Knight Squadron - Journey

For all the commotion, Jag and Jade remained still, watching the scene. Tao Che's cousin exploded one more time, and the reasons for the fuss came to light. There was another woman. Of course

"Courtly intrigue?" Jag suggested, leaning closer to speak softly into Jade's ear.

"Of the Hapsburg variety," she confirmed. "Although I suppose Kashmir is worse."

"Worse?"

Jade nodded. "There isn't intrigue there so much as..." She stopped, searching for the right word. "Sport."

"Sport." Jag repeated the word flatly, and couldn't help the bad feeling he had about encouraging her.

Her smile was dangerously teasing. "Yeah. If the Queen wanted you on Kashmir, you wouldn't have a choice. She'd just knock you on the head, drag you off to her cave, and..." Jade's voice trailed off.

Jag's mind worked, and he didn't need Jade to spell it out for him. "Barbaric," he remarked. He watched her face, and recognized that this was the response she'd expected. Of course he'd find it barbaric-he was a man, wasn't he? "Although it does have its appeal," he conceded.

Jade turned to him, her attention diverted fully away from the feuding couple. "Appeal?" she repeated, turning it into a question.

He shrugged, a minimal gesture. "It sounds barbaric, but any culture that holds one sex superior to the other is. I'll admit, to be used solely for..."

"Stop." Jade's voice was firm, and she held up a hand. "Just stop." But there was a smile tugging at her lips. "And I considered you the gentlemanly sort."

He gave her a cocky grin. "I am." He glanced away from her face. "I think it's safe to move now."

She followed his gaze. The ruckus and the responsible party had disappeared in the other direction, and Lady Clarissa could no longer be heard.

"Sure."

They came upon a side hall, and Jag paused at the threshold. "What do you think?" he asked.

Jade stared down the new corridor. It was short... only seven or eight meters... and the only light came from the lattice-worked window at the end, through which streamed silver-hued Hapsburg moonlight.

"There aren't any doors," she pointed out.

"No, but there's a connecting hall at the end."

"Where does it lead?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

The corridor was narrow, half the width of the main hall. Small alcoves every meter or so lined the passage, and those alcoves were not empty. Treasures captured from victims of the Wraith Raiders filled these alcoves. Jag hesitated in front of a stone sculpture that seemed vaguely familiar.

Jade smiled in recognition. "An angel," she said.

"A what?" He glanced from her to the sculpture, saw on her face and expression of softness that he recognized as remembrance.

"An angel. From the moons of Lago. Deep space pilots made them up, a fantasy to pass the time. The most beautiful creatures in the galaxy. There are stories about ships' systems going haywire and pilots crashing into the planets, to be found and nursed back to health by the angels."

"What did they want in return?"

"The pilots."

Silence fell between them, both of them studying the sculpture. Lithe, apparently clad only in a length of thin silk, the angel-where had he heard that before?-was carved in the galaxy's collective idea of beauty. Her hair seemed to flow down her back, and there was an expression of seduction on her face, as if in her cold stone existence she could take any man she wanted.

"Where did you learn that?"

"My father."

"Has he ever met one?"

Jade's smile was slightly bitter. "My mother, he claims."

Jag didn't tell her that he could see how General Jordan would believe that, if his daughter was any indication. He also didn't ask about the bitterness in her voice and the brief hardening on her eyes when she spoke of the ambassador.

They moved on. Further down the passageway, there was something far more unusual. An old stuffed boar, complete with wet-looking eyes glinting dangerously, coarse hair, tusks, and a snarl.

"I think we're getting closer," Jade whispered.

"I don't think he can hear you," Jag whispered back, earning himself a playful punch on the arm for his insolence. He glanced the few remaining meters to the end of the corridor, rubbing gamely at his arm. The intersecting hall was reflected in the window, and he caught a glimpse of another door. A set of double doors, wide and paneled. Jag tugged on Jade's hand. "I may have found it," he said to her.

"What are we waiting for?"

Both of them again grinning like troublesome children, they crept around the corner. Jag pushed down the tongue-like locking mechanism and put his weight into the door. In the uncanny silence, the door swinging open on squealing brass hinges startled both of them. Jade squeezed his hand, and then chuckled nervously.

"I'm jumpy," she said, unnecessarily.

Jag nodded. "I know." He pulled her closer. "Let's go in."

Jade followed him into the room. This room, too, was only minimally lit. Apparently, the royals were focusing their energy only where they expected guests to be. Shadows loomed and lurched as the two young pilots moved further. There seemed to be a sense of oppressiveness, and Jade moved even closer to him.

"Funny, no matter how old you get, dark rooms are still spooky," she commented.

"Especially dark rooms in unfamiliar palaces," he agreed.

"Lights up!" Jade paused. "Where's the light?"

Jag's laugh was soft. "I think it's manual. There's a switch near the door."

As he moved away, into the especially dark shadow to find the old-fashioned switch, the door slammed shut. The draft, he remembered, but that didn't keep him from jumping. Jade didn't yelp-his soft noise of surprise certainly didn't count as a yelp, did it? ...but she did jump, and he felt her hands on his arm.

"Spooky," she said finally.

Jag nodded solemn agreement, half-ashamed of himself, and reached for the bank of switches near the door. He picked at random.

A light somewhere in the far corner came on, pitifully inadequate. He tried again, and another light in another corner came on, this one to illuminate a rather nasty-looking feral cat, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to occupy the fur-hide smoking chair in front of it. Jag flicked the remaining three switches. Only dim lights met his effort.

"They don't use this room often," he ventured.

"Why would they?" Jade looked around. "I bet Tel'Ka never comes in here anymore," she murmured.

"Why not?"

For a fleeting moment, sadness filled her face. "This place would give Jacen nightmares."

Jag frowned. He didn't understand. What did the princess have to do with her brother? But he didn't ask; even he could sense her pain. He made a non-committal noise.

He saw the curiosity on her face as she looked around, the consideration in her eyes. The place, he consented, was quite gruesome. The animals... and parts of animals... were arranged in what someone obviously considered a charming manner. The room's furniture tended toward the more traditionally masculine: leather and dark wood, rich colors, and a noticeable absence of softness and bright accessories.

"I think," Jade began thoughtfully, "that this is the Prince's refuge."

"Would he hang his daughter's foes on the walls in here?" he questioned.

As if suddenly remembering she was supposed to be having fun, Jade looked back at him and blinked. Then she smiled, slow and wide.

"Maybe," she said, an enigmatic expression on her face. She turned slowly, her brown gaze raking over the furniture and grisly trophies of the room. Her eyes settled on the dark, heavy-looking wooden door across the room. She nodded to it. "In there."

"Right behind you."

They crossed the floor, the heavy rug rendering their footsteps silent. Jade's skirts brushed against a hide-leather chair as she passed it, and the sound seemed impossibly loud in the deafening silence of the room. Jade didn't seem to notice... if anything, she looked more at ease now than she had in the banquet hall. He decided it must be him and forced himself to relax.

Jade reached the door, and slid it aside. She stepped in and Jag followed. The room was small... for the palace... and clearly a closet. It had the musty smell of old books and yellowing paper, leather and cloth undisturbed for a very long time. In the half-light, he could see Jade wrinkle her nose.

"And I thought it smelled bad out there."

He smiled slightly. "You always think the worst is behind you and it never is."

"Hmm." Jade looked around, then reached out to lay a palm on the wall to her left. She slid a hand along the wall, seeking the light switch. A natural assumption that the lights in here would be manual as well.

Something stirred in the darkness further into the closet. It moved, and there was the faint sound of rustling fur, then the click of claws on wood. Startled, Jade stepped back. Into him.

Reflexively, Jag's arms went out and closed around her. Ostensibly to keep her from falling, or to keep her from backing through him. Perhaps even to protect her, though from what he wasn't sure.

From somewhere in front of them, the thing moved again. Then Jag caught a glimpse of gray, and something small and furry rocketed past them, shooting out of the closet, through the trophy room, and into the hallway. It wasn't long before the rat-tat of claws on hardwood was no longer audible.

"I hope," Jade began quietly, "that it doesn't attack any of the guests." There wasn't even a hint of contrition on her voice. In fact, it sounded to Jag as if she were hoping for the exact opposite. If it did, he hoped they wouldn't be blamed.

"What was it?"

She hesitated. "Partially domesticated canine," she answered uncertainly. "It's not happy with Tao Che, I know that. And it's less pleased with the blond."

Jag frowned. "You could tell that?"

Jade shrugged. "Jacen may be the empathic one, but I'm not completely oblivious. Where're the lights, do you think?"

It occurred to Jag then that Jade had not moved from his grasp. She hadn't squirmed to get away, hadn't insisted he left her go. He also realized just how delicately made the gown was, how well it fit her. He became suddenly aware of the heat of her.

"Jag?"

His name floated up from the darkness and swam into his awareness as a question. He became dimly aware that she'd been speaking-doubtless something that again suggested that the former queen would take an interest in him-but he had not heard her. Not for the unfamiliar rushing sound in his ears, or the interesting impulses he felt.

With effort, he managed, "Hmm?"

"Feel something you like, Colonel?" There was a smile in her voice. Jade leaned back into him deliberately, and squirmed just enough to rub her backside against him. He tensed.

He'd never really been in a situation like this before, he admitted silently to himself. He felt as if he should know what to do... that he knew what to do, simply that it was taking his alcohol-slowed brain too much time to remember. He did know what to do if he ever found himself standing in a darkened closet with a beautiful woman in his arms, he was sure of it.

He blinked, and his brain finally cleared and kicked in. Yes, he knew. Having regained control of his higher mental functions, Jag Panzer did exactly what any hot-blooded man would do.

He turned her around and tightened one arm around her waist, pressing her closer to him. The other hand slipped up her back, beneath her hair, to cup her head. He dipped his face, bent her body back just slightly, and kissed her.

She didn't tense. He'd been half-expecting her body to go rigid against his, to feel her knee in an unfortunate way, and to be slapped when she finally escaped from his gasp. After all, what gave him the right?

Instead, her body softened, melded willingly against his. Her lips parted slightly. Her arms came up, snaked around his neck, and she curled her fingers in his hair. Greedily, she pulled him closer, deeper into the kiss.

She made a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh and stopped supporting herself. She swayed into him, held him tighter. His mouth shifted, and he caught her lower lip between his, but only long enough for them to draw a breath. Then he was back, kissing her with a fervor he was unaccustomed to, and walking her back. His forearm touched the wall, and she made another soft noise.

Jag pulled away to look at her. Her eyes came open slowly, and the dim light from the main room slanted across her face. Jade's eyes were dark, and her lips-wet and rosy-curved into a smile.

"What do you suppose would happen to any man who tried that with the Princess?" he asked, teasing, but feeling strangely shy.

"Tel'Ka would stuff and mount him herself." She paused, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. "Lucky for you, I'm a bit more lenient."

"You are." His voice was husky, and of their own accord, his lips sought hers.

"Try it again and I'll show you just how lenient I can be."

"My pleasure." He kissed her again, a fleeting brush of lips.

"Don't hog it all," Jade murmured, and her head fell back, exposing her neck to him.

Jag accepted the offered skin, his mouth traveling from her chin along her jaw, down her throat. He breathed in, the clean scent of her filling his mind, and dropped light kisses along her collarbone to her shoulder.

She kept a hand held to the back of his head, her fingers in his hair, but he felt the slow progress of her other hand. As he pushed the scarlet silk aside to expose the rest of her shoulder, her hand found the edge of his uniform jacket, then the fasteners. He had a moment to consider what she was doing, then her hand was inside his uniform, flat against his chest, and she whispered his name.

"Hmm."

"There's a couch," she murmured against his ear, "in the other room. And there is a tusk digging into my back."

Colonel Jag Panzer groaned into the darkness of his bunk-room, frustrated. He rolled over onto his back and tucked his arms under his head. Jade Jordan. The young Templar woman had been on his mind all night since the former Queen's interruption. And that was exactly how he though of the beautiful old woman's emergence from the room across the corridor: an untimely interruption.

He'd had a chance with Jade tonight. A chance for what, he wasn't quite sure, but he knew that there had been possibilities. The rare sojourn into fantasy his mind had tripped into under pretense of helping him sleep had attempted to satisfy his curiosity.

But where was fantasizing about Jade Jordan going to him in the end? More importantly, his very male body demanded, why the hell hadn't he finished?

***

The End!