feeling all right?" Roca asked, concerned.
"Now I am." Only she could get away with calling him Eldri; to everyone else, he was Eldrinson. It bemused Roca's people, who couldn't understand why the father was Eldrinson and the son Eldrin. Well, he hardly intended to saddle his firstborn with the name Eldrinsonson. In the tradition of his people, they alternated generations with the word "son." His father had been Eldrin, he was Eldrinson, and his son was Eldrin. He had hoped Eldrin would continue the tradition, but having two Eldrinsons alive at the same time was just too confusing.
He brushed his finger over her lips. He had gone for a year without touching his wife, during that time he had refused to see his family. Since then, they had been making up for the lost nights. Even knowing she would come right back tonight, it disquieted him when she left. He had been without her for too long.
"Kurj's EI will let him know I am fine." He tugged on her arm and murmured, "You should stay here."
"I thought you were tired." She was smiling, though. She lay down next to him.
He pulled her into an embrace. "I need my medicine. You."
The Skolian doctors could have their hospitals and machines. Roca did more for him than they had ever managed.
She smoothed his hair back from his face, her hands gende but sensuous. They undressed in the dim light from a lamp on the nightstand. She was a balm in his arms, then a temptress, then fire. They made love as they had the first night they spent at Castle Windward, twenty-five years ago, while a blizzard whirled outside and the only other heat came from a fire in the hearth.
Tonight, in the Ruby Palace, they barely noticed the rattle in the walls.
6
Firestorm
Roca's Pride rotated in space, huge and massive, a Firestorm battle cruiser, flagship of the Imperial Fleet. It was a cylinder ten kilometers long and one in diameter, capped by a half-sphere at one end and open to space at the other. A docking tube extended down the center, circled at intervals by huge rings. Spokes extended from the rings out to the cylinder's rim, allowing the ship to turn while its docking tube remained stationary. Gigantic thrusters circled the perimeter of the cylinder at its open end. Lights flashed across the hull, from the antennae, pods, cranes, flanges, and crawlers on its myriad surfaces.
As Soz's transport approached the Pride, she floated in its viewing bay and gazed at the gargantuan cruiser. A flotilla of smaller ships accompanied it: bristling destroyers and frigates; Starslammers and Thunderbolts; stinging Wasps and Scorpions; razor-edged Scythes; ram stealth tanks that appeared and then vanished; unfolding Jack-knives; Leos, Asps, and Cobras as deadly as their namesakes; bolts, masts, rafts, tugs, booms, blades, fists. Jag starfighters shot through the fleet, luminous and brilliant, the flotilla vanguard. It all
gleamed against the dazzling backdrop of interstellar space, the spumes of nebulae and stars in red, blue, gold, and white. The sight made Soz feel alive in a way she had never known before. She was part of this great universe, a tiny speck against its unbearable grandeur.
Roca's Pride grew on her view screen until the open end loomed before them, each of its thrusters many times the size of the transport ship. The end of the docking tube opened like a bud unfurling its petals. Soz could imagine power thrumming through the tube, the cruiser, the entire flotilla. The transport sailed into the pod, tiny against its immense doors. They closed around the ship and cut off her view of the stars.
A voice came from behind her. "Ready?"
Soz drifted around to see Secondary Tapperhaven floating in the hatchway. The older woman's short, dark hair stirred around her face. The sight of her DMA instructor relieved Soz. Tapperhaven was as tough as case-hardened steel, but she was also fair. She would continue Soz's training as the Imperial Heir during this tour.
"Ma'am! Yes, ma'am." Soz saluted while
"Now I am." Only she could get away with calling him Eldri; to everyone else, he was Eldrinson. It bemused Roca's people, who couldn't understand why the father was Eldrinson and the son Eldrin. Well, he hardly intended to saddle his firstborn with the name Eldrinsonson. In the tradition of his people, they alternated generations with the word "son." His father had been Eldrin, he was Eldrinson, and his son was Eldrin. He had hoped Eldrin would continue the tradition, but having two Eldrinsons alive at the same time was just too confusing.
He brushed his finger over her lips. He had gone for a year without touching his wife, during that time he had refused to see his family. Since then, they had been making up for the lost nights. Even knowing she would come right back tonight, it disquieted him when she left. He had been without her for too long.
"Kurj's EI will let him know I am fine." He tugged on her arm and murmured, "You should stay here."
"I thought you were tired." She was smiling, though. She lay down next to him.
He pulled her into an embrace. "I need my medicine. You."
The Skolian doctors could have their hospitals and machines. Roca did more for him than they had ever managed.
She smoothed his hair back from his face, her hands gende but sensuous. They undressed in the dim light from a lamp on the nightstand. She was a balm in his arms, then a temptress, then fire. They made love as they had the first night they spent at Castle Windward, twenty-five years ago, while a blizzard whirled outside and the only other heat came from a fire in the hearth.
Tonight, in the Ruby Palace, they barely noticed the rattle in the walls.
6
Firestorm
Roca's Pride rotated in space, huge and massive, a Firestorm battle cruiser, flagship of the Imperial Fleet. It was a cylinder ten kilometers long and one in diameter, capped by a half-sphere at one end and open to space at the other. A docking tube extended down the center, circled at intervals by huge rings. Spokes extended from the rings out to the cylinder's rim, allowing the ship to turn while its docking tube remained stationary. Gigantic thrusters circled the perimeter of the cylinder at its open end. Lights flashed across the hull, from the antennae, pods, cranes, flanges, and crawlers on its myriad surfaces.
As Soz's transport approached the Pride, she floated in its viewing bay and gazed at the gargantuan cruiser. A flotilla of smaller ships accompanied it: bristling destroyers and frigates; Starslammers and Thunderbolts; stinging Wasps and Scorpions; razor-edged Scythes; ram stealth tanks that appeared and then vanished; unfolding Jack-knives; Leos, Asps, and Cobras as deadly as their namesakes; bolts, masts, rafts, tugs, booms, blades, fists. Jag starfighters shot through the fleet, luminous and brilliant, the flotilla vanguard. It all
gleamed against the dazzling backdrop of interstellar space, the spumes of nebulae and stars in red, blue, gold, and white. The sight made Soz feel alive in a way she had never known before. She was part of this great universe, a tiny speck against its unbearable grandeur.
Roca's Pride grew on her view screen until the open end loomed before them, each of its thrusters many times the size of the transport ship. The end of the docking tube opened like a bud unfurling its petals. Soz could imagine power thrumming through the tube, the cruiser, the entire flotilla. The transport sailed into the pod, tiny against its immense doors. They closed around the ship and cut off her view of the stars.
A voice came from behind her. "Ready?"
Soz drifted around to see Secondary Tapperhaven floating in the hatchway. The older woman's short, dark hair stirred around her face. The sight of her DMA instructor relieved Soz. Tapperhaven was as tough as case-hardened steel, but she was also fair. She would continue Soz's training as the Imperial Heir during this tour.
"Ma'am! Yes, ma'am." Soz saluted while
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