The Time Voyager's Obsession

Fall - I

No matter how hard Hana tried, she couldn’t look away. She found herself filled with equal parts disgust and arousal. This is what it would look like, what it would feel like, to love Tiberius Var. If Hana simply gave in to her baser needs and desires, she too could find herself devoured by his insatiable lips, enveloped by his inexhaustible caress. Yet, at the same time, the object of Tiberius’s affections was as different from Hana as could be conceived. Though the Voyager had meant to injure her by comparing the two women, she and Tahlia were far from the same person. Even in viewing such a short interaction, Hana could plainly see that.

Where Hana often felt awkward and beyond her depth when in the presence of the brooding man, Tahlia was a purely s****l being. In her interaction with the young captain, she had been firmly in charge, nearly predatorily so. She had seduced Tiberius, body, and soul, and then when she became bored, she had left him for a more affluent version of himself. It made Hana irrationally angry.

“Computer, activate the next memory sequence,” Hana commanded. She had seen enough of Tahlia and Tiberius’s lovemaking to last her a lifetime. Hana no longer saw anything of herself in the woman before her. Watching any more or the star-crossed lovers would only leave her feeling tainted. The serene poolside scene began to pixelate once more, and a much darker simulation took its place.

It was night, and Hana found herself within a luxurious bedchamber, piled high with plush brocade pillows and intricately embroidered drapes and tapestries. The evening was as warm as the prior day by the poolside, but the air felt heavier and more humid. Distant thunder sounded and lightning flashed on the horizon, making her flinch. Hana had to fight the urge to seek cover. Storms were a common occurrence on Astra Glacies, their violent nature largely responsible for the installation of the planet’s underground boroughs. As such, Hana had never witnessed one above ground before, only having seen their ferocity documented within the recesses of the archives. Her eyes scanned the room warily, lighting upon Tiberius’s stoic figure poised on the exterior balcony.

Slowly, Hana walked towards him, following his gaze to the city nestled below. In the distance, a fire burned, great billowing plumes of smoke trailing into the night sky. Tiberius’s face was hard as he looked on but beneath it, Hana could see sadness clouding his eyes. He was older but still unscarred, though the passing years had weighed heavily upon the young captain. The swaggering smile of his youth had been replaced by the scowl so characteristic of Hana’s time spent with the Voyager. When a door to the chamber flung open behind them, Tiberius winced, closing his eyes against the incoming assault.

“How dare you!” Tahlia raged, storming towards him. “How dare you publicly speak against me!” As he turned to address her, Tahlia’s shoulder dropped back to strike him, her hand landing across his cheekbone with a smart slap. Hana’s own hand rose to her lips, her fingers hovering over her gaping mouth. She had never seen such a look of fury in the Voyager’s eyes. Tahlia must have seen it too because she reared back once more, ready to deal him another blow. This time, Tiberius caught her by the wrist, digging his fingers into her skin until she yelped with pain.

“I am your captain, your chief advisor on matters of state. It is my job to speak where I am knowledgeable, to lend you the wisdom of my experience for the good of Naphus. If you do not wish for it, then send me away and I will go. I have no patience left for your tantrums,” he spat, tossing her hand away.

“And I have no patience left for your sulking, your constant acts of defiance, your derision. I am your Queen, Tiberius Var, and as such, my word is above contestation! The next move you make against me will be your last!” Tahlia seethed, her face twisted in contempt. Tiberius threw his head back and laughed heartily, each new outburst sounding sharper than the last. In a rage, Tahlia’s fists railed against his chest, pounding until his laughter quieted and he looked down upon her with eyes of flint, threatening to spark at the smallest strike.

“You wish to kill me, my love? Well then, be my guest. Here, I’ll make it easy for you.”

The captain sunk down to his knees, pulling open his shirt to reveal a bare chest. As Hana had once suspected, Tiberius must have acquired his tattoos after becoming a Voyager. He certainly had not earned them while in Tahlia’s service. Unsheathing the dagger from the scabbard at his side, he thrust the hilt towards her.

“Go ahead, do it if that is what you wish. I will not resist. There are worse ways to surrender in death than at the hands of a beautiful woman.” He looked up at her intently, daring the Queen to act upon her veiled threat. She glowered down at him but made no move forward and at last, Tiberius rose to his feet.

“Forgive me, I forgot that you prefer not to fight your own battles. You would rather that others fought them for you. Isn’t that right, my Queen?” Tiberius leered down at her.

“Enough! I will suffer no more beratement from you! If you aren’t here to pleasure me, then get out!” She pointed to the door, her entire frame trembling with outrage. Seeing that he was making no headway, Tiberius changed tactics. He sighed, taking a step towards the infuriated Queen.

“I am trying to help you, Tahlia, in the only way I know how. If you go through with this, you are putting yourself at risk. There will be consequences for such an offensive, and I do not want to see you pay the price for poor strategy. Gnoab is young and rash, as I once was myself. He does not see the flaws in such a plan because he does not wish to. Give him time to learn and mature, then promote him to your war council. There is no place for him at present, but-”

“Oh, I beg to differ, Tiberius,” Tahlia cut him off, raising her chin haughtily. “While I concede that Gnoab is young, I believe he possesses a wisdom far beyond his years. He has offered a very feasible solution to the problem of our little Xeunese uprising. You’re simply jealous because another has earned my favor. Don’t worry, my love, there will always be a place in my affections for you, even if that place is behind Gnoab,” Tahlia hissed venomously. The Voyager’s carefully restrained temper reared its head once more, and Tahlia took a step back from him.

“What Gnoab is proposing is g******e! The war is over, Tahlia! The Xeunese are your people just as much as the Taohkese. They rebel because they are starving to death, not because they wish to overthrow you! If you send an army of mercenaries into their midst, we will have another war on our hands, bloodier and more bitter than the last. This bloodshed can be avoided with the smallest amount of diplomacy. I am begging you to reconsider. You cannot do this just to spite me! There is more at stake than that!”

Hana squirmed uncomfortably, remembering her own conversation with the Voyager, not so long ago. Tiberius had scolded her, telling her there was more at stake than their own fleeting happiness. While she had assumed that his words were meant to make her submit to his authority, that hadn’t been the case. She could see now that the man was indeed trying to prevent history from repeating itself. Begrudgingly, Hana wondered how else she might have misjudged him.

“Do not lecture me, Tiberius Var, you are not my father, though you may like to think of yourself as his equal. Tibor Dariana was a great man, and you, Captain, are already past your prime, clinging desperately to a bygone era that is slipping through your fingers. Now, get out of my chambers!” The Queen turned from him, seating herself before her dressing table as she removed her bejeweled arm cuffs and rubbed sweet oils into her skin.

Hana blinked, recalling her own recent comparison of Tiberius. While Tahlia had sought to belittle and degrade him by throwing the memory of her late father in his face, Hana had thought the men to be quite similar. She remembered the strange look that had passed over the Voyager’s face when she had offered him the explanation and realized that her words must have ripped the scab off of an old wound. More and more she found her own existence to be paradoxical to that of Tahlia’s, but not in the way that she had first anticipated. Hana recognized, with foreboding, that a strange pattern of yin and yang was starting to establish between herself and the Queen. She was beginning to suspect that Tahlia had sought out Sano's attention for more reason than one.

“Insult me as you please, but those are your subjects suffering! That is your city burning! I am asking you, pleading with you to restore peace, while it is still within your power to do so,” Tiberius roared, gesturing out to the flaming cityscape. “The lives of thousands rest upon your shoulders! You cannot only rule, Tahlia, you must lead!”

Tahlia looked up at him through her lashes, her hazel eyes taking on a golden glimmer in the dim light. A cruel smile curled her full lips and she held up her delicate hands before her, palms extended.

“Then I wash my hands of them. Their lives are no more important to me than those of flies. If they die, then so be it. They will quickly mate and repopulate themselves, it is the way of those people. Either way, it is no concern of mine.”

Tiberius’s face fell instantly, any remaining delusions he had held of his lover, utterly shattered. Hana shared in his sentiment. She hated to think that she shared any aspects of herself with such a woman. Tiberius spun on his heel to storm from the Queen’s chamber, slamming the door so hard behind him that a c***k ran up the plaster wall.

“Computer, next sequence,” Hana ordered, eager to be away herself. A pit had begun to form in her gut, anticipating what the next simulation held. Even so, she was determined to see the story through to completion, if not for herself, then for Tiberius. In her mind’s eye, he had imperceptibly shifted from the persona of a villain to that of a victim.

When the system had recalibrated, Hana found herself standing in the center of a crowded throne room. At its head, Tahlia reclined on a chaise lounge positioned atop a center dais. Tiberius stood to her right, his countenance having only grown more tormented with time. Simultaneously, all eyes turned towards Hana, and for a moment she feared that the spectators had somehow perceived her arrival. Quickly, she realized that they weren't looking at her, but at someone approaching from behind. Rotating slowly, Hana came face to face with a dead man. Sano Var strode confidently through the parting crowd, stopping to kneel before the dais on bended knee. Tiberius had grown visibly pale, his hand grasping the hilt of his dagger with white knuckles.

“My queen, I have always loved you, and always will. I have loved you in every lifetime, defying the bounds of time, space, and dimension. I have defied death itself to hold you for a single moment. In every form, every parallel of existence, I have loved you. With each rebirth, I have found you. I will always find you. I am Sano Var, a Voyager of the stars. What is your name, you divine creature?”

Hana began to tremble, the sights and sounds of the throne room fading away to white noise. Those words! They were as familiar to her as the back of her hand and yet, it was her first time truly hearing them. She had passed many a sleepless night thinking back to her celestial vision at Mala Fide, the first and only time she had successfully voyaged.

As the astral plane had spread out before her, the stars, planets, even the multiverse itself, had seemed to draw into alignment, a string of worlds all connected by the same endless chain. Across the void of time, space, and dimension, the words had whispered to her with a promised caress. From another place, another time, she had heard the Voyager’s voice. And now she was there, having crossed the known and unknown universe to hear that fated endearment with her own ears. Only to Hana, the dream had turned into a nightmare. It was not Tiberius who spoke to her of love, but Sano, whose worshipful flattery spoke more of a dark obsession.

“Tahlia,” the Queen purred, drinking in his praise like wine. “How would you serve your Queen, Sano Var?”