4 comments/ 22768 views/ 8 favorites A Timeless Love By: LitRiter Prologue ---------------------------------------------- The bright silver station shuttle descended through the billowy white clouds over the city on a direct course for landing bay 145 of Bennar Spaceport. A Cynar 5000i class, it had the smooth lines and surface of a yacht, a chrome finish broken only by a few necessary vents and a multitude of large reflective view ports. It streaked silently over the city and slowed as it reached the spaceport, taxiing into bay 145 guided by invisible fields projected from below. Touchdown was perfect, not even creating a ripple in the passenger’s drinks. The captain’s voice came over the address system, letting all know that it was a beautiful day on Marenn IV, and that shuttling them all down from the spaceport had been the singular greatest event of his lifetime. That was good, since it was also the last event of his lifetime. The automated guidance and control systems of Bennar Spaceport were the finest created, and they worked tirelessly around the clock to make certain no ships arrived off schedule or off course. Unfortunately for the passengers and crew of the newly arrived shuttle, as well as those working or waiting in the surrounding bay and waiting areas, the systems were programmed to ignore small objects, such as local flora and fauna, maintenance bots, and the like, and so they also ignored the indigo missile, only 1.5 meters in length that came streaking in. As the passengers of the shuttle gathered their belongings and began to depart, the missile came down at many times the speed of sound and pierced the chrome plating just above the reactor and detonated. The initial explosion was small, and would by itself only have severely damaged the reactor and engines of the shuttle. The almost instantaneous secondary explosion as the reactor went critical escalated the explosion, vaporizing the rear third of the shuttle and ripping the remaining portion into flaming debris which then became shrapnel, ripping the landing bay and surrounding building to pieces. Superheated plasma and flames poured through the rooms and hallways of the spaceport, igniting most of the inorganic materials and vaporizing organic tissue on contact. Gouts of flame burst into the surrounding landing bays, where they dissipated, unable to effect the vehicles that regularly left and re-entered the atmosphere. Chapter 1 --------------------------------------------- Detective First Class Kir Balen arrived on the scene of the destruction less than 30 minutes after the explosion, a passenger in a mini police cruiser — a vehicle barely larger than the two men inside. He instructed the driver to circle the area slowly so he could survey the damage and the cleanup efforts. The layout of the spaceport was standard, and from the air resembled nothing so much as a giant muffin pan. A giant flat surface, the roof of the enormous four-story building that is the spaceport, with evenly spaced ovals and circles cut in to it, which are the landing bays. And over in the distance, in the spot where there should have been just another perfect circle was a crater. The edges were ragged and went far beyond their symmetrical border to mar the surrounding bays as well. The flames were gone, and with them much of the smoke, but a cloud of dust and smell debris formed a column that rose far into the sky. Police and rescue vehicles darted and swooped around the cloud, trying it seemed, to look very busy and helpful in a totally helpless situation. There was no one to rescue. As the cruiser passed near the crater, Balen saw the remaining wreckage of the shuttle, large smoking pieces of twisted metal, scattered around haphazardly. Small specks of orange moving around them were the Hazard Team members checking for radiation or possible biological threats. He glanced at his datapad for the current update and saw that they had found nothing of the sort. The cruiser descended into bay 271, the site designated for emergency personnel parking. Balen got out and walked over to where they appeared to have set up a command center. A patrolman stepped in front of him and passed an ID wand over his badge, then stepped aside to let him pass. Seeing a captain nearby, he jogged over to her. “Detective Balen, reporting as ordered, Sir,” he said while gazing into the startlingly blue eyes of the captain. She was 5’8” and thin as a wisp. Her long, flowing blond hair swirled softly in the breeze, and despite the stern look on her face her features were soft and all too pleasant. “Very good, Detective,” she said, with an accent that spoke of a home world where everything soft and pleasant. Her voice was soft and lovely, and Balen felt desire rush through him. “I am Captain Safferr. I am leading the investigation into what happened here. I was told by my superiors that you have certain talents that will be of great aid to the investigation, so I have appointed you my second.” “Thank you, Sir,” Balen said with enthusiasm. This was not only a fantastic career opportunity; it would give him many opportunities to work closely with the lovely elfin beauty. While finding himself distracted by the delightful perfume she wore, he kept his thoughts on the business at hand. “I’d like to start by going over the passenger manifest, as well as the backgrounds of everyone on the shuttle and in the surrounding bays.” A slight smile crossed her full, pink lips. “The lists have been assembled and are available for review on your datapad. As you know, there were no witnesses but the complete scanner records for the spaceport are being downloaded to us. We expect Starport records to be sent over within the hour.” Kir fought the impulse to brush an errant hair from her face and instead brought himself to attention. “Thank you, Captain.” Capt. Safferr brushed aside the errant strand of honey-colored hair and smiled as she looked up into his eyes. “I expect a full report on what you’ve learned. Meet me in my office at, say, ten? And Detective? I run a very tight investigation. I want no funny business. Everything is to be proper and by the book, do I make myself clear?” Her smile became full as he snapped a crisp, “Yes, sir,” and she continued. “And Detective, while it is important to maintain the roper attitudes of respect and authority, my home world stands on much less formality. There will be no need to stand at attention whenever you are in my presence,” she paused as her eyes darted to his waistline then returned to his eyes, and her smile became a decided smirk, “although as a woman, I do appreciate when a handsome man comes to such full attention when he meets me.” Now mindful of the aching erection that was apparently obvious, Balen coughed and muttered, “Thank you, Sir.” He turned crisply and headed away, but had no idea where he was going. After making sure there was nothing he could do on-site, Balen returned to the cruiser and ordered his driver to take them back to headquarters. Chapter 2 --------------------------------------------- The police force of Marenn IV was an elite force, turning away more than 70 percent of applicants. Their headquarters stood in the center of Grendle, and at a height of 175 stories, the Ionic column-shaped building was the tallest structure on the planet. The sublevels held the records and computer storage, the first 50 stories were the domain of the patrolmen and their support staff. From 51 to 100 were detention and holding cells, interrogation chambers, and short-term jail facilities. 101 to 150 were home to the upper-ranking officers, the investigations units, laboratories, and administration and staff. The crown of the building however was the top 25 stories, which housed the garage for the multitude of mini cruisers, cruisers, heavy cruisers, assault vehicles, and transports. His driver was directed to 164H, and Balen involuntarily braced for impact as the mini cruiser rapidly approached the faux marble wall. At the last moment, as always, the wall simply disappeared and the car rode in to a smooth stop. Thanking his driver, Balen took the elevator down to 112 and strode through the chaos to his office. Closing the door, Balen set his datapad in the cradle on his desk, sat down, and began sifting through the passenger manifest. Farah Dione, the synth-jazz chanteuse was aboard, along with her entourage and band, as was the second cousin of Mayor Bradshaw. Other than that, there were no obvious red flags. He was still buried in the list of names when his door chimed and Manor, the office secretary poked his head inside. “It is seven o’clock, Sir. Would you like for me to send in a sandwich or coffee?” “Yes, thank you Manor,” Balen said with a sigh, rubbing his burning eyes. He looked at the Tylian’s smooth green skinned head, devoid of hair and featuring the racial characteristic glowing yellow eyes, and smiled. “Coffee and a ham and cheese sounds great.” Remembering his meeting, he added, “Manor, please set an alarm to remind me when it’s nine, okay?” The Tylian returned quickly with his sandwich and coffee and left for the day. Balen set back to work and had finished half of his sandwich and the coffee when the reminder chimed. Grabbing his datapad, Balen ran to the elevator and rode it to 125, where he changed quickly and hurried through a 30-minute cardio routine. At 6’4”, Balen was taller than most of his peers, and his thick, powerful build bespoke the descendant of those altered for a high-gravity colony. His muscles rippled under his tanned skin as he worked. He showered and shaved, then put on a fresh uniform and headed for the elevators. He consulted his datapad and rode to 147. This level bore little resemblance to the accumulation of squad rooms on 112. There, each squad room consisted of a large central area filled with desks and cubicles, surrounded by small private offices. Here, however, was a small outer office with a desk and a receptionist. The walls were wood paneled and the floor sported a thick shag carpet. The receptionist directed him to Capt. Safferr’s office and he arrived at her door at precisely ten o’clock. He straightened his uniform, chimed, and entered. Capt. Safferr’s office was enormous, paneled in a rich mahogany, and carpeted in a verdant green. The desk was also large and mahogany and her chair appeared to match perfectly. Safferr herself was not at all what he had expected. She sat at her desk, with her bare feet up, and she was nibbling on a salad. Her uniform had been replaced by a simple dark blue mini-tank exercise top and matching sweatpants, cut off at mid- thigh. Her hair was pulled up and back into a flowing ponytail. She looked up from her datapad and motioned him to a seat across the desk from her. He sat and watched her reading her datapad silently, noting the way her jaw worked slowly, chewing a bit of her salad. She wore the same intense look as before, but for the life of him he couldn’t consider her anything other than cute. His eyes traced down her long, slender neck to her collarbone, then took in the swell and curves of her breasts, which would have been small on another woman her size, but on her were quite perfect. Beneath the blue of her top, he counted her ribs and appreciated the soft curves of light and shadow on her abdomen. He had just started to explore the curves of her gorgeous legs when she cleared her throat, and he realized she had been watching him memorize her body. “Er-yes, Captain, here’s what I’ve found so far,” he stammered and hit the share button on his datapad, sending the information directly to hers. “You’ll notice that there are pages of facts and figures, but I can sum up my progress with one word — nothing.” “Yes, Detective,” she sighed. “I have had the same result. I had begun to investigate a possible motive among competing shuttle manufacturers and transport lines, but I too have nothing to show so far.” That’s what you think, Balen thought, and then cursed himself silently. “Do we have any idea what caused the explosion, other than a small projectile?” “Yes. Data from the spaceport scanners show that the projectile was a Mark 11 Zenyl “Sting” missile. It approached at high-altitude from over the city. I was hoping we could extrapolate the origin from the course and altitude and I have a team of technicians working on that right now.” “Never mind,” Balen said, shaking his head. “The Sting missiles, especially the Mark 11, are extremely agile, and regularly make random course changes in order to make just such an inquiry useless.” Safferr’s eyes sparkled and her entire face beamed with her smile, making Balen melt, just a little. “Fantastic, Detective! I was told you had talents, and it appears I have discovered one!” She punched a few commands into her datapad and sent the instruction to release the techies from their useless task, then hopped to her feet and pranced over to a small recess in the paneling, where her uniform hung. With a swift motion, her shorts fell to the floor, revealing a softly curved but muscular ass covered only by filmy red nylon bikini panties. Balen adjusted his raging erection in his pants and watched her step into her uniform trousers. He gazed at her, mesmerized, as she slipped her arms into her uniform blouse, fastened it, then put on the uniform jacket. She adjusted her badge above her left breast, and returned to her chair, where she pulled on a pair of white socks. “I hope you’ve slept, Detective,” she said as she pulled on the first of her tall leather boots. “I want you to accompany me to the Security Section. We should be able to get a bit more information about the Sting there.” She stood quickly, and as he walked to her door, she said, “And Detective, Kir, I never mix pleasure with business.” And with that she rose up on her toes and brushed her lips across his, and in that brief second he felt the tip of her tongue run across his upper lip. He stood there trembling a moment, then hurried to catch her as she bounced down the hall. For the next four hours, the two of them poured over sales and shipping records for the Galatrex Arms division of Imperial Foods, Corp. All deliveries were made to valid military addresses on worlds all over the August Empire, and all of the invoices valid. All of the papers were signed, all of the bills paid, and every missile was accounted for. Even Balen was surprised that he was able to concentrate with his guts (and other bits) churning from his proximity to Safferr. They were completely in sync with each other, and Balen found himself thinking that he had never worked so well with anyone, even Roy Tanno, with whom he had been partnered for 8 years. He noticed Safferr rubbing her eyes and said, “Listen Captain, we can go over this all night, and I think we might have, but if we don’t get some sleep we’re going to miss something important.” “You are right, Detective,” Safferr said with a tired smile. “Do you have a car? I don’t like to drive, and I’d appreciate a ride home, if it isn’t an inconvenience.” Balen agreed at once, and together they rode the elevator to the ground floor and took the transport to the parking building. He escorted her to his little blue Rianna and held the door up for her. He drove her through the heart of Grendle as she directed him to her building, located in one of the better areas of town. He pulled to a stop in a small but well appointed parking area and turned off the engine. “Captain, I-” Balen began, but Safferr interrupted. “Kir, my darling detective, I am your captain and superior officer on this most important case. In all things relating to our police relationship please feel free to refer to me as Captain Safferr. For our personal relationship, which I imagine will be long and fruitful for us both, I want you to know me by a private name, a personal name that is not to be shared. Do you understand?” Kir nodded, knowing that there were many traditions on world of the Empire that had become an important part of the lives of those who believed. Smiling weakly, Safferr continued, “Good, Szalya. Please know me as Szalya.” “You are my Szalya, and I promise I will never share this secret.” “No, not a secret,” she said sharply. “A secret is a thing that you cannot tell. This is a trust, a bond that must not be broken. Can you understand this?” “I do understand, my Szalya,” Kir said softly. “Please forgive my unfortunate choice of words.” He watched her get out of the car and walk into the building without looking back. With a heavy sigh Balen drove home to his decidedly less affluent neighborhood. Kir undressed and fell into his bed, which was still unmade from the previous morning. He told his blinds to open and the early morning sunlight streamed in. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, unable to get the images of Capt. Safferr to stop running through his head. Finally, he grabbed the phone from its cradle and called. “Hello?” came the sweet voice on the other end, sounding tired yet anxious. “Hello, Captain,” he said, stumbling for something to say, “This is Detective Balen, and I-” “Szalya! I’m so glad you called!” Safferr said excitedly, “Is it about the case?” “No, Sir, I just, well,” he paused, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” “I love you too, Kir.” “I didn’t mean to disturb you but — what?” He sat upright, eyes open and totally awake. “I said, I love you too. Sleep well,” she purred, and hung up. Kir fell back onto the bed and dropped the phone to the floor. He closed his eyes and smiled, and fell into a deep, restful sleep. Chapter 3 --------------------------------------------- Kir sat at his kitchen counter, drinking coffee and reading the day’s news. There were memorials planned for the victims of the terrorist attack, and several stories filled with speculation on just who was responsible, but nothing they hadn’t already ruled out in their investigation. The door chimed, and Kir wrapped his robe a little more tightly around him and opened the door. Standing outside was Safferr, dressed in a brightly patterned tunic of a light gauzy material, her long, shapely legs bare. She was wearing sandals and held a basket made of reeds with a metallic thermal bottle sticking out of the top. I’ve made us breakfast, despite the lateness of the day,” she said as he stepped aside and she entered. She walked into the living room, looking around at the decidedly masculine and definitely bachelor-decorated area. She set the basket on the low coffee table and reclined on the floor, stretching her legs out on the soft carpet. Safferr looked up at Kir and brushed a wisp of hair from her eyes. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Kir smiled and simply stared at the beauty on his floor, trying to burn the image into his brain for all eternity. “No, you aren’t disturbing me at all.” Safferr poured a dark purple liquid from the thermal bottle into cups and handed one to Kir as he sat across from her on the floor. He sipped at the hot drink, and raised his eyebrows at the strong bitter flavor, with a distinctive aftertaste of some unknown fruit. She handed him some aromatic bread, and from the touch and smell, he had the impression she had made it herself. “I know you served in the Marines before joining the force, and also that you have had a distinguished career, though you haven’t always made the best decisions to benefit your career,” she said softly, and took a bite of bread. “Well,” he began, slightly uncomfortably, “that’s true, but I don’t regret anything I’ve done.” He didn’t try to hide his interest as he let his eyes roam up her body from her toes, lingering on her curves, her hair, and finally reaching her smiling eyes. “Tell me about yourself. I’ve never met anyone like you.” “I am Selovian, and I was born and raised on Fahneer VI. I was a dancer in school, and even spent a year touring with the planetary dance troupe. Of course, our best performances were at home or in space, where we could adjust the gravity to match home.” A Timeless Love “But I was restless, which is rare for my people. A Selovian normally meets their mate before they are 30 and settles down to a career. I never met my felahn, and so when I was 25, I left home and went to the Imperial College on Sol III.” Kir let out a whistle of appreciation. The Imperial College didn’t accept more than 10,000 off-world students for any particular year, and the competition was fierce. “I was intrigued by Criminology, and my studies only kindled a deep appreciation for justice, and criminal investigation. I graduated and applied to the top three police forces in the Empire, throwing my fate to the winds, as it were.” “And you ended up here,” Kir finished. “What about family, lovers?” Safferr laughed softly. “My family has always been very supportive of me, and they applauded my accomplishments and my decision to come here, though they did worry about my ability to meet a suitable mate.” Seeing that Kir was expecting more, she grinned at him and said, “You really don’t know, do you?” Perplexed, Kir only shook his head slowly. “Selovians have a “sense” that tells us when we’ve met our felahn, and that’s what we do. We mate for life with that one person, our Felahn.” “So you mean-” he stumbled for the words. “My love, as far as I, and my whole world and culture, are concerned, you and I have been married since yesterday morning.” “Don’t I have anything to say about this?” Kir asked, panic coursing through him. “Of course you do. You can tell me that you love me and make arrangements to marry me according to whatever cultural or religious beliefs you hold.” Kir simply stared at her, dumbstruck, and said, “I love you.” Safferr took the steaming cups from between them and set them on the table, then did the same with the bread. She crawled over to Kir and kissed him gently on the lips for a long time. She sat on his crossed legs, crossed hers behind his back, and ran her long slender fingers through his short dark hair. Kir’s hands went to the simple tie closure of her tunic and untied it, then pushed the tunic back off her shoulders, exposing her pale round breasts. He bent and took one of her small, rosy nipples into his mouth and suckled unashamedly as she stroked his hair. His hands stroked down her smooth sides and over her hips, and he pulled away from her breast and looked down. She was wearing no undergarments, and he could clearly see her small tuft of golden blond curls. Putting his lips to her breast, he slid a finger through her curls and down along the tight lips of her sex. Safferr sighed loudly, and his finger felt her labia swell and part with an out rush of warmth and wetness along with the most delightful scent. He stifled a laugh as he realized it was a stronger version of the same scent he had noticed the day they met, and had assumed was her perfume. Safferr’s head was reeling. She had never felt these sensations before, and knew for certain her pussy had never ripened and flowered like this before. The sensation of the cool air on her most sensitive of skin was breathtaking. Kir leaned Safferr back until she was resting on the soft carpet and kissed a path from one breast to the other and back, while his fingers began to tickle and explore her delicate wet folds. Each contact made her jump and wriggle in pure ecstasy as he brought pleasure to places that she had never felt anything before. His kisses began to trail down her abdomen until his nose was tickling her pubic curls. Safferr rose up on her elbows in curiosity, but she fell back to the floor in shock as his tongue began to delicately stroke on her virgin clitoris. His tongue traced up and down her tender folds, down farther until his tongue danced around the entrance to her vagina. It grew wetter and the aroma more intense and he playfully poked his tongue inside and lapped at her wetness. Safferr’s fingers tangled in his hair and pulled, and she cried out in pure joy. Kir licked and lapped his way up again and he settled down to suck and nibble her clitoris. Her hands flew to her own head, and she pulled at her hair as she cried out her passion, feeling the unknown sensations of her first orgasm building within her. Tears came to her eyes and she became aware that she was now squeezing her own tender breasts and rolling her delicate nipples between her fingertips. When her orgasm came, it felt to her as if a star in her womb had gone supernova, feeling the light bursting through her tissues, filling her with joy, then followed by the explosion, the crashing force that grabbed her muscles and twisted. Painful, but so interrelated with the pleasure that the two became one. The pain began to subside, and the pleasure washed over her in waves, like when she, as a child, used to lie in the ocean on the shore and let the soft waves wash over her, ebb, then wash over her again. Safferr opened her eyes and saw Kir above her. Their flushed faces only inches apart, they stared into each other’s eyes as he placed the tip of his cock at her wet, virgin, vaginal entrance. Holding it steady in his hand, he pressed forward with his hips, watching her face twist momentarily in pain as the large head spread her open, penetrating nearly an inch. Her fingertips dug into his ribs, and her mouth opened and she panted openly. Safferr’s eyes closed tightly as he forced another inch inside her, and she gasped and whined, “It hurts, my love, it hurts so much!” Kir pulled back with his hips, leaving less than an inch inside her, and heard her moan in appreciation. He was glad he wasn’t a virgin, because the spasms as her sex grabbed at his cock were powerful enough that he would have lost control already. He pushed his cock back in an inch, then slipped out again, fucking her softly with barely more than the head of his cock, and listened as her panting changed to moans of pleasure. Safferr started tossing her head from side to side, crying out in her passion, “Oh yes, that’s so good, it feels so good now!” Kir pushed a fraction of an inch deeper into her, and her moan became a gasp, then moans again as he only went that deep again and again. He distracted himself from the pleasure by concentrating on the exact depth each stroke would go. He would stroke for a minute or a minute and a half, then ease in another fraction of an inch, all the while running his hands over her taught, slick skin. Safferr decided early on to trust in her lover’s experience. Instead of attempting to stroke and fondle him, she contented herself with clawing and scratching at Kir’s powerful chest and calling out with passion, or pain. She felt like he was slowly inserting the thermal bottle inside her, and the feeling of fullness was amazing. Every time she was certain she was completely stretched and filled, Kir would press another bit further. Tears were flowing from her tightly closed eyes when she decided she had taken enough, that she could take no more. She placed both hands against his chest and pushed, crying for him to stop. After a moment she realized he had stopped, and that he was still, his belly resting against hers, his enormous cock fully within her. She looked down between them in wonder at his mass of thick black curls tangled with her soft golden tuft, then looked up into his eyes — her eyes wide with shock. Safferr’s head dropped back to the floor as Kir began to slowly withdraw his cock from within her, and then push it back in firmly. The sensation was at once excruciating, and arousing. Feeling the pleasure build, Safferr realized his cock was rubbing her clitoris as it stroked in and out, and that felt amazingly good. Kir was close to losing control, but fought on, hoping to continue that moment forever. He had been with younger women and older, ladies, working class, and prostitutes, and it had never been so important, so personal. As he held her body, Kir felt a connection with Safferr, as if they were one, and his only desire was in her pleasure and fulfillment. He looked down into her eyes and saw her staring back up into his. Her hair matted with sweat, her skin flushed and sweat covered, Safferr smiled, and her whole being radiated love. Kir’s eyes rolled back into his head and a guttural groan escaped his lips as semen began to spurt from his cock. His hips pumped involuntarily, thrusting and driving as deeply into his lover as possible and making her wince in pain even as she gloried in her lover’s release. His passion spent, Kir fell to the side and lay there panting, unable to catch his breath. Safferr rolled onto her side and experimented with standing, but it was difficult. She glanced at her pussy, the soft golden curls matted and wet with their commingled fluids. On the floor where they had lain, there were large wet stains from their fluids, including her blood. As she forced herself to her feet and stumbled slowly and painfully into the hallway to find the fresher, tears came to her eyes. Safferr closed the door softly behind her and leaned on the counter, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked beaten, bedraggled, and radiant. The ache and occasional sharp pain from inside her were terrible, but while she felt pain and a little embarrassed, she also felt giddy. She had found her felahn and pleased him in the way of lovers. She had taken him and his seed inside her and if she could only be free of the stiffness and ache she would dance with joy. She took a soft washcloth from the wall and wet it with cold water from the sink and proceeded to wipe the sweat and fluids from her skin. She then held it long under the flowing water to make it cold, and then pressed it softly to her torn, tender pussy. She relished the cold refreshing sensation and was glad when she took it away it showed only a trace of bleeding. Chapter 4 --------------------------------------------- The world spinning around him slowly subsided, and Kir sat up on his elbow and looked around the room for Safferr. Just like a woman, he thought to himself, to take off for the fresher the instant she was satisfied. He stood and picked up their robes and walked to the fresher. He knocked softly and Safferr opened the door. She looked amazingly beautiful, and Kir felt the stirrings of passion once again. He put his arms around her and held her softly, then lifted her in his arms, struck again by her lightness. He carried her to his bed and laid her down, then dropped their robes to the floor and got into bed next to her. They stretched together on the cool sheets, Safferr running her fingertip along the terrible ragged scar that ran from below Kir’s ribs down and across his washboard abdomen and down his right thigh to his knee. She kissed the top of the scar and whispered, “Where did you get this?” Kir ran his hand over her back and closed his eyes, remembering. “I was a corporal in the Imperial Marines when we were ordered to strike on a terrorist faction that had taken the Kolingian embassy on Haxil III. I was part of the assault force that was dropped onto the roof with orders to secure the top four floors. We took out the thugs on the roof, and I led my group to the second floor down. Private Thompson opened a door and tossed in a flash-bang grenade, then he and I burst into the room. There were hostages and terrorists all over the floor, stunned, but Thompson popped apart like a plastic doll. I tried to take cover, but a big, hairy Melusian jumped at me and slashed me with his ceremonial dagger. Cut through armor that would stop most artillery like it was cotton cloth.” Kir shuddered, and Safferr held him close. “I fell, totally immobilized, and watched loops of my own guts pouring out onto the floor. I was vaguely aware of the Melusian falling, shot by more of my troops, and I can still feel the hyper-cold sting of the hypo on the top of my head.” “They gave you Kry-tex?” Safferr whispered in horror. “Yeah,” Ku sighed, “It was that or be dead. All things being equal, I think they did the right thing.” Kry-tex was an experimental drug that effectively flash-froze the brain, killing immediately, but sparing the brain the ravages of oxygen deprivation. “The medics threw my guts back in and sewed me up, and put me in the freezer. A few hours later, they repaired most of the internal damage, and when the immediate effects of the Kry-tex had worn off, they resuscitated me.” Safferr looked into his eyes, deep concern apparent. “What of the long-term effects?” “Well, I still have super-vivid memory of that day, as well as the hours after I came to. I haven’t shown any of the psychotic effects, not yet anyway.” He smiled and said, “And no, I haven’t gotten delusions of psychic ability or empathy either.” Safferr’s eyes darkened. “There is no delusion, I assure you. My people have a long history of Para psychological ability, and many of our traditions and beliefs instruct us to follow our instincts in such matters.” She was seething with anger, even as she held him softly. “How can you scoff so? Didn’t you feel the instant attraction between us? Standing in that crowd at the crime scene I knew I loved you, and that I was your felahn!” “I apologize, my love,” Kir began, stroking her long blond hair softly, “I didn’t mean to disparage. In fact, I did feel the attraction and I knew it was something different. You attracted me, but I didn’t feel stupid or distracted. Since we met I’ve often wondered about our ability to feel such passion and longing for each other and still be able to work so well together, without it effecting our performance.” “Another thing, Safferr,” he began, slightly embarrassed. “When we were together a moment ago, I felt a deep connection to you, as if we were one being. I could feel your blood coursing through your veins, the impulses running through your nerves, and even the thoughts in your mind. What was that?” “You silly man,” Safferr laughed softly, “You expect to feel the hormonal attraction that children feel. What we have, and have had from the moment we met, was true love. The love that those who have been together a lifetime feel.” Safferr kissed Kir’s fingertips one by one and continued softly, “What you felt when you were inside me, was the very thing I felt when I first saw you, and will feel for the rest of my life. You felt the Felahn, you felt our love.” And with those words Kir pulled her up into his embrace and they kissed for a very long time before making love again. Chapter 5 --------------------------------------------- They drove in together the next morning, and Safferr escorted him to his office, getting them both long looks of suspicion. Inside, in the privacy of his office they kissed, and Capt. Safferr left for her own floor. As soon as she was gone, Malikk chimed and burst in. “Whatayoudoin’ Balen?” he shouted as the door closed. “You can’t go screwin’ a superior officer like that! Peoples will talk!” The big human was gesturing madly his great belly flopping up and down and side to side as he moved. Balen smiled. Malikk had been a drinking buddy when he first made Detective, and had been a Detective Third Class the entire time he had known him, even as Balen had ascended to Second Class, then First. He was twenty years Balen’s senior, and was a good cop, even if he took the easy way out of most things. “Relax Malikk, I’m not screwing the woman.” Malikk seemed to relax a bit, and then Balen dropped his bomb. “I married her.” “Whatthefuck, Balen, you gone nuts?” Malikk sputtered, then a smile burst from his jowls and he leapt forward grabbing Balen’s hand and pumping it vigorously. “Congrats Buddy, congrats. She’s a looker I’ll say!” Balen was delighted to discover that he was blushing. Malikk burst out of the office, shouting the news to everyone, and soon Balen was shaking hands and getting hugs and congratulatory back slaps from everyone. He felt good, like his first Home Run way back in the Little Leagues. Once back in his office, he phoned Safferr and let her know the cat was out of the bag. “Thank you for being proud of me, Love,” she said softly. I’m sending memos to my superiors as we speak, and I’ve heard only congratulations. It doesn’t look like this will adversely effect our careers.” After a pause she continued, ‘I think this will be the last case we’re allowed to work together, however.” Balen understood and said so. He disconnected the call and set to work digging into the mystery of the missile. Sting missiles don’t just disappear, and they don’t appear out of nowhere. Somewhere there had to be a missing missile, and he was going to find it. Hours passed as Balen scoured the inventories of military depots on a hundred worlds, each one showing an exact inventory and a few of those only hours old. He sat back finally, rubbing his eyes. A glance at his datapad’s clock told him he had been at it for over seven hours nonstop. Balen stood and went out into the maelstrom that was his work environment. A few newcomers added their congratulations as he made his way to the elevator and to the gym. He found himself concentrating far too much on the case doing cardio, so he switched to weights and pushed all thought away. He stared at the bar he was clenching in his fists and watched the sweat roll down his forearms, changing their paths as they matted the dark hair there. Finally he stopped and struggled to the showers where he cleaned up, shaved again and dressed. He felt the exhilaration of the burn as he went back to his office. Manor was long gone, but his night shift counterpart, a Lariai woman called “H” was there and he asked her to bring in coffee. He had finished his cup when his door chimed and Capt. Safferr entered. Kir smiled and began to stand, but Safferr waved him down. She put a hot cup of coffee in front of him and sat down with her own datapad. She threw one leg over the arm of the chair and began to type away at the datapad, reading intently. Kir felt a rush of warmth, and continued his own reading. They worked in silence for two more hours before he noticed Safferr was standing, stretching. “I’m done for tonight,” she said softly. “I can see you aren’t going to be done soon.” “I’m done right now,” he said, putting his datapad in his holster. “May I drive you home? It’s late again.” She smiled at him and finally nodded. They had been driving for a few moments (mostly on autopilot, of course), when Safferr’s long thin fingers came to rest on the bulge running along the inside of Kir’s thigh. They stroked softly along the length, rubbed circles on the end, then back up to his lap. Kir licked his lips and kept his eyes on the sky ahead, afraid that if he looked over he would be tempted to pull over and ravish her. After perhaps five minutes of this delight, her hand returned to his lap and unfastened his fly. Her fingers reached in and through the fly of his boxers to grasp his meat, though it felt both to her and to him more like a bone at the moment. She pulled it up and in a moment it stood proudly out from his fly, flushed deeply at the tip and completely rigid. Her fingers traced the pulsing veins that stood out from the shaft, and Balen released his seat slightly and sat back. Safferr’s head lowered onto his cock, and she took the head into her mouth. She sucked on it softly while her tongue danced across the head and lapped at the lubricant that was beginning to flow. Kir pushed her hair to one side and saw her slide down, taking his entire shaft into her mouth and throat. Her jaw was stretched wide, and he could hear labored panting through her nostrils as she tried to breathe through only her nose. Her tongue circled, tickled, and massaged his shaft, and Balen let his head fall back, his eyes closed. He first felt, and then heard the trilling. It started as a slight vibration that grew in intensity with each moment, as if her throat was a tight, form-fitting vibrator. As the vibration increased in intensity, he began to hear a trilling sound coming from her throat, a strange sound like the song of a nightingale crossed with the purr of a cat. Safferr began to slide her mouth up and down his entire 9-inch length, spreading the sensation of the trilling, making him grab his armrests for support and growl and moan in ecstasy. A Timeless Love Without warning, it felt as if someone had kicked Kir squarely in the balls. He howled in pain and joy and felt his cum pour from his cock with such force it made the tip feel like it was on fire. Wave after wave of joy washed through him as he rolled his head from side to side, Safferr continuing to trill up and down his cock until the soft wet meat finally popped from her lips. Her delicate fingers reinserted his flaccid cock into his shorts, and fastened his fly. He turned to face her, embarrassed that he hadn’t done anything for her pleasure, but as he opened his mouth to apologize she planted a deep kiss on his lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth and flicking at his tongue and teeth. She then sat back, took a deep breath, and said, “I think you’d better drive me home, Szalya.” Kir looked up and saw, to his horror, that they had passed her building many minutes before and were almost completely outside the city. There was a faint glow on the horizon, and Kir knew dawn was close. Chapter 6 --------------------------------------------- Kir woke slowly and glanced at the clock beside the soft, spacious bed. It was well past Noon. He tried to crawl from beneath the sleeping Safferr without waking her, but she sat up and with bleary eyes told him that he wasn’t that stealthy before rolling over and balling herself up in the colorful quilted blankets. He carried his clothes to the fresher and showered and shaved, then dressed in the uniform he had worn the previous day. He peeked in at Safferr sleeping, blew her a silent kiss, and then drove to headquarters. Balen completed his inventory before three, so he began to read about Cynar’s competitors to see if there was a motive there. It was after eleven when he finally decided there was no connection to be found, and he got into his Rianna and drove home. At the critical junction, Kir decided it would be better to go home to his own apartment than to intrude on Safferr’s hospitality. Besides, he reasoned, he really needed to change his uniform. He walked to his bedroom, dropping his clothes as he went. He walked into the bedroom and was halfway to the bed when he heard soft breathing. Slowing and quieting his steps he moved closer to the bed and saw Safferr sleeping peacefully. Kir slipped into bed as quietly as possible, trying so hard not to disturb her, when she rolled over on top of him and nuzzled her face into the hair on his chest, still asleep. A smile and two deep breaths later he was asleep as well. Chapter 7 --------------------------------------------- Kir woke to the smell of strong coffee and cooking. He threw on his robe and walked into the living room. Safferr was in the kitchen, nude, stir-frying a vegetable dish. He preferred meat for breakfast, but it did smell good. He walked up behind her and nuzzled into her neck, taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her hair. Safferr turned in his arms and kissed him passionately before turning back to finish cooking. They ate sitting on the floor, and he filled her in on what he had learned the day before. Her brow furrowed as she listened, she would occasionally interrupt him to ask a question or clarify something he had said. After breakfast, they crowded into the small shower and washed, their bodies rubbing each other in such a way that was obviously very arousing to both, but they both knew that if they did anything about it they wouldn’t be going in to work before midnight. They drove together to headquarters, and this time Balen escorted Capt. Safferr to her office, accepting the polite congratulations from her coworkers. They shared a lingering kiss in private, and then he went down to his own office. Having a brainstorm, Balen set up a search string to alert him if the inventories of Sting missiles changed. Checking his datapad, Balen noticed that the reports on the flight path of the missile were available from the Starport, as well as some of the more confidential files on military weapons specialists currently working with various terrorist groups. He jumped up and ran to the elevator, and rode it to the 18th sub-level, “Classified Data Access and Storage.” He stepped from the elevator and walked through seven separate scanners, then was questioned and searched by two rather efficient Lieutenants. Finally he was shown into a small viewing room. Before leaving, the Lieutenant who had accompanied him cleared his throat. Balen stared at him for almost a full minute before understanding dawned on him and he handed the man his datapad. In return, the Lieutenant handed him a card with a number of passwords on it, turned and left. The viewing room had a large central screen, ten feet on the diagonal, and four large padded chairs. He sat in one and relaxed, making himself comfortable. He had called up the first level of access when the door opened into the dark room. “Detective Balen? I’m sorry sir, but there is another investigator who is looking for the same information you are. Would it be alright if she joined you?” asked the Lieutenant. Intrigued, Balen nodded and he smiled as the Lieutenant stepped back and ushered Capt. Safferr into the small dark room. Safferr sat in the chair closest to his and made herself comfortable. They shared a look, smiling warmly at each other, and then settled back and began to call up data. After six hours of viewing with no obvious connections, Safferr stood and tapped Kir’s shoulder. Puzzled, he moved over a bit, and she sat next to him, her legs over his. They snuggled and continued calling up data, trying desperately to make a connection. No more than ten minutes later Kir felt his erection pressing into Safferr’s thigh, and she felt it too. She moaned and covered his mouth with a long passionate kiss. Fumbling in the room lit only by the enormous viewscreen, they pulled at each other’s uniforms, the room growing warm. They kissed, their hands roaming over each other’s bodies, touching, feeling, and groping like teenage lovers in the back of the family car. Safferr put her mouth around Kir’s cock and she began to trill vigorously as she urgently sucked. Kir took Safferr by the waist and brought her thighs up to his shoulders. She started to pull her mouth up and off of him, but gave that up when his tongue began to lap at her inner folds and clitoris. Her trilling reached a rattling peak as he began driving his tongue deep into her, lapping out her sweet juices. With agility born of years of dance, Safferr brought her hips back and pivoted on his cock, coming down on his thighs, his cock never leaving her lips. She sucked off of it and straddled him swiftly, sliding her sex down on his, sitting rigidly upright as she slowly impaled herself fully. Kir’s hands grabbed her bottom forcefully, the firm flesh and soft skin squeezing in his powerful grip as she rose and let gravity pull her back down onto him. Safferr kissed his face, his lips, his chest and neck as she rode him slowly. Kir pushed her back, her hip bones standing out as she bent nearly double, and his lips and tongue found her breasts, his teeth her soft flesh and hard, puffy nipples. He rolled them over to put her under him while allowing her legs to stretch out, and began to thrust deeply into her, her soft trilling cries growing louder and more frantic as he increased the pace and the force of each thrust. Then they were fucking, a tangle of sweat-covered limbs clawing at one another as he thrust himself into her quickly and fiercely, as if they had become animals in the wild. Kir growled in lust, Safferr whined and yowled like a jungle cat in heat. Safferr’s yowl became a trilling scream as a powerful orgasm took her, grabbing her and making her thrash as if holding a high-power electrical line. The mind-numbing grasping and sucking her sex was performing on his sensitive cock reached a crescendo and Kir roared his release as sperm flooded the canal and womb of his Felahn. Their passion cooling, they continued to kiss and bite each other’s faces and mouths as Kir’s cock became softer. When he pulled it free their mixed fluids rushed out, pooling between Safferr’s thighs and running along the crease of her bottom to her back. Their breathing was ragged, and the smell of sex was powerful in the small room. Flushed with passion, yet still blushing they dressed quickly and settled into the dry chair together to try to get back to work. After ten minutes they laughed as they came to the simultaneous conclusion that it was stupid to try to concentrate on the case now. They halted the display and inspected each other for obvious signs of their activity before leaving the room and going to the Inspection Area, where the Lieutenants waited. The two Lieutenants were stoic as they took back the temporary password cards from the lovers and handed them their datapads. As they turned to leave, the blond Lieutenant called after them. “Congratulations on your nuptials.” They ran to the elevator like children caught shoplifting and inside they held each other and laughed. “It’s late. We should go home,” Safferr whispered into his chest. And they did. Chapter 8 --------------------------------------------- They laid in bed as the early morning light filtered in through the blinds, cuddling together and basking in their newfound love. Kir’s datapad let out a shrill tone and he leapt from the bed to grab it and brought it back with him. His program had worked. “I think we found it,” Kir almost shouted, “and it’s from Grendle!” “Look again, Szalya,” Safferr purred, “because that missile only disappeared an hour ago.” “I don’t care. I think it’s the same missile and they were only able to cover up the theft for so long.” “Alright,” Safferr sighed. She crawled from under the covers and sauntered toward the fresher. Looking back over her shoulder she smiled and said, “Join me?” Two hours later they were dressed and on their way. They stopped briefly to exchange Kir’s Rianna for a police mini-cruiser and drove to Galatrex Arms. Balen stopped in to the guard post and was given a parking pass and two security passes granting access to the office building. They were escorted to a meeting room by a Marine Sergeant named Findlay. He stood guard as they requested to meet the technician who had discovered the discrepancy. Dr. Emel Vorsht was shown into the room and the three introduced themselves and sat. He was a short man, thickly built. His bald head shone under the lighting, and there was evidence of his nervousness there in the form of heavy sweating. “First, I have to tell you that I have no idea where the missile had gone,” he said quickly as if he was the primary suspect. “Relax, Vorsht,” Balen said lightly. “We only want to know when it actually disappeared, and who had access.” “It actually disappeared this morning sometime between six and six fifteen. The people who had access are Maintenance Bot 47-GRE, Inventory Bot 05-VIN, Drs. Helen Song, Victor Yarnra, and Tib Lehan, and myself of course.” “How can you be so certain of the time?” Capt. Safferr asked. “Vinny, sorry 05-VIN keeps a constant watch on the inventory, scanning each missile every fifteen minutes and logging it in his memory,” Vorsht said. “Is it possible that someone tampered with the Bot?” Balen asked, leaning forward on the table. “Could someone fool it?” “Impossible,” Vorsht said, gesturing in the air. “We keep very accurate records, I assure you. You will have access to them to see for yourself.” “Thank you, Dr. Vorsht,” Capt. Safferr said sweetly, rising to shake his hand. Next on their list was Dr. Helen Song, but she was not on the premises, and hadn’t been in over a week, since she was on her honeymoon. “Novel idea,” Safferr said, winking slyly at Kir. Dr. Victor Yarnra came in, fidgety and nervous. He was tall, 6’5”, and slender. His white hair was unkempt and he wore an over-sized lab coat. At nearly 95, the old scientist was in remarkable shape. “Please make this short,” he barked while taking a seat. “I have many things to get done today.” “Of course, Doctor,” Capt. Safferr smiled at the old man. “When did you last have access to the Sting missile?” “The Mark 11 Zenyl is an important research tool. I work with exotic radiations, many of which occur naturally only in the upper Convective zone of main sequence stars. The Mark 11 can be adapted to go in and measure, and possibly even sample these radiations.” “Wouldn’t it require far more shielding for something like that?” Balen asked, eyes narrowing. “Of course,” Yarnra replied, as if speaking to a mentally deficient pile of sewage. “Will that be all? I need to get back to work.” “What exactly are you working on, Doctor?” Capt. Safferr asked coolly. “If you knew that,” Yarnra smiled wickedly, “I’d have to kill you both. Good day.” The pair didn’t stand, and watched Yarnra leave. “What do you think his problem is?” Safferr said as she made notes in her datapad. “My best guess?” Balen asked. “He’s an asshole.” Tib Lehan was next. He walked into the room and sat. An impressive 7’2” he must have weighed nearly 350 pounds. The muscles bunching and rolling beneath his lab coat were obvious, and his long, shaggy violet hair hung around his shoulders. He was strikingly handsome, and he smiled with perfect teeth as he greeted Safferr. “Heelo me preety,” he said, taking her hand. “Could you tell us when you last had access to the Sting missiles,” Balen asked sternly, angered at the way Safferr was smiling and batting her lashes at the man-mountain. I could take him, he thought to himself, and then sat back. Yeah, for about ten seconds, his inner voice finished. “Yeeah, I took apeart one o’ th’ warheeds jus’ las’ week. Tha’ was the las’ tyme. The buggers banned me from the weerhouse righ’ after,” he said, then laughed loudly. “Surry I canna be o’ more heelp.” “Oh, that’s quite alright Dr. Lehan,” Capt. Safferr cooed. Kir was sick with jealousy. “If theer’s nothin’ else then,” said Dr. Lehan as he stood. He took Safferr’s hand in his and placed a kiss on the palm. “Good day.” As the door closed, Kir asked furiously, “What was all that about?” “Pardon me, Szalya, but I never had sexual feelings until you awakened them within me. He is attractive, and I enjoyed the attention,” she said quietly. Her beautiful face clouded over with sadness. “I’m sorry, Szalya,” Kir said, feeling like a jerk. “I’m not sure what came over me. My apologies.” Safferr smiled shyly, and then became Capt. Safferr. “Where does this leave us?” “Exactly nowhere,” Balen answered. They drove back to headquarters in silence, each mulling over the interviews. They went to their respective offices and worked through the day until it was almost six and Balen picked up the phone. “Capt. Safferr?” he asked. “Yes Detective Balen?” she answered guardedly. “If my wife is available for dinner, I’d really like to take her out. Then maybe home to her apartment for some heavy apologizing? I’ll make breakfast,” he added after a moment’s silence. “Race you to the car,” she said before hanging up on him. She won. Chapter 9 --------------------------------------------- After breakfast they drove to work together, talking over the details of the case. “If the missile has only gone missing in the last 24 hours, then how did it destroy the shuttle last week?” Safferr chewed her bottom lip as she pondered her own question. “I don’t know, unless someone has created a way to send a stolen missile into the past…” Balen swung the car around to drive in the opposite direction and accelerated. “What if someone HAS created a way to do just that?” “I can’t believe it is even possible!” Safferr shook her head. “No, there must be another explanation. It isn’t possible. Where are we going?” “Galatrex Arms, the Imperial Weapons Division,” he said, concentrating on weaving through the early morning traffic. “Remember that smug old scientist? What’s his name?” “Yarnra,” she said, “but I don’t see how you can be serious!” “Because, my dear Captain, ‘after you rule out the probable and the improbable it is time to look at the impossible’.” They sped into Galatrex Arms airspace, and up to the armored guard post. Balen flashed his ID and was given a parking pass. They hurried into the enormous laboratory building and straight to Dr. Yarnra’s office where they chimed. The old man opened the door and looked quite startled to see them, something that made both of the experienced police officers feel as if they might just be on the right track. “Well well, what can I do for you two today?” Yarnra said in a superior tone. “Doctor,” Safferr began, “we have a few questions concerning the theft of the Sting missile yesterday.” “You can forget all about that, Captain!” Yarnra was furious, and he slapped his desktop and fell into his chair. “That is a matter for the Imperial Defense Agency’s Investigative Department, not a local police force.” “But Doctor,” Safferr just about purred, “this is a local matter. That missile destroyed a shuttle in Grendle just after it landed a week ago.” Yarnra looked stricken. “How could you know that? Any such missile would be vaporized on impact,” and he paused just a moment too long, ‘and of course, how could a missile that was inventoried and photographed just yesterday have been vaporized a week ago?” “We will find that out, Dr. Yarnra. You may rest assured of that.” Leaving the old man sputtering, the two police officers left his office and strolled to their car. “You know, I didn’t believe it until I talked to him. It was obvious he knew something, and that it is in fact possible for him to do such a thing.” Safferr got into the passenger side and closed the door, while Balen walked over to the guard post to validate his parking pass. Safferr watched him walk to the guard post in the mirror, and felt her love for him swell within her again. The Marine private passed the pass under a scanner and was handing it back when a shockwave threw them both into the guard post, followed by the roar of an explosion. Balen was stunned but unhurt, the Marine bearing the brunt of the damage from the two of them being thrown against the wall. Balen stood and stumbled out of the guard post, his head at once spinning and splitting with pain. All around him were cars that had been thrown out of their spaces, some on their sides and on their roofs. About thirty meters away, where their police cruiser had been, was a smoking crater and the torn and twisted remains of the cruiser and the cars that had been too close to it when it had exploded. He stumbled toward the wreckage, knowing Safferr couldn’t have survived. He fell to his knees and stared into the flames. It was over. He had never been in love before, and held no illusions of ever finding anyone who could make him feel the way Safferr had. He saw the flames licking the wreckage, and the Melusian was leaping at him in the dark, his knife flashing. Kir flinched, and opened his eyes to see police swarming around him, with Safferr in the distance giving orders to an emergency response team member, the sunlight flashing in her hair. So beautiful, he thought as he tumbled forward onto the pavement and lost consciousness. “It’s time to wake up, Detective.” Kir’s eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up, but he didn’t have the strength. A doctor was examining the display screens at the foot of his bed. “Ah, very good, Detective,” the doctor said, looking up from the display at him. “You gave us quite a scare. The Kry-tex you had been injected with in the past began to interfere with you normal brain function directly after the explosion. We had a devil of a time getting everything back to normal enough for you to regain consciousness.” “What’s wrong with me?” The words sounded weak, and were badly muffled. “You sustained a terrible shock from the explosion, and you have eight cracked ribs, ribs that would have snapped like twigs if not for your genetic heritage,” the doctor shook his head, smiling. “You aren’t going to be able to hear very well for a few more hours yet, sorry.”