Starlight Gleaming Chapter 21 Pt 4
by TJSkywind
This installment is shorter than usual. I had a major health setback at the end of September and it seriously affected my ability to write. Reading was fine, but writing was a hardship. Waves of exhaustion, intense headaches, and mental pleas to "do something else!" Progress through the winter months was often two steps forward followed by one step back. I will do everything to continue the recovery. All I ask is some patience; this is *not* an abandoned story. The good wishes that I received in the meantime have been much appreciated.
Thanks to TerrytheTraveler and StoshB for lending a hand with catching errors. As the author -- any gaffs, typos, dropped words, usage errors, omissions, commissions, permissions, WTFs and OMGs are totally my fault. Enjoy!
Summary:
Three days after the devastating air raid by Atlantis, High Guard War Base continues its desperate recovery efforts, trying to save as many lives, equipment, and structures as possible while preparing for the next assault by Atlantis. For Ranji, the challenges are many. Process those rescued from captivity, integrating the new Imperial Security platoon, deal with the 602's losses, assist the 1267 with theirs, continue assisting where he can with recovery efforts, deal with the new Air Service general at High Guard, and do whatever he can to get the new circuit board installed and working to resist the next attack by Atlantis. Do all these tasks while protecting his loved ones and adjust to merging two noble households.
This story takes place immediately after the press conference in Capisco, adjacent to High Guard War Base. We are about one-third of the way through book 5. Welcome back to Starlight Gleaming.
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Part 22 -- Finding Comfort
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It was approaching zero hour when Mack, Akama, and I got into the queue to return to High Guard. The long lines of combustion vehicles bringing supplies were welcome but delayed our progress. Despite the humid night of late summer, we kept the windows up to avoid the stink of the vehicle exhaust. It was actually a relief when we finally passed through the Main Gate. The greetings and salutes from the security troopers felt good.
All three of us were short on sleep and worn out.
When we arrived home and the cruiser was parked and secured, at my insistence, they left directly to care for and feed their babies.
Mack and Akama were more than dedicated field troopers; they were young mothers with children they had not sought yet had come to love dearly. Underlaying their personal feelings and experiences were the events of the past two days. More of their small cadre of fellow women troopers were gone forever, warriors who'd become their friends, co-workers, with whom they shared parenting duties, and for the other children they'd developed an affection for. The women closed ranks and carried on, but if Mack and Akama were anything to go by, some of my veteran field troopers were reeling inside.
Nearly everyone from First Home had nearly died from the air attack by Atlantis, trapped in their underground shelter while the air had filled with smoke they could not escape from. Their rescue had been a very near thing. Meanwhile, their home and all they owned were destroyed by the fire that burned most everything to the building's foundations.
To relieve the crowding at my place, some had gone to Second Home to make use of the available space. Second Home itself had escaped the Atlantean rampage, only to be forcibly abducted in the wee hours of the morning, taken from the safety of their homes.
It must have galled them! Veteran warriors taken prisoner within the safety of High Guard! Three brave souls had jumped from cars, desperate to get the word out, only to be captured again. The men had forced the others to watch, helpless, as their friends were beaten and coldly executed. Then came more horror as they were bound, blindfolded, and taken underground. Some of the Obsidian Tears gang were eager for the chance to rape new victims, and the fact the women were Air Security -- female military cops -- made their cries of outrage and pain all the sweeter to their abusers. Some of the gang sought vengeance for those lost in the attack on my home and were particularly cruel. Those nearing delivery and those still recovering from giving birth were given no consideration whatsoever.
When Doyya, my Second, called for volunteers, the response had been overwhelming in the shared desire to rescue their lost sisters. Yet that was not the whole of it. There were some many men from the 602 as well as the Ground Service warriors who stepped up -- no less exhausted from the recent air raid and coping with their own losses -- eager to save fellow warriors and deal out some payback.
I was too tired at the moment to contemplate these facts, but these thoughts had nonetheless percolated in the back of my mind throughout the day.
When I entered my home, it was still packed beyond overflowing with troopers and a few refugees, most with their families. At this time of night, many were asleep. Even when the homes of my neighbors were deemed safe, many still returned for group meals, glad to see the uniforms and share a meal with their fellow Imperial citizens. Despite the carnage, the general mood was a determination to protect the civilians and to prepare for the next attack from Atlantis.
Thankfully, the small portable table had been moved from the family room to the front room where local rescue operations continued apace, doing their best to make a dent in a hundred small crises for that day, mindful that the morrow would bring other new urgencies clamoring for attention.
Pausing a moment near the kitchen, I gazed at the entrance to the gym overflowing with people, most huddling in packed groups either talking in whispers or lost in the oblivion of sleep. A few wept quietly and others sat, still in shock. Most, however, carried on, doing what they could for themselves and for those around them.
I knew Mack needed to see and touch her son Tambo, just as Akama needed her Shima. Purpose, validation, love, and contentment were all found in the simple act of cradling a child that suckled from an offered teat overflowing with milk without regard to relationship. Hungry babies were fed, cleaned, hugged, and sung to. Even more, solace was found with friends awake enough to help the adults eat a hot meal and settle in for too few hours of sleep to really rest and recover.
I tried to catch a glimpse of them from where I stood. I was loathe to seek them out; they had just left my company and seeing me might interfere with their too few moments of rest. For all of us, there was simply too much to do and not enough bodies to do it all.
As for myself, I was young, but with months of long hours, learning from all the administrative mistakes I made, and experiencing what it meant to be a regimental CO and all the duties such required, the long hours had left me with little reserve. The past three days and the lack of sleep had tested me sorely. Being no longer able to think rationally, I was overtired and needed sleep. Yet despite my physical and emotional exhaustion, my mind was awash with all the things that screamed for my immediate attention.
A few refugees waved at me, and I cannot recall if I even acknowledged them. Some watched me in silence while others ignored me, focused on whatever held their attention at the moment. Uniforms dirty, some torn. Part of me wanted to see how they were doing, to praise them for their bravery -- but I was too numb to act on it.
One random thought chased after another as my eyes saw the stairs and I moved toward them, passing the two alert troopers on guard on the second floor.
I thought of my own girls, how glad I was they were safe, and I guess it was a measure of my exhaustion that didn't even check on them.
Mindful of the women already asleep, I entered the master bedroom quietly as I could. After securing my weapons, I pretty much let my clothes drop into a heap next to my shoes. Padding naked to the bathroom, once the shower was running, I stepped in, leaned against the wall, and closed my eyes, sighing as the hot water streamed over my body. I may even have dozed a moment or two. Forcing myself to be more awake, I quickly washed and toweled off. Being clean helped clear my mind a little.
Once back in the bedroom, I stared at the huge bed at a loss. Zinja slept at one end, Janetta lay sprawled in the middle, and Izel was on the other end.
They're asleep
, I thought.
They're so damn beautiful, every single one. If I try to climb in, I'll wake them up.
After all the things that had happened, I felt an empty ache inside. The barely restrained emotional pain from Mack and Akama talking about the dead children and their murdered warrior sisters weighed on my mind. My own experiences at Sparantzlo easily supplied the images of terror they had surely endured, wondering if rescue was even going to come at all.
That, in turn, led to me flashing on my own experiences in the Seventh Hell. Tied to a table. Helpless to resist the pain that had battered my senses, obliterating my thoughts, grateful for each second of its absence. I shuddered, banishing such dark memories.
Those are past events. Those experiences are part of me but they do not own me. I own them!
I took a long breath, then exhaled slowly. Janetta's words of defiance came to me unbidden. Her voice spoke them as if she were speaking to me at that very moment.
You are a warrior and you are still standing. Breathe in. You're still standing! Breathe out. Breathe, Ranji, breathe!
Men are often physically stronger than women, but there is no denying the power of a woman's embrace, and not just to arouse, but also to soothe and console.
I stared at Janetta's sleeping form and I felt a wave of emotion rise up like the ocean and surround me. For an instant, I nearly sobbed out at the intensity of my feelings for her. I love that woman so much!
Raw emotion was replaced by intense arousal. Blood quickly filled my cock. The idea of losing myself in her arms while driving myself over and over into her yielding, slippery notch verged on sheer brilliance.
I suddenly wanted to press my entire length into her body, to buck and thrust into her tight wet heat until her eyes rolled back and she cried out my name, overwhelmed as she came on me. No, the word want was too weak. I needed her in my arms, and I needed to make her crazy with pleasure so that we both could forget the rest of the world for just a few minutes. I needed her arms hanging tightly onto me while her pussy clutched at my embedded cock and, gods! to feel the intense satisfaction of emptying myself into her welcoming, quivering folds, knowing she loved me and wanted every single drop of what I offered to her.
A woman's loving arms might not change anything, but the comfort she provides sure can make everything a lot more bearable.
I enjoy making love with Janetta. No question. My prickly pear can be so passionate! When I can get her to admit it, she loves me and loves what I do to her, too. Yeah, I remembered she'd ridden me the night before, but I'd barely been awake for it. Her sex drive was nearly as high as mine; in all likelihood, she had sated her physical needs, but my lack of participation had likely left her heart unsatisfied.
My balls clenched at the idea of being buried inside Janetta's amazing, tight, wet pussy.
Ranji, stop thinking with your cock! Janetta's sound asleep. The woman you love has worked hard all day, putting in extra hours to help get the airfields cleared and repaired. She and Zinja need their sleep, you selfish fuck!
Those thoughts were all true.
I wanted my fierce warrior woman, to hold her hips to mine while pumping her full of my seed! No, not just mine. I needed for her to have her pleasure, too.
Janetta was asleep and needed her rest.
I was stupid with exhaustion.
Janetta, I love you so much!
Fuck!
I couldn't do it. I loved her and needed her. I heard my father's voice, reminding me that sometimes the test of love is putting the needs of others above your own.
If she was half as tired as I was, she needed her sleep.
