Return to Valjiir Stories
Return to Valjiir Continum
Sulu woke and opened his eyes at the soft tap on his thigh. Del smiled at him and he returned it. He rose to his elbows, then up on his arms, head tilted back. The glistening red capsule Del gave him melted in his mouth. He shuddered with its ecstasy, then sat forward, the gratitude shining in his eyes.
Del’s finger traced Sulu’s full lips. “Red today, my cock,” he murmured, then left the room.
Sulu smiled, then stretched and got quickly to his feet. He went through his exercises with agile precision, limbering every muscle in his perfectly toned body. In the shower he was captivated by his reflection in the mirrored tile and explored himself thoroughly. Flawless. He dried himself roughly with a coarse towel to sensitize and simulate his skin to a glowing bronze, then applied the specially formulated oil to keep it smooth and satiny. He brushed his shoulder length jet black hair until it shone, then massaged softening cream into the tattoo at his left thigh; no more than two inches in height, a perfect miniature of a naked crystalline figure, edged in bronze and surrounded by a halo of flame. The figure was kneeling, legs apart with a prominent erection rising against its belly. Its hands were clasped behind its back, the head thrown back in obvious ecstasy with eyes closed and mouth open. He rubbed the same cream into the tattooed flames that danced around his dark almond eyes. He painted his lips a brilliant flame red, then donned the erection-hugging banded and thonged loincloth that matched that color. One final cream, a cleanser and polisher for the ruby set in his right earlobe, and he smiled critical approval at himself before leaving to report for the first customer Del had invited for him.
Jilla bathed and prepared herself before Del came to wake her. To take the amber before she was properly presentable would have resulted in an intense orgy for one – and Del disapproved of such a waste of potential. She polished the dylithium that had been inset at her wrists and ankles and encircled her throat; polished, too, her skin so that it gleamed and flashed like silver firelight. She brushed her thick burgundy hair, arranging the strands of silver and dylithium through it so that it too appeared to be sparkling with its own light. She oiled her nipples to a deep pewter brilliance, along with the brand at her breastbone. The tattoo at her left thigh was softened, a miniature naked female crystalline figure, edged in silver, surrounded by a halo of flame. She painted her lips a shimmering charcoal, highlighting her cheekbones with the same color. Silver powder was dusted on her eyelids and she lacquered her fingernails to give the impression of silver flames.
Del murmured aroused approval when he came into her room. The amberglow completed the aura of silver fire to heady perfection.
Fingers at her lips and the feel of the crystal brought Ruth awake and she reached for Del’s touch as she swallowed.
Lioness, he said in her mind and she stretched and growled erotically. His chuckle came like tiny flakes of ice and she smiled. He kissed her, then rose from her bed. She quickly leapt from it, her delight silent, and bounded into the shower. Needles of warmth cleansed her as she carefully washed her tawny gold skin. She used the forced air nozzle on her long, thick, hair, spreading it out in a wild, luxurious mane of gold around her. She made up her eyes and cheekbones and lips in shades of cinnamon. Special attention was paid to polishing the ever-present necklace of dark jade that made up the ka’din at her breastbone. Her golden collar was adjusted and she made sure the metal representation of the House’s insignia - the perfect miniature, a naked crystalline figure, edged in gold, surrounded by a halo of flame - was clean and visible. She fastened the golden belt with its dark green leather pouch around her waist. The final touch was to lacquer her nails a deep cinnamon. She whirled before her mirror in sharp, tantalizing ecstasy, then hurried to find Del.
Don Noel DelMonde, owner and proprietor of House Crystal Flame, was not surprised at the call from his port. The Enterprise had come out of warp, demanding immediate docking. The ship’s Captain and the Vulcan who was her First Officer had been making it a habit to drop by unexpectedly to check on the progress of the three unusual trainees they’d brought to him nearly a year before. He had been very glad to see little Jilla – and she was so perfect he could barely bring himself to believe she was not the same petite Indiian barbarian he had trained for Selar. The Antari was a special gift and quite a coup for his House. Antaris were born whores, but they were – or had been – untrainable in the usual sense of that word. And Sulu… ah, dear Sulu! Del had been a personal friend of the man this Federation boy had dared to impersonate. It was a delicious payback to tame him – and a deeply intimate thrill to toy with the sensual body he knew so well.
He checked his appearance in the mirror before giving the word to admit Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock Sareklrn of Vulcan to his private office.
“Three days,” Kirk said, his voice harsh. “I can’t give leave with the latest revolt and my men need release.”
“There has been much praise for your success with the Federation people,” Spock added. His tone was soft but no less savage. “The crew will get special delight from them.”
“Especially Security,” Kirk rejoined with a chuckle that wasn’t pleasant.
Del smiled expansively. “Of course, Captain, Commander. I fully understand. I believe I can suffer their absence for 72 hours.” He snapped his gloved fingers, then pivoted on one stacked heel, his hands coming to rest on his corseted hips. His dark eyes sparkled, he tossed his head with its deliberately unruly thick dark hair arrogantly. His painted lips pouted in pleased expectation.
Sulu, Ruth and Jilla came to him, each kneeling to reverently kiss his barely sheathed erection before facing the waiting officers.
“Well trained,” Kirk grunted. Spock said nothing.
“You’re going with them,” Del said to his pets. He blew each of them a kiss. “Be good.”
They smiled, ebony, grey and violet eyes burning, and waited for orders.
Jim Kirk almost passed out at the sight of his three officers. They had been lost for nearly 18 months. Their counterparts had died in an attempt to retrieve them using the transporter that had exchanged them into this dark, mirror universe. With that failure, it had taken the best scientific and engineering minds in the Federation over a year to find a way to open a rift between universes. The Enterprise had volunteered as a whole to use the technology, careful to emulate all Jim, McCoy, Scott and Uhura recalled from that savage place. Once in it, they discovered the reason for the death of their visitors during the attempt at re-exchange – Kevin Riley was dead, killed by this universe’s Spock for daring to approach the Vulcan’s woman. Without his essence to transfer, the ionic interference necessary had killed the others. They had mourned, but continued their mission. What had seemed like a quick grab-and-go had turned into a search and rescue, for their officers were no longer on board the ISS Enterprise. Jim’s voice print got them into Fleet records, which indicated that their officers had been discovered for the imposters they were. While it was possible that Ruth and Jilla would have been sold as slaves, Uhura thought it unlikely that Security Chief Sulu would have survived. Beyond Starfleet, the rest of Imperial information was still sealed against them. Spock had had to break into several computer security protocols, and hours of study had produced the name ‘House Crystal Flame' in connection with Jilla. And so they were here. It was a windfall to find Lieutenant Valley as well, and a miracle to find Lieutenant Sulu - but their condition…
Jim shuddered at the desire that pumped through him, ashamed and repelled by its force, yet helpless to stop it. Ruth was an animal, wild and naked, her nails more like red-brown claws – a lioness in heat. He thought of another place, another time, where her drugged mind and painted body had become an Antari lioness, and he shivered.
Jilla had always been innocent, her Vulcan calm and innate sorrow invoking protective rather than sexual feelings in him. Even when she had been drawn into the Vulcan mating cycle, Jim had never thought of her in sexual terms. Yet now she stood before him and all that touched his senses was the intensity of a searing silver flame and his body responded with fiery arousal.
But worst – and most stimulating and Jim had to swallow that hard truth – was Sulu. He was a gleaming bronze god, sensual, taunting, the most erotic, maddening thing Jim had ever seen. The dark eyes glittered with promise, the red lips beckoning, the red cloth that accentuated rather than covered drawing wicked attention to the overwhelming maleness of his being.
Jim’s heart was pounding, and as he called the ship for beam-up, he found himself wondering if Spock, too, was affected by the sexual fire that surrounded what was left of his three young officers.
From the information on House Crystal Flame, Spock was prepared for Lieutenant Majiir’s and Lieutenant Valley’s appearance. The addition of Lieutenant Sulu to that preparedness was met with only minor difficulty. Yet intellectual awareness proved to be grossly inadequate. The naked and near-naked bodies seared his senses, though he could not have said why. The tattoos on Sulu and Majiir’s left thighs, those around Sulu’s eyes, the inset jewels at Jilla’s wrists and throat and ankles, worse, the dark lines of the ka’din at her breast – and most horrific of all, the stones that lay against Ruth’s skin to simulate her ka’din… He managed to contain his reaction with only the strictest control, grateful that any that did show would be in keeping with the charade. Yet his mind was stunned and his blood was aflame with rage or passion and he did not know which or care to. His rilain, a gleaming tongue of silver fire, breathlessly sensual. How had her innocence been so perverted? Mr. Sulu, also gleaming, also sensual, but no fire. He was perfection and potency molded in knowing bronze. And Ruth… an animal, wild and seductive – and branded, as Vulcans once branded property, but the careful scarring that should have remained – that still marred Jilla’s breast - was instead formed of dark olive jade. The character gleaming against her golden flesh was that of his own name. He fought his revulsion as Jim contacted the ship. As they prepared for beam-up, his heart stopped with a painful wrenching – for Ruth came and knelt at his feet, a proper kal’aroun to her tra’feean.
It had been a bad year for Lieutenant Commander Noel DelMonde. He hadn’t wanted the transfer to the Enterprise. He had tried to explain to the captain of the Hood, to Kirk, to Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott. Scotty had come the closest to understanding. It wasn’t that he blamed the Enterprise or her captain or crew. It wasn’t that he disagreed that the Enterprise was the finest ship in the Fleet and any officer – particularly any engineer – would be thrilled to serve on her. It wasn’t even that the constant reminders of where Ruth had lived and worked would be nearly unbearably painful. It was that he hadn’t wanted to take part in a hopeless cause – especially not one that Fleet was using as an excuse to experiment with new engineering techniques. He hadn’t appreciated the cynicism involved, not when he had loved one of the people who had disappeared. His imperfectly shielded empathy made the assignment a living hell. The people on the Enterprise treated it like a holy crusade. It wasn’t a charade to them, not a convenient excuse to play with theory. They really meant to cross universes and find their friends – and they’d smothered him with their enthusiasm, seared him with their hope. They wouldn’t let her die. And he’d been dragged along, never allowed the peace of his memories – so much so that, of course, they’d infected him. He’d come to believe as strongly as they did that they would find them, they would save them. And in the silence of his cabin at night, it became an aching, open wound.
But we – they right. We get here, we find clues, we doin’ it. Jilla alive, we bringin’ her home, and there reason to t‘ink we find mo’ clues…
Why do I still hurt?
He took a deep breath, knowing half a second before the captain’s call came that it was coming. Scotty glanced at him.
“Are you ready, lad?” the chief engineer asked.
Del nodded. And prayed.
The transporter room was almost crowded. Scott and DelMonde behind the console, Doctors McCoy and Han to one side, the security team to the other. Jeremy Paget, Chief of Security of the USS Enterprise for the past 18 months, shot DelMonde an apprehensive, sympathetic glance. He’d transferred from the Hood at the same time DelMonde had, to replace his lost best friend and lover. It was hell to have to take Sulu’s place, as bad as it was for Cajun to have to work on the Miracle. Paget bit his lip. At least we’ve found one of them, he sighed silently. He was even glad it was Jilla. If they’d found Sulu before finding his lovely little one, his friend would tear the Mirror Universe apart looking for her. Though finding her in an expensive brothel wasn’t going to be conducive to Sulu’s sanity any way you looked at it. Still, as bad as it is, we know what happened to her, his thoughts continued. Where in this hell of a universe is Kam?
“We’ve got four pillars,” Scott announced suddenly. Jeremy’s thoughts jerked back to duty. Scott’s head came slowly up from the controls. “And,” he added, barely audible, “five life forms.”
Dr. Jade Han had done her best to be prepared for this moment. She had come aboard at the request of Leonard McCoy because she was a xeno-psychologist and it was assumed that a specialist might be needed to help with the mental states of the retrieved officers. She had known Jilla Majiir as the quiet Indiian wife of a Vulcan scientist. She had never met Ruth Valley or Takeda Sulu, but had compiled thorough dossiers on each. She’d studied everything on record about them, interviewed those who knew them. She had hopes that all her preparations would prove an unnecessary precaution, that they would require no more than an simple albeit lengthy debriefing. But Jade had found that, in her profession, hopes generally tended to be in vain. As was proven yet again by finding an Indiian widow in a whorehouse.
She heard Scott say ‘five life forms’ and her heart leapt. Five? Kirk and Spock and Jilla, but.. Could it be? Had hope won out? Who else would James be beaming aboard if not…
McCoy voiced her thoughts. “All of them?” he asked incredulously, but no one answered as the shimmer coalesced.
Jilla was startling naked. The young Asian male who she knew from holos was Takeda Sulu was nearly so but no less startling. All that was visible of who Jade assumed to be Ruth Valley was a mass of golden hair at Spock’s feet. Jim’s face was growing red as he stepped off the platform, hitting the com to the Bridge. “Mr. Kelly, we found them all. Get us out of here,” he said to the helmsman, and turned back to the platform. Spock was lifting Ruth to her feet with a gentle, “Miss Valley…”
“Lieutenants,” the Captain said, “welcome home.”
Something was wrong, desperately wrong. The ecstasy at knowing they had actually found the woman he loved plummeted to depths of pain and fear. It was more than her appearance, the shocking evidence of the very expensive and oldest profession that the three of them obviously represented. Del swallowed, the terror growing in him. He barely croaked out Ruth’s name.
Jeremy whispered “Thank god!” at the sight of all three officers, then had to calm the sudden rush of passion that raced through him at their appearance. “Jesus!” he rasped, and heard Scott burst out, “For the love of – lassie, what have they done to you!” And Jilla began to move silently but intently toward the Chief Engineer. Jeremy inhaled at her voluptuousness. Sulu had often described her, but Jeremy had never met her, never seen her… He swallowed, fighting his arousal, then gasped again as Ruth – Spike – turned to DelMonde’s voice, heading for him.
Spock had gently pulled Ruth to her feet, assuring her that such an act was no longer required. He let go of her long enough to remove the Imperial satin over-tunic he wore, to offer it to her to allow her to cover her nakedness. He was deeply disturbed when no acknowledgement came into the velvet eyes. Jim’s words had no effect, on her nor on Sulu nor Jilla. Only Scott’s outburst and DelMonde’s got any reaction – that of enticing seduction. Spock glanced at Jim. The captain was deeply worried – and blushing. Spock stared as Scott frantically held Jilla at arm’s length, and as Ruth knelt – just as she had moments before in House Crystal Flame – to Noel DelMonde.
Jade stepped forward and took Jilla by the arm, gently pulling her away from Scott. She motioned to McCoy for a blanket, a lab coat, some form of covering for the Indiian. “Jilla,” she said softly, and noted the subtle change of attitude. Jilla’s attentiveness became no less intense, but less seductive and more submissive, completely focused on Jade even though she did not look directly at her. She had been staring into Scott’s eyes with naked invitation. Now her gaze was lowered.
“Jilla,” Jade tried again. “Do you know me?” And was surprised when the Indiian dropped to her knees, hands behind her back, head tilting back in perfect imitation of the tattoo on her thigh.
Jeremy recognized the amberglow coming from Jilla. He glanced at DelMonde, certain that Cajun saw it too, but DelMonde was too involved with Spike to notice him. She was on her knees, her hands caressing his hips, her lips aiming straight for his cock – and Cajun backed away, his hands pushing at her shoulders.
“Ruth!” Del rasped out again but there was more than shock in his voice. Jeremy looked away, embarrassed and wondering why. He hadn’t wanted to stare at Kam – and had wanted to do only that – but a part of him realized that if he could identify the drugs, he could let the others know what kind of treatment was needed. So he forced himself to look at Sulu. His little one’s on amber, he catalogued, Spike – hell, with an Antari, who knows? Kam, you used to love cruising, but you’re not glowing now.
He noted the unbearably alluring smile on Sulu’s face that made him want to kiss the scarlet lips. The bronze skin gleamed, and Jeremy’s fingers itched to stroke it. He was drawn to the powerful emanation of sexuality and potency, wanting only to revel in that perfect masculinity… Venus. Maybe not the pure Haven stuff – Kam’s not attacking anybody – but venus. Nothing else made one quite as aware of the user’s sexuality – and Jeremy swallowed again. Jesus, Sulu…!
He whispered the name and the sensual smile was suddenly only for him. Sulu moved gracefully, confidently off the transporter platform. Jeremy was rooted to the deck by the promise in Sulu’s dark eyes. It called to him, surrounding him with memories of the desire they’d shared since they were boys growing up in the Terran city of Los Angeles. A litany of Kam, LeRoi, your Majesty ran through Jeremy’s mind, his knees going weak, his throat dry. Recollections of races and needles and Clave back rooms and Cal’s penthouse added to the thoughts burning him. Sulu held out one elegant hand in a taunting, beckoning gesture and Jeremy sighed “god yes!” just as Dr Han’s voice snapped “Mr. Paget!”
Jeremy spun away from Sulu, rasping “Jesus!” with embarrassment and frustration. He felt his skin growing warm and didn’t bother identifying the emotion causing it. “I can’t help it, Dr. Han,” he explained tersely. “He’s on venus.”
“Do so anyway,” Jade retorted sharply. He muttered an apologetic “yes, ma’am,” and caught the understanding glance of his assistant, Tara Ryan.
Jade got a hold of her rising emotions. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Jeremy Paget’s reactions – but he was on duty and if the Chief of Security could be corrupted, they were all in danger of succumbing. She turned away from Jilla’s still kneeling figure and faced the captain. “I think,” she said, “that we should get the three of them to sickbay.”
“Very good idea,” McCoy said, attempting to place his coat around Jilla. “They’ll need full physicals. One thing I can tell you now though. They’re all drugged.”
The relief on Jim’s face was evident. “We can’t tell if that’s all it is, Captain,” Jade hastened to add.
He nodded. “Of course. Mr. Paget, assist the doctors.” He motioned to his First Officer, who was still holding his tunic. “Come on, Spock. We have to make sure we get back home.”
Spock turned, handing his tunic to Jeremy. “If she will take it, Mr. Paget,” he said.
“Aye, sir,” Jeremy responded. He and the other security officers arranged themselves as an escort for the doctors and their patients. They had to steer Ruth, Jilla and Sulu into some sort of formation, and Jade knew each was controlling the inevitable arousal. She saw Paget valiantly trying to get Ruth to take Spock’s tunic, but she only had eyes for Noel DelMonde. Jade glanced at him. He was staring back at Ruth, struck with some unvoiced dread and she realized she’d have at least one other patient to deal with before this was all over.
“If they’re drugged and McCoy can identify the chemicals we’ll know how to treat them. Obviously, Mr. Paget thinks he recognizes some of the effects – Haven by the sound of it, and…” Jim was speaking as he and Spock walked down the corridor, but Spock was only listening with half his mind. The other half was formulating what, for the sake of Jilla Majiir and Ruth Valley’s recovery, needed explaining. The ka’din and what it meant.
“Captain,” he interrupted and by the uneasy look on Jim’s face he knew he had only been talking to cover his tension. How to say it? Outright, and ignore the shame. “The marks at Mrs. Majiir’s breast, the jewels at Miss Valley’s…” He paused.
“Yes, Spock?” Jim prompted. Spock took a deep breath.
“ – are a brand. It is – familiar to me. In the days before Surak, Vulcan men would mark women – property – with such a brand. It seems logical, given our knowledge of this universe, that the way of Surak was never adopted here, and so the fact that Mrs. Majiir wears the brand of Selar Vtkrgdantm, while barbaric, is understandable.” He paused again. “But Miss Valley – the mark she bears…” His eyes closed briefly. “Jim, ” he whispered, “it is my name.”
Jim’s face reddened again. “Is that why she knelt…” he began.
“Yes,” Spock interrupted. He swallowed uneasily before continuing. “It would indicate not only that the custom is still followed, but also that I – or rather my counterpart – is…”
It was Jim’s turn to interrupt. “I see,” he said softly. There was an embarrassed silence, broken by the sound of footfalls and Noel DelMonde’s voice.
“Captain!” he called and Jim turned. “What happen to her?!” The engineer’s voice was hoarse and panic-stricken. “Captain, she mute!”
Del couldn’t think for the horrible silence pounding in his brain. Ruth’s appearance, her awful submission was bad, but he had felt nothing from her mind. There was nothing of the sweetness that healed his tortured soul, nothing of the gentle strength and power that had given him protection from his skinless agony. He was consumed with a terror he had never known, even in his most hopeless of days. He had been prepared to find her dead, or in need of therapy, but mindless? No, not that, mère de Dieu, not that!
To Be Continued...