Of Honor and Treason
by
C. J. Merle

PROLOGUE

"The Emperor must die," Commander Tamsek Dorlan stated.

No one sitting in the small conference room on-board the Imperial flagship, the Salitor, disagreed. The seven men and two women who were Commander Dorlan's most trusted advisors, simply waited what would come next. Commander Tamsek Dorlan, entitled Consenti, Commissioner of the Provinces and Commander of the Imperial flagship hadn't called them together simply to make a random treasonous statement.

"I am not alone in this opinion," Commander Dorlan continued. "But the perfection of the shields surrounding the Imperial Palace compound and the Palace itself, keeps Hazdel safe."

The perfection of the century-old shields protecting the Imperial Palace complex was a matter of discreet discussion among a number of people, most of whom regretted their sleek perfection.

Tamsek touched a silver-edged button on the panel in front of him and a holograph shimmered into existence displaying a detailed drawing in three dimensions. It took a moment for the seven people to realize the holograph was an architectural diagram of the Imperial Palace--showing something quite unexpected.

"Finally. A way past those shields," Tamsek said quietly. His statement was unnecessary. Everyone in the room understood what they were seeing. "It is time for a change of dynasties."

There was complete silence for a long moment; no one even breathed. Then seemingly all at once, everyone took a slow, deep breath as a soft, silent hope was born. Ruy Comptre, second in command of the Salitor, seated at Commander Dorlan's right, spoke first. The Comptres had been in hereditary fealty to the Dorlans for a dozen generations, until Ruy Comptre's father purchased their freedom. Ruy Comptre's first act as a free man had been to swear an oath of personal fealty to Tamsek Dorlan. Ruy's daughter attended school on the Dorlan Home Estate.

"It is hard to believe," he said softly, speaking for them all.

At Tamsek's left sat his Chief Engineer, Leota Myli, a cold and demanding woman whose skill in engineering was legendary. She was also one of Tamsek's occasional lovers. "These drawings were said to be destroyed," she added.
Of the other five at the table, two were in hereditary fealty to the Dorlans, and the other three had served with Tamsek for many years. He trusted them as much as he ever trusted anyone.

"Whoever said that was wrong," Tamsek said.

"Are you sure?" Leoti asked.

"Sure enough to risk my life and the Dorlan Estates," Tamsek answered flatly.

Life was one thing; the vast Dorlan Estates were another. To be sure enough to risk losing those to the Emperor...

"My son, Eivaunee, graduates from the Academy today," Tamsek continued. "The Emperor can no longer hold him on the Imperial Planet without incurring the wrath of all the Consenti families. Once I have my son back-"

"We attack," Ruy breathed softly.

"When?" Leoti Myli asked the most pertinent question.

"Eivaunee is coming out to meet us. We pick him up at the Caggor space station in two days. After that we Jump straight for the Klimar Prime."

No one spoke. They needed a few moments to adjust to the thought of revolt, even if no one doubted the wisdom of a change in Emperors. The quiet humming of efficient machinery framed their silence, reminding them of the one powerful weapon they controlled--the Imperial Flagship. It wouldn't be enough on its own, but with this information...

"Any questions?" Tamsek Dorlan asked, after giving his officers a couple of moments to understand what was involved, to understand what they were risking their lives on.

"Yes," Ruy Comptre spoke, his expression both worried and hopeful. "How can you be so sure this isn't a trap? After fifty years of being lost, the architectural holograms of the Imperial Palace suddenly appear and they show a hidden subterranean tunnel. It's too pat. I don't like it."

"The archivist who found this file was half dead when he arrived at the Dorlan Home Estate, but he wasn't so far gone he couldn't be questioned under truth drugs. He didn't survive that, but under the drugs he said he had found a deeply buried and encrypted file while going through some old records on the Regi dynasty which preceded the Toneki. He spent two years breaking the encrypting code, but when he was done, he found the original holograms for the Palace."

"But the Emperor's grandfather must have searched for those drawings, why didn't he find them?" Leota asked.
"I don't know," Tamsek replied honestly. "But we have them. And the Emperor doesn't know we have them; he doesn't even know they exist."

Tamsek didn't tell even these people, who were his most trusted advisors, that he'd had these holographic drawings for several years. He had to wait. The Emperor held Eivaunee, his only child, the only heir to the vast Dorlan Estates, as a political hostage. Tamsek Dorlan had to wait until he got his heir, his son, back before doing anything, even telling his
advisors what he planned. "Any more questions?"

No one said anything. There would be time over the next few days to discuss the many details of their attack strategy. The main issue--their consent to treason--was settled without need for further discussion. Their silence was assent: they would live or die together.

"Dismissed," Tamsek said softly, grateful for their support. "Tomorrow we meet to begin planning our attack on the Imperial Palace."

Nothing more was said as the seven people filed out of the small conference room, their silence one of fragile hope rather than doubtful fear.

Tamsek stayed behind, standing alone in the stark white room. He spoke a few words and the hologram flickered into non-existence. He stored the image file in an encrypted form in the middle of a massive file on the ship's inventory. This was a copy. The original file remained at the Dorlan Home Estate, encrypted and buried deep within Eivaunee's education records.

Tamsek's thoughts turned from revolt to his dead wife, Omani, the beautiful daughter of a Provincial Baron. He had married her for love. She was dead now because of the Emperor. Omani had taken her own life, but the Emperor was responsible. The brutal rape ... Fury shook Tamsek, directed at his one-time friend, his Emperor, Hazdel Toneki. Tamsek fought and mastered his anger. He needed to think of the future now, not the past. Eivaunee would be with him soon. At least he would have his son back. Nothing could alter the years they had been held apart; but now they would have a future together.

* * * * * * *
The saboteur planted the last of the explosives in the engine room and settled back on his heels. "Saboteur" was a kinder word than most on the ship would have used. The junior engineer's breathing was uneven and he could feel the hard pounding of his heart. He didn't want to die. But at least it would be quick, and that was better than what would happen if
he failed.

One mistake--one error in judgement was all that he had made! But the Emperor had learned of it. The Emperor didn't like the word blackmail, he preferred the term "business agreement." The young man's face twisted bitterly; yes, an agreement in which his choice was limited to a fast or slow death--with the Emperor supplying the slow one. There was nothing to choose. He hesitated still, his hand lingering on the detonator. He didn't want to do this!

"Hey! You! What are you doing there?"

The junior engineer's eyes went wide with rabbit-like fear. "No!" he shouted and activated the detonator.

Tamsek was in bed when the first shudders rocked the ship. With a terrible instinct, he knew what was happening. He moved with desperate speed to engage the communications console. He pulled power from every section of the ship, including life supports; they wouldn't help a ship being blown apart. He had to tell someone where to find the holograms! There was only one person he trusted enough.

"Seriie," Tamsek began his last communication, thinking faster than he ever had in his life. This had to be sent in clear language. The Emperor would be suspicious of any coded message sent out at this time. And with enough time, any code can be broken. This message had to be sent as though it were a normal communications begun before the sabotage. He had to hope she would understand. "Seriie, my friend, I was thinking about our plans today. The key to our dreams lies in Eivaunee's education. Think--"

* * * * * * *

The destruction of the Salitor was duly reported to the Emperor who smiled a rare smile of true pleasure.

"Now Tamsek there is only your son," Hazdel said softly, speaking to a man who could no longer hear him. "And he will have to choose between marriage to my daughter or treason. One way or the other, I will have the Dorlan Estates."

The Emperor thought of Omani whom he had loved and hated and ultimately destroyed. And he thought of what he had wanted even more than her--of what she had killed out of fear for her only child, her beautiful Eivaunee. The child theEmperor hated and had almost destroyed as well.

* * * * * *

The tall, slender young man paced over the intricately woven carpet in the quiet, luxurious room.

"Hazdel killed him," Eivaunee stated intensely. "'I fear the Salitor has been sabotaged by an agent of the Norda Homelands'," the young man bitterly mimiced the Emperor's low, harsh-toned voice. "As though my father wouldn't have noticed an alien on his ship-one of their Hsassan warriors perhaps?"

"The Emperor had to explain the loss of the Salitor in some way," the silver-haired woman replied quietly, her sharp blue eyes focused on the tensely pacing young man. "He didn't say a Hsassan destroyed the ship-he said 'an agent of the Homelands.' He implied the saboteur was human. We agree on that-the point where we differ is who controlled the saboteur."

The boy continued to pace.

Mistress Seriie Realt watched him. He looked so much like his mother with his golden skin tone, pale blond hair, and amber cat-like eyes. Completely human, but his mother was bred from stock that was several centuries removed from long-dead Earth. His cat-like eyes, in particular, made him look almost alien.

"Of course, Hazdel killed him," Seriie agreed in her quiet, firm voice.

"Hazdel killed my mother as well," the boy added, his breathing short and angry.

"Your mother died by her own hand, Eivaunee," Seriie Realt corrected him, her calm voice a counter to his harsh anger. She started to say more and was cut off abruptly.

"The Emperor killed her as surely as if he held the knife," Eivaunee's eyes burned glittering into the older woman's.

"She died, Eivaunee, so that you would live-and so the Dorlan Estates would not fall to the Emperor," Mistress Realt's voice was cold and harsh.

"I cannot kneel..."

"You must swear fealty to the Emperor! If you do not, he will declare you in revolt!"

"Then let it be so!"

"You speak of rebellion! You! You are little more than a boy! You will do nothing but throw away her sacrifice! And all the years your father worked to hold the Dorlan Estates from the Emperor! He waited until you were grown..."

"And what did that gain him? He is dead!"

"But the Dorlan Estates are not in the Emperor's control! They are yours! You can't succeed in this rebellion! You will just be giving the Dorlan lands to the Emperor! You will be the answer to his dreams!"

Her scathing sarcasm cut through Eivaunee's grief and anger. He stopped pacing. The brutally learned control that rarely deserted him slowly returned. He shivered with the cost of it.

"But to kneel to the man who killed my parents!"

"Better that then to throw away their sacrifice! And think of the Dorlan retainers. Thousands who now look to you to keep them from the Emperor's control. They are your responsibility."

Eivaunee looked fully at Seriie Realt. He knew she spoke the truth; his personal desire for vengeance wasn't as important as his responsibilities. And he knew she was also correct in assuming his rebellion wouldn't succeed. Nothing could get past the perfect shields that surrounded the Imperial Palace. As Eivaunee continued to look at her, he saw for the first time beyond his own pain; he saw the grief-etched lines in her face. He walked slowly to the side of her chair and knelt down beside it.

"You loved my father, didn't you?"

"I love you as well, Eivaunee," Seriie said, caressing the side of his face. "Don't throw away your life! Don't place your Estates in the Emperor's hands! We can't win now! We must wait and bide our time. Your father was so sure he could win against Hazdel, he must have known something." Seriie hesitated, her expression puzzled. "He was sending me a message
when the Salitor exploded. All that got through was something about our plans and your education. I don't know what he was talking about."

"I was going to him. Finally, we could be together," Eivaunee replied softly. "I was barely off-planet when I was told the Salitor had been destroyed. And now Hazdel commands me to swear my fealty to him! To kneel to my parents' murderer!"

"You must do it!" Seriie told him firmly. "We will both watch and wait and seek. We will find a way!" she added with more hope than reason. "Hazdel will be overthrown, but not by an untried boy."

Eivaunee closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the arm of her chair. Her hand brushed against his short, silken hair. He lifted his head up and slowly settled back on his heels. There was anguish in his amber eyes as he looked up at her.

"Obey the Emperor's summons, Evaun," she said softly, deliberately using the abbreviated version of his name that only she and Omani ever used. "Go to Court and swear your fealty; swear service and homage for your Estates. Then begin your apprenticeships in the Imperial Fleet." She again caressed the young man's face. "You have been the Estate Agent for your father for many years, but military command is different. That is what you must learn now.

"You are the head of the Dorlan family; you own the largest estates in the Klimar Empire; you are now the entitled Consenti for the Dorlan family, but you've never had a military command. When the time comes that we can finally overthrow Hazdel, we will need the support of the military. They won't follow an untrained boy. Serve your fleet apprenticeships, Eivaunee, become what you must be if Hazdel is ever to be overthrown. Above all else-keep the Dorlan Estates out of the Emperor's control!"

Eivaunee made no reply at first, thin eyelids came down to shelter the pain in his cat-amber eyes. He continued to kneel for a long moment more, then slowly he opened his eyes again, shifted back and stood up. He stared down into Seriie's blue eyes.

"I will become what I need to become," he said, his eyes clear and hard. "And Hazdel Toneki will never control my lands-my people."

The words were a vow; he would dedicate his life to this.

CHAPTER 1

The old orange sun had set; the evening meal had long since ended. The singing and dancing that had filled the hall were over for this night. Even the most boisterous of the young full-grown Hsassan had sought his pallet singly, or more likely, with a lover. The Citadel of the Hsassan was quiet as the large red moon slowly declined in the brilliant star-studded night.

Two Hsassan, who were more young than old, lay silently, side-by-side, on the pallet lying on top of the carved wood dais. Like the rest of the Citadel, the room was old. Its alabaster stone walls covered with tapestries that told woven tales of glory of the Hsassan, the warriors of the Norda Homelands.

Their complicated, turbulent passions satisfied for the time being, the two Hsassan turned to discussion. The subject was an uneasy one.

"My love," the smaller one spoke, his voice sweet and low. "You cannot do this. No Hsassan, let alone the Qtesark, can live among the humans."

"I do what I must, Sing'm'li," the Qtesark said softly.

Sing'm'li said nothing for a long moment. Then he raised himself up on his elbow and looked down at his beloved, the Hsassan Qtesark, the genetic messiah of the Norda Homelands, whose breeding name was Zsar't'lac. The Qtesark was large, even for a Hsassan. Heavy, well-defined muscles crossed his wide chest and stretched down his long, dangerous arms. His hands were narrow with three fingers and a double-jointed thumb, all tipped with with razor-sharp claws, now sheathed.

Sing'm'li's gaze rested particularly on the Qtesark's face. There was a rugged unevenness to it. The Yseret, the scientist rulers of the Norda Homelands, who had designed the milleniums-long breeding experiment that finally produced the Qtesark, didn't consider
beauty to be important for the genetic warrior messiah of the Norda Homelands. They were right, of course. What the Qtesark was transcended any traditional concept of beauty. Still Zsar't'lac did have one claim to beauty: his large, round black eyes, now dancing with light red, the color of love.

Zsar't'lac met Sing'm'li's stare; he was used to being stared at. All his life had been lived under the watchful eyes of the Hsassan. He lightly caressed Sing'm'li's face. Of all Hsassan, Sing'm'li was considered the most beautiful. His beauty had only one flaw, his eyes
were slanted instead of round.

"I do not understand why you must leave the Homelands," Sing'm'li said.

"Because I judge it best."

"I don't understand..."

"In part I must leave because I will not breed for L'Tang, nor will I lead this invasion of the Human Lands."

"Still, must you leave?"

"Yes."

"When the Yseret Council is overthrown..." Sing'm'li offered.

"How much more difficult will that be if I breed another Qtesark?"

"That is unlikely," Sing'm'li returned. "The breeding lines are so inbred-you alone are Qtesark. Stay, my love and lead your Hsassan. If not to invasion, then in overthrowing the Yseret."

"You do not need my help for that," Zsar't'lac replied, his eyes twinkling a reddish yellow in amusement. "Between my bearer, my tutor, and you, the Yseret have little hope. My bearer began this revolution while I yet lived with her in the female's quarters. The best of the Hsassana, she didn't need my help then-nor does she need it now."

Sing'm'li was willing to concede the truth of Zsar't'lac's statement. "It is amusing, is it not, that the Yseret will be overthrown by a female? They consider females fit only for pleasure and breeding, and yet one of them will destroy all their plans."

Zsar't'lac displayed his sharp, predatory teeth. He did wish he could stay and watch the Yseret die. "It is more fitting than amusing."

"However you wish to describe it," Sing'm'li said, his left hand describing a graceful shrug. "Stay, Zsar't'lac, if only to provide the support of your presence."

"No."

Sing'm'li lay back down again and silence returned to the graceful stone room. It stretched out, uneasy and difficult. Several moments passed before he spoke again. "Are you serving the Homelands in this," he finally asked. "Or is this more of your concern for the fragile and foolish humans?"

"I serve the Homelands," the Qtesark answered flatly. "Only the Homelands. How can you doubt that?"

Sing'm'li couldn't. Still... "But I cannot understand why you must go!"

That was the crux of the matter. No Hsassan would.

"It could be good to have someone in the human lands making sure the humans don't attack the Homelands while it is distracted by this revolution." Zsar't'lac offered another partial explanation.

"It would be sweet if they tried."

Zsar't'lac displayed his long predator's teeth. "It could be. But still, my beloved, I think it best there is no war."

Sing'm'li made a sound of disbelief and derision. "I can't understand that." After a moment, he added, "Have you thought, Zsar't'lac, how you would live with such a species? One that destroys the planet of its birth?"

"They destroyed Earth so the other planets could be free. That's what that pilot said."

"Their Wars of Freedom." Purple tinged Sing'm'li's eyes, the colors of contempt. "A war to divide their people."

"Only into two groups. I wonder if that is so much worse than our Unification Wars?" Zsar't'lac's voice was soft.

"How can you say that? The Unification Wars were why we were bred."

"We were bred, my beloved, to secure the Yseret's power. To guarantee their continued rule over the Norda Homelands."

"But it was for the greater good-to stop wars among our people."

"So the stories are told," Zsar't'lac partially agreed. "Have you ever thought of how, after the Wars, the Yseret chose males and females from each of the Norda worlds to start the new breeding program?" Zsar't'lac shifted the topic a little.

"The breeding program that produced you-the Qtesark," Sing'm'li was more specific. "The breeding lines were becoming too in-bred. They needed new genetic material."

"The Yseret also made each world a genetic stakeholder in their new breeding venture. The Qtesark would belong to all Norda worlds."

"That is as it should be." Sing'm'li was a little confused. "Is that not correct?"

"Yes, but I wonder if that was any consideration of the Yserets, or whether it was done simply to increase the Yseret's control over the Norda worlds?"

Sing'm'li's left hand described a brief shrug. "We wander from the point of our discussion, which is the Human Lands. I do not disagree with the Yseret on this war. I think it would be best to destroy-or at very least-enslave these creatures who are infesting the galaxies."

Zsar't'lac sighed softly. Sing'm'li was in all ways truly Hsassan. "Why? Why enslave or destroy this species? What purpose does it serve? When have the Hsassan-or any Norda-needed slaves?"

"They could work in the manufacturing facilities," Sing'm'li pointed out. "And perhaps some of their scientists..."

"Scientists? They are only machine makers," the Qtesark dismissed them. Sing'm'li gestured a partial agreement. "That may be true, my love. Still, it would be a war. A war of conquest-you would enjoy that."

Zsar't'lac paused before answering. It was true, with qualifications. "With another species, yes, I would like it very much. But not with the humans."

Sing'm'li sighed. "Well, then think of the humans. Being conquered could benefit them. With a slave's collar around their necks, the Yseret would control their breeding. Make something better of the species. Turn them into something more...." Sing'm'li stopped, frustrated for the right word. "Well, almost anything would be better than what they are now."

Light red and yellow danced in Zsar't'lac's black eyes, as his thin lips softened slightly in a smile. "Whereas I may partially agree with your last comment, I doubt the humans would."

Sing'm'li was torn between exasperation and laughter. "I don't care what the humans think. And besides, no beings-whatever they are-agrees to being conquered."

Zsar't'lac laughed outright. "True. And we roam from the point of the discussion."

"That happens frequently in discussions with you," Sing'm'li pointed out with a laugh. He ran one of his long, three-fingered hands down Zsar't'lac's heavily muscled chest. "The humans are unimportant," he said softly. "Think of the pleasure we would have. The humans aren't much of a challenge, but their machines almost make them a worthy foe. Think of it-you and I together in combat. And later the songs that would be sung!"

The bright red colors of pleasure danced in the Qtesark's black eyes. "It would be good," he agreed. Then he made a soft sound, a regretful exhaling. "No. Not with the humans."

Sing'm'li made a sound of irritation. "How I wish Cart'c'ley had never requested that human pilot for his slave. You came to like him."

"Before his death, I am sure Cart'c'ley wished that as well," the Qtesark replied drily. Sing'm'li's thin lips drew back, showing his splendid, sharp, predator's teeth. "That was sweet, my love. I had never seen you kill like that before."

Zsar't'lac smiled as well; the memory was pleasant. "Cart'c'ley should not have killed the human," he pointed out.

Light red, tinged with yellow, the colors of amusement and love danced in Sing'm'li's black eyes. "It was an accident. Cart'c'ley just hit the human. They are too fragile; they do not wear well. And my love, he was just a human. You shouldn't have killed a Hsassan for a human."

"Officially, I didn't. I waited until I could find another reason. It took awhile, but eventually I found one." Zsar't'lac's black eyes burned a darker red in remembered anger. "I asked Cart'c'ley to give me the human slave. He should have."

Sing'm'li did a palm-out shrug.

Zsar't'lac looked into Sing'm'li long eyes. "I must go to the humans, Sing'm'li, because it is best for many reasons. L'Tang is furious over my refusal to breed, and now that I will not lead this invasion, he is even more difficult." Zsar't'lac made a sound close to a sigh. "L'Tang's anger I can manage, but the Hsassan do not-cannot-understand. Not even you." Zsar't'lac's voice was soft and gentle. "You know I can feel their uncertainty-their concern."

Sing'm'li's long fingers touched against Zsar't'lac's thin lips, concern for his beloved stronger than any other consideration. "Do not speak of this," he warned softly.

"The Yseret do not monitor my chamber," Zsar't'lac replied, his words muffled a little by his lover's fingertips against lips. "What reason have we ever given them to doubt us? We are their most useful tool."

"Still you should not take such a chance," Sing'm'li replied. "If L'Tang were ever to learn of your emotional empathic abilities he could certainly force you to breed."

Zsar't'lac drew Sing'm'li's hand down. "There are only three Hsassanae who know I am an empath and none of you will betray me. And it does not matter, Sing'm'li. If I remain much longer in the Homelands, L'Tang will try to force me to breed."

"There is a limit to what L'Tang can do to force your cooperation," Sing'm'li said. "If L'Tang goes too far, he will anger all of the Hsassan."

"Not all," Zsar't'lac corrected him. "There are those who feel I am wrong not to breed as the Yseret decree." Lighter shades of red burned in his eyes. "You know I am right, Sing'm'li. You are letting your love for me affect your evaluation of the situation," Zsar't'lac paused, lightly caressing his lover. "My mind is settled on this, my beloved. There is no point in trying to dissuade me, and our time might be more pleasantly spent." Bright red shades of desire danced in Zsar't'lac's large eyes.

Sing'm'li ignored the caress and the suggestion. He was the highest ranked of the alpha Hsassan, a position achieved by testing and challenging, and his breeding line was well rated for intelligence. He turned that sharp intellect to the problem at hand. "How will you do this? Do you even know if the humans will accept you? Have you spoken of this to your bearer?"

"Yes, I discussed this with Conli before she was sent to the female's quarters at Nrega. She feels the idea has merit and she has contact with the humans. That is another benefit if I leave-the Yseret will allow Conli to return to Norda."

More likely she wants her only descendent, the long-sought Qtesark, out of harm's way during the coming upheaval, Sing'm'li thought. She was as protective of Zsar't'lac as he was of her. "I presume you will go to the Klimar Empire."

"The United Councils is no threat to the Homelands," Zsar't'lac agreed in his own way.

"No human land is," Sing'm'li repeated what he, and most other Hsassan, felt. "But the United Councils even less so. They are so disorganized. A federated government?" his voice was mocking.

"The Klimar Empire is not disorganized," Zsar't'lac said. "And their idea of ruling families under an Emperor is interesting."

"The pilot said there were fourteen ruling families."

"Yes," Zsar't'lac agreed. "Descendents of the fourteen families that first founded the Klimar Empire."

"Called Consenti for the ship that founded the new worlds."

"I like the idea that each family has a senior male and senior female sitting on the ruling council. I like how the sexes are more equal in the Klimar Empire."

"But to have a female as next to rule?"

"The Emperor has no male descendent, only a female. So by their system of government, she inherits."

"It is so bizarre," Sing'm'li added.

"Why is it bizzare? Do you doubt my bearer's ability to rule."

"It took several thousand years of breeding experiments to produce a female such as she. They have no such breeding program among the ruling families in the Klimar Empire. And what is worse, many of the high offices in their empire are inherited by members of these Consenti families."

"It is a different," Zsar't'lac agreed, his uneasiness showing in the dark iridescence coloring the Qtesark's black eyes.

"And you will be surrounded by metal and unliving things." It might not have been kind, but Sing'm'li did not want his beloved to go to the human lands.

More dark iridescence leapt in Zsar't'lac's eyes. "It is the way of humans. They sought control over metal." "The easy way," Sing'm'li agreed. "Their ships, their machines, all around them-dead, lifeless metal."

"I have wondered if surrounding themselves with so much metal poisons them."

"You should not risk poisoning yourself. You should stay here."

Zsar't'lac's thin lips softened in a smile. "No, my beloved. I am strong enough. Their metals will not poison me."

Sing'm'li sighed slightly. He hadn't really thought he could dissuade his beloved. "Well, at least you will be able to control the humans. Their will is so weak."

"Do I ever try to control the Hsassan with my power?"

Sing'm'li wasn't even sure the extent of Zsar't'lac mental power, beyond the ability to feel emotions, and to transmit them. They had experimented just enough to know that transmitting emotions can be used to manipulate a person, but Sing'm'li knew Zsar't'lac
never used that power after their initial experiment.

"Let us talk no more of this, my beloved," Zsar't'lac said softly. "The time will come when I will leave, but for now..."

Sing'm'li sighed. There would be time before Zsar't'lac left for more discussions and planning. And Zsar't'lac would not be gone for long. Once the Yseret were overthrown Zsar't'lac would return and rule the Norda Homelands. If he wanted. Sing'm'li did not think
Zsar't'lac had any interest in ruling, but that was a matter for future discussions.

One thing was imperative before he left-they had to mate. They were both fully of an age, and more, to be properly mated. Truthfully, it was strange that Zsar't'lac hadn't yet spoken of mating. And by custom, he must speak first since he was the higher ranked Hsassan.

Sing'm'li could feel the blood-lust that was at the core of the mating desire burn in him. The blood-lust, had been bred into the Hsassan as a genetic lease. Hsassan had to mate. No Hsassan survived unmated. No doubt Zsar't'lac would soon speak of mating.

It was regrettable that Zsar't'lac was so against this pleasant war. Truly, it would be enjoyable. For now, though...

"Just what pleasure did you have in mind, my beloved?" Sing'm'li asked, teasing.

Zsar't'lac's eyes were brilliant with light red fire and iridescent sparks, his hand reached out to caress the hard, desire-raised ridges on the inside of Sing'm'li's thighs.

"First your sweet body, my love, and then a taste of your blood."

Sing'm'li laughed, low and beautifully, his eyes fully iridescent. For now, a taste of blood would be enough. The time would come when there would be more than just a taste.

CHAPTER 2

The Emperor sat at his large marble desk reading the virtual screen floating in front of him. Across the desk his chief advisor, and brother-in-law, Wrei Ptreet sat silently watching the Emperor, uncomfortably twisting his large, crested family ring.

"A Hsassan wants to defect?" the Emperor's voice was low and harsh-toned, as it usually was. He didn't look away from the image that floated over his desk. "One of the Norda's genetically engineered warriors wants to leave the Homelands?"

"So we are told. More likely they are trying to place an assassin."

The two men were very dissimilar, both in appearance and in personality. Wrei Ptreet was a stocky, compact man. His clothing, though precisely correct for his high rank, was unornamented. The only jewelry he wore was his family-crest ring.

Emperor Hazdel Toneki, by contrast, was tall and lean. He set the fashion for court with his tight fitting pants, wide-sleeved silk shirts, and hip-length overjackets, the sleeves of which were slashed to reveal the silk shirt beneath. Dark blue sapphires decorated the overjacket and jeweled rings winked on the Emperor's long fingers. The Emperor had been an attractive man once; he still was, except for the hard bitterness etched in the corners of his mouth and his eyes.

Both men were Consenti, descendents of the first families to settle in the Klimar Empire. All Emperors in the Klimar Empire came from Consenti families.

Finally the Emperor finished the message. He spoke softly and the screen vanished. A calculating look entered Hazdel's cold, grey eyes and his full, sensual mouth thinned a little in consideration. After a moment, the Emperor flicked back his wide lace cuff so it landed, pristine white, against the dark grey of his sleeves, and steepled his beringed fingers so the tips just touched each other.

"Well, give me your opinion of this," he commanded his advisor.

"I don't like it," Wrei Ptreet stated bluntly. "No Norda-of any variety-has ever defected before."

"Times change," the Emperor countered. "And humans and Norda have only been in contact for ten years."

"That contact has been very one-sided," Wrei replied, his tone cool. "We have had four visits by the scientist rulers of the Norda Homelands who call themselves Yseret. And no human has ever gone to the Homelands and returned. All we know about the Norda Homelands is what the Yseret have chosen to tell us--and that's precious little!"

"All the more reason then to welcome one of theirs. We could learn from this defector."

"Are you willing to risk your life for that information?" Wrei asked bluntly, again twisting the crested ring on his finger. "The Hsassan's loyalty to the Homelands is fanatical."

"According to their creators," Hazdel shrugged. "If there is a possibility of acquiring a Hsassan bodyguard..."

"The Yseret brag about their creation, but I doubt they are all that they claim."

"We saw Hsassan, Wrei," Hazdel pointed out in return. "They accompanied the Yseret on their visits here. They looked quite impressive. And we have the autopsy results of the two Hsassan spies we caught."

"Magnificent hunting animals, Your Majesty, nothing more. Intelligence is a more important characteristic."

"Speed and strength are more useful in a bodyguard. Besides, the Yseret said the Hsassan's intelligence was quite high. I want a Hsassan guard," the Emperor stated firmly. "A trustworthy Hsassan," he added the obvious corollary.

"And how, Your Majesty, do we guarantee that?" Wrei asked sharply. "I doubt if any of our truth drugs would work on them." He shook his head. "There isn't any way to be certain this Hsassan isn't an assassin. We don't even know why he is defecting."

"According to our informant in the Homelands this Hsassan is escaping to avoid persecution. This female implies the defecting Hsassan is low ranking. The Yseret have explained how they test and rank all the Hsassan--maybe this one doesn't like being low on the list."

"Do we want a low-ranking Hsassan?"

"If he is good enough by human standards-yes," the Emperor answered flatly. "Even a low ranking Hsassan could be very good by our standards."

"And if he is an assassin?" Wrei asked bluntly.

"He will be watched. And if we decide he can't be trusted-then we'll kill him. It really isn't that difficult, Wrei." The Emperor considered the situation. "Also it would be interesting to test him and see just how good these Hsassan are. Eugenics is an intriguing concept."

"Alien eugenics," Wrei countered.

"Humanoid alien," the Emperor corrected. After a moment he added: "I like the idea of a body guard with fangs and claws."

"Until they're in your neck."

"It is a calculated risk. And he would be a good visual reminder of why those Consenti bastards need to increase the Imperial subsidies."

"Yes, to give you a reason for building more war ships-to keep humans free." Wrei couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Why not?"

"The concern of the Consenti, Your Majesty, is that you might have other uses for those ships."

Hazdel chuckled. "They may be bastards, but they aren't stupid." He was always honest with Wrei. "That would be the first step-bringing the Consenti bastards into line. After that, it would be the Norda Homelands. Then the United Councils. They are so fragmented and ill-organized, that will almost be too easy."

"There is a fable, Your Majesty, from ancient Earth of one who tried to soar too high,"

Wrei said softly. He knew of Hazdel's dream of interstellar conquest. Hazdel smiled thinly. "But unlike Icaris, I do not fear the sun."

"Neither did he, Your Majesty-I believe that was the point."

Hazdel made a sound of derision. "I know. Death is the penalty for over weaning ambition--for the sin of hubris. Well, I don't believe it. And it could be said that I am simply trying to protect the Klimar Empire, truthfully, all human lands, from alien invaders. You must press harder, Wrei! Get the Consenti families to grant me more money for war ships."

"Your Majesty," Wrei replied wearily. "Of the fifteen non-Imperial Consenti families, only four are firmly committed to you. Granted there are only five families firmly against you, but they include Dorlan, who has the largest Estates in the Empire, the Realts, who are the third wealthiest family, and the Coputs, who are the hereditary Ministers of the Exchequerate. If Jite Dennyson didn't feel his oath of loyalty demanded strict neutrality, we would have our Military Minister in the Dorlan camp as well.

"I have tried, Your Majesty, quite strenuously, to get an increase in your subsidies, but it isn't possible to get the necessary ten families to agree to an increase. Even your allies have concerns about your having additional war ships."

"Push them, Wrei! They're cowards. They won't risk their estates in a rebellion attempt."

"I wouldn't call it cowardice, Your Majesty, but rather a careful wariness of rank and position. None of the great families wish to be reduced, just as they do not want to see any other family rise above them. Their jealousy is our best weapon against Eivaunee Dorlan."

"The Dorlan Estates-the Dorlan wealth-will be mine. And the other Consenti families won't be able to stop that." The Emperor tensely leaned forward. "But that is not the point of our discussion. I want more money now to build war ships. Play up the fear of the Homelands, Wrei. Talk of humans wearing an alien's slave collar."

"But the Norda Homelands haven't done anything in four years," Wrei returned wearily.

Hazdel tilted his head back, his cool grey eyes evaluating. "No, not since the two Hsassan were caught spying in the Provinces. The stupid bastards fought to the death so all we got out of them were some interesting autopsies."

"And additional verification for your claim that a Norda agent destroyed Tamsek Dorlan's ship." Wrei allowed himself a slight, mocking smile.

The Emperor's expression became cold. "I doubt we fooled anyone of importance on that. But I couldn't let Tamsek live," he added softly. "He knew something. I don't know what, but he was too confident; he had to die."

There was a long silence as Hazdel tapped irritably on the marble desktop. "Our relationships with the Riis and the Pyrrl are cordial," Hazdel added testily. "I don't want an interstellar war that we could lose."

"Our relationships with the Riis and the Pyrrl are based almost entirely on scientific communications. Neither species is even vaguely humanoid. The Pyrrl are crystalline-based; we don't even know how they travel through space. The Riis are non-space faring, hive dwelling insects." Wrei sighed. "Perhaps we should try again for some sort of diplomatic relationship with the Norda."

"How?" Hazdel returned testily. "They don't reply to any communication from us any more. We have only one informant within the Homelands-an unknown Norda female. And she can only send us small bits of information without risking her life." Hazdel was clearly irritated, almost
as though he blamed Wrei for the situation.

"Part of that problem is the position of females within the Norda society. No female can know enough to really help us." Wrei said, his uneasiness continuing. "The female who sent us this information may be working with the Yseret to place an assassin."

"I doubt that," Hazdel stated. "The Yserets have too much contempt for females. It is more likely this Hsassan is one of the female's sexual partners." Hazdel's expression changed. It became mocking and something else as well, a shifting to a different thought pattern. "Your own sexual cowardice, Wrei, makes you blind sometimes," the Emperor's voice was soft and denigrating.

Wrei Ptreet's face flushed. "Well, it is good that one of us has some restraint."

Hazdel leaned forward and abruptly swung his right hand in a hard back-handed arc, his rings cut a path across Wrei's cheek.

There was silence as Hazdel leaned back and watched the blood ooze down Wrei's face. "I have some sexual restraint, Wrei, really I do," the Emperor's voice held an amused undertone, as well as a silken threat.

Wrei's eyes met the Emperor's. The temper and the violence were nothing new, neither was the implied threat. A stiff, uneasy tension flowed between the two men as Wrei worked to control his anger. Wrei was Consenti, the entitled head of the Preet family, a proud man, even if many at court called him the Emperor's dog. Being struck, even by an Emperor, was not something he tolerated well.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Wrei finally spoke, his tone snide. "You are well known for your restraint."

Hazdel chuckled, accepting Wrei's sarcasm. "There are several examples of it, Wrei."

Only two actually. Both best not mentioned, but Wrei couldn't help but think of Omani, Tamsek Dorlan's wife, and Eivaunee Dorlan, Tamsek's son. The Emperor's love for Omani had restrained his passion for several years while he openly courted her, accepting her continual rejections as he would from no other. It was said he had even offered her the Empress' throne-the one occupied by Wrei's sister. Wrei believed Hazdel would have offered Omani anything, but she refused to become his lover. When Hazdel finally realized that Omani would never love him, his restraint ended. It was said the three-year-old boy, Eivaunee, had been in the room when the Imperial Guardsman held Omani down.

The Emperor never touched Eivaunee himself, although the boy had all of his mother's beauty and charm. Many thought that surprising, as Hazdel, in general, preferred men. Wrei wished Hazdel had more female lovers; the Emperor had only one child, although Wrei's sister, the
Empress, had two.

"It could also be a trap," Wrei said, forcing his mind back to the point of their meeting. "We are supposed to send in a ship to help get this Hsassan out. We could lose a ship that way. You wouldn't want that."

The Emperor considered Wrei's comment. After a moment, his smile changed to become particularly unpleasant. "Yes," he said, his voice soft."Even more so, we will be interested in this."

Wrei had a feeling he knew what the Emperor was thinking of-and he didn't like it.

"We will send in a ship when they ask," the Emperor continued softly. "The Comveckt. Those Consenti bastards forced me to give Eivaunee Dorlan command of my newly built flagship. But I balanced the odds when I made him Commissioner of the Provinces and exiled him-and my
flagship-to the Provinces. Now the Comveckt is the ship closest to the Norda border. What is more natural than sending it to retrieve the defecting Hsassan?

"And if the Comveckt is destroyed by the Norda...well, then those Consenti bastards will just have to pay for a new flagship-one that won't be able to be commanded by the young Dorlan."

Wrei Ptreet sighed. He hadn't been one of "those bastards" who had forced the Emperor to give command of the Imperial flagship to Eivaunee Dorlan, but as the head of the second wealthiest Consenti family, he certainly had paid a hefty amount for his share of the cost for the flagship. Only Eivaunee, as head of the Dorlans, had paid more. But then, the Dorlan Estates could afford it. Wrei sighed again. Truthfully, the Ptreet Estates could afford it as well. There was something else, though, to be considered.

"If Eivaunee is killed in combat, his heirs get to divide his estates, Your Majesty," Wrei pointed out. "That wouldn't be wise. Not considering that Seriie Realt gets two-thirds of Dorlan's property and wealth, which would make the Realts the wealthiest family in the Empire. Jite Dennyson getting one third isn't as bad, but it would make it much more difficult for you to ever gain full control of all of the Dorlan wealth."

"Wrei, your mind isn't working very well today," the Emperor stated with annoyance. "Think. If the Comveckt is destroyed in Norda territory, then a case could be made that Eivaunee was trying to defect. That's treason, and for that I get the Dorlan Estates." The Emperor's eyes glittered coldly.

"It would be very difficult, Your Majesty," Wrei replied dryily, "to get any Consenti court to believe that Eivaunee Dorlan was defecting to the Norda Homelands where he would be made a slave. If Eivaunee ever does defect, which given his dedication to his responsibilities, isn't at all likely, it would be to the United Councils-a human Empire with a great deal of personal freedom."

"Too much freedom. The United Councils are all fools," Hazdel declared flatly, but his mind wasn't concerned with the United Councils; his eyes were getting a dangerous, unfocused aspect to them.

Wrei sat very still. He knew that look in Hazdel's eyes. It was there sometimes when Eivaunee was spoken of; it was always there when anyone was foolish enough to speak of Omani.

Hazdel's eyes shifted to focus on Wrei. "You are a fool. You are supposed to be my advisor and you are nothing more than an idiot!"

Wrei shifted uneasily in his seat. "As you say, Your Majesty," he replied reassuringly. "Stupid, inept, and useless!" the Emperor shouted, leaning forward, the tension hard in his lean body. Suddenly he shivered and his right hand reached up to play with his long, curly, dark brown hair, his expression becoming distant and uncertain. Wrei silently waited for the Emperor's command. He hated it when Hazdel was like this-just
a little too close to insanity.

"Send for Dorlan-Eivaunee Dorlan," Hazdel finally commanded, his voice soft. "I will tell him of this mission myself."

Wrei wanted to object; it had been little more than five years since the Emperor had killed Eivaunee's father. On subject of the Dorlans, however, the Emperor listened to no one. Hazdel hated Eivaunee; everyone knew that. While young, the boy had suffered remarkably
little physical abuse under Hazdel's care. It was only when Eivaunee had become difficult, and then openly rebellious, that the Emperor's vicious nature had come out. What he had ordered then... Wrei squirmed uncomfortably. Still, if there was a chance Eivaunee would die sometime soon, the Emperor would want to see him again. It was not a simple relationship.

"You are silent," the Emperor's voice accused Wrei. "You do not agree with my plan?"

"It wouldn't matter what I said on this subject," Wrei answered truthfully, his tone soothing. "I am your servant, Your Majesty."

The dangerous light began to fade in the Emperor's eyes. "You haven't much choice." He stood and walked around the desk to Wrei, who stood also.

"You will command Eivaunee Dorlan to return to the Imperial Planet to discuss this mission," the Emperor said. "Don't tell him what the mission is, but reassure him. Tell him he can bring the Comveckt. Send the message in my name."

Wrei knelt. "To hear, my Emperor, is to obey."

Hazdel let his advisor kneel in silence for a long moment. Wrei knew it was his punishment for not being as clever today as the Emperor thought he should be, but Wrei couldn't agree with bringing a Norda Hsassan into the Klimar Empire. He had a bad feeling about it. But once Eivaunee was involved, there wasn't anything anyone could say that would change the Emperor's mind. Hazdel normally had excellent instincts for survival, but not when any Dorlan was involved. Hazdel could never think clearly about any of them. Thank god there was only one left.

"Oh, stand up, Wrei," the Emperor finally said.

Wrei stood carefully. He met the Emperor's eyes and the two men smiled.

The Emperor stepped closer to Wrei and his strong hands slid along the sides of his advisor's face, trailing a thin line of blood back into Wrei's light brown hair.

"I married your sister," the Emperor said softly, his eyes holding Wrei's. "And when she betrayed me, I let her-and her bastard-live. I let them live because you begged me. You begged me on your knees for their lives and I gave them to you!" Hazdel's voice was softly intense. "I would not have done that for any one else! You know that. Not even Aman."

"Your Majesty is very good to me," Wrei replied. It wasn't a lie. It was in this way that Hazdel most fascinated him, when he held Wrei's face in his strong, demanding hands and their eyes locked. It was a union of souls, one dark and one fascinated by the darkness.

After a moment, the Emperor released Wrei, pushing him backward slightly. "Remember all that you owe me!"

"Always, Your Majesty," Wrei said, recovering his balance easily. "Will that be all, my liege?"

"Yes, Wrei. Be sure the message goes out today."

Wrei walked across the large room. At the door, he turned back to see Hazdel sitting at the large marble desk, his right hand playing with his long hair. Just barely Wrei could hear Hazdel talking softly to himself.

"I won't be killing him, Omani. You know that. I wouldn't kill your child. I am just sending him on a mission." There was a silence, then: "I never meant to hurt him that way. He was just being too difficult. You do understand?"

Wrei closed the door gently, cursing both Omani and Tamsek. Later, he added Eivaunee.