Space Opera

Space Opera Stephanie Burke All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2007 Stephanie Burke

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ISBN: 978-1-59596-573-8

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Space Opera Stephanie Burke They were the new world’s only hope. And now their only hope is running from the very people they were created to protect. Javen and Gara were bred to be the perfect soldiers, solid and sure, protecting New Earth from the scourge from above. As lovers, they were created to resonate in perfect harmony with each other, their lives the stuff of legends. But they proved to be evolution’s darlings, developing characteristics and alterations to their bodies the scientists had never dreamed of, their advancement eclipsing that of their creators. Now they are running against time from the scientist who will serve them a fate worse than death -- being banished dirt side. For what the test results revealed to the scientist had to be surprising -- but for the engineered soldiers of New Earth, the results are nothing short of explosive.

Chapter 1 “Bonded, let down my braid?” The silver-haired man asked the question politely as he gracefully dropped to his knees beside his beloved. Javen looked up at his tora through silver lashes, his purple eyes gleaming in anticipation as he licked full, pouty lips. His lithe body was covered in an odd type of silk wrap, the weave plainly visible, but the material soft as air. Several colorful strands of blue and purple, strands of hair from fallen comrades, made up a pattern in the cloth. His long, pale fingers rested on his slim thighs, his poise perfect as he awaited the response. “Shall I unbind you, my mate?” The question was asked in a low, gravelly voice, the desire and intent clear. Gara the Red, High Lord Chancellor of this particular space station far above New Earth Sphere, observed his mate, his cock swelling, his blood running hot. “Shall I release you to take what pleasures I can off that pale body of yours?” Javen seemed to shiver, though his body remained perfectly still. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his bonded, trilling a soft, vibrating song of desire as he felt his own erection grow. “Unbind me, bonded, if you dare… if you have a need of the pleasures this pale flesh can bring you.” Javen tilted his head to the side, shifted his shoulders, and allowed his robe to slide from one shoulder, exposing a chest decorated with what appeared to be elaborate, pale purple tattoos. Javen’s scales were beautiful, strong, soft and iridescent against his pale skin. They outlined his hairline at his forehead, trailed down along his neck to the backs of each arm. They overran the backs of his hands, giving him the look of an exotic jeweled

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statue. They continued around his chest, across his lower abdomen, and down his outer thighs. Naked, he was a thing of grace and style, of beauty that no human being could dare possess. But… he was not human. He wiggled his talon-tipped toes in excitement, his eyes burning with desire. “Oh, I have a need,” Gara chuckled, reaching down and cupping his cock, running the flat of his hand along its hardness. Javen could almost feel the heat wafting off his beloved’s body, and thrummed louder. Gara threw back his head and moaned, his own touch stoking his desires higher as he observed the signs of need in his usually reserved mate. Javen was one of the most polite, perfectly poised ryuujin who had ever been created. To see him react so wildly to his own heat cycle… Magnificent. Gara ripped his tunic from his body, ruffling his wild mane of red hair and exposing his broad, scarred chest in the process, tossing the shreds of material aside. “Come,” he purred, reaching out with both hands, tangling his fingers in his mate’s hair. “Come ease my need.” He gripped the bands of ribbons that liberally twined through his mate’s braid, a braid he himself had placed in Javen’s hair earlier that morning. Javen tossed his head back, his trill growing deeper in his throat as he exposed his neck, his most vulnerable point, to his beloved. Gara wasted no time in bending over and running his clawed fingers over Javen’s neck, caressing the soft, firm skin and the raised scales that he so loved to touch, to lick, to nibble and suck. Javen nestled into his mate’s palm, his trill softening as Gara’s hands -- his strong, scarred hands -- pushed the robe from his body, allowing it to fall around his waist. “Do you have any idea how hard you make me?” Gara growled. He moved closer, closing his eyes and pulling in the spicy scent of his mate’s neck, the heat of his desire so at odds with his cool skin.

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“I can --” Javen reached up, pressing his hands to the heat between his bonded’s thighs, feeling the rigid column of flesh that throbbed at his caress. “-- feel.” His other hand joined the first, tugging at the tie at the waist, wanting the material gone that separated him from what he wanted. He lifted his head again, leaning forward to nuzzle into his bonded’s groin, bathing the head of his mate’s cock with his cool breath. Throwing back his head, Gara purred and gripped his beloved’s head, pushing him deeper against his crotch. “That is what you want?” Gara demanded. “Yes,” Javen snarled, his eyes near glowing as he rose up to his full height, towering over his lover by more than a few inches. “Then come and take it.” Javen hissed, his trill becoming a growl as Gara stepped backwards, leading his mate toward the bed. Javen twisted his hips, letting the robe pool around his feet as he stepped forward, stalking his lover. “Mine.” Javen moved closer, becoming more aggressive as his lover led him across the chamber. “Yours,” Gara agreed, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Come and get me, Moon Dragon.” In a flash of movement, Javen was upon his shorter bonded, knocking him back on the huge bed, tearing at the material that kept him from the cock he so coveted. “Mine,” Javen growled again, licking his lips at the sight of his mate’s stiff, thick shaft and rolling balls. “Yours, Javen,” Gara agreed as his mate hungrily lowered his face, nuzzling at his pubic hair, breathing in his earthy, musky scent. “You smell so good.” Javen batted his eyes, stroking the swollen shaft with his eyelashes even as he nuzzled further back to the sensitive area behind Gara’s balls. “I taste even better,” Gara purred, spreading his legs wider, giving Javen room to operate.

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Murmuring in agreement, Javen ran his tongue over the wrinkled ball sac, teasing the sparse red hairs that grew there before nosing his way up again to the heat of his mate’s cock. At the base he rose enough to tickle the shaft, drawing the breath from his lover as Gara arched his hips. Clear pearls of precum freely flowed, telling of his growing desire. Gara lowered his head and urged his mate closer. “As nice as this is,” he growled, “I really want to see you put that pretty mouth to good use.” “Mmm,” Javen purred, his forked tongue lapping, leaving a glistening wet trail behind, the split tip nearly wrapping around the shaft. “Javen,” Gara moaned, his eyes closing, his chest heaving, his balls tingling as more clear precum dripped from his sensitive cock’s head. “Suck me now!” Cupping Gara’s balls in one hand, Javen pulled them down from Gara’s cock, drawing a moan of pain and pleasure from his bonded, before allowing his tongue to lave the tip. “Javen, Javen, sweet fire, Javen!” Gara panted, his passion rising as his tail lashed out, wrapping around his mate’s arm. “Come on!” “As you command.” Javen chuckled, lowering his head and enveloping Gara’s cock in his wet heat. “Kami-sama, Moon Dragon!” Gara roared, his back arching, his hips slamming upwards as his dick seemed to be imprisoned by liquid heat. Javen’s split tongue circled the head, smearing around the precum that freely flowed, sucking in the flavor of his mate, rolling the bitter sweetness around his mouth. “Mmm,” he purred, savoring the nectar of his lover. His free hand gripped the shaft, holding it upright as his other hand rolled the tight, full balls, tugging to send an erotic twinge of pained pleasure through Gara’s body. “Keep doing that and I will explode,” Gara hissed, his head twisting from side to side on the bed furs, sweat beading on his body.

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Javen giggled, the vibrations sending fire and cool sparks through Gara’s groin as the dragon inhaled twice and then let his throat open. “Oh, Sweet Creator!” Gara cried out, his whole body tensing as his lover began to slowly swallow him whole. “So good.” He closed his eyes to better experience this pleasure that only his Moon Dragon could deliver. “Keep going!” Javen moaned, pulling at his robe until he was naked, a glittering, pale-jeweled statue of perfection. Gara lifted his head and opened his eyes, purring deep in his chest as he watched Javen’s lips begin to redden, wrapped tightly around the base of his cock. Javen’s tongue caressed the head as his fangs gently ran along the shaft. He watched inch after inch of his cock exposed as Javen bobbed his head upwards, only to slam himself back down, taking Gara into the deep vibrating tunnel of his throat. It was almost enough to make him explode. But he was High Lord. He had better control than that. “Turn around!” Gara growled. “Swing that beautiful body around, my mate. I want to taste you on my tongue.” Javen quickly complied, climbing up on the bed and swinging around, never releasing his mate’s throbbing cock from his hungry mouth. “Yes,” Gara moaned as he felt the coolness of Javen’s body pass over him. Javen hovered on his knees just above his mate, his greater height making blowing his lover while placing his own cock at his mouth level easy. He felt Gara take his hips in his hands to position him perfectly, then the downward pull before he sank into the most perfect heat. His moan vibrated the length of Gara’s shaft, causing Gara to suck him hard. When Gara ran a dry finger over his hole, Javen’s world exploded in overwhelming pleasure. Rarely used nerves were awakened, and it was so good, so hot, so perfect that he nearly forgot how to breathe. He released Gara’s dick with a small popping sound, threw his head back, and squealed.

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“Oh, I love that sound,” Gara pulled off enough to say as his mate’s long silver hair cascaded around his body, causing minute tremors to travel along his skin. “Let’s see if I can make more.” Gara again lapped at his mate’s long, slender cock, relishing the coolness of his flesh before rooting further backwards to nuzzle at his balls. Javen let out a shrill trill that vibrated his whole body as Gara drew closer to his hungry hole. And then he was there, his tongue lapping at the pale, puckered opening, teasing the skin by creating small wet circles around his anus. “So sweet.” Gara breathed on Javen’s hole, watching the muscle pucker as Javen pushed back for more -- more pressure, more contact… just more. “Pretty baby,” he breathed, “and all for me.” He licked at his opening, applying pressure until the muscle opened and he found himself sinking into the tight ring that clenched at his tongue. “Gara!” Javen wailed, his body freezing in place. “My Lord!” “Mmm,” Gara purred, the vibrations traveling up through his chest and mouth to Javen’s ass. Javen felt his body soften, felt his whole being start to shiver as his body began to produce a natural lubricant that eased his muscles and slicked the way for Gara’s further explorations. Tasting the sweet, slick essence of his mate, Gara pressed a finger in beside his tongue, stretching him out, stimulating nerves and making his Moon Dragon wail out his need. “Perfect,” Gara gasped, pulling his mouth away. He added another finger and slowly began to scissor them. “Now open for me, Sweet One. Open wide for your tora.” “Ga -- Gara!” Javen shuddered as his body wracked with pleasure, as his bonded’s heat permeated through him, warming him from the inside as he once again enslaved his soul. “Pl -- please!” “Soon,” Gara soothed, stroking his mate’s side with his free hand, caressing the softly scaled skin of his back and legs. “Soon I will fill you to overflowing.”

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Groaning his agreement, Javen again lowered his head, his forked tongue licking and lapping, rapidly stroking the hot, hard column of flesh he still held in his hands. He wanted this piece of meat deep inside him. His whole being felt empty, starving for the heat of his bonded. In retaliation, a grinning Gara added a third finger as he took his lover’s balls into his mouth, gently nipping at the hairless flesh, soothing the loose skin around them with his tongue. Javen whimpered, then opened his throat and swallowed him whole again, the thick cock feeling at home in his throat. Orally pleasing his mate did something to him, sent his desires spiraling higher. It was Gara’s special taste, and the scent… and knowing that no one else would ever have his bonded this way. He’d reared his lover to be the perfect bed companion, the perfect commander and leader, the perfect tora. And now he reveled in the fruits of his labor. “Now, Gara!” “Soon!” Gara returned, relishing the feel of the tight, velvety soft muscles clenching around his driving fingers, feeling the cool flesh absorb his heat and soften to make ready for his driving cock. “Now!” Javen demanded, to which Gara replied by slowly beginning to fingerfuck his ass. Javen’s body arched, a scream tearing from his throat as his beloved touched the prostate spots in his anal walls and sent flames flying through his being. “Gara!” he screamed, tears welling up in his eyes. Lights flashed and exploded behind his closed lids. “High Lord!” “Soon!” Gara laughed again, sinking back to suck Javen’s cock deep into his mouth, not stopping until his tongue could caress the hairless base of his shaft. Javen dove back on his beloved’s cock, swallowing him as deep as he could, until his nose rested on his balls, then he began to trill. That did it.

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“Kami-sama!” Gara ripped his fingers out of his mate’s ass and shifted back far enough to pull out of that sweet mouth and throw Javen onto his back. “Now!” he groaned, ignoring the triumphant look in his mate’s eyes as he spread Javen’s legs wide and welcoming. “Now!” Javen agreed, lying there like a jeweled demi-god on a fall of pale hair, with glowing purple eyes and a voracious desire. In a flash, Gara covered his mate, his hands fisting in that silken silver hair, his teeth going to his neck and the twin punctures -- their binding mark -- that made Javen arch up and fist the furs. Gara’s hips forged a path between Javen’s spread thighs, forcing them wider as the heated hardness of his cock thrust between pale, rounded cheeks. One of Javen’s hands reached down and gripped his bonded’s cock, positioning it at his flowing wet opening, urging him to spear the thick head deep inside his willing body. “To whom do you belong?” Gara growled, tossing his head back, sending hair and sweat flying out of his eyes. “To whom do you belong?” “The High Lord!” Javen screamed, arching up, trying to force Gara where he needed him the most. “Again!” he growled, his body vibrating with the need to pierce the coolness of his mate’s body, to use friction and heat and his thick meat to warm his Javen from the inside out. “Tell me!” “To you, Gara!” Javen shrieked, his legs wrapping around his bonded’s waist, using the strong muscles to pull him in closer. He hissed as the head barely breached his opening. “To you, High Lord, Gara, my Bonded, my Own!” “Yes!” Gara roared and slammed his hips forward. They both froze. Time stopped and restarted in a rush as Javen let out a high trill of joy and triumph. His bonded was home, where he belonged, deep inside his body, heating him like no one or nothing ever could. “Gara!” he trilled, heat and joy filling him, making his muscles weak and trembly while his cock hardened even further.

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Pressed against the rippling muscles of his bonded’s stomach and his own firm form, Javen’s cock began to tremble and leak a white precum, a cool contrast to the heat his Gara was generating. “My Moon Dragon,” Gara gasped, pulling back inch by luscious inch until only the head remained in Javen’s cool body. He closed his eyes and thrust forward again, slamming himself deep and fast, making his lover writhe and arch beneath him. He felt his beloved’s claws rake his back, and roared in pleasure at the marking. He pulled out and thrust again, grunting with effort as his love’s body slowly began to absorb his heat, taking it for his own. Faster he moved, faster and harder, ignoring the clawed feet that dug into his ass, ignoring the slashing, burning pain of his lover’s claws on his back and sides, ignoring the whole world that surrounded him. Javen was his all, his everything, and he strove to prove it with tongue, with cock, with his whole being and the heat of his soul. “Gara!” Javen began to chant, trilling like mad as his lover advanced and retreated from his body. “Gara! Gara! Garagaragara… Gara!” The dragon threw back his head as he felt his body open deeper, accepting the give of heat and life that his mate delivered. He arched his back, his head whipping from side to side as his beloved’s cock swelled deep inside him, stretching his sensitive walls, striking each and every prostate point in his body. No one else could ever fill him this way. No one could ever fulfill all his needs and desires. No one but Gara. “Going to explode!” Gara gasped, pressing down to get more friction on his beloved mate’s cock, feeling the cool shaft turn blazing hot from contact with his body. “Going to fill you up!” “Yes!” Javen screamed, vocal in his pleasures. “Yes, Gara! Yes!” Gara gripped his lover’s thighs, bending Javen almost double as he began to power-fuck his mate, slamming his hips as deep as he could, wanting to crawl into his mate’s body where it was safe and cool and nothing could ever hurt him. But he wanted

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more. He wanted his mate screaming and clawing, giving his whole soul over to him. And he never wanted it to end. “Come with me,” he gasped, sweat stinging his eyes, his hands fighting to hold the dragon’s body in the perfect position to draw out those cries and screams. “Follow me, Javen! Come with me!” Then he twisted, grinding his hips, and Javen trilled, shrieked. An explosion of cool wetness struck his stomach, and the most delicious clenching of his mate’s anal muscles sent him over the edge. “Yes!” he growled as Javen arched, stiffened and screamed out his climax. “Kami-sama, yes!” He closed his eyes, humming in pleasure as his mate’s body clenched around him, milking him, pulling his orgasm from his passion-drenched body. He hissed, and then slammed himself as deep inside Javen as he could get, wanting to plant his seed as deep and as far as he could, wanting some part of him to remain with his lover even when they were parted. His back burned, his tail whipped in wild circles, his balls drew up, and then his cock pulsed, sending shot after shot of fiery hot seed deep into his mate. “Kami-sama, Javen!” he groaned, shuddering as his seed filled his beloved, as his cock was bathed in his own heat, and his world exploded and reformed in the image of his Moon Dragon. “Beloved! Javen!” Then those now-warm arms reached out for him, the silky legs moving down as his rapidly deflating cock slid from its snug berth. “My Bonded,” Javen purred, a trill of contentment leaving his throat as he snuggled close to the fiery body that blanketed him. “My High Lord.” Later, he would see to the new battle wounds that stretched across his mate’s chest and arms. He could kiss and caress each sting mark and each bit of skin made rough from space exposure. He would heal and count each mark on his beloved’s body, then he would rejoice to see that they’d survived to see another heat cycle.

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But for now, Javen was relaxed and at peace, filled with heat and content to bask in the glory of his torajin bonded. “Home,” a soft, feminine voice whispered in the back of his mind, and Javen whole-heartedly agreed. Wherever his bonded traveled, no matter where he found himself, Javen knew that within his arms lay home.

Chapter 2 Lost in the orgasmic haze and curled around the sensual warmth that only his mate could provide, Javen floated along in a state of near sleep, his mind uncluttered by worries of the Phoenix Strand or the dirt-siders who had invaded his home. He was so content and lost in the bliss he only found in Gara’s arms that he almost mistook the voice in his head as mere fancy. Javen… But it called to him, pulling him from his lassitude yet not fully awakening him. Javen. It is time. Javen curled more protectively around his bonded even as his mind began to whir, his vision behind his closed eyes transforming into a stunning kaleidoscope of green and yellow lights. Javen, the voice teased and tantalized. Is it not time to return home? “Home,” he whimpered, snuggling closer to his mate, burying his face deeper into Gara’s neck. Your need to be there is greatly diminished. Is it not time to lead them home? “Lead?” he whispered, moaning, his body trying to reject the idea. He just wanted to lie here, to rest, to be with his bonded. It is time, little one, the voice continued. It is time for the Imperious One to change, and with his change, all the rest shall follow. When that happens, it is imperative that you return home. “Home?” again he asked, his eyes fluttering behind their lids. Then suddenly the kaleidoscope lights cleared, and Javen nearly gasped at the brilliant and beautiful land they revealed.

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Tall trees, the likes of which he had only seen in Old Earth books, towered over a fresh green land. Crystal clear lakes and rivers flowed, providing life for colorful plants of all sorts. Aquatic life danced and frolicked in those waters, as several avian creatures with bright and beautiful plumage danced in the air. The air itself was perfumed by the scent of life and harmony, things he thought only existed in his dreams. “Home,” he repeated, reaching out to this place, to the grassy hills and the entrancing flora that he’d only seen in fantasies, in dreams of freedom. “Home.” His own tears running down his face began to draw him out of his dream. “No,” he whimpered as he began to spiral backwards, the lights returning to cloud his vision of their perfect home. “No!” “I am merely the messenger,” the female voice whispered as he felt himself being pulled from this most perfect of places. “Seek me, Imperious One, and the rest shall follow.” “Who…?” Then a flash filled his eyes, the light bright enough to send him jerking out of his lover’s arms, forcing him upright and away from the enclosing heat that only his bonded could provide. There was a face, a form… “Moon Dragon?” Gara’s arms encircled him protectively from the back. His lover pressed against his trembling body. “Moon Dragon?” he asked again, purring deep in his chest, seeking to soothe his mate. “Gara?” Javen’s voice trembled in the cool darkness of their rooms. Yes, their rooms. Javen wiped the tears away with one shaking hand, observing the sterile gray metal that made up their quarters, his eyes straying to the colorful robes he had created with the shredded remains of the Phoenix Strand. He’d decorated the walls with them in an attempt to bring some color to the vast darkness of their own piece of space. He inhaled the smell of forced oxygen -- essential for the humans who invaded their peace from time to time to poke and prod at their creations, though neither he nor his bonded needed it to survive -- not the scent of clean, clear water or the smell of growing things in a never ending season of spring.

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“Gara?” he asked, his voice trembling as he pulled himself under the strictest of controls -- a daily affair for him, like washing or having his long hair bound. “Have I ever told you of… turtles?”

*** The title High Lord Chancellor came with much responsibility and so very little gratification. But the one thing Gara was more than grateful for was the suite of rooms he occupied when he went through his heat cycle. For once he could be sure his mate was comfortable and receiving care for any injuries he might hide. It was one of the few concessions the white coats granted them for all their hard work and dedication to the protection of the New Earth Sphere. He knew that there were others of his kind, the torajin, and their dragon partners the ryuujin. He could feel the low thrum of their energy in their chambers below, felt the calling of his own kind, but they were not his main concern at the moment. His mate was overdue, and he was feeling a powerful need to sate himself deep with the tight confines of his lover’s body. His nose twitched as he rounded the corner of the circular space station, his boot heels ringing out loudly on the metallic floors of the giant structure. The sound echoed the beats of his heart, emphasized the loneliness and the longing he felt when he was apart from his own precious Moon Dragon. He knew when he had reached the rarely occupied area known as the Wellness Center by the smell. He hated the odd smell of the humans, who had no business in space. An incursion of the dirt-side dwellers, even for their annual physicals, was an uncomfortable invasion on all their senses. He hated the chemical, sterile smell of the medical floor, the scent of the oxygenized air that was heated to an almost unbearable degree and then pumped into the dark corridors for the dirt-siders’ comfort, the smell of their linens and syn-cotton. It always reminded him of the labs where he had been hatched. But then the labs always reminded him of his Javen.

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His moon dragon had been scheduled for disposal, his handlers deeming him wild and untamable. Javen had existed for over seventy years before Gara had been processed. Some of the scientists had come to believe Javen was un-mateable and therefore a subject for extermination and disposal. It was only his tremendous power, his unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and the way he organized and led the other unmated ryuujin that had prevented his immediate destruction. He was an anomaly, nothing more than a good mystery that kept the white coats happy. But even their curiosity could easily turn to boredom, and eventually Javen found himself on the list for immediate termination. Then, just days before Javen’s disposal date, Gara had been hatched. His first real memories had been of Javen caring for him as he grew and developed. Javen had taught him to speak, taught him to walk, taught him to survive in the world where they were considered necessary monsters by most. Javen had made his dirt-side years tolerable. Had comforted him during the riots that periodically struck the Fetus Centers, explained why the humans both revered and reviled them. And it had been Javen who had taken him for his first ride into the starry black, who had shown him how the burning in his chest could be interpreted and utilized when he felt any signs of an enemy approaching, and how to harness the anger that fed the fire deep in his soul. And when he first felt the fire in his loins, it had been within his Moon Dragon’s tight cool body that he slaked the heat in his cock and balls, and in return learned how to draw upon his own energy to sustain his newly bonded mate. Javen was his everything… mentor, supporter, protector, and when the time came, perfect lover. Javen had reared him to be the perfect soldier, a weapon of massive destructive capabilities and the perfect dominant to his genetically designed submissive. It all worked because they had been designed that way. The first Ryuujin warriors had been little more than ravenous killing machines, insatiably angry, insatiably hungry. Though they had the ability to fight the invisible menace that

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suddenly struck the colonies of New Earth almost as soon as they had terraformed the land to their needs, they lacked thinking intelligence, relying only on instinct. The original graveyard scrolls where the DNA for the dragon warriors was harnessed never said anything about their mindless pursuit of destruction. All the wall scrolls the scared and frightened survivors had discovered led them to believe dragonkind were protectors of man. It was the inclusion of human genetic material that had made the dragon warriors so unstable. After further study, the scrolls also revealed that the dragon had a natural helpmate in the torajin, the tiger warrior. After much debate and study, those early scientists had discovered, hidden deep within the dragons’ final resting grounds, the bones of the remarkably smaller and more delicate torajin. Plans were made and genetic material harnessed to create the helpmate and, hopefully, control device -- the torajin. After several years of setbacks and minor disasters, the first bonding between a torajin and a ryuujin was successful. And after much tweaking of genetics, the winged, shape-shifting warriors were paired with their fire-creating mates, and the Space Protection League came to be. But the same genetics that allowed the white coats to create such wondrous warriors also decreed that the ryuu, the dragon, had a long lifespan and took years to hatch, while the tora, the tiger, proved easier to manipulate and create. Several hundred torajin could be bred within a year, yet only a handful of ryuujin were hatched. The genetic manipulation employed to create a calmer, more controllable dragon had also given them submissive qualities. Who better to teach their destined dominant partner how to treat their submissive than the ones who would be in subjection to that mate? The ryuujin taught their mates to maintain their control and encouraged their torajin to care for them. It was much harder to abuse someone who had cared for you during your formative years, who was the font of information from which you fed. The process worked for the warrior pairs, and even the white-coats could not improve upon the system, especially if the ryuujin were loyal to New Earth Sphere and

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its colonies. Their success was unquestioned, yet the mysteries of the fire of the torajin and the shifting abilities of the ryuujin had yet to be explained. No one knew how, but with the patience of their dragon forefathers, Javen and the other winged soldier pairs managed for centuries to protect the purists who hated their very existence and the planet they so feared to return to. It was a sad existence, but as long as the white-coated humans stayed dirt-side and left the warriors to the society they’d so carefully crafted, they could survive with relatively few reminders of their station in life. Gara slowed his strides as he contemplated the history Javen had schooled him in just as carefully and intently as he had tutored him in weaponry, warfare and stratagem. Human history was… strange. Life had begun for humankind on New Earth Sphere as a simple accident. The portal opened in the Way of Milk, and the populations of Old Earth were scared and intrigued. For ninety-nine years after, the denizens of Main Earth studied and plotted. Ninety-nine years it took them to build a fleet of ships to transport the new explorers. Ninety-nine years it took them to develop a cryo-sleep chamber and all necessary drugs to prevent premature aging and continue cell respiration. Ninety-nine years it took them to trust that the portal, the wormhole, would not close. Ninety-nine years to send the fleet through. And on the hundredth year, the portal closed. Cut off from their point of origin, the fleet’s on-board computers changed their flight path and took the explorers to shelter on the nearest oxygen-nitrogen based planet they could find. The explorers awoke, and much to their shocked horror, found themselves cut off from the mother planet they now so desperately wanted to return to. No one knew how long the explorers from Old Earth drifted, no one knew where they had landed, and no one knew how to get them back home.

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From the ashes of the torn dream, the explorers became settlers, and New Earth rose. Learning began anew. Racism and crime were unheard of as all races and religions came together to survive. It took the whole fleet of scientists and warriors to create a new civilization, and no one wanted to repeat the mistakes made on Mother Earth. It should have been utopia, and for a long time it was. For centuries, the settlers lived and thrived, and it was good… until they came. Gara sighed and ran his fingers through his wild red hair. The new scars on his back and chest itched, his glands burned, and his cock swelled in want of his mate. He was deathly tired of thinking about fighting the unending horde, and Javen had been gone for far too long. Twitching his nose, his tail lashing determinedly behind him, Gara continued his trek toward the medical center. He wanted his mate and his down time before the next station cycle. But as he increased his pace, the halls seemed to slowly become filled with human types in white jackets. His intuition sharpened, and he increased his step toward the Wellness Center where his mate was supposedly being examined. As he drew closer, the sounds of excitement and dread seemed to bounce about the rooms at the speed of light. No doubt the dirt-siders had made a new development in sonic cleaners or some such nonsense. Shrugging his shoulders, he lifted his head, inhaled deeply, and zeroed in on his mate’s scent. Spicy and flowery, the scent of his Javen drew him steadily. So strong was its pull that he nearly ignored all that was going on around him, following the invisible thread that led him directly to his lover. He rounded a corner in the center and made his way to the exam rooms. “Hail, High Lord Chancellor.” The soft voice was enough to make his knees weak and turn his muscles to water. “Javen,” he acknowledged, bowing his head and grinning at the picture his mate made.

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Javen was dressed in his usual white and silver robes, their colors complementing the scale pattern that flowed over his pale skin. His silver, star-kissed hair hung down his back, bound in the traditional braid of a mated flyer, cool purple and blue ribbons twined throughout. “I am ready to leave this place.” Javen spoke softly, his purple eyes narrowed in anger. “I am assured that my health is not a concern, yet they --” He nodded toward the door where every so often a white-coated doctor could be seen walking by. “-- refuse to let me leave.” “Well, it is past time you retire with your mate,” Gara snarled, his eyes flashing the fire and determination that had seen him move speedily through the ranks at Flyer Command. “I have a need of you and no one, not these vets they call doctors nor these white suited dirt-side scientists with their probing and testing, will keep you from me.” “As you wish.” Javen smiled, gracefully skidding down from the exam table and striding toward his mate. “You do appear rather shaggy.” And it was true. Gara’s red hair was unusually mussed, standing on end in his heat-agitation, the broad black stripes that encircled his eyes darker than normal, more pronounced. “And my wishes are paramount,” Gara hissed, his tail lashing from side to side as he watched his mate move, smooth like waves of silk, toward him. It didn’t matter that his mate was taller or older, or had practically reared him from a cub. His mate was his, and his Moon Dragon would go where he commanded. “Are you in need, my mate?” Javen asked, his grin positively wicked as he sauntered around Gara and softly closed the door. “Is there some service that I might offer to ease your --” He licked his lips as Gara turned and tracked his every motion, in a hunger that could not be denied. “-- suffering,” he breathed, stepping up to the tiger, “my tora?” “Your mouth,” Gara answered. “I have a dire need of your mouth.” “Shall I whisper tales of past glories?” Javen moved in close enough to breathe in his lover’s ear, to allow his cool scent to fill his nose, to touch his hot skin with the cool

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caress of his body. “Shall I call your name in whispered words, so soft that those white­ coats never suspect what is going on in this tomb of a room?” Javen’s fingers ghosted over the long silk tunic Gara wore, feeling the heat of his mate through the soft material. “Shall I fall to my knees and press kisses on your --” His hands drifted under the tunic to cup his groin, his fingers toying with the swelling head of his thick, hungry cock. “-- need?” He lapped at his tora’s lips as his fingers gripped his cock. Tightening his grip on the thick shaft, he flicked at the head with his thumb through the barrier of the loose silk pants he wore. “You are getting so… so… wet.” “Suck me.” Gara tangled his hands in Javen’s hair, tugging and pulling at his silver locks. “Suck me hard, suck me long…” Whimpering, Javen dropped to his knees, his mouth watering at the remembered taste of his lover. He licked his lips hungrily as his fingers gripped the waist of Gara’s pants. “Don’t tear them,” Gara growled, gripping his mate’s hands before he could shred his pants. “I refuse to have the good doctors observing my cock.” Chuckling, Javen eased his hand into his bonded’s pants, purring in pleasure as he held his hot flesh. The pants were quickly pulled down, exposing his mate’s thick shaft nestled in a soft bed of red hair, the swollen, heart-shaped cap steadily leaking precum as his excitement grew. But Javen couldn’t answer. He was holding his lover’s cock steady with one hand, caressing his swollen balls with the other, and lowering his mouth hungrily to his dick. “Beloved,” Gara gasped as that forked tong wrapped around the head of his cock, lapping up the sweet, sticky precum, setting his nerves on fire. “We don’t have much time.” “Agreed.” His Ryuu smiled, then went to work in earnest. Tugging at his beloved’s balls, Javen swallowed twice and shoved the whole of his bonded’s cock down his throat.

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Space Opera

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“Yes!” Gara hissed, closing his eyes, his hand going to his lover’s shoulders so as to not muss his perfect braid. Javen trilled happily around his bonded’s thick, leaking cock, gently bobbing his head, making sure to use his tongue to lap up the freely flowing precum. He loved the flavor of his mate, the scent of him, the feel of control he had as he delivered pleasure to him in this way. Gara began to thrust his hips, his soft moans filling the sterile chemical silence of the room. Javen looked up at him from beneath his lowered lashes, his purple orbs glowing gently in pleasure. Gara’s head had dropped back on his shoulders, his bright red mane standing out wildly, his throat vulnerable and exposed. He purred quietly, tremors shaking his whole body as he fought to rein in the desperate vocalizations and movements. But his chest heaved, his balls churned, and a fine sheen of sweat was building on his forehead. “Kami, you are so good at that,” Gara moaned. “Suck me, beloved. Pull me in deep and never let me go.” Closing his eyes, running his tongue over every inch, vein, and bump of his bonded’s shaft, Javen settled in to enjoy. He hummed as he felt the thick cock heat up, expand, and begin to leak more tasty precum. His own cock began to swell. He whimpered, his need building. His hips began to automatically grind. Gara looked down at the needy sound, noticed how Javen’s hips seemed to move as if receiving his cock, and decided he would never leave his mate in need. He tightened his grip on his lover’s shoulders, tugged until Javen pulled off his cock. Gara raised his mate, pulling him upright until he could easily nuzzle at that pale, sweetsmelling neck. His tongue lashed out, lapping at the mating marks. “You and me together,” he breathed, lifting his hands to gently caress Javen’s cheeks. A small smile pulled at his lips as Javen nestled into his warm hand. Javen’s tongue flashed out, its forked tip wrapping around Gara’s thumb. “You are so good to me,” Javen whispered, a lilting trill emerging from his throat.

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“As you are and always were to me,” Gara replied, his other hand parting Javen’s robes to reach inside, to cup the cool flesh of his slim, hard shaft. Quickly, Javen gripped the heat of Gara’s cock, his fingers flittering over the shaft and tip. He closed his eyes, a moan rising in his chest as he felt the difference between the two of them. Gara was indeed the Yin to his Yang, the one thing that completed his soul. His hands began to shift, sliding up and down Gara’s shaft. He bent down to nuzzle at his lover’s ear as precum began to drip down the thick shaft, making his motions easier. Gara shuddered and tightened his fist around his beloved’s cock. It filled his hand with its cool weight that eased the fire burning in his soul. “You feel so good,” Gara purred, licking at Javen’s neck, moving his hand faster. His other hand dropped from his mate’s face and slipped into his robes, first tugging at his cool balls then reaching around to cup his ass. He pulled himself closer to the cold that he desired while giving his mate the heat he so craved. “As do you, my Bonded,” Javen sighed, his breath catching. The dual sensation of having his cock stroked and his ass handled set his form trembling. “Tighter,” Gara gasped. Javen pulled his attention away from his own pleasures enough to respond to his mate’s needs. “Tighter, my Ryuu. Yes… Feels so good.” His eyes closing, he leaned against his mate’s body. They began to pump each other’s cocks, their heat rising as they moaned softly into each other’s bodies, muffling the sounds of pleasure they both made. “You do me right, Gara.” Javen locked his knees as they threatened to give. Feeling this, Gara took on more of his mate’s weight, pulling him tighter to his heat as he stroked him faster. “You going to blow, Javen?” he asked. “You going to cover my hand in your cold? Going to cool me down, my Moon Dragon?” The dragon trilled slowly as his hips thrust against his mate’s hand, as he felt the overwhelming heat of his bonded flow through him. Their connection was almost spiritual. He let his toes curl, scraping at the cool floor of the station.

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“Yes, beloved.” Javen ran his thumb around the head of Gara’s cock, spreading the moisture, increasing the sensitivity. But Gara wanted his Moon Dragon to explode first, so he pulled away and dropped to his knees. “Gara?” Javen asked, confused and disappointed at having this warm treat pulled first from his mouth and now his hand. Gara was going to get it for teasing. But before he could complain, he felt his bonded’s hot, wet mouth surround his cool flesh. “Gara!” Javen’s knees gave way, only his mate’s grip on his hips holding him upright. He looked down to see his bonded’s red hair bobbing in and out of the folds of his own robes and closed his eyes on a groan, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Come for me.” Gara moved one hand to tug at his lover’s churning balls. “Mmm, my Moon Dragon.” His finger tapped against Javen’s hole, rubbing the quivering flesh there, feeling the natural lubrication begin to flow. “Hungry little hole.” He pressed firmly, slowly sinking one finger deep inside. At the same time, he sucked Javen’s cock deep into the back of his throat, purring loudly as the Moon Dragon’s muscles clenched deliciously around his finger, tugging and rippling with a chilly, silken embrace. “Ga-Gara!” Javen’s muffled groan was the only warning Gara got before his mate’s cock swelled and began to shoot cool, sweet-flavored cum. His heart pounding in his chest, Javen struggled to regain his composure as a grinning Gara slid his finger out of his ass and emerged from beneath his robes. “Beloved,” he panted as Gara rose to his feet. His cock strained out obscenely large against the black of pants that barely hung on his hips. Javen licked his lips before dropping to his knees. Gara bit his cheek to hold in a shriek as Javen wrapped his long tongue around his bonded’s cock and tightened it as he sucked. His mate’s mouth cooled the boiling of his blood as that tongue seemed to vibrate and tease his aching, throbbing cock. He gripped his beloved’s shoulders and leaned forward, shoving hard and fast into that welcoming mouth, letting the coolness soothe his soul.

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“Javen, my Ryuu.” His eyes closed and his red hair stood on end, like a giant flame. “Kami-sama, Beloved,” he whispered, urgency in his voice. “I’m going to…” Then he was exploding, sending streams of hot, steaming seed down his lover’s throat. Javen quickly swallowed his lover’s liquid heat, letting some drip from the sides of his mouth as he sucked hard, stripping every drop of seed from the pulsing shaft. Then he began to tenderly lick his lover’s cock clean, not leaving one trace of his release on the wilting member. “Javen.” Gara bent forward in an almost worshipful manner to share a tender kiss, his tongue invading his mate’s mouth, moaning at the combined tastes of his seed and his lover’s essence. Grinning, Javen tucked Gara back into his pants, patting him gently as he adjusted the now bloated cock and his soft, swinging balls. Before he could rise to his feet, however, Gara let out a growl and turned to face the door. Someone was coming, and it was someone Gara was not in the mood to deal with, if the raised hairs on the back of his neck meant anything. “Later, beloved,” Javen whispered, tugging his robes back into place as best as he could. “Later,” Gara agreed, and turned to face the exam room door.

Chapter 3 Sensing someone about to enter the space he temporarily claimed as his own, Gara growled. He quickly urged his ryuu to his feet, pushing the taller male behind him as he adjusted his clothing. The door clicked open and the station’s main doctor, Doctor Giraldi, entered, the usual smile on his face, the usual clipboard in his hand. “High Lord Chancellor.” He nodded politely. “Ryuu Major Javen.” He attempted to hide the excitement in his voice as he stared at the ryuu. “Good doctor.” Gara nodded politely, resisting the urge to rip the human’s throat from his body for even being in the presence of his mate while he was in heat. It was a heady urge, but it could be resisted. He narrowed his eyes at the man. They all had to remain on the doctor’s good side lest they be issued a warning, then a one-way trip back to New Earth for insubordination. Javen had turned his back to the doctor. He wiped his mouth and arranged his clothing in a respectable manner, all the while keeping alert to what was going on the room. The doctor addressed Gara. “I apologize greatly, High Lord, for the time these tests took. I’m afraid we’ve had something of a breakthrough in one of our test subjects.” “Poor bastard.” Gara tilted his head to the side and awaited the reaction from the human. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you are referring to,” the doctor stated, his voice just as cold, his manner just as observant as Gara’s. “Your breakthrough…?” “Yes, we were delayed because of something rather extraordinary.”

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“Nothing dangerous, I trust?” “No, nothing of the sort.” The doctor laughed. “Very mind bending, I assure you, but nothing dangerous.” Doctor Giraldi turned to Javen and nodded. “Ryuu Major, I am sorry for the delay. I know you have duties to perform. You are, as always, in perfect health, sir. It is an honor to have a ryuu of such note here in service at our station.” “Am I free to go, doctor?” Javen politely asked, a placid smile on his face as he stepped up beside his mate. “With my blessing, Ryuu Major. Although there is an anomaly in your bloodwork that may require further study. I need to check the equipment and then may I request your return?” “As you require,” Javen replied politely, though his body stiffened -- something only Gara noticed. Unconsciously, the tora growled under his breath, watching the interaction between his doctor and his mate with some interest. “Will tomorrow be a bother?” Translation, “You will be here, or else.” Neither Javen nor Gara missed the underlying meaning of the politely couched demand. “Until tomorrow, then.” Javen nodded and turned toward his mate. “My tora?” “Yes, until tomorrow,” Gara grumbled. Once he was sure his mate was at his side, he turned on his heel and exited the room. “I do not trust them,” Gara growled as soon as they were far enough away from the Wellness Center and the white-coated humans that their words would not be overheard. “I hate that they arrive every two hundred turns of the station and demand our compliance like we are no more than overgrown, working pets for their amusement.” “They are not all bad.” Javen snickered. “And they are so amusing as they run around with an attitude that suggests they know more than you or I. They need us, yet they attempt to lord over us and subtly remind us of our place. They are rather interesting creatures.”

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“They are creatures who should keep to their place -- dirt-side.” Gara shook his head as if to shake the cloying smell of human from his memory. “They should keep to where they are wanted and needed and stop invading the only space we dare call our own.” “Occasionally they have good ideas,” Javen said. “They allowed me to bond with you.” “As I hear it, my ryuu, you tore down three sets of blast doors to get to me when I was hatched. I think their technology had little to do with that.” “Bonding urges are strong.” Javen defended his actions, grinning down at his mate. “Besides, you were so cute with your fuzzy orange hair and bald tail. All small and mewling up at me…” “I’ll show you mewling.” Gara winked at his mate, his usual stoic demeanor melting in Javen’s good humor. But just as quickly, he stiffened his spine, a cold mask of indifference dropping over his features. Javen straightened and was instantly alert; something or someone was coming, and he had to be on proper behavior lest he endanger them all. They both relaxed as they caught the familiar scent of Shinji, Gara’s Right Wing. “My Lord.” Shinji nodded, carefully not looking at Javen as a sign of extreme respect. “Ryuu Major.” “My Wing.” Gara formally acknowledged his minor. “There appears to be… much commotion.” The pale blond tora spoke softly, his eyes going back to the only place where the humans felt safe to wander around free and content. “The Wellness Center seems to have enjoyed a sudden influx of white coats and dirt-siders.” “I, too, have noticed this event,” Gara snarled, recalling the unabashed glee that had appeared in the doctor’s eyes while speaking with them. “It concerns me.” “Others, as well,” Shinji whispered. “There are murmurings in the ranks. The torajin are preparing to see who will be chosen for an unwanted vacation.” “No one from my ranks,” the High Lord growled. “None of my tora.”

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The fierce determination on his leader’s face eased the worry of the Second Wing. He would inform the others that their High Lord was still loyal to them, that he knew of no plot to remove one of their own to the fearful hell that would be dirt-side New Earth. “Have you any idea why we have been blessed with such an abundance of joyful white-coats?” Shinji asked politely. “There was talk of a new development,” Gara mused. “They seem overly excited and the good doctor…” He shook his head, transmitting his wariness where the doctor was concerned. “Then it bodes ill for us, High Lord.” “I shall endeavor to discover what great mystery these white-coats have discovered on our station. It shall prove interesting, if nothing else, Shinji.” “Shall I pass the word?” the Second Wing asked, stepping closer to his leader. “Pass the word and stay alert.” Gara placed his palm on his Second’s chest, a show of trust among their kind. Stepping back, Shinji grinned, exposing his black gums and the sharp fangs that seemed all the more menacing and white because of the color. “And the Ryuu Minor?” Gara asked somewhat more loudly as he caught the scent of earth and greenery, a sure sign of an approaching white-coat. “Hale, hearty, cool of mind and body,” Shinji answered, following his Lord’s lead. “I shall pass on your regards.” “And mine as well,” Javen added, meaning that the ryuujin would be organizing soon, trading and gathering information. As a rule, the ryuujin were quiet and peaceful, left to wander the station among the human white-coats at will. In truth, the white-coats hardly paid any attention to the seemingly passive dragons, so they often let key bits of information pass through their lips, headless of who was listening and making note. “May your fires burn bright.” Shinji nodded to Gara as he continued on his way. “And may your heart always be filled with cold.” As he spoke the cryptic words, he reached out and gripped Javen’s hands.

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The white-coat moved past them, heading toward the observation deck, and Gara pulled his mate toward their rooms. Growing conspiracy or no, he was in heat, and his mate smelled so good and cool. There was a time for everything, and he would see to his people as soon as he got his hot blood under control. In the mean time, there was a soft bed and cool flesh waiting to be explored, and a hunger to be sated deep within the body of his cool, purple-eyed mate.

*** “They are planning something,” Gara purred, burying his face in the silky hair of his mate, inhaling the combined smell of sex and excitement that coated both their bodies. “I can smell it, Javen.” “They always plot…” Javen began, but paused as he felt the calling, felt the lights surround him momentarily, stealing his train of thought as his mind returned to that place the female voice called home. “I believe it’s a bit more serious this time, my Moon Dragon.” Gara unwrapped himself from his mate’s cool body and sat up, his fingers carding softly through Javen’s long, silver hair. “Never has a dirt-sider disrupted our daily lives as these new ones have. They come here with their tests, which is nothing new, but the attitude…” “Yes,” Javen muttered, pulling himself to the present with effort. “They flout the rules, the power we demanded and which was granted in return for placing our lives in danger to protect them. They flout the rules our forefathers thought to set, and that they agreed were fair and just.” “Maybe we should all just leave them to their own devices,” Gara snarled, his eyes narrowing in agitation as he recalled his mate’s discomfort with this new doctor, Giraldi. Gara had distrusted him from the first, when the white-coat had examined him on his return from the outer black. Giraldi had poked and prodded, bemoaning the fact that his high body temperature, the same temperature that kept his Ryuu from going dormant in the cold

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black of outer space, also sealed any wounds the bug-like Phoenix Strand managed to deliver to his body. Still, the doctor bathed the wounds in his sharp smelling chemicals, carefully setting aside and storing each wipe before freeing him to attend his mate and his heat cycle. It was odd enough for Gara to incinerate the used wipes with a flick of his wrist. Instinct drove him to remove any part of himself from the white-coat’s hands, and he was greatly amused by the groan of dismay the human had let out as the white cloths went up in smoke. And now, the same doctor was speaking of anomalies in his Moon Dragon’s testing? This was odd enough for him to put out the word to Shinji in the old code. He knew all the torajin would now be extra cautious with their Ryuujin mates, would have their own sentries keep watch on the white-coats and report any odd behavior back to them. “And give them reason to invade our… homes… on a more permanent basis?” Javen snorted, stammering over the word home again. His forehead wrinkled in thought, and the picture of the turtle flashed through his mind. “Mmm.” Gara nodded his head as he considered his mate’s words. “So you would recommend caution, then?” “Caution,” Javen agreed, settling against his mate’s body again, drawing in his warmth. His own body felt unnaturally cold. “When you return to the Wellness Center on the morrow-cycle --” Gara spoke softly, “-- be cautious. I do not trust them -- Giraldi or the usual Doctor Takeda. If anything goes amiss, call for me, my Moon Dragon, and I will be there before your trills can reach the others.” “You do not trust them, these new white-coats?” “I trust no one who smells of New Earth and also sedition and deceit.”

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“You don’t trust the whole of humankind in New Earth Sphere, then.” Javen chuckled. “After watching them protest the very thing keeping them alive? After watching them storm the Centers? It has been my belief that we would all be better off if we let a coven of the Phoenix Strand land on the Sphere, burn up a few cities, and carry off a few of those protestors. Then maybe they would let us be, to do the jobs they designed for us, instead of trying to impart upon us all the years of their human wisdom and the grandiose way they have of demanding that we serve them and like it.” “They are silly creatures,” Javen agreed. “What is the old saying, cutting off their noses to spite their faces? Something along those lines.” “Silly or not, I do not like their new interest in you, my Moon Dragon.” “I will be cautious.” Javen ran cool fingers along his mate’s body, drawing in more of his nurturing heat. “Remain aware, and if they try anything, anything at all, no matter how minor, trill for me.” “So be it,” Javen promised, shaking his head to knock away the last lingering thoughts of lights and water creatures that only existed in legend. “My instincts are telling me something is wrong, my Mate,” Gara continued, wrapping himself protectively around the only creature he would die for, would deliver up his very soul to deliver from darkness. “And my instincts are never wrong.”

Chapter 4 Early the next morning, Javen arrived at the Wellness Center as politely ordered, his hair in its traditional braid, this day adorned in ribbons of silver and lavender. His robes were, as usual, a blinding white, his bare feet silent on the metal floors. “Oh, you are on time,” Dr. Giraldi praised, smiling at the ryuu as if they were having a pleasant morning tea instead of about to poke and prod and invade his personal body space. “As ordered,” Javen murmured demurely, looking down instead of at the shorter man. He had to fight the urge to laugh at the small one’s swagger as he moved aside to let him enter the examination room. “Never ordered.” Charm oozed through the doctor’s fake smile. “Never that. It was a request.” “Right,” Javen murmured, his nose wrinkling as if he could smell the smug insincerity wafting off the man. Moving deeper into the room, he perched carefully on the examination table and pulled up his left sleeve. “I need you to undress --” the doctor began. “No.” The doctor looked up from his clipboard in amazement. “No?” “No. I have never disrobed for an exam, and I am not about to start now. The answer is no.” “You know, I can call in the orderlies to force this.” The doctor was not amused. “You can, and then I can eat the orderlies.” Javen’s words were matter-of-fact, not threatening or angry. The doctor froze at that. “Are you threatening me?”

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“No,” Javen returned, his soft voice vaguely amused. “I am stating my right as set by the New Earth Sphere Creation Center more than two hundred years ago. The law states that, in return for risking the life of my mate and myself in combat against hostile enemies, we are granted the rights and privileges to govern ourselves. And among those rights is the right for my personal privacy and protection. You need to draw blood, doctor. My naked form is not required for such a task.” “I insist.” “Then I decline.” “But I must insist.” “Then I shall leave.” “No, you will not!” The doctor tried to hold his shout down to a dull roar, but he was feeling more than a bit perturbed. How dare this creature tell him no? Who was the scientist here? They didn’t have the right… Before he could think of an action that would get him his way and not eaten, the silver dragon threw back his head and began to sing. The loud, wordless song consisted of several sweet, clear tones. It was a beautiful melody, one he had been warned about. His eyes grew wide as a sudden thunder of sound shook the outer hall. The walls of the Wellness Center seemed to shake and vibrate as the tone was answered. It seemed a thousand voices, all raised in tune, were responding to that one song the silver ryuu kept singing. The doctor moved to the door, dropping his clipboard on a table as he debated if it would be prudent to open it and see what was going on. “Doctor?” Another voice called from outside, sounding concerned and a bit angry. “Doctor, what is going on in there?” “I… I don’t…” Giraldi stammered, looking back and forth between the ryuu, who had his eyes closed, his head thrown back as he trilled his song, and the door where the voice was coming through. “Open the door! Get out here now!”

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Still looking between the silver ryuu and the vibrating door, the doctor came to a decision. Cursing under his breath, he swung the door open, to be faced with the angry visage of his superior. “What in the name of the seven hells is going on here?” The taller man standing in the doorway had been coming to the station for as long as Javen could remember. This doctor, unlike Giraldi, seemed to have some respect for the rules that the winged warrior pairs had set up for their own governing and protection. Doctor Takada was known and respected for his actions. Of Asian descent, the Takada family was one of the families responsible for translating the graveyard scrolls and ancient kanji that warned of the invisible menace and of the powers of the protectors of the East and West, the tora and the ryuu. “I instructed the ryuu to undress and…” “Are you insane?” the short, bespectacled Takada growled, his eyes wide in amazement. “Did you not read the pamphlet I produced for all new doctors aboard this space station?” “Why should this one be different than any of the others?” Giraldi argued. “Why should… The rules are the same for all the stations,” Takeda spoke softly but with dangerous intent. “No one is to see a mated ryuu naked. Under no circumstances are you even allowed to ask. They are well within their rights to kill you where you stand.” As this heated debate was going on, Javen maintained his high trill, causing the other ryuujin in the station to respond in kind. Unknown to them, Javen was not sounding a call of alarm -- rather, he was sounding a call of amusement. This tonal song was actually a form of language amongst the ryuujin. Right now, Javen was passing on to his brethren what the new doctor was trying to do and how he was failing miserably. It was all Javen could do to keep from laughing outright. And as an added bonus, he was even giving the details of how the muchrespected Takeda was dressing down the underling. It all was very amusing from a

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dragon’s point of view. But as dragons were known to have the patience of the cosmos and an ageless wisdom, this odd quirk in their humor processors could be overlooked. “What…? They have no right…” “This is their territory, doctor!” Takeda gripped his underling by the arm and pulled him out of the room. “It seems we have a need to discuss a few things.” The door slammed, and the singing stopped. Amused, Javen slid off the exam table and made his way over to the table where Giraldi’s clipboard lay. Curiosity, being one of the dragon’s strongest traits, got the best of him, and within seconds he was flipping through the pages, scanning the medical terminology and deciphering the meanings of the words. His eyes grew wide in shock as he read the results of one particular set of blood work. He was frozen in place for a second, but the sound of footsteps, heralding the return of both doctors, had him placing the clipboard back where he’d found it and reclaiming his seat on the exam table. A mulish Giraldi entered, followed by Takada, who had a deep frown upon his face. “Apologies, Ryuu Major,” Takeda said with a deep bow of respect. “My colleague was not aware of how we do things here.” “Accepted.” Javen returned the bow with a shallow nod. “I must ask, Ryuu Major, have you called for protection?” Takeda knew full well that the ryuujin on this station were well within their rights to make paste of Giraldi and anyone who tried to stop them for the insult paid to the ruling dragon in the station. No matter what anomaly they found in his blood, they had to stick to protocol if they wanted cooperation. “No, I merely sang a warning,” Javen responded politely, his purple eyes carefully neutral as they stared at the sulking Giraldi. “Then may we proceed with retrieving the sample?” Takeda asked, not even moving in Javen’s direction as he awaited an answer. “Or shall we proceed another day?”

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“No, now is fine.” Javen wanted nothing more than to get back to his mate and let him in on what he’d discovered. He carefully controlled the expression on his face, not letting either doctor know what he was thinking. Takeda might be an honorable man, but he was still human. The first rule Javen ever taught Gara was never to trust a human. The rule held them in good stead, especially with this new information he’d just uncovered. With the information he now possessed flowing through his mind, it took major effort to sit and let the doctor poke and prod. “I thank you, Ryuu Major.” Takeda stepped forward and removed a syringe from a drawer near the exam table. Javen bared his arm and, quickly and efficiently, Takeda drew a vial of purple blood from Javen, all under the angered gaze of Giraldi. Within seconds, Javen was on his way back to his mate, his head and heart about to explode with the news he carried.

*** But in the examination room, Giraldi still grumbled. “You should not have let him get away with that. You know what he is.” “He is --” Takeda responded, holding the vial of blood up to the light, examining the thick purple fluid. “-- an Imperial Five-Toed Dragon, a rare creation we fought for years to perfect. He is the only survivor, and we despaired of maintaining him until his tora was hatched. And now, we are certain why he was so hard to create, Giraldi. He is evolution itself, and, my dear doctor, we have all the time we need to examine this pheromone before we have him and his partner returned to New Earth for further study. If he is the only one capable of recreating this miracle, then we are very fortunate and will keep him doing this in our labs. But if others have evolved to this point, we have to find out how they are doing this, and put a stop to it as soon as possible.” Takeda looked over at Giraldi and explained one important detail he obviously could not grasp. “Our control of them is tenuous at best, doctor, and we need to stay one step ahead of them. They are not stupid creatures, Giraldi -- they have the same ability to grow and develop as we humans. The trick is to allow them just enough to think that

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they are getting ahead, to allow them just enough knowledge to stay two steps behind us. And we must do it with a smile on our faces and with warm sincerity in our hearts. Otherwise, they will rise up and break free. And if they, fiercely loyal creatures that they are, decide to break free, that would leave us at the hands of our enemies. And I will destroy them all before I let that happen. Do you understand, doctor?” “Yeah,” Giraldi grumbled, understanding but not liking the censure placed upon him. “Educate them enough, give them enough to make them grateful to serve us.” “That’s correct, doctor.” Takeda smiled. “And this Five-Toed Imperial Dragon may just have delivered the collar that will keep them leashed to us for another century or more.”

Chapter 5 Gara stared at his mate, stunned into silence. Of all the information Javen had brought him over the years, this had to be the most unexpected. He had been darkly amused by the amusement his mate had trilled. Though it had taken everything he had not to rush from the Audience Chamber where the other torajin had gathered to speak to him -- almost unheard of when a torajin was in heat -when the trill first began. His Second Wing had pointed out that his mate was amused and toying with the white-coat, and still Gara had to rein in his urge to set all dirt-siders ablaze with his discomfiture. He had remained to let the others know of his concerns and to warn about Giraldi’s actions, and the others took his words to heart. A sea of angry torajin had left the chamber, vowing to warn and protect their mates against the machinations of the dirt-siders and to seek out any information they could about this newest invasion. So it knocked Gara almost on his tail and right out of his righteous anger when his Moon Dragon told him what he had discovered. “Are… are you sure?” “There can be no doubt,” Javen replied, torn between laughing and crying. “Javen…” “My Lord?” “Javen, please… don’t.” Javen always had a habit of hiding behind cool propriety whenever he felt threatened, angry, or afraid, and this time was no different. “Don’t hide from me behind Ryuujin propriety.” “Well, Gara.” Javen sneered. “What else do you expect from me? Suddenly, I’m evolution’s little darling, and they all know about it!”

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“Javen.” Gara reached out to hold his ryuujin, to comfort him, but the fierce dragon was having none of that. He jerked away and started to pace. His bare feet were soundless, but the claws that tipped his five toes tore the carpeting. “There will be no opportunity to parlay, Gara. There can be no accord. Our freedom relies on the fact that they think they can control us, control our numbers, our populations, our movements. When word of this gets out, none will be safe.” “They need us,” Gara countered, watching as his distraught mate began to transform without even realizing it. The purple-scaled pattern around his neck and eyes grew thicker, spreading out in protective plates to hide his vulnerable points. “Without our cooperation, the flying menace will return.” “They care not for the flying menace, Gara. It is a thing of legend to most of them. This new breed of human, they do not recall the fields set ablaze, the crops stolen or wiped out within a single night. They do not remember the starvation or the fear as their numbers began to diminish. They have forgotten the importance of our role here as they grow fat and lazy on the excess brought about through the sweat and tears of their ancestors.” “They will remember when we refuse to fight. The attacks are still coming.” He gestured to some of the many puckered marks that scored his chest. “They just never reach the New Earth Sphere.” “And when they breed the next generation? Should we just let them create mindless drones of ourselves? If we play our hand too soon, they will do exactly that. They will have autonomous killing machines following their bidding. And when that happens, there will be nothing to stop them from turning on us.” “And they have that power?” “They have always had the ability, Gara. They just lacked the essential elements to complete the process. And now that they have my blood…” “They can harness its unique abilities for their own goals.” “And when they can combine my genetic material with their science, they will have no need of the tora.” Javen stopped pacing, his back to his mate as horror filled his

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voice. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if wanting to shield himself from the knowledge he possessed, yet knowing there was no going back. Truth revealed was knowledge that could not be denied. “They will do away with the bindings and then our people, the Winged Pairs, will be no more.” “And can we stop them?” Gara demanded, gripping his mate’s arms, pulling him to rest back against his chest. “They have my blood, Gara. Our end is inevitable.” “Then there is only one thing we can do, my Moon Dragon.” Gara purred deeply in his chest, sending out the soothing vibrations and warmth he so easily generated, warming the heart of his ryuu. “We must organize and leave this place.” “Where?” Javen acquiesced without an argument, trusting his mate in this. Controlled knowledge was Gara’s area of expertise, the ability to make quick and proper decisions based on fact, the thrill of action and adventure -- these were the territories of the tora. It was their strength -- their adventurousness and their keen love of life. The ryuu were the control element, the one thing that kept them informed and from being swallowed whole by their schemes. Home. That ghostly female voice ran through Javen’s mind, making him shake his head to rid himself of such fancies. Now was not the time. “We have passed several uncharted planets in our explorations, my Moon Dragon,” he soothed, rocking from side to side, relaxing as he felt the tension in his dragon abate. “We only need find one. Their reach is not as far as they would like, and we can be light-years away from them before they even realize we are gone.” “And the rest of our people?” They will follow where you lead, Imperious One. The voice seemed to taunt him. “When we find what we need to survive, we will send for them, bring them with us.” “And this trick of evolution fate has dealt me, my heart?” It is ordained.

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“We will see how it affects the others. As a rule, whatever happens, happens to the Imperial first, and the others follow at a lesser degree.” Those words froze Javen in his mate’s arms. Were those not the same words of that incessant voice in his head? Maybe they were not the product of stress and a longing to be truly free. Maybe they were real. “I agree.” Javen finally sighed, his whole body trembling with what he found himself accepting. “In my… mind… I know it is bound to occur to the others, but… but in my heart I can only find fear because at this time it is happening to me.” “We will survive this,” Gara insisted, turning his mate around so he could stare up into his beautiful purple eyes. “And we will bring our people out.” Home. The voice sounded reassuring now. “My Lord,” Javen agreed, dropping to his knees and peering up at his mate through long, silver lashes. “No.” Gara gently cradled his mate’s face, feeing the scales shrink and return to their normal positions as Javen felt the safety and love that he generated. “It is you who lord over me, my Moon Dragon. It is for you that I will fight, kill, slaughter, and maim. I will do anything to keep you safe, my heart. For without you, I am nothing.” Javen dropped his head, his eyes filling with tears of emotion as the love his mate felt for him encompassed him like a blanket, covering him in so much warmth and affection that he had to sing. Tossing his head back, he began a trill of love and devotion, of satisfaction that filled the whole station with the growing light of his soul. And one by one, the other ryuujin lifted their heads and sang out in accord, their sounds filling the station with warmth and light. Javen sang of happiness, of love, and above all, he sang of hope, of green grass and crystal clear waters. Yes, he sang of hope, of a real home, of freedom.

Chapter 6 “What do you mean we’re not cleared for active duty?” Gara fought to hold his temper in check. He had assumed the white-coats would at least maintain some semblance of normalcy. This sudden change was more than odd -- it was positively suspicious. “We understand you have patrols, High Lord Chancellor,” Takada implored, staring at the growling tora, who was angrily lashing his tail back and forth in his office. “We must ensure that the Ryuu Major is fit for duty.” “He is as well as he should be, doctor, and the enemy waits for no one. Or have you all forgotten the devastation of the Phoenix Strand?” Gara could smell the man’s duplicity. It set his teeth on edge. “I recall what those fire bugs are capable of doing.” Takeda shuddered. “But with the anomalies in his blood work…” “What anomalies, doctor?” Gara asked, leaning forward. “If there is something wrong with my mate, then I am entitled to know.” He arched his eyebrow, wondering if this white-coat would be honest with him, or if he was, like the others -- despite his good family name -- a liar. “Nothing serious,” the doctor was quick to assure him. “But puzzling, nevertheless.” “Humph.” Gara snorted. It seemed it was a dark day for the name Takeda. “And we would like to have a sample from you, as well, High Lord Chancellor, just to rule out you as the source of the anomaly --” “I don’t think so.” Gara cut the doctor off, glad he had destroyed those cloths the other white-coat had used to swab his wounds. He wanted nothing of his left in the

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hands of these traitors. “I believe you have taken enough liberties with both me and my Wing Pair, doctor.” “Oh,” Takeda was quick to assure, “That was just a small misunderstanding between Giraldi and the Ryuu Major.” Takeda smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Wanting to see my mate naked?” Gara leaned over the desk, his bright red hair standing on end, his eyes spitting the fire that dwelled within his soul. “To ignore the very rules that govern my society?” His tail lashed from side to side, and Takeda swallowed, a bit of fear telling in his scent. “Giraldi is new,” Takeda explained, steepling his hands on his desk and doing his best to look concerned. “He knows better now.” “Then you see to it that he remains in his place, doctor, else I may have to permanently remove an eye to show him the seriousness of the situation,” Gara growled. “If that is all, then my mate and I should be cleared for release. I have plans and a working strategy, doctor. You impede my protection of your planet by keeping me here.” “Your men…” Takeda paused at the word before he continued. “Your warriors can go on without you, my Lord. You have a very impressive Second Wing whom I am sure is competent to take your place in battle.” “Yet it is not his responsibility to do so, doctor.” “Just one more day,” the doctor urged. “Surely one more day will do no harm?” There was a pleading quality in his voice, as if the doctor knew he was walking a very thin line at this point. “One more day, doctor.” Gara nodded, his mind racing with the implications of this new decision. Someone was going to be hurt, and he had to let the Winged Warriors know. It seemed the High Lord Chancellor and his Winged Pair would be the first to die… in these white-coats minds. “I must go and inform my… men.”

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Takeda stiffed a bit at the censure and emphasis the tora placed on that word, but nodded his agreement, putting the tension up to restlessness. These creatures were bred to fight, not to think too hard. Nodding his head, Gara turned and made his way out of the Wellness Center, his growling audible as he continued to the chambers below. His boots clicked on the metal floor as he circled around to the lower decks. As he walked, a clear aura of heat encircled him, a barely visible sign of his anger and frustration. His station uniform -- a long tunic and loose cotton pants tucked into the tops of his boots -- was barely able to withstand the heat he put out as his anger increased. The white-coats were making plans, moving forward far faster than he’d expected. It was time to call a council, and the announcement of this delay would offer the perfect opportunity to inform his people of what was going on. Then they could decide on a plan of action. He huffed, a small stream of steam escaping his nostrils as he entered the barracks below. As he moved toward the main hall, hundreds of torajin followed, drawn by the unmistakable anger they felt flowing from their leader. Once in the main hall, he sat upon a slightly raised dais, his eyes red as his hair, his chest heaving with the exertion of reining in his anger. Slowly, the halls began to fill, the other torajin heeding the silent call their High Lord had sent, all anxious and growing more so, feeding off the emotions their leader was emoting. When the hall had been packed, when torajin filled every inch of the floor, Gara raised his head. He looked over his people, noting the colors that ranged from the palest white to the darkest black, and knew them all as his. Their eyes represented every color of the Old Earth rainbow, all those anxious eyes marking and tracking his every move. They all waited in anticipation of what he would say, having never before seen their leader in such a state and without his Ryuu Major at his side. His anger was palpable. “My people,” he snarled, again, emphasizing that word. “It has come to my attention that we will be delayed in our hunt.”

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Grumbles of outrage followed this announcement, as the torajin were, if anything, always ready to do battle. By their very nature, they needed action. And if their way of life was to be subverted, they demanded to know the reason why. “It has come to the attention of the dirt-siders and the white-coats that there is an issue with my mate’s lifeblood.” Again, there was the murmuring of unease. To insult one’s bonded was to invite destruction, no matter how small the infraction. “They,” Gara spat, “want to do their testing and their prodding, but know this -something else is happening here.” Again, the murmurs of disquiet grew as Shinji moved to stand at the right of his Lord. “The High Lord said as much to me yester-cycle, as I have reported to you. And since then, I have discovered much.” “Then we should see to our privacy,” Gara snapped, cutting off his Second. He pointed toward the audience chamber entrance, and all turned toward the doors, toward the curious who had followed the angry Lord and his parade of torajin to this place where the dirt-siders had no business. “You.” Gara rose to his feet, his hair sparking as his anger grew. “You are not welcome here. Stay at your own peril.” Giraldi paused, his seemingly scientific interest in such a gathering falling flat as Gara stared directly at him. The few members of his team who had followed the curious doctor quickly backed up, awe in their eyes at their first view of the angered torajin. Plumes of steam and sparks filled the air, obscuring their clear view as the brightly colored warriors began to growl and hiss, their dark stripes blending in with the smoke their bodies emitted. “Um, I thought we could…” Giraldi trailed off. The last thing he needed was an enraged tora ripping him limb from limb because he’d followed from Takeda’s office. He knew the tora was up to something, and it seemed Takeda was disinclined to discover what. That left the chore up to him.

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“Venture where your kind are neither wanted nor desired?” Gara snapped. “Well, you have perfected the flaws in your spying technique, doctor, and now I believe it is time for you to leave.” “Spying --” “Human!” Gara roared, coming to his feet. “Do not test my patience!” Giraldi watched in horror as the sea of torajin shifted. It was a mythical parting, like some great wave of power gently forced the warriors aside, making a wide path straight to the blazing eyes and slashing claws that made the tora the more unstable of the Winged Warrior Pair. As his heart filled with dread, his scientific mind marveled that something so volatile had the ability to ground and control the larger, more dangerous ryuujin. Slowly, Gara began to move, his booted feet clicking softly on the audience chamber floor. He moved with a deadly, daunting grace that no other creature could duplicate. His whole form seemed to ignite, set aflame by the anger that filled his face as he moved closer to the humans who invaded his lair. “Human, you defy me and break the very laws and traditions of our people.” The calmer the tora became, the more that frightfully hot aura grew, until his whole body fairly glowed orange and red, the color of destructive flames. “I… I meant no offense…” Giraldi stumbled backwards, fear evident in his rapid breathing. “Your kind never does,” Gara growled. “You demanded my mate disrobe for our benefit. You demand life’s blood for your tests for our benefit. You interrupt the way of life we have established here on our station, a station to which we were banished because of your people, for our benefit. Now you tell me you invade our private sanctuary, spy on our words, and claim naïveté of these offenses, for our benefit?” At his words, the torajin let out a giant roar, en masse, eyes flashing, teeth gnashing, claws uncurling as their individual auras set the dark room ablaze with righteous anger.

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“You have been warned once, white-coat,” Gara snarled, stepping close enough to singe the man’s hair with his heat. He smiled as the doctor’s eyebrows began to smolder. The man looked around for his assistants, only to discover they had fled the area in fear. He looked back at the angered tora and suddenly understood that if these creatures so wished it, humankind would be at the bottom of the food chain. “You have been warned, yet you persist…” Gara reached for him, his glowing fingers trailing across the man’s chest, searing the material of his coat into a charred, blackened mess, scorching the flesh beneath. The stink of fear and burned human flesh was hot in his nose. “Oh, to see you roast…” “My Lord?” Gara’s head jerked up as he caught the soothing scent of cool patience and unending understanding -- Javen. He lifted his head, inhaling deeply. “You have need of me, my Lord?” The softly spoken words were followed by the cool presence of his mate. Javen stepped gracefully into the room, ignoring the cowering human who stood frozen in fear behind him. He looked up through his long, silver-white lashes, his purple eyes shining, glancing between his mate and the white-coated doctor who saw fit to push his remaining luck. “You called for me, my Lord. You call and I answer.” Javen reached out and placed a cool palm against his mate’s face, drawing away some of the oppressive heat that had begun to permeate the room. He dropped gracefully to his knees, his fingers trailing along his bonded’s magnificent body. He had been moving toward the Enclave where the ryuujin were set to meet with him when his tora’s power hit him like a fist. He could feel the hot anger, the dark frustration that was sending his mate into a killing frenzy. It was enough to drive the thoughts of turtles and soothing voices from his head. His tora needed him.

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Forgetting all semblance of proprietary, he took off through the metal halls, his clawed toes leaving scratches along their surfaces as he descended deeper into the station, toward the torajin’s private audience chamber. Only once had he been there before, but the growing need to rend and tear he felt in his mate lent his feet wings as he raced along. He had to reach his Gara before it was too late, before his temper got the best of him and he did irreparable damage to their standing and their plans. Breathless, he’s arrived just in time, as his mate’s aura glowed red with the need to terrorize his prey before the slaughter began. It was this very nature that gave the ryuujin the ability to drop their shields of propriety and descend into their raw, carnal natures. Fueled by the violent emotions their torajin emoted, they descended into battle, throwing ice and water at the Phoenix Strand, killing the fire-producing bugs on contact and reveling in the kill. But now… this was neither the time nor the place to allow his bonded to descend into the berserker emotions that would cause all the torajin to slaughter every dirt-sider on the station. He had to exercise control… for the both of them. “My Ryuu Major,” Gara breathed, feeling calm fill him as he released the doctor to caress the side of his mate’s face, to touch his hair, to breathe in their combined scents. Javen looked left and right, over the sea of torajin, and watched as they all bowed, showing respect for their leader’s bonded. Looking back at his mate, Javen again smiled, blushing a bit as he felt the anger in his mate turn to a burning drive of a different kind. “Leave,” Gara snapped, tearing himself away from that tempting gaze to glare at the white-coat. “Leave this place and say a prayer to your god of choice that you never cross paths with me again.” The stunned doctor turned and raced away, abandoning dignity in his flight for life. He had been granted a reprieve, but now he had new insights into the horror and

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danger these creatures could represent. And all this time, he had been worried about the dragons.

*** “My Lord,” Javen repeated, drawing his mate’s full attention. Slowly, he shook his loose hair around his shoulders, exposing the small, pale horns that his hair generally hid. The sight of the pale peaks caused Gara to zero in on his mate, his red aura diminishing but not leaving altogether. “To whom do you belong?” Gara growled, losing himself in the tora’s berserker nature. “To whom do you belong?” “To you, High Lord,” Javen stated, his eyes low and not challenging his bonded. “Say it again,” the tora snarled, his eyes glowing red as his lust took over his mind, washing away the red tide of anger that had swamped him before. “To you, High Lord Gara.” Javen spoke softly, shifting his posture, making his glowing horns more obvious, his subservience apparent in his every move. “Never forget it,” Gara growled, stepping forward and fisting his hand in the soft silver locks that flowed down his beloved’s body, framing it like a silver-white aura. “Never,” Javen agreed, bowing lower, looking up at his lover, licking his lips at how masterful and powerful he appeared. A jolt of pleasure shot through his loins as he peered up through his lashes. So hot and strong, and all his. Throwing back his head, Gara let out a triumphant roar, the sound echoing throughout the chamber, causing the other torajin to drop to their knees, abasing themselves before the male who had earned the right to lead them. There was not one tora there that Gara had not risked his life for. And when choosing the High Lord for this sector, Gara, after several days of non-stop, grueling fighting, had remained victorious over all the rest. Since then, he had sacrificed much, taken on much of the responsibility of dealing with the dirt-siders and white-coats so that they could remain in their closed

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society. It had been Gara who fought for them when their rights were impugned, who led the charge unflinchingly, whenever they took off for deep space and the Phoenix Strand that threatened the New Earth Sphere’s existence. Gara had done this all, this thankless job, without a complaint, taking his rightful anger and frustration out on them. They owed him this respect. And if his mate, the Ryuu Major, the most respected, revered, and oldest among the Ryuujin, chose to turn Gara’s bloodlust into mating lust, not one male would turn their eyes to the magnificent spectacle… though all would listen and scent, relishing the sharing of such power and energy. The coming together of two such as the Lead Winged Pair was mythical, a living yin-yang of spiritual proportions. Not one male chose to leave, all finding themselves blessed and fortunate to witness such an event. Gara looked down at his mate, his tail lazily whipping from side to side, his breathing deep and sensual as he scented his mate. He pulled at that lock of hair, tugging until Javen rose, looking him in the face, licking those perfect, pouty lips. “Mine,” Gara whispered. Almost faster than the eyes could see, he tore at the front of his robes, tossing the silken material aside. “Too much covering,” he snarled, losing control of himself as he read the desire in his mate’s eyes. Then the material began to fly as he extended his clawed hand and, while holding Javen in place, literally tore the material from his back. Javen hissed, his eyes flashing cool purple ice as he snarled, his hand flashing out to slash at his chest, parting the skin as well as the material of his tunic. “I am yours, High Lord,” Javen snarled. “But you must prove yourself worthy of me.” He rose to his feet, the shreds of his robes falling around him like falling sakura blossoms. “You are mine!” Gara snarled, his fangs lengthening as he absently tore the remains of his tunic from his body, exposing his heaving chest. Red trails of blood flowed freely from the wounds, and he was pleased, hoping the wounds would scar, another mark of possession for his mate.

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“Prove it,” Javen snapped, backing up a step before launching himself at his bonded. “Mine!” The roar echoed around the chamber, ringing through the station, and all who heard it shuddered; there was power undefined in that voice. He met Javen’s charge, catching the pale body that flew at him in a wave of long limbs and wild hair. “You will submit!” he bellowed, ducking a slashing, clawed hand, running his fingers over a scaled back as Javen flew past. But Javen halted his flight, turning on his heel and lashing out at Gara with a well-placed kick. Gara deflected the kick with his right arm, the left reaching out to snag his mate’s supporting leg, trying to jerk him off his feet. But Javen leapt into the air, letting his body turn horizontal, spinning around, jerking his leg free, landing in a crouch at Gara’s feet. “Where you belong.” Gara bent at the knees, taking up a stance, watching his mate’s cock grow engorged and swollen at the violence he was about to unleash. “Perfect.” With a trill of painful arousal, Javen leapt to his feet, slashing at his bonded, making him duck each swinging arm, forcing him away from the slightly raised altar at the end of the chamber, making him move into a defensive position. This worked until Gara caught one wildly swinging arm, using it to spin Javen until his back met Gara’s front. “Now we play,” Gara moaned, burying his face in Javen’s hair, sniffing at his neck before he used all his strength to shove him toward the altar. Caught off-guard, Javen stumbled forward, and before he could regain his balance, Gara was on him, shoving him forward again until his stomach connected with the front of the altar, his upper body flowing over it. “Try harder,” he snapped, but before he could retaliate, Gara began to emit a fierce heat.

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Instinctively, Javen’s body curled toward that delicious warmth, his coldblooded nature seeking to find heat at any cost. He shook his head to stave off the dazed confusion, but by then it was too late. Gara was upon him. “Mine!” Gara screamed, his hands gripping Javen’s waist, emitting even more heat, making the ryuu writhe in ecstasy as his body absorbed the warmth. “Mine!” Again Gara bellowed as he lifted his taller mate by the waist and tossed him up onto the furs that lined the altar, the seat of the High Lord. Javen twisted his head, looking over his shoulder at his lover, his purple eyes glittering, his body vibrating, his anal passage beginning to loosen and moisten without any manual touch. “Yes, weep for me,” Gara grated out, closing his eyes for the span of a heartbeat, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of his mate. Then his hands tore at his pants, leaving them to fall, shredded about his body, as he climbed onto the altar. “By right and by might!” he roared, throwing his head back, rearing above his mate. Javen made a move to rise up on all fours, to kick out at the invader, but Gara was prepared. He caught the leg and pulled backwards, forcing Javen’s chest to fall to the furs, leaving his ass upturned and exposed. Gara purred as he moved into position, spreading his mate’s legs, forging a place for himself, resting his throbbing cock in Javen’s ass crease. Then he dropped over Javen, covering him with his body as his tail wound in lazy circles behind him. He burrowed through the long, silky hair until he made contact with his mate’s cool skin. “Mine! My conquest,” he growled, rubbing his cock’s head along his mate’s shoulders and spine, marking him with his scent, then lazily humping at that upturned ass. Javen let out a low trill, his body wiggling in his bonded’s hold as he sought to press his ass up higher, to get more contact. He turned his head to one side, exposing his binding bite, and whimpered. “Tell me,” Gara demanded, letting his thick cockhead graze his mate’s anal opening, feeling the moisture that seeped out there.

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Javen glowered, but continued to grind against the hot, persistent cock. “Tell me!” Gara growled, pushing harder, using his hands to grip his mate’s hands and hold them fast to the furs. Javen hissed, jerking and bucking, but Gara held him tightly. “Tell me,” he whispered, stretching up to lap at his mate’s ears, then even higher to blow a puff of warm air on his exposed horns. He grunted as he allowed his aura to go red-hot, blazing, searing the body beneath his, making Javen groan in pure pleasure as he lost himself in the heat his bonded was emitting. “Tell me,” he shouted, forcing his head aside, his tongue lashing over the twin marks of the binding bite. He grazed his teeth over the mark teasingly, igniting a fire deep within Javen’s loins. His fully erect cock swung down between his legs. His anal opening was weeping with joy, while precum rolled from the rounded purple cap of his cock. He was in severe need. “Tell me,” Gara purred, nipping at the mark lightly. “Tell…” “Yours!” Javen screamed, hungry trills escaping from his throat, causing every tora there to swell to full erection. “Yours!” “By right, by might, by conquest!” Gara growled, then reared. He released one of Javen’s hands, leaning back so that the head of his cock was positioned directly at his hole. “By right, might, and conquest,” Javen agreed, reaching back to grip his mate’s hard cock, leading it to where he needed it the most, inviting Gara to sink himself home. As Gara slid deep into his mate’s body, he let out a victorious roar and thrust himself forward, sinking as deep as he could go, his head flashing down, his teeth piercing the skin, remarking the binding bites that had connected him with his mate’s soul.

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Javen threw back his head, his voice exploding in a multi-toned trill of ecstatic delight. His bonded was filling him. His bonded was completing him. His bonded was with him. His bonded was worthy. His anal muscles clenched with fire, yet he didn’t care. Then all-too-brief pain burned into a deep, soothing, pleasurable heat that had him closing his eyes and reaching around to fist his own cock. Gara snarled, sinking both teeth and cock deeper into his mate’s body, claiming, possessing. He could smell the myriad of other torajin in the chamber, smell their heat, and thrilled that not one of them was alpha enough to attempt to take his mate away. His chest swelled as he recalled that Javen made no plea to any of the others, hoping for a rescuer to run to, a more powerful mate to change his allegiance to. No one here was good enough to match his Ryuu. All for him! He pulled back, letting the cool walls of Javen’s inner chamber caress the heat of his cock, easing the almost painful burn before he thrust back into his silken paradise. He could feel the blood from his mate’s wounds smear along Javen’s back and hair, marking him even as the extreme heat he generated dried the blood. The scent would remain, marking his Ryuujin as taken. He bellowed as his mate’s muscles clenched tightly around his cock, holding him in place as wave after wave of heat flowed from him to his Moon Dragon, sustaining him, healing him of any damage incurred during their brief battle. “Mine, mine, mine!” he chanted, moving faster and faster as his mate trilled and screamed beneath him. Javen’s hair was a tangled blanket between him and his mate. He pumped his fist faster, feeling his anal muscles spasm, his chest burn with the heat and energy that filled him, whimpered as wave after wave of erotic fire swam through him. He arched his back, forcing his bonded deeper into his body, mourning his retreat and trilling his delight as he returned.

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This was his home. This is where he belonged. This was what he was created for. Then Gara released his arm and wrapped himself around his mate more fully. With one quick tug upwards, Javen was sitting on his bonded’s thighs, his cock sinking into him deeper than before as his strong arms held him to his heaving chest. Javen threw his head back, resting it on his bonded’s shoulders as a low thrumming began deep in his chest. His hand flew like lightning over his cock, precum spewing over his thighs, Gara’s arms, the cushioning furs, and he could not bring himself to care. His head rocked from side to side, back and forth. Gara’s strong thigh muscles tightened as the tora thrust upwards rapidly, his tail wrapping around his waist. “So good,” Gara muttered. “So sweet and good and mine!” “Yours!” Javen returned, hissing as his mate began to grind his cock deep into his ass, hitting all his prostate points, sending red-hot fire shooting behind his eyelids. “Moon Dragon!” Gara whimpered, his head going back as he felt the insane cool pleasure that drew the burning from his loins, spread along his spine. His ass clenched as he thrust forward, his tail tightening around his mate, as his body prepared for orgasmic release. “With me, beloved,” he managed to gasp, his fingers plucking at his mate’s nipples, stimulating this rarely touched area. Normally Javen’s scale pattern protected this area, dulling the nerves there, but now he was experiencing an insane sensitivity that made him shriek out his pleasure. Tugging at his mate’s nipples and thrusting deep, Gara sought to deliver to his mate the ultimate pleasure, to share himself, his soul, to reaffirm what they both knew, that they belonged to each other. “Yes!” Javen trilled out, one hand going back to lock into his mate’s fiery red mane, to tug his head back to expose the bonding bite. “Again, beloved!” he demanded. “Again!” At the demanding hands in his fiery mane, Gara lost all composure and with a roar, sank his teeth again into his mate’s neck.

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It was so good, the biting, the sweet taste of flesh and blood. Gara felt himself lose all control. His back stiffened as his hips drove him deeper than before within his mate. His balls retracted, pressing against the base of his shaft and his mate’s cool ass as his seed erupted from his body. “Gara!” Javen moaned, feeling the bite pierce his soul. He slammed himself down, his hand flying faster as spurt after spurt of cool seed exploded from his body. He felt his ass muscles wildly clench at Gara, riding out the climactic wave in time with his bonded. Almost at once he sank back into Gara’s heated grasp, feeling boneless, weightless, and at peace. Gara hugged him tighter, not wanting to leave the cool caverns of his mate’s body. He withdrew his teeth and gently lapped at the purple blood that flowed from the bite. He sent out a shaft of heat to the wound site, healing it over again, ensuring that the mark was red and visible to all who dared look upon his mate. “Mine,” he purred, slowly laying back and rolling to his side, never losing contact with his beloved Moon Dragon. “By right, and might, and conquest,” Javen almost shyly responded, ignoring the torajin who now shuffled from the room, their swollen cocks and their scents of hunger soon to be soothed by their own ryuujin. When all movement stopped, only one dared to pull up a fur and tug it over their steaming bodies. “May your heart be filled with cold,” Shinji breathed, covering his First before he took his own leave, his beautiful green-haired mate awaiting him. He had offered the traditional farewell and meant it from the bottom of his soul. May Gara’s heat always be filled with the cool touch and pale embrace of his beloved ryuu.

*** “Those things are dangerous!” Giraldi screamed as Takeda applied a burn salve to his chest. The cloth that had been burned into the wound had to be carefully

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removed before infection could set in. Luckily, it was a burn from a tora, which meant the wound would heal with very little visible scarring. “You followed a tiger to its lair, Giraldi. What did you think would happen?” “He attacked me!” “You broke his laws.” “I needed answers.” “You need your head examined. Gara is coming out of heat, Giraldi. He would be well within his rights to rip your head from your neck.” “He instigated a meeting!” “He was telling of the delay I orchestrated, you fool. Do you want to make the rest of them suspicious?” “He is already suspicious.” “He is leaving his heat cycle and is itching to fight. You have not been around here long enough to understand how these things work, Giraldi. I know what I’m doing. Manipulation is easy when you know your victim.” “I begin to wonder who is being manipulated,” Giraldi growled, wincing as Takeda placed the last sterile bandage on his burn. “I know you will make them question if you continue in this vein, doctor. I have gotten your blood samples, and I could have retrieved a sample from the tora had you not interfered. Now I will have to make nice with the whole lot of them to cover up for your bumbling.” Takeda ignored the man’s indignant look and continued. “You need to stick to what you do best, doctor -- playing with your microscopes and your genes. Complete your tests and let me be responsible for getting our specimens peacefully where we need them. Understand?” “I understand that you are a madman, Takeda.” “Well…” Takeda smirked, patting Giraldi gently over his wound. “I am not the one playing with fire.” He sprayed his hands with a liquid antibacterial and adjusted his glasses as he turned to exit the room. “Good day, doctor. I bid you a more productive morning.”

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Giraldi watched the other man leave, new plans filling his head. Let the old man ignore his warnings. He had plans of his own to make. The survival of his people made it necessary.

Chapter 7 “Tell us more, Javen,” the Ryuu Minor said, flicking his long green hair at his friend as they both settled into the steaming heat of the Ryuujin Enclave. Just as the tora had their own meeting place, the Ryuujin had their own place of gathering, a place where they could exchange collected knowledge and relax the rigid set of behaviors they themselves practiced. After leaving his mate sated and asleep in their rooms, Javen had gathered a clean robe and his brushes, and made his way to the enclave, the memories of the voice driving him onward. Along the way, several other ryuujin picked up the scent of their leader and followed, curious about what their Imperial One had to say about the change they felt in his aura. Now a small gathering of the ryuujin had commenced. A riot of color filled the steamy room as the dragons nestled close to one another, the cool, earthy tones of their hair blending to look like an artist’s rendition of a gently rolling wave. Smiling, Javen lifted one foot, stretching out his five clawed toes and twisting his delicate ankles, releasing the tension of not only being locked down on the space station, but of not being able to transform into his larger, more menacing form. He smiled as he saw his friend Mizuki push his green hair back from his face and stretch out his own four clawed toes, seeking to ease the same tension from not being able to transform. Mizuki sat up and again flipped his hair, exposing the set of small jade horns that were usually hidden in his hair bindings. Mizuki was rather vain about his hair, being one of the few jade-colored Celestial Dragons created. Most ryuujin were Earth Dragons, created to help symbolically cleanse and deepen the man-made bodies of water that the New Earth Sphere humans were so proud of.

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“It will soon be time to leave this place.” Javen’s words were soft yet sure. He knew that the turtle and the voice spoke true. There was a place for them, a home. They need only to seek it. “The white-coats will attempt to have Gara and I sent dirt-side soon. This is one of the reasons for our delay in returning to space.” “And I thought it was a good, extra long heat cycle.” Mizuki giggled, smiling at his silver-haired friend. “There are changes occurring in me,” Javen sighed, rolling his eyes at his friend’s playfulness. “Changes that will, if my theories --” and the voices, he thought, “-- are correct, will occur in you as well.” “Yes,” a blue-haired ryuu agreed. “It is and always has been thus. First the Imperial, then the Celestial, then the rest of us.” The smile froze on Mizuki’s face at that. “What changes?” he asked, sure that whatever misfortune befell his friend was about to land, unwanted, in his lap. His sapphire eyes zeroed in on his friend. “Well, for one, I can feel Gara better… deeper.” The others nodded. That explained how Javen had arrived in time to prevent Gara from the righteous slaughter of that invading white-coat. There would have been lamentation and incrimination, and a whole host of dirt-siders there to investigate, even though the white-coat had flouted the rules. “What else?” Mizuki asked. “That doesn’t sound too bad. It sounds very helpful, a way to keep better track of our torajin.” “I have to draw more upon Gara’s energy,” Javen sighed. “Not that he doesn’t have enough to spare, it’s just different from normal, from what I need to maintain my internal balance.” “Well, you did raise that cub correctly, though some of us wondered where you found the patience,” another pale-haired ryuu chuckled. “I remember him escaping your lair back on New Earth Sphere… in the center… and being discovered examining the white-coats in their showers, poking at the frightened newcomers, trying to discover why they had no scales, stripes, or tails.”

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The others chuckled at the memory, recalling other difficulties in rearing their own torajin among humans, and how their insatiable curiosity often led them to go where they were neither wanted nor needed. “But he turned out strong and sure, Javen. He is a testament to your patience and understanding.” “And he treasures you as if you were a fine and rare jewel,” Mizuki teased, liking the fact that the small praise brought a smile to Javen’s lips. The serious Imperial Dragon was generally too busy or concerned to smile much. He had not only the responsibility of caring for his own mate, but the added duties of seeing to his fellow Ryuujin, seeing to their happiness and organizing information for them all. “Gara is a delight,” he purred. “As Shinji told me after your display of mating prowess in the audience chambers,” Mizuki added, delighting in the blush that stole across Javen’s cheeks. It was unlike the Ryuu Major to show much emotion, and it alternately pleased and worried Mizuki. “That display was… unintended,” Javen sighed. “But all your torajin looked away, no matter how tempted they were to look. You reared wonderful mates.” Javen felt the thrum of proud dragons basking in the shared praise. “So, is there a reason why these changes are happening?” Mizuki asked, suddenly feeling dread deep within his chest. “I think…” Javen paused, lifting his head and scenting the air. “I think that my senses are more acute, and that we are not alone.” Immediately, the ryuujin dove for their robes, their naked flesh glistening in the steam that still hid them from human view. A low tone of anger vibrated the rooms as their privacy was breached. Javen stood in the lead, helping others to dress and pull their hair back as footsteps drew near. “They wouldn’t dare!” A horrified Mizuki helped a few slow dressers don their robes. “They couldn’t possibly --”

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Javen held up a hand, and for a second eerie silence filled the enclave. At a nod of his head, dragons silently dispersed, looking like so many water colored butterflies, and, with their cool toned hair and their long trailing robes, fluttered out of view. Only Mizuki and Javen were left, adjusting the fit of their robes before the footsteps paused outside the enclave doors. There was a tentative knock, and the voice they both dreaded hearing called out. “Ryuu Major,” Giraldi began. “If it’s not too much of an inconvenience, may I have a word with you?” “Insolent dirt-side serpent,” Mizuki growled, stepping up to the door and jerking it open with a snap of his wrist. “What do you here, human?” he snapped, the coldness in his voice matched by the coldness of his soul as the air around them cleared. “Your kind are not welcome in the enclave.” “I mean no offense…” “But offense you continuously give,” Javen snapped, moving to Mizuki’s side and easing the smaller dragon behind him. “Look, I mean no disrespect, but I was concerned about you.” “Then I shall pass your concerns on to my mate,” Javen decided, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at the doctor. “No…” Giraldi stammered, then recovered himself. Stepping closer to Javen he whispered, “I have just received orders --” “Yes,” Javen spoke softly, his eyes cutting to Mizuki, silently telling the other dragon to pay attention, before he turned back to Giraldi. “They want to send you back to New Earth Sphere, back dirt-side.” The doctor made it sound more menacing than the threat already was. “But… but why?” Javen stammered, his eyes going wide in feigned shock. “Because… because…” Giraldi thought quickly for a reason, and finally came up with one. It was far-fetched, but what did these creatures know about their work and motivations anyway? “Because the High Lord refused to give a sample. Takeda is going to request that you are both brought dirt-side for… for testing. They want to ensure that

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your disorder is not contagious, or if it comes from your mate… or if it is some space sickness.” He grinned up comfortingly at the Ryuu, who should not be afraid for his life. “What is wrong with me, doctor?” he asked, his eyes going wide as he fought the urge to roll those purple orbs at the man’s stupidity. “Am I… sick?” “I wouldn’t say that, per se…” “Am I dying?” he gasped, lurching back and placing his hand upon his chest, as if he suddenly felt a great pain. “No… I mean…” “I am dying, and I am killing my mate! Is that what you’re telling me?” Javen whimpered before throwing back his head and trilling out in supposed angst. Mizuki turned his head, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he reached to comfort his friend. “No!” The doctor was now shouting. “I said nothing of the sort!” “I am a danger to all! I must be! You are sending me dirt-side for decontamination! I am dying and killing my lord!” He threw back his head and trilled louder, the tones blending sadly one into the other, until the mournful sound was relayed all over the station. Giraldi, his eyes wide in shock, now wondered what he was going to do to get himself out of this mess. He only wanted to discover what these creatures knew, still convinced that they understood more than what Takeda gave them credit for. That he used a somewhat stupid plan had never occurred to him. By now, Mizuki was cradling his friend in his arms, desperately trying to disguise his laughter as frantic tears. “We must go and inform the High Lord,” Mizuki wailed, his grief as contrived as Giraldi’s tale. “He will know what to do!” Then he, too, threw his head back and trilled. Before the doctor could blink, there came a great pounding of feet, and tora Shinji arrived at the door. “My Small One.” He moved cautiously into the room, his

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eyes taking in the ryuu’s loose hair and their uninvited guest. “Doctor. You trespass yet again.” “Nothing like that,” the doctor argued, somewhat relieved that the fiery red Gara had not shown up, but still a bit taken aback by the demeanor of the Second Wing. “My Lord,” Mizuki called out, hugging Javen tighter. “The Ryuu Major is… is dying!” “What?” Shinji bellowed, his ebony hair standing on end as he moved toward his mate. The closer he drew, the calmer he became, reading the duplicity and humor in his mate’s stance. He decided to play along. “The doctor, he came all the way to the enclave to tell us that the Ryuu Major is dying… and quite possibly the High Lord as well. This is why we are not allowed to fly!” He caressed his mate, hoping the two Ryuujin knew what they were doing. “I must inform the High Lord!” Shinji gasped. “And they are going to be sent dirt-side and killed!” Mizuki wailed. “What?” Now Shinji turned toward the pale doctor, noting the fear that wafted from the man as he moved closer to the exit door. “I never said that,” the man stammered. “And no one dies on New Earth.” “And yet we have yet to hear of someone returning from there.” The doctor had no answer for that. Javen’s wailing became louder, stronger and Mizuki cried harder. “This… is… some mistake!” The doctor frantically breathed the words around the gasps he was making, his heart feeling as if it would pound through his chest any second. The bile-like taste of fear filled his mouth, and he felt the urge to vomit, though he knew he had better plot a way to get out of the mess he’d involved himself in. “I must go to the High Lord,” Shinji declared, turning and racing from the room, dragging Mizuki, who in turn dragged the trilling Javen behind him. “I think I just signed my own destruction order,” Giraldi whimpered, exiting the room and making his way toward the Wellness Center. “If Takeda doesn’t kill me after this, these unstable creatures will.” He felt a major headache coming on and wished

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once again that he were back on New Earth Sphere, testing the theories that came with the new samples from the Imperial Dragon. Once he discovered the key to using this anomaly to his benefit, the whole sphere could be quit of these creatures and the threat they now possessed.

Chapter 8 “You are a damn fool,” Takeda snarled, slumping in his chair and tossing his glasses to his desk. He ran his hands through his short black hair and glared at the peon he wished he had never contacted. “But I had to try to get a sample from the tora. If the Ryuu Major were to become afraid, then I am sure the tora would submit to our tests to protect his mate.” “And it never occurred to you that the Ryuujin are a sheltered and pliable race? We designed them to be so, Giraldi. They cannot function without the guidance of their toras. They depend on the blasted tigers for everything. And if you upset one, it will go running to its mate, who will then become enraged and go running toward you.” “But we need a sample from him, to determine if this new leap in evolution is coming from the torajin genes or from the ryuujin.” “And scaring the dragon into insensibility is the way to do it?” Takeda growled. “Giraldi, you are an ass.” Before he could say more, there came a pounding at the door. It slammed open, and in stalked a furious Gara. “What did you say to my mate?” “I… uh…” “The doctor is wrong, High Lord.” Takeda rose to his feet, holding his palms out before him to show that he was unarmed and therefore harmless. “He forgot protocol. There is nothing wrong with your mate.” “Too many times, Doctor Takeda,” Gara growled, “have I been insulted by this creature who chooses to hide behind ignorance.” “The doctor --” “And to threaten to send my mate dirt-side!”

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“No one is going dirt-side,” Takeda said, again running his hands through his hair. “No one is going dirt-side except for Doctor Giraldi.” “What?” Of all things, Giraldi had not expected to hear that. “Yes. The doctor has gotten his blood sample and will be continuing on to the New Earth Sphere.” The look he shot Giraldi was not nice. “And the need for my samples?” His eyes narrowed as he stared the doctor down. “There is no need, High Lord. I am sure that any anomalies are due to the Ryuu Major’s age and uniqueness of genetic character. If there is any reason for concern, we will bring it to your attention.” “And the ban on our flights?” “You are both free and clear, High Lord. I apologize for any inconvenience the delay has caused. You, after all, have the most important job in this sector protecting the people of New Earth Sphere.” Gara nodded once, glaring at Giraldi, a small puff of steam flowing from his left nostril before he rose to his full height. “Doctor.” He nodded to Takeda. “And you, white-coat,” he grumbled. “Do not let me see your face ever again, or you will wish that I was never generated.”

*** “Why?” Giraldi asked, his manner menacing as he faced his superior. “Why am I being sent back home?” “Easy,” Takeda sneered. “The only way to gain their trust again is to get rid of the thing that took their trust away in the first place. You played your hand too soon, Giraldi, and you don’t know what you are doing. You stirred up an anthill and made it a swarm.” “I did what I thought was right…” “That’s the problem, Giraldi.” Takeda sat in his chair, shaking his head. “The rest of the world does not think like you.” He picked up his glasses and placed them on his face. “This way, Giraldi, you may return home and start your research. Be sure to check

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your findings with the rest of the newly hatched ryuujin. I will acquire the tora sample here and send you my findings. If we are facing an evolutionary jump for all the winged warrior pairs, then we had best be ready to instigate their gradual disposal.” “And you have no problems with killing them all off? They are your family’s creations, Takeda, the one thing that has made your family so rich and respected.” “I take no pleasure in this, Giraldi, but it must be done.” He never noticed the shape walking past his door. “It has to be done, doctor, and our goals are the same. We both do this for our continued survival and the survival of our species.”

*** “Just as you feared,” Javen sighed as he settled down next to his mate. “They think they are so crafty. They think we will remain bound by their laws, by their way of thinking.” “So we know what we must do, and we shall start tomorrow.” Gara sighed as he ran his hands over his beloved Moon Dragon’s back, his fingers gently tracing the pale blue and purple scales that covered his skin like an elaborate tattoo. “Population control,” Javen sneered. “Control and fear. Will it always rule the way they think? We were created out of fear of the Phoenix Strand, something beyond their control. And when our forefathers had no interest in protecting them, they engineered another control agent into our makeup. And when we naturally evolve, slipping that control they so benevolently granted us, they want to control our very existence, our life and death? This place may be a new home to them, Gara, but it will never be a safe haven for our kind.” “And if they have their way,” Gara agreed, “we will be the last of the free thinkers. If they retrieve a sample of my genetic material…” “That will not happen,” Javen assured his bonded. “And if they attempt this thing with your blood?” “They will fail, Gara. It takes two -- the both of us, a mated evolved Winged Pair -- for them to create even the simplest of successes. What they have is a sample that they

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will attempt to use to force this evolution in other ryuujin. And it will fail. They never realized that we don’t evolve on our own; it is the torajin who force our evolution.” “And if they have no evidence of evolution in the torajin…” “They will not seek to develop it. They will concentrate, as they always have, on the ryuujin. It is the very agent of their control that will lead to their plans failing. And if they don’t allow themselves to be enlightened by the lesson we will force down their throats, they will be the devices of their own destruction.” “And once we find our home,” Gara continued, “we can come back as many times as need be to retrieve any like-minded Winged Pairs, Javen. We will offer them a real home… real freedom.” “And our home is out there.” Javen’s mind filled with bright lights and the sound of that female voice urging him, forcing him to receive the message that would draw them across the universe. “It is prepared, and awaits our arrival.” He spoke with assurance of a zealot, but Gara knew it was just Javen, just the intensity he had when he was sure of an action. He snuggled down close to his ryuu, and Javen closed his eyes, learning a new trill, one that spoke of the harmonious existence that awaited them somewhere in the outer darkness, where the turtles played and the wind sang softly of freedom.

Chapter 9 The white-coated scientists and other human sundry gathered on the observation deck, eyes filled with wonder and fascination. This was something they only heard about in whispered conversation from those gifted with the opportunity to travel to the space stations and observe this phenomenon. In pairs, the colorful Ryuujin seemed to float to their given positions, the silverhaired Ryuu Major in the lead. Though heated, there was very little oxygen content in the huge launch bay that the ryuujin easily moved through. The few allowed to watch could only make out the brilliantly cool-colored hair and matching scale patterns, their pale bodies obscured through the thick colored glass that protected the humans from the ravages of space. This is the last time, Javen thought as he took his place as Ryuu Major and awaited his tora. This is the last time I will leave this place, wondering if death or destruction will be my reward for turning back the evil that threatens their sphere.

*** Giraldi waited by a smaller bay, his mind buzzing with the implications of all he had discovered. There wasn’t much time, as far as evolution went, for them to create something new to control the population of these beasts. If they ever decided to revolt, the carnage would be worse than anything the Phoenix Strand had ever done since they discovered New Earth Sphere. With that in mind, he boarded his shuttle, face twisting in fear and anger as he watched the beasts gather, watched as they prepared to take off into the outer black. The thought of them out there, hovering above his world -- it did not, could not ­ - make him feel safe.

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***

Gara inhaled the coldness of space, letting the frigid temperatures flow through his body to activate its natural defenses. A bright red aura surrounded him, making the air steam around him, then quickly dissipate. It was time… time to join his mate, time to put into effect the plan he and Shinji had developed. He looked neither left nor right as he approached his Moon Dragon. He watched as his mate closed his eyes and let the scales grow, producing the shielding that would protect his most vulnerable places, even as a massive, winged dragon. He walked to his mated one, ignoring the other torajin who followed his lead, looking neither left or right, just straight ahead at their mates, their ryuujin. He ran his hands over that long, pale body, gently caressing the few scars that had managed to develop as a result of well-placed or lucky stings by the Phoenix Strand, ensuring his mate was healthy and capable. He ran his hands over the now extra thick coating of scales along Javen’s abdomen and around his vulnerable neck. These changes were never noticed by the observing white-coats, as they had never seen his mate naked, nor could they get a clear view of his body through the treated glass. But to his eyes, the familiar body that he knew better than his own was changing. Slowly, he reached up to tangle his hands in the silver and blue ribbons that held his mate’s hair in its elaborate braid, the ribbons he’d placed there, binding Javen’s hair and letting others know that his ryuu was a bonded and mated dragon, and pulled. The delicate strands snapped, releasing their hold on the wild, untamed hair that now flowed around them in the lesser gravity of the launch bay. As his hair flowed freely, the small, pale, spiral horns that usually hid behind the fall of hair began to pulse and glow. Javen turned to look down at his mate, his purple eyes glowing brightly as his body began to transform.

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His face elongated, growing broad and long. His hair exploded around him in a silvery silken mane, the dainty horns of but moments ago spreading out, growing into massively wide appendages that seemed to emit a strange power of their own. His body seemed to waver, its solid form going malleable and stretching, becoming fluid and gently surrounding Gara. Then, all at once, Javen seemed to grow, faster than the human eye could follow, becoming a pale, fluid, winding thing that was quickly taking on a more familiar form. The natural cold of the ryuu touched the abundant heat of the tora, their powers closed for a second, before the cold began to draw in the heat, creating a pale steam that hid them both from view. There was a sudden loud clap, and the launching bay shook as lightning seemed to blast the very air around them. The smoke dissipated, leaving in its wake the massive form of a pale-scaled dragon. It glowed with power, from the multi-tiered horns on its head to the broad spade of a tail. Its limbs were small compared to the rest of its body, but each muscled appendage flexed in eagerness, its five-toed hands and feet different than those of its three- and four-toed brethren going through the same transformation behind him. His large, purple eyes scanned the bay, watching impassively as his brethren also took on their dragon forms, shaking the station with powerful claps of power as they merged with their torajin. Then the massive, winding body stretched. Its open mouth, filled with razor sharp fangs, opened wide in a silent cry of defiance as he stared at the station, almost as if he could feel the white-coats watching in fearful awe. He seemed to rise, to float toward the open bay, a glowing red ball tangled in the mane that encircled his head, right below his chin. There, nestled safely and thrumming a deep purr, lay his tora, emitting a powerful heat that allowed the cold-blooded ryuu to survive in space.

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“Are we ready?” Gara purred, lovingly caressing the hair that held and supported him, that drew from him essential heat and sent it flowing through his mate’s long, serpentine body. He received a soft trill of agreement. They were ready, ready for battle, ready for action, ready for freedom. “Then let us be on our way.” The sudden snap of the massive wings as they burst from Javen’s back was silent, yet no less impressive as they locked into place. Broad enough to obscure the view of the whole bay, the silver-scaled wings began to vibrate, moving the winged pair further away from the station and out into the deep black. Quickly, the others followed, their glowing, jewel-toned treasures beneath their necks. Multi-colored wings spread as they took off into space. The transformed ryuujin resembled a huge flock of brightly colored scaled birds as they sought out their enemy in space. Those in the station watched in awe as the Winged Warrior Pairs grew smaller, until they resembled so many brightly colored points of light in the darkness. They forced themselves to breathe as they witnessed a majesty they had only experienced in dream and conceptualized in lost legend. And some of them trembled in fear.

*** As his shuttle took off, Giraldi shook at the thought of those things running over his beloved planet. Now more than ever, he was sure they had to find a way to control these things, to develop a new breed free from independent thinking. Their way of life, their society, their very existence, depended on it.

Chapter 10 “Can you feel them, my Moon Dragon?” Gara asked, reaching up to stroke his mate along his chin. “We are closing in fast.” Javen trilled his agreement, his massive body undulating with the motions of his wings as they drew closer to their destiny. Gara felt the vibration and correctly read their intent as he sent out a mental call to his second. Shinji and Mizuki drew closer, their brilliant green shining enough to cut through the darkest of deep space. Together, they descended, aware that the white­ coats were monitoring them through deep space with their machinery, and dove straight for the coven of Phoenix Strand headed toward New Earth Sphere. The Phoenix Strand, so named for their linear pattern of motion, appeared to be brilliant trails of fire in space. But as they drew closer, it became apparent that each line was made up of no less than two hundred large, predatory bugs. In the early days of the New Earth Settlement, these creatures were unheard of. It was only when terraforming began and the rich scent of greenery drifted out into space that the settlement caught the attention of the ravenous bugs. They streaked toward the settlement, attacking at night, swiftly, silently, deadly, wiping out whole villages, carrying away precious livestock and raping the fields. The only things left in the wake of their destruction were scorched earth and the shell casings they shed as they grew immense and bloated on their feasting. It took several years for the humans of New Earth to capture a Phoenix alive, and when they did they were horrified by what they were able to discover before that lone insect managed to place a call to the members of its coven. The scientists were able to escape to some caves they’d discovered in earlier explorations, the only place they could hide from the intelligent bugs. It was there, in

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these caves below all things, that they discovered the graves, the final remains of the creatures that had once inhabited this planet, and the ancient form of kanji that covered the walls. There the scientists discovered that the ryuujin, and later the torajin, were the only creatures with the power to drive the beasts back. With their recovered equipment, the scientists created the beasts of legend that could protect them. And woe to the Phoenix Strand, for their scorching hot fire was no match for the icy cold resolve of the paired ryuujin and the frigid blasts it was able to reproduce at will. They drove the Phoenix Strand back to space, and soon the humans created stations, stationing their protectors out into space. Here, in the safety of the deep black, the new battles were engaged. And it was here that the tentacled firebugs were the most dangerous. Javen dove toward the end of one linear formation, knowing from past and painful experience not to attack in the more easily accessible middle. The strand of fire would break, creating two smaller, more dangerous whips. As they drew close enough to see the seventeen pairs of eyes on each of the bugs’ rounded heads, Javen opened his mouth and let out a burst of frigid ice. The first bug’s four thin legs spread wide in its shock as it was slowly frozen alive. The others in the Strand quickly turned, trying to encircle the attacker and destroy it before the Strand lost cohesion. At the same time, Mizuki was a bright green spark, attacking the other end, creating confusion. In addition, the sharp trills -- the instructions Javen was sending out to the ryuujin -- interrupted the shrill clicks and screeches the Phoenix Strand used to communicate. This helped disrupt the actions of the Strand, forcing them to break formation and attack the multi-colored horde descending upon them individually. Circling his large body around the bug Javen had identified as the leader, he released a powerful burst of ice, tearing off one set of the bug’s dual sets of wings. It was the filament between the tough tendons in the wings that the ryuujin used to create their colorful robes.

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Shaking off the pain, the bug turned its body, lashing out with its spiked tail, striking a glancing blow to Javen’s side. “Steady,” Gara purred, sending a burst of pure blue flame toward the wound, cauterizing it before the cold of space could affect his Moon Dragon’s internal economy. Twining his body about the creature, Javen managed to disorient it enough to send it skittering away from the rest of its strand, isolating it. Javen’s claws ripped out at the bug, tearing along its side, enraging it before sending it spinning toward the strand, sending it crashing into its own kind. The other ryuujin were like colorful birds of prey, encircling and tearing into the bugs. Mizuki was a flashing light at Javen’s side, repeating the same procedures, sending his bug skittering into its own kind, herding them into a certain sector. Soon, the other ryuujin were doing the same thing, herding the bugs, segregating the most powerful, drawing their anger to the surface until they made black space glow red. Then, as Javen chased after a straggler, the worst happened. A new, smaller strand erupted from the night sky, trying to encircle the fighting ryuujin. Javen gave a warning trill, twisting his body to face the attack head-on. But the others, not as quick to receive the warning, were slower turning around. The first wave struck Javen in his shoulder, tearing a silent cry of pain from the ryuu as he brought his body up to circle around, protecting his wounded side until Gara could manage cauterizations. Quickly Mizuki flew into play, striking out at the new strand as it began to collapse onto the Ryuu Major. Screaming a trill of fear and anger, he dove into the center of the strand just as they tightened their grip on their circle formation. The others, feeling the agonized trill, turned their backs on the scattered strand and leapt to protect their leaders. In the ensuing chaos, the broken strand moved to attack the rear, slowing down the flight of the ryuujin as they attempted to defend themselves. Javen and Mizuki, bolstered by the energy put out by their torajin, attacked with slashing claws and freezing cold breath. Spinning and twirling, they went after the bugs

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in twos and threes, trying desperately to keep their Winged Warrior pairs from having to break off their own attack for them. Silken wings littered the dark of space as the bodies twisted and lurched. “Hang in there,” Gara urged his mate, sending out his healing flames, cauterizing and sealing wounds and gashes. Shinji was doing the same, his anger growing at the meaningless attacks by the strand. The only thing that kept him from berserker mode was the fact that he had to remain calm to heal his mate. Faster and faster the colors fluttered, the coldly beautiful dragons and the brightly glowing bugs leaving streaks of bright colors in space. The two fighting factions drifted further and further apart, the violence stunning, the beauty of the merging colors a tangible juxtaposition to the death that was sure to follow. Back in the station, the white-coats watched their screens as the streaks of heat moved violently. The only way they could tell the difference between the bugs and their warriors was the length and girth of the heat signatures they used for tracking. They watched in horror as seemingly hundreds of the small blips converged on two of the larger ones. The larger blips were lost, indistinguishable from the smaller beeps that moved onto the original heat mass. The two lone blips that strove to keep the invading horde from the heart of the battle had vanished off the screen. Soon the remaining smaller blips were wiped out, and the large masses solemnly returned to the launch bay. As the first colorful form landed, it let out a tremendous trill, a wail of pain and grief, a funeral dirge that was taken up by all the comrades in arms, the sound vibrating so loud it almost could be heard in space. The Ryuu Major, the Ryuu Minor, the Second Wing and the High Lord Chancellor had all disappeared.

Chapter 11 Takeda cursed as he threw his charts across the room. His plans, his discovery… they were all lost to him now. “Giraldi had better succeed,” he snarled, kicking over a paper shredder and throwing his glasses across the room. “How dare those beasts go and get themselves killed? How dare they thwart my plans?” Takeda was so angry he was shaking, his heart racing, his eyes narrowed in disgust. It was if the fates had conspired… No. This turn of events was too convenient, too arranged. The loss of the High Lord and the Ryuu Major? No. That was too easy, too neat. Were the creatures able to divine more than he’d originally thought? Was there any way to find out? He reclaimed his seat, steepling his fingers as he began to lose himself in thought. How had the creatures been able to discover the alterations that had evolved within their bodies? He doubted they had enough self-knowledge, other than immediate wounds and their pitiful history, to even discover the change. Maybe it had been that fool Giraldi who gave them suspicions that they had somehow followed up on? Was there any way to discover the truth? Turning to a nearby computer terminal, the doctor called up the visual heat signatures of the battle in which the Winged Pairs had lost their exalted leaders. He watched as the Phoenix Strand whipped around, engaging the two who broke off from their original assault to protect their warriors. He rewound it and watched again and again until a subtle pattern began to emerge. Everyone knew that the bugs communicated through a series of clicks and whirls, a different frequency of vibration than the Ryuujin themselves used. But instead

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of moving into the kill, the large heat mass known to be the High Lord and his Ryuujin major seemed to toy with a certain bug, herding it away… giving it time to call for help. Takeda shook his head, not believing what his brain was telling him. Even if this battle had been contrived, there was no way the winged pair could have moved away from the battle without being detected. Without a heat source, the cold-blooded Ryuujin would lapse into a dormant state or even die. And there would always be heat unless the torajin were killed. Takeda sat back in his chair, wondering what this possible ruse meant. The other winged pairs had returned and were obviously in mourning for the lost two. And even if this was some sort of misplaced escape attempt, where would they go? There was nothing out in the deep black of space, nothing save the origins of the Phoenix Strand and… and what? Having no answers, the doctor pushed away from his computer terminal and began to make plans. Giraldi had to succeed in his manipulations, with or without the High Lord. They could always substitute another tora to ensure their findings were correct. In the meantime, he would set guards and place a team of scientists here on a semi-permanent basis. He would cover every base, every eventuality. If these creatures decided to break off, to form a colony somewhere, then nothing in this new universe, nothing would be able to stop them.

*** Javen and Gara floated in the silence of deep space. It had been a calculated risk, but one they had been willing to take. It was unexpected that Mizuki and Shinji would travel with them, but the winged pair were leery of what could happen to them, as Mizuki was a celestial Dragon and would be watched closely for the next evolutionary phase. So they drifted, Gara putting out only enough life-giving heat to sustain his dragon… and the one thing they fought so hard to protect.

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My Moon Dragon, Gara purred, wrapping himself tighter in the silken strands of hair that held him safely under the chin of his beloved. My tora, came the low response, the voice weak but clear in Gara’s mind. This was yet another way this new phase benefited them both, the ability to communicate without vibrations, trills, or words. Not long now, Gara assured the still Ryuu, knowing they were risking his body going dormant and expelling the one thing they both would give their lives for. Because there, under the enhanced plating of Javen’s stomach, lay a new life. It was impossible, improbable, yet it was true. The anomaly wasn’t an anomaly at all. The high hormonal content in Javen’s blood, his warmer temperature, gave the scientists reason to believe his body was changing. He was developing chemical strands that only someone going through an almost puberty would have. Giraldi had wanted him nude to examine his body for physical proof of a developing uterus. Javen was pregnant, and his offspring, by design and by rights, would be able to become the first self-contained winged warrior, able to operate in space without the heat and protection of a bond partner. Self-reproduction meant the species had evolved on its own, and no longer needed the centers for their continued existence. They were a sentient, reproducing race. Heady for the pairs who had no hope of progeny, horrifying for the scientists who had developed the winged pairs in the first place. So they floated, drifting with just enough heat to maintain both Javen and the unborn child, with Mizuki and Shinji at their sides. And as they drifted, Javen closed his eyes, his mind filled with joyous singing and the sound of splashing water. You will soon be here, Imperious One, the female voice chanted, amusement in its tones. Soon you will reach us with your companions, and soon we will all be free, here in the Evergreen Lands. I, Otohime, will be your messenger and your guide. Soon, you will be among us, lost treasures of the Founding Two.

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There was a splash and the unmistakable shape of a turtle flowed in his mind as they drifted. And for once in all his long life, with his beloved bonded under his chin and his child growing beneath his heart, Javen felt… he felt like he was coming home.

Stephanie Burke Stephanie Burke, known to friends and readers as Flash, has a warped, twisted sense of humor, and she isn’t afraid to let it show. From pregnant men to six-foot cockroaches, she’s covered the gamut of the weird, the unusual, and the just plain strange. She has about five million books currently in publication with one house or another, all under the name of Stephanie Burke. She says she won’t use a pen name -she’d have to learn how to spell it. Too much like work. Visit her website at www.theflashcat.net and be sure to join Flash’s “Flame Keeper” loop at Yahoo Groups: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FlameKeeper/join.