Previously:
Private Residence of Mary Crawley, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, July 2199
"Goodness, Matthew Crawley committing a petty crime? What is the galaxy coming to?" she teased, coming over and sitting down on the bed.
"You're worth the risk," he nodded.
She smiled and looked down at her hands.
"Mary, I know the last little while has been difficult for us. You've been busy. I've been busy. We've been separated and haven't had much time for each other," he began.
She nodded and averted her eyes.
"I know how important this mission is for you, for all of us," he continued. "I don't enjoy being without you. We've had more than enough separation in our lives, I believe."
She turned to look at him. "I agree."
"We'll be able to make up for everything when this is all over," he nodded. "For now, I want you to focus on what you must do and know that I support you and believe in you. I'm not thrilled with this situation and I won't ever be particularly pleased with it, but you had to wait for me for months and you did. If I need to wait for you for a few more weeks, I'll do it."
She swallowed. "Matthew…"
"Just…" he managed, smiling and looking down before returning his gaze to hers. "Just be great, my darling. I'll be here for as little or as much as you need me to."
She nodded and smiled. "Are you in your chambers?"
"I am," he replied. "I've been sitting here waiting for the proximity sensor to tell me you came home."
She laughed and stood back up.
"Well, if you're off-duty officially, there's something you can help me with," she stated.
"Of course," he nodded. "What's that?"
"I'm not quite sure that I know what to wear to bed tonight," she smirked, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. "Care to give your opinion?"
"It would be my honour," he nodded.
Chapter 17:
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
"Your scans are normal. All within acceptable ranges and consistent with your history. When did you say you started getting headaches?" Sybil asked, looking up at her sister's image on the large wall display.
"I didn't," Mary grumbled, rolling her eyes. "Anna saw me cringe during lunch the other day and decided to snitch."
Sybil laughed and shook her head. "Were you eating something spicy?"
Mary nodded. "Flying fish. It's a delicacy here that Kemal cooked for me the other night. I saw it on the menu of this spot by the water that Anna and I went to, so I ordered it. It's quite delicious, but the sauce is fairly hot."
"The Minister cooks, now?" Sybil smirked.
Mary arched her eyebrow. "He's a very good cook, yes. Why wouldn't he be?"
"No reason," Sybil shrugged. "I merely assumed he would have a kitchen staff as part of his retinue."
"He does," Mary smiled. "We came back from an event rather late and hadn't eaten a thing. He didn't want to bother ordering anything, so he made us dinner himself."
"What a hero," Sybil nodded.
"Sybil," Mary warned. "Don't be stupid."
"I'm merely pointing out that the esteemed politician with the handsome face, fit body, sharp wit and supposedly brilliant mind also cooks, apparently," Sybil grinned. "He's got quite the total package, doesn't he? If you are going to spend weeks away from your real boyfriend, Mr. Pamuk is a quite decent replacement, rather."
"He's a fine gentleman, yes," Mary rolled her eyes. "He'll make someone quite happy one day, I expect. Are we done here?"
"Drink some more water and get more sleep," Sybil replied. "That's an order, Captain. You're running yourself ragged with all of these new projects of yours, so it's no wonder if you feel a bit of a strain every now and again."
"I am not feeling strained," Mary protested. "I am also not taking on that much, thank you."
"Matthew mentioned that you woke him quite late last night," Sybil retorted.
Mary shook her head and scoffed. "That man cannot keep a thing to himself."
"Oh, don't blame him. He was looking a bit ragged at breakfast this morning, so I sussed it out of him, really."
"Of course, you did," Mary shook her head. "I will drink more water and try to get more sleep. It's not easy when you have two men to satisfy, you know."
Sybil laughed. "Truer words were never spoken."
"Tell Captain Crawley that I said hello," Mary smirked.
"Tell him yourself," Sybil replied. "Won't you be speaking with him today at some point?"
"I've got loads going on," Mary shrugged. "There are interviews and meetings for the charity campaign, as well as organizing the next set of rallies for the weekend."
"Britain and New Byzantium – Forward Together," Sybil nodded.
"The marketing people came up with the slogan, not me," Mary frowned. "Anyway, it's resonating with the public. Attendance has been sold out consistently and the approval ratings are up."
"I'm not surprised with you and Kemal always taking the stage together to play to the audience," Sybil noted.
"We do what we must," Mary said, putting on her diamond earrings. "I need to go and finish getting ready before I meet Kemal for breakfast. Have a great day, darling."
"You, too," Sybil replied, blowing her sister a kiss before they signed off.
Shaking her head, Sybil rose from her desk and went out to the examination area to greet her current group of patients. The computer continued to monitor Mary's brainwaves and vital measurements, the readings showing to be well within normal ranges.
Private Residence of Kemal Pamuk, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
"It would make our plans far easier if we could have the Andromeda dispatched elsewhere," the assistant noted.
Kemal smirked. "Dispatched elsewhere? And where do you think Lady Mary will go when her ship departs?"
"She'll remain here by your side," the assistant smiled. "That's her place now, no?"
The Minister chuckled. "That sounds like the kind of stressful decision that would undo all the meticulous training we've put her through over the past months."
"Or solidify it," the assistant countered. "She's been getting treatments every day, hours of brainwaves, images sent to her subconscious while she sleeps, layers upon layers of suggestions. She ought to be ready by now."
"You've seen her brain activity," he shrugged. "Does she seem ready?"
The assistant frowned. "No."
"She's close and getting closer by the day. Impatience at this point would ruin all we've achieved," he noted. "Besides, it's helpful to keep her ship here, along with her crew. It gives her a sense of safety, of familiarity, and that, in turn, makes her far more susceptible."
"Their tracking capabilities are advanced," the assistant grumbled. "It will become increasingly difficult to mask our efforts the deeper she gets into her program."
"I have every confidence in you and your team," he grinned. "Now, is that all? I'm meeting Mary for breakfast shortly."
"That's all, yes, Minister," the assistant nodded.
"Good," he smirked, taking a quick glance at his watch. He looked back at her, a toothy grin filling his face. "Now, on your knees."
The assistant smiled and removed her robe before falling to her knees before him.
"As you command, Minister," she smiled, looking up at him as she undid his trousers.
Royal Palace for the Performing Arts, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
"You are playing with it again, my dear," Kemal smirked, casting a sideways glance at Mary as they walked down the aisle towards the stage.
She smiled at him before averting her eyes and dropping her fingers away from the diamond necklace sweeping down across her chest.
"Apologies," she laughed quietly, leaning towards him and keeping her voice down. "It's just so very beautiful. You really should not have."
"I didn't, to be fair," he shrugged. "The media will believe that I did, though, which is the important thing."
She nodded, sliding her hand further along his forearm. "Showering your girlfriend with expensive gifts. The rumours will fly."
"I much prefer when we receive coverage for the initiatives that you have been leading, Mary," he said. "However, the marketing people believe that we must have a few reminders about our relationship out there. They are afraid that the public will be confused."
She arched her eyebrow and looked over at him as they reached the elevated stage. "Confused? As to what, pray?"
He turned to her and placed a light kiss on her cheek in full view of the assembled guests.
"Confused as to how I could possibly have gotten you to fall in love with me on my own qualities alone," he whispered, before motioning towards the stage and allowing her to step up first.
She smiled brilliantly at him and squeezed his arm before moving elegantly up to take her usual seat just behind the dais. Applause rang out through the auditorium as Kemal followed her.
The President of the Royal Performing Arts Academy spoke first, droning on about the achievements over the past year. Highlights of key performances played on video screens around the hall. Mary's fingers found her diamond necklace again, flicking it back and forth idly as she sat perfectly straight.
"Is there any cause on the colony that you are not a patron of?" she asked, keeping a serious countenance and her voice down.
"Most of it is symbolic," he replied. "I don't do any actual work beyond showing up, nodding and smiling. The heavy lifting is done by the staff. You've seen it for yourself. We have so many tremendous workers who just want to help build a better colony for others. It's quite inspiring."
She smiled. "That sounded quite sentimental. Careful, Minister. A politician with a heart could be seen as quite weak. Don't you wish to be ruthless and cunning?"
He reached over and squeezed her hand, keeping his eyes on the speaker. "Don't you know by now, my dear? I don't have a heart."
"No?" she questioned.
"No," he shook his head, his eyes glancing over at her quickly. "You're carrying it for me."
She pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing. "Oh, how very smooth."
He nodded and looked back at the speaker. "You like that, do you? It was quite successful back in university."
"You had the girls swooning at that, did you?" she smirked, arching her eyebrow.
"Not quite, no. The lunch lady thought I was adorable, however," he remarked.
She smiled and applauded when the speaker called Kemal up to the stage to make his address.
Kemal waved to the audience and shook his head when they rose to their feet to applaud him. With a sheepish grin, he motioned for them to be seated before beginning his address. He spoke of the importance of the arts in his own life, how his mother would not have been able to afford to bring him to the symphony if it was not for the Young Musicians program that allowed him to perform on this very stage in front of thousands when he was a child.
As if on cue, a video of a young Kemal Pamuk playing the Oud flashed on the screen.
Mary laughed along with the audience.
"I was promised that all such incriminating footage was deleted some time ago," he deadpanned, casting a stern look at the President, who feigned ignorance.
Mary watched on as Kemal continued his speech, moving easily to mention government funding initiatives and corporate donor programs that everyone knew he had helped champion. She noticed that the audience seemed to follow his every word and motion as if each person in the vast auditorium was engaged in a private conversation with the man.
Her hand moved back up to her diamond necklace, playing with the gems as a familiar warmth spread through her chest. From his raised platform, Kemal appeared magisterial, presiding over his subjects, who devoured his every word and smile as if they were being blessed.
Her smile remained when he took his second standing ovation at the end of his speech, and all through the rest of the ceremony. Her hand only left her necklace to applaud and take his arm as they departed.
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
"I think that she ought to have your eyes," Anna frowned, running her fingers over the tablet. "Blonde hair, brown eyes is a nice look."
"Blonde hair, blue eyes is perfectly beautiful, also," Alex replied, slowly lowering himself to a prone position, balancing his weight on his hands and toes.
"Well, we don't want her to be an exact copy of me," she shrugged. "Now, what about predispositions?"
"What about them?" he asked, grunting as he lifted one arm and extended it in front of himself while lifting one leg behind him.
"Should she be an athlete or a student? Your genetics are above average for fast-twitch muscle fibres, so she could be a runner," she noted.
"That's fine," he nodded.
"Then again, perhaps it's better if she is an endurance athlete. We could balance out the fast-twitch with slow-twitch. She could be a decathlete," she muttered.
"Anna," he sighed, holding the position for another second before he sat back up. "Don't you think you're overthinking this?"
"I want our child to have every possible advantage," she retorted. "If we get the programming right, she'll be so much further ahead from birth."
"Yeah, it sounds like she'll be winning the Infant Olympics right from the off," he shook his head. "And how exactly did we decide that we are going to have a daughter?"
"I think it's easier to have the girl first," she explained. "They develop faster. When we have our son, he'll have an older sister to look after him."
"There's nothing wrong with having two boys, or two girls, or just the one," he said, rising to his feet and wiping his face with a towel. "Don't you want to leave anything to nature? It's supposed to be the miracle of life, not a shopping checklist."
"And what if the miracle of life gives us genetic defects or worse?" she snapped. "Don't you want our child to be healthy?"
"Yes, of course, I do," he nodded, coming to her side and sitting down. "But I don't want to know everything there is to know about him or her before he or she is even born. Being a parent means loving your child no matter what they may, or may not, be capable of, and raising them the right way regardless of what they may look like."
"Being a parent is hard enough without having to deal with behavioural problems or disease," she frowned. "I just want to reduce the risks."
"The hair and eye colour of our child has nothing to do with behavioural problems or disease," he said, snatching the tablet from her hands.
"Hey!" she complained.
He kept her at bay with one arm while he flicked his fingers over the tablet. "Now, here we are, genetic defect reduction and disease control. That's fair."
"Let me do it!" she argued, punching his shoulder.
"Hair – natural selection, Eyes – natural selection, Body type – natural selection, Sex – natural selection," he recited, toggling off all the choices that she had previously picked.
"Oh, you're maddening!" she growled, kneeling beside him and lunging for the tablet.
He kept it out of her reach and wound his arm around her waist. "There we are. Our child can now be anything that he or she wishes to be, without interference or expectation, in exactly the same way that you and I were born and raised."
He tossed the tablet aside.
"You're being ridiculous," she whinged, folding her arms over her chest as he pulled her onto his lap. "You had genetic screening."
"I did," he acknowledged. "The basic set of risk prevention, which is what I've selected for our child, also. You didn't have genetic screening, love, and look how you turned out."
She scoffed. "Mum couldn't afford it. We can."
"Just because we can afford it doesn't mean we should go out and do it," he cautioned. "People had perfectly healthy and happy babies for millennia before advanced genetic screening and sperm and egg programming was invented."
"Women used to carry their children for nine months before labour, also," she frowned. "Would you like me to do that, as well?"
"No," he smirked. "Though I am looking forward to all of the lovely curves that you are going to get."
She slapped his chest as his hands drifted down to squeeze her bottom. "Stop it."
"Anna," he said, lifting her chin so she could look at him. Her glare remained angry, though she huffed and gave him her attention.
"I love you," he declared. "You are the most incredible, brilliant, beautiful and hilariously annoying woman in the galaxy. I know that our child will be lucky to have you for a mother and we will raise him or her to be the very best person that they can be. Our child will be unique and special and all our own. I don't want to pick and choose these characteristics as if we're building a project of some kind. Life can be messy and difficult and unpredictable, and that's what is so wonderful about it. It should be an adventure, not reduced to a series of bullet points."
Her frown lightened, though she still remained perturbed. "I know. I just worry…"
"My love, being a parent means worrying constantly, I'm sorry to tell you," he smiled. "Whatever our child looks like, he or she will be beautiful to us. Whatever they want to be, we will encourage it, within reason."
"Let's hope he doesn't inherit your cooking skills or else he'll be in huge trouble," she teased.
"Excuse me?" he blinked, looking at her pointedly. "My cooking skills won you over, didn't they?"
"I don't know if it was so much your cooking as it was you would always wear those tight shirts when you would cook for me," she smirked, running her hand over his chest.
"I'm nothing but a piece of meat to you, am I?" he grunted, pulling her closer.
"A most delectable one, yes," she grinned before kissing him.
One hand moved down and slid past the waist of her trousers to cup her bottom, while the other reached up and wound into her hair.
"You know what it does to me when you work out in front of me, don't you?" she drawled between kisses. "And I'm quite fertile today, which means I've been thinking about sex all day long."
"Having improper thoughts while on duty, Commander?" he teased. "That must be a protocol violation of some kind."
"Mmhmm," she nodded, kissing him lightly and snuggling against him. "A very serious one, indeed. I deserve punishment."
He laughed and moved her leg over him so she straddled his thighs. He kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as she shifted her hips against him wantonly.
"You love that, don't you?" she drawled, slipping her tongue against his.
"The thought of you thinking about having sex with me throughout the day or the thought of you getting punished for it?" he asked between kisses.
"Both," she laughed sultrily. "You love making me do everything you say."
"Only if you enjoy it, my love," he replied, sliding his hand under her tunic and fondling her breast.
"You know that I do," she nodded. "You know that I love it when you take control of me."
"Only in the bedroom, though," he chuckled. "I can't get you to do anything beyond that."
"You're ruining the mood, you know," she smirked, biting his lower lip.
"Sorry," he laughed before kissing her again.
"Oh, you will be," she promised, kissing him quickly before she moved down to nibble at his neck.
"Fuck, love," he groaned, his head falling back against the sofa.
She moved down his body, pressing kisses to his chest and stomach. His pulse was still racing from his workout and her ministrations, and she moaned as she feasted on his warm, fragrant skin.
"So good," he breathed, looking down at her smiling face as she kneeled between his legs.
He lifted his hips to help her shove his shorts down. A harsh grunt flew from his open mouth when she took hold of him and swiped her tongue all along his length.
"Eyes open," she ordered, her eyes bright and mischievous as she took him in her mouth.
"Fuck," he growled, his hands taking hold of her head as she eased more and more of him back towards her throat.
He babbled and groaned as she bobbed her head on him, his fingers sliding through her soft blonde hair. Their eyes remained locked on each other, the image before him of his wife taking him over and over thrilling and intensely arousing.
"Not yet," she teased, lifting her head and pressing light kisses to his hard flesh.
"Fuck," he complained, dropping his hands from her head.
She laughed and rose to her feet, turning around and giving him a playful smile over her shoulder.
He swallowed and watched as she slowly stripped out of her tunic and bra before bending over and slowly easing her skirt down her legs. Her panties soon followed, and he moaned anew, running his hand up her leg and over her bottom.
"Ready?" she asked, placing her hands on his thighs and rocking herself back against him.
"Yeah," he rasped, his hands moving up her body to fondle her breasts.
"Good boy," she smiled, turning her head and kissing him as she took him slowly inside of her from behind, settling on his lap eventually, writhing in his hold from the fullness of him.
He pinched her breast and reached up to take hold of her cheek, bringing her closer as his tongue slid into her mouth and kissed her deeply.
"Fuck me," she chanted between kisses, working her hips as he thrust up into her faster and faster. She was soon bouncing in his hold, her hands raised above her head and hanging on to him as he rocked her back and forth, taking complete control of their rhythm and giving her all of him again and again.
As his strong thrusts drove her closer and closer to her peak, she threw her head back and shouted, knowing how much he loved it when she was loud for him. Her own desire spiralled higher and higher as she felt him swell within her, and she went flying when she felt his release fill her up.
Victory Stadium, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
The vast stadium was filled to capacity, row upon row of sports fans waving their banners and shouting. Music boomed from the speakers and the videos playing on the large screens encouraged the crowd to get even louder. Underneath the stands, the two teams waited patiently in the tunnel leading out to the playing field.
"It's quite loud, isn't it?" Mary noted, leaning towards Kemal so she could be heard. Though the tunnel was relatively quiet, they could hear the din above them.
"This is for the League Championship," he replied, squeezing her hand. "It's one of the events of the year. One hundred thousand fans outside and millions more watching the broadcast."
She nodded and absently smoothed out her dress once more, playing with a phantom piece of lint.
"You'll be fine," he assured her. "It's all part of the ceremony, that's all. By the time the match begins, everyone will have forgotten about us."
She took a deep breath. In her time with Kemal, she had attended numerous functions at his side. They were mainly staid and traditional affairs, not unlike many of the events she was required to go to as a Captain of the Royal Navy. While being in a foreign land added an exotic element to the proceedings, they were all variations on what she was well used to.
This was entirely different.
She didn't quite understand the sport. It was a modified version of football, but with much different rules. What caught her attention, however, was the sheer volume of the crowd, which was now into a full-on roar in anticipation of the team presentation, and the players themselves.
She glanced to her left and right casually, trying not to linger too much as she took in the athletes. They were all well over six feet tall, and all incredibly fit. The defenders were stocky and thick, the strikers lean and athletic, but all of them seemed to be layered in muscle.
There was a growing tension in the small space. The players shifted from side-to-side, some seemed to be praying, others staring intensely ahead to the exit and the field beyond. A few were listening to music on small earbuds, bobbing their heads to some personal beat.
She swallowed and brought her fingers to her diamond necklace, a soothing breath leaving her lips as she fidgeted with the familiar gems. It was as though she was poised at the start line of some great race, the very air itself heavy with anticipation, everyone around her coiled in preparation for what was to come.
The players began clapping and shouting to each other and her pulse jumped as the noise from both teams grew louder and louder. A pleasant anthem began playing outside and suddenly she was walking, following the procession towards the field. She straightened her posture, held her chin high and marched along, the fierce roar of the crowd enveloping her as she stepped out into the bright lights of the stadium.
"Stay close to me," Kemal whispered, waving to the crowd.
She nodded slightly. The teams lined up on the field while the officials and dignitaries stood in between them. She took a moment to cast her eyes about the arena. 100,000 fans felt like a million with how enthusiastically they cheered and danced to the pulse of the music.
The players were introduced to applause from the supporters and jeers from their rivals. The Championship would be decided between the largest capital club and its eternal foe from the northern suburb. Kemal was a long-time patron of the capital team.
Once the ceremonies were over, he took her hand and escorted her to his team. The players nodded and smiled as she passed, and she returned their greetings in kind. Not for the first time, she was the only woman among the assembled group. She didn't generally pay that fact any mind, however, this time it was rather stark given the sheer physical presence of the players. Rather than continue on to the stands and up to the Royal Box, Kemal stopped on the field and the team gathered around them. She blinked in surprise, her heartbeat racing faster as the men circled around them and drew in, close enough that she could feel a warmth from their presence surround her.
"Lions!" Kemal yelled.
"Huaahh!" the players chanted in reply.
Her gasp was swallowed by the noise around them.
"We are here now to take what is ours!" Kemal continued.
"Huaahh!" the team shouted, linking arms around each other's shoulders and stepping even closer now.
"Do not even think about the infidels that oppose us today! They are nothing! Less than nothing!" Kemal urged them on. "This league, this championship, we own it! We own it all!"
"Huaahh!" the players were bouncing on their toes now, rocking back and forth. They were as one, a pulsing mass, with Kemal and Mary in the centre.
"For months we have fought, for months we have battled, for months we have won!" Kemal yelled, the players hanging on his every word.
Her breath caught, his speech seeming to turn all the men around her more menacing and powerful, as if he was casting some spell that would give them all limitless strength to unleash upon their enemies.
"Tonight, we conquer! Tonight, we feast! Tonight, we make history! Tonight, we are legends!" Kemal screamed.
"Huaahh!" the players shouted in delirium.
She was jumping along with them now, pulled into a mob of muscle and flesh, clinging to Kemal as the group seethed with energy. She could feel the press of hands and bodies around her, the roar of their chants in her ears. Adrenaline and excitement and fear filled her veins. It was so unlike the nerves she felt before battle when standing on the Bridge of the Andromeda. She was right in the trenches now, amongst the combatants themselves, feeling their hunger and desire and thirst to vanquish their foes and claim their spoils.
Kemal's arm came around her waist and pulled her to him. Her hand came to rest on his chest and she smiled up at him, his dark eyes seeming to blaze in the bright lights.
"Victory!" he shouted, grinning at her.
"Victory!" the players shouted back again and again, louder and louder until they were screaming.
"Victory!" she cheered, yelling to the sky above.
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
The Captain's Table in the Mess Hall was located in the centre of the large room. It was a circular table that comfortably fit Matthew, Mary and all of their senior staff. While they usually used conference rooms for actual strategic meetings, they liked to eat together when possible so that the rest of the ship's crew saw them united as a group. Most crew members ate with their departments or with friends on the same shift schedule and kept to their own groups. Matthew made a point that high-ranking officers should be approachable and friendly, and at least interact with other crew members in the Mess Hall. Mary was much more adept at socializing, of course, but with her away, he did his best to greet others and say a few words.
Due to conflicting schedules, it was rare that all the senior staff ate together at once. A few would have to miss out here and there, which left the somewhat comical image of the large round table being less than full.
Or the downright hilarious sight that was on display today.
"We could have chosen a more…" Sybil frowned.
"A more what?" Matthew asked lightly, grinding some black pepper on to his pasta.
She sighed and glanced around at the twenty-two empty seats around them. "A more appropriately sized table."
"Darling, this is the Captain's Table and this is where the Captain and his staff ought to eat," he shrugged.
"Yes, that's true, however, it does appear rather…" she grumbled, stabbing her fork into her steak.
"Rather…?" he probed.
"Rather unnecessary," she nodded slowly, gesturing around them. "All this space, not to mention the place settings."
Matthew looked briefly over the table. The Hall staff had set all 24 places with the usual allotment of dishes, cutlery, glasses and perfectly folded napkins.
"Seems normal to me," he stated, going back to his food.
She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what are you up to this evening?"
"Not much. I'm going to review the rosters for tomorrow and might head to the gym later. You?" he asked.
"Tom's taking me to see that new show once he finishes his shift," she replied, taking a bite of her steak.
"Ah, the musical at the Royal Theatre? I've heard it's good, yes," he nodded.
"You could always come with us," she suggested.
"Thank you, but I'm all right," he smiled at her. "I would never want to interrupt date night."
She gave him a wry frown. "Please, it isn't as if we're going to be making out during the show."
"No, just during the Intermission," he teased.
She laughed. "Well, I do need to give him an incentive to stay for the Second Act."
"Exactly," he smirked. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."
"I do worry about you," she sighed. "You're running poor Anna ragged with how often you want to review the rosters, and the work schedules, and the shift changes, and the materials orders…"
"I'm merely doing my job, that's all," he noted.
She shook her head. "You're keeping yourself busy and distracted."
"If this is going to be another one of your 'go and spontaneously surprise Mary' speeches…." he warned.
"It worked last time, didn't it?" she countered.
"Darling, you do understand that when one does something over and over again, it no longer remains spontaneous?" he questioned. "It becomes just conforming to the fitness of things, doing what's expected."
"Are you more concerned about being spontaneous or spending time with your girlfriend?" she asked.
"I'm not concerned about either," he replied. "Mary knows where we stand. We've no need for gestures."
"By my count it's been almost three weeks since you last saw each other in person," she noted.
"And what of it?" he frowned. "We were apart for months before and we're still together now."
"Please do not tell me you're trying to break her record for waiting," she retorted.
"I am not," he shook his head. "She's on a mission. There is no need for me to interrupt that mission with stolen moments and secret rendezvous just to keep myself in her thoughts. We're stronger than that. When she wraps, we'll be gone from here and be able to make up for lost time, and we will."
"And when do you suppose that will be?" she asked.
"A few more weeks at most," he nodded. "The ratification vote will take place and that will be the end of our assignment."
"If the accord passes," she pointed out.
"Well, if it doesn't, we won't be staying here, that's for certain," he said.
They continued eating, she not entirely satisfied with his answers, and he hoping she would change the subject.
"Excuse me, Captain Crawley?"
They both looked up to find a young ensign with red hair and large green eyes standing nearby, her hands linked behind her back.
"Yes, Ensign?" Matthew nodded. "How may I help you?"
The ensign swallowed nervously and glanced back at what seemed to be a table of her friends who were watching on intently.
"Erm, sir, it's just that Engineering is having its Seasonal Ball next week," the young woman explained.
"Yes," he nodded. "I hear it's often quite fun."
Sybil quickly took a sip of water to hide her smirk.
"Oh, yes, it is!" the ensign agreed eagerly. "Were you planning on attending?"
He blinked. "I had not planned on it, no. Why do you ask?"
Her face seemed to flush. "Well, sir, I…that is…we…the Engineering Department…we would be most pleased if you could make an appearance, Captain."
Sybil glanced down at her lap and became quite preoccupied with her napkin.
He glanced at her in confusion before returning to the ensign. "I'll see what I can do."
The ensign grinned. "That would be wonderful! I'll save you a dance, then!"
He nodded slowly. "Fine. That sounds lovely."
"Thank you, Captain," she nodded enthusiastically. "Enjoy the rest of your dinner, sir."
"And you, as well," he replied.
Sybil remained quiet until the ensign had returned to her table and round of laughter had broken out.
"Well, she was quite perky," she noted finally.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, returning to his pasta.
"Perky. She was showing off her tits to you," she explained.
He almost choked on the spaghetti.
"She was hardly doing anything so inappropriate."
"Why do you think she had her hands behind her back?" she enquired.
"I thought she was nervous," he noted.
She rolled her eyes. "Right. Not because it happens to push her chest out."
"We are not talking about a crew member's chest," he declared.
"Are you actually going to go to the Seasonal Ball?" she questioned.
"As I told her, I wasn't planning on it, but I don't see what's wrong with popping in just to say hello," he shrugged.
"Mmmhmm, you'll be saying more than hello if she and her gaggle over there have their way," she retorted.
He frowned at her. "Her gaggle? Sybil…"
"They've probably got some kind of bet going as to which one can have you first," she muttered.
"Sybil, honestly," he sighed.
"You can be so oblivious, you know that?" she shook her head.
"I'm their Captain. That's all," he stated.
"You're an attractive man in a position of power," she replied. "Many women find that irresistible, the idea of being given orders, surrendering to another's control. It can be entirely intoxicating."
He snorted. "You think that I come across as domineering?"
She smiled. "You don't, which is what makes it all the more appealing. The quiet ones are always the wildest."
"Sybil," he rolled his eyes.
"There's a safety about you, darling," she continued. "You're a gentleman. Behaving badly for you is arousing because it's obvious you would always keep your partner safe regardless of how intense the experience."
"It's obvious?" he frowned. "I hardly think that others see me in such a fashion."
"Just as I said," she arched her eyebrow. "Oblivious."
He watched her quizzically as she ate her dinner. "What does it matter? I'm clearly in a relationship."
"That's not clear to anyone but those of us who know," she answered, sipping her water. "The crew has heard some gossip, but Mary isn't here and is dating someone else now, or so it would seem."
He grumbled and took a drink.
"You're saying you've never been tempted? Not even a little? It doesn't make you a monster, darling, just a man, that's all," she smirked.
He waved his hand dismissively. "I have a partner. If I'm going to dominate anyone, it will be her."
She laughed heartily.
He huffed. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Oh, yes, you most certainly did," she giggled. "And good on you. The two of you could use some more intensity."
"We are not discussing the precise details of what your sister and I get up to," he warned.
"Oh, I've already heard all about it," she remarked.
He rolled his eyes. They ate in silence for several more minutes, she smugly content to devour her steak, while he picked at his pasta.
"Is that true?" he finally asked. "What you said about women and being attracted to power and all that?"
She sipped her water and nodded. "It isn't the only thing. I just think that it's exciting when someone can show you a side of themselves that you weren't expecting. Feeling wanted, desired, it's a very heady experience, and makes you want to do things that you perhaps would not have contemplated normally."
He watched her closely as a mysterious smile crossed her lips before she went back to eating.
A cheer rang out from across the Mess Hall. They both turned their heads to look over at a group of crew members clapping and laughing in front of the large display screen on the far wall.
"What's that all about?" she asked.
He watched for a few moments before nodding in comprehension. "Oh, they're watching the Championship match for the pro league here. Seems that Lions has won."
"Lions?" she repeated.
"They're the capital club, one of the largest," he explained. "They were the favourite."
From their table, they could make out the wild celebrations on the pitch, the players hugging each other and dancing around in a large circle. While the volume was turned down, it was clear the supporters in the stands were cheering in full voice.
"Men and their sports," she sighed, shaking her head. "You all actually believe it means something, don't you?"
"Everyone likes a winner," he said, going back to his pasta.
Champions Bar, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
The music was loud, with a pulsing beat and frenetic rhythm. Colourful beams flashed all over the room, alternating with rapidly moving spotlights that would showcase different areas on the dance floor before moving on. The crowd was jubilant, ravenous, laughing and cheering constantly as the party carried on into the early hours.
Mary gyrated her hips, her hands raised above her head, her hair twirling about as she danced in glorious abandon.
It felt so wonderful to be a winner.
Following the victory in tonight's match, Kemal hosted a victory dinner at Paradise Restaurant and Lounge, the same venue where he staged his birthday party. Everyone was dressed in their elegant finery, the players looking rather cute in their tuxedos after ending the Final in a sweaty heap. Team officials, politicians and various dignitaries were in attendance, and she smiled and nodded her way through, sitting next to Kemal and cheering along with the many celebratory toasts.
Once the meal was finished and the crowd began to leave, they did their usual photo ops before disappearing into their waiting limousine. Rather than go back to their suites, they headed deeper into the Entertainment District to this nondescript basement bar with no sign above the door.
They slipped inside unnoticed, and Mary held tight to Kemal's arm, unused to the dark hallways and cramped space. They passed three more doors guarded by burly security guards before emerging into a surprisingly cavernous hall, with a dark ceiling that could not be seen through the maze off light rigs and speakers, and several granite-covered bars with towering walls of bottles at the ready.
"Now, we celebrate," he whispered to her and his deep tone and the shock of the music starting up made her pulse jump.
That was hours ago.
She had lost track of him at one point. He had gone to fetch her another drink and not yet returned. Her empty glass had been taken from her hand at one point and now she was left dancing amongst the crowd, the warm press of bodies around her only heightening her mood.
Various players had come around while she was on the dance floor. Many wanted photographs, which she gladly obliged. Their tuxedo jackets and vests and ties had long been discarded and she could feel the heat of them through their dress shirts and trousers. It was a heady mix, to be surrounded by them and to have their attention focused on her. Ever since Kemal's rousing speech at the beginning of the match, she had felt on edge, eagerly anticipating the next grand event in the evening. First, it was being captivated by the game, growing more and more excited as victory approached. Going on to the field with Kemal to celebrate with the team was intoxicating, his arm around her waist and their cheerful shouts ringing out into the night air. The dinner was more staid, but a delicious pause before the real festivities began. She felt alive, a slight thrill coursing through her at the idea of being here in this secret place at a ridiculously late hour, behaving far less like a Captain or Lady and more like a woman out for some fun.
She touched her diamond necklace as she danced, the weight of it a reassuring comfort as she moved.
Her mind drifted aimlessly, reliving the events and emotions of the evening. Her admiration for the colony and its people continued to grow the more time she spent with Kemal and glimpsed these aspects of his life. Her outlook had always been so grand, a life spent exploring the stars keeping her sights on lofty goals and always looking towards the next adventure. Here on New Byzantium, life revolved around enjoying what was right in front of them, living in the moment and drawing every ecstatic joy from each day. Kemal was as driven a man as she ever met, and yet, he also took time to enjoy himself, to celebrate with others. She had no doubt of his ambition, but his focus on making his own colony better was quite appealing. There was something to be said for having a true place to call one's home, rather than drifting from one mission to another aboard a starship.
She smiled as she felt hands on her hips and the press of a firm body against her back.
"I thought you'd gotten lost," she teased, turning her head slightly while still moving her hips.
He matched her rhythm, boldly turning her about, keeping her squarely in front of him, her back against his chest.
"The bartender was taking too bloody long," he grumbled. "I couldn't leave you out here to the mercy of these blokes."
She laughed freely, her hand gliding up to pat his cheek. "I was perfectly fine."
"So, you say," he chuckled, leaning in to shout in her ear above the din of the music. "They're all good men, but they tend to get a bit carried away at parties like these."
"What do you mean?" she asked, their bodies keeping in time to the music.
"Let's just say they wouldn't mind adding a gorgeous woman like you to their list of conquests," he said smugly, his hands tightening on her hips.
Her breath caught, her addled brain processing his implication.
"They would want me to be their…" she began.
"They like to party," he finished. "All consensual, of course, but suffice it to say their teamwork is not limited to the pitch."
She turned to look back at him, his eyes glowing in the dark. "And how would you know this?"
"I was never a participant, or a witness, if that's what you're asking," he retorted. "But I have had to reprimand the team a time or two about, shall we say, overindulging."
"Goodness, a bunch of heathens, you are," she smirked.
"Now, that's unfair," he smiled, turning her around to face him. Her hands slid up his chest and across his shoulders as he pulled her close. "I'm a gentleman."
She laughed. "Are you? Would those young ladies that you bested at tennis in your youth agree, I wonder?"
He grinned and leaned in closer. "Speaking of my tennis bets, do you remember the one that you offered to me?"
She blinked, thinking for a moment before her eyes widened in recollection. "Yes."
"You said that if I won, I got your panties," he declared, the flashing lights making his face suddenly turn wicked before her eyes.
"I did, yes," she nodded, her hooded gaze remaining on his.
"And what else, exactly?" he pressed.
"I…" she struggled, swallowing quickly. "I said that you could take them off of me."
"You did," he nodded. "Still willing to bet, or were you just teasing, as usual? Confident that you'll never have to follow through?"
She stared at him, her body still moving with his, though she seemed to be barely aware of it.
"Of course, I am," she stated finally, a shiver running down her spine. "I don't back down from my word."
He nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. I should hate for you to be predictably all talk and not willing to actually risk anything for a chance at glory."
She nodded slowly along with him. "Predictable is boring."
He grinned. "It is. Let's go and get you that drink."
She took his hand and followed him off the dance floor and towards the bar. The fingers of her other hand found her diamond necklace, playing with the gems idly as she smiled at him and watched him order her a drink.
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
The Andromeda was designed to be the British flagship, the largest spacecraft in the fleet. It was not only a military destroyer, or a science vessel, or a carrier – it had to be all of those things in one. While everyone onboard was a Royal Navy crew member, they were hardly all combatants. The engineers, scientists, labourers and support staff were normal working people, and they required the amenities that normal working people required back home.
Such as a proper British pub.
The Fox and Comet was far too pristine to be an exact replica of any pub on Earth, but it was familiar enough to do. With the luxury of being on extended assignment on a full-fledged colony, the majority of the crew preferred to spend their casual time in the many bars, restaurants and lounges across New Byzantium. Transports were always available to take them wherever they needed to go, and it was pedestrian for species across the galaxy to be out and about, such that their presence was hardly noticeable.
All of this made for rather empty evenings in the pub.
"Another, please, Wakefield," Matthew called, waving his hand to the bartender.
"Special Reserve 50, coming right up," the bartender called, drawing another pint before coming over and placing it on the bar before him. He swiped Matthew's empty glass away and placed it on the conveyor towards the dishwasher.
"Don't usually see you in here for this long, Captain," Wakefield remarked.
Matthew glanced quickly at his watch, the dull blue light of the display showing he had no messages.
"Nothing better to do," he smiled before raising his glass again. "Anything to watch?"
"I could probably find a replay of a United match for you," Wakefield nodded.
"Excellent," Matthew agreed, taking a long pull of his beer.
Private Residence of Mary Crawley, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
"Mmm," Mary moaned.
The light duvet of her bed felt smooth and soft against her naked skin. She turned her head into the pillow, her closed lids shaking slightly. Her hands seemed to move all about under the covers, over the cool bedsheets, then up along her sides before brushing over her breasts.
"Mmm," she sighed.
The air was charged around her, warm and pleasant. She saw flashes of light and colours, shapes and shadows dancing through her mind, vague and indistinct until they would suddenly morph into a vivid scene and disappear just as quickly, leaving behind just the raw emotions that hit her in waves.
She was dancing again, the heat and press of bodies around her heightening her arousal. Kemal's hands were on her hips, his firm body moulded to her back as they moved. She felt his hands move to her bare arms, sliding up and down before linking with her fingers and raising her arms above her head and holding them there. She continued to dance, at ease in his hold.
Her breathing quickened.
The dance floor became a garden. She was standing amongst a crowd of dignitaries, everyone watching her as she recited some speech, her eyes bright, her smile confident and brilliant. As she waved her hand to make a point, the shine of a diamond ring drew her gaze before she continued on. Applause rang out when she finished, and she nodded demurely, shaking hands with a select few before moving away. Kemal was there to greet her, taking her into his arms and kissing her softly.
She gasped, her eyes remaining closed.
One hand moved from her breast down across her stomach.
The garden was gone and she was in the steam room at the spa. Each time she visited the spa she had been alone, Kemal the men going off to their separate chambers while she took her treatments and relaxed apart from them.
Not this time.
Her pulse jumped as she turned on to her side beneath the duvet, one hand drifting down between her legs.
Kemal stood behind her, the warmth of the steam and fragrant air making her skin supple and smooth. His lips were on her neck and she moved to give him further access, his hands sliding up her stomach to fondle her breasts.
"Mmph," she hissed, a frown twisting over her face, her eyes still closed. The cool pillow against her cheek did little to soothe her heated skin.
Her hand found her core, not a shred of clothing getting in her way. She cried out to the empty bedroom as her obvious arousal spread across her fingers.
"Obey me," Kemal growled in her ear.
"Yes, my love," she answered breathlessly.
Shadows surrounded them, the steam parting to reveal muscled bodies and hard flesh, the faces unintelligible. They closed in on her, Kemal's grip keeping her rooted to the spot.
"You will serve us all," he ordered. "On your knees."
She smiled and nodded.
Her bedroom was filled with soft cries as her hands moved up and down her body, driving her to the surge of pleasure that she craved, her eyes staying closed all the while.
Private Residence of Kemal Pamuk, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
Kemal smiled and saved the scans of Mary's dreams. He monitored her vital readings, ensuring her pulse was slowing back to normal and her breathing was getting under control. Satisfied with what he saw, he ordered that the session be ended for the evening and that she be allowed to rest. They were on the verge of a breakthrough and he did not want to push any further now.
He left the control room and walked back out to the large living space of his suite. His mind wandered back over the events of the night, a warm sense of triumph filling him.
Bringing Mary back to their suites was like his own victory parade. She snuggled up to him in the limo, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers playing with his across his chest. They spoke casually about upcoming meetings and events, appearing as the couple that the colony knew them as, even though they were now in private.
She did not release his hand while he escorted her to her suite. On the threshold, she turned and kissed him lightly on the lips without any prompting. She paused in her doorway, looking expectantly at him, and it was all he could do to not jump to the next phase of her programming and order her to strip for him then and there.
But, no. The risk was far too great. While she was more pliant and susceptible now than at any other time, he suspected that anything they did would be regretted in the morning, that she would be able to draw upon her defences once the drunkenness and mind suggestions wore off. He could not and would not sacrifice his goals for one night of debauchery, no matter how much he would revel in ruining her completely.
Besides, he grinned, staring out at the pulsing lights of his domain that stretched to the dark horizon in the far distance, the timing wasn't right.
She wasn't in her fertile period yet.
Euphrates Lounge, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, August 2199
The kitchens of the restaurant were frenetic and busy from hours before open until well after close. Feeding the power elite of New Byzantium required absolute perfection in everything that was done, from the gathering of only select ingredients to the preparation of the menu and meals to the timely and flawless service of the dishes. The goal of the staff was to be as unobtrusive as possible. The clientele was here to eat and discuss the matters that would shape the future of the colony. The last thing that they wanted or needed was for some waiter to tell them her name and that she would be 'taking care of them today' or constant check-ups to see how the food tasted.
"Service, please! One salmon, one steak, one scallop, one soup, all to table 14!"
They moved with military precision, every station in sync, every component gathered at the pass so that the finished dishes were sent out exactly on time to be piping hot or suitably cool. No less than three chefs supervised proceedings so that the restaurant could be divided in thirds and even the slightest delay could be immediately compensated for.
Ironically, the buzz and activity of the kitchens made them the perfect meeting spot for anyone who wanted absolute privacy in a restaurant where every conversation was monitored, and every guest was watched. It was common for the politicians and businessmen to stop in and give their compliments to the chefs on their way out and the constant shouting between staff and stations made picking up softer talks impossible, even for the most advanced of technologies. On top of that, no one thought to put surveillance in the kitchens. If anyone was slacking, they were reprimanded by the staff on the spot. There was no need to watch anyone electronically.
"The Minister is becoming entirely too bold," she grumbled.
"You say that now?" he laughed, keeping his voice down as they leaned against the far wall and watched a nearby saucier fiddle with his numerous pots.
"His bitch is more than just a plaything to improve his image now," she spat. "He means to use her to cement his legacy."
"Of course, he does," he nodded. "Lady Mary is the shining symbol of all he wishes to show the people. With her at his side, he is not just the politician who negotiated an accord with the British."
"No, he's a conqueror," she shook her head.
"The pinnacle of leadership," he declared. "The man who brought us into a new era, with a beautiful foreign mistress at his side."
"A slave, more like," she frowned.
"That, too," he agreed. "It all makes him look regal in the end."
"Their brood of mixed brats running around, fuck," she growled. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Eliminate them, of course," he shrugged. "They need to be made an example for any other young upstart with dreams of grandeur. He thinks himself so invincible, controlling the army, quietly coercing senior staff to his banner, angling to take over ahead of the next election. It's almost a shame, really. His plans are admirable in their raw ambition and covert conniving."
"You don't think he can be used?" she asked.
"Not alive, he can't," he shook his head. "It's sad. We should have intervened earlier. His talent is unquestionable, but he's too full of himself now. He's become too dangerous."
"I wonder if we might not be making a mistake," she sighed. "I can't stand him but giving this administration another mandate hardly seems fair or preferable."
"This administration we can control very easily, as we have been doing," he reminded her. "Kemal would have been a worthy successor. We'll just have to be more vigilant with the next one we find, that's all, remember to keep him in line before he thinks he gets any ideas of his own."
"How do you want to play it, this time?" she questioned. "I'm loath to use the insurgents again."
"No, not them," he scoffed. "The public already knows them as an enemy. We gain nothing from crediting them with another assassination. We need fresh meat to throw to the population to feast upon."
"The British?" she blinked.
"Kill the accord and kill Kemal's rebellion in one stroke," he nodded. "With luck, we'll have them begging us to renegotiate. If not, we gain leverage to use with the Americans and Canadians."
"It's tidy," she agreed. "We can use their weapons, make it look like there was an element within their ranks who never wanted to be allied with us."
"A bit too clumsy," he pondered. "I think we use Kemal's own pawn against him. There was an ancient saying back on Earth – Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I like that."
"Very well," she replied, looking across the busy kitchen. "Lunch?"
"That salmon looks delicious. Let's go," he smiled.