The commander of the moon base looked up from his cluttered desk and focused hard on the junior officer standing at rigid attention before him. "Have I what?"

"Sir, the fifth planet is missing--sort of." The junior officer winced but did not retreat.

Commander Traya considered the officer's youthful leonine features and almond-shaped amber eyes. Twenty years ago that face could have been his, as well as the obvious fear of a superior officer. "Get to the point," Traya said in a calm but authoritative tone.

"Sir, the fifth planet is now an asteroid field. Here's the latest recon." The junior officer handed over a flat, palm-sized computer.

Traya sensed hesitation. "And?"

"Sir, we checked the logs on Princess Shelay's private cruiser. It seems her highness has taken several unauthorized flights recently."

Activating the tiny computer, Traya perused the report. The more he saw, the angrier he became. Tapered claws drummed out rhythmic impatience on the smooth desktop. His feral fangs tingled, as a low-pitched growl rumbled up from his throat. Chewing on a colorful expletive, Traya bolted from his chair and gave a sharp wave of dismissal. "I'll take care of this myself."

"Yes, sir." The junior officer returned a crisp salute and exited the room.

With the small computer clutched in his huge hand, Traya walked across the octagonal chamber and gazed through a thick window. A blue cloud-covered planet revolved just off the shoulder of the ashen horizon and dragged its solitary moon along in a gentle dance.

When Traya had first accepted this outpost, he had borrowed a word from one of that blue planet's primitive tribes and called this assignment "Project Terra." For the last few months he and his officers have kept busy, setting up research stations and gathering essential data. Only yesterday Traya had hoped for a little excitement within this primitive solar system. However, what he saw on that computer report flew light-years beyond excitement.

"Shelay!"

Traya's deep voice echoed through the domed private residence that adjoined the military complex. His long, heavy strides rang on carpet-covered metal flooring. Soon he thundered into a dimly lit room and stood at the end of an enormous bed.

Seductive and beautiful, Princess Shelay lounged among tangled silken sheets. Amber eyes blinked, fluttering thick lashes. Long white fangs showed even when her mouth was closed. Lustrous black hair hung in ringlet curls over her shoulders. Sheer lace molded to her curvaceous form, and invisible pheromones roamed the room like a hungry fog.

"Did you finally decide to come to bed?" Her voice was a sensual purr.

Traya bared his fangs and raised his claws. He did not know whether to strangle his royal wife or sexually devour her. Deciding neither would be appropriate at that moment, he sat on the end of the bed and waved the compact computer containing that damnable report.

"Are you trying to get me fired?"

The turn of Shelay's head and the softness of her expression indicated a profound lack of concern. "They can't fire you. I won't let them."

"Even a princess can go too far." Traya activated the hand-held computer and pushed the small screen toward Shelay's face. "What do you call that?"

"Cosmic sculpture. I think I'm getting quite good at it."

"Really?" Traya punched the advance key and queued up another reconnaissance video. "See that asteroid field, my dear? That used to be the fifth planet."

Shelay rolled a shoulder and shook back bouncy hair. "Okay, I admit I made a little boo-boo on that one. But it was a dead planet. Nobody got hurt. And it didn't cause any orbital shifts. Well, not any worth mentioning."

"And what about the fourth planet? What is that in the middle of my research pyramids?"

"Oh, the red planet. Didn't that turn out nice? It's really you, my love."

"But it shouldn't be me!" Traya sucked in a deep breath and released it in a slow exhale, willing himself to remain reasonably calm. He glanced at the small computer screen and moaned in frustration. A mile-high stone carving of his face now stared up from the surface of the red planet.

"Why, Shelay? Just why? What made you do something like this? You know the Empress has a special interest in this project."

"And I have a special interest in you," Shelay piped back with sultry drama.

"No more lazer sculpture," Traya ordered. "Do you hear me? You have to stop putting faces on planets."

"Including the third planet?"

"The third planet?" Traya repeated in a shaky voice, and then turned his attention to the hand-held computer. Long claws clicked across the keypad. In a moment the screen displayed the most recent video report of the third planet, the one called Terra. Traya's mischievous mate had placed an enormous stone sculpture right in the middle of his research pyramids. His mouth fell open, and his eyes forgot to blink. "You put my face on the third planet? Shelay, that one's inhabited."

"Not by anything intelligent." She crawled forward and rubbed a shoulder against his. "See? I put your face on an animal's body right next to the observation pyramid. Isn't that clever? I think it's just stunning."

Traya jumped to his feet. "Take it off right now! I mean it. Right now."

"Well, I can't. It seems the primitives have already found it. I guess that sort of makes you their new god. Now they can worship you as I do." She offered a deep shrug followed by a soft, enticing growl.

Rubbing his face with his free hand, Traya tried to absorb the shock. "Then change it. Re-carve the face. Make it look like one of them or something. I don't care. But get my face off of there before the Empress finds out. And when you're done, consider yourself grounded. Princess or not, I'm taking that space ship away from you."

"I was just bored," Shelay whined, lying back on silken sheets.

"Do you realize the damage you may have done to those primitives?" Traya accused, anger heating his cheeks.

"And what about the damage you've done with your research pyramids and all those recon parties? What must those primitives think? That the gods are visiting them perhaps?"

"I--I never thought of it that way." Traya was stunned by the accusation that his research might in some way be harmful. He glanced at image on the hand-held computer and then leveled his gaze on his beautiful, cunning wife. "You tricked me."

"No, I just helped you see things more clearly, Love," Shelay replied with a flowing shrug. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Do?" Traya tapped the small computer against his thigh. "I'm closing the project. Let's go home."

Shelay offered a smug, feral smile.

"Cosmic sculpture," Traya grumbled. "I don't know how I'm going to put THAT in my report."

Author Bio

Terri Branson is a Chickamauga Cherokee who decorates her "writing room" with a mixture of Native American art and cross-stitched dragons, while two cats fight her for the computer chair. Her first novel, Musk Rain, a paranormal romance, is scheduled for release October 1999 from Starlight Writer Publications.

As well as being a multi-published poet, she edited the 1996 Oklahoma City bombing book We Will Never Forget and served two years as the editor of her tribal newsletter. Her feature writing articles "When Romance Meets Science Fiction" and "The Well-Crafted Ghost" appeared in recent issues of ByLine Magazine.

"Reality is never about just one thing," she says. "It's a dance of opposites. Trying to balance the spiritual with the physical is what makes life so much fun."

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