>>>>>>>>>>

"I have requested leave," he said. "We'll go to a rest planet. There's nothing there but a base and some beaches. We'll have some time, you'll be out of danger. We'll be together. No one can hurt you there. I won't let anyone hurt you."

He was as good as his word. Within a week his shuttle landed us on Rima, and from the little Imperial garrison a land roller took us a long way down the coast. There followed days of lazy loafing in the warm sun, wonderful lovemaking before the evening fire, dawn walks by the sea.

>>>>>>>>>>

Stars are cold and lonely. What a magical thing it is when a star becomes "the sun", and you can walk around freely on ground warmed by its rays. When I walked down the shuttle ramp to be greeted by sunshine on my face, I felt myself beginning to heal.

As the officers of the garrison attended to our requirements, they glanced at me with nothing but courtesy, perhaps wondering whether I was a new bride, a mistress who needed to be impressed, or somebody else's wife. It wouldn't occur to them that I was a captive Rebel being treated to just a few days' relief from what had become accustomed hostility! It felt at first as if they were ignoring me, but they weren't-- it's just that they weren't /guarding/ me, and that was the sort of attention I had become used to. With this refreshing anonymity, I might almost be a free person. I might almost be here under my own free will.

I had never seen Admiral Piett's face in sunlight. He was too pale, I observed dispassionately. Of course he would be, when all his time was spent in artificial light. I must be too pale as well. He looked at me, gauging my reaction to all this, and smiled at my obvious pleasure. His smile made my heart warm even more.

Imagine it. A whole planet of clean air and beaches, dedicated to nothing but the more leisurely conquests of high-ranking Imperial officers. Well, it was a small planet. Very small. When I saw the ocean I had the feeling of being near a waterfall. The horizon seemed very near. I had the feeling that the water must be draining over the far side. But it was a real, working ocean, with gently-rolling waves lapping a white beach. The sight of it wrung at my heart with old memories of other places, other beaches...

Nothing too painful. And my mind was very much on the present and the man by my side.

I wanted to get my feet into that water.

A trooper drove up in a huge, lumbering, muddy-wheeled land-roller, with a passenger compartment that looked like seats perched on long pipes and not much else. My first thought was: You're not getting me into that thing. "What is /that/?" I demanded.

"It's an XK-2400, ma'am," the soldier said, with obvious pride.

That was the first time anyone had called me 'ma'am' since my capture. I said, "Is that what we're riding in?"

"The seats are clean," he assured me. "We cover 'em up when we go wheeling."

"Oh," I said. That hadn't been what I was worried about. There was a low-hanging step for climbing up, but when I hesitated Piett picked me up by the waist and swung me up into a seat. It made me gasp with delight to be handled that way, to feel his hands on me with such casual roughness. So, I was not the only one whose spirits were lifting as suddenly as a bird taking flight, in this warm and sweet-smelling place! I watched him as he climbed up to sit next to me. He braced a gleaming boot against one of the bars, which seemed, now that I saw him do it, to have been put there for that purpose. "You've been in one of these before," I said.

The soldier offered, "I can get the speeder if you want."

"That's all right," I said.

Then he started off at medium-high speed over a pair of dirty ruts in the ground that had no right to be called a road, with the wheels finding every bump and dip and tossing me around appropriately.

Piett saw the problem and hauled me across his lap. I snuggled in, with his strong arms around me, and his foot now holding both of us steady. He turned his face to me, his mouth at my temple. Then the teeth-gritting ride became something a little different: I was comfortable and then some, and I decided for certain that repulsor technology must be banned. /This/ was the way transportation should be done. "Andries," I whispered, but I wasn't sure if he could hear me. The wind took my breath away.

It wasn't long before I could no longer see the garrison behind the hills, but it seemed we had gone over the short horizon at least twice before we stopped at a cabin and climbed down. It stood just at the edge of the beach, only twenty or thirty meters from the water.

The land-roller dumped off our baggage and accelerated away, leaving us alone, for all intents and purposes, in the universe. There was the cabin, with tall, succulent trees swaying above it, dunes of bluish grass surrounding it, and, only twenty meters away down the sandy slope, that glorious, tantalizing blue ocean. I looked at Piett, he looked at me, and I felt the moment: limitless, endless. I wondered how much time Piett had planned that we could spend in this place, but he hadn't volunteered it and I hadn't asked him. It might seem unusual to not want to know, but I truly didn't. As long as I didn't know-- I could pretend it was forever.

I wanted to kiss him briefly to thank him for this, but I ended up losing all sense of time and place again, standing in his arms being kissed as if such a thing would never be allowed again and we had to make the most of our last opportunity. I gave him my mouth and suggested all sorts of delights with the rest of me, delighting in his hands on my back, the warmth of his face blending with the warmth of the beating sun. I know that sun had moved by the time we parted. "Well, this is not getting us anywhere, is it?" he said. We still stood where the land-roller had deposited us, with our satchels at our feet. "You'd better do something, or you'll get sunburned."

What a pleasant little worry. How long had it been since I had to worry about something as nice as that?

"That sun seems to be moving as we speak," I said, shading my eyes to look up at it.

"It hasn't moved at all," he said.

"No," I said, "I'm sure it has--" then I realized what he meant. "The sun's position, relative to us, has changed," I said severely.

"The days are very short here," he said, smiling.

We looked at each other again. We had come down here to "rest and relax", in other words, have sex as often as humanly possible or more. But the best benefit was that simple wasting of time. Not every word must have deep meaning or serve a purpose. There was time to waste a few.

So we kissed again. Like old friends. Just as if we had every right.

Then I said, "We should go inside." I didn't say: because I have to use the facilities. I picked up my satchel. At the door of the cabin I set it down again, and held my arms away from my sides, the easier to be picked up. "Won't you carry me across the threshold?" I invited playfully.

He shook his head and picked up my satchel along with his own. "Another time," he said. "In a better place."

I followed him into the cabin, my mind in a whirl as to what that could mean.

It was a nice-enough little place. The interior was Imperial standard campout-- grey, hexagonal, waffled. A couple of beds, a galley, closets, and a view through the six-sided windows that was wonderful enough to make up for everything else. I went into the 'fresher and found an interesting surprise on the wall. Previous occupants had turned the back of the door into a message board with a truly charming theme. /Captain, you are the best, Alta/ said one. /Commander, I am yours to command, Miio/ said another. /Governor, thank you for the good times, Jen/ said one. I read through these little tributes, agreed with the general theme and began composing one of my own. There wasn't a single /Admiral, (clever compliment here)/ one up there yet, but I could take care of that! With the handy stylus some thoughtful lady had left on a ledge. And sign it with my real name-- Kiremm.

I went out in best of spirits, wearing the severe, very-decent bathing suit that Imperial Travel had provided me. Piett wasn't in the room; I looked about for him and discovered him outside, buttoning himself up after peeing on one of the trees.

I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep from shouting with laughter. That wonderful tradition. Marking his territory! That awful, boorish habit, practiced by men on every land since aeons gone-- possibly just to make women feel superior. It had to be put up with, just because it did; and I had been allowed to witness it, just once. My delight was beyond bounds. It made reality feel that much more real.

I waited a polite beat or two before going out. Piett came up the porch steps to meet me, and I was rewarded by his look of surprised admiration. I grinned and swayed my hips, then laughed and ran toward the water. "The ocean, Andries," I called back at him. "I have to put my feet in it, now! Change clothes and come down!"

"I will," he called, but followed me just the way he was.

The water was nicely bathtub-warm, and smelled fresh and salty. There was a good wind whipping my hair around, but it was a warm wind. Perfect. Perfect in every detail. I loved the water-- did Piett know that?

He followed me partway down the sand, and stood there watching me. In his tailored uniform and glossy boots he looked completely out of place against the sand, sun, swaying trees, drifting clouds in an azure sky-- and therefore highlighted for what he was. The sight gripped at my heart.

I had thought I couldn't wait to get in the water, so I had dived into the water; and now that desire was suddenly over and my attention was all back with him.

I slid back into the waves and turned over lengthwise a few times, coming to rest on the wet sand, arm over hip seductive-mermaid fashion, and laughed at him.

"Like the water, do you?" he commented.

"Join me," I said. "You must get out of those clothes. I spend most of my time with you trying to get you out of your clothes, don't I?" It made me smile, remembering our very first encounter, that now seemed years ago and yet still brand new. What had worked then would work again, and would be delightful here in the sun and wind. But he agreed with me, and turned to climb back up the short rise to the cabin.

I watched him go. He was just as good to watch from the back as from the front. You can tell, without needing to remove the clothes, who has muscle tone and who doesn't. Piett walked with authority and grace. And I smiled to myself.

There was little surf, and I saw no evidence of any change in tide. I lay down in a place where the water lapped at my body. I could have gone to sleep in the sun. It gave me a sense of well-being and made me drowsy.

"You can't do this very long," Piett's voice said.

I opened my eyes. He was back, having changed into white trunks and a shirt open at the neck, and I stared at him like a besotted idiot. He was absolutely beautiful. Looking this /ordinary/, he was even more beautiful, simply Man. Yes, just a man, like one who could be a friend of mine, or someone I met at a restaurant, or even one of the earnest, laid-back Rebel fliers or technicians whom until my capture I'd begun to think of as my family.

That's what we were now. Not a captor and a captive. Not an Imperial admiral and a Rebel prisoner brought up from the brig-- nothing like that. Just a man and a woman under the sun.

He knew it. I could tell. He had realized this long before, and rather than conferring it like yet another act of munificence, he allowed me to discover it on my own.

I loved him even more for that.

He demonstrated the change now, in a practical way. He dropped a couple of beach blankets on the sand, and produced a bottle of sunscreen. "You didn't listen to me before," he said severely. "You'll burn to a crisp in a very short time here." He knelt down and began rubbing the sweet-smelling lotion into my shoulders. "The days are short, but the sun is merciless."

Oh, his strong hands felt so good. I had been drowsy before, but now I was languid, and yet on fire not from the sun, and my heart swelling at the sweetness of this.

"Only a fourteen-hour day," he said. "The sun seems to move quickly."

I was falling fast. It took me a few moments to shift gears to thinking about the climate again. I murmured, "Really?"

"You get used to it." His words were a background for the movement of his hands. "You settle into a routine here. If we had anything to do, the short days would make it seem as if we had very little time, but we don't, so they'll seem endless, as if we have forever."

"Forever would be nice," I said. I had determined not to demand anything of him, and that was the closest I had gotten yet. It was accidental.

"Mmm," he agreed, just as thoughtlessly.

He took off his shirt and swam with me. We went out far enough for a good view of the curving beachline dotted with trees, the expanse of the ocean and blue sky. It was clear that we were the only human beings in the galaxy. By the time we swam back again, the sun was already sinking toward the horizon.

The sunset was spectacular. We rolled up in the beach blankets to watch it. Piett opened his legs and I sat between his thighs; he put his arms around me and I snuggled there, content in every possible way. The sky turned to streaks of orange and red on the horizon, with rich, glowing purple sky above us. Piett's hands moved to my breasts, turned hard and purposeful, crushing me against him, and I leaned back on his shoulder, turning my face to nuzzle my mouth under his chin, feeling his heartbeat under my lips.

His hands made me insane. My nipples turned hard inside the swimsuit, aching at the frustration of fabric between me and his teasing fingers. I had nothing to touch in return but his hands. I needed to move-- and when I did I was blindingly conscious of the hardness pressing into my back.

He held me still, holding me between his thighs, and continued the sweet torment of my breasts until I moaned.

When he could stand it no longer, he put me away from him a little, looking for some entrance to the swimsuit. It was behind my neck, a clever wire catch that had to be pinched a certain way. I realized what he wanted, and moved to show him, but he had already lost interest in that, deciding on something else instead. He turned me around and laid me down on my back on the blanket. Kneeling between my legs, he moved the crotch of my swimsuit aside with one hand, but instead of freeing himself in turn as I expected him to do, he merely pulled my hips up closer. "What?" I murmured in confusion. In that position I had to either lie passively, or hold myself half-sitting up. I lay still. His other hand was under my bottom, and keeping my swimsuit pulled aside he brought his mouth down on me.

I almost screamed. I tried to sit up, but his hands pressed me down, communicating his command to be still. I couldn't be still. I shuddered, as the intensity, the unbelievable intimacy, of what he was doing, overwhelmed me.

That was not so unusual a thing to be done-- but somehow I had never expected it of him. That was just /not/ him-- was it? But it was. And he did it well. He knew where I needed it, and he gave it to me with his lips and rough, exploring tongue. His fingers stroked me. I couldn't reach any part of him, but I needed so badly to touch; I crossed my hands over my belly, gripping them together for lack of anything else to do, bracing myself, hoping I would live through this.

His hand stroked me, the fingers of his other hand arranging my soft folds just the way they pleased him best. He moved back a little to look at me; then licked me, and again, and again. He sucked on me and pushed his fingers inside. I kept my teeth together. The urge to cry out was strong, but I wasn't sure what words needed to be said.

His breath warmed me. He ate me up, slowly, as if I were a delicious treat he wanted to savor. I managed not to move too much, but I was already murmuring nonsense under my breath.

Despite my bravado I was still a little afraid of him, not least because of how much I already loved him. We had lived through some things together, but in a way we were still strangers. I could scarcely bear the thought of him tasting me: like sampling a foreign delicacy. Did I please him?

I did. I knew it. Deep down, I knew it. I pressed the back of one hand to my mouth. Be still, woman, I told myself.

As if a timer had run out on my consciousness. I had protested, reasoned with myself, enough. At one moment not marked by any fanfare my mind simply went blank of all that foolishness, and I was just a woman, lying on my back on warm dry sand, looking at the stars twinkling above me, ripples of unaccustomed pleasure tightening my flesh-- the man kneeling over me, feasting on me like a monstrous beast, making love to me as if he were my devoted conquest. Let it be so, I whispered aloud, then hoped he hadn't heard me.

I felt his teeth. He stroked me with his teeth, the hard surface against the most sensitive part of my flesh-- deliberately, I thought, to let me know how much in his power I was. If he bit me, I would scream in agony. If he continued as he was, I would die of unbearable ecstasy, and all I could do was wait, breathing, quivering, for his decision. I was at his mercy as I had /never/ been before-- even when I had been in a holding cell in his ship where he could kill me by saying a word.

He was in tune with me. It was the most deliberate, coldblooded manipulation of my senses that I had ever experienced. He was feeling all my ecstasy, gauging it, bringing me to climax on purpose.

I knew what he wanted-- for me to give myself up right into his mouth. Insecurity made me bring my hand down to touch his hair, and he gripped my wrist and held it steadily.

I cried out, "Oh, sweet burning stars!"

Indeed, they were out, shining clearly, and I'd been watching them for what seemed like hours and not seeing them. And I came. I couldn't move-- my mind, my body was failing from overload, my loins exploding with unbearable heat, tingling shocks shooting through my limbs. Then slowly, slowly, relaxation flowing all through me like warm honey, from his mouth to my fingertips, clear down to my toes, and then I lay so still, just reveling in it, that I could have been taken for one dead.

Piett left me, rose up a little to watch me. His hand stayed there for another moment, soothing me with its presence. The look on his face almost frightened me, so deliberate. Almost offended me, as if I were in some clinic and he was the doctor, who had done some procedure to me and now waited to see whether it had taken well.

I tried to curl up; he wouldn't let me. He came up to lie full-length next to me.

"Do I smell of woman?" he wanted to know.

"Yes," I said.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"No," I said.

He laughed, stroking my hair back from my face. "I suppose you wouldn't think so."

"Andries," I said. "Oh, mercy--"

He must be dying of it-- he was as hard as stone. I could feel him against my leg, hot, straining against me, needing to be inside me. I couldn't find strength to move.

"The sand's already inviting itself up here," he said, half-rising to brush off the blanket, not that that would do any good. "I've never liked that sand idea." He went on talking as he picked me up like a child. I was quivering, exhausted as if I'd been running for hours. I put my arms around him, turned toward him to make myself easier to carry, but that was all I could find strength for. Up the porch steps he went, and into the dark interior of the cabin. At the door Piett stood me on my feet to brush me off. The catch at the back of my neck still frustrated him. "Can you open this insane thing?" he asked, suddenly angry, and yes, I lifted both arms and loosened the catch, and stripped out of the suit.

"Bed," I whispered.

"Shower," he said, but then didn't carry out that threat. He brushed my body off with my suit and his hands. "I said I didn't like sand in my bed."

I lay down on the bed, watching as Piett pulled off his shorts. I couldn't help gasping at sight of him and I wanted to touch him. He allowed that for only a moment, as it seemed only to make his agony worse, then he pushed me back on the bed and entered me without any formality.

The last time had been for me-- this time wasn't. This was hard and fast, the violent sort of pounding that men like, and it was over quickly. I didn't need any more. I was already walking a tight wire of arousal. I started to orgasm before he did. With rapture bursting through my body-- I was startled and pleased when he dropped his forehead to touch it to mine. His seed spurted into me, taking what was left of my strength, leaving complete peace behind it.

That intimate gesture had impressed me more than all the rest.

I held him so he wouldn't roll off me. Even when he wordlessly offered to relieve me of his weight, I wouldn't have it. I liked the feel of him crushing me beneath him. I liked the feel of his penis softening inside me, and I held very, very still.

"I don't believe this," I whispered.

"You're all right?" he wanted to know, concern in his voice.

"I'm so much more than all right," I said. "I'm more all right than I've been for months. Thank you for all this."

He breathed a laugh. "Sweetheart," he said, in a tone of reproof. "You know who is whose devoted servant-- here, at least."

"Yes," I said. "That's what I'm thanking you for."

But I was his despite what I said, and I smiled in the darkness.

"Go to sleep," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," I whispered. And in a little while I did go to sleep, comfortable in his arms.