Master of the Galaxy by Tasha Temple Page A

will mingle your workers, creating a
unified workforce for mining, harvest, storage, shipment and
quality. Tryton and D’cren crews will share leadership,
administrative and labor roles.”
    The details, I knew, would be easily worked
out. It was an elegant solution to a long-standing controversy, one
which would cost each party little, but obtain the accord both
sought. Both leaders could see the wisdom in my pronouncement. It
was solutions like this for which our Jiikorian expertise was
sought and given, for a price of course.
    Just as we were finalizing the arrangements,
the doors to the outpost burst open and a man, taller than I (our
race is considered tall and I am taller than most men) blustered
in, covered in asteroid dirt. His entrance caused quite the stir as
security for both leaders, as well as my own detail, rushed to
determine who he was and what was his purpose.
    I paid him little attention – his presence
was irrelevant to the negotiations and my thoughts were on
completion. I was ready to head back to Yar and engage in my
customary, long meditative session which I use to restore my mind
and renew my talents after each transaction.
    Absorbed as I was in finalizing the details,
I did not notice that the hall had fallen silent. I am usually
aware of everything – no, I am always aware of everything – at
least I had been up until that day. I looked up and every single
person was frozen in place, motionless, as if a strange distortion
in time had just swept over Karatar. Everyone, that is, except
Him.
    He walked up and stood before my throne
where I was seated, authenticating the terms of the treaty at my
working desk.
    “Rise,” he said to me.
    His voice was deep, firm, authoritative. I
immediately knew he had strong powers. Powers beyond those of
anyone in the hall, despite his appearance as some sort of rogue
driller. He was possessed of physical strength, a primal magnetism,
and a darkness to his personality, though those qualities appealed
to me not at all in the way they would matter to most women. As a
Jiikorian, I did not engage in sex nor did I feel a sexual
attraction to anyone. We feel no need, no urge, no instinct to
copulate. We have a way of procreation that is beyond the scope of
this story, but it does not involve the crude sexual act in which
most races engage.
    I also immediately knew he was not using his
powers on me. He had persuaded all the security forces to lay down
their arms, he held an entire hall of people immobile, but he had
commanded me to rise with no pretense of his abilities. I obey no
one. I am of the top strata, the highest rank, venerated by all. I
learn, I listen, but I do no one’s bidding. Still, I found myself
unable to say no to this man.
    I rose.
    He looked at me, his dark eyes glinting. I
could not tell you what color they were. Perhaps they were multiple
colors, perhaps they changed with his mood. I only remember that
they were dark.
    “I am pleased,” he said.
    At his words, I felt a jolt rush through me,
a sensation I cannot describe, something both intense and
electrifying, perhaps originating on a very primitive level. I have
never desired to please anyone, let alone any man. Perhaps I have
pleased others through my work, my expertise, my skills, but I have
never cared whether or not they were pleased. But at his simple
statement, I knew at that instant I wanted to please Him. It is
hard to say why, let me continue the story.
    “You are Miya.”
    Again, he was not using any of his gifts. I
was arrogant enough. I could have turned him away. Everyone knows I
am Miya. I do not have to answer to statements such as this which
are not even questions.
    But I said, “Yes,” and lowered my eyes. I
knew then that I was lost.

CHAPTER
2
    He produced a collar and fastened it around
my neck. I do not know the answer to where he had it hidden or why
he had brought it with him. It was beautiful, fitting I suppose,
not the kind of rough, harsh collars I have seen on