Erotica Harem

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Title: "Invalid Item"  (Urden the God of Desire)

Chapter: (Chapter: 5)

Author: Lady Rook

Plot: Nothing like a little assassination attempt to stir up arousals. This is quite a hoot, but very intriguing, Traci.

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Please remember that these are only my opinions.
Please use whatever you feel is right for you.


Chapter Five: Com

Melia watched the silhouetted couple slip into their cottage. It was dark out; the double suns had set hours ago and her vantage wasn’t the best. She had no qualms about spying. If the couple wanted to fuck outside in the open then they should expect watchers. She sat in a woven lounger on the porch and stared at the stars. All around, insects sang night songs, clicking and creaking. In the distance, she heard the whisper of tree leaves blowing in the breeze. Her heart thrummed in her chest. She closed her eyes, thinking she was finally home.

The night wore on, and the sounds of life toned down. Melia withdrew her data sharer from her robes and began reviewing Shiemir Alonwei’s file. He was in his forties, had been married once—wife deceased. One daughter—deceased—murdered by the Unangi Rebellion in Irnia weeks before Enrue’s hostile coup. Newscasts alleged that his daughter’s death was the reason for Enrue’s occupation of Irnia. It was plausible, Melia decided, but she didn’t think it was his only reasoning. Hemec fuel in the Unangi mountains might very well be closer to the truth as a motive.

She clicked through older pictures of the man, visions of a handsome, but stoic figure standing in lines of politicians, or formal images of him signing treaties. There were only a few with his wife by his side, a frail-looking woman who seemed too young for him. Curious, Melia clicked on the wife’s file and read over her cause of death.

Released from Taraf Global Med on 9, Hossia 2093, Shiemir Alonwei’s wife, Ruria Alonwei, died of complications from a rare virus she contracted while providing food and supplies to the Unangi people. She is survived by her husband and their daughter—”

Footsteps crunched in the gravel. Melia glanced up at the man walking in front of her cottage. He stepped awkwardly, a cane in his right hand. She’d noticed him on the ship when she hurried to catch up to the line of Habiri followers. A hood shadowed his face, (?) His face was shadowed by his hood though he nodded and waved politely in her direction before carrying on. By now, (cmma) she was certain the authorities had discovered the dead woman in the cargo area of the Irnian shuttle whose place she’d taken. She wondered how long it would be before the Habiri’s realized she was not one of them. Hopefully, she’d be gone by then.

She snapped her data-sharer closed and stood, stretching her arms high. Her back cracked. “Mm. Need to lie down for awhile,” she muttered. Melia entered her cottage and flicked on the solar light. Its luminance was nowhere near as bright as standard lighting, but she didn’t mind. She glanced over the single room and smiled to herself. “This is my kind of place, small, simple and private.”

She flopped on the bed, reopened her data-sharer and keyed in the code to initiate a non-traceable com-link. The image of Enrue’s meeting room in the Irnian palace flashed on screen, (comma) but no one was there to acknowledge her call request. “Ah. Interesting.”

She rolled on her back and sent a call request to his flagship. “Are you heading home?” she asked the data-sharer. “Hiding from the Empire yet?” The screen flashed and a mousey-looking, gray-haired lady acknowledged her.

“Shiemir Alonwei’s secretary. Can I help you?” Her eyes narrowed and Melia sighed.

“This is Cossia Dargon from the Empire. I need to speak to the Shiemir.”

“One moment.” The secretary clicked off the sound and stepped away.

Melia twisted a lock of her hair round and round her finger, (?) impatient. Soon the secretary returned, a curious smirk plastered across her wrinkled lips. She reached forward and clicked on the sound once more. “The Shiemir said you missed his formal greeting party at the Alga Dockport.”

Melia quirked a brow and snickered. “Did he? Tell him I had other matters to attend to more worthy of my station than speaking with lowly Tarafian officers.”

The secretary snorted. “Of course.” She averted her gaze and appeared to be filing data-cards, the familiar gentle tick-click of plastic hitting plastic familiar.

“Well, is he going to answer my com, or do I have to stare at you?”

“The Shiemir will be with you shortly,” she sputtered without bothering to look up.

Tapping her fingers against the edge of her data-sharer, Melia realized what the secretary was doing. “You can’t trace the com. It’s blocked. So stop trying to waste my time. (?) and stop wasting my time.”

The secretary frowned and stepped out of the camera’s view. Moments later, the Shiemir’s face filled the screen. His hair appeared damp, and dark circles hung beneath his magnificent hazel eyes. His shirt wasn’t buttoned, the collar half open and revealing a nest of dark hairs across his skin.

Heat ran through Melia’s body. Disheveled as Enrue was, he no longer seemed as unapproachable. She found her gaze catching on his chest. “Did I wake you?” she asked.

He raked a hand through his hair and scowled. “It’s the middle of the night on this side of the planet. You know that well, (comma) I assume, being a ward of the Empire. Surely, (comma) they train you about time zones and etiquette when dealing with officials.”

“Yes, Shiemir, they do. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the etiquette required when the Empire sends an emissary to meet with you. I don’t recall sending police being considered polite or a sign of fellowship.”

“Fellowship?” His brows creased. “Is that what the Empire desires?” His mouth twisted in an angry frown. “Rest assured, little Cossia, that I intend no fellowship with the Empire.”

“Our meeting—”

“As I said before, tell the Empire to send someone of higher rank. I’ve no desire to meet with you.” He leaned forward and Melia thought he might disconnect. Instead, his gaze fluttered over the screen, possibly trying to glean a clue as to her whereabouts.

“I will meet with you whether you desire it or not. You can count on that, Shiemir.” She forced a smile at him and reached to disconnect. Just before she did, he spoke.

“Are you threatening me?”

“I am merely doing my job. If you do not comply with the required meeting and agree to the proposition, I will be forced to report you to the authorities.”

“I wish you would, little Cossia. That’s my point. I see no reason to meet with you or to agree to the meaningless promises of loyalty and peace to the Empire, (comma) which I’m certain is all you have to offer me. In case you haven’t noticed, the Empire is corrupt. It’s run by corporations rather than people. They care nothing for rights, or freedom, or quality of life, only the furthering of the Empire by way of settlement, acquiring resources—legally or not. They don’t care who they destroy in the process.”

His chest heaved, the dark hairs curled and enticing. She wished he was not so far away. He certainly spoke with conviction, but she’d seen many a politician and listened to the crap they liked to camouflage and dish up to the masses. “And you do care?”

He raised his forefinger, wagging it at her. “I’m not the only one.”

Melia gasped. She held the sharer closer to her face for emphasis. “Then you invite a quick death. You know that, don’t you, Enrue?”

His hand fell away and his look of confusion flickered before being replaced by determination, the statuesque glare he wore in all the old photos. “We will see.” He punched at the screen, disconnecting their com.

Melia snapped her sharer shut and tossed it to the other side of the bed. “Oh yes, we will see soon enough.” She curled up and pulled the blankets over her body, sighing at their clean scent. It would be a shame to leave Alga. Probably more difficult after the twin suns rose and she saw more of its natural beauty, but Melia she knew what had to be done. “I wish you weren’t so stubborn, Shiemir.” She clutched a pillow to her chest and imagined killing him. There were many ways to do it, but she wanted to be close to him when he sighed out his last breath.

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