Circle Complete

by Echo Dancer

Final book in trilogy of Archangel and alien Emperor Ztar. Will Warren's sacrifices pay off? When can he go home? An old enemy rises. The bumpy road to a freer Empire continues. Twists, turns, and some 'steamy windows.' Warning: Male/Male relationship.

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Welcome to Circle Complete, the third book in the trilogy tale of Archangel and Emperor Ztar. If you haven't read the previous two books, Sacrifice (part one) and Esserru (part two), I strongly encourage you to do so. Heads up – these are not quick reads. Each book is a full novel, but I hope the stories are worth the investment of time.

A quick warning – the trilogy involves a male/male relationship, although Archangel is straight. If that sort of thing bothers you, then you may wish to skip over the steamy parts or take a pass altogether.

Also, the Archangel of my story is pre-X-Force, where I understand that he can transform between Archangel and Death. In these stories, Warren is in his original form having moved past the blue skin/steel wings phase.

A quick overview. In Sacrifice, alien Emperor Ztar, ruler of the Turzent Empire, forced Archangel into his service using Earth's freedom as the ax above Archangel's head to ensure total submission to the Emperor's will. In Esserru, Warren's life with the Emperor continued to evolve culminating in a decision Warren never believed he'd make of his own free will.

As Circle Complete begins, it is five months after Esserru ends and Warren has been Ztar's companion for five-plus Earth years. In this final story, Warren's conflicts continue over the path he chose and where his sacrifices will ultimately lead. Ztar's internal struggles also persist, as do the challenges he faces while the realm he built transitions from a dictatorship to a more democratic government. And an old enemy re-emerges just to add to the fun.

Disclaimers and Pleas: I don't own Archangel or any X-man character. I do own Emperor Ztar and all the others. I make no money from this story and never will.

My plea is for feedback – any feedback. Whether you're reading this story as soon as published or a year later, your thoughts and reflections will brighten my day. So please post a review – whether long or short.

Thank you in advance for sharing my make-believe world for it's in that sharing the characters truly come alive.

Echo Dancer

"When you write from the soul, the pen moves itself."

###

"Circle Complete"

Five Months Earlier…

The request seemed reasonable enough. "…Please send all data files regarding the case of Wynnar-Qxani Disease in the patient known as Archangel to Director Plephner Esiar, Fjai Medical Research Facility. Your prompt response to this request is most sincerely appreciated as we continue our search for a cure."

Researchers working on the virus wished to examine exactly how Archangel was able to overcome the virus in its flow-blown stage. Wynnar-Qxani is fatal in 99.99% of the cases. Archangel was the only known survivor currently alive.

Although well contained outside its native star system, the disease was still enough of a threat to warrant significant research expenditure. Victims contracted the virus through blood-to-blood exchange. After the initial exposure, the virus multiples within the body, somehow avoiding detection by the host's immune system. Aside from reproducing, in all other ways the virus is inactive and the victim has no idea they are infected. It attaches itself to the nervous system and waits. Once triggered, the virus emerges from its dormant stage and the infected dies rapidly as it quickly destroys the nervous system.

He considered the pros and cons of the request. Fjai's reputation in medical study and research was without reproach. One of their pet projects was eradicating Wynnar-Qxani. In addition, Fjai already had quite a bit of medical data on Archangel from when he had contacted them hoping beyond hope they could help him save the Emperor's companion. Sending the balance of the data would only augment what Fjai already had.

Therefore, Chenro Vozeipar'de, Emperor Ztar's personal physician, had no qualms about sending the files. As a bonus, he included his hypothesis on why Archangel had survived – the nannites, which were possibly triggered and powered by Ztar's energy field. As the data went on its way, he got up from his desk with professional satisfaction that he may have in some small way contributed to an eventual cure for the W-Q virus.

Had he been able to somehow follow his missive through the complex workings of the highly secure interstellar comlink system, Physician Vozeipar'de would have been far less pleased. Both the request and the response were cloned in transit through a stealth subroutine. The original messages arrived at their intended destinations while the clones went another way altogether and no one was the wiser, except those who had clandestinely installed the extremely complex cloning routine into the comlink system.

### --- ###

Turzent Emperor Ztar wanted to let off some steam. He and the human had argued again, for the third time that week. Sometimes Archangel was so damn bitchy! It was a term he'd learned from the man and it fit the situation perfectly. Day by day, little by little, he suspected his companion's true personality was coming through. Now that the human was free to stay or go, he was obviously becoming comfortable enough to be himself. Ztar wasn't sure he liked what he was seeing.

A few months earlier, Ztar freed the human for all practical purposes from the Turzent/Earth Accord that had bound and subjugated Archangel to him for nearly five Imperial years to protect Earth's autonomy and its peoples' liberty. In what he could only call a miracle, Archangel decided to stay with Ztar. When Archangel fully comprehended all his newfound freedom meant a few days after Ztar released him, Sukja warned Ztar they'd argue. His aide had gone so far as to offer his couch should Ztar be tossed from the bedchambers. At the time, Ztar hadn't thought there would be quite so much butting of heads. Archangel's strong will was definitely rearing up. And Archangel dared to complain Ztar was stubborn!

That morning's fight was about something trivial. Ztar offered Archangel some pointers on how Sukja used to perform a task recently delegated to the human. Archangel blew. Again. He was trying to be helpful, Ztar had attempted to explain rationally. "Same old nitpicking!" Archangel labeled it with verbal venom. "Sukja's perfect and I'm not" was the next accusation. Perhaps Archangel was heading into another molt with all its irrational irritability. With the human's body clock so confused from the change of planets and the stresses from the past year, there was no telling when that might happen again.

Three meaningless arguments in as many days and Ztar needed to direct his growing annoyance at something before he really blew. The only question was at what. He headed out of the palace at a brisk pace toward the open countryside. A few well-placed energy blasts at some defenseless rocks might relieve the tension. The Emperor nearly crackled with energy as he strode away from the manicured grounds.

###

Warren wanted to kick some ass, but there was no danger room at the palace. The Emperor was completely intolerable this week. Nothing Warren did was exactly right. Bitch, bitch. Moan, moan. Only a saint could bear it. 'What was I thinking when I agreed to stay? This healing Ztar business wasn't supposed to include enduring the whining of a spoiled brat!' Warren fumed as he flew above the Imperial Valley on the planet Sat'rey where Ztar's palace resided.

Then there was the control thing. Ztar wanted to make all the decisions, right down to where they ate dinner – their chambers, the patio, or balcony. Warren felt kept. It was growing more infuriating by the day.

As he cut through the late afternoon air with sharp movements, he pushed himself to the limit – flat out speed, quick course changes, sudden stops, and tricky maneuvers. He had worked up a sweat even in the cool winter air by the time he saw the small explosion from half way across the Imperial Valley. Sharp vision told him it was Ztar. What was he up to? He turned and headed toward the action. As Warren came in closer, Ztar let another barrage loose at nothing but the landscape. Apparently Warren wasn't the only one blowing off steam.

"Those rocks must have really pissed you off," Warren jabbed as he alighted a distance away from the shimmering Turzent.

Ztar ignored the human. This was his time to be alone and an audience was not welcome, especially not the source of his aggravation.

Warren walked toward Ztar. "Ah, the silent treatment – always so mature," he said with reigniting exasperation.

Ztar shot a quick, lethal look at the human. "Perhaps there's another target you would suggest?"

The Emperor's meaning was not lost on Warren and it made him burn. "Let's do it, right here. I'm looking to kick some butt today!"

Ztar was surprised. Was Archangel serious? "I'm not fighting you," he said flatly, crossing his arms.

"Why not? Afraid I'll beat you?" Warren taunted, halting a few feet in front of the Emperor. The shimmering was fading as Ztar apparently let the built-up energy leach off.

"Not likely."

"Not likely if you use telepathy. But if you don't, I'll kick your ass in less than two minutes." Warren goaded with confidence.

"You're not serious."

"I am. I'm in need of a workout partner and you're definitely someone liked like to punch out a few times." Warren snapped his wings to drive home the point, crossing his own arms.

Ztar was uncertain what to do. Archangel was challenging him to a fight, yet it felt so…unroyal. Perhaps his beautiful Archangel was a little more of a warrior than Ztar had realized, even after knowing the human for five years. Still, a physical confrontation held its appeals. It had been awhile…

"Come on, almighty emperor, show me what you've got." Warren crouched, spreading his wings slowly into attack position. "I'm going to wipe up the valley floor with your sorry ass." This was going to feel so-o-o good!

"If I can't use my telepathy, you must surrender an ability also," Ztar wanted the rules of engagement to be understood and he would not be handicapped unequally.

"No flying. My feet stay firmly planted on the ground."

###

Lar had sent his usual scout to keep an eye on the Emperor while he took his frustrations out on the rocks and plant life. It was nothing new – the Emperor had done so before when mounting aggravations needed an outlet. The man was crouched behind his blind, watching the confrontation with intense interest. Archangel was a new twist. He couldn't hear any of the conversation, but the Emperor's companion looked decidedly hostile.

###

"This may actually be quite fun, my Archangel, since I can't really damage you too badly. You'll heal quickly from my trouncing," Ztar taunted, the old battle-itch beginning to grow.

"In your dreams!" and Warren sprung without warning directly at the Turzent. He lied. His feet did come off the ground when he jumped with powerful legs, but his wings he kept neatly at his sides.

Their bodies collided with enough force that Ztar was staggered backwards. Warren rammed a fist deep into the Turzent's abdomen and he heard a satisfying groan. Just as he caught the back of Ztar's knee with his foot to knock the man's leg out from under him, Ztar grabbed his arm and flung him several feet to the side. Warren landed with a whoomph on the hard ground in a cloud of dust while Ztar managed to keep his footing. 'Damn! Ztar's taking this seriously.'

###

The man on the knoll commed the security office. "Sir, we have an incident out here."

Back at the palace, Head of Palace Security Cronit Lar was instantly concerned. "What kind of incident?"

"The Emperor and Archangel…they're fighting."

Lar was relieved. He'd gotten reports of the two men arguing a number of times now. Palace gossip was very quick to spread around anything regarding the Emperor and his companion. "Is that all? Not worth reporting, Reboct."

"No, sir. I mean they're fighting! As in hitting each other."

"Drods!" Lar swore in his native language into the comm. Now what? He knew about Archangel's healing ability, so he wasn't too concerned about the human. But his Emperor? Yet Ztar was a tough, full-blooded Turzent – it took a lot to seriously injure that species. And the man used to be in the military, had his energy blasts, telepathy, and his augmented strength. Yes, Ztar could take care of himself. Lar sat back in his chair and relaxed.

"Sir, what do you want me to do?" the scout asked, concern coming through the comm.

"Enjoy the show," Lar replied looking forward to a detailed report from Reboct later.

###

When Warren hit the ground, it knocked the wind out of him. He had to admit, Ztar's quick move surprised him – the Turzent was not to be underestimated. Rolling immediately to his feet, he lunged at his target again. Ztar attempted to sidestep this time, but Warren anticipated the move and landed a quick punch to the Emperor's side. Then for good measure, he nailed him in back with a sharp elbow as momentum carried him pass the Turzent. The Emperor exhaled sharply and staggered from the impacts, but remained standing.

Warren swung around and was going for a grab from behind when Ztar's energy field suddenly flared and engulfed him. Liquid fire ran over his body, at least that's what it felt like. He let out a yelp and jumped back out of the field. "No fucking fair! This was to be without powers!"

"You said no telepathy. Nothing was mentioned of my energy field," Ztar grinned fiendishly, as he turned to the human.

Warren groaned internally – the Emperor was right. He never believed Ztar would use his bio-energy against him. Obviously, he was wrong. "I guess if you need to resort to that, you can use your goddamn energy field!" Warren leaned over and moaned as if in pain, which he actually was, but he exaggerated it. Ztar hesitated out of apparent concern for his companion and Warren wasn't about to let that go unrewarded. With lighting speed he took advantage of Ztar's uncertainty, scooping up and throwing a handful of dirt directly into Turzent's face. While the Emperor recoiled from the dirt in the eyes, Warren lunged directly at his mid-section with as much strength as his body contained.

'I fell for that old trick?!' Ztar was incredulous at himself as he landed hard, the air expelled from his lungs, and several small rocks found their mark across his back. 'Out of practice.' Ztar tried grabbing the human again, but he eluded Ztar's blind reach as tears ran from his eyes.

Warren quickly slid off Ztar, leveraged himself and landed one solid punch to Ztar's jaw when the fire spread over his body again. "Goddamn son of a bitch!" His muscles contracted involuntarily from the assault as he tried to ignore the excruciating pain. He knew he'd heal from whatever the energy was doing to him physically, but it hurt like hell!

The Emperor took advantage of the partial paralysis his energy field was causing in Archangel, snared him by the front of his shirt and threw him head over heels a couple dozen feet across the valley floor. He'd used those seconds it took Archangel to recover to clear his eyes of the dirt. 'Archangel fights dirty – literally!'

Both men got to their feet at the same time, Ztar rubbing his jaw and blinking away the remnants of sand and Warren trying to shake off the effects of the bio-energy. "Your right hook is still a mean one," Ztar complimented with a smile. He was enjoying himself. The physical outlet felt good. He moved in on his target leisurely, ignoring the smarting at the various impact points.

"I can show you more, if you admire it so much," Warren grinned back. Despite the remnants of pain and momentary paralysis, he was enjoying the roughhousing. It felt like the good ol' days in the danger room.

This time, Ztar lunged first. The Turzent's move was fast, but Warren was faster. Dodging with ease, he nailed Ztar in the back once again as the Emperor's body flew past him. Ztar grunted, but then surprised Warren by turning sharply to grab a handful of wing and yanked sideways and downward. Warren was literally pulled off his feet and fell backward to the ground with a thud. The pain shot across his back and wing joints with the impact on the hard ground and moaned loudly. 'Damn! Quicker than I thought!'

"Wings make good grab handles," Ztar said chuckling as his companion hit the dirt again.

As lightening fast as his reflexes were, Warren didn't quite escape Ztar's move to come down on top of him, the Emperor straddling his hips. "Yield!" Ztar demanded, grabbing one of Warren's arms in a fierce grip; the other he managed to keep free. Warren almost decided against it, but seeing how Ztar had literally opened himself up to the move…

When Archangel's free fist came down on his groin, pain shot through him like nothing he'd experienced in a long time. Doubling over, he could do little when Archangel shoved him off. The human jumped to his feet, he leaned over the curled Emperor. "I can't believe you made such an amateur's mistake!"

Neither could Ztar. 'Stupid!'

###

"Reboct, report." Lar's voice came over the comm.

"I think the Emperor made a serious miscalculation. He's on the ground."

"Really?" Lar was surprised. He knew the human was a warrior on his home planet, but Ztar was a formidable opponent.

###

Ztar's Turzent body was tough and he recovered more quickly than Archangel obviously anticipated from the look of surprise when Ztar scissor-cut his legs out from under him.

Warren felt the impact to his ankles and instinctively the wings spread wide as he toppled forward and beat once to grab air to keep upright. 'Now who's getting sloppy!' he chided himself.

As Archangel fought to stay vertical, Ztar reached out and grabbed one extended arm, pulling Archangel down atop him face to face. He wrapped one arm around Archangel's back to restrain him and the other behind the head. In another quick move, he took Archangel's mouth into his in a savage kiss. 'Yes, I'm enjoying this more and more,' the Emperor commented silently.

Warren struggled at first, then allowed the Emperor to have his prize. He'd concede the brief fight.

###

"Sir," Reboct commed security, "the situation has been resolved."

"What's happening?"

"They're kissing, sir."

Lar smiled. "That'll be all, Reboct. Return to the palace."

###

When Ztar finally released Archangel's mouth, he looked into his companion's crystalline-blue eyes. "Good move, that last one, don't you agree?" he congratulated himself.

Ztar's face was coated with dirt and Warren attempted to wipe some off, laughing because he only made it worse from the dirt on his hands. "The lip-lock maneuver or the one before that?" feeling the grit in his mouth as he spoke.

"Now that you mention it, both were rather impressive."

Warren looked into the dirty but handsome face. Mischief still twinkled in the large, dark chocolate brown, whiteless eyes – 'puppy dog eyes' some of the female X-men would have labeled them. Then he got up and held a hand out to the Turzent. Once the man was upright, Warren leaped into the air. "First one back to the palace gets the shower!" and he was off like a dart.

All Ztar could do was laugh aloud and start walking.

###

By the time he got back to the palace, Ztar knew exactly his retribution. There would be no escape. 'Paybacks are hell,' as he heard Archangel exclaim one occasion and liked the phrase. This was going to be thoroughly enjoyable! He smiled with anticipation.

The roughhousing in the valley had energized him and was an aspect of their relationship he wanted to explore further. Could they be sparring partners regularly? Now that he'd gotten a taste, Ztar wanted more. And perhaps this could be another step in their deepening relationship – another way to bond. He hoped that was the case.

Then he heard the door slide open.

Warren finished showering, still smirking at leaving Ztar open-mouthed and covered in dust and dirt out in the valley. He had the last laugh with that one! Flapping his wings to shed water – those had been hard to rid of the ground-in dirt and it took time. Warren allowed himself the immature satisfaction of making the Emperor wait quite awhile for the bathroom. He dried the rest of himself before wrapping the towel around his waist. 'Much better!' he thought, loving the feel of being squeaky clean once again. He opened the bathroom door to head to his wardrobe for equally clean clothes, preferably a comfy pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Warren made it one step beyond the doorway when he was blindsided.

In one swift movement, Ztar was next to the human, one arm behind Archangel's back just below the wings and the other behind his knees, then all he had to do was lift and three quick paces they were at the bed. "What the-?" were the only words the human could get out before Ztar had him pinned beneath his strong body on the bed.

He grinned down wickedly at his companion. "Thought you could just leave me out there with no repercussions?"

"Ztar, for God's sake, let me up. You're dirty and sweaty and I just showered!" The words were harsh, but the empathic connection told Ztar the human was only startled, not angry.

"Exactly. Now you're going to get all dirty again," he warned just as he came down seductively on the perfect mouth.

Warren struggled, but the Turzent was firmly planted atop him. In spite of Warren's own mutant strength, he was no match for Ztar's augmented power. 'Ztar apparently liked our little battle,' Warren concluded with amusement as the kiss deepened. 'Picking up where we left off!'

He brought his knees up on either side of Ztar to get more leverage. Lust radiated off the man and mingled with the scent of sweat and desert sand. Then without warning, something happened that hadn't for many weeks. Part of him was back in that terrorist's cell, lying on the filthy pad on the floor, one of Drex's men on him. Remembered pain, the smell of sweat and sex, the humiliation and horror tried to wrest hold of his mind. 'No! Not real…not now!' he yelled at himself. As vivid memory threatened to overpower reality, he struggled to maintain control while shielding Ztar from the episode; nearly an impossible feat given the telepath's empathic link with him, but he was determined. He squelched the fear and dread as best he could, focusing on the man still kissing him and the feel of Ztar's hands on his body. Ztar's hands, not a terrorist's. Warren kept repeating the Turzent's name in his mind. 'This is Ztar. Ztar.' Then as quickly as it had formed, the flashback evaporated and Warren let out a sigh into Ztar's mouth.

The Emperor felt an exhale from his companion and then realized there were odd emotions filling the empathic link. Ztar jerked up and looked into Archangel's eyes. "Archangel?"

Warren shook off the last vestiges of episode and immediately took advantage of Ztar's distraction – it would help divert attention from the near flashback. Using all his strength, he rose up one hip to put Ztar off balance, adding a strong shove with his arm to the Turzent's shoulder, he continued to push with all his might to dislodge his captor. He almost succeeded. It worked, though, to redirect Ztar's attention.

Ztar laughed, grabbing Archangel's wrists as the smaller man tried to dismount him. "You've been captured, my prey. Yield…again!"

"You're getting dirt on the bed, Ztar. You can strip it – I'm not having housekeeping clean up after you," Warren threatened in feigned irritation, trying to free his wrists.

"There's only one thing I'm stripping and it's not the bed." Letting go of one wrist, Ztar grabbed and yanked Archangel's towel away.

"Hey!" Warren protested. Ztar ran his still dust-coated hand over Warren's chest, shoulder, and onto the left wing. "Double hey! Do you know how hard it was getting the dirt out of the feathers? Now," Warren looked to his wing where a brown streak was clearly visible on the damp, white feathers, "I'll have to clean them all over again."

Ztar laughed heartily. Archangel spoke as if perturbed, but Ztar felt the amusement through their connection. "Then I'll have to help with that," Ztar offered in a suggestive tone. Not once in the five years they'd been together had they shared a shower. It just hadn't been something Ztar particularly wished to do – a cultural thing actually. Turzents had a clear separation in their psyche between sex and grooming rituals. Even when he helped Archangel preen his feathers, Ztar never once crossed that line no matter how aroused he became at the intimate contact. But now, perhaps, it was something he wanted to explore.

Ztar's comment got Warren's full attention. 'That's new,' he thought, not so sure he wanted to go there. Warren had been quite happy with Ztar's unspoken decision not to co-shower. Now that may be changing. Should he give another piece of himself to the Turzent? Xavier's words of warning came back to him – "Don't lose yourself to Ztar." He decided to ignore the comment for now.

The lack of response spoke volumes to Ztar, as he leaned down to take another kiss from his lover. He focused on the empathic connection and the emotions were decidedly not in his favor. 'Let it go,' he told himself. 'Archangel has already given you so much.' He was actually pleased with himself for that decision as it placed the human's wishes ahead of his own, something he knew he must remember to do with regularity. It would be so easy to take advantage of Archangel's commitment to help Ztar heal emotionally; to push him into giving more than he should.

And so Ztar focused instead on igniting sexual heat in his companion, running his hands up and down the perfect body, caressing all the right spots. He trailed his lips from Archangel's, down the neck and to his chest, while his fingertips tickled and tantalized a wing, causing it to quiver. Ztar shifted to run his mouth across the wing and took a deep inhale. He loved the smell of the damp feathers – they smelled slightly of animal and old, favorite blanket. Ztar found it both soothing and erotic. Archangel spread the wing wide, a sign that Ztar was doing the right things. The sound of feathers moving across the bed sparked intense desire in him. 'Such a little thing and I'm on fire!' By the gods, he loved his companion.

Warren closed his eyes and melted into the erotic pleasures Ztar was bestowing on him. 'God, he does things to me no one else can.' Ztar swept him away; filled Warren with such fire that he'd often thought he'd burst into flames. What never failed to amaze him was that another man could do this to him despite Warren's heterosexual nature. But good sex is good sex – a great sex is even better. That was all he could conclude. And sex with Ztar was beyond anything he'd experienced prior. As Ztar combed his fingers through the feathers, Warren moaned with the ripples of sensual delight that simple motion elicited. He put a hand to each side of Ztar's face and turned it to look him in the eyes. "You've ruined me for anyone to follow. No one else will ever measure up. You know that, right?" Warren asked with a salacious grin.

Ztar looked into the blue eyes now darkened with lust. "All part of the plan," he admitted, almost too honestly.

Warren brought the Turzent's mouth down to his, entwining their tongues for a brief dance. Pulling back, he nipped the man's lips and brushed his mouth past the cheek and nuzzled the Turzent's neck. He entangled his fingers in Ztar's thick, crimson-black hair and held on as Ztar's skilled hand found that special place at the wing base where Warren could be driven nearly to orgasm with the right touch. Ztar knew that touch very well – he'd invented it – and Warren's whole body shuddered with delightful arousal that raced through his body all the way to his toes. "Oh, god…" escaped his lips. Just that quick, Warren burst into flames. He wanted to be taken now.

Their connection was on fire and Ztar knew Archangel wanted to move things along. Many times he would not, preferring to draw out the sex as long as possible, but today he'd accommodate Archangel's urgent need. First, just a little more fire stoking…

A few strong tugs on his clothes and they were literally ripped from Ztar's body and his tailor's work was once again tossed to the floor in tatters. Ztar ran his hand down between their bodies to where this would go soon and his massaged and coddled with exquisite results. Archangel moaned beneath him as the human's fingers dug deeply into his forearm.

Warren lapsed quickly into the state where nothing existed beyond the bed and Ztar. It was rapturous and he sank into it wholly. Then he returned Ztar's favor and escalated the desire in the Turzent. Ztar's moans and gentle tremors signaled Warren's success. When Ztar lowered himself down on Warren's chest once again, Warren whispered urgently the words he knew Ztar loved to hear. "Take me."

Archangel could say those two words or a variation thereof a hundred thousand times and Ztar believed he would never stop marveling at them. After everything between them, his companion was surrendering to him willingly. It filled a need so deep, so intense that Ztar had no words to describe it. He came down for a kiss of gratitude and then shifted his lover to take him as requested. Gently at first, and then more powerfully, driving deep into the man who made Ztar's life complete. He reveled in the carnal pleasure of plunging in and out of his beloved, never wanting it to stop.

Nature had been kind to Turzents, giving both sexes natural lubrication; nothing artificial needed for same-sex pairings. It was one of the many factors leading to Turzent psyche and culture never developing taboos relating to gender in sexual pairings. Same-gender, opposite-gender – it was all the same in their eyes. Ztar had learned humans, on the other hand, usually had strong gender preferences.

When Ztar came inside his companion, that recollection flickered through his mind, re-enforcing how much Archangel put aside for Ztar's sake. Archangel was same-sex oriented and nothing would ever change that. The knowing served to push Ztar harder to make their time together in the bedchamber as blissful and rewarding for the human as Ztar was capable. And Ztar was very capable. The moans and empathic signals coming from his companion told Ztar he'd done everything right once again, and he smiled down on the beautiful being beneath him as he continued to ride his lover.

The feel of Ztar's penetration left him shuddering in relief and anticipation. Ztar's entry was smooth and steady, allowing Warren's body time to accommodate the very large Turzent. Once Ztar was fully embedded, the exquisite thrusting could begin. Warren was building to climax, but as was typical, his body seemed to wait for Ztar's. Yet Ztar was apparently in no hurry, no matter how urgently needful Warren was. So Warren grasped Ztar's arms, closed his eyes, and let Ztar ride him for as long as the Turzent wished, wrapped in the ever-increasing intensity of the sensations surging through him. The rhythmic thrusts and their heavy breathing synched up and quickened.

The thrusting found his sweet spot. Warren gasped and his body clamped down around the Emperor's shaft. They groaned in unison as liquid heat ran through their groins. When Ztar spilled into him, his own body responded in kind. Warren dug his fingernails into Ztar's arms and shuddered in the sweet ecstasy of release.

Spent, Ztar laid down next to Archangel to catch his breath and recover. His hand found the human's, and he laced his fingers through Archangel's. It was something he hadn't done before and suddenly wondered why not. Then he turned on his side to face Archangel, careful not to hurt the wing partially beneath him. Gazing into the human's content face, he brushed a stray lock of hair from the flushed cheek.

Warren watched Ztar's eyes as they studied his own. Warm feelings enveloped him. He didn't love this man, but he did find himself caring more deeply for him with each passing month. It frightened Warren a little – the proverbial slippery slope?

Ztar picked up on the tender feelings mingled with a touch of…apprehension? Concern? Something subtle. It was the warmth that Ztar latched on to. If it could only be possible, by some miracle, that Archangel would grow to love him. Yet Ztar believed he had already received his share of miracles where Archangel was concerned. The simple fact that the human was here in his bed willingly was miracle enough.

"Have I said lately how much I love you?" he asked with a gentle smile and a brush of his thumb across the cheek.

Warren closed his eyes to focus on the afterglow of sex. "You have," he answered in a whisper.

Ztar wanted to ask if Archangel could ever love him, but he would not. That would likely never be, at least not the kind of love Ztar felt toward Archangel. Friendship love – perhaps that was possible. Ztar would gratefully take that if Archangel was willing.

"I'll keep saying it, just so you don't forget."

Warren shot his eyes open. "Oh, I won't forget. Just like all your sweet talk won't make me forget that you got me all dirty and sweaty again."

Ztar chuckled, moving off the feathers and running the back of his still somewhat dirty hand down the right wing, leaving another streak. "I said there would be repercussions for abandoning your Emperor."

"I think you're just a sore loser!" Warren said sitting up, locking eyes with Ztar.

"Loser?!" Ztar let shock fill his face as he returned Archangel's gaze. "I seem to recall trouncing you."

Warren slid from the bed. "Like hell you did! I let you win," he goaded.

Ztar sat up quickly. "There is no truth in your words, my Archangel."

"Besides, kissing an opponent is against all rules of engagement," Warren shot a quick scowl at Ztar as he headed for the bathroom. "You didn't fight fair."

Ztar leaped out of the bed realizing that Archangel was going to get there before him again. He wasn't fast enough.

"Ha! Beat you to it!" were Archangel's parting words as the door slid shut and locked.

Once again, all Ztar could do was laugh and shake his head.

### --- ###

Head Researcher Hercjell al'Verta was beyond pleased with her newest project. To have been selected over many of her long-time fellow scientists/rivals was a testament to her skills as a researcher and her savvy maneuverings to ensure she always shined in the eyes of her superiors even if that meant a few people got hurt along the way. Casualties of war, as she referred to them.

The PI in her office was loaded every piece of medical data they could obtain on the human called Archangel, birth name Warren Kenneth Worthington. The files from Ztar's personal physician, who also tended Archangel, were quite helpful. Etagllot intelligence had acquired those records when Ztar's physician transmitted them to Fjai. Even with the limited equipment in the palace infirmary, Physician Chenro Vozeipar'de managed to acquire an impressive amount of data. It was extremely unfortunate that his medical scanners went offline during Archangel's astonishing return from death. Had they not, they may have captured the bionites in action, if they indeed had been reawakened. 'Damn the luck anyway!' she muttered to herself.

Etagllot intelligence operatives had mined databases on Earth and came away with records on the human dating back to his birth through late childhood. Medical records through traditional sources then suddenly ceased. They hit the jackpot, though, when breaking into the well-protected databanks in a place referred to in the report as the Xavier Institute. The files contained an incredibly detailed medical history since the human's sixteenth Earth year of life through near present day. Whoever had been responsible for entering that data had given Hercjell a huge leg-up on her project. She could bypass many standard protocols for baselining new research subjects and dive right into the heart of the study.

What most interested Hercjell was the time following Archangel's impregnation with the bionites. From the Institute records, it was obvious much time had been spent attempting to unravel their technology, but with negligible results. She noted that since their original programming had been executed, the bionites were reported dormant and nothing had triggered them since. She also read with keen interest that the Shi'ar had attempted to rid the human of the bionites and the failure of that effort. Little else was recorded of that attempt. Hercjell would give much to obtain the Shi'ar files. The incident also drove home how advanced the bionite technology was if even the vaunted Shi'ar could not remove it. Hercjell had her work cut out for her.

The Par-Sen scientist sat back in her chair to digest what she had learned from studying the files for several hours. Based on all she read, reactivating the incredibly advanced technology was likely the only way to understand how it worked. However, despite numerous events that should have triggered the technology the bionites had remained dormant. That was going to be her biggest obstacle. Yet if Vozeipar'de was correct, there was a known trigger – Emperor Ztar's bio-field. Without highly detailed data on the Turzent's energy patterns, she had no way to replicate it. She could make educated guesses, but the project needed to show results quickly her superiors had informed her. No time to test energy pattern after energy pattern.

And so it came down to one logical conclusion – her research required both subjects. Obviously, that was not going to go over well. Acquiring the human would be difficult enough. Also kidnapping the Emperor would be a monumental feat.

She had confidence, though, in the resourcefulness of their organization. After all, they had survived Ztar's attempted genocide of their members years ago to rise up and flourish once again, albeit secretly of course. Many within the organization would find much satisfaction in Ztar becoming their research subject once again. It would be interesting to see if the orchestrator of the Etagllot's near extermination left her facility alive. But that wasn't her call or concern; she only needed him alive long enough to serve her needs.

With those thoughts, she let her mind wander back to when she first heard of the Etagllot. al'Verta had become frustrated with the established scientific community and its restrictions, safeguards, and rules on how to conduct projects, especially cutting-edge research. How could one be expected to produce results when at every turn another precaution, protocol, or restriction was erected? Frustrations grew as pressures to show return on investment mounted, as well as the consternations of colleagues for her willingness to take shortcuts.

Then the Etagllot approached her; so speaking to her ambitious nature with their liberal methods of accomplishing an end. They recognized her brilliance and acknowledged that traditional science didn't understand that breaking new frontiers sometimes meant breaking the rules. "Join us," they said, "and antiquated rules no longer apply to you. Your methods will rarely be questioned as long you show progress. You needn't grovel for funding from this time forward. All we ask is that you work with commitment and loyalty on the projects to which you are assigned. Place your trust in us, al'Verta, you will be assigned to projects that challenge and stretch you personally and professionally."

It was a dream come true! The price for membership to the exclusive club was a little steep, but she paid it willingly. She was to disappear and contact with the people of her former life forbidden. Since she had no strong family ties, she adjusted well. As she moved from project to project, she was challenged and threw herself into her work. al'Verta worked her way up the ladder, learning along the way that even in the Etagllot scientific organization, politicking and maneuverings were required to climb the ranks. Hercjell al'Verta had no qualms about playing the game and found she was very good at it. She climbed to the position of Assistant Head Researcher in near record time. The next rung on the ladder was a tad more of a reach, but she finally was assigned her own project and research team three years ago. Ymoz was her fourth project as Head Researcher and her most challenging thus far.

Much was riding on this project she was informed by the Prime Director for her branch of the organization, bio-technology. Hers was one project in a collection of on-going research programs all working independently but in unison for an unrevealed ultimate goal. That was all her security clearance would allow her superior to share. She was not offended by the withholding of more information as in every organization there are secrets. All she needed to know was she would be part of a major scientific undertaking and it inspired her.

And that major undertaking must be worth a huge amount of risk. It was a pie-in-the-sky discussion she'd had with the Prime Director that acquiring the Turzent Empire's leader as a co-test subject may be crucial to her research. She was shocked when he encouraged her to include that in her resource request. The Emperor?! Was the Prime Director actually serious? He was, implying that justice would be served as well as science.

As much as Hercjell wanted the Emperor as part of her studies, having the Turzent in her facility who was a lethal weapon three times over gave her pause. Ztar was a physical powerhouse thanks to the Etagllot scientists' augmentation program many years prior. The Turzent could quite literally snap a body in two without breaking a sweat. Add to that his natural mutation of a potent bio-energy field that could kill from some distance. As if that wasn't enough, Ztar was an amazingly powerful telepath, almost sui generis according to reports, and could easily control or kill with a thought.

The Etagllot organization prided itself on recruiting the most skilled and powerful of identified telepaths. Yet with as many telepaths as they had in their ranks, none came close to rivaling Ztar's telepathic depth, breadth, and potency. Most telepaths she knew about were specialists in one form or another. Ztar seemed to have the full range of gifts and masterfully used them all.

The only being that perhaps came close was Archangel's fellow human named Charles Xavier. The more the Etagllot learned of him, the more they desired to know. Actually, Earth's entire naturally occurring mutant population made Etagllot scientists salivate. The little backwater, pre-FTL planet was a treasure trove of genetic goodies, but that was for other research teams to exploit.

Tomorrow, Hercjell would submit her study strategy and required resources, the human and the Turzent ruler being at the top of the list. Included in her proposal was the plan for controlling the powerful Turzent as a pre-emptive move to assuage security concerns. That way, she thought with pride, if they endorsed her protocols and something went wrong, the blame could be spread around. Once submitted, all she could do was wait for approval and for her research subjects to be delivered.

### --- ###

Warren sat on the ground, leaning back against the bench with its leg between his wings, feathers spread out on the soft grass that was immaculately clean. He suspected Moit'de ordered the grounds staff to keep his favorite spot in the gardens particularly well kept to avoid dirtying his wings. The sun was pleasantly warm on the cool Sat'rey winter day. The rainy season had mostly passed and Warren was glad for any time he could spend outside.

His mind drifted from the book he'd borrowed from Atichi to consider his circumstances for what seemed like the zillionth time over the past five-plus years. Roughly seven Imperial months ago, he had decided to stay with Ztar even though the Emperor had freed him. While an extremely difficult choice, Warren believed it had been the right one. Ztar was focused on the transition and emotionally stable and content. It's what was needed as the sometimes tumultuous governmental change took place. If the transition was a success, then all the peoples of the Turzent Empire would benefit, including Earth.

While the exact relationship Earth would have with the Empire after the transition had yet to be worked out, privy Earth leaders would likely need to decide whether their little world was ready to become more active on the galactic scene and request full-membership or choose to remain uninvolved and ask to be on the Empire's non-interference list of pre-FTL worlds. Warren knew what Xavier's choice was on that issue – non-interference. He strongly believed humanity was not ready to deal with issues beyond its own world. Yet it wasn't up to Xavier, and in a discussion with Ztar, it may not be Earth's choice at all. The Empire may simply determine that Earth should remain off limits and isolated until they felt humans would be a positive addition. The Emperor said at the time that perhaps he should discuss the issue with Xavier. Warren encouraged that.

And so, everything seemed to be on an even keel with Ztar as far as the transition and the Empire was concerned, but was the Turzent moving in the direction Warren wanted him to go personally – from needing Warren to only wanting Warren? Big difference between the two. At the moment, Ztar still needed him; sometimes desperately so. That desperation did seem to be easing, however; ever so slowly. There was no obvious change in Ztar that one could see as a casual observer; it was more in his manner toward Warren, his choice of words, and in the emotions emanating from the Turzent.

Most noticeable was the change in bed. Ztar was the most intense lover Warren had ever had or had even imagined existed. Early on, Ztar's emotional and sexual hunger was so powerful Warren had seriously thought it would consume him as well. He had often wondered if there was enough of him to sate the Turzent's private famine. Ztar kept needing more and more of him, taking physically, mentally, psychically, emotionally, spiritually every bit of energy and life Warren possessed. At times, it felt as though even all of that wasn't sufficient. There were signs, though, that the almost insatiable, ravenous hunger was becoming less acute. Was he finally filling the deep void that had nearly consumed the Turzent?

On the flipside, there was the control issue. Ztar wanted to be the boss. Despite proclaiming that Warren was of the royal court with all the inherent freedoms and power that came with that position, Ztar called the shots. "I've planned a trip for us." "Tonight we'll dine on the patio." "Today we're doing such and such." "Let me explain how this is done." Granted, Ztar was an Emperor and with that comes a level of bossiness that shouldn't be unexpected, but there is a difference between work and private life. Ztar's bossiness carried over into their personal relationship. It was causing them to butt heads more and more often.

Bottom line, Warren saw progress in many areas, other areas needed work. Ztar still needed Warren, but perhaps over the next few months he'd come to merely want him. Meanwhile, Warren would stay with Ztar until the Emperor was healed enough to truly let him go or until the government transition was complete. He still held to the belief he'd know when Ztar had made his own personal transition.

Warren rose up from the ground and stretched his wings wide. Time for a little romp in the sky, as Ztar had labeled it long ago, to shake off the stiffness from sitting too long. He set the book on the bench. 'Beautiful day for flying,' he thought as he leapt into the aqua-blue Sat'rey firmament.

###

Merryth decided to take in the beautiful day with a stroll through the gardens, something she decided she should do more often. It was a chance to get out into the sun and away from the hubbub inside the palace. She wove through the pathways and came around a corner shrub just as Archangel took to the air. It caught her by surprise and as it never failed to do, the sight of Archangel taking wing took her breath away.

'So beautiful!' she thought in her usual awe of the human. 'What would it be like to fly? To be free like that?' The longing to know that kind of freedom ran deep.

She watched as he flew out over the palace grounds and beyond until he was out of sight. Then she saw the book Archangel had apparently left behind on the bench and picked it up. Strange that he would have an actual book and not read on his PI. Looking at the cover she saw it was a book amazingly enough she herself had read titled Shards. She remembered the story fondly of a young, orphan space explorer who was in search of more than adventure. He was on a quest to find his long lost people.

She opened it and read the inscription inside. "To Atichi – my dear friend, my confidante, and fellow admirer of the printed word. Enjoy! Sukja."

'Atichi?' She'd heard the name before, but couldn't quite place it. 'Touching,' she thought. Then she looked up to the sky. Was Archangel enjoying the story? Perhaps she should reread it and then ask him how he liked it. That would give her something to talk to him about. An excuse to get to know him.

Then she caught herself. 'He's royal court, you silly thing. Where are you thinking it could go? He is Ztar's companion as well,' she chided herself. Then, 'No harm in talking though. He's so far from home, maybe he needs a friend. Someone to talk to. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe I could ask him what it's like to fly,' she offered herself.

Still, she was merely low-ranking palace staff and Archangel was royalty – a gap that should not be crossed. Yet Archangel crossed the divide, starting out as Ztar's companion and nothing more to become imperial staff. Obviously, Ztar's view of imperial propriety differed from that of previous Emperors. Perhaps a member of royalty and a lowly member of palace staff could strike up a friendship without too much consternation. She felt her courage grow. And so the decision was made. She'd reread Shards and next time she saw Archangel, she'd ask him about it.

Smiling, she set the book down and headed toward the palace to return to her duties.

### --- ###

Ztar's eyebrows furrowed as he read the document that had held Archangel in his absolute control for five years – the document he told Archangel several months ago he would no longer enforce and freed the human for all intents and purposes. While still legally in effect, he had made it clear to all concerned it was not to be acted upon. Naturally, Ztar had read the key components of the Accord before the final document was presented to Earth's Shi'ar representatives, but he had never taken the time to read the entire Accord. Why bother? He trusted his legal staff out of necessity. They were the law-writers, not the Emperor. Now he wished he had. If Ztar had been killed during the war or died for any other reason since its signing…

The Accord was brilliant in its simplicity. The Shi'ar and Earth were required turned over Archangel and relinquish all claims to the human and make no attempts to retrieve him. Once done, their part of the Accord was fulfilled. The human was stripped of all rights, named Ztar's personal property, and required to perform and submit in whatever manner the Emperor commanded and if he did not, Earth was the Empire's to do with as the Emperor saw fit. The reward for compliance was autonomy for Earth. The penalties for non-compliance were harsh. The Accord was exactly as Ztar had instructed his counselors to structure the document. He now cringed at its cruelty.

Archangel made a good point when they first questioned its contents shortly after Ztar had unofficially released Archangel from the Accord. Once Earth and Shi'ar presented Archangel to Ztar, their requirements were fulfilled, assuming no attempts were made to rescue the human. So why hadn't his top legal advisors seen the Accord in the same paradigm that Archangel and Ztar had – much less a treaty between Earth and the Turzent Empire and more of an agreement between Archangel and Ztar that could be dissolved by mutual their consent?

Yet now having read the entire document, Ztar could understand why the counselors wouldn't look at it in that light. The continued requirement that Earth and anyone connected with or working for the small planet were banned from any and all actions to retrieve or otherwise steal back Ztar's property did mean on-going obligations for Earth's people. In that way, Earth was still required to perform in a particular manner.

So, yes, the more Ztar considered, the clearer it became that all parties remained actively bound by the Accord. At least for the next few months until Earth came fully under the new Imperiocratic government and the Accord was officially voided.

With that issue resolved in his mind, Ztar turned back to the clause that bothered him – what would happen to Archangel in the event of Ztar's death, his incapacitation, or if he chose to relinquish his claim on the human. That passage clearly said Archangel would become property of the Imperial government, specifically the military arm, and even more precisely, Military Development. Ztar held mixed feelings for that division of his military. It was the same branch responsible for the augmentation program he had been forcibly assigned to all those years ago. While he had cleaned house once he came into power, he never quite trusted the research and development side of the military again and still watched that division closely.

Sadly, Military Development let him down a second time before the war with the Commonwealth when they allowed FTL advancement research data to fall into enemy hands. Thankfully, the scientists involved in the project still turned theory into reality ahead of Commonwealth researchers. It was a turning point in the war. Military Development was responsible for security for that project and they had failed Ztar and nearly jeopardized his Empire with that breach.

Now the question was why were they named receivers of Archangel? Just a single paragraph in a document of hundreds of paragraphs and it worried Ztar. What did they want with his companion? Who was responsible for the clause? Had Military Development wanted the mutant for genetic research? Yet Earth was full of mutants, so why Archangel in particular? The nannite technology housed in Archangel sprang immediately to mind. Did someone involved with the crafting of the Accord know about the nannites years ago? Possibly, but not likely. While General Gtar-Cro of Military Intelligence performed a background investigation of Archangel as soon as he learned of Ztar's intentions, whatever Gtar-Cro learned would have remained with the General, as was always the case of intelligence gathered on Ztar's companions. So where were the clues leading him?

If indeed the nannites were the reason for MD's interest, Ztar could draw only one conclusion – someone who shouldn't have known about them did and MD was the benefactor. How did that translate into the paragraph in the Accord? Everyone involved in the document writing was now suspect. Yet if MD wanted Archangel, by the terms of the Accord, they'd only receive him if Ztar died or otherwise no longer wanted the human. Therefore, they may have a very long wait.

Ztar caught himself with that thought. He was a different person back then. He went through bedmates at a rapid rate. Few were with him more than several months, many only for a few weeks, and some only days. His chest tightened. The odds of Ztar hanging onto Archangel for a long time would have been quite low in anyone's opinion at the time. Ztar's reaction to the possibilities was almost physical. Someone five years ago had their eyes set on his Archangel and maybe still did.

Archangel hadn't spoken of the Accord lately. Ztar decided to hold off mentioning anything to the human until he knew more. The immediate question was who could Ztar trust to assist him in getting to the bottom of the matter?

As he always did in matters such as these, Ztar would turn to General Gtar-Cro.

### --- ###

"Warren, why do you remain? You owe the man nothing. Don't you see he continues to use you?" Xavier was asking Warren again to return to Earth. It was like the man was obsessed with getting him away from Ztar. It was the second time just this month he'd pleaded with Warren to go home.

"Charles, I've explained numerous times. I will when Ztar is ready. He's not yet. The Empire needs him to be strong and stable right now. My leaving would be counterproductive." Warren put a hint of exasperation into his tone.

Charles Xavier was beyond frustrated. It had been building for months. With each week that passed, he feared more for Warren. He'd tried subtle persuasion. He had attempted reason. Charles had used emotional pleas and logical arguments. Nothing thus far had worked. His friend, his X-man, had so fallen under the Turzent Emperor's control that he refused to leave when nothing prevented it. That's what the Emperor had told Warren even though the Accord that enslaved Warren to Ztar was legally still in effect and would be until Earth transitioned under the new government. Ztar had brutally raped and subjugated Warren out of his twisted and obsessive lust for the winged mutant for years. Then a few months ago, Warren decided to stay and willing participate in Ztar's delusional fantasy of the two of them a happy couple. Five years his friend had suffered at the hands of the Turzent emperor. Enough was enough!

Warren's transition from passive resistance to willing victim ate at Charles constantly. How could it have happened? How did Warren come to now defend the sadistic emperor and allow himself to care for the alien's wellbeing, even considering Warren's altruistic motives? Was Ztar controlling him telepathically? A distinct possibility.

Yet Charles felt there was more to it than simple mind control. He was familiar enough with the signs of that condition and Warren didn't display most of those telltale behaviors. Charles suspected another possible cause – Warren's low self-esteem and battered self-worth. Had his friend so come to loath himself that now depraved love held appeal? In Warren's subconscious, did he feel he deserved nothing better? That somehow a life of subjugation was atonement for perceived sins?

"Detach yourself from the situation, my friend. The empire will continue with or without Ztar. The rest of his court will not allow it to fall. Ztar's emotional health is not your problem to solve. You've sacrificed enough for the sake of Earth. If Ztar is being truthful, Earth is no longer at risk. You are free. You need to come home!" he implored.

Charles would never understand, Warren realized. While he appreciated the Professor's perspective, Charles seemed to have little inclination to see Warren's viewpoint and why it was vital that Ztar remain in power and govern his empire. For Ztar to do so effectively, the Turzent needed to heal so he could rule with maturity, steadiness, and compassion.

"We are simply rehashing the same issues over again, Charles. I will come home, I promise you….when Ztar is ready. Not before," he said with finality.

"And if he's never ready? If he is unable to let go? Then what? You will stay with him for the rest of your life?"

Warren shook his head. "It won't come to that."

"And how will you know when the time is right? Do you truly believe he will tell you knowing that will mean you leave him?" Charles couldn't fathom the possessive alien would ever confess he was ready for Warren to leave. It had been five years and still Ztar held tightly to Warren.

"I will know." Warren wanted to conclude the comm call, but couldn't bring himself to end their conversation on a sour note. He struggled to keep his rising irritation from showing.

"How?" Charles pressed his friend.

"Trust that I know what I'm doing, Charles. I'm a big boy – I can take care of myself."

Charles leaned back in helplessness. Nothing he said seemed to make a difference. Whatever the cause, Ztar had a firm grip on his friend and it caused Charles to hate the man even more, if that were possible.

"You deserve a better life than Ztar provides. You are worthy of freedom and happiness. You will not find that in the Turzent."

Charles was hitting too close to home with talk of deserving and worthiness. Warren knew all too well what he was deserving of. He was blessed with much, but deserved little. People sensed that and saw him for what they could get from him – a meal ticket or a beautiful body to possess. That so-called beauty went only skin deep. His very soul was tainted by Apocalypse and the darkness that mutant brought out in him. No one understood what he was really capable of, and no one would ever know if Warren had anything to say about it.

"I'm not looking for that in Ztar. I'm here for the future of the Empire, which happens to include our planet. This is as important for Earth's future as it is for the rest of the realm. That future is worth the sacrifice of a couple years," Warren pointed out with conviction.

Charles could see the agitation in his friend's face. The last thing he wanted was for Warren to decide that their conversations were too uncomfortable to continue. He would not risk Warren breaking off communications. "I will cease pushing you for today, my friend. However, I will not cease asking you to return. This is where you belong. Earth is home."

Warren sighed. Thank god Charles was giving up for now. "How is everyone else? Well, I hope," he said quickly changing the subject.

"All the usual trials and tribulations. The school is full to bursting. We're managing, though."

"And financially…you're okay?"

Charles nodded. The school held on by its fingernails, but so far it was solvent.

"If you need money, don't hesitate to ask for a contribution from Worthington Industries. They've been instructed to provide you whatever you need it."

"Your generosity warms this old man's heart, Warren."

Warren grinned. "Old man, my ass. I don't think you've aged a day in 15 years."

That brought a smile to the Professor's face. They spent the balance of their visit on less sensitive subjects than Warren's living arrangements much to his relief.

As the screen went blank, Warren replayed some of Charles' words in his mind. Did his friend know how much harder he was making Warren's situation? Of course he wanted to go home, but Ztar needed to be tended to for the sake of billions upon billions of lives that would be better off with a healthy, happy Emperor. The weight of that responsibility was very heavy at times. He'd hoped Charles would help ease that self-imposed burden, not add to it, yet that is what he did every time he pressured Warren to leave.

He closed his eyes against the conflict between them. Charles believed Ztar to be beyond redemption and Warren believed him worth saving. They had both dug in their heels. Ztar had become a rift between him and his dear friend. It hurt.

### --- ###

"I don't want to lose him, Sukja," he told his aide simply. "No matter whether I need him anymore or not, which I do, I want him. I want him until death takes us."

Sukja looked into the eyes of his Emperor. They reflected the emotions he saw in the face and that emanated from the man. Ztar was still so needful – still so dependent on the human for happiness. Sukja wasn't as convinced as Archangel that that would ever change.

"That is up to Archangel, my Emperor. His choice whether or not to someday go."

Ztar didn't like to be reminded he had no control over that. Ztar was always in control, it was part of being an Emperor. Yet he realized that didn't translate to personal relationships. By the gods, it didn't even fully translate into his new role in his transitioning government. Letting go was hitting him from all sides he realized with sudden clarity.

"I understand that, but I don't have to like it. What can I do to show him it's worth staying? Make him change his mind?"

Sukja slowly shook his head. "I have no answers for you. Archangel is setting aside much for you right now…his own nature, his life, his own needs. There may be no way to convince him to do so permanently. It is perhaps too much to ask of anyone."

Ztar appreciated the honesty. It was something he treasured in their friendship. The Ozjaerian had a way of speaking even painful truth in a quiet, less hurtful manner. Ztar stared down into the glass of sanui he held tightly in his hands. "I know. I love him deeply. I need him so very much!"

"Archangel understands. That's why he's here right now."

Ztar looked up at his aide. "Does he? Does he really understand? Do you really understand?" Ztar groped for the words to explain what he didn't feel there were words for. "We're joined. He is part of me – on some deep level. It is as if we are of one soul – at least for me. We're linked, tied together…by the gods, Sukja, I haven't the right words!" He was frustrated at the lack of terms to define. "That's the best I can do to describe how it feels. That won't change – I don't care what Archangel believes. I will always need him – always be connected with him."

Sukja watched as Ztar struggled. This was a different kind of need than he had previously confided. What was it? Was Ztar right? Had everything the human and Turzent been through together formed some sort of spiritual bond? Did Archangel feel anything like what Ztar described?

"Have you shared this with him?"

Ztar set the sanui down on the side table. "No. I don't want to pressure him. I don't think he feels the connection like I do."

Sukja sighed silently. It did not surprise him that Ztar had said nothing. The Emperor seemed to vacillate of late where his and Archangel's relationship was concerned. Afraid to say or do something that my cause Archangel to leave, then he'd settle down into a more secure frame of mind for a few days, only to become overly concerned once again. It had been going on now for the past couple months.

"My Emperor, I'm actually at a loss as to what you want me to say. Perhaps that I believe you can say or do something to avoid the inevitable?"

"I want you to tell me how to make him stay. What must I do? Or say? What?!" Ztar looked to his wise aide in near desperation.

Sukja looked back into the eyes that wanted an answer to a question as old as time. "You want to know how to make Archangel love you?"

Ztar lowered his gaze. "That is what I'm asking isn't it? Foolish."

"No, my Emperor, not foolish. That is a question asked by most of us at some point in our lives, in one form or another." Sukja scooted forward in his chair and leaned toward Ztar. "We all want to know we are worthy of being loved. You are no different," he offered gently.

Sukja watched as the Emperor closed his eyes, the face reflecting internal pain. This was the bottom line, he felt; the heart of the matter – Ztar's doubt that he was worthy of love. So desperate for it, yet so convinced he did not deserve it. Sukja feared, though, that even if Archangel did come to love him, Ztar would find a way to reject it, telling himself he was not worthy. The man had come so far in the past year, but he hadn't yet completely healed.

"I want him to love me – to stay, but there's nothing I can do to make that happen," Ztar said in a defeated voice.

"That is not because you aren't worthy of his love."

Ztar's eyes shot open and he looked hard into Sukja's. "You wrong, Sukja. I don't deserve what he's giving me. You know that as well as I do."

"He obviously believes otherwise," Sukja pointed out as the Emperor slipped into self-condemning behavior.

"He's wrong!" Ztar stood up and began to pace. He wasn't worthy; not after everything he'd done to his beloved in the past. No one could forgive such atrocities!

Sukja knew there was no convincing Ztar with words that he was worthwhile and Sukja would not try. A different approach was needed. "Archangel has decided you are. Accept that decision and allow him in, Ztar."

That stopped Ztar in his tracks. "What do you mean?" Archangel went all the way to his soul. How much more can one get in?

"You say you love him, but you've been holding him at bay whether you realize it or not. You share your deepest feelings with me without qualm, yet when I ask if you've talked about them with the man you love, the answer is no."

Ztar blinked. "I told you, I don't want to pressure him. I don't want him to leave because I've pushed to hard."

"Yet you want him to love you so he won't leave, but you're holding back out of fear of chasing him away. Do you see the problem?"

Ztar started pacing again – it helped the contemplation. Had he taken the wrong approach with Archangel? He was so fearful of creating a sense of entrapment in his lover that Archangel would leave rather than deal with the Emperor's intense need. But was that wise? Was he actually pushing Archangel away? There was risk either way, yet his current approach may forever keep Archangel at bay, while Sukja's way could result in another miracle. "Not necessarily sound strategy is it?" he asked after a minute. "I'm sabotaging my own dream, aren't I?"

"Perhaps."

Ztar returned to the chair in Sukja's lounge area. "But you said moments ago that Archangel loving me may be too much to ask."

"So I did and it may be true. That is ultimately up to Archangel and his own heart. Yet we will never know if he could love you if you undermine your own efforts, will we?"

Ztar sighed deeply. "What if I do as you say and he still leaves in the end? He doesn't love me?"

"Then you can never say to yourself that you did not try. Love is a tricky thing, my Emperor. It happens or it doesn't. Archangel could decide he wants to love you, but even he cannot make himself do so."

"By the gods, Sukja. Matters of love are so complicated and shifting! I'd almost rather be at war – that would be much simpler," he complained, picking up the glass of sanui.

Sukja laughed lightly. "My Emperor, welcome to the realm of the heart where little is simple."

### --- ###

An obviously wary human sat across from Vozeipar'de in the palace infirmary. It was understandable. Most individuals would hesitate at becoming a research subject.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable doing that," Archangel said as a frown moved across the flawless face. "Can't you run the scans or whatever here?"

Vozeipar'de leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Unfortunately, no. My equipment is specifically infirmary. Fjai has the equipment and technology for research, which is what is needed. They have all the data from here and it's inadequate. They really need you go to their facility."

Warren was very leery of the request. Vozeipar'de had complete faith in Fjai Medical Research Facility and the integrity of their scientists. "One of the very best research groups in the Empire," as he described it. Still, Warren was being asked to be a lab rat.

"I don't know…"

The physician tried again. "Think of the lives you could be saving. The Wynnar-Qxani virus is deadly 99.9% of the time once fully active. If Fjai could determine how it is you survived, it may lead to a major breakthrough, perhaps even a cure, but they need your help."

"There's more to it than the virus, Chenro. I'm concerned about the nannite technology and the potential that they're more interested in that than they're letting on."

"Director Esiar assures me that their interest is solely in any role the nannites may have played in your survival. If they are the key, then yes, they will be very much interested in learning how that was accomplished by the nannites. We also know that something else may be responsible for your miraculous recovery. The unexplained energy that emanated from you may have nothing to do with the nannites and perhaps that is what cured you. After all, the nannites hadn't even taken note of the virus all those weeks you were infected. Your own body, though, recognized the infection and had been trying to fight it off for quite some time. That alone is something we've not heard of before. In all other known cases, the body's immune system never detects the infection. We may find it was your natural healing ability that was responsible for eradicating the virus and not the nannites, despite suggestive evidence they had reactivated. Again, we won't know unless you assist us."

Warren shook his head. "I keep coming back to what forces may be at work behind the scenes. On the surface, the request seems straightforward, but I've learned that things often aren't as they appear. Is it possible someone is using the virus research as a cover for getting the nannite technology?"

Vozeipar'de sat back in his chair. While he understood Archangel's concerns, the potential good outweighed the risks in the physician's opinion. "Fjai's researchers and scientists are of the highest integrity. General Gtar-Cro found nothing to raise suspicions about Fjai's intent. There is not one incident of misconduct or deception that MI could find by any of the researchers working on the W-Q cure. If they had found anything questionable, I would not be asking you to do this."

Warren felt somewhat more at ease hearing that MI had given the all clear. "What about Ztar? Have you discussed this with him?"

Chenro nodded. "Of course. You are of his court and this needed to be cleared through him first."

"And his response…" Warren prompted.

"That it's entirely up to you."

Warren weighed the pros and cons. The nannite risk. His own near phobia of becoming a science experiment thanks mostly to what he'd been through with Apocalypse. The fact that Fjai was a space station and he hated confinement. Yet on the flipside, it would be a chance to possibly save lives. To learn more about the golden energy also held appeal as that was a new phenomenon. It would be a task to mark off on his to-do list – something he and Vozeipar'de hadn't been able to figure out.

"Let me sleep on it, Chenro," he said rising from the chair.

"Please consider this carefully, Archangel. As much as I'd like to you assist in Fjai's research, you are also my patient. I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Your safety and wellbeing are my first priority," the physician said with a gentle smile.

Warren headed for the door, but turned back to Vozeipar'de before exiting. "If I go, it will not be for long. They'd need to make the time count."

Chenro nodded. Knowing Archangel's intense dislike for confinement, it was an expected limitation and Fjai would have to respect that. At least the human hadn't said no. Vozeipar'de felt encouraged.

### --- ###

"I swear, Ztar, the longer I'm here, the more stubborn you're getting. Maybe my staying was a mistake." Low blow, Warren knew, but he was severely annoyed with the Emperor. Every month or so, Ztar had a quick checkup with his physician, and every time he refused to be micro-scanned for nannites. Vozeipar'de had asked, pleaded, and argued until he was blue in the face. In desperation, the doctor had turned to Warren. This was now what seemed like the umpteenth time Warren asked Ztar to get tested.

"That is untrue. I see no value in knowing something that I'd rather not, because if they are in me, nothing can be done to change it."

"And if the nannites aren't there, wouldn't that be a huge relief? They likely are not – they aren't designed to survive outside my body. Chances are you're in the clear."

"But what if they are? As Vozeipar'de explained, my energy may have powered them. If they used that, then perhaps they like the rest of me." Ztar brushed past the nagging human.

"Just get tested, for God's sake. Please. For the millionth time…"

"No." And Ztar walked into the bathroom and palmed the entry control.

"You're fucking impossible!" Warren threw at the closed door.

Normally, Warren would just let the matter go as Ztar's choice, but it was on his to do list and Warren always completed his to do list. Besides, they should know whether or not the Emperor was carrying around the highly advanced alien technology for various reasons. If the nannites had transferred, it could indicate the failsafe wasn't 100 percent and if Ztar ever had another bedmate in the future, they could be at risk, as could anyone in Warren's future. And what if someone with less than honorable intentions found out and decided they wanted that technology? Ztar could then be in grave peril. Not to mention how a nannite infection could affect Ztar. What impacts on his longevity and his health might there be? Any which way Warren looked at it, Ztar needed to be scanned.

If Ztar was infected, perhaps the Empire's best minds could succeed where the Shi'ar had failed and rid both Ztar and Warren of the infestation. This was not something Warren was going to give up on. The Turzent was not being reasonable.

Which lead to another matter – Vozeipar'de's request that Archangel go to Fjai to participate in the Wynnar-Qxani virus project. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone – help with the virus research and learn more about the energy field he possibly generated. Yet his gut told him to be extremely leery of letting anyone learn more about the nannites. It was very powerful technology. Unless the Emperor was also infected, he had a hard time justifying the risk of submitting to any testing that exposed the nannites to scrutiny. But if he could be assured that the nannite technology remained safely within him, the possibility of helping find a cure for an incurable disease was compelling. The issue required more thought, he decided.

### --- ###

It was a small, neighborhood eatery a short stroll from Atichi's shop and one of her favorite places for a leisurely meal with friends. Fourth generation ownership had garnered a loyal clientele and the place was usually busy, but customers never felt rushed. Everyone accepted that this place was for lingering and waited patiently for their turn to do likewise. Atichi had commed the day before and their table waited. One of the benefits of having established a friendship with the owning family years earlier.

"I love this place," Sukja confessed, sitting back to relax and take in the warm atmosphere with a rich and intense sanui in hand. The eatery's decor hadn't changed much in decades and retained its old elegance charm that made you feel embraced.

"As do I," Atichi sighed back. "It feels like a good friend – comfortable, welcoming, and reassuring," she offered looking deeply into Sukja's eyes, hoping the double-edged meaning wasn't lost on her long-time friend.

Sukja thought he heard more in the words than the obvious, but not entirely certain. They had been friends for years, going back to before either of them moved to Sat'rey. How different their lives were from that time long ago.

"Speaking of good friends, I've been neglectful of you. Life pulls me in many directions of late with all that is and has happened. We've much catching up to do."

"It's good to stop once in a while and reconnect," she reminded, taking a sip from her glass.

"I agree. Now tell me all your news!" he encouraged enthusiastically.

And the two talked, drank good sanui, ate slowly, and reconnected as old friends do – the time between visits seeming to have never occurred as they picked up exactly where they had left off. They talked of the routine and the not so routine, of old acquaintances and new, palace happenings, of Ztar and Archangel and that whole delicate situation, and how time was passing and of growing older and where life might be taking them.

Sukja caught the occasional twinkle in Atichi's eyes as he shared his own news. A couple times she patted his hand and then let hers linger just a bit. He sensed something just beneath the surface, but what?

All too soon, he realized that lateness of the hour. "Time to go, I believe," he said glancing back at the cleaning staff going about their work. Atichi nodded and they rose to leave, the royal guards also moving out of their corner in unison with a look of some relief. They strolled leisurely back to her shop and home in mostly comfortable silence, their tongues tired.

Coming to the doorway of her shop, he turned to her. "Atichi, I thank you for a delightful evening. Being with you is good for my soul."

She smiled widely and placed her hand on his chest. "As it is with me, dear friend. We should not let so much time pass between us again."

Something radiated off Atichi – a longing? Desire? She stood almost waiting. Then with a glance to the guards, she turned and opened her shop door. "Love and fondness, Sukja," she bid him with a wistful smile.

"Love and fondness, Atichi," he returned their mutual greeting that spanned the years and she disappeared behind the closing door. Quickly, he and the guards made their way the short distance to the shuttle pad as that familiar deep ache took hold of his heart for what could never be.

### --- ###

Ztar had a long and exasperating day. Numerous issues kept popping up regarding the new constitution, the transition from imperial rule to an imperiocratic government, prickly diplomatic maneuverings by the Par-Sen System that claimed to want to join the Empire, and a myriad of troublesome goings on that only served to irritate. The many months between now and when Ztar could shed much of the day-to-day decision-making and aggravations couldn't come soon enough.

Once the chain of events was set in motion to transition to the new government, Ztar longed for it to be done. An Imperial standard year of constant change and turmoil seemed like an eternity now. At least the first many weeks of the transition had been quieter than anyone had dared hope. Ztar gave credit where credit was due – his inner circle and their people. The Emperor could find no significant fault with how any of those key areas were performing. The military, military intelligence, planetary relations, finance, and legal all went above and beyond to ensure as few surprises as possible occurred. Ztar felt himself blessed with a keenly intelligent, loyal, and totally committed royal court and staffs.

But that didn't mean there weren't problems – many problems. The complainers, the fault finders, the nitpickers, and never-happys seem to come out of the woodwork during times like these. Soothing perceived slights, reassuring good intentions, and offering empathy and understanding to various system representatives and diverse self-interest groups seemed to be a black hole of time and energy. At least Ztar himself rarely had to step in. That did not mean he wasn't involved behind the scenes. He was still Emperor and still retained ultimate rule over the empire he had forged. And when key staff could not resolve a particularly challenging or sensitive issue, it fell to Ztar.

Yet those were all nuisance problems. The really significant challenges were beginning to take form. Some systems that had never fully accepted acquisition into the Empire were threatening to cede from the realm. He was returning most freedoms to the systems, yet they wanted full independence. Not completely unexpected, but to Ztar the idea seemed ill-conceived. The universe was a hostile place. Membership in the Turzent Empire offered a level of protection that a stand-alone system could never muster. Perhaps those that felt living as part of his Empire was too difficult he should simply let go. Then when hostile forces come knocking on their door, he could politely decline to lend aid. Or better yet, let them find trading partners outside his empire. For some, it would be a vast distance through Turzent space to get to another unaligned world, assuming Ztar would even permit them to travel through his territory. These points and more the rebellious species seem to have momentarily forgotten in their fervor for freedom.

As Ztar navigated to his palace chambers, he began to forget how tired and annoyed he was when his thoughts turned to Archangel – his escape from all that was the Empire – who had saved Ztar from himself without ever intending to do so. He loved Archangel wholly, unequivocally, and to the depths of his soul. Now imaginings of time with Archangel warmed him from the inside out. He needed Archangel this night more than wanted.

The chamber door slid open at his bio-sig and Ztar stepped into the room. Glancing quickly around, he found Archangel in the sitting area, feet up, reading. Archangel looked at him and smiled. Ztar loved the human's smile; always radiant. Then again, Ztar was a little biased.

"Good evening, my Archangel," he greeted warmly. "Sorry to be so late. You did eat earlier as I suggested?"

Warren studied the Turzent Emperor. He looked weary despite the large smile. These past many weeks had taken a toll – too many long days and stress-filled hours. "I did, but I can eat again if you haven't yet," he offered. Warren could always eat and Ztar knew that very well. Reference to Warren's insatiable appetite always evoked a grin or chuckle from the Emperor, and that night was no exception.

"The Chef sent food to my office earlier. I think Sukja is keeping tabs on my eating habits and commed Delme. Sometimes Sukja is a little motherly," Ztar shared with a chuckle. "But if you're hungry, by all means eat."

Warren put his PI aside and got up. "No, not really." He walked over to the ajar balcony door where a cool breeze was wafting in. "It's getting cold," Warren noted as he closed the door.

"Winter winds," Ztar replied, watching the human move through the chambers. The gentle rustling of feathers alone ignited heat in the Ztar. 'Funny how such a little thing can do that to me,' he thought to himself. He'd waste no time this night. He wanted Archangel in his arms and forget about being Emperor for a while. "Fireplace activate," Ztar commanded into the air, and the voice-controlled hearth ignited.

Warren walked over to liquor storage and pulled out two glasses and the Dison, a sweet-fiery liqueur they both enjoyed. It would taste especially good with the coolness of the evening. He wanted to talk with Ztar about the Fjai request. If Ztar felt it was safe, Warren would seriously consider going. Ztar came up behind as he poured, and ran his hand down the wings sending the involuntary shivers through Warren. It was all too obvious what the Emperor wanted.

Though Warren still wrestled every day with his decision to stay with Ztar, over the months since that decision it had gotten easier. He wasn't sure why, but perhaps it was routine now, just part of what he did each day and night. While a relationship with another man would never be natural for Warren, Ztar did please him in bed. In fact, he did more than that – Warren had never experienced sex as intense or all-consuming as it was with Ztar. Yet there was something more to it than sex. It felt as if they were linked, but that didn't quite describe it either. More like they were bonded on a deep, nameless plane. When he contemplated it, Warren couldn't find the right words, and maybe there weren't any that could accurately convey the feeling. He stopped trying.

In looking back, Warren realized the connection had become more noticeable after his near-death. Whatever it was, Warren knew that on most days, at most times, it was Ztar who felt the bond most acutely. And with Ztar, that usually meant one thing. Right now, Ztar's hands were roaming his back, up and down the space between the wings and Warren was already getting aroused. He had finished pouring one glass of Dison when Ztar wrapped his arms around Warren and pulled him close. "We can have the Dison later," he whispered in Warren's ear, his voice already lusty. The Fjai discussion would have to wait, Warren concluded.

The feel of the wings, the firmness of the body, the very smell of Archangel – skin and feather – sparked Ztar's passion like no other lover ever had. The Turzent believed with zero doubt that no one else would ever make his desire burn with such white hot intensity. At times he thought spontaneous combustion was not outside the realm of possibility. He began nuzzling Archangel's neck, nipping at an ear lobe. Sliding his hand around Archangel's waist, up the back to the wing base, he plied his skilled fingers at the right spot in the right way on the highly sensitive wing. Again, he was rewarded with a wing quiver and a shiver that ran down Archangel's lean body.

Warren nearly dropped the Dison bottle when Ztar hit that point on his wing. 'O-oh god!' He moaned with pleasure. Warren attempted to move back and turn, but Ztar wouldn't budge, keeping Warren pinned between Ztar's seven-foot frame and the counter. Then Ztar's fingers probed deep between the feathers of his right wing, stimulating the super-sensitive nerve endings that made Warren such a magnificent flier. More tremors ran through Warren as he took in a sharp breath and he arched against the Ztar's body. Then the Emperor ran his hand down the length of the wing, letting feathers glide between his fingers as far as Ztar's arm could reach down. Warren's body was igniting and there was nothing to be done about it.

Ztar was pleased with the reaction to his foreplay, but then again it almost always worked. He had learned five years ago that the wings were two large erogenous zones for the human. During those years, he had perfected his arousal techniques and knew exactly what brought Archangel the most pleasure. Finger combing of the feathers was one of those things. Ztar repeated the combing, sending another wave of shivers through his companion.

Warren thought his knees would give out the second time Ztar slid his fingers through the feathers. He grabbed the counter edge with both hands and swallowed hard. The world was quickly becoming distant as the desire escalated. Warren wanted the skilled hands on his wings, his body, everywhere. He nearly vibrated with longing. The third time Ztar titillated the wing Warren was over the edge. This time when he tried to turn around, Ztar allowed it and Warren rose up to the Emperor's mouth and took it in for heated kiss. He pulled his wings forward and enveloped them in a white cocoon.

Encircling Archangel with his arms, Ztar lifted the human up bodily without breaking from the kiss, and walked to the bed. Lying Archangel down on the deeply soft mattress, Ztar pulled back from the human's mouth and rose up slightly. The clothes had to go now and Ztar wasn't in the mood to wait for more traditional methods. Fabric and stitch stood little chance against the augmented strength of the Turzent and soon what was left of Archangel's loungewear was on the floor in tatters. Then Ztar ripped away his own bothersome garbs and lowered himself down on his companion once again to take in the pleasures that only Archangel could give.

Ztar brushed his lips against Warren's teasingly, but instead of a taking in his mouth, the Turzent kissed down his neck, across his shoulder, and onto the wing arch. Tremors of delight raced through him as lips tantalized feathers. Warren ran his own hands up from the small of Ztar's back to the broad shoulders, lingering in the sensation of smooth skin over hard muscle. When Ztar pulled up slightly to explore with lips and tongue down the shoulder, and across the chest, Warren put a hand on either side of Ztar's head and pulled him in to explore the Turzent's mouth once again. Waves of heat washed through him and Warren groaned from his wanting.

Ztar gave his companion what he wanted; long and deep, tongues intertwined. Archangel's kisses were one of life's simple yet greatest gifts, the Emperor had long ago concluded. They were strong, yet gentle at the same time. Demanding, yet submissive. Ztar loved them. But as wonderful as the kisses were, Archangel offered other pleasures Ztar wanted to enjoy. Separating from Archangel's mouth, he continued to explore the rest of the human's perfect body, building the passion and lust in both men as he plied all his highly refined bedchamber skills. The human moaned and his breath hitched when Ztar hit just the right spots in the perfect way. Ztar's empathic connection with Archangel reinforced that all was progressing nicely.

Warren was quickly losing awareness beyond the bed. He was simply sensation and need as the Turzent titillated, massaged, kissed, brushed, stroked, and otherwise drove Warren mad with his hands, mouth, and fingers. Warren did his best to return the favor, yet always felt he that got the better end of the deal. Ztar had a distinct advantage of knowing exactly what gave Warren the most pleasure at any given moment through their close empathic tie. Unfortunately, empathic links run only one way when the second person is not an empath, and Warren wasn't. He had to rely on old fashion feedback to know what was pleasing Ztar. So he did his best to hit the right spots on the Turzent's body with his fingertips, lips, and tongue. It got the job done quite nicely from Ztar's reactions.

Ztar was on fire from Archangel's kisses and caresses. He took in more and more of the human, the need to bring things to climax becoming more pressing with each stroke of hand or brush of lips. Ztar so needed Archangel, not just physically, but his soul needed the human. Each time he contemplated the fact that Archangel had chosen to remain with him of his own free will, the Emperor still found it hard to believe. After all that had happened between them, all the pain and suffering Ztar had inflicted on Archangel for four years, after all Ztar had taken from him by force, the noble human still decided to stay for Ztar's sake. If any creature deserved to be called Esserru, it was Archangel. "Healer of souls" the word meant. That was succinctly and miraculously what Archangel had done for Ztar, and he would be grateful for all eternity for that gift.

At the moment, though, Ztar accepted the gift Archangel was giving him in bed. The Turzent focused his entire being on the human, determined to bring him all-consuming pleasure. In the giving, Ztar's own needs and desires were fulfilled, and when he could no longer hold back, Ztar took his Archangel, thrusting gently at first to give the human's body time to accept him without discomfort. Once the human was fully ready, he took Archangel deep and powerfully for as long as Ztar could, savoring every sensation of plunging in and out of his beloved.

When Ztar entered Warren, it was what his body wanted and waves of incredible sexual bliss crashed over him. Despite the haze of lust, he wondered how it was that a man could make him feel so good. About the only conclusion he could draw was if the sex is this good, it doesn't really matter. And when Ztar came inside him, it drove Warren to climax and the relief of release sent ecstasy rushing through him.

With the sex at an end, Ztar laid half on top of Warren, brushing the damp hair off Warren's face, smiling a silly grin of contentment. "You look like a Cheshire cat," he told Ztar with a quick laugh.

"And a Cheshire cat is…" the Emperor questioned.

"Take it from me," Warren said, inviting the telepath to enter his thoughts. The look of understanding quickly crossed the Emperor's face and his eyes twinkled.

"Yes indeed, I feel like the Cheshire cat, but I'm grinning because you make me content and whole. I love you."

As Ztar nuzzled his neck again, Warren couldn't remain quiet when he remembered how Ztar had discarded his clothes earlier. "Your tailor does wonder what I do with all the clothing he makes for me. I haven't the heart to tell him some ends up in shreds on the floor," he shared laughing.

"It gives him work. He should be grateful," Ztar chuckled into Archangel's ear, and then rose up on an elbow to look down into the crystalline-blue eyes that never failed to mesmerize. Those eyes glinted with mischief as he watched.

"Be warned, Emperor. You ever do that to my t-shirts and jeans and you're a dead man!" Warren said sternly.

Ztar laughed heartily. He knew how precious those items were to the human, having been sent by his friend Xavier.

"You have my word, your t-shirts and jeans are safe," he reassured. "But how someone can be so attached to old, worn pants, I can not imagine!" he remarked with a shake of the head. "Now, perhaps we could enjoy that Dison."

That reminded Warren of what he had wanted to talk to the Emperor about before Ztar had other ideas for the evening. After throwing on their nightwear, retrieving the Dison, and snuggling back into bed to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, Warren asked his question.

"What is your take on the Fjai request?"

Ztar didn't answer immediately, and Warren studied the Emperor's facial expression closely. Slight concern could be read there, or it could simply be Ztar didn't like the idea of being separated from him for any length of time, or both.

"Gtar-Cro found nothing in his investigation of the facility or its researchers. They are of highest integrity from what MI could ascertain. Obviously, I worry about you submitting to testing and how that will make you feel. It's something I wouldn't do unless there was a strong possibility of producing the results they're hoping for. The nannite aspect equally concerns me. Technology that advanced may be a temptation the scientists can't resist."

"My thoughts exactly. I won't let them have the nannites. It comes from bad karma."

Ztar sat quietly for several moments. "If you decide to go, I'm going with you. I can monitor the researchers telepathically to ensure nothing is done that we don't approve of."

At first, Warren was going to protest saying Ztar needed to stay at the palace with all that was transpiring with the transition, but then he knew Ztar could handle most things from anywhere in his Empire as long as he was within comlink range. It would be a huge relief to know he was scanning the researchers and watching over their actions. With that safeguard in place, Warren would go. The possibility of helping to find a cure for the deadly virus appealed to his altruistic side. The added bonus of perhaps learning more about his own mutation also appealed. The more he knew, the better equipped he would be to take advantage of the abilities nature gave him.

"I've decided to go if you go with me, but only if their staff, meaning everyone at the facility, agrees to allow you to scan whomever, whenever you want. We will trust, but verify. And if the nannites prove to have played no role in my survival, I want every bit of data on them destroyed."

Ztar nodded in complete agreement. "Then that's what we will do. Shall I tell Chenro or do you want to do that?"

"I'll tell him. Hopefully, I won't lose my nerve when the time actually comes. After Apocalypse, I'm not sure how I'll react to being in that kind of setting again," he said as a very slight shudder ran through him.

Ztar sensed the apprehension. "Archangel, don't do this if it will be too painful."

Warren sighed and shook his head. "It's a fear I need to confront, Ztar. Maybe then I can finally put that ordeal behind me."

Memories of Ztar's time at the hands of the Etagllot flooded back and he stiffened. The pain and fear was something he'd never forget. Nor would he forget the screams of the people he killed on his way to breaking out of the military facility. His new, wild abilities decimated the population of the research compound, both innocent of any crimes against him and otherwise. The innocent deaths he caused that day would always haunt him.

Warren noticed Ztar's sudden stillness. He knew that Ztar had suffered similarly with the military's experiments to genetically augment their soldiers. "Ztar, if this will be difficult for you, too, we should rethink. No sense dredging up bad memories on your part either."

It was Ztar's turn to shake his head. "You're wisdom is sound, Archangel. I should face my demons."

"If you're sure."

"I'm not until, like you, I'm facing it. Though I'll be observing only. The experience won't be as intense for me as for you."

Warren nodded. 'Very true,' he acknowledged to himself. Taking another sip of Dison, he watched the flickering flames. Sleepiness crept from the soothing warmth of the liqueur and fire. He yawned. Ztar pulled him tight with the arm that encircled Warren from behind as they lay propped on the pillows against the headboard. His head resting on Ztar's broad shoulder, Warren suddenly realized he was feeling wonderfully content and wondered about the implications. Sleep tugged though and he let any desire to contemplate go.

"We should get some rest," Ztar offered. He, too, was drowsy. Then they settled in for the night, Ztar holding Archangel in a protective wrap. 'If any one of those scientists even think of causing the slightest pain in my Archangel, they will pay dearly,' was his last thought as sleep came.

### --- ###

Merryth was fully engrossed in her reread of Shards when Archangel rounded the corner shrub and stopped short.

"Hello!" he greeted, the voice filled with surprise.

Merryth jerked with a start and looked up. Her plan worked – he was here! "Greetings, Archangel," she replied, immediately spotting his borrowed copy of Shards in hand. Archangel seemed a bit nonplussed at her presence in what she slyly learned from Moit'de was his favorite reading spot. "Have I intruded where you wanted to read?" she asked up to him innocently with a small twinge of guilt for her mild deception. She had intentionally sat on the ground as Archangel often did, something the master gardener had also shared, hoping he'd feel more inclined to sit if he did come along.

'Yes,' Warren thought, but then there was no sign posted that said "Private Retreat for Warren."

"I can find another place if you'd rather be alone," he offered, not sure if he wanted her to say yes or no. Normally, he wouldn't have minded, but today had he looked forward to the alone time more than usual.

"Oh, no. I'm quite happy sharing this spot. I like it here. You can't see any buildings or any other part of the grounds. It's like an oasis. You enjoy it, too?"

Her emerald green eyes looked hopeful to him. Did she really want him to stay or was she being polite? "I do. It's my favorite place in the gardens."

"Then let's share," she said patting the ground in a motion that reminded Warren of Moit'de, though the gardener and Merryth were not the same species. Merryth was Dreian Minor, not to be confused with Dreian Major, as the computer database had pointed out in Warren's brief reading about the species. Her people originated in the twin-planet star system called Themra, if he recalled correctly, that was one of the many worlds conquered during the heydays of the old Ta'oc Empire.

He took the young woman up on her offer and sat down. They had spoken once before briefly several months earlier. After that, it was just the usual hello or exchange of smiles as they passed in the palace hall. Merryth always looked happy he recalled.

Of all the species Warren had encountered during his time with Ztar, she came the closest to looking homo sapien. There were enough differences, however, that one would either realize Merryth was not human or would think she was a mutant. She was small-framed, with legs longer than one would expect for her torso, but not so long as to look anything but graceful. In fact, as he considered it, she almost looked elf-like – a lithe body with long legs, delicate hands, and small feet. She had the same two arms, two legs, and the common 6-digit variation of hands. The somewhat larger-than-human ears were slightly pointed at the tops. Her skin tone he described as a warm brown and unlike anything you would find on a homo sapien. Warren detected hints of rust in the rich hue. What stood out the most was the amazing deep rust-red hair that hung past her narrow shoulders and the large emerald-green eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes of the same rusty-red color. Merryth was quite beautiful in Warren's opinion.

As Archangel joined her on the ground, she watched him spread the wings across the grass and settle in, legs crossed. Although not her species, her breath caught whenever she saw him. He was the most handsome non-Dreian she'd ever seen.

"What are you reading," Warren asked, nodding to her PI.

She smiled what she hoped was an apologetic grin. "Actually, I have a confession to make. I saw the book you left on the bench while up there a few days ago," she pointed to the sky. "I read Shards once before and loved it. When I saw you were reading it, I decided to revisit the story. I'm rediscovering why I enjoyed it so much all those years ago."

As he listened to Merryth speak, her accent seemed a cross between Australian and Caribbean. Very pleasing. "It is good. The author has created a universe that draws you in. The characters are believable and the main character, Jxiar, has issues he grapples with that transcend species. I love the humor, too. Some of the references elude me, but usually I get the general idea," Warren shared.

Merryth gave him a hand signal/facial expression combo that seemed to signal agreement. "Any particular references you missed?"

Warren thought for a moment. "Well, there was the one about acting like a jaddyrrok. Was that made up or is there such a thing?"

Merryth laughed. "Oh, there really are jaddyrroks alright. They're found on the author's home planet. Jaddyrroks are small animals with a big reputation for expending lots of energy and accomplishing little. They seem to need to be in motion whether it serves a purpose or not."

Warren chuckled in understanding. "Now it makes sense! And that fits with other descriptions the author wrote about Tenwu."

"And the more you get into the book and the books that follow Shards, the more you'll see Tenwu scurries about like a jaddyrrok a lot!" she said giggling.

"How long ago did you first read the book?"

"Many standard years ago. Perhaps 20 or 25."

Warren did a quick mathematic conversion in his head. That'd be at minimum 23 Earth years ago, but that didn't fit. Merryth looked to be not even 20 years old.

Warren cocked his head. "Merryth, in my cultural my next question can sometimes be considered rude, so if it is, please don't feel offended or obligated answer. How old are you in standard years?"

Merryth smiled sweetly. "The question is not rude at all. I'm 94 standard years."

Warren was flabbergasted. "94 years old?!"

She gave the same hand/face gesture again. "My species is long-lived. Our average life expectancy is 375 standard years," she said tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear that the breeze had grabbed.

Warren was amazed. "That's a long time."

"Depends on your perspective. Our culture is like all others – the lifespan is normal to us. For example, my people usually can't bear children until our late sixties at the youngest. Life moves slower for us than for most other people."

"You must wonder how we cram it all into our shorter lifespan."

"Exactly. I can't imagine living only a hundred and fifty standard years – so little time and so much I'd want to do!" she exclaimed with a wave of her arm for emphasis.

"Again, it's perspective. On my world, the longest most people could typically expect to live is about 85 years – that's 70 standard years. In many countries on my planet, it is far less."

Merryth inhaled at the shortness of the lifespan. It was less than most of the species of the Empire. "Is your lifespan the 70 years or the other," she asked hoping it would be the longer.

Warren wasn't sure how to answer. Obviously, he had considered this himself, but there was no way to know. The only indication he had thus far was that since his healing ability kicked in, he hadn't appeared to age. And then there were the nannites – they may also come into play at some point, not willing to let their host die. "Merryth, I'm not really sure how long my lifespan could be. I've certain anomalies in my genetic makeup that leaves the door wide open. I could live a very long time or just the typical 70-year life."

Merryth considered pressing Archangel for more information about the anomaly, but decided against it. If he wanted to share, he would, she felt. "I hope it's the former."

"I'm not so sure I do," he said with a sudden pang of sadness.

"Why do you say that?" she wanted to know, setting her PI on the ground.

Warren mimicked the move and placed his book on the bench. "I've thought about it some. It would be like being caught in a time warp. Everyone around you growing older and eventually passing away and you don't, or maybe just at a much slower rate. You'd be always the one burying people you care about, always left behind to pick up the pieces and start of new life without them. You'd miss out on growing old together with the ones you love and sharing in that major life experience. And if you lived a very long time, you'd be burying your grandchildren and great-grandchildren. No, I don't think I want to live a lot longer than other humans. It would be too painful."

Merryth was quiet for many moments as she considered what he had said. It made sense. "I see what you mean, Archangel. A life lived far longer than the rest of your people would be difficult. The pain of watching everyone you love die would be hard to endure. It would be a painful way to live." Yet it was to be that way with her and any shorter-lived friends she made in her life. She had always known that, but their conversation drove the point home with new sharpness.

Warren didn't feel like reading anymore as he found himself enjoying getting to know Merryth. And, too, while the winter day was not cold, there was a nip in the air. "It's a little chilly sitting here. Maybe we could walk the grounds and talk more about Shards – and other things."

And so they walked, book and PI in hand, and discussed Shards and their own cultures and their own adventures in space. The rest of Merryth's afternoon off went quickly and suddenly it was that time of day when it's not quite evening but no longer afternoon. Warren needed to return to the palace to make arrangements for dinner with Ztar.

"I thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon, Merryth. Thanks for spending your time off with me," he said smiling warmly.

"As did I. Now we best get you back inside. I don't want to be blamed for your dinner being late!" she said with a light laugh.

Warren liked the sound of her laughter – it was almost melodious. They parted company on the reflecting pool patio. She gave him a quick wave as she headed toward the staff residence building located elsewhere on the property.

###

From his office vantage point, Ztar watched as Archangel and the female staff member parted company. He'd picked up on odd empathic signals for the past couple hours from Archangel, but as always did not intrude telepathically. Now he could explain them.

The old Ztar may have reacted with suspicion or anger, but Ztar was pleased with himself for the lack of either. It was good that Archangel was making friends. Perhaps he would decide to stay if he became more anchored in this life, or at least postpone leaving. The fact that this was a woman gave Ztar slight pause, knowing Archangel's natural tendency toward male/female relationships, but Ztar had felt nothing resembling sexual interest in the empathic link.

As he left the balcony, something jolted him deep inside. It had nothing to do with Archangel he was somehow certain, but he couldn't put a finger on it. 'Odd.' Was this another premonition? He'd experienced that before Sukja and Archangel's kidnapping by the terrorists. This hadn't the same feel, though.

Still bothered by the sensation, he returned to the reports that he wanted to finish before he ended his work day. If the sensation happened again, he'd start making comm calls he told himself.

###

Making his way back to their chambers, Warren replayed parts of the afternoon with Merryth. He had enjoyed their time very much. She was intelligent, witty, and confident. The fact that she was quite lovely only added to her appeal. Warren was intrigued to say the least, but Ztar hung over him. If he was a free man…

What the afternoon drove home is that Warren did miss the companionship of a woman. Ztar was incredible in bed, but he was still male. Not once in their bedchamber escapades was Ztar ever anything other than 'the man.' Just once, he'd like sex where he was the man. But not with Ztar. With a woman. One of these days.

###

A short while later, he and Archangel were just sitting down to dinner when the door chimed and Sukja entered when prompted. The sensations radiating from Sukja were ominous and his face reflected high anxiety.

"My Emperor, you are needed in your office immediately," the Ozjaerian said with urgency. "General Gtar-Cro is on the comm and wants to speak with you privately."

Ztar rose immediately. Memory of the mental jolt jumped to mind. 'By the gods, what could be wrong?' Ztar's heart pounded as he nearly ran to his office.

### --- ###

Officer Dityce had planned with meticulous care. When you intend to kidnap the ruler of an Empire, perfection isn't optional. Anything less could mean your death. Only his best field operatives would be on the mission, and only at the last possible moment would they know who their target was. Secrecy was tantamount. If they failed, it could tip off Ztar's government of their returned presence in the Turzent Empire. Dityce had been warned of the dire consequences of that scenario.

'No pressure!' Dityce said sarcastically to himself. It seemed like too much risk for unknown rewards, but he was not yet privy to what the Etagllot hoped to gain from the human and the Emperor. That was on a need-to-know basis only and he didn't. He just had to delivery the targets.

It was quite fortuitous that the Emperor and his companion had decided to travel to Gamas II and the Fjai facility orbiting that planet. Snatching the two targets from Sat'rey would have been impossible. That star system and the throneworld it contained were fortresses. Intelligence reports had given him the Emperor's GII itinerary. Every piece of information was cross-verified to ensure accuracy. Of course, Dityce could not confirm anything with complete certainty, but it was what he had to work with. After studying the reports for a couple hours, Dityce found what he believed was a small crack in MI's security shield. That would be where he'd slip through.

### --- ###

That's our first chapter – what did you think? Worth reading on? This is where you write your review and I get the thrill of reader feedback (blatant begging, I know!). Thoughts, impressions, anything I messed up - all comments welcomed.

I've actually completed the near final draft of the rest of the book, so the wait for future chapters shouldn't be too long. Just need to do the spit 'n polish on each segment before publishing. Hopefully, you'll provide the feedback I need to stay motivated. Don't leave me hanging out there thinking no one is reading!

Until Chapter 2...