Okay, here is the next installment. Will our escaping duo make it? Be recaptured by the Etagllot ship? Did their distress signal get out or was it blocked? Read on for all the answers.

Chapter 7

Hercjell thought she'd hyperventilate. "You used who for the trap?"

"Technician Rotac'de. He was the most reasonable choice."

Hercjell didn't believe in gods, but if there were any, they'd be laughing. Of all the people for Jmaricz to put outside the dampening field in his baited trap for the telepathic Emperor. Rotac'de – the only other person planetside that knew of the Etagllot spaceship secretly parked in opposing orbit above Ymoz where facility sensors could not detect it. To be generous, Jmaricz wasn't privy to the Alpha Helix – Etagllot scientists hold some things very tight to their chest. Therefore, the fact that she had dragged Rotac'de to the ship to perform some rather sensitive data mining and purging from the Alpha Helix's computer wasn't something Jmaricz had any way of knowing.

"So now they have a shuttle," she pointed out in accusing tones to the security chief as they stood nearly toe-to-toe in the security room.

"My plan was sound. I cannot imagine how they detected the knockout gas. It should have rendered them unconscious without their ever knowing what was happening. But I did plan for that possibility, no matter how remote. The shuttle's weapons are disabled."

"And the comm?"

"For the trap to work, it had to be operational. I knew Ztar would manipulate Rotac'de to test the system. Ztar would not take the bait if he knew the comlink was disabled or tampered with."

"The shuttle has a functioning comm?" she asked incredulously.

Jmaricz thought the researcher was going to explode. "Remember, the sector comm will not relay their transmission. It does them no good."

"And you don't think Ztar knows that?"

"Of course I assumed he does, but I believed the combination of a shuttle and a functioning comlink would still be too tempting given their dire situation. And I was right – they went for it. Ztar will attempt to bypass the blocks, but he'll find that impossible."

"There's more to it, Jmaricz. Ztar doesn't waste energy on targets that offer little gain. He has a plan – you can bet your life on it! Again, you underestimate him." Hercjell was livid. Did this man not understand with whom they were dealing?

"I don't see how!" he fired back. "They're in a weaponless shuttle. He has no access to long-range communications. We're in an isolated sector with no other habitable planets within shuttle range. They've nowhere to go. If we can't recapture them ourselves, all we have to do is call for the evac ship and they will pick them up."

"I need a shuttle and guards – immediately," she ordered, knowing it may be already too late to reach the Alpha Helix ahead of Ztar.

"We have no more, Researcher. Our last one is pursuing the escapees. I have skimmers," he offered, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Why do you need a shuttle?"

"You'll find out soon enough," she replied vaguely, quickly leaving the perplexed security chief to attempt to contact the ship, praying to whatever gods that might exist the Alpha Helix's psy-damps were fully engaged. Dityce's prophetic words rang tauntingly in her head as she raced down the corridor. "Each day the Emperor remains here increases the odds of the unpredictable happening." It burned her to the core that the man had turned out to be right.

### --- ###

"You've confirmed they have a ship?" It was as Ztar had said – the Etagllot usually have a ship nearby. Now escape to space was not an option – they'd be quickly recaptured.

"Yes. A small-class cruiser."

Warren eyed the telepath. "When did you found this out?"

"When I did the deeper scan of the tech," the Emperor explained, nodding his head toward the man sleeping soundly on the shuttle floor. "He's been onboard. It's called Alpha Helix."

"Where is it?"

"In orbit."

"We have Etagllots above us and below us. I feel the noose tightening, Ztar. So why are you smiling like a Cheshire cat?"

"Don't lose heart, my Archangel. This is a special ship. It only has one person on board. We can take it easily."

Warren's heart jumped with excitement only to immediately sink. "Ztar, maybe you were too out of it to remember, but we can't take the shuttle into orbit – the hatch won't seal."

"Just keep ahead of our pursuers and let me verify a small detail."

A tone sounded from the comm at that moment. "The ghost comm has received and relayed our message!" Ztar announced with enthusiasm.

Warren let out a whoop. "Thank god!"

"The gods are indeed with us. Now for the rest of our brilliant plan." Ztar smiled, easing out of his seat, noticeably steadier.

"We don't have a lot of time before we're in range of their weapons," he informed the Turzent. Warren attempted to activate the weapons and shield systems. "No go on the phase cannon or shields. Why am I not surprised?"

Ztar opened compartments until he found what he was looking for – lifesuits. The only question was whether or not Archangel's wings would fit inside. It would likely be tight, but Ztar was hopeful. Then reaching out his mind, he reconnected with the sole person aboard the Etagllot ship parked in geostationary orbit on the opposite side of Ymoz. As soon as he learned of the ship, he had latched onto that mind to put the female caretaker in freeze mode to ensure she did not respond to any outside communications. Now he instructed her to begin reawakening the ship.

"We need to put these on, Archangel."

Warren looked back and saw Ztar carrying what appeared to be spacesuits.

"They will protect us when we leave atmosphere."

### --- ###

A bridge officer on Gtar-Cro's ship suddenly swung around in his chair toward the captain. "Sir! We've received a direct-link distress call – from the Emperor!"

Captain Viis quickly strode over to her communication officer. "Confirmed?"

"Yes, Captain. The message contains Emperor Ztar's ident codes."

"Bring it up."

The officer swiveled back to the comm station and excitedly punched the controls to decode and display the message onto the viewscreen.

Viis leaned in to read the displayed text. "Get me the General."

### --- ###

Ztar slipped into the barely large enough lifesuit with difficulty. Then it was Warren's turn to don a suit with Ztar at the helm.

"We need our friend here to suit up, too."

As Warren expected, he had even more difficulty than Ztar. The garment was not designed for someone with large wings, but he managed. Thankfully, his feathered appendages were flexible enough to squeeze in, although uncomfortably. Small price to pay if they successfully commandeered the spacecraft.

Ztar woke and puppeted the shuttle technician quickly into a suit and then returned him to his slumbers. Nosing the shuttle into a steep climb, they accelerated into the heavens toward the Etagllot ship. The craft chimed its warnings as they ascended rapidly. 'Now Archangel, you need to take over piloting so I can fully focus on our assistant aboard ship,' he 'pathed.

Warren took the controls, keeping the rapidly climbing shuttle on course for the far side of the planet and a close watch on their closing pursuers.

Once again focused on the single crewmember on the Alpha Helix, Ztar led the woman through the final stages of readying the ship, bringing the engines on line, opening the shuttle bay door, and other tasks as quickly as she was capable. Ztar was familiar with the ship class – he had piloted and commanded several over the years. It was a small but tough ship and would suit their escape perfectly.

Warren rechecked sensors. 'Ztar, the other shuttle is bringing weapons on line,' he warned.

'Likely, they'll try only to disable.'

'I take it you can't you mindblast them.'

'Sorry, no. Their dampeners are on.'

Engines auto-shifted from atmospheric drive to space drive as they left the atmosphere. Suddenly, he noticed the silence. They were definitely out of atmosphere. Warren nosed down the shuttle to level out just the enemy shuttle fired a warning shot. He pushed their craft faster and the world below spun by.

'Shot fired! And we're being hailed,' he informed the Emperor in response to indicators on the control panel. In theory, the Alpha Helix should appear over the planet's horizon in another few moments. Until then, shuttle sensors were blind to it.

'We just need to delay them a few more seconds,' Ztar said, sending Archangel what he needed to know about the lifesuit's comm before refocusing on the Alpha Helix's crewmember.

Warren smiled and he opened a channel to the hailing shuttle. "May we help you?" he asked pleasantly.

There was a brief pause. "Shut down your engines immediately or our next shot will not be a warning," a stern voice commanded.

"Where has civility gone?" he goaded back. "Perhaps a please thrown in would garner cooperation."

"Your weapons are disabled, your shuttle is not space-worthy. You have few options. I will not ask again. Shut down your engines or we fire."

Just then, the Etagllot ship popped up on sensors. Warren immediately corrected course to close in on her quickly.

Ztar smiled slyly at Archangel as the ship became visible over the horizon.

"May I suggest you rethink that demand?" Warren proposed after a quick glance at the sensor readings on the Alpha Helix.

"You leave us no choice-" and the voice cut off abruptly.

"I think they're reconsidering," Warren grinned back at Ztar.

A bright ray of light shot from the Etagllot ship past their shuttle. The sensors relayed the rest of the story – the pursuit vehicle drifted dead in space, her engine destroyed.

"If only they had been more polite," Warren mused.

Ztar shook his head and laughed.

Once they settled the shuttle into the bay, the pair quickly discarded the lifesuits and bolted for the ship's bridge. Bursting onto the command deck, Warren immediately spied the crewmember standing in a trance near one of the control stations.

Ztar headed for the helm and directed Warren to standby at weapons. Since Ztar had the crewmember prep the ship for immediate departure, there was little left to do but hit the go button. Alpha Helix followed her preprogrammed route, moved away from the planet at sublight speed until they were clear to jump to FTL.

"Scanners don't show any other ships," Warren told Ztar just as they jumped. They sighed in unison.

### --- ###

Far below on Ymoz, Head Researcher Hercjell slammed her fist down hard three times on her desk. There was no response from Alpha Helix. The most logical assumption was that the powerful telepath had taken control. How was this possible? Every precaution had been taken and still the Emperor and his companion had escaped. The Emperor had been heavily sedated – comatose, in fact – and should not have been able to do what he did and thereby she couldn't imagine how the escape could have happened without inside help. Her superiors would thoroughly interrogate their one and only facility telepath, Migiun, once they were off Ymoz. Her gut told her that was the mostly likely betrayal. If the woman had anything to do with their subjects' escape, she would pay dearly.

The loss of the bionite technology was a huge blow. No telling what advancements might have been made had they unraveled their technology. Hercjell momentarily imagined her career in ruins, yet facility security wasn't her responsibility, so it might be possible to wiggle out of the debacle. There would be plenty of questions about test subject control and restraint, but she'd followed all standard protocols plus her approved enhancements. Still, she'd have to cover herself quickly and thoroughly.

Knowing the Etagllot, she reasoned they would not give up easily on acquiring the bionites. It was very possible, if she was agile enough to shed blame for the loss, she could work again on the project in the future after the human was recaptured. Hercjell began planning just how she might maneuver that into being as the order to ready for evacuation came over the intercom.

### --- ###

"Thank the gods!" Ztar spoke first, walking to the captain's chair where he sank in.

"My sentiments exactly," Warren confirmed.

Each remained silent for a minute, relishing their regained freedom.

A realization hit Warren now that the action was over. "Hey, we've got standard gravity. Feels like a weight's been lifted!"

Ztar nodded his agreement. "I should contact Gtar-Cro. We need a rendezvous point."

"While you do that, I'm finding a shower and hopefully something else to wear." Warren knew he reeked and didn't even want to think about the fact that his last shower was over a week ago. And his flimsy labwear was dirty, stiff with dried blood and sweat, and full of holes. He headed for the bridge exit. "Any idea where to start looking?"

"Deck three should be crew chambers. Try that first. Bio-sig security is inactive. You'll have access to anywhere on the ship."

"Deck three," he commanded stepping inside the lift.

In a few moments, the elevator stopped and the door slid silently open to reveal a barely lit corridor. Apparently, no one had turned on the lights yet. Warren wouldn't have any problems navigating in near darkness, but Ztar would if he came down. Stepping out into the corridor, the lights winked on. Problem solved! Now to find a shower and clothes.

The first room he entered was indeed quarters. It was simple and compact – bed, workstation, small sitting area, and a bathroom. No kitchen facilities, but there was a tiny sink, small section of counter, and what Warren recognized as the Turzent equivalent of a microwave. Warren walked over to the wardrobe and pulled open the drawers. Nothing.

On to the next quarters. It took several tries, but eventually he found chambers that had some clothing. Unfortunately, it was obviously for females. The next chambers down, though, had a small assortment of men's clothing. Holding a top and bottom up, they looked workable.

He decided to keep looking to see if he could find anything large enough for Ztar. Searching the last few chambers, he came up with little else. Ztar's seven-foot, muscular frame was not the norm. The Emperor would just have to improvise if he wanted clean clothes.

### --- ###

When Ztar's face came up on the large viewscreen in his ready room, it was the most wonderful sight he'd ever seen, aside from his child's newborn face that is.

"My Emperor! Praise to the gods you're safe!" Gtar-Cro exclaimed.

To Ztar it looked as if his long-time MI General might cry and/or collapse from exhaustion at any moment. "The gods protected us, General. Archangel is with me and also well."

"Ztar…" The General seemed to struggle to speak and used Ztar's name instead of his title, which rarely happened. "I'm told you are aboard an Etagllot ship but I know little more. Where are you headed?"

"We left the planet Ymoz a short while ago with a course laid in for Sat'rey."

"We were already en route for Ymoz when we received your distress signal."

Ztar was surprised, but yet not. Gtar-Cro was very, very good at his job. If anyone could have found them, it was his head of military intelligence. "I knew you would find us. I told Archangel that very thing." He gave the general a wide smile. "You could have gotten to Ymoz a few hours ago though – that would have saved Archangel and me a lot of trouble!" he joked.

Gtar-Cro chuckled lightly. "I look forward to hearing how you managed to escape and commandeer one of their ships." Then Gtar-Cro's face became serious. "Emperor, I'm sending the two cruisers that are with me on to Ymoz, but I'm certain by the time they arrive, the facility will be empty and perhaps destroyed."

Ztar nodded. That would be typical Etagllot behavior.

"Our ships will reach Ymoz at 12.2 tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'd like to rendezvous with you at Sarrys Station. We have much to discuss. Are either you or Archangel in need of medical attention? Is there food and water aboard the ship?"

Ztar leaned back in the captain's chair. "We're both well and I'm sure Archangel will find whatever food there may be," Ztar said unable to suppress a chuckle at that. "We're bringing two prisoners with us – the ship's technician and a shuttle tech."

The Emperor watched Gtar-Cro's face. Something flickered across it – discomfort, regret, guilt? It was not a look Ztar was used to seeing on the tough military man. He wished his empathic abilities could extend across the vastness. "General, I know how hard these past days must have been for you and your people. When I hear the details of how you managed to locate where we were being held, I believe without a doubt that I will be impressed. It is incredibly reassuring to know that had Archangel and I been unable to free ourselves, that you were on your way," Ztar shared, putting as much gratitude and faith as he could into the words.

He suspected that the three recent events – the bombing and two kidnappings – had rattled the General's confidence. The old Ztar would have felt that was fully justified and also doubted Gtar-Cro' ability to serve, but the person Ztar had become instead felt the General's pain at not being able to protect those he cared about. Ztar knew from his past mental probes of the General's mind that Gtar-Cro genuinely and deeply cared about Ztar's wellbeing. If he didn't, Gtar-Cro wouldn't be in the position he was.

Ztar recalled the pain and feeling of helplessness he had experienced when Sukja and Archangel were taken, and they were gone merely hours, not days. The guilt he took on from that event had weighed heavily until Archangel convinced him that only he blamed himself for what happened. He recalled Archangel's words – "Bad things can happen to anyone anywhere. That's life. It comes with no guarantees of safety. It is sometimes easier to blame ourselves than accept we can't control every aspect of our lives," was some of the wisdom his companion had shared. Those words were truth.

When the moment presented itself, Ztar would speak with Gtar-Cro as Archangel had spoken to him. Ztar would do what he could to help his General and friend deal with the guilt of failure he likely was taking upon himself.

### --- ###

After returning to the chambers containing the clothes, Warren ruffled and snapped his wings hard several times to release whatever sand might be so inclined to be dislodged, then quickly peeled off the filthy labwear and ducked into the small shower. 'God this feels good!' he sighed as the warm water ran over him, turning brown with dirt and dried blood. But with little room to extend his wings, Warren resigned himself that some of the sand, grim, and blood embedded in his feathers would have to stay there until they were somewhere with a larger shower. He hated the feel of grit beneath the feathers – it was like sandpaper against the membrane. Hopefully, he'd have to tolerate it a couple days worse case.

Stepping out of the shower and small bathroom, he flapped hard, sending water flying everywhere, and then finished drying off. A couple quick tears in the back of the shirt and he slipped into the wonderfully clean clothing. Shoes that fit would have been too much to ask for, so he padded around barefoot as he had done all during their escape.

'Back upstairs,' he thought. Then his stomach growled loudly and he realized he was hungry. Correction. He was ravenous! Nutrient bars only went so far. His body wanted real food now; no if, ands, or buts about it. During his search for clothing, he had spied the ship's galley at the end of the corridor. He projected out to Ztar and the telepath responded immediately, likely having kept a light mental connection with Warren once he left the bridge.

'I'm searching for food.' Warren could hear the mental chuckle. 'Found clothes for me, but you're shit outta luck!' Warren zinged over the telepathic airwaves. Serves Ztar right for laughing at his need for sustenance Warren thought with an annoyed huff.

Back down the hall, he entered the galley and started rummaging. The facility was well stocked, likely for the onboard caretaker. It didn't take long for Warren to gather enough food enjoyable at room temperature to fill his arms. Then he headed back to the bridge to savor his "light" snack.

Re-entering the bridge, someone was missing. "Where's the caretaker?"

"I sent her to the brig to keep our friend the shuttle technician from getting lonely."

"How considerate of you," Warren replied sarcastically. He'd have to remember to take them food and water…or maybe not, considering whom they worked for.

"What'd you bring us?" Ztar peered over at the armload of goodies.

"I'm having a nice selection of delicious snacks. Because you laughed at me, you can fend for yourself," he retorted in feigned indignation, laying the food out on the floor and sitting down, legs crossed. Warren decided it best not to get food all over the bridge controls.

The food indeed looked good and Ztar's own stomach was protesting its empty condition. Whatever they had been using to sustain him while unconscious had long left his system.

"My Archangel," Ztar cooed as he watched the human spread out the tasty array, "don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Ztar rose from the captain's chair and moved toward the beckoning banquet.

"Not from my perspective. I scrounged, so can you. The galley's full of food," he quipped and then took his first bite of real food in a week. "God, this tastes good!" he announced with enthusiasm as soon as he swallowed the mouthful; then he took a long draw of water. "So-o-o much better than emergency rations."

Ztar hovered doing his best to look starved.

Warren could swear the man was sucking in his cheeks to look like a feed the hungry poster child. He sighed and relented in his little game. "Very well, help yourself." Ztar quickly joined him on the floor and dug in.

They ate mostly in silence the first couple minutes. Talking would have slowed down the intact of food and both were far too hungry for that.

"I spoke with a very relieved General Gtar-Cro," the Emperor shared, his mouth half-full of a sweet treat. "We rendezvous tomorrow at Sarrys Station. He deployed troops to Ymoz, but we're certain the Etagllot will be long gone before they arrive even with us taking their ship. If history is any indicator, the research facility will be in ruins."

Warren nodded. "Exactly what I'd do if I were the Etagllot. Leave nothing behind."

"For now, we can relax. We should be safe while in FTL mode," Ztar assured.

It wasn't long before they polished off everything Warren had brought up.

Ztar gazed lovingly at his companion, realizing how very close he'd come to losing Archangel. Again. How many times now in five years? "Thank the gods you're safe." Ztar leaned over to run his hand through the golden waves that were still damp from the shower.

Warren eyed the Emperor, wrinkling his nose. "You stink!" Warren said in mock disgust, leaning away from the Emperor. "Perhaps you should go clean up. I'll watch the bridge."

"But you said I was, and I quote, "shit out of luck" for clean clothes. What good would it do?"

"I didn't check everywhere. There's got to be something on board that'll work. Use your imagination."

Ztar got up. "Very well. I'll be back later then," and the Emperor disappeared into the elevator.

Now that he was clean, fed, and alone, Warren's thoughts turned to what he could remember from the past week at the hands of the Etagllot. He quickly realized it wasn't what little he could recall that sent shivers through him, it was what he couldn't. God only knew what the rogue scientists had done to him. What lengths had the scientists gone to in an attempt to acquire the nannites? Warren wasn't sure he wanted to know. Perhaps naivety was the best option. Yet the feeling of violation was strong. Another shiver traveled down the length of his body.

"Just another little gift courtesy of Apocalypse. Damn nannites! Will I ever be free of them?" he questioned aloud. Begrudgingly, though, he had to admit one thing. Because the nannites self-destruct if removed from his body, they had also prevented the Etagllot from slicing and dicing him while he lay helpless. 'Small favor, I guess.' Warren had long ago concluded it was Apocalypse's way of ensuring no one else got his or her mitts on his handiwork.

Then other questions came to him. How did the Etagllot find out about the nannites in the first place? Was Fjai involved? How much had they managed to learn about the nannites? What were they planning to do with that knowledge? Would the Etagllot come after him again? How long would they keep trying to steal the technology housed in his body? Who else knew what a technological wonder was contained within him, and would they also want it for their own purposes? Did Warren need to be looking over his shoulder the rest of his life? All extremely unsettling questions.

"Jesus, need to think about something else," he said aloud to himself, finally getting up off the floor. 'The questions will keep 'til we meet up with Gtar-Cro. See what he's learned.'

With a full stomach and feeling relatively safe, Warren felt the tug of sleepiness. Rubbing his eyes, he thought longingly of his soft bed back at the palace, but sleep would need to wait until Ztar returned to the bridge, so he passed the time looking over control panels in an attempt to learn what he could as the ship did its thing in auto-pilot.

### --- ###

Ztar exited the elevator on deck two where the captain's chambers should be located. Immediately the lights turned on. A lounge, conference room, senior officers' chambers, infirmary, and other miscellaneous functions typically resided on the deck immediately below the bridge in this cruiser class. Since Archangel searched the crew deck and found nothing in way of clothing for Ztar, the Emperor would begin here. If nothing else, he'd shower, wash his lab specimen garb, and wear a towel while the clothes dried. Or, he smiled to himself, he and Archangel could enjoy a little recreational time while they dried. With that image, heat ran up and down his body as it did without fail whenever he contemplated private time with his beloved companion.

Bare feet slapping the cool metal floor, Ztar made his way to the first door and placed a hand on the control. As soon as the door slid open, he knew it was indeed the captain's chambers. The room was nicely appointed as one would expect, yet quite small compared to his chambers on the Mi-Lartui. The Alpha Helix would carry a complement of 50, a third the size of Ztar's Imperial cruiser. Alpha Helix had the advantage, though, of being able to operate with far less crewmembers than Mi-Lartui. In theory, the nimble cruiser could get by with only a handful of competent crew for quite some time. In a pinch and on short jaunts, one skilled person was all it took to handle the ship.

Ztar went over to the wardrobe, hoping to find something. Nothing. Leaving the chambers, he explored the rest of the officer quarters, still coming up empty-handed. Archangel said to use his imagination and that is what he needed to do if he was going to clean up. Grabbing a fist full of bedding, Ztar yanked it off the mattress with one tug and took it with him back to the captain's suite.

### --- ###

When Ztar reappeared on the bridge, Warren did a double take and then burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. The first thing that came to mind was a toga party. Ztar had fashioned himself a robe of sorts out of what appeared to be bed linens. Ztar had a pained look on his face as Warren nearly doubled over in his fit. He needed a good laugh and the Emperor kindly provided one unintentionally.

"You said to use my imagination," Ztar grumbled, moving to the captain's chair. He was not used to being so enthusiastically laughed at and it was decidedly unpleasant experience. "It's only until the clothes dry."

Archangel was still chuckling from his chair at one of the crew stations as Ztar scanned the various sensor readings and checked for any new messages from Gtar-Cro or Rehsaw. Nothing. Then he eyed the human with mild disdain. The man continued to snicker from across the bridge.

"At least show your Emperor some respect!" he chided. Ztar was not at all amused, but he wasn't angry either. He knew he looked ridiculous.

"Ztar, it's just so…un-emperor like is all. The ruler of the vast Turzent Empire running around in a toga," and Warren broke out again in a paroxysm of laughter.

"Toga?"

Archangel shot him images of togas, toga parties, and all the silly, college-age antics synonymous with the word. Ztar cracked a smile as he began to understand the meaning. Then he started laughing himself. Very un-emperor like indeed!

Once the laughing had ceased, they sat quietly for a bit. "Nothing new from Gtar-Cro?" Warren asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I didn't expect anything. I told him to hold his reports until we reach Sarrys, unless something urgent arose."

"Is Sukja coming to Sarrys?"

Ztar nodded. It would be reassuring to see his aide. The full realization of what had happened was creeping in around the edges. He and Archangel had come so close to losing everything – their freedom; likely even their lives. Ztar rose and strode leisurely toward the human. If he ever found the Etagllots that dared to touch his beloved companion, they would die slow, painful deaths. But right now, all Ztar wanted was to take Archangel into his arms to feel that reassurance.

Warren glanced up from the controls he was examining when he heard Ztar moving. 'Oh boy, he's got that look.' One thing Ztar could never conceal was the look of lust in his eyes. An errant quiver ran through his wings.

"My Archangel, if I had lost you…" Ztar let the thought dangle as he slid a hand down the nearest wing. The sensual texture across his palm and fingertips heightened his longing. Then he did something else very un-emperor like. Kneeling down in front of the human, he gazed into the crystalline-blue eyes and beautifully handsome face that made his heart skip.

"You were magnificent today. Fierce in fact! Thank you for saving my life." Ztar was filled with gratitude for what Archangel had done that day and all the sacrifices he'd made because of and for Ztar the past five years. "I cannot imagine living without you. Thank you, too, for staying with me. For putting up with my sometimes thickheaded ways," he added smiling at his use of the term Archangel had thrown his way more than once. "I'm learning…I think I'm learning how this relationship business works." He reached up and combed his fingers through Archangel's golden waves.

Warren nodded looking at the man genuflected before him. Still needful, still emotionally young, but signs of progress and growth were obvious. When would the time come that Ztar would be okay without him? Another six months, a year, longer? His belief six months ago that he'd be able to return to Earth in a year may have been overly optimistic.

"You're welcome. Thank you likewise. You are the one who really pulled our asses out of the fire."

"It took three of us. You and I, we make a good team, don't we?" Ztar said, taking Archangel's hand into his as he stood.

"Damn good team!" Warren agreed, rising as Ztar gently pulled his hand upward. Desire was smoldering in Turzent's eyes.

"I've programmed the ship to alert us of any approaching ships or if any messages are received. We needn't remain on the bridge," Ztar said in a suggestive tone, reaching out to run fingertips down the side of a wing. The resultant shiver in Archangel was a guarantee and Ztar loved it.

The Turzent's whole body started giving off one signal – lustful desire. Warren leaned into the seven-foot frame, hard with muscle and raw strength and nearly immovable when he chose to be. As Ztar's arms enveloped him, pressing his wings tight to Warren's body, he looked up into the large, brown eyes. Those eyes had changed dramatically from cold and selfish five years ago to warm and giving, particularly this past year. Something else lurked there – an almost desperate need and Warren was that need. He still worried what would happen to Ztar's mental wellness should Warren leave or be taken from the Emperor before he was sufficiently healed. Until Ztar was ready and especially while the transitioning Empire required a healthy, stable ruler, Warren would remain at the Turzent's side. Ztar may always want Warren, but there's a difference between want and need. Warren believed he would know when that transition happened. It hadn't yet.

Then Warren said what he knew would bring joy to Ztar. "Let's go to bed then."

Ztar smiled down at his companion as his heart warmed with the words. It was a funny little euphemism the human used to say he wanted sex. It was one trait from the long tally of what he loved about Archangel. Ztar would like to hear the phrase a little more often as it was he who typically took the initiative, but he knew their pairing was not natural to the human, so he would not let that small thing lessen their time together.

The captain's chambers likely offered the most comfortable accommodations; the room and bed being larger than general crew quarters. Alpha Helix was a military class vessel, not luxury class. Therefore, she did not offer any ostentatious guest suites or other upscale facilities.

As soon as they entered the chambers, Ztar pulled Archangel into a tight embrace and brought his mouth down on the human's and was greeted with an open invitation. He loved Archangel's kisses more than any he'd had in his very lengthy list of bedmates. A blend of sweet submission with a promise of dominance that was singularly seductive.

He moved his hands over and around the human's back, coming tantalizing close to the wing bases and the particularly erogenous spot that never failed to kick-start Archangel's desire. He would only tease for now, come close but not touch. Not yet. He wanted this interlude to be long and luxurious, knowing how close they came to never having it again.

As the kiss continued, Warren allowed himself to melt into it. Ztar did kissing like he did everything else concerning sex – extremely well. Just enough deep probing, just enough nipping and biting, just enough teasing to keep them endlessly and desirably interesting. He felt the large hands move up his back toward the wings and a flash of heat ran to Warren's groin just in anticipation of the touch to come. When those hands did not go to the wing bases, he felt cheated. Spreading his wings slightly as a non-verbal cue had no effect either. Ztar was teasing, but Warren wasn't angry. It was part of the delight of sex.

Pulling away from Archangel's lips, Ztar whispered, "Let's get out of these," tugging at the crew shirt Archangel wore. The human frowned lightheartedly at that.

"Just don't go ripping them off me, clothing is scarce around here!" Warren was half afraid that's exactly what Ztar would do. It happened with such frequency that their tailor had raised questions on more than one occasion about the fate of his handiwork when the man realized some of the clothing was worn once and never seen again.

"We could just stay in bed until we meet up with Gtar-Cro. I see clothing as optional." Ztar grinned evocatively as he discarded his makeshift toga with a couple firm yanks.

Warren shook his head. "You're incorrigible!"

The instant Archangel undid the front closures, Ztar drew the shirt backwards to free it from the arms and wings, dropping the garment to the floor. One pesky piece of fabric gone, one more to go. He eased them the few paces to the bed, grabbed the linens and tossed them aside, then gently lowered Archangel down onto the mattress. As soon as his companion was horizontal, he grabbed the pant legs and with one quick tug, that cloth barrier, too, was on the floor. "Now my fierce Archangel, I have you where I want you!" he proclaimed salaciously.

Warren was mildly surprised at the playfulness in Ztar considering what they had just been through. Had Ztar actually been energized by the whole escaping business? Very possibly. He was a warrior at heart, after all, having spent years in the military and then fighting his way toward building an empire, not to mention the three-year war with the Commonwealth.

"You keep up that attitude and you'll see how fierce I can be. I kicked your sorry ass before and I can do it again!" Warren declared, referring back to the time four years ago when he had downed and punched out his then hated captor. Their more recent friendly tussle, though, the Emperor came out victorious – but only because he cheated in Warren's opinion.

Ztar laughed at the memory. "A mean right hook," Ztar said as he lowered himself atop Archangel, running his hand down the length of the human's torso and back up again. "More recently, though, I remember a different outcome."

Warren gave Ztar a quick jab in the ribs, causing the Turzent to wince. "Only because you kissed me! I should have cried foul."

Ztar ran his thumb over the human's lips. "But you've won the larger fight, my Archangel. You rule this ruler now, if you didn't already know."

If Archangel was inclined to comment, Ztar didn't give him time, taking in the sensual mouth in a deep, lingering kiss. Sliding his hands beneath his companion, up the muscular back, his fingers found those special points at the wing bases and hit them in unison. Archangel inhaled sharply and arched up against Ztar's chest. Yes, those spots never failed if you knew what you were doing and Ztar knew exactly what to do. He savored the shivers of pleasure that ran through the human, the sensation adding to his own escalating arousal.

Warren kissed Ztar urgently as a skilled hand trailed along the leading edge of his right wing. Shamelessly, he spread the wings fully across the bed, enticing Ztar to explore and titillate as only he could. Ztar immediately accepted the invitation, and fingers gently shifting down between the soft contour feathers to the highly sensitive membrane beneath. He raked his nails up the contours of the Turzent's back while he entwined a leg around Ztar's, squeezing down firmly.

Ztar loved the sensual textures of his lover's feathery appendages. They were exotically alluring and wholly sexy. Even their smell was seductive – a hint of wild animal that conjured erotic fantasies. Ztar plied skill developed over the years with his companion, titillating and seducing across the breadth of the wing. The empathic connection virtually sizzled.

"Oh, god!" Warren moaned as waves of exquisite sensations ran through him. Ztar could do things to arouse Warren no one else could. Stimulating the wings was one of those things. And when Ztar was at his best, Warren could swear there was a direct neuro connection between his wings, groin, and the pleasure center of the brain. And at that moment, Ztar was very, very good!

Archangel moaned and squirmed with delight beneath Ztar. That alone gave the Turzent enjoyment. Would he ever stop being in awe of the magnificent creature that was Archangel? He dove in for more, immersing himself in his lover. He kissed his way along the wing arch, working across the smooth shoulder, up the neck, and nipped the chin. After teasing with a couple false starts, he took that perfect mouth again savagely into his.

When they came up for air, Warren grazed his lips across Ztar's and when the Turzent moved to take his mouth yet again, Warren dodged and instead nuzzled an ear, then the neck. Sliding his hands up each of Ztar's powerful arms, he latched onto Ztar's mouth but only for moments, then pulled back and nipped the lips. Then without warning, he pushed the man over on his side and rolled himself half atop Ztar. Warren looked down upon his lover, his eyes following the contours of the chiseled features with a strong chin and high cheekbones. He took in the richness of the olive brown skin and how it contrasted against the black hair highlighted with deep purplish red wherever light played off it. The gold-flecked, dark chocolate eyes were large and drew you into their depths. Ztar was very handsome by any human measure. Digging his fingers into the thick hair, he plunged in for another fiery kiss.

As the kiss continued, Ztar rolled and Archangel was once again beneath him. Releasing Archangel's mouth, he lovingly caressed his companion and took in the visual delights of the lover he'd come so close to losing…a flawless body, deep golden hair, crystalline-blue eyes with pupils dilated from lust. The face was almost too beautiful to belong to a mortal – a blending of the best of male and female features. Sensuous lips; perfect bone structure. The rest of Archangel was equally exquisite and he let his eyes roam across his lover. Not an ounce of fat on the lithe frame. Well muscled, but not overly so. Not a scar or blemish marred the flesh. A warrior with no battle marks; likely a result of his mutant healing ability. Archangel's bone structure appeared delicate, yet Ztar knew it was incredibly strong, just like the human was physically far stronger than he looked.

"If only we could hide away like this forever," he whispered to his companion, raking his fingers through the golden hair. "I love you as I've loved no other."

Through the lusty haze that shrouded awareness of much beyond the bed, Warren saw a smile cross Ztar's face and heard the tender words. In the deep brown eyes, he saw reflections of not only desire, but contentment. That contentment was telegraphing through the empathic link. Warren reached up and touched Ztar face softly, their eyes locked. Then Ztar inundated Warren with another wave of incredible sensations with a caress of his nether regions. Moaning with bliss, he was lost once again to the fevered passion.

The universe collapsed to only the bed. There was no Etagllot, no empire; just Ztar and Archangel and desire that demanded fulfillment. Fingertips and tongues, hands and lips exploring the each other, relishing the sensations of skin and feather. Nipping and biting, kissing and caressing their way up and down one another's body. The smell of sex itself intoxicating.

Ztar could have lived in the moment for eternity. If it had been possible, he would have physically merged with Archangel. He wanted to absorb him, be in him – for Archangel to be of him. The best he would do was draw out the lovemaking as long as he was capable; immerse himself in its intensity and unabashed joy of being with his companion. Archangel made him whole and fulfilled a need so deep and so aching that Ztar had once been a monster trying to satisfy it. That was all behind him now.

Warren needed Ztar to take him as the Turzent ground his groin into Warren's. His body vibrated with want for sex to reach its pinnacle – it was too much to endure any longer. "Please…Ztar…now!" he begged in a voice raspy with need.

The request swelled Ztar's heart – it was not spoken often. He'd done everything right – everything the human needed to overcome that one last small bit of resistance to being with a man and ask to be entered. He would honor the request without delay. He started slowly and gently, giving Archangel's body time to adjust. Then when the man was ready, he thrust into him fully.

Ztar hit that spot, sending delight shooting through him. Warren held on tight, crying out in his bliss as Ztar repeatedly found the mark. His body nearly went into pleasure overload.

Ztar savored each sensation of plunging in and out of his beloved as the empathic connection and his lover's utterances conveyed the perfection of his skill. Finally, he could bear to hold back no longer. In the same instant, Archangel called up the mysterious energy. Dual climaxes and purest ecstasy melded and crashed over and through them and they cried out in unison. It was all-consuming and it devoured them. Their bodies burned with its raging fire. The feeling was beyond rapturous. As the energy and climaxes ebbed, the power of it left them blissfully exhausted. Ztar rolled to Archangel's side, resting carefully atop a wing still spread across the bed.

"My god, Ztar," Warren managed between panting breaths, "that was… beyond amazing!"

Ztar was pleased beyond words. Rarely did Archangel offer a critique of his work. He gazed at Archangel with loving tenderness. The man glistened with sweat – on Archangel it looked incredibly sexy.

Shifting around to free the wing, Ztar pulled his companion even closer so his head rested on Ztar's broad shoulder. Lying with Archangel wrapped in his embrace, they rested as breathing and heart rates returned to normal. Suddenly Archangel shivered, then reached down and drew up the bedcovers.

"You forgot to turn up the heat?" Warren asked groggily of Ztar, snuggling tight against the Turzent for warmth. The expenditure of the passionate energy always left him drained. Sleep would claim him soon.

Ztar felt slumber pulling at him also. "A slight oversight. My apologies," he answered, his voice still husky from sex. "But this," he squeezed tighter, "is worth the chill."

"One more thing, Ztar," Warren said quietly, eyes closed in restful sleepiness.

"What's that?"

"You need to get scanned for nannites."

Ztar groaned deeply and then settled in, falling asleep quickly.

Listening to the Turzent's slow, steady breathing, Warren's mind drifted with thoughts of how his life was unfolding. Yet another brush with death and he had come out virtually unscathed. How many times could he cheat the grim reaper?

Life had become so very odd, one improbable step at a time, to arrive at a point where he was lying in the arms of a man and actually found it pleasurable. He had grown quite fond of Ztar – almost frighteningly so if he was honest with himself. Lying wrapped within the strong arms, he felt…what? Contentment? Just what were these feelings toward the alien? They were conflicting with yearnings for home and female companionship. He wanted to feel the pleasures of a woman again.

Merryth's smiling face came to him. She represented what he was giving up to remain at Ztar's side and in his bed. He felt pulled by opposing desires and needs. 'Has a tug of war had broken out?' he wondered and then immediately discarded. 'Not possible,' he assured himself. 'That could only be if you had fallen in love with Ztar and you have not. Don't confuse the bond of friendship and amazing sex with something it's not.' And then sleep quieted his conflicted mind.

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The next section still needs quite a bit of editing, so it'll likely be several days.

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