Gladiatrix of the Galaxy

by Tristan Vick

  The woman sighed impatiently and said, “Suit yourself.” Raising her hand, she brushed Jegra’s arm and sent an intense electrical shock into her. Jegra’s entire body seized and then she fell over.

  Half conscious, she watched through blurry vision as the woman bent down and grabbed her by the ankles and began dragging her away. But the harder she tried to focus the more impossible it seemed. Add her heat stroke, dehydration, and too many cheese fries into the mix and she was bound to pass out.

  “Gwahfff!” Jegra rushed back to consciousness as a cold bucket of water was tossed onto her. She found herself seated on a bench in the alley with her hands bound behind her back. She tried to tear free of the bonds, but they were a korridium alloy and magnetically sealed.

  These were state of the art, military issue, restraints. Either this woman was with secret ops, or she was an overpaid bounty hunter. Jegra assumed the latter.

  “I won’t ask again,” Jegra growled through her teeth. “Who are you?”

  “Who I am is unimportant,” the woman relied. She crouched down so she could look into Jegra’s eyes. That’s when Jegra noticed that the woman’s eyes weren’t yellow, like most Dagons, but purple. Looking closer, she saw that they were prosthetic eyes. “All that matters is that I always get the job done. Always.”

  The woman rose up and walked past Jegra. Unable to see where she went made Jegra nervous, and she struggled against her restraints some more. “Wait, where you going?” she called out. But there was no answer.

  After a moment of silence, she heard the clap of hoof steps behind her. It can’t be, she thought. He’s dead.

  To her surprise, however, Grendok strode past her, his arms behind his back. He wore a fancy burgundy vest and, as typical, no pants. The white bearded satyr turned and smiled at her. “Long time, no see, Jegra the Merciless.”

  “Impossible,” she gasped. “I … I killed you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. You merely destroyed one copy of me.” Brushing his hand across his body as if he were proudly displaying himself, he added, “Just as this vessel is also a copy.”

  “You mean clones?”

  “Yes, clones,” he replied.

  Although cloning was banned in the Commonwealth due to slave labor disputes, Jegra knew that black market cloning facilities still operated under the radar and fetched a pretty penny. A single clone with full memory implants could cost upward of fifty billion credits, equivalent of a single blue-collar worker’s entire lifetime salary. Only the extremely wealthy could even afford to own their own clones let alone multiple copies.

  “But why?” she asked.

  He smiled at her and stroked his beard. “Let’s just say my line of business is rather hazardous for my health.”

  “And what kind of business would that be?”

  “Arms dealing, of course. But, more than that, I trade in technology and information.”

  “Of course, you do,” Jegra quipped.

  “No need to get prickly with me,” Grendok said. “We’re on the same side.”

  “Oh, yeah? Then why am I tied up?”

  “Because you refused to meet with me.”

  “That’s because I thought you were dead.”

  “Yes, well, we’ve already been over this. So, I’ll just cut to the chase. About a week ago I happened to come into possession of a highly encrypted data stick.”

  “A data stick?” Jegra repeated. “What was on it?”

  “That’s just the thing I wanted to meet with you about. You see, as one who deals in the sale of highly sensitive information, I was curious as to what datum it contained. I immediately put my best people on it and three days ago they finally cracked it.”

  “Congratulations,” Jegra said, not trying in the slightest to mask her sarcasm.

  “Yes, well, the whole reason for this clandestine meeting is that the information on that data stick was about you.”

  “Me?” Jegra asked, her head perking up as she gained a newfound interest in what Grendok version 2.0 had to say. “What did it say, precisely?”

  “It had your genome, completely encoded. I don’t know what they want your genome for, but my best guess would be plans to make super soldiers for an unstoppable army of Jegra clones.”

  “But who would conceive such a cruel plan?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that.”

  “You telling me this is Emperor Dakroth’s doing?”

  “Would you have me believe you actually trust him? No, dear. I think you know, like I do, that he’s as corrupt as they come. He just happens to be infatuated with you for the moment. But when that ends, so does any semblance of kindness.”

  “And why should I believe you?” Jegra asked.

  Grendok pulled a small data stick from his breast pocket and held it out for her to see. “Don’t take my word for it. See for yourself.” Placing the data stick between her tightly pressed breasts, he smiled at her one last time and then bid her adieu.

  “I’m glad we could have this chat. It was nice catching up.” Then, without saying another word, Grendok disappeared the way he’d come.

  Once he was safely away, Jegra’s restraints automatically unlocked and fell to the ground. She jumped up to her feet and plucked the data stick out from her cleavage. Although she didn’t have time to inspect it right now, she’d be sure to do so the first chance she got.

  Jegra hurried back inside and quickly seated herself at the booth. She’d tucked the data stick in the waistband of her underwear to keep it concealed and out of sight.

  “What took you so long?” Cassera said, her cheeks flushing purple as the third drink gave her that buzz Jegra hoped would make “stick-up-the-butt” Cassera loosen up to become the fun “want to have a threesome” Cassera.

  “It was the cheese fries,” Jegra lied. “Clogged me up good.”

  “Ew, gross!” Cassera said. “Too much information.”

  “You asked,” Jegra fired back with a bit of snark. She scanned all the faces in the room one more time and figured that Dakroth’s contact was a no-show. Grabbing the emperor by his arm, she said, “Come on. We’re getting a room for the evening.”

  “You read my mind,” he said drunkenly, half his face twisting into a scandalous smile.

  Cassera followed after them and, wobbling drunkenly, called out, “Wait for me.”

  Jegra paid the tab by using the barcode tattoo under her wrist that she got once her credits for winning matches started rolling in. The bartender looked down at his tablet then up at Jegra then down at his tablet again, as he pieced together who she really was.

  “Keep your lips zipped if you don’t want me tearing them off and shoving them up your ass. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” the bartender whimpered.

  “Good. Now point me in the direction of the nearest hotel.”

  “I’m afraid the only vacancy is a love hotel a block from here,” he said, pointing in the direction of the hotel. “It’s called Neon Pussies. You’ll recognize it by the giant fluorescent kitten atop of the building.”

  “Give yourself a tip,” Jegra said, waving her wrist over the scanner once more. “Eighty credits.”

  “Eighty credits?” the man gasped. “That’s awfully generous.”

  “If you hear of anything regarding me or my travel companions, you’ll let me know, yeah?”

  “Y-yes, of course!” he agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

  Intimidation was only a last resort. She didn’t like threatening people, but right now they didn’t have anyone they could trust.

  Jegra eyeballed him hard, letting him know that any slip of the tongue would mean unpleasantries for him, then grabbed her two drunken Dagon companions and yanked them out of the bar.

  Linking arms, the three of them swayed drunkenly as they headed down the street toward the giant neon kitten.

  10

  A shameless moan escaped Jegra’s lips as she kissed Emperor Rhadamanthus Dakroth’s
mouth and then rolled off of him. Falling onto her back on the bed beside Cassera, who lay panting, Jegra gasped, “That was … fucking phenomenal.”

  “Indeed, it was,” Dakroth said, rising out of the bed. His skin prickled in the cool of the evening air as he walked over to the window. Standing unabashedly in front of the large glass pane, he peered out and lost himself in his thoughts

  Cassera slid up against Jegra and kissed her on her shoulder. “Truly, you must be blessed by the Gilded God, Hastur,” Cassera said, dabbling Jegra’s body with several more delicate kisses.

  “Hastur?” asked Jegra. “I know he’s the deity most species in the Dagon Empire worship, but I only know what I’ve heard in passing on the lips of those praying to Hastur before a match. More than that, I’m afraid that I’m at a loss.”

  “None is mightier than the Gilded Master. Even Emperor Dakroth recognizes Hastur’s true power.”

  Dakroth waved his hand as if to suggest he wasn’t interested in getting into a religious debate. But Jegra was curious. “Tell me more,” she insisted.

  “Hastur is the beginning and the end of all things. He is the golden filament that sparked the universe into being, and he is the golden flame which will snuff it out again.”

  “I’ve heard rumors that the Nyctans also believe in Hastur. Is this true?”

  “The Nyctans have perverted the sacred teachings of Dagon with fabrications and delusional fantasies based on their subjective understanding of our people’s most ancient sacred texts. Don’t let them fool you, they worship a false god.”

  “It’s all so fascinating,” Jegra said, brushing Cassera’s white hair behind her ear and looking deep into her eyes. “You know something? When I look into your golden eyes, I think maybe your god forged you from that same awesome fire.”

  “You flatter me unnecessarily,” Cassera said, diverting her gaze. Her blue cheeks flushed and turned violet with embarrassment. Although Jegra didn’t see why she should be embarrassed. When Cassera let her silver hair down, she was quite stunning indeed.

  Jegra wrapped her arms around Cassera and drew her in tight, basking in her warmth. “My words are sincere.”

  “Enough talk,” Cassera said, snuggling up to Jegra and resting her head on her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she yawned, and in a sleepy voice said, “Let’s sleep.”

  Jegra looked over at Dakroth and, with her free arm, patted the vacant side of the bed. “Are you coming to bed, my love? It’s cold. And I miss your warmth.”

  “In a moment,” he said, locking his hands behind his back. He fixed his eyes on the sky and stared up at the stars.

  Up there, somewhere, the Nyctan ships loitered, mocking his sovereignty. For that, they would surely pay.

  “They’re not going anywhere,” Jegra informed him. “You’ll have your revenge soon enough, my lord. Now, come to bed. You’ve had a long day and tomorrow promises to be even longer.”

  Dakroth turned and smiled at her. He nodded in agreement and then returned to bed. Slipping beneath the covers, he spooned Jegra, who lay wedged between two blue-skins.

  As she dozed off, she couldn’t help but think that these past few days had been the most interesting of her life. Allowing the embrace of sleep to fully engulf her, Jegra closed her eyes and drifted off.

  Several hours later, the sound of secretive whispers aroused Jegra from her peaceful slumber. She pretended to remain asleep as she strained her ears to listen to their faint voices. She didn’t stir for fear of dissuading anyone from sharing what needed to be shared.

  “If you keep manipulating her like this, she’ll do more than just resent you,” Cassera chastised. “She might rebel. And we don’t even know what her limits are yet. She went head-to-head with Jennica for crying out loud. Nobody’s ever gone up against a Dagon of that magnitude and survived. And don’t even get me started on that psychotic red-skin you employ.”

  “The assassin was necessary. The green-skin’s interference would have thrown a wrench into my plans. Now, with her out of the way, Jegra’s focus is right where it ought to be.”

  “My lord, I rarely ever question your authority on these matters, but I feel there is another way to go about it. One that is less barbaric.”

  “Your feelings betray you, Cassera” Dakroth replied. “But what is done is done. We have no choice but to move forward with the plan or else risk losing the trade-war with the Nyctans.”

  “Right now, I’m more concerned about Abethca’s immediate family. Her eldest sister has a powerful voice in the Commonwealth senate. If she finds out that we assassinated her beloved sibling in cold blood—”

  “She won’t,” growled Dakroth with his standard level of impatient obstinance.

  “If she finds out,” Cassera stressed, ignoring his impolite interruption, “we can’t afford to have the Seyfferians and Nyctans unite against us.”

  “All together, the Commonwealth is only three systems, vice admiral. And, even if they did join forces with the Nyctans, it wouldn’t be enough to overthrow the Dagon Empire. We are seven systems strong and growing.”

  “But our fleet is stretched thin as it is. We are waging too many campaigns and the shipyards can’t keep up with the demand for new ships. There’s simply not enough ore in the system.”

  “We’ll mine the outer rim if we have to.”

  “And while we do that, against the Trade Federation rules and against the Commonwealth’s interests, the Nyctans would jump at the opportunity to launch a full-fledged attack, and you know it. If they didn’t take out our ship building facilities while we mined ore, they’d attack the fleet protecting our ore mining operations. Either way, it’s a boon to them and a detriment to us. It could set us back for decades, your majesty.”

  “Which is why using Jegra in this way is part of my long-term plan. She’s the key to everything.”

  Jegra slowly sat up in bed and looked over to find Cassera and the Emperor standing off in the corner by the dim light of a single lamp that hung on the cheaply painted lavender walls. Both of them stood fully dressed, which caused Jegra to suspect more was going on than just a heated conversation. They were discussing the very strategy that would keep the Dagon Empire the superpower that it was.

  She watched them for a while without their knowledge and then cautiously rose out of bed.

  “You had Abethca killed?” she asked, one eye squinting at Dakroth as she grilled him on the details of the conversation she had just overheard.

  Both Dagons spun around with startled expressions on their faces. Dakroth immediately said in an uncommonly polite voice, “My dear, you’re awake!” Immediately afterward he gave Cassera an icy look and snarled out of the corner of his mouth, “I told you this this wasn’t the time or place to discuss such matters.”

  Cassera stepped in between Jegra and the emperor, hoping to intervene before things got out of hand, and put up both hands. “Jegra, wait. I can explain.”

  “She meant something to me,” Jegra said, her voice flexing in her throat as her neck tightened with intense anger. The veins in her neck began to bulge as she pointed over Cassera’s shoulder and aimed her finger at Dakroth. “You had no right!”

  “Right?” Dakroth balked. “I’m the Dagon Emperor! And bride or not, you’ll learn your place.” He raised a glowing finger as a deterrent to Jegra’s aggressiveness and a reminder that he had the power to end her if need be.

  Cassera shot the emperor a sharp glance over her shoulder. “Not helping!”

  Jegra balled up her fists and grinned. “It seems somebody needs to be knocked off his high horse.”

  “Jegra…” Cassera cautioned, “this won’t end well … for any of us.”

  “No, it won’t,” she said popping her knuckles. Each crack a vicious reminder of the merciless power she was about to unleash.

  “I’m warning you, Jegra,” the emperor said, his voice wavering with apprehension. Even he wasn’t aware of Jegra’s full abilities and wasn’t so sure a direct blast would take h
er out before she leapt across the room and snapped his neck. “Stay back.”

  Jegra pulled back her right arm and let loose a tremendous punch. Cassera immediately used her powers to throw up an energy shield and Jegra’s fist smashed into it with a resounding crash.

  The shield rippled with waves as the energy field displaced Jegra’s kinetic force. A deep reverberation echoed throughout the third story room and, consequently, the entire building. The walls and furniture shuddered all around them.

  “Big mistake,” Jegra said with a grin.

  “Oh, shit!” Cassera said, doing a quick mental calculation of the physics that had just transpired. Throwing back her other arm she used a shield to shatter the glass window behind them. “Brace yourself, my lord.”

  Dakroth didn’t understand what had happened, but suddenly a fracture opened up in the floor, walls, and ceiling. It was as though an earthquake was tearing right through the building as it cut its way through the landscape and, consequently, everything in its path.

  Jegra had split the building in half by using Cassera’s forcefield against her. The pressure of the impact created a blast of air which deflected off the shield and, in turn, acted like a high-pressure air gun, slicing right through the building as though it were a Swiss roll cake.

  “Impressive. She literally used our powers against us. This is why we have her with us,” the emperor spoke aloud, admiring Jegra’s ability to think on her feet.

  Jegra pulled back and smiled at him. “A compliment from the emperor? I’m flattered. Thank you, sweetie.” Naturally, she said it with an artificial graciousness which was lost on him.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, unaware that she didn’t actually mean it, especially not after what she had just learned about his manipulation of her and what he had done to Abethca.

  Actions spoke louder than words with Dakroth, which is why she didn’t wait for him to figure out she wasn’t being sincere. Without another word, she clapped her hands together with as much strength as she had and a mighty gush of air pushed the emperor’s half of the building the rest of the way over.