Imagine Being Loved By Me

Chapter 1

The decorated Lieutenant left the office of his superior, repeating to himself what his new assignment was over and over again.

It was rare for his fleet to be separated from one another, but this mission only required one lieutenant with a particular set of specialty skills.

Information and research retention.

The job wasn’t a hard one. If anything, he felt he was just assigned as the glorified leader of a clean-up crew.

An opposing political clan had just lost their general to his own clan, The Ruling Class. Now, their uprising was leaderless and their headquarters abandoned. It was their headquarters that was within his mission parameters to seize and return back to the control of The Ruling Class.

“Lieutenant Hannan, sir! We are preparing a smaller vessel from the ship for your journey, sir! It will be ready for departure in one hour, sir!”

The lieutenant only gave a nod of acknowledgment to the overzealous officer before he gave another salute and shout of ‘sir!’ after his dismissal.

His extended assignment was to research and recover any information about the opposing clan and the people that followed them. The sooner they had the information the quicker they could put down any further uprisings. Establishing a post for The Ruling Class within the opposing clan’s Headquarters would only send the signal that The Ruling Class wanted a challenge.

He smirked at the thought of a skirmish in the middle of the city center. Anyone willing to challenge his clan had to be a naturally born fool.

So he assumed this mission would be easy. Besides, he was a thorough, but quick person, so it wouldn't take longer than necessary to complete.

He would make sure of that.

His missions always consisted of a few bodies traveling with him as possible, whether they were alive or dead. That consistency aided in his being quick when there were fewer men to command or worry about if something went wrong. Besides, he was usually meant to blend in and not draw much attention if he could help it. So he looked over the information he had on the men that were assigned to him, memorizing their names and particular skill sets while he was waiting.

He still had a few minutes before he left to report his assignment to the other Lieutenants of the Octan fleet. They would want to know where he was going to be if anything happened. The best he could do on short notice was pen a letter to Lieutenant Conley and hope he would read it. A courier could get it to him before he was off-world and, hopefully, he'd have a reply by the time he arrived at his assignment on Earth.

According to the travel dial on the ship, it would be about a day’s light-speed travel from the planet Psyro to Earth. At least he'd get some rest before having to scope out the foreign headquarters and then get started with its clean-up.

He stared out the window of the small ship onto the deck he’d just left, which held the office of his superior. The ship's engineers were wrapping up the fueling process so he knew he would be taking off soon.

With his hands in his pockets, he let out a long sigh. By this time tomorrow, he will be back on Earth, his home planet.

A place he actively avoided.

~

As soon as they landed, he was in transit to another superior’s office on base to report in.

He always hated special assignments for just that reason.

Having to report to superiors took the unspoken freedom out of being a Space Pirate. Such an occupation was meant for people who already knew what to do and how to go about doing it, not for those who needed someone breathing down their backs and giving them directions.

And yet, as soon as a lieutenant was singled out from their unit for an assignment, that's exactly what happened.

He kept his facial expression rather pleasant while his superior, a tan balding man, ran off a contrite list of expectations until he was dismissed. It had been years since he stepped foot back on the base where he initially trained to do what he was doing now. And only slightly longer than that, since he had to report to someone other than his Octad.

There were nostalgic memories wrapped up in the building that he would rather not focus on, so he kept one foot moving in front of the other until he was out of the building and back in transit.

On his way to the opposing headquarters, he paid close attention to the terrain.

It grew more and more isolated until the roads were no longer pavement, but dust and rocks. The buildings he started out surrounded by in the city, gave way to open fields and leafy vegetation until what looked like a large old-style house came into view.

It dawned on him then, that the headquarters he was tasked with reestablishing were less that and more of an elaborate private home. The fallen general, he was sure, died more because he had accumulated too much wealth rather than because he was of an opposing clan with rising persuasion.

As he arrived outside of the hulking place, he grew more sure of his earlier assessment.

It seemed the place had been abandoned for a while. The gardens surrounding the house were overgrown and unkempt, there were a few window panes shattered, probably from attempted and successful break-ins. The more he initially observed, the more he wondered if there were still things he could recover. Especially if the outside was a reflection of the inside.

That is if the burglars were into vandalism as well.

Upon twisting the knob on the front door, he found it unlocked. Immediately, his curiosity about a non-destroyed interior went out the shattered window panes. The foyer before him was dark and dusty as if it was suffering from prolonged exposure to the elements. With the windows missing panes, he could imagine all the water, wind, and direct sunlight that made its way inside over the period of time that the mansion was abandoned.

His eyes took in everything as he slowly put one foot in front of the other. The rug he was walking on was moldy, and none of the switches worked to provide light. He was sure his superiors had the electricity turned on for his arrival, but since the lights weren’t working, he deduced that the light fixtures were the problem. Hopefully, they only require new bulbs.

He could hear the security team that was assigned to him creeping around the mansion as well.

The place was huge and dirty.

So far, on the lower level, he managed to find the kitchen, three sitting rooms, an office, four bathrooms, the dining and living room, and a four-season room with many nooks and crannies in between. He could see clearly that it was once a beautiful place that probably held plenty of valuable objects and he would restore it to its glory once more.

“Secure the perimeter outside,” he said to the man nearest him, to a chorus of, “Yes sir!”

He could hear their boots retreating outside as his own steps made it toward the grand staircase.

Going up halfway, he turned to take in the view behind him. It was a mess, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Restoring the mansion was the least of his concern anyway. That was something a team of men would handle while he oversaw it. However, securing information and ciphering through loads of crap he was bound to find in the offices and library this mansion held? That would be a completely different and more pressing concern.

He turned to make his way up the rest of the stairs, noticing that pictures were missing off the wall if the stain imprints were anything to go by. He wondered if they were expensive paintings or if they were only memorabilia.

Once he reached upstairs, there was another foyer he discovered and then two hallways.

Taking one, he approached the first door he saw. It was slightly open, revealing a bedroom mostly untouched. The same was true of the other four doors he approached down that hall. They were all sleeping quarters with bathrooms attached. He determined that he and the security team could sleep in these rooms during their stay.

As he made his way back to the foyer, towards the other hallway, he noticed another door. It was large and looming and could only be one of two things.

As he pushed it open, it was exactly as he imagined the library would be like.

Visibility was extremely low since the room only had one small window that was coated in dirt and spiderwebs, but the overwhelming smell of books and old paper was hard to ignore. He flicked on his flashlight and immediately let out a sigh of regret. This room was by far the messiest he had seen. Papers were everywhere and strewn with varying degrees of destruction. Some were ripped, others balled up and crumpled, and then there was the trail that led straight to a fireplace, burned.

Someone had definitely tried to destroy as much information as possible.

He was thankful that all of this was obviously done in a rush, so there was no doubt that not all of the work was completed.

There was something to be found in this room, plenty of "somethings", he just had to buckle down and get to work. There was another door he noticed within the library, right between two massive bookcases. It had to be the second office, and by the looks of it, it seemed to be the fallen general’s main office. Liam was very pleased with that find. Light restoration would be most important in this room and the library, he decided.

He made his way back out into the hall, approaching the last door at the end that was the furthest back. He automatically assumed it was the master bedroom since all the others in the other hall were grand, but the same size as one another.

As he entered, he first noticed a weird smell, not unlike the other rooms that held a stale scent of stagnant air.

This room had that scent but with something else, he couldn’t be sure what it was and his sight was hindered since the curtains were drawn. He moved quietly towards them, letting his senses focus as he pulled out his small twin blades. There was life in this room, but he wasn’t sure what kind of life.

Once he was within reach of the curtains, he flicked them back only a little, letting light into the room so he could see, but not enough to blind himself and whoever was occupying the space with him.

His golden eyes immediately squinted, quickly observing for any signs of threat. There was something alive in that room with him, he was sure of it as he clenched the handles of his blades tighter.

He just had to spot it before it spotted him.

Swiftly, he made out the grandness of the room with the little light seeping in through the parted curtain.

It was as large as a master bedroom could get, with a four-poster king-sized bed, centered.

Even though he scanned the foreground area, he couldn’t see anything, human or animal, so he pulled the curtains open further, revealing that they didn’t cover the actual windows but immaculate double doors that led to an outside balcony.

He glanced behind him again before pulling at the handle, getting the door to give as he walked out into fresh air and sunlight.

The view was beautiful as it overlooked all the fields up to the tree line. And apparently, a lake that was also on the property.

With this unpolluted view, he was beyond sure the general was taken out because he held too much financial power. Knowing how his own clan worked, The Ruling Class was just what it sounded like. It was a class of men, not one man. They, as a unit, ruled over the clan’s followers and its territories. By far, they were the most successful and established clan since they had outposts in over four different galaxies, on an innumerable number of planets.

Their main planet, however, was always Earth. And this man, this general, was obviously a threat even if the clan he was a part of and championed for, was not.

Liam made his way back into the room, leaving the doors open to air out the space, and moved towards the door that he was sure led to an en suite. As he entered through the doors there were articles of torn, skimpy clothing lying around and various items for hygiene cluttered on the faucet tops, but none of that distracted from the ornate design of the bathroom.

The shower was magnificently large and the bath was more like an in-ground mini-pool.

Decadence.

The mansion was big enough to hold the entirety of the Octan fleet comfortably, and this bathroom alone, they would all be happy taking turns using it. Yet, all of this was for one man who didn’t even have a family to share it with?

Shaking his head, he turned to leave the bathroom, his eyes landing on something that he wanted to say couldn’t have been there this entire time.

There on the bed, he was sure, was a person.

Sleeping, perhaps? Dead?

Slowly, he approached, grabbing hold of one of his small blades yet again.

The closer he got, the more his eyes adjusted to what he was seeing.

The person was lying on their front, arms lying limply above their head, with a nest of long brittle black hair cast about their head and face.

He eventually got close enough to stand above the person, allowing him to better see the gold chain attached to the wall behind the railing of the bed, and the collar was latched onto it around the person’s hidden neck.

Gently, he pulled down the covers, exposing a naked back as thin and worrisome as the arms he noticed first.

With extra care, he placed his hands in the middle of the person’s back and felt what he was looking for.

The person was alive, though barely.

He moved to scoop the wayward hair back and out of the person’s face, revealing a sharp side profile.

A woman’s face.