The Great Father, Derkon, announced that he would make an opening statement and then throw things open for debate. He said, “The latest information from our probes in the Novi region confirm that a large number of ships have left the Riaz homeworld and are heading towards the sphere of human habitation. We are assuming this is an invasion fleet. Our covert probes in the Riaz system ceased transmitting several weeks ago and we assume that they have been discovered and destroyed. Their last communications revealed that the Riaz had stopped referring to we human beings after the ship that destroyed the Helvans was captured. We assume that they did not want this information to become public knowledge. This would be because their opinion of us is that we are primitives and that they are the supreme life-forms of the galaxy. Our probes also told us that Riaz military activity had increased significantly since the Halven incident. This seems to have culminated with the launch of this fleet which is approximately ten days from Old Earth. As Commander in Chief of Old Earth forces I can also inform you that my best military advice is that we do not have the number of ships required to counter this invasion.” He looked around the raised hands. “I recognise the delegate from Tortis.”
A round, bald, man, bursting out of his uniform, stood up. “Lord General Alexord of the Tortis Defence Force. Great father, do we have sufficient ships to evacuate Old Earth?”
“Buffoon!” the Halven commander, a redheaded woman, bellowed, “if we don’t have enough ships to fight, we don’t have the ships to run.”
Another man, in civilian attire, stood. “Chief Delegate Lookin of Tortis. Could you confirm, Great Father, that it is expected that the Riaz will use planetary bombardment as a method of attack as they believe our android forces are far superior in physical strength to them?”
“That is so, Lookin of Tortis,” the Great Father agreed.
The Halven butted in again. “Why then was so much time and effort spent on building android warriors when we knew they would attack from the skies?”
Cries of agreement were enthusiastically raised and Derkon waited till they had died away. “We are working on assumptions, ladies and gentlemen. Our early information told us that the Riaz like to fight hand-to-hand and so we had to prepare for that eventuality. We did so with the production of advanced combat androids as humans could not match up to the Riaz. However, we have now developed powered armor and that puts things onto a more level playing field. Those suits are now being mass produced and will be made available to your troops with appropriate training. Now, after Halven, we assume that the Riaz would forego hand to hand combat and would attack their victims from orbit and we were therefore required to build warships to defend our planets. We have tried to maintain an even balance with these matters, but the fact remains that as things stand, we do not have enough ships to defend Old Earth or any other of the Twelve Worlds from this threat.”
“Why this Council of War then,” the Baralan asked, “are we to show a united front in surrender?”
Immediately a huge hubbub of noise arose as the delegates jumped to their feet and started arguing with each other. Admiral Thrane climbed calmly onto his chair, drew his sidearm, and fired a sequence of shots through the Assembly Hall’s windows. The noise, as the glass shattered, was deafening and brought everybody to their senses.
Thrane continued standing on the chair, and kept the gun in his hand. “Admiral Thrane, of the Pendoran Navy,” he introduced himself. “I propose that every able ship launches immediately to face the Riaz fleet. The aim is not to stop them, for we know we cannot, but to divert them from Old Earth. We need Old Earth, with its shipyards and factories to construct more warships and androids. If we can point our enemies towards another target, we may buy some time.”
“Suicide!” the Halven roared, “and I’ll not sacrifice my world before any other!”
“Coward!” Thrane bellowed in reply.
Simla sat cross-legged and smiling. She looked across at her father and noticed that he looked even more drained than before. If these fools didn’t stop bickering they’d put the old man in his grave, and wasn’t about to allow that. She gave Shap his orders with a nod.
He stepped forward from behind his mistress and spoke in a voice that no human could match for volume. “I am Shap,” he said as they all fell silent, “and I am the only one of you who has faced the Riaz in battle. Will you listen to my words?”
They settled, though there were mumbles of ‘android upstart’ as they subsided.
“Android perhaps,” the metal man boomed, “but I have put my existence at risk to defend humanity and which of you can say the same. No, do not cry ‘programming’ for I am a sentient being and I can make choices. I have a sense of humor and I still intend to act as best man to the First Minister of Pendor when he weds, which will be after this war is over. I do not intend to be a best man and a slave to the Riaz at the same time. Listen to me now and I will tell you how the Riaz can be defeated.”
“Who put you up to this, android?” somebody shouted.
“My mistress, Simla, Princess of Old Earth, wrote the words I speak. But this was only after I had told her how to destroy our enemies.”
“Why did you tell her this?”
“Because she asked me,” Shap answered flatly.
“And what kind of expert are you, when we have vast banks of computers calculating strategy as we speak?”
“And how many of these computers have held a Riaz warrior by the throat?”
“Let him speak!” someone piped up and others joined in the encouragement.
“Very well,” Shap agreed, “Please be seated and silent. What I am about to say may sound like fantasy, but from what I have experienced I predict a seventy eight per cent chance of success. Now, bear these things in mind. When my mistress and I attacked the Riaz ship they were unprepared. They have no knowledge of stealth tactics because their entire culture tells them that honor is won through open battle. That is how we were able to approach and enter their ship. Now, our theorists say that they will not be vulnerable to such subterfuge and will fire on anything that appears to approach them. This, I would agree with. But, it does not mean that we should prepare planetary defences before we can come to grips with them, merely that we must become more stealthy, more clever, more sneaky if you will in our approach to them.” He stopped suddenly, turned and returned to his position behind Simla. There was a silence that lingered for a while before the Halven woman jumped to her feet again, “So, what’s your plan, android?”
“The Riaz will not allow us to approach them so we must have them come to us.”
As they trooped from the Hall with the meeting over, Yaf grabbed Simla’s arm and pulled her aside. “That was never Shap’s plan, that was Simla’s plan.”
“You clever boy,” she answered disarmingly.
“But how did you get him to do it?”
“You didn’t expect Shap to be able to tell lies and neither did the rest of the delegates.”
“Androids can’t lie, nobody would program them that way.”
“Unless they wanted to. But Shap must take some of the credit, it was something he said that set me off on the train of thought that led to all this.”
He gripped her biceps and shoved her gently against a wall. “So, tell me this pearl of wisdom.”
“He said to me once, ‘We are all slaves of our programming,’ and it took me a while to understand what he meant, but once I got it, everything fell into place. We’re all programmed, one way or the other, even the Riaz.”
Yaf let go of her and stepped back in admiration. “Sometimes your wisdom amazes me, Princess.”
“And I thought it was just my ass,” she replied with a wink.
“Oh, that too, but you have more than one outstanding asset. Listen, Simla, this war is going to put us both in harm’s way. I might fall in battle, you might be hit by fire from orbit. We don’t know what our future holds. I think we have to seize the day and make the most of what time we might have left.
There’s no sense in trying to second guess the future, when there might not even be a future for the human race.”
Simla laughed, “Save the speech, Yaf, you want some pussy.”
He looked suitably embarrassed, “Very much so.”
“You want hot Simla’s sweet little pussy right now because you think we might lose this war and you’ll never get another chance.”
Yaf looked round at the retreating crowd. “Well, not right now.”
“It’s a common urge in wartime, the need to marry, to have sex, to breed and guarantee the continuation of the race.”
“Actually I was just feeling very horny.”
Simla’s face turned to stone. “The answer is no, Yaf. I desperately want to make love to you but I will not accept the possibility of defeat. We will marry after we have won this war.”
Her heart dropped as she looked at his crestfallen face. “Oh, my sweet, we will not fail. Trust Simla’s Plan.”
“I have to, it’s the only one we have,” he replied coldly.
“What are the flaws?”
“It’s assuming the Riaz are stupid. What if they’ve out-thought us and see through your little scheme?”
“Because they don’t have cunning. They’ve been so dominant they don’t need it.”
“I don’t buy that. Even lions, the most powerful creatures on the African plains, work in conjunction and use strategies to bring down their prey.”
“Fair comment, but you’re leaving out some factors. Lions only use cunning when they’re going up against prey that might fight back and damage them in their attack. The Riaz don’t fear us.”
“They fear Shap and his kin.”
“Which is why they won’t come to close quarters and go hand to hand with our androids. Their ships out-gun us so they’ll tackle our defenders from distance before closing on Old Earth and pounding us into surrender.”
“That’s fine in theory, but ..”
“But what? It’s a stupid plan thought up by a pampered Princess of old Earth who knows nothing about war? There is not a human being alive who’s fought in a war, Yaf. That’s why holding a Council of War was such a joke.”
“Your plan got their backing but things can go wrong during battles, mistakes are made, machinery fails, communications are missed …”
“Dear God, Yaf,” Simla growled, “that’s the kind of thinking that’s been holding us back. This inability to take a risk, I’d hoped for better from you.”
“There is bravery and there is foolhardy.”
“And what options do we have? Do you want to evacuate the nobility like the Paerets wanted?”
“Of course not, that was a stupid suggestion.” His shoulders sagged. “Maybe I’m just not as brave as you, Simla.”
“You’re man enough to admit it as a possibility, and that’ll do me. I know you’re worried about things going belly-up, Yaf, I am too, but we’ll have men and women going into combat and risking their lives, so we’ve got to be strong for them.”
Again, he looked shame-faced. “You make me feel very small.”
She grinned, in an attempt to lift his profile. “Come over for dinner tonight and we’ll talk some more.”
Before that, she had another vital task to perform.
“It has to be Thrane,” she told her father.
The old man plucked at his sleeves. “The Pendoran? He’s old and they’ve only got one antique ship.”
“Thrane’s smart. I saw him in action at Halven.”
“Where, if I recall, the Pendoran ship never fired a shot.”
“Exactly. These other idiots would have charged in with their heads full of imagined glory and lost their ships, but Thrane held the Robin back. He knew the Halven had their own battle drill and he didn’t want to interfere.”
“The others will never allow him to lead the fleet.”
“They’ll listen to the Great Father.”
Derkon laughed at his daughter’s confidence. “And what words will I use to convince them.”
Simla hadn’t thought of that and took a moment to seek a solution. Finally, her brain clicked into gear. “The Robin’s fast and this strategy requires speed rather than muscle. The defensive perimeter has to break and head for the Riaz ships before they have time to realise what’s happening. Admiral Thrane’s the man for that.”
Derkon lounged back in the favourite armchair he liked to call his throne. “And when did you start running this war, young lady?”
“Since the Council accepted my plan of action.”
“Your plan?” the Great Father exploded, but then a slow look of comprehension swept over his face. “You are your father’s daughter, Simla. Well played.”
“I try my best.”
Derkon stroked his chin. “It’s a good plan, a very good plan.”
“Yaf has doubts, he thinks it’s impetuous.”
“Well, you have a reputation for that, my daughter. But this time I think your wild flights of fancy have some merit. I take it you’ve checked out all the technical difficulties?”
“Went through it line by line with Elfi and she was the one that came up with the seventy eight per cent probability of success. And that’s allowing a huge contingency for any Riaz initiative.”
“And I assume you intend to be on one of the attack ships in your fancy powered armor?”
“You bet!”
“So a Princess of Old Earth will lead our troops into battle after all,” the old man said proudly.
“A Princess of Old Earth will lead us to victory,” she corrected.
The Great Father beamed. “Do you need any strings pulled to get onto one of our troop ships?”
“I’d thought of asking Admiral Thrane if I could go with the Pendorans on the Robin.”
“You want to be with Yaf.”
“He is my man, Dad.”
“So you seem to have decided. He is a good man.”
Simla saddened. “I know, and I’ve hurt him.”
“Simla?” her father asked plaintively, “that’s not your nature.”
“It was my pride,” she explained, “my own self-centred, pig-headedness. I was so full of my wonderful plan that I couldn’t see anybody question it without criticising me.”
Derkon relaxed. “That is not a fatal flaw and easily remedied with an apology.”
“You are a wise man, Father.”
“And I have a wise daughter, she will do what she knows she has to do.”
Which is why, the moment Yaf entered her front door, Simla said, “I’m a bitch.”
“I wouldn’t say that, though you have your moments,” he replied, peeling off his tunic and hanging it on a hook. They walked into the lounge and embraced briefly.
“I didn’t listen to you when you posed questions about my plan. That was childish. And because of that I rejected your request that we marry before the battle. That was unforgivable. You expressed your love for me and I resorted to my ego trip.”
“So, you’re not perfect. Thank God for that.”
“I should be punished.” She lifted her kilt, pulled her tights over the rich roundness of her bottom and bent over the back of a couch. “Spank me.”
“Simla, behave.”
“No, I need to be punished. Spank me. Spank me and then fuck me.”
Yaf ignored her little display and slumped down on a couch. “Wrong time, wrong place, honey, I’m not in the mood to play.”
She pulled her tights up and came over to sit beside him. “Pre-battle jitters, I’ve got them too. What we’re about to do makes you want to curl up and climb back into your mother’s womb, right? Scary times.”
He reached an arm around her shoulder and pulled her head down onto his chest. “I don’t fear death, Simla, I just regret not being able to do all the things I wanted to do.”
“Only if the worst happens, my love. I, for one, will not rest till these pestilent Riaz are sent scurrying back to their lair.”
Yaf stroked her long black hai
r before bending down and kissing her.
“Hold me, Yaf.”
He pulled her to him and they kissed.
“I’m tired,” Yaf said, “This gravity ..” and his eyes closed. Simla let him drift off and then stood up and stretched him out on the couch. She dimmed the lights and brought a blanket from a cupboard which she draped over him. Then, on an impulse, she slipped under the blanket with him and pulled him into her arms.
Somewhere, in the night and as they slept, she awoke and felt his hard penis poking into her belly. She was still half asleep, but she tugged her tights off, unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free. She massaged it lovingly with one hand before slipping it between her thighs. It was warm and smooth and felt nice against her pussy. She drifted off again.
Unconsciously she lifted a thigh and draped it over his hip. Later, but still in the night, his cock slipped into her body and remained there revelling in its given place.
They awoke as dawn was breaking, face to face, and Simla smiled. “I seem to have a rather large part of your body inside mine.”
“You’ve taken advantage of me,” he complained.
“It feels good,” she confessed, “no, don’t move.”
They clung to each other, enjoying this sheer closeness, this thing their bodies were made for. But they both knew, by the strength of the blood that coursed through their veins that it could not last forever. The universe made its demands and slowly, ever so slowly, they began moving against each other. As fuckings go it was a gentle affair with Yaf’s engorged cock sliding only a few inches in and out of Simla’s honeyed passage, but there was enough contact against her clit to give her a little gasping orgasm. This excited Yaf and he tried to achieve deeper penetration but it was awkward in the position they were in. Simla took the initiative and pulled her mate over her. Her knees came up and he plunged deep into her body. She held his handsome face in her hands as he thrust repeatedly into her and now she came again and again, howling in triumph and shoving her hips up to him till, at last, he erupted inside the woman he had chosen to be his wife, Princess Simla of Old Earth.
Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla Page 14
