully, I’ll figure out something soon! 

There are also a couple of short stories related to this series that I’ll be adding to my free stories bundle in the course of finishing up this series, so if you’re interested, look out for those in my upcoming newsletters.

In any case, I hope you enjoy reading these first chapters!

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THE DEMON OF AZWHALR

CHAPTER 1

13:30, Monday, Admiral Kosuri’s Readyroom, The Asaro

“They sent the cavalry.”

Tightening her lips at the sardonic statement, Lieutenant Megarheri Saverna spared a moment to bless the powers that be for designing the helmet of her Class A dress uniform in such a way that all she could see of Admiral Sen Kosuri was his lower jaw. Eye contact can only lead to trouble for you, Saverna. The voice of one of her battle school comportment instructors echoed through her mind. You will never make senior ranks until you learn not to let every feeling you have reflect in your eyes. 

“Sir. No, Sir.” Saverna answered neutrally and surreptitiously pressed the inside of her left wrist harder against her saber. The feel of the cold metal sheath against her exposed skin was at once familiar and comforting, although it was nothing in comparison to the feeling of the hilt in her hand as she led a mounted charge.

There was a slight pause. “Have I somehow misread the details of your uniform, Lieutenant?” Saverna watched that heavy, square jaw tilt, felt his eyes on her as he gave her a slow once over, perusing her from her tall leather boots with their golden spurs and up along her white breeches and scarlet and gold uniform jacket encased in gleaming silver armor so revealed by the black cape thrown back, as was customary during such presentations, over her left shoulder to expose her insignia and sword, and then up to her silver helmet with its distinctive spire and black plume. 

Saverna tried to curtail her annoyance at the slightly snide emphasis placed on the word uniform and briefly wished herself back to the familiar ground of her unit. Space is no place for a cavalry woman. She took in the Admiral’s own uniform, a relatively straightforward and immensely practical affair in black with silver insignia, and felt her annoyance grow. She knew that the dress uniform of the Imperial Horse Guard looked flashy and antiquated next to the subdued fleet uniforms but felt that it was damn unsporting of him to point it out. It’s not like I designed the uniform after all. “Sir. No, Sir.” She answered and was pleasantly surprised by the amount of civility reflected in her tone. Simple, respectful answers, no emotions, no elaborations. Again the voice of her comportment instructor reminding her of her manners.

“Then what are you, Lieutenant?” 

Saverna suppressed the urge to smile as she caught the irritation in that. Civility may be the way forward, but there is something damned satisfying in this. “Sir, I am not the Cavalry but rather a single Cavalry officer, Sir.” 

A muscle began to tick along the Admiral’s jaw. “Are you arguing semantics with me, Lieutenant?”

“Sir. No Sir. Sir, It’s a non-debatable point, Sir. Sir, no need to argue, Sir.”

“Lieutenant?” The Admiral half purred, half growled.

“Sir?” Saverna fought the urge to tilt her head back so that she might see the expression that went with such an intriguing sound.

“Knock it off.”

“Sir?” 

“We both know that the reason that you have been assigned to me is precisely because you are outside my purview.”

“Sir. Yes Sir.” Saverna answered because she was well in the swing of it now.

“Lieutenant—” Again came that amazing sound, and this time Saverna gave in to temptation and tilted her head back so that she could take in his face. 

Dark eyes, hooded by the sloping forehead, prominent brow ridge, and thick eyebrows of a Recessive, stared back at her expressionlessly. Saverna studied his face as thoroughly and deliberately as he’d studied her uniform; heavy bones and broad features, thick lips, slightly flattened nose, and a pronouncedly square jaw all broadcast his Recessive heritage, but there was a sharpness to his features too, one that was lacking in pure Recs. Though thick and heavy, the bones in his face all had a sharp edge that was a direct contrast to the rounded bluntness typical in Recs. The human side shining through. 

Something flickered across his face at her scrutiny, and it struck her that he was uncomfortable being stared at. A hell of a thing for a high-ranking fleet officer and acknowledged hero. She thought. Never mind for such a rare and visible genetic marvel. 

Kosuri leaned back in his chair, drawing her attention to a pair of broad shoulders and chest that complemented his facial features. Definitely a large man. A Clydesdale of a man in horse terms. Unbidden, an image of attempting to get him to accept a bridle flashed in her mind, and she suppressed a grin. Not going to be an easy one, this one. Though, for one inappropriate moment, she contemplated what it might be like to have that large, powerful body under her, probably a good ride once he’s been trained. 

“If you’re quite finished ogling me, Lieutenant?” The Admiral’s voice, tight with irritation, broke into her less-than-professional line of thought, and she saw that he was gesturing at her to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Ah—yes, sir.” Reaching up to remove her helm, she tucked it under her right arm and, moving forward, used her left hand to adjust her saber as she sat. 

“That’s quite the maneuver.”

“I suppose it is.”

“You’re not a Doctor.”

“No. I am not a Doctor.”

“How old are you?”

“I am twenty-eight.”

“I am forty-two.”

“The youngest Admiral in the Fleet.”

“Yes.”

He regarded her silently for a long moment. “Why did they send you?”

“Because I am outside of your purview.” Saverna echoed his words from earlier. “You’re also, by reputation, the most difficult Admiral in the fleet.” She added and watched his jaw clench in reaction to that. “You’ve gone through seven bats before me, Sir.” A remarkable feat for someone who has been an Admiral for less than a year. 

He gave her a puzzled look, so she clarified: “Bats—Batwomen or Batmen.”

“We call them Bodywomen or Bodymen in Fleet Lieutenant.” 

“I see.” She said because he seemed to be waiting for a response. I’m Horse Guard.

“Did you volunteer for this assignment, Lieutenant?”

“No, Sir. I was selected.”

“You were selected to work with the most difficult Admiral in Fleet,” He said with peculiar emphasis. “In a position for which you are unqualified.”

“I wouldn’t say unqualified, Sir.” Saverna glanced down at the black plume on her helmet.

“What are your qualifications, Lieutenant?”

“I’m a Master Horse Trainer, Sir.”

Kosuri stared at her, non-plussed. 

The woman, damn her eyes, smiled at him in response and, crossing her legs, leaned back in her chair. A slight twist of her lips and an unholy light in her eyes indicated that she was amused though whether by him or by the situation, or both, he couldn’t tell. The expression startled him and made him realize that he couldn’t quite recall when he’d last seen it on the faces of one of his crew. Either I am as dull as Pillorian stew, or nobody dares be amused in my presence. A weight settled deep in his stomach at the realization. A certain reserve between an Admiral and his subordinates was good—something to be desired. A certain mystique, a more than human presence, was necessary, in fact, but not to the extent that his officers and crewmen were so guarded in his presence. Fear is not the objective. Fear is unhealthy.

He was conscious suddenly of his rigid posture. Knees straight in front, bent at ninety degrees, spine straight, hips and back of head in perfect alignment, hands clasped and resting on the desk in front of him. You look like you are posing for a formal portrait—a formal portrait of an asshole. Loosen the hell up.  

Cautiously, he pushed his legs out in front of him in preparation for leaning back in his chair. When the action sent a jolt of pain through his hips and up along his spine, he shifted his hips and used his right elbow to brace himself against the arm of his chair. Better.

“You’re in pain.” It wasn’t a question, and because it came with the accompanying realization that he had failed to conceal himself adequately, it was irritating.

“What is it that you think you know about me, Lieutenant?” 

A slight shrug. “I know that you are Fleet’s most notorious hero, a pain-in-the-ass by reputation and that you are important to the war effort—particularly in this sector.” She met his gaze unflinchingly. “I also know that this is your first field command since you were injured at Azwhalr and that you require assistance as a result of these injuries.”

“That was surprisingly diplomatic, Lieutenant.” 

“I may work in a barn, but I wasn’t raised in one, Admiral.” There was that smile again. Let’s see how long you can keep that up, Lieutenant, shall we?

“I was poisoned during the mutiny at Azwhalr.” Despite his attempts to keep things distant, he felt the phantom burn of the poison working its way through his body. “As a result, my body was subject to an uncontrolled and rapid physical and sexual maturation.” He told her levelly and refused to follow his momentary desire to avoid talk of the sexual consequences of the poisoning. As it was a fact immediately evident to anyone who had seen the recordings from the bridge of The Asaro, there was little point in hiding it. 

When his LT had no particular reaction to his revelation, he wondered if she’d seen the tapes. Who hasn’t seen those tapes? Aside from me. Ignoring the anger that began to burn in his stomach at the recollection of how public those tapes and what they portrayed had been made, he continued. “Because of this, I sustained damage to my joints and nerves.” Among other things. “The influence of my Recessive heritage on my physiology is such that I do not respond well to conventional forms of medications and treatments. There is no cure for this. There is only management.” 

No response from his audience, though she continued to watch him attentively. 

“There are symptoms associated with this that I require assistance with.”

“What kind of symptoms?” 

“My muscles and joints get stiff and can lock up.” He told her evenly. “I also have problems regulating my body temperature.” He took a deep breath, wondered how many more times he would be required to explain himself. “I have difficulties with food—with eating and am sometimes sick.” He left out the part about his unpredictable and ever-changing biochemistry and raised his eyebrows at her sardonically. “Do you still want the job?”

“No.” She raised her eyebrows in return. “However, as I am under orders, we are stuck with one another, it seems.”

Despite his determination to send her packing, that stung, and Kosuri found himself drawing his legs in and straightening in response. “Then go and find something less ridiculous to wear, Lieutenant.”

Saverna, in the process of pulling her helm back on as she exited Kosuri’s office, had not even taken a complete step into the corridor when the blast of a phase rifle hit her and knocked her back into the room.

She spent a bare second registering that her helm, which she had been holding out in front of her, had taken the brunt of the shot and was now a charred and flaming mess before her instincts caught up and sent her scrambling across the floor to hit the lock key on the door panel. Almost simultaneously, the ship’s intercom system wailed an amber alert, and a voice advised them to report to battle stations and prepare for Operation Mongoose.

“What in the name of the universe is Operation Mongoose?!” 

“Operation Mongoose is a series of maneuvers designed to evict unwanted boarders from the ship while simultaneously dealing with their vessels.”

Turning back, she found Kosuri already up and unlocking the weapon’s cabinet behind his desk. “Report.” He ordered over his shoulder as he pulled down a pair of rifles.

“Two men armed with phase rifles. Non-military—“She hesitated. “Well, non-fleet, at least. They were wearing uniforms... brown and black. Headed this way.” 

“Pirates.” Kosuri proffered a rifle, and after stamping out her still flaming helm, she took it and, after checking the safety, slung it over her shoulder so she could take the hand weapon he offered next.

“You know how to use those I trust?” Without waiting any longer than was necessary to take in her nod, he turned back to the locker and began to fill his pockets with flash bangs and smoke-chokes. “I don’t suppose you have any pockets in that ridiculous ensemble?”

“It’s not ridiculous.” She answered automatically. “And, of course, it has pockets.” This snottiness about my uniform has really got to stop. She held out her hand, and with only a slight lifting of his eyebrows, he dropped a handful of smoke-chokes into her palm, smoke-chokes that she, in turn, tucked into the deep pockets at her hips where her breeches bloused out. “More.” She held out her hand again.

“Fair enough.” Kosuri gave her flash-bangs this time, and she tucked them into one of the pouches on her belt.

“They should be here.” Saverna glanced at the door. It had been about twenty seconds since she’d locked the door. More than long enough to get down the corridor.

“If they’re not here by now, they aren’t coming,” Kosuri said.

Saverna frowned. “Surely capturing an Admiral is a worthy pursuit?”

“They don’t necessarily know I’m here, Lieutenant. If they’re using specs, then this office is listed as janitorial storage and repair for the upper decks.” A small smile. “This ship was never intended to function as a flagship. Adjustments had to be made in order to accommodate my presence, but the specs weren’t updated.” The smile grew into a grin, the kind that eased tension lines and lit up his eyes with energy and warmth.

“So, if they don’t know we are here... then our part in Operation Mongoose is...?”

“We are the element of surprise.”

Saverna rocked back on her heels. “What precisely do you have in mind?” Kosuri considered her. “You are taking this rather well.”

Saverna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Believe it or not, Admiral, I am not merely decorative.” She arched a brow at him. “I, too, have received extensive training in things military.”

That earned her a burst of startled laughter. “Okay, LT. Message received.” He gestured to the ceiling above them. “Does your training extend to climbing through ventilation shafts?”

“We cavalry officers are all about the climbing, sir.” 

“Glad to hear it, LT. Now, if you would be so good as to get up on the desk and open the shaft, I will make certain that if and when our unwelcome guests try to get in here, they receive the nasty surprise they deserve.” Kosuri turned and, rifle in one hand, and crutch in the other, made his way to the door. To Saverna’s eye, there appeared to be a jauntiness to his limping progress. You’re enjoying this. No wonder they consider you difficult.

The revelation reassured her, and she was grinning as she levered herself up onto his desk and reached for the cover to the ventilation shaft. “I assume we are heading for the bridge?” The shaft was too high for her to get a look while standing, so grabbing the edges, she pulled her head and shoulders up into the shaft. She was relieved to see that the shaft was large enough to crawl through comfortably and well-lit. “Nice ventilation shafts!” She called down to Kosuri and immediately wanted to kick herself at the inanity of the comment.

“Thanks.” She heard the Admiral answer wryly from below her. A second later, she felt his hands grip the bottoms of her feet. “Up you go, LT.” He accompanied the words with a push, and Saverna found herself propelled up and into the shaft.

Saverna reversed herself and peered down into the Admiral's office only to find herself face-to-face with Kosuri, now standing on the desk and in the process of divesting himself of his crutches. That done, he handed her his rifle, which she pulled into the duct and laid beside her on the floor. Then, thinking Kosuri might need help, she hastily unstrapped her own rifle from her back and set it next to his. t, done, she stuck her head back out the duct and gestured at his crutches. "Aren't we going to need those?"

"We? Have you developed a limp LT?" Humor with an edgy undertone that she couldn't quite identify.

"Ah—point taken." No sense in dissembling here. It is my job to become intimately familiar with your body, after all. We are going to need to be able to discuss such things.

Kosuri studied her face, and knowing that trust was going to be a factor, Saverna deliberately kept her expression open. "I can walk without them." He said finally. "For periods of time—"He hesitated. "It's awkward but manageable."

Saverna nodded to indicate she'd taken that in. "So, do you need help getting up here?"

"No. Just move back, LT."

Saverna refrained from asking him if he was certain and was engaged in mentally patting herself on the back for that heroic feat when he lunged up and through the entrance to the ventilation shaft and so found that, due to her wandering mind, she had not backed up nearly as far as she should have considering the Admiral's size and that her failure to do so in combination with his forward momentum had now put her face in intimate distance with his face. Within kissing distance. The thought whispered through her mind, and she glanced at his lips. Such soft, human-looking lips for such a hard face.

"LT..." The word swirled through the air between them; half whisper, half growl, drawing her attention to his eyes. "Back up."

Saverna, looking into those reserved eyes, decided discretion was the better part of valor and backed away without a word.

Moments later, she found herself struggling once again with discretion as she attempted to press herself into the side of the shaft in order to create room for Kosuri to pass her. The relatively large size of the Admiral in comparison to the width of the shaft would have made for a tight fit even without her presence thrown into the mix, and so despite her best efforts to prevent it, she found herself more or less sliding down the front of his body as he moved forward.

Despite his assurances and the strength he'd demonstrated in pulling himself into the shaft, Kosuri clearly found the one-sided crab-like motions required to move past her awkward and had to pause several times during the maneuver to regroup and make adjustments, and it was during just such a time that discretion escaped her when without thinking she nudged his sidearm which was digging into her hip suggestively. "Is that your sidearm, or are you just happy to see me?"

As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she regretted them, a regret that was further compounded by the quality of the silence that her question elicited from the Admiral.

"Sorry—I—that was inappropriate." She told his chest.

Another sigh. "Don't tiptoe around me, LT." He told her quietly and pulled himself forward without leaving her to wonder what that meant.

 With a mental shrug, she bookmarked the comment 'Later' and pulled the ventilation shaft closed. "So where are we going, sir?" Reversing herself, she strapped the rifle Kosuri had given her across her back and crawled after him.

"Where do you think, LT?"

Saverna rolled her eyes at the sardonic tone and barely refrained from giving the sarcastic answer hovering on the tip of her tongue. Better. Part. Of. Valor. "Bridge?" Impressively neutral. 

"Correct."

After what felt like several kilometers of crawling later, Kosuri halted in front of another access panel. Saverna, who was by this time sweating under her cape and breastplate, took in Kosuri's cool appearance with disfavor. Not a drop of sweat after all that. Inhuman.

"This leads to the bridge galley." He nodded at the panel. "Off the main corridor and two corridors back."

Saverna frowned. "That seems like an asinine place for a galley. Why would they...?" She trailed off at the Admiral's look. "Right. Retrofitting in all of its higgledy-piggledy glory."

"Higgledy-piggledy..." Kosuri's expression morphed into something resembling bemusement before he shook his head and continued. "The retrofitting is serving us well today, LT. Being out of the way and code locked, it is highly unlikely that our borders have taken control of it. It is, therefore, an auspicious place for us to exit."

"Are there no exits onto the bridge proper?" I am supposed to be seeing to your safety, after all, and involving you in potential firefights seems to run counter to that. 

The atmosphere in the tunnel cooled as the Admiral froze. "I am still a fleet officer, Lieutenant, whatever my physical shortcomings." He said with a great and deliberate evenness.

Saverna ran a list of all the possible ways she could reply to that through her head but finally rejected every last one of them and settled for tucking away the knowledge of this sore spot away with a simple: "Yessir." And then, when that didn't do anything to alleviate the atmospheric pressure: "But as your bat, I reserve the right to go first."

"Bodywoman LT."

"Same thing, sir."

"It isn't the same..." He all but growled at her. "One is—"He ran a hand through his hair and let out a huff of frustration. "Why is it that it always comes down to semantics with you?!"

"Semantics make the world go round, sir. "

That earned her a look of disbelief. "We're in space."

Shrugging in response, Saverna got to work unstrapping the phase rifle from her back, and then after a moment's thought in which she determined that she wasn't willing to invite further discussion on her clothing by committing the ultimate sin of removing a piece of it—another piece of it, she spared a thought for her helm back in the Admiral's office—and running around in violation of dress regulations, particularly not in front of Kosuri, pulled her uniform cape back and tucked it into her belt. That accomplished, she pulled her sidearm and crawled to the edge of the access hatch. "I suggest you pull that hatch up as quietly as possible, and after we see what we can see from here, I go down head first and clear the room if need be."

"It's almost like you are in charge, LT." Came Kosuri's dry comment.

Saverna shrugged. "In matters involving your physical safety, I am in charge."

"We'll see LT."

Weapon at the ready, Saverna slid her head and shoulders through the ventilation shaft and made a sweep of the galley. As the admiral had predicted, it was empty. Pulling herself back up into the shaft, she nodded at Kosuri. “Clear.” And began the process of reversing herself to descend feet first, this time into the galley. She had just lowered her feet into the room and balanced herself on her hands in preparation for the drop to the floor when the unmistakable sound of the galley door opening broke the silence. “Shit.” Flicking a quick glance at Kosuri, she finished swinging herself over the shaft and dropped into the room. The admiral’s startled expression melded with the image of a man dressed in brown and black standing in front of a closing galley door. Armed. She noted as she hit the ground low. And facing away from me. The moment she hit the ground, she used her momentum to lunge forward and tackle the pirate. As they fell, she heard his weapon clatter to the ground and thanked the powers that be that he’d been sweeping the room when she’d dropped and, as a result, had a looser grip on his weapon than he might otherwise have had. 

Instinct then had her scrambling up the pirate’s body to make use of her swiftly fading advantage of surprise to silence him before he could call for help. Pressing one hand to his mouth, she pulled her ceremonial dagger from her belt and pressed it against his throat as she pulled herself astride his chest. “Scream, and I’ll kill you.” She whisper-shouted at her captive. 

“Something tells me you’re a handful in bed.” A voice behind her told her she was too late with her warning, and a moment later, she felt a hand grab at the back of her uniform. Pushing forward with her knife hand with the intention of finishing off the pirate below her before dealing with the pirate behind her, Say abruptly found herself pushed off balance and scrambling to regain control of her captive as a great weight hit her from behind. Pushing back against the weight, she stabilized herself in time to see her dagger sliding across the floor away from her and instinctively locked her hands together and brought them to bear on the pirate’s face. With a sickening thud, the man’s head slammed back against the heavy metal decking, rendering him unconscious. 

Pushing herself off the pirate and whirling to face the new opponent, she was treated to the sight of Admiral Kosuri half on his back, half propped against the galley cupboards with his arm around the second pirate’s neck. Though he was still struggling, the mottled purple of his face indicated that the pirate was on the verge of losing consciousness. Seeing that Kosuri had things under control, Saverna made her way to the door and, after ascertaining that the corridor was clear, used the electronic keypad to secure it. 

By the time she had done that and turned back to the Admiral, Kosuri was in the process of pushing the unconscious body of the pirate to the floor. Then, grabbing the countertop, he pulled himself to his feet and began pulling open cupboards and drawers. “We’ll need to tie them up and gag them.” He told her, not looking up from his search. 

“Agreed.” Saverna studied the unconscious pirates. “We don’t need any repeat fights.” Stepping over her pirate, she stooped to retrieve her dagger. Noting its cleanliness, she slipped it back into its sheath. 

“Ah,” Kosuri said with some satisfaction and held up a handful of plastic food tie fasteners. “Don’t enjoy backtracking LT?” He asked as he made fast work of improvising the food ties into restraints. 

“No, sir.” She took the restraints he offered and set to work binding the hands and feet of her pirate while Kosuri did the same with his. “Does anybody?”

“Eh?” Kosuri looked up from where he was crouched over, binding his pirate’s hands behind his back. “I suppose not.” Standing, he brushed absently at his temple and, when his hand came away covered in blood, swore softly. Saverna could sympathize. Now was not a good time. “We’ll need to do something about that.” She told him as she scanned the room for a first aid kit. “Head wounds are a bitch with the bleeding, and the last thing you need is to have blood interfering with your vision.” Finally locating what she needed in one of the cupboards, she flipped it open on the counter and regarded the contents thoughtfully.

“Bandage and tape,” Kosuri told her, apparently sensing her dilemma. “My biochemistry isn’t compatible with any of the drugs in the kit. And I’m not sure you’re compatible with that laser scalpel.” He told her not without humor. 

“Okay.” Putting a mental pin in the issue of why the ship’s med kits weren’t equipped with anything suitable for the admiral’s physiology, Saverna grabbed some gauze and antiseptic, then hesitated. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Saverna hooked one of the galley chairs with her foot and pulled it closer. “Have a seat. This will only take a couple of minutes.”

Obligingly Kosuri lowered himself into the chair. Then, to her surprise, he held out his hand. “If you give me the gauze, I can clean the wound myself.”

Saverna dumped antiseptic onto the gauze. “Because the one who can’t see the wound is clearly the one who should be cleaning it?” Gauze coated to her satisfaction, she stepped forward and pressed it against the wound. “I’m going to apply some pressure to see if we can get the bleeding slowed down. Let me know if it hurts.” 

To her surprise, the instant she pressed the gauze to the wound, Kosuri closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. 

“Admiral?” Saverna hesitated. I’m barely touching you, but without pressure, this wound isn’t going to stop bleeding.

“It’s fine, LT. I’m fine.” He began to breathe deeply and regularly. 

“If I’m hurting you—”

“You’re not hurting me.” His face took on a sunburned aspect. “Recessives do not engage in casual facial contact as a rule.” He told her steadily. “The skin is…sensitive.”

Saverna frowned. “So I am hurting you.” 

“No.” 

“Then—?”

“Then nothing. It is just—unexpected.”

“I see,” Saverna said though she wasn’t sure she did. Something for later. She thought, considering their situation. “It will just take a moment.” She said to fill the silence.

Kosuri closed his eyes. “Good. We need to get to the bridge.” 

“I am aware.” She lifted the edge of the gauze and peered under it. 

“That wasn’t a criticism, Lieutenant.” Kosuri winced as the gauze stuck, and Saverna used a fingertip to try to dislodge the material without restarting the bleeding. She was so intent on freeing the gauze that it took her a moment to realize that the admiral had stopped breathing. “I’m sorry.” She said as she continued to pull and wiggle. 

“It’s not a problem, Lieutenant.” Kosuri’s calm words were belied by his face, which blazed a fiery red. Embarrassed by pain? 

The gauze finally free; Saverna grabbed a new piece from the med kit and taped it over the wound. That done, she poured disinfectant on another piece of gauze and turned back to the admiral. 

“I’ll do that.” He told her and took the gauze before she could wipe away the blood that coated his cheek and neck. 

Without comment, Saverna turned away to close the med kit and, once that was done, set about straightening her uniform. When she turned back to the admiral, he’d regained his feet. Both the blood and color were gone from his face. He’ll need to wash his hair, though. She noted as the light reflected off the blood in his hairline. “Bridge?” 

“Bridge.” Kosuri concurred, tossing the bloody gauze onto the counter. 

................................................................................................................................

MATED TO HIS CAPTAIN

CHAPTER 1

“Situation Report?”

Captain Kataria Arpad glanced up from the screen of the Data Port she was using and rolled her eyes at her Chief Medical Officer. “Dour.” She answered only half-joking as she reached to accept the tea the other woman proffered. With her other hand, she thumped the panel that declared the Data Station property of Argus Space Station, Docking Bay 7: FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY. “These systems weren’t designed for this.”

It was Dr. Thea Sinclair’s turn to shrug. “It’s not like they could have predicted this.”

“What? That an Imperial Space Fleet delegation would be waiting on station to return to their ship just when all seven circles of hell break loose, war is declared, and said delegation is stuck cooling their heels on station with a bunch of slagging civilians and unable to reach their duty stations because their ship is otherwise occupied defending the sector’s jump-gate from attack?” Kate asked dryly. “That indicates a serious lack of imagination on the part of the engineers who designed this station.” She offered the other woman a slight smirk and took a sip of her tea.

“Troglodytes.” Thea agreed, eyes sparkling in amusement.

Kate stood and leaned one hip against the console as she began to rotate her shoulders this way and that in an attempt to loosen muscles that had stiffened during the hours she’d been hunched over the computer. “Seriously though, we’re stuck cooling our heels for a while yet.” With her free hand, Kate checked to see that her hair was still relatively tidy, one half of her brain noting absently that it was time for a cut when she felt how close it was to brushing her shoulders. “The Tide will have dispatched a shuttle, but they’ll be running dark, so that means no interstellar jumps, which means that we’ve got at most another 48 hours here... 36 at best.” She sent Thea a speculative look. “Unless something better turns up and we choose to divest these kind people of their ride.”

The CMO shrugged. “Command Decision.” She said airily and raised her cup in a mock salute to the authority of the Captain. “I’m strictly bones and colds, remember?”

Kate raised her eyebrow at that. “Being Medical hasn’t stopped you from sticking your nose in on any number of previous—“

Thea cut her off with a raised hand. “Perhaps not.” she agreed and then gave an ironic little half-bow. “However, on this occasion, I shall willingly cede to your superior judgment, years of experience, your innate gravitas, your supreme authority—“

“My ability to know when someone is blowing air up my proverbial skirt.” It was Kate’s turn to interrupt, and she did so with a grin. “What exactly is all this in honor of Doctor?” Kate swirled the tea in her cup with a smile.

“Nothing,” Thea replied promptly, all innocence.

Kate raised her eyebrows at her friend.

“Well, I suppose...” The woman began.

“Suppose what?”

“I suppose I was just wondering what you’re going to do about that?” Thea asked, jerking her head slightly to the side.

Kate glanced over to the spot where her executive officer sat on the floor, knees drawn up, head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed, empty space all around. No one wanted to sit near a half Recessive on a good day on this gods-be-damned hole of a spaceport, never mind next to a suspiciously ill-looking half-Rec like her second in command. Still, the issue was hardly high on her list at the moment. Just so long as the natives weren’t getting restless…  

“That is Commander Junnet,” Kate said deliberately. 

“I realize that this breaks all sorts of protocol,” Thea said just as deliberately, indicating with a significant look that she had received Kate’s message. She looked down at her tea for a moment before looking back up at the other woman’s blue eyes intent. “And that this is a subject that is not, even at the best of times, up for discussion but...” Another quick glance down into her tea and a wry smile. “These are certainly not the best of times, are they?”

When Thea glanced up again, she held Kate’s by now forbidding gaze until the other woman sighed and rolled her shoulders. “No, they are not.” She relented reluctantly. She glanced at her XO briefly. “What’s—“She scowled as she searched for the appropriate words. “What’s wrong with him?” She glanced back at Thea expectantly.

“Nothing.” The CMO replied softly, and when Kate looked askance at that, she gave her a chiding look. “This is a natural part of his physiology, Captain.”

Kate watched Thea’s face as she considered that. “Message received. What’s going on with him?” She rephrased her question and then wrinkled her nose and added. “—exactly—“In deference to Thea’s frown. The frown that indicated that she knew the Captain knew about her XO’s medical issues, at least as far as they were recorded in his personnel jacket.

“As you know, we were delayed several days on planet.” Thea began.

“I am aware,” Kate replied dryly.

“Well, as a result, the Commander’s gone off his meds.” The CMO narrowed her eyes at the Captain.

“And?” Kate frowned, confused. “Can’t you just give him something?” She waved a hand to indicate her lack of knowledge of the technical details and continued. “Manually?” She elaborated, fully aware from his personnel file, that Junnet had a spinal pump implanted that kept the drugs he needed to keep his hormones leveled out and circulating at a constant level throughout his body.

Thea shook her head. “It’s not that simple.” She explained. “As long as he’s been on these meds, he’s started to develop resistance. Without careful analysis and appropriate cautionary procedures, adjustments,” She elaborated for the Captain’s benefit. “He is at serious risk for adverse reactions both from the med cocktail as well as from fluctuations in med levels because without the pump, there’s no way to keep his levels constant.”

“How serious are these adverse reactions?” Kate asked, wanting to see the whole picture so that she could make an appropriate decision for her crew. She suspected, by her CMO’s presence and involvement of her in a strictly medical situation, that she already knew the answer to that.

“Potentially deadly.” The doc confirmed quietly. “If we were on board...”

“You’d have the appropriate medical facilities to treat complications?” It was only half a question.

Thea nodded. “I can’t do anything for him here.” She looked disgusted. “The station isn’t equipped for someone like him, and I wasn’t expecting--” Her spread hands encompassed their present situation. “This, so I only have a basic med kit on me.” The woman looked faintly embarrassed to be caught with her proverbial pants down. 

Kate shrugged. “You’re not the only one.” She assured her friend. “In future, though, we’ll have to—“

“Do better.” Thea finished for her solemnly, although her eyes twinkled slightly at the use of what was by now a very well-known aphorism of the Captain’s.

Kate raised an eyebrow at that but sighed, accepting the hit, and crossed her hands over her chest. “So, we’ve come to the portion of our program where you explain the details of my mission to me and then send me on my way.” She intoned. “What can I do?” She asked Thea, not really expecting a response and simultaneously wondering how much she cared. She hadn’t known Junnet very long—no more than a couple of months, really— but she liked him. He was a competent, dependable Executive Officer, the kind that kept to himself both on and off the bridge. She wondered to what extent his being her Exec made him her responsibility off the bridge.

Thea shrugged eloquently. “Give him someone to lean on when he can’t hold it together any longer? There’s nothing more for you to do here at the moment, and this is hitting him like a freight ship” Thea glanced over her at the subject of their conversation. “He could probably use a little empathy, or, failing that, a little protection from the hostile prying eyes and potentially hands of the locals.” She indicated with a nod the various clusters of civilians who were eyeing the commander with varying levels of hostility and fear.

“Have you ever been given reason to think he would welcome any such intrusions into his private affairs?” Kate asked her friend incredulously. “And from me?! The man has barely spoken two non-work-related words to me since we met.”

Thea shrugged. “Can’t hurt.” She said blithely. “No time like the present to start making changes.”

Kate rolled her eyes at the platitudes. “Are you negotiating an alliance?”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Thea replied calmly. “Besides, you’re senior here, so he’s yours to protect.”

Recognizing defeat, Kate sighed and held up her hands. “Message received.” Glancing over Thea’s shoulder, she studied the way the commander had his arms wrapped around his abdomen. Not good. “Is there anything we can give him?” She asked, even though she was already half anticipating the answer.

“Aside from sex?” It was only half a joke.” Nothing we have on us is compatible with his physiology.” Thea confirmed Kate’s suspicions.

Kate sighed again. “When we get back—”

“The med kits need updating.” Thea tapped her temple with one neatly manicured fingertip. “Got it noted right here, boss.”

Kate rocked back on her heels, resisted the urge to sigh, and then gave herself a mental smack; no more sighing. Sighing was not something those of her rank engaged in. She nodded instead. “Good. What have we got?”

“We have water and blankets.” Twisting around, Thea grabbed the aforementioned items and, turning back, offered them to Kate. “We also have 42 trapped local civilians on the verge of a freak-out and only six crew members.”

“One of whom is down for the count.” Kate inserted dryly.

Because they were being watched by the civilians on the verge, Thea frowned only with her eyes. “Don’t underestimate him, Kate. He’s strong. He can control this.” 

Kate raised a skeptical brow. “If he’s so strong, what does he need me for?”

“For the same reason, people with headaches take painkillers.” This time it was Thea who was all dryness.

Kate blinked and opened her mouth to respond but halted when Thea raised her hand. “I don’t think I have to tell you that there is a mood in the room Kate, one we don’t want to contribute further to with the Crimson Tide still hours away. These people have every reason to hate Recs.” Thea’s expression was grim. “Trust me as an empath when I tell you that we need him up on his feet looking more like the alliance officer he is and less like the full-blooded Recs who run wild on the surface of this planet raping and killing and terrorizing the local population.”

Aware of being watched, Kate carefully refrained from looking at the subject of their discussion. “Surely they don’t know—“

“No. Not yet. But they know enough to suspect.” Thea huffed at a stray bit of hair that fell into her eyes. “These people know about Recs Kate, and they’re watching him, waiting for him to devolve. He’s only half Rec, and he has phenomenal control over most of the symptoms of the Rut, but there is going to come a point when he is going to be exposed because he will no longer be able to hide everything. That can’t happen here, both for his sake and ours.” Thea’s voice was intense now, and Kate nodded her understanding.

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NIEMA HUNT