Chapter Two
An hour or so later, I was having dinner, enjoying a ranyon steak, cooked very rare, with a delicious blood sauce, thickened with black flour and spiced with hot Jayronian peppers, when I saw Prince Mikos walk in.
He had his consort with him, the one he referred to as Colonel Ryan, though it was no secret his rank was a courtesy only, as the good-looking human hadn’t been an actual colonel of the Alliance army in a long time.
He was a beloved royal nobyo, though, and his power over the prince was ignored at one’s own peril.
He was probably the only one, other than Mikos’s parents, that the prince ever deferred to in any meaningful way.
Mikos and his consort took a seat at a table near the windows, which were specialized, highly immersive screens rather than actual windows to the outside of the ship.
They were made with traditional materials, designed to simulate a direct view of deep space, “simulate” being the operative word.
In other words, they weren’t really holes cut into the hull of the ship, but it was a nice illusion and presented an accurate view of the planet below us.
Some smaller ships did have port holes but not star cruisers like this one.
These screens were synchronized with the ship's journey to show our location and consistent, real-time visuals that corresponded to our location at any given point.
Currently, there was a view of Moravia below us, because we were in orbit around it—a planet roughly the same size as Tygeria, though not nearly as well populated.
The planet is marbled with clouds, resembling Earth, although much larger.
It was a mottled gray color, both because of its massive oceans and its gray skies, which, along with its atmosphere, gave the planet its appearance from space.
It gave me a little twinge of envy to watch Prince Mikos with his consort.
I had married young too, like Prince Mikos, though my mate, Merik, had been another Tygerian warrior.
We had both been eighteen cycles old when we married, and he had been killed in battle only a short time later, just before his nineteenth birthday.
Since we had bonded, it had been difficult for me in the extreme, and only my wish to honor his sacrifice had kept me going.
The fact that the bonding was not long-standing probably helped save me from joining him.
That and my two brothers, who managed between them to make sure I was never alone for the first quarter cycle, at least.
Not long after his death a treaty had been signed, and I had a hard time accepting it at first. I wasn’t ready to make peace, and I saw no reason to grant the human aggressors any kind of pity or quarter.
I was still very angry back then. And though I was no longer suicidal, I remained angry for a long time.
I still didn’t care for humans much, though I had to make exceptions for the consorts of the king and the crown prince.
Eventually, I came to terms with the peace, though, and I saw the wisdom in signing the treaty.
I devoted myself to the service of the king and his family, and I had been chosen as one of the first members of the Imperial Guards—a great honor.
I was now a general officer in Prince Mikos’s service and reported directly to him.
I glanced up as a human approached my table, wearing a dark uniform that marked him as an aide to the Prince’s Consort, Ryan.
He was coming slowly, clearing his throat as he got closer, making sure that I saw him coming well in advance.
It was not necessary to be so careful, though I knew that he was new to the consort’s service.
He had no doubt been warned against surprising an Imperial soldier.
Some Imperials did startle easily, especially if they had only recently returned from one of the continuing military skirmishes that marred the current political climate.
But it was only a few, and they recovered quickly.
Imperial soldiers were too well trained to allow battle trauma to affect them for long.
Most Tygerians didn’t fear death, because we believed that our fates were already written and if it were our time to die, then we would.
There was thus no need to fear it, as we would go to the paradise set aside for the warriors who perished in battle—surely the best of all fates.
If it wasn’t our time, then nothing the enemy did could adversely affect us in any way.
On the other hand, it was never easy to watch your friends and comrades be killed beside you, or to hold their hand as they died, so they’d know they weren’t alone.
Small rebellions had never really stopped in all the years since the war, but recently there had been a slight upsurge in the ones that still plagued the more remote areas of the galaxy.
Moravia had even been very slightly involved in the so-called Coalition of Planets that tried to stage a small revolt recently—in that the king of Moravia, who was married to our Prince Vannos had unwisely attended a meeting or two with the group.
He had quickly realized their true purpose and stopped his visits, but there had been some tension with Tygeria over even that peripheral involvement. In short, he should have known better.
I believed it was one reason that King Davos had agreed to this “meeting” here with three of his sons.
Perhaps he would take the opportunity to impress upon the Moravian king how unwise it was to give even the impression of disloyalty to Tygeria.
The king’s son, Prince Larz, needed to learn this same lesson.
Prince Mikos had been urging his father to take action against Laltana and Prince Larz for some time for numerous infractions against the imposition of Tygerian military rule in place of civilian government on Laltana.
Davos had imposed the new laws on them long ago and had placed Larz in charge of things.
Gradually, however, Prince Larz had dismissed the Tygerian military and sent them back home, replacing them with his own Herkon “Royal Guard,” that he deployed all over the planet Laltana.
Davos hadn’t wanted to fight him on it, but Prince Mikos insisted that Davos’s original orders be restored.
As a result, Davos had decided to send in an Imperial Guard to handle things until they came back in line.
That had caused Prince Larz to get angry and leave Laltana, taking his small army with him. When King Davos forbade him to go, he went anyway, saying—in response to Prince Mikos’s charge of him acting in a treasonous manner—“Hang me then.”
He had come to Moravia now, and King Davos and Prince Mikos were most anxious to meet with him and sort out this stubborn and willful behavior, as they should.
“General Vargarra,” the young human said as he stopped beside me and bowed. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but His Highness, Prince Mikos, and the Consort Ryan request the honor of your presence at their table when you finish your meal.”
I looked him up and down and then inclined my head. “Inform their Highnesses that I’ll be right there.”
****
Ryan Donnelly, Consort to Prince Mikos
The aide I’d sent over to General Vargarra’s table nodded to the general and then bowed his way back from the table after he spoke to him.
He was both young and good looking, and I wondered how long I’d be able to keep him before he left my service to marry one of the many handsome Tygerian Imperials.
It seemed sometimes that they were selected to be an Imperial based primarily on their looks, and they all seemed to prefer humans.
Human lovers were still popular on Tygeria, even with the Imperials.
Some might say especially so, as they worked so closely with me and Blake, and they always seemed to admire how we looked, if their long, smoldering glances at us were any indication.
They were far too well-trained to say or do anything flirtatious, of course.
They’d die first. And we were much too old for them anyway.
Most of them were the age of my son, Mikol.
The king’s youngest son, Rakkur, was half-human and looked it, as Blake hadn’t been able to take the drugs to suppress his DNA while he was pregnant with Rakkur.
He was very good looking, had recently married one of the Imperial colonels, not all that long ago, in fact.
The colonel had lost no time and Rakkur had already produced twins with blond hair and pretty blue eyes like his —two fine, strong sons, who, despite having some human features, still looked far more Tygerian than human.
They would no doubt break a lot of hearts someday before they married.
I glanced back over at General Vargarra, possibly the best looking and therefore most gossiped about Imperial in Mikos’s service.
He was incredibly handsome, in his manly way, and he was single, too, or more correctly, a widower.
He was considered to be one of the most eligible men on Tygeria.
Everyone wondered when or even if he might marry again, because as a rule, Tygerian widowers never took another mate.
He had lost his mate at a very early age, however, after only a few months of marriage, and most people said that was the only way he’d survived.
These Tygerians took their matings very seriously.