Lords of the Var:

THE PLAYFUL PRINCE

By

Michelle M. Pillow

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Dedication:

To Katie, for your enthusiasm and spirit.

“A man cannot bow to a woman and still call himself a man.” - King Attor of the Var

 

Chapter One

Tori Elliot, the very dignified scientist, opened her mouth. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, thumping so hard it echoed in her ears. For a moment, no sound left her as she kept her eyes focused straight ahead. There was a dramatic pause and all around her was dead silence. Suddenly, the twentieth century earth music picked up and her naked body jerked into movement. She belted out the tune into her mouth sanitizer turned microphone with her mirror as audience. After a few bars, she dropped the mouth sanitizer and danced and sang around her metal cabin. Her arms flung through the air, wild and carefree, as she slowly got dressed.

The spaceship she was on belonged to the Exploratory Science Commission. The ESC hired out staff and freelance scientists to large corporations, mostly contracting ecological work with mining companies and wealthy environmentalist groups. The ship had been traveling through deep space for weeks, just now reaching the outer edge of the Y quadrant.

Tori didn’t really care where they were. Her last job, testing mineral compounds fourteen thousand feet below the ice surface of Sintaz, had been a great success. With the bonus the drilling company had given her, she’d made enough space credits to support herself in high style for at least a couple years. She was going to take that money and have a month long spa treatment on Quazer while she figured out her next move.

The material of the black, skintight jumpsuit stretched as she pushed her arms into it. The outfit molded to her body, covering her arms and legs completely. Even though she didn’t technically work for ESC, but was a freelancer, she was expected to dress in uniform when contracted through them. They all came with a transmitter sewn into the v-neckline, so the company could find them if anyone went missing. There was always a certain amount of risk in what she did, but the scientific rewards were well worth it. Besides, she never took unnecessary chances.

“Dr. Elliot.”

“Ah! Crap!” Tori jumped. The earth music was automatically turned off as the voice invaded her privacy. Turning to the round cabin mirror, she quickly smoothed down her wild hair and threw it over her shoulders. She stood, watching the shiny surface. It glimmered slightly, fading into a view screen. Her reflection was replaced by the ship’s senior ESC advisor, Dr. Fontaine.

“Good Morning, Dr. Fontaine,” Tori answered, keeping a rigidly professional expression. Her heart skittered around in her chest from being frightened in the middle of her impromptu dance number. That was the last thing she wanted her colleagues seeing.

“Is everything all right, Dr. Elliot?” Fontaine asked. He was an older man with graying black hair. He wore the black jumpsuit of the company covered by a white lab coat. Tori hadn’t had much contact with him on Sintaz, as he stayed up on the surface while she went below ground with her crew. “You look flushed.”

“I was logging in my fitness hours early.” Tori dutifully answered. Okay, so it was a stretch of the truth, but she had worked up a sweat. Besides, she really hated logging in fitness hours.

“Ah, quite right,” Fontaine answered, easily dismissing his question. “Listen, we have a minor situation. The Human Intelligence Agency is coming aboard to commandeer our ship. They’ve asked that all personnel records be turned over to them immediately and we have complied. They have assured us that this should only delay travel for a few days at most.”

“What does the HIA want with a bunch of scientists?” Tori asked, mildly concerned. “Do they suspect something on board?”

“I don’t have all the details, doctor, but they seemed most insistent that it’s an intergalactic emergency. They’ve requested you to head up the team.”

“Wait, what team?” Tori demanded. Damn it! She was on vacation as of last assignment’s completion. She wasn’t ready to take another job so soon. Besides, she hadn’t signed a contract with ESC. They couldn’t force her to do anything! Keeping her voice level, she said, “I’m not personnel. Why were my private records handed over? As of the completion of my last mission, I’m technically a civilian passenger.”

“Sorry, doctor, they had an intergalactic warrant. We had no choice but to give them the qualifications of all onboard scientists.” Fontaine’s expression gave nothing away, but she didn’t expect it to.

If the HIA wanted her to head up a team, she knew she’d have to head up the team. They might pay her, but she wasn’t happy about being forced to do a job. Technically, she’d be given a ‘choice’, but if she refused they could make the rest of her career a nightmare. When they were done with her, she’d be lucky to get work teaching school children scientific categorizing on some remote planet.

Well, Fontaine said it was only a few days delay so it shouldn’t be that bad. They probably had a liquid ore tanker ship crash in an isolated area or some other type of ecological disaster. Why else would they need her? Her specialties were alien biology and geology. Remaining professionally calm, she stated, “Very well, Dr. Fontaine. Please inform me when they arrive. I’d like to be briefed on my new assignment as soon as possible so I can prepare.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Fontaine said. “Your willingness is noted and appreciated.”

“Doctor,” Tori said, nodding. The mirror blipped and she was once more alone with her reflection. Under her breath, she hissed, “Willingness my ass!”

What did the HIA want with her? She didn’t feel like working. She needed a break--a long, relaxing vacation in a place that didn’t have artic temperatures all year round.

Tori sighed, her good humor dampened by the turn of events. The music started again where it’d left off, but she was no longer in the mood. Irritated, she called, “Music off. Bed.”

The music turned off and a narrow bed slid out of the metal wall of the cabin. She threw herself down on the stiff mattress with a thud. Groaning heavily, she stared at the metal ceiling in dejection.

With a grumble, she turned her back on the room, facing the metal wall. “So much for my time off.”

* * * *

“This is the planet of Qurilixen,” Franklin, as he told Tori to call him, said. He pointed to a 3-D map floating above the desk. The small, transparent red sphere rotated slowly between them. There weren’t many bodies of water that she could see, but there was a mountain range and plenty of forest area. It was quite possible the dense forest hid rivers and swampland. By the apparent height of the trees, she’d guess they were surrounded by excessive moisture.

Franklin was a mission director with the HIA. According to him she was now a temporary HIA employee and he was her new temporary boss. His shortly cropped, dark brown hair was trimmed to militant perfection and he walked with rigid purpose. He was young for a director, but that didn’t stop him from ordering those around him about with confidence.

Tori had met his kind before--all work, no play. Not that there was anything wrong with that. She was the same way while on the job--okay, mostly she was.

“And here,” Franklin continued, his hip perched on the edge of the desk, as he pointed at the floating sphere, “is the Var palace. This is where we’ll land and make contact with my agent.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Tori interrupted. She looked at the map and then at him. “But what, exactly, are we landing on Qurilixen for? I need to choose and brief a team, pack my supplies, work on securing permits. In order to do all that, I need to know what we’re up against.”

“Everything you need has already been assembled for you, Dr. Elliot. As for your team, you will command every scientist on board this ship for the duration of this mission.” Franklin paused and Tori instantly filled the silence.

“But, there are nearly a hundred scientists on this ship, maybe more. You can’t mean me to command them all.”

“Yes, I do,” he stated easily, as if it was an everyday occurrence to be handed a huge, career breaking assignment such as this one.

Tori swallowed. Even if it was for only a few days, the fact that the HIA picked her out of hundreds to handle their “intergalactic emergency” would do volumes for her record, not to mention her pay demand. She tried not to be nervous. She couldn’t mess this up--whatever it was. She wondered which part of her work record had impressed them. The biological categorizing on Denat 7? The time she was second in command and helped clean up the mineral spill on Merca? Her numerous publications on DNA sequencing and its application to modern exploratory science?

“It’s a simple assignment and you’ll be afforded with the best equipment and protective gear the HIA has to offer.” Franklin smiled at her, but the look hardly passed as pleasant. “I will offer you whatever assistance I can. All we ask is that you be quick and efficient. I want you in and out of there fast. Discretion is a very vital key in this matter.”

Tori hid her smile. How discreet was sending down a hundred scientists to a primitive planet?

“And what would that ‘simple’ assignment be?” she insisted.

“One of our agents has detected biological weaponry from Ranoz. They believe to have found the weapon intact. It will be your job to test the Var palace and everyone who’s come in contact with that crate to see if they have been contaminated. It will also be your job to make sure the situation is contained.” Franklin again paused and Tori wondered if he was doing it for dramatic effect. It really wasn’t necessary. What he said was dramatic enough on its own. “You’ll have the team down with you for one day. I expect you to utilize them efficiently and get the job done in that time.”

Tori nodded, already making a chain of command list in her head. “Is that all?”

“No,” Franklin continued. “After one day the majority of scientists will be coming back on board. We’d like you to stay behind with a team of no more than three. We need you to run a scan of the surrounding marshland to see if there is anything my agent might have missed. I estimate it should only take a little over a month to test the surrounding area.”

Tori listened to him with a sense of astonishment. “You’re joking. I was told the assignment was only for a few days. I don’t have time for--”

“I never joke about something so serious,” Franklin answered sternly. Tori doubted the man joked about anything. “And ESC assures me you aren’t due anywhere else. They said you refused to sign another contract and were planning to take a vacation. I’d say saving lives takes precedence over those plans, Dr. Elliot. I took the liberty of canceling your hotel room on Quazer and all flight plans. Refunds have been credited to your account, as well as a hefty HIA advance for doing this. I suggest you volunteer for the assignment, Dr. Elliot. If we have to force you to do it, you won’t get paid.”

Tori frowned. Those were lovely options. Do it and get paid, do it and don’t get paid. In her head she laughed sarcastically, but she didn’t dare make a sound to him.

“But ... why me?” She asked, confused. “I’ve never dealt with a biological weapons threat before. I specialize in chemical spills and environ tests. I think there has been a mistake. Surely there is someone else on board more qualified to handle--”

“There is, but you have unique qualifications we feel will help in this particular situation. We want you in charge.” Franklin stood, looking uncomfortable. He reached over, picking up an electronic clipboard. He pushed a button and began to look over her file. “Your record as a scientist is impeccable and you are qualified in the fields we need for this particular assignment. Your records state that you are a leading authority on physical geography and biogeography, not to mention your experience in a wide array of areas--atmospheric sciences, chemistry, oceanography, physics, botany, and microbiology. We also feel your background in bio--”

“Yes,” Tori interrupted. “I’m well aware of my field of study. I don’t really need my educational past and work history read for me. What I do need to know is what exactly my unique qualifications are that would make me the best candidate for this job.”

Franklin cleared his throat and set the clipboard on the desk. He hit the button to draw down the 3D map. The red sphere disappeared.

“Director?” she insisted when he was quiet.

“How much do you know about Qurilixen?” Franklin rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Not much,” Tori admitted. “I don’t think I’ve even heard it mentioned before today.”

“Qurilixen is a planet predominately of males. Due to the blue radiation of one of their threes suns, it’s nearly genetically impossible for them to produce female children. There are two main races--the Var, who we will be in contact with, and the Draig. Both are monarchies.” Franklin lifted a paper folder off his desk and handed it to her. “Here, I had intelligence put this together for you. Since this planet is not part of the intergalactic treaty, we don’t have much else to go on. But, we’ve had an agent working on the planet for several months and are assured the Var will be cooperative in our efforts. What we do have on them will be in there. I suggest you read it over carefully.”

Tori nodded once and tucked the folder under her arm.

“We need you to get a scientific proposal ready to present to the Var king and any other officials there might be. As I said, they aren’t a part of the intergalactic treaty. It would be best for all concerned if we got permission to check their marshes and caves first. It would severely decrease the risk to anyone poking around down there to have that permission. I’ll be blunt. If we have to do this covertly, we will, but the life risk greatly increases.”

“Namely for me,” she said.

“Yes, doctor, namely for you and any with you.”

“Is there reason to believe this is hostile territory?” she asked, keeping her voice calm, though inside she was tense with nerves.

“I honestly don’t know. If there is, they’re territorial skirmishes, isolated to the planet itself.” Franklin cleared his throat, boldly meeting her gaze. “Stay neutral and don’t take sides.”

“I still don’t understand how that makes me qualified for this,” Tori said, pulling the folder from beneath her arm. She looked at the cover stamped top secret, but didn’t open it. “I’m not trained for hostile territory and know very little about intergalactic negotiations. Wouldn’t you need someone with a political background for this?”

“It’s simple, Dr. Elliot.” Franklin did his best not to grin, but she could see the humor in his eyes.

Great, now he decides to get a sense of humor, she thought.

“They’re a planet of men,” Franklin continued. “And you’re the youngest, most attractive, most qualified female scientist we have.”

* * * *

Advanced scientific study since she could read, a doctorate in two scientific fields by the time she was twelve and several masters in many others since that time, ten years of intense on-the-job experience, countless brain uploads, and here she was reduced to being pimped out by the HIA because she was a woman. If her Galaxy Playmate sister, ‘Sapphire’, ever found out about this, she’d never hear the end of it. It was just too humiliating for words.

“Oh, this is too good,” Tori mumbled. “They lose some stupid government weapon and I’m reduced to simpering and flirting with a bunch of savages so they can make sure they got it all back.”

Tori took a drink of wine and looked down at the contents of the “top secret” folder she’d been given. Most of the photographs were aerial views taken from a satellite. There were a few pages of specs about the planet’s surface, some graphs of atmospheric readings, and miscellaneous notes about the weather and culture. All of it was pretty basic and made her wonder just how intelligent the HIA “intelligence” really was.

Tori snorted, reaching down to the floor to empty the wine bottle into her glass. She was well on her way to getting drunk, but didn’t care. They weren’t arriving on Qurilixen until the next morning and she’d have plenty of time to sleep it off.

The Var were a race of shape-shifting cats. Apparently, not much was really known about them, but that they were in the process of negotiating peace with the Draig--their shape-shifting dragon neighbors. The Qurilixian in general were classified as a warrior class that had many petty territorial skirmishes that broke out every fifteen or so years between the rival kingdoms.

The best comparison anyone could make is that the men were like the barbaric warriors of medieval earth. Both races worshipped many gods and favored natural comforts to modern technological conveniences. Intelligence assumed, from the concentrated areas of cropland and cow-like animal herds to the far north and south, that they preferred to raise, grow, and cook their own food.

Tori sighed, pushing the papers away. None of the information was really helpful to her. Unless, she was to assume by barbaric society, they would be easily swayed by batting eyelashes and wiggling hips. What in the world did she know about flirting? She wasn’t ugly, but she’d never be voted Galaxy Playmate of the year like her bimbo of a sister either. When Sapphire was learning to put on makeup, she’d been building model quasars and performing scientific tests while restructuring their density.

“Medieval earth,” she mused, kicking the folder and contents off her bed with her bare foot as she lay down. Reaching over the side of the bed, she placed the wine glass on the floor. “Not exactly a flattering description--disease, ignorance, superstition, bad hygiene, missing teeth, boils, pockmarks....”

Tori continued mumbling her long list, as she closed her eyes. The mental image she had of the Qurilixian people wasn’t exactly flattering. She was used to dealing with corporate business types and other scientists, not superstitious peasants. In her mind, she decided to recap what she learned from the thin file.

The Var palace was a magnificent structure, dominating the surrounding Var city in the valley beneath it. According to the human women who had come to live in the palace over the centuries, it reminded them of the basic structure of the medieval castles found long ago on earth, with an old Moroccan blend to the architectural design.

The Var people were skilled craftsmen and it showed. Since a Var man would live for hundreds of years, they had a lot of time to perfect their skills. Inside, the palace had fantastically hand-woven rugs for the floors and beds. The beautiful inlaid tile walls were of intricate symmetrical patterns. The tiles showcased an exceptional display of colors--blue, red, orange, gold, green. The arched doorways were carved to perfection and great detail.

But, not only was the palace beautiful, it was functional. The halls were like a maze and it was easy for those not familiar with them to get lost. The mainframe computer was engineered into every room and hall, even the center courtyard the family used for privacy. Siren, the mainframe’s programmed name, could answer questions, read life functions, open doors, prepare food--anything a busy Var prince might need. With the right level of security clearance, a person could even order Siren to locate anyone on the grounds or alert the palace guards. It was here in this lush, cushy paradise that the five Var princes grew up.

The oldest, Kirill, was now king. He was recently named ruler after the death of his father, King Attor. Next in line was Falke, the Commander of the Guards. Reid was Commander of the Outlands and also had a twin brother named....

Tori frowned and sat up. Looking over the side of the bed, she saw the paper she was looking for and picked it up. Scanning her eyes over the sheet in the dim light, she read, “Twin brother named Jarek, personality and situation unknown.”

She dropped the paper and lay back down. The twins were the only princes with the same mother. Jarek was in space so she didn’t have to worry about him.

“Lovely culture,” she mused, chuckling drunkenly. “Okay, Tori, focus. The more facts you know, the better prepared you are.”

Prince Quinn, the youngest of the Var brothers, was the ambassador. Ambassadors, in her experience, were usually bores--ugly, boring, tediously pompous bores.

“Hmm, Prince Quinn. Well, being as I’m a foreigner, I’ll probably have to deal with you,” Tori mumbled thoughtfully. “Let’s just hope you have some semblance of manners, shall we?”

Tori snorted, laughing to herself. She closed her eyes, really close to falling asleep. Her mind swirled with the pleasant numbness of liquor.

“Mmm, let’s just hope you know how to bathe.”