“Colonel Israfa,” Major Glicki announced, “we have a hail from the Eternal Light. Supreme Commander-General Jophiel would like to converse with you in 10 minutes."
Jophiel was the Alliances highest ranking military authority, second only to the Eternal Emperor himself, and the social equal of Prime Minister Lucifer, the highest ranking elected civilian authority.
“Thank you,” Raphael said. "Send it right through."
He glanced in the mirror and straightened out his uniform, fussily tucking a few stray golden feathers into alignment so that his wings appeared glossy and smooth. It felt as though he had a mouth full of pinfeathers, his hands growing clammy as he broke out in a cold sweat. He practiced first his most serious expression, and then a welcoming one, trying to decide which would best communicate what he really wished to say. Neither felt right. He gave his reflection a wistful smile, an expression he'd been wearing a lot lately, and not simply because his best friend had gone missing.
The video conference monitor beeped at precisely the appointed time. He made a panicked grab for the photograph he kept prominently displayed on his desk and shoved it into a desk drawer just as Major Glicki sent through the hail.
“Colonel Israfa,” Supreme Commander-General Jophiel's ethereally beautiful face was professional and cold as she got right to the point. “What have you discovered?”
“He was scouting reports of Sata’anic incursion into this sector when his ship was hit." Raphael masked his disappointment that this would be another one of those conversations. “We can take that alone as an indicator the intelligence has some basis.”
“You have a week to find him,” Jophiel said without emotion, “but I can't justify the deployment of resources to hunt down one man any longer than that. Not even for your friend."
Raphael frowned, and then grinned with pride as Jophiel shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The bulge in her midsection was so large it was impossible to hide, even in the head-and-shoulders only video transmission.
“Jophie, how fares our son?" Raphael allowed the tenderness to register that he knew he should hide, but couldn't.
“He fares well." Jophiel's expression softened. “It won’t be much longer."
She was beautiful under any circumstances, but when she let the icy mask of a general slip, Jophiel took his breath away. Wavy white-blond hair, cerulean blue eyes, porcelain skin, ruby lips, high cheekbones, straight nose, and snow-white wings, if ever the Eternal Emperor were to point to a single specimen of his genetic tinkering and say, ‘this is perfection,’ it would be Jophiel.
“I want to be there with you!" Raphael tried to make it come out as an offer of support rather than the pathetic plea it really was. “Let me come to you when our son makes his appearance into this world?”
“You know the laws of our people." Jophiel's features composed back into the controlled mask of a general. “Besides, we can't spare you. You're needed there." She abruptly ended the transmission.
Raphael’s wings drooped. He hoped the limited range of the monitor had hidden the traitorous appendages from the view screen. His kind was not supposed to care that marriage was forbidden and sexual relations for any purpose other than to replenish the Emperor’s ranks discouraged. They were artificial life forms, created solely to perpetuate the glory of the Emperor, but damantia! He was disappointed!
He pulled the photograph out of the drawer and gave it a wistful caress. Jophiel had made it clear from the outset that she only entered into a five day union to fill the Emperor’s ranks. Once he fulfilled his duty, she would have nothing more to do with him. All offspring were to be deposited in the Emperor’s youth training academies hours after birth to be raised, as all hybrid children had been reared for hundreds of years. Including him.
Mikhail, who knew her well, had warned him that she meant it, but Raphael had not listened. He'd been … star struck.
A sad smile tugged down the corners of his mouth. For one so icy and distant, the general had thawed during her heat cycle. He'd pulled out all the stops not to just contribute the necessary genetic matter, which was all that was expected of him, but to imprint himself upon her very soul so she would never be satisfied with anyone else. And she'd appeared to respond. Right up until the test had come back positive. A successful mating!
She'd instantly banished him to the remotest sector of the galaxy, giving him command of the Light Emerging as a consolation prize, and had not had any in-person contact with him since. Just as Mikhail had warned him she would do! A command carrier was a high honor for a mere Colonel, but he would have much rather have had her.
“Major Glicki,” Raphael called up to his second-in-command. “You get off shift in half an hour, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who’s up there on the bridge to take over?”
“Lieutenant T’trk should be here in twenty minutes.”
“Good,” Raphael said. “Meet me in the officer’s lounge in forty-five minutes. And bring the good stuff.”
“That bad, huh?” Glicki knew Raphael only ever imbibed the potent Mantoid beverage when Jophiel had shot him down. Again.