My first guest author spotlight of 2017 is M.A. Church as she shares a little about In Enemy Hands.
Two very different civilizations—one bathed in bright sunlight,
and the other veiled in shadow.
Bad decisions, declining resources, and a king on the brink of
madness force Prince Varo Kutchif, third son of the royal family and a starship
captain, to attempt the impossible: barter for Black Phospolrock, an energy
source the mysterious Helkan kingdom has in abundance. Varo opens a line of
communication with Adlar, an intriguing Helkan who seems to reciprocate Varo’s
interest. He hopes so, because if negotiations collapse, Varo has orders to
attack.
The Helkans preside over a planet shrouded in perpetual
darkness. Several species have tried to exploit its natural
resources through trade with them, but all have failed. Adlar Mondur is
the older brother to the Helkan ruler. An assassin of the highest order, he’ll
do anything to protect his king and his people—including tracking down the
Yesri prince who crash-lands on their planet, leaving an ugly scar across its
untouched beauty.
Thus begins a journey where two men from disparate civilizations
grow from enemies to lovers.
Chapter One
“Stars-cursed
planet.”
Snarling,
Varo paced in his private bridge office. Jerking his luxurious cowlarium-hide
desk chair around, he flopped down. Long white-blond hair fell over his
shoulder. Irritated, he shoved it out of the way. He should’ve braided it this
morning, but he’d gotten up late.
He rested
his chin on his knuckles and stared out the port window into the unrelieved
darkness that was space, scowling. Planet Helkan was his focus—with its
permanent swirling cloud cover that more times than not denied their in-depth
scans.
Its
classification was that of a Darkrealm planet. Thanks to the cloud cover
playing peekaboo, only filtured light got through. As such, its ecosystem
either didn’t require much sunlight to live, or its fauna created its own photosynthesize
non-visible light. No one knew much about the planet’s race since they didn’t
travel off-planet much. The ones who did were said to be reserved, unfriendly,
and uncommunicative. Cold, even.
Varo
picked up a report from his desk and scanned it once more. The description of
the inhabitants as cold seemed appropriate. His reports said they were a tall,
pale-skinned people with long black hair, pointed ears, slit pupiled eyes, and
excellent night vision.
Many of
their cities were believed to either be located underground or built into cliff
faces. Even though their technology was superior, that didn’t mean they weren’t
barbaric and ruthless. Animals, really.
There
were also rumors others had attacked the planet at one point long ago. It was
believed to be for the Black Phospolrock crystals. That prompted the Helkans to
protect themselves in the form of a planetary grid.
The
Satellite Surveillance Network, or SSN, was a system of closely linked
satellites that circled the planet. They formed a grid around Helkan. Beams of
energy linked the satellites together. They incorporated their own shields so
asteroids wouldn’t destroy them, but neither could a starship’s weapons system.
Others
had tried in the past. When ships encountered the grid, the main computers
shorted out, leaving the crippled vessels to crash-land on the planet. No one
had any idea what became of the survivors.
When
ambassadors from other planets tried to open talks about prisoners, the Helkans
made it painfully clear they didn’t release hostages. Questions arose. Were
they being treated humanely? Being taken care of? Were they given basic
necessities like food, water, and shelter? Were they being tortured? Enslaved?
If so, what did that slavery entail?
More
disturbing was the gossip Helkans had fangs and drank blood. As a race they had
a terrible reputation, but they were reputed to be gorgeous monsters. Common
sense said to avoid them since they were dangerous and existed solely on the
fringe of society, but common sense often failed when greed was factored in.
The
whispered rumors they took prisoners and used them as a food source only
increased other societies’ repulsion and curiosity. Varo shivered. Who knew
what was true? Many reviled—and feared—the Helkans even as they tried to bargain
with them. The fact they didn’t leave their planet often didn’t help the gossip
about them either.
When
certain leaderships, like his father’s, became aggressive in their tactics, the
Helkans closed their planet borders and refused outsiders the right to enter
their space. How his father thought he could broker anything with a species as
uncivilized as this one was beyond him. He’d been set up to fail, but failure
was not an option. It did not pay to have His Royal Majesty discontented. The
blood-soaked floors of his dungeons proved that.
But that
wasn’t what was most disconcerting. His orders—straight from the king
himself—were to attack if no agreement could be reached. His targets were King
Omori Mondur and his brother, Adlar Mondur.
The very
idea turned his stomach. While he was willing to die in the line of duty,
murder was something completely different. If he attacked it would be
considered an act of war. Lives would be lost—possibly his own. And over what?
A stupid rock.
But what
could he do? His father made it perfectly clear he considered him dispensable.
If he didn’t follow orders, His Royal Highness had been clear: his crew would
suffer for his disobedience.
He had a
choice: murdering beings based on nothing more than their unwillingness to share
their riches—and in the process, possibly forfeiting his own life along with
his crew’s—or facing the insanity that masqueraded as his father’s rule.
His Royal
Highness’s plan was to disrupt the planetary government of Helkan with the
murders of the king and his brother… then the Yesri would invade. The few
advisors brave enough to point out the various flaws in the plan had been
relieved of their duties—permanently. His father brooked no disagreement. Varo
was doomed. If the Helkans didn’t kill him, then his father most assuredly
would. After all, his father had an heir and a spare; he didn’t need Varo.
He
checked his comm. After making a pest of himself, he’d managed to attract the
Helkans’ attention. He’d sent numerous hails requesting an audience with the
king. Finally he received a message back informing him he would be granted an
opportunity to speak.
He took a
deep breath to steady his nerves. This was it. One way or the other. Releasing
the breath, he composed his demeanor, sat at his desk, and had the incoming
message transferred to the on-screen viewer. The blurred images jumped and
hissed across the screen and then cleared.
And every
thought he had flew out of his head.
The
breath froze in Varo’s chest as he stared. There on the screen was the most
gorgeous creature Varo had ever laid eyes on. Long, glossy black hair cascaded
over his shoulders and disappeared from sight.
A narrow
face that was hauntingly beautiful peered back at Varo. Full lips that tilted
up in a slight smirk drew Varo’s attention. A tingle raced up Varo’s spine and
nailed him in the back of the head. Varo was suddenly achingly hard and more
than a little horrified by his response.
But the
otherworldliness of the face on screen was nothing compared to the eyes, the
striking yellow eyes that studied and cataloged Varo too. The tremble that
threatened to shake Varo’s frame caught him off guard. The look in that gaze
was a mixture of scorching heat and frosty coolness—a predator who had Varo in
his sights. The danger he felt flamed his body.
“Captain
Varo of Yesri, I am Adlar. How may I be of service?”
The soft
taunting voice and the hint of fang he saw snapped him out of his momentary
distraction. Gathering his tattered dignity around him, he lifted his chin.
“Greetings from His Royal Highness King Drea Kutchif, supreme ruler of the
planet Yesri. I have been tasked with the mission of approaching your king
concerning a possible agreement about obtaining rights to Black Phospolrock.
Would it be possible to me to speak with King Omori?”
Varo held
his breath. Was this Adlar the king’s brother? Was that why he did not offer a
last name? And if Adlar was royalty, why would he not announce himself as such?
How… odd.
“Unfortunately
no. A small emergency cropped up and King Omori was detained. I would ask that
in his stead, you deal with me. Tell me of this proposal you come bearing.”
It was
not what he hoped for, but it was better than nothing. As Varo recited the
terms and stipulations, he wished desperately he could remove his uniform jacket.
He knew perfectly well his office was climate controlled, but sweat was
trickling down the small of his back, distracting him. His dry mouth certainly
did not help his attempts to sound articulate. Stars, he hadn’t sweated like
this since he was a cadet.
As he
rattled off the terms, he fought the urge to squirm. Adlar’s gaze unnerved him…
and excited him. The brief glimpses of fangs were horrifyingly erotic, and a
complete bewilderment as to why that affected him. For once he was thankful the
screen only showed him from the waist up.
Instinct
told him Adlar would not only notice his arousal, but use it to his advantage.
That was unacceptable. His voice roughened as he spoke. The situation
infuriated him. He refused to let a certain part of his anatomy lead him
around, even if his body had suddenly decided Adlar was the
soon-to-be star of his fantasies.
“I will
speak with King Omori and bring your proposal to him. I’m sure he will have
questions. May I contact you?”
Varo
couldn’t believe it. Of all the possible outcomes he envisioned, this was
certainly not one. From all the things they’d heard about the Helkans, this
reasonable response was confounding.
“I would
very much like to speak with you again,” Varo said. “I don’t suppose you’d be
willing to come here and speak face-to-face, would you?”
“I’m
afraid not. But thank you for the invitation.”
Varo
started to offer him assurances of his safety, but paused. If this Adlar was
indeed related to the king, then he couldn’t in good faith do that. Stars knew if
his king found out he had the brother of the Helkan king on his ship and didn’t
take him prisoner… it didn’t bear thinking about.
“I see.
That’s too bad.” He refused to admit even to himself how badly he’d like to
meet Adlar face-to face. “Please use this secured subspace frequency again for
any questions you may have. And I thank you for your willingness to share my
king’s words with yours.”
“It was
my pleasure.” Adlar nodded and then signed off.
As soon
as the screen went black, Varo stripped off his warm jacket and dropped it on
the small couch in his office. After ordering up a glass of cool, fresh water,
he released the tight hold on his body and slumped on the couch next to his
jacket.
Well,
that short conversation had been a fountain of knowledge. The Helkans were not
as obtuse as first thought. At least he hoped. He also learned the mental image
he’d had of them as tall and wraith-thin monsters was also false. Inconceivably
false, as his hard cock could testify.
He
glanced down at his dick, which was just now deflating. Why in the two moons of
Helkan had his libido decided now to make itself known? And
toward this race? He scrubbed his hands over his face. It was a fluke, nothing
more. Lack of sleep and stress had finally gotten the better of him. That was
all.
It had to
be.
Several
unit hours passed as he tried to distract himself. He checked over crew
schedules and read through several status reports on various parts of his ship.
He okayed an accident report, several requests for transfers to different ship
departments needed to be read over and decided upon, and a note from the ship’s
doctor that he was due for medical checkup he could attend to either here or on
planet once they were back in port.
The day
passed slowly, even though he tried to keep his mind occupied with the daily
happenings aboard the ship. By the time end of shift came, he was climbing the
walls. He wanted to hear Adlar’s voice again. Maybe he needed to have his head
examined when it came time for his medical checkup.
Just as
he was getting ready to leave his private office on the bridge, his comm
signaled an incoming message. His heart pounded. This was past becoming
ridiculous. The readout showed it was from Adlar. His heart rate increased as
he transferred the message from his comm to his viewing screen.
Then it
dropped as he struggled to keep the disappointment from his face when the image
on the screen was not who he expected. Instead it was King Omori. That was
good. Very, very good. Maybe if he said it enough, he could convince himself of
that.
He
quickly explained the reason for his mission and outlined the plan his king had
given him.
King
Omori held up his hand and halted the conversation. “There seems to be some
misunderstanding. We do not grant mining rights. Ever. The one time we allowed
another race to come on planet and mine, the results were disastrous.”
“But I
outlined a plan to your spokesman, Adlar. We would only use as many miners as
needed, use equipment that you sanctioned, and are willing to be supervised.
It’s a very generous package.”
“I am not
sure if Adlar understood you were talking about mining rights.
From what he told me, you were talking about the rights to Black Phospolrock. I
assumed you meant you wanted to speak about an exclusive import agreement with
us concerning the crystal.”
“I… I….”
Varo replayed the earlier conversation and was mortified to see he hadn’t
specified mining rights. Was he so bedazzled by Adlar that he
was careless in his negotiations? What had he done? “I apologize for not clarifying
my intent. If it would be at all possible—”
“Captain
Varo, while I believe the sincerity of your proposal, I’m afraid the proposal
isn’t possible. As I stated, we do not allow anybody on planet. At this point
I’m also not convinced selling the Black Phospolrock is worth the headache it
would entail.”
“Your
Majesty, please, if we could just—”
“If we
supplied one race, we would be opening ourselves up to sharing with many races.
Which eventually would lead to having to deal with others
coming on planet.”
Varo
couldn’t believe this was happening. “But—”
“Eventually
that’s going to lead to problems. It always does. One race is going to feel
another race is getting more than their fair share, or is getting a better
deal, or will have some complaint that, no matter how invalid it is, will blow
up into a disagreement.”
“Maybe
not! We could supply guards to help control—”
“That’s
the last thing we want,” King Omori said. “Not to mention every time we send
the shipment out, we would have to lower our planetary defenses, which opens up
avenues for unscrupulous people to attack. I’m sorry, Captain Varo. The answer
is no.”
Oh
goddess. He actually thought he was going to be able to negotiate this trade
agreement, and now it was falling all the pieces. That left him with one
option, an option he truly detested.
“I also
would ask that you leave our airspace immediately.”
M.A. Church is a true Southern belle who spent many years in the elementary education sector. Now she spends her days lost in fantasy worlds, arguing with hardheaded aliens on far-off planets, herding her numerous shifters, or trying to tempt her country boys away from their fishing poles.