The Segonian Quotes

“Dagon shook his head. “So damn appealing.”

“Aww.” Smiling, she patted his chest. “You used an Earth curse word to describe me. That’s so sweet.”

He laughed. “Appealing and odd,” he qualified.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. I was hoping it would take you longer to figure that last part out.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Grenade, Eliana,” Dagon warned, his voice coming over the comm seconds before an e-grenade sailed past her shoulder.

It detonated as it hit the door.

Flames and sparks and hot air rushed toward her, but didn’t slow her at all as the grenade he’d lobbed blasted a substantial hole in the door.

“Thanks, babe,” she called as she dove through it.

A throat cleared. “Did she just call our commander babe?”

“Shut up,” Dagon retorted.

She laughed. “Would you prefer I call him sugarboo instead?”

“Srul, yes,” Maarev responded as snickers carried over the comm.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“The infirmary door slid up.

Maarev poked his head out. He glanced up and down the hallway, inspected the walls, then focused on Dagon and Eliana, still standing in each other’s arms. He arched a brow. “Just thought I’d check to see if Eliana was out here punching holes in the walls. We have a wager going.”

She offered him a wry smile. “No. Dagon calmed me down.”

A twinkle of amusement entered the warrior’s eyes as he stepped out. “So I see. With a hug, apparently.”

Liden joined them in the hallway. A boyish grin lit his rugged features as he held out his arms. “Need any more calming down?”

She laughed . . . even as a low growl of irritation rumbled up from Dagon’s throat. “No, thank you.” Reluctantly stepping back, she took Dagon’s hand and twined her fingers through his. “We have a saying on Earth: Go big or go home.” She tossed Dagon—the tallest man present—a wink. “I’m going big.”

He grinned.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Helmets up,” Dagon commanded.

Every man present donned a helmet then touched the side of it. A clear window slid down in front, forming a bubble that covered their faces. Hisses sounded as the visors locked with the rest of the helmet.

Dagon met Eliana’s gaze. “You, too. We know the Gathendiens aren’t going to execute a fair trade. We don’t know why they changed their tactics, but they are still hunting you.” He touched her back. “I don’t want you to be harmed by tengonis or any other gasses they may hurl at us.”

“Okay,” she replied somberly. “But I don’t think any gas they hurl at me could be more noxious than Maarev’s after he eats mamitwa.”

The men all laughed.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Maarev winked. “I say we let them dock then hurl Eliana at them and let her kill them all while the rest of us sit back, relax, and eat what’s left of the jarumi nuggets.”

She laughed. “No way, buddy. Those jarumi nuggets are mine.”

The big warrior chuckled. “I notice you didn’t object to the killing part.”

“Because jarumi nuggets mean more to me than Gathendiens.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Curiosity bombarded him. “How did you know he wasn’t alone?”

“Who?”

“Maarev. How did you know he wasn’t alone in the training room?”

She winked up at him. “I’ll tell you after I spar with some of your men. I love it when opponents underestimate me.”

He smiled. “I imagine many underestimate you. Despite the confidence with which you comport yourself, you appear very fragile.”

“But I kick a lot of ass,” she boasted with a grin.

He laughed. “I’m sure you do.” And he looked forward to watching her do it.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Every time Eliana grinned or chuckled, warmth suffused him and stretched his lips in a smile. And every time she bumped his arm with her shoulder or nudged him with her elbow, little tingles raced along his flesh and stole his breath. How would she respond if he suddenly interrupted her and told her she made him feel like a youth experiencing his first infatuation?

That he felt young at all amazed him. His arduous climb up the chain of command had been a long one peppered with both wins AND losses that had taken their toll. Yet now, as Eliana nudged him again with her elbow and stared up at him with her pretty brown eyes full of amusement, he fought the desire to reach out, twine his fingers through hers, and swing their arms between them in a rare boyish burst of joy.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Reaching across the table, he clasped Eliana’s free hand.

She gave it a grateful squeeze. “Not much of a dinner companion, am I? I’ve barely said a thing all evening.”

He smoothed his thumb across her soft skin. “Quiet doesn’t trouble me when I’m with you, MILESSIA.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“His heart stuttered to a halt, then began to slam against his ribs. The first gentle brush of her lips hit him like an electrical current. His breath caught. Hers did, too. She drew back a fraction to stare up at him with wide eyes that acquired an amber glow.

Then Dagon slid his arms around her and locked her against him. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips with greater urgency, letting her feel the heat that had been flaying him inside ever since she had walked onto his bridge, fully recovered from her wounds, and drawn him into a hug.

Moaning, she parted her lips.

Dagon slipped his tongue inside to stroke hers, deepening the kiss, teasing and tantalizing until she inched even closer.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“You aren’t going to insist that you and the guys go in—guns blazing—while I remain behind, are you?”

“DREK no.”

She studied him intently. “Really?”

He nodded. “After seeing the strength you displayed earlier and the skills you exhibited while training with my men, not to mention the amazing speed you revealed while leaping up to the escape pod’s hatch . . .” His lips quirked up. “I’m not at all reluctant to admit you’re our greatest asset, Eliana. Unless you object to us using you as a weapon . . .”

“Hell no, I don’t object,” she declared, thrilled that he valued her skills. “Just point me in the right direction.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Emotion threatened to swamp her. Eliana was so damn grateful to have Dagon in her life now, to have found him against such astounding odds. Reaching up, she curled a hand around the nape of his neck and drew him down to claim his lips in a hard kiss that conveyed gratitude, determination, and caring all at once.

Fire raced through her body as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her up onto her toes, locking her form to his.

She broke the kiss on a gasp. “So we’re in this together?”

“We’re in this together,” he confirmed, leaving no doubt of his commitment.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“No one waited in line at the counter, thanks to Dagon and Eliana’s tardy entry.

“Morning, Kusgan,” she trilled when the elder Segonian stepped up to the counter.

Kusgan greeted her with a wide smile. “And how are you today, ni’má?”

“Hungry,” she declared. “What do you have for me? Something spicy, I hope?”

“Indeed.” When Kusgan turned his attention to Dagon, his eyes sparkled with amusement as though he had guessed just how and with whom she had worked up an appetite. “And for you, Commander?”

“The usual.”

His lips twitched. “A larger portion perhaps?”

Dagon laughed. “I would appreciate that, yes.”

Heat crept up her neck to her cheeks. As Kusgan turned away and headed into the kitchen, she leaned closer to Dagon and whispered, “Am I blushing? Because I feel like he’s guessed why I’m so hungry and you’re all smiles this morning.”

He regarded her cheeks with a grin. “Yes, you’re blushing.”

Groaning, she brought her hands up to cover her face. “Curse my pale skin,” she grumbled. “It won’t let me hide anything.”

“Would it make you feel better if Iblushed?”

She peeked up at him through her fingers. And as she watched, his cheeks flushed a vivid pink, demonstrating anew his ability to change his coloring at will.

Laughing in delight, she dropped her hands. “Yes!” Then she poked him in the chest as the heat in her own cheeks faded. “I dare you to walk around like that all day.”

Smiling, he abandoned the pink camouflage and let his face return to its natural color. “If I did, the men would get no work done because they’d all be too busy wondering what the srulyou did in bed that left me blushing for hours afterward.”

Eyes widening, she laughed. “You’re right. Don’t do it.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Dagon studied her, trying to ignore the unconsciously smooth sway of her hips and focus instead on the myriad of questions that mentally bombarded him.

She glanced up and caught him staring. “What?”

“You aren’t at all intimidated by my soldiers, are you?”

“No. Should I be?”

“They are all fierce warriors.”

She grinned. “I am, too.”

Had she been another, he might have laughed. She seemed so small and delicate. But he knew what she had been through, what she had suffered and survived. He’d read the accounts of the Lasarans who credited her with saving their lives. And she had incapacitated Adaos while so weak she could barely stand.

He thought fierce an apt description for her.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Dagon left his office and made his way down to the infirmary.

Adaos looked up when he entered.

Eliana lay curled on her side, covered by a sheet. Though dark wavy tresses hid much of her face, she appeared to be sleeping deeply.

“She still rests,” Adaos murmured.

“Her injuries?”

“All damage to her skeletal system has healed completely. Some of the damage to her musculature and skin has as well. The damage to her organs is still repairing.”

“Did you give her a silna to accelerate her healing?” Even with the serum, it would take Segonian warriors longer to recuperate from such wounds.

Adaos shook his head. “A silna wasn’t necessary. Her ability to repair and regenerate rivals that of the Sectas with their nanodocs.”

“Amazing.” Dagon crouched next to the bed. Reaching out, he gently drew the hair back from Eliana’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “She’s too thin,” he whispered, noting the prominent cheekbones. Though the burns had healed, some of the cuts and bruising remained. “Did you provide her with sustenance before she fell asleep?”

“Yes. I also fed her fluids and nutrition intravenously.”

“She doesn’t like needles.”

“She slept through it.”

Eliana’s eyelashes fluttered. Her lids rose, revealing deep brown eyes bereft of the amber glow. She studied him a moment, then offered him a sleepy smile. One small hand burrowed out from under the covers and stretched toward him. Soft fingers came to rest on his cheek and stroked the stubble there. “Dagon.”

Warmth unfurled in his chest at the tender touch. His pulse picked up its pace. “Eliana.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“She lowered the blade an inch, bringing it close enough that his lashes brushed it when he blinked. “I’m the one who stopped you. And I’ll stop you again if you even try to harm us with senshi or any other crap in your telepathic arsenal. You don’t know me and may not fear me, but you should. You do not want to make an enemy of me. These men are my friends. I care about them. If you so much as give them a mild headache I will inflict pain upon you like you have never experienced before.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Everything within him went still. “Segonian courtship rituals?” he repeated softly. “Why would you wish to know more about that?”

She sighed. “Because I couldn’t find anything about it in your informational databases, and I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” Reaching up, she rested her small hands on his stubbled cheeks, then rose onto her toes and drew him down for a kiss.

His heart stuttered to a halt, then began to slam against his ribs. The first gentle brush of her lips hit him like an electrical current. His breath caught. Hers did, too. She drew back a fraction to stare up at him with wide eyes that acquired an amber glow.

Then Dagon slid his arms around her and locked her against him. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips with greater urgency, letting her feel the heat that had been flaying him inside ever since she had walked onto his bridge, fully recovered from her wounds, and drawn him into a hug.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Shields at fifty-four percent,” the computer announced in the same pleasant female voice.

Eliana sped through the corridors, helping every man and woman she came across get to an escape pod. As she did, she noted crewmembers hustling to put out a fire.

This can’t be happening.

She passed some of her fellow immortals as they too worked their asses off to get as many people as they could into pods. As the number of Lasarans she came across began to dwindle, Eliana detoured toward Engine Room 1.

“What the drek are you doing?” someone shouted behind her.

“Shields at thirty-two percent,” the calm computer voice announced.

Eliana turned to find Ganix running toward her. “All of my people are in the pods!” she yelled over the noise

Boom. Boom. Boom.

“Why aren’t you with them?” he shouted.

“They’re safe! I want to help! What can I do?”

“Shields at twenty percent,” the calm female voice announced.

“Nothing!” Ganix shouted. “Get to a pod!”

“I can help!” she insisted. “Just tell me what to do!” Whatever they needed, she could do a hell of a lot faster than they could.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Ifs keep us fighting in untenable situations.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Dagon?”

“Yes, Eliana.”

“Don’t forget me.”

“There is little chance of that,” he murmured just before darkness claimed her.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“I told Adaos he could study me and I would share everything I know about the virus and my species with him if he would share something with me,” Eliana admitted.

Dagon crossed his arms over his chest. “And what might that be?”

Pink crept up her neck and filled her cheeks as she shuffled her feet, looking sheepish as srul, and muttered something he couldn’t hear.

“What?”

Emitting a growl of her own, she spoke louder. “Information on Segonian courtship rituals and the societal do's and don'ts that surround them." She peeked up at him through long dark lashes as though trying to gauge his reaction.

Everything within him went still. “Segonian courtship rituals?” he repeated softly. “Why would you wish to know more about that?”

She sighed. “Because I couldn’t find anything about it in your informational databases, and I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” Reaching up, she rested her small hands on his stubbled cheeks, then rose onto her toes and drew him down for a kiss.

His heart stuttered to a halt, then began to slam against his ribs. The first gentle brush of her lips hit him like an electrical current. His breath caught. Hers did, too. She drew back a fraction to stare up at him with wide eyes that acquired an amber glow.

Then Dagon slid his arms around her and locked her against him. Dipping his head, he claimed her lips with greater urgency, letting her feel the heat that had been flaying him inside ever since she had walked onto his bridge, fully recovered from her wounds, and drawn him into a hug.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“Eliana stepped into her room and turned to face him.
Anticipation usurped amusement’s place as Dagon stared down at her, waiting for her nightly hug.
Perhaps tonight he would linger and—

“Greetings, Eliana,” CC said in her serene voice.
Blinking, she glanced over her shoulder, then up at the ceiling. “Hi, CC.”

Dagon hid his amusement at her tendency to look up whenever she addressed the computer.

“You have one communication awaiting your attention,” CC announced.

Eliana looked at Dagon. “Is that like a phone message?”

He considered his translator’s definition of PHONE. “Yes.”

“Did YOU send it?”

“No.”

“Who did?”

A good question. Who on this ship believed they knew Eliana well enough to message her privately? His brows drew down. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe Anat has reconsidered giving me flight lessons.”

He stared at her. After Dagon, Anat was the most experienced and highest-ranked fighter pilot on the ship. Dagon knew that most of the men stationed on the RANASURA thought their commander grim and foreboding. But Dagon appeared downright ebullient when compared to Anat.

“You asked Anat to give you flight lessons?” To borrow one of Eliana’s Earth terms: that had been ballsy.

“Yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “But he said no. The other pilots warned me he’d refuse, but I figured I’d give it a try anyway.”

He tried to hold back his next question but failed. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

Her brow furrowed. “You mean ask your permission? Was I supposed to do that first?”

“No. Why didn’t you ask ME to give you flight lessons?” He understood her fierce drive to learn everything she possibly could that might aid her in the future but inwardly balked at the image of Eliana and Anat crowded together in a flight simulator.

“Oh. Because you’re . . . you know.” She motioned to his uniform. “The commander. You run the ship. You have more important things to do.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Aaaaand I didn’t want to wear out my welcome.”

Confused, he glanced down at the deck.

“Why are you looking at my boots?” she asked.

“According to my translator, WEAR OUT MY WELCOME means eroding through frequent use the surface of a mat with the word WELCOME printed on it that Earthlings place outside their doors.”

She grinned. “Your translator got it wrong. Wear out my welcome means . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Make a nuisance of myself, I guess. I’ve already insinuated myself into a significant portion of your day, Dagon.” Her smile dimmed a bit as uncertainty crept into her features. “I didn’t want you to get tired of having me around all the time.”

So while he had sought any and every excuse to spend MORE time with her, she had worried he might want LESS? He took a step closer to her. “I believe the likelihood of that is nonexistent.”

Her eyes dilated as his shadow fell over her. “Really?” she asked softly.

“Really.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian

“She winked up at him. “I love it when opponents underestimate me.”

He smiled. “I imagine MANY underestimate you. Despite the confidence with which you comport yourself, you appear very fragile.”

“But I kick a LOT of ass,” she boasted with a grin.

He laughed. “I’m sure you do.” And he looked forward to watching her kick it.”
― Dianne Duvall, The Segonian