Page 54 of Star Mates

“My mate died two years ago,” he said softly.

Emmarie held up a hand. “I’m not looking for a mate!”

“I’m not as well,” he assured. “But I’ve missed companionship. I’ve spent most of the past two years on active duty because this place is so quiet.”

The tone of his voice hinted at a very deep and lasting pain. Suddenly, she understood the décor of his home. This had been her home and he hadn’t the heart to change one thing. The last of her reserve melted away.

“I, too, have lost my mate,” she told him. “Although, I have no grave to mourn over. I carry hope he’ll come back to me.”

“It is Captain Raiden? Is he the babe’s father?”

Her breath caught at the mention of his name. She nodded. “Have you…have heard anything about where he might be?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, halting her tentative question. “But if I do, rest assured I’ll come straight to you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Please feel free to stay here until he returns for you. And if he should never, well, you and your child would always be welcome here.”

She nodded, tears burning her eyes. She blinked rapidly, silently cursing her evolving hormones. It had to be them, right? Why should she cry when she knew she’d see Pell again?

She had to see him again.

****

If she thought she’d rusticate at the General’s home, she’d been vastly mistaken. The next day a plethora of clothes were delivered and though she protested, the General made sound arguments that the money had been spent and she needed to wear something other than the white gown from the Merloni medical ship. So she conceded.

He escorted into society, and she learned the intricacies of the Durian social order. Like any other civilized world there were classes. Durian law had the wealthy invest into a part of the city and it was his or her responsibility to make sure the people within that section had work, shelter and food. General Nairan took her to his section of the city, and she met many Durian’s who looked as if they were seeing an alien for the first time.

The next day he took her to the Council hearings about the current war being raged through space against the Unaria. He had requested she wear a shirt that revealed her branding. At first, she was hesitant, loathed to let people view the hideous scarring. But as they walked through the numerous Durian delegates, she saw them stare first at her and then slip to the mark that she bore and realized the General had made her a deliberate ploy to work on sympathy. After that, she had all the clothing altered to show off the mark.

The following night she was his escort to a grand and opulent ball, one being held to honor the Durian soldiers about to be sent off to the war effort. Even though the ball was for the elite of society, the General had told her it was also to raise money for the soldiers’ families, in case the soldier never returned. A charity ball, he explained. That night, as Emmarie followed his lead and stood by his side, she saw how the Durian world was controlled by the rich and knew that to have humans recognized by this world she would have to win over the ones in power.

She came up with the idea of a benefit show for the refugees of Sparta. If there was one thing the upper echelons of the Durian high society loved more than flaunting their wealth, it was flaunting it in the name of beneficence.

She took her idea to General Nairan who approved. A good publicity to raise awareness of the human plight, since many of the rich held majority votes. To gain their favor would gain sympathy for obtaining citizenship. And, of course, citizenship would safeguard humans from being held as slaves. construct the

The abstract idea morphed into something solid.

She’d known he was a wealthy man but over the next few days, she came to realize just how important General Nairan was in Durian Society. He introduced her to several prominent families who threw their enthusiasm into overdrive at the idea of hosting a charity event, especially once Emmarie made it known she would sing. Although many didn’t know her singing capabilities, the General’s assurance was all they needed.

He maintained his stiff, formal bearing at all times, even when they were alone together in his home eating dinner or relaxing in front of the fire. His fatigues might be gone but his soldier’s stance never relaxed for one moment. At first it made her uncomfortable, but she soon came to appreciate the regimented in the previous chaos.

“Are you returning to the battle lines any time soon?” she finally asked that night as his cook served them dinner.

“Why? Are you anxious to be rid of me?” His red eyes stared at her unblinking.

“Not at all,” she replied. “I was simply wondering if your expertise wouldn’t be better suited to the Durian fleet rather than attending balls.”

“To be victorious, there is much a war needs,” he said. “Military tactics, most definitely, as well as soldiers to fight with. But unpopular wars die out quickly when financial aid is withheld, and right now my strategy is make those who have a loud opinion shout very highly in favor of continuing the fight.”

“That makes sense,” she murmured. “I just wanted to make sure I was not holding you back.”

“Certainly not,” he replied. He hesitated for a moment and then squared his shoulders. “I have men searching for two things. As soon as they find one or both, I will leave to resume my command, but until that time, the Durian Armada has many competent generals at the helm.”

She cocked her head. “What two things?”

He took a bite, chewed and swallowed before answering. “I want the head of Lord Palazio of the First House of Galjani. When my men have captured him, I plan on killing him. Do you have a problem with that?”

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