by Tristan Vick
At the same time, Dagons were larger than standard Earth humans, standing an average of six feet five inches. Even the women. Many of them had tall, pointy-tipped ears, like real-life elves; while others had diminished features, like a subtle crest.
During her time on Thessalonica, Jegra had noticed that all of the Dagon women who had made personal visits to her chambers after her bouts had an aristocratic air about them. Dagon women were notoriously well groomed. Their skin tended to be a slightly lighter hue of blue than their darker male counterparts. And, unlike the males, Dagon women were all hermaphrodites. A strange, vestigial trait of their evolutionary past. But unlike the males, who had two penises, the females only had one, which somehow retracted up into the cervix when it wasn’t needed.
It was rumored that the Dagon people had been maintaining their empire for so long that the numerous wars had taken their toll on the males of the species and had decimated their gender’s numbers so severely that females had begun to adapt by first parthenogenesis and then by taking on male characteristics, including developing their own male organs.
But, still, it was all just rumor. Whether or not this trait really was the byproduct of three thousand years of imperialistic warmongering or if some other factor had spurred their strange reproductive evolution, Jegra did not know. Not that it mattered to her, either way. Both the Dagon men and women made excellent lovers, regardless of their appearance.
It was no secret; Jegra was fond of the blue-bloods, as the other races called them. Dagon women had insatiably carnal appetites. And Jegra enjoyed helping them quench their thirst, so to speak, after a bloody bout in the arena.
Besides, as champion, she was allowed all the sex and alcohol she could desire. And she kept it flowing freely as it helped her to take her mind off the horrors of her kills.
If she was being honest with herself, although she excelled at fighting, the killing came far too easily for her lately. And not in the good kind of way, either. If not for the inebriated orgies she partook in almost every night, she was positive that visions of the dead, conjured up from her guilty subconscious, would drive her to madness. So, she soaked her guilt in booze and kept her inner demons at bay.
After a long silence, Vice Admiral Cassera finally glanced over at Jegra and asked, “Where’s your friend? The one you told me you’d be bringing this evening.”
A lump formed in Jegra’s throat and she swallowed hard. “There was a complication,” she replied, doing her best to keep a poker face and her emotions in check.
She knew that grand displays of emotion were viewed by the Dagon people as a kind of mental illness. The calmer and more collected you were, the better standing you had with them. Although, they did display hints of emotion, but it was extremely subtle.
“She couldn’t make it,” Jegra said in a cool voice.
“I’ll be sure to inform the cook,” Cassera said.
Jegra continued following the vice admiral up one corridor and down another until she was thoroughly lost. The Dreadnaught was the largest ship in the fleet and it was a veritable labyrinth. She couldn’t have found her way out in a year, she’d been turned around more times than she could count.
She suspected the labyrinthine interior of the ship was a deliberate architectural choice. It was much like the roads leading to and from Japanese castles back on Earth, which always twisted and bent around backwards to confound invading enemies and lead them away from the main castle.
“Are you sure we haven’t passed this exact same corridor?” Jegra asked aloud. “Because it seems we’ve been past this point before.”
“No,” Cassera answered. “This is a different section of the ship.”
“Are you sure? Because I can’t make heads or tails of this place.”
Without looking back, Cassera replied, “Unlike your species, my people have a superior memory.”
Jegra raised an eyebrow. Considering that she was probably the only human Cassera had ever met, it was highly unlikely she knew all that much about human physiology. It rather seemed like a personal put down, if you asked her.
“May I ask you something, Vice Admiral?” Jegra asked.
Cassera nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Why don’t you like me? Have I done something to offend you in some way?”
Cassera stopped in the middle of the passage and turned to face Jegra. “It’s not that I don’t like you; in fact, I respect your prowess as a warrior. But I don’t trust you.”
“You mean you don’t trust me with him.”
“Lord Dakroth can take care of himself. But when he’s with you, he is vulnerable. And that makes you dangerous.”
“I’m not going to hurt your precious blue-skinned leader,” Jegra said, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
“I know,” Cassera replied, a hint of a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “I’ll see to that.”
“By doing what?”
“By watching your every move,” Cassera asserted, her jaw tightening.
“You’re free to watch us fuck, if you like!” Jegra fired back.
“I already do,” Cassera answered.
“Oh,” Jegra said, rubbing the back of her neck as she took in the information. She thought about the numerous times she and the emperor had shared one another’s company, thinking they were alone, but, apparently, were being watched by Cassera.
“So, let me get this straight. You’ve been watching me, in the privacy of my own chambers, for over a year?” Jegra asked, feeling the back of her neck starting to get warm as her temper began to heat up.
“It was a necessary precaution,” Cassera stated, as a matter of fact. “Besides,” she continued, “I only allowed it to go on as long as it has because you seem to bring, how shall I say … a certain joy to the emperor.”
“Really?” Jegra asked, thinking she might mean something more to the emperor than just the gladiator slave girl he occasionally fucked during his furlough.
“Yes. You bring him an unparalleled physical enjoyment.”
Jegra bit her lip and squinted at Cassera. “Do you think maybe there’s something more, perhaps? I mean, to the emperor’s liking me?”
“No,” Cassera staunchly replied, her truth crushing Jegra’s hopes of finding anything resembling love this side of the galaxy. “It’s purely physical.”
“Fine,” Jegra answered, scowling at Cassera. She appreciated honestly, but there was such a thing as being too honest. “At least now we’re on the same page.”
Cassera turned and continued up the length of the corridor and Jegra followed, her posture slumped slightly as a harsh sense of dejection set in.
Soon enough they came to a large oval doorway with two guards posted outside. Cassera gestured for Jegra to go ahead and enter the room with a wave of her hand. “He’s waiting for you inside.”
Without so much as waiting for a reply, Vice Admiral Cassera marched back the way they’d come and disappeared around the corner of the bending corridor. Off to bust some balls, no doubt. And maybe crush a few hearts just for funsies while she was at it, Jegra mused.
Nervous, she stood outside the emperor’s personal quarters and took a deep breath. It’s just the emperor of the whole friggin’ galaxy, she told herself. Facing the large entrance, she fidgeted with her breasts one more time out of nervous anticipation and a keen desire to make a good impression. She took another deep breath, exhaled, and brushed down her dress, chasing out any wrinkles. Satisfied that she was as good as she could get, at least without a full team of stylists, she boldly stepped up to the entrance and tapped the door panel. She heard the chime from within. It played a melodic ditty that she’d heard a couple times before as she’d stalked the corridors of the ship.
“Enter,” a voice commanded.
The doors parted with a whisk and the pleasant aroma of wine and salad with a vinaigrette dressing wafted out of the emperor’s quarters and into the corridor. Jegra smiled and then confidently strode inside to find a large
chamber unlike any she’d ever seen before. Especially aboard a starship. Although, to be fair, to date, her starship excursions had been rather limited.
Even so, she was astonished to find a fountain in the middle of room. It had two mermaid-like aliens holding up a large chalice that poured out water from its spout. And coiled around their legs were numerous Japanese koi fish, mid-air, which spat little streams that crisscrossed one another in pulsating squirts. She almost laughed out loud at the sight of a fountain in a starship, but she knew that Lord Dakroth was a somewhat decadent type. The seemingly Greek styled sculptures complimented the rest of the ship rather nicely with its strange techno-gothic aesthetic that was both sleek and menacing. Just like the emperor.
As she scanned her surroundings, she found that the room was unusually large, even for an emperor’s suite. It reminded her of her old high school’s auditorium. There was even a raised level, a platform, that wrapped around the entire circumference of the room with curved stairs to either side of her. Beneath the platform was an open bar that looked out at the fountain.
Above her, hanging from the ceiling, was a magnificent crystal chandelier that provided a warm candlelight to the room. Running along the brushed metal of the space-gray walls were a series of matching wall lights, meant to look like candelabrums.
“Over here,” a voice called out to her. Jegra looked up to find the emperor standing next to a round table set for three. She smiled and waved and then started up the stairs to meet him.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, she found him waiting there for her. She curtseyed deeply and held her slight bow, then slowly rose when he took her hand.
He immediately placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her into him, kissing her lips. Jegra didn’t know what to do but accept the kiss. She smiled when he’d had his fill of her and then waited for him to speak.
“Please, take a seat, my dear Jessica.”
She hated it when he called her by her Earth name. She was Jegra the Merciless. The undefeated champion of the galaxy. Jessica was just a ghost. A fleeting memory of the woman she had been. But she dared not correct him. He was the emperor of the Dagon Empire and seven star systems.
Only the Nyctan Empire rivaled his power. The Nyctan ruled five systems and managed to hold Emperor Dakroth’s imperial fleet at bay–a topic that was a rather sore spot for him.
“I hear the Nyctan fleet is putting up an impressive fight at the front,” she said as Dakroth slid out her chair and gestured for her to sit.
She smiled and took her seat at the dining table. He sat down opposite her and unfolded his napkin and pressed it to his lap. She followed suit and did likewise.
A waiter promptly appeared out of nowhere and took away the third set of plates and silverware meant for Abethca. Jegra watched him rush off and then turned to face Dakroth.
“Yes, the Nyctans boast superior shield technology which allows them to hold out in a fight longer. But our laser canons are far more powerful which levels the playing field considerably.”
Jegra nodded as though she were interested in the specs of the large battle cruisers. She wasn’t. But she humored him as she waited to learn why she was here. Was it just a booty call, or did he have something specific to discuss with her?
“My Lord,” she began, but they had begun to speak at the same time. Catching herself, she gave a diminutive laugh and apologized. “I’m sorry, you go ahead.”
“No, you go on. I insist.”
“I was just wondering,” she said, batting her lovely brown eyes at him, “if you called me here for something other than my physical charms and riveting company.”
Lord Dakroth laughed and tossed his silver hair over his shoulder. “My dear Jessica,” he said, his narrow smile widening into a full grin. “I’ve invited you here because I want to ask you something. Something of utmost importance.”
“Yes?” she asked.
Dakroth slid his chair back and rose to his feet. Walking around the table to her, he got down on one knee, and pulled out a Seyfferian Sapphire, the largest and brightest sapphires in the whole star system. “Will you, Jessica Hemsworth, do me the honor of becoming my seventeenth wife?”
Jegra’s jaw fell open and she mumbled senseless sounds as she searched for the proper response. After a moment of her being tongue-tied, Dakroth scratched his chin and looked down at the sapphire.
“Did I do it wrong? My research said that the males of your species get down on one knee when they ask a woman to marry them.”
“Oh, you did fine,” Jegra said.
She could see this news relieved the emperor greatly. “Excellent!” he said, holding up the ring for her to slip onto her finger.
Jegra wasn’t in love with the emperor. They had chemistry, though. A raw, sexual attraction existed between them for sure. But she wasn’t expecting him to make her into one of his many wives, adding her to his already robust harem. Quite frankly, she suspected that he had ulterior motives.
“Before I accept,” she said, holding out her fingers, but pulling back just enough to delay the inevitable. “Why, may I ask, the sudden urge to marry me? Do you need me to fight in the campaigns? Or do you just desire my body?”
“By the almighty Hastur, I swear to you, it is because you’ve stolen my heart that I so desire you. There isn’t a moment that goes by that I can’t stop thinking of you. The sound of your voice. The smell of your hair. And, yes, even I admit the sex is great. But you’re more than just a trophy wife to me. I want you by my side, Jegra. I swear it.”
She felt he hammed his speech up far too much for any of it to be sincere, but she knew that he’d likely reveal all in due time. So, she let out a deep sigh and then slid her finger into the ring.
“Yes!” she answered enthusiastically. “I will marry you.”
Although the words had slipped out of her mouth without the slightest inkling of forethought, she was committed. After all, it wasn’t every day the emperor of the entire friggin’ galaxy asked you to marry him.
5
Out of wind, Jegra rolled off Dakroth’s waist and fell back onto the silky, golden sheets of his gilded bed, her sweat dappled chest heaving with the aftershocks of salacious delight.
Jegra fanned her glistening chest and reached across the smooth sheets that were made from the finest silk of the Angorian weaving spider which populates Dagon Prime. They also infest the darker regions of the catacombs beneath the arena, but although they were a pretty, iridescent teal, to her they were just ordinary spiders. She looked over at Dakroth, who gazed up at the ceiling, still in a daze of euphoria and said, “That was…”
“Invigorating!” Dakroth interrupted, finishing her sentence for her.
“You spoke my mind, your majesty.”
“Please, you are my bride-to-be. You can dispense with the formalities and refer to me by my name when in private. In public, Emperor Dakroth will suffice.”
“Yes, my lovely Rhadamanthus.” Jegra sat up and swung her legs over the bed, slid to the cold floor, and then sauntered over to a small mini-bar at the edge of the room. “Would you like something to drink?”
Dakroth licked his lips, the taste of her essence still lingering there. “I’m more than satisfied, for the time being.”
Jegra chortled as she poured herself a Tragellion ale and mixed it with a Dragonian elixir that tasted like raspberry flavored tequila, except that it glowed bright green. When the two combined, they turned into a luminescent blue drink. She raised the glass and examined the contents with keen interest.
“Suit yourself,” she replied, and downed the entire drink before pouring herself another. When she turned around, the emperor had drifted off to sleep. Jegra smiled and then, remembering what Cassera had said earlier, about keeping an eye on her at all times, she sauntered drunkenly around the room inspecting the walls and behind furniture for hidden cameras or concealed mics.
Tipsy, she took another sip of her blue liquor and then, looking up at th
e ceiling, called out to Cassera. “I know you’re eavesdropping, Vice Admiral Snoopy-pants. Why don’t you come over for a visit? Our boy-toy is passed out with exhaustion, but I still have a deep thirst that needs to be quenched. Come play with me Cassera. Please?!”
Jegra shrugged when there was no immediate reply and tossed back her drink. It slid down her throat slicker than vodka; she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and let out a delicious sounding sigh.
Still horny, she looked over at the emperor sleeping on the bed and studied his naked, blue form, sprawled out for all the world to see. She smiled and bit her bottom lip as she contemplated what to do. But she didn’t want to disturb the emperor’s slumber, so, instead, she plopped down on the bed and admired her engagement ring.
She didn’t know the value of the sapphire, but it looked like an enormous blue diamond set inside a wide, korridium wedding band. Etched along the circumference of the ring was what she recognized to be Dagoni. The only part she could make out, however, was “Dakroth Ne Dekwe’gon” which meant “Dakroth’s beloved one,” in the Dagoni language. Pulling up the covers, Jegra tucked in her sleeping emperor and then rose up to make the long walk back around to her side of the bed. But before she could sink back into the silky sheets, the door chimed.
She stopped and turned to see the doors slide open. To her pleasant surprise, Cassera stood in the entrance, tottering on a pair of long sexy blue legs that ran up the length of her short, oriental styled nightgown, and almost seemed to go on forever after disappearing inside.
Cassera tilted her hips and rested her shoulder on the door frame as she gazed across the room at Jegra with maudlin eyes that sparkled golden. Like her eyes, her oriental gown glittered with a medallionesque sheen in the soft light streaming in from the hallway. Her gown’s sash had slackened and her cleavage was spilling out in generous amounts. It was also the first time Jegra had seen her wear her hair down.
