by Tristan Vick
“Ship! Ship!” Kregor shouted.
“I see it!” Raven shouted back, punching the thrusters to full.
“We’re so screwed,” Kregor said.
“Not necessarily,” Danica said, pointing at the aft thrusters of the ship.
Raven gave her a look of acknowledgement, letting her know that they were on the same page. “It’s crazy, but it just might work. Besides, it’s not like we have a lot of options right at the moment,” Raven growled, pulling back on the stick.
The Skywend’s nose came full about and aimed itself right at the battle cruiser’s aft thrusters.
“What are you doing, Captain?” Kregor asked, his voice flexing with nervousness. “You’re heading straight for it. Don’t we want to be, you know, going the opposite way?”
“I’m going to ride the shockwave by putting us right in the path of its gas tail.”
“That’s assuming we can survive the turbulence of an FTL jump in low atmosphere at all.”
Raven’s facial tech lit up, every circuit aglow, the bright white lines of the circuitry outlined in red where the lines met her blue skin. Her eyes turned from purple to bright white as she began processing all the possible trajectories. “I can do it,” she said, her voice growing more computer-like.
Danica strapped in tight and, holding the edges of her chair, she screamed, “Fuuuck!” just as the Nyctan cruiser jumped away.
“Shit!” Kregor shouted as the Skywend’s collision alarm automatically started to blare annoyingly all around them.
[Incoming shockwave], the computer relayed in a soothing woman’s voice. The soothing voice seemed a bit out of place against the sheer intensity of the situation.
There was a bang and a crash, and the Skywend’s structural integrity alarm joined the collision alarm in a terrible cacophony that foreshadowed their impending demise.
White hot sparks flew out of the control panel and rained down from the ceiling as paneling burst open with small electrical explosions. The computer wasn’t helping any either, as it kept warning, [Systems critical].
“Kindly turn that fucking thing off!” Raven shouted.
Kregor kicked his leg out and booted the controls and the computer’s voice died away.
Although the droning of the computer’s alarms stopped, the amount of turbulence caused a rattling so loud it was jarring. Danica felt like she was going to throw up.
Finally, after an extremely rough ride through the shockwave, they came out the other side. Shortly after that, they breached the atmosphere.
The Skywend found a fixed orbit and Raven cut the engines.
“You did it!” Kregor cheered.
Danica let out a deep sigh of relief.
Raven flipped on the comm. “I realize we’re falling apart at the seams up here, but there’s no time for a ship wide maintenance check. It’s best we be getting on before more cruisers show up,” Raven said, and she spooled up the FTL drive. “Everyone, hold tight.” With that, she hit the ignition button.
Instead of leaping into streaks of light stretching infinitely into the recesses of hyperspace, however, the drive gurgled and sputtered and then wound down with a whine.
Kregor looked at Raven and she groaned.
“What’s happening?” Danica asked.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Raven complained, her white eyes cooling back to a honeyed violet. Smashing the comm, she shouted, “Gyllek, where are my engines?”
“I’m working on it!” a frantic voice replied.
Off the starboard bow, three Nyctan battle cruisers appeared, all of them as big as the Omikran.
“Shit,” Raven said. “They’ve already found us.”
“What are we going to do?” asked Danica, as she stared out at the pack of angry looking ships. The looked like a pack of wolves, slowly closing in on their prey.
The Skywend slowly came about and then turned toward the rings of Nyctan’s largest moon. “We’ll try and lose them in there,” Raven said, pointing at the rings.
“Are you crazy?” Danica gasped. “We’ll be torn apart.”
“But so will they,” Raven added. “And we’re smaller, so we’ll have a better chance of not dying.”
“I am really beginning to dislike this ship,” Danica groaned.
“Don’t worry, sister. The feeling is mutual.” Raven looked over at Danica and smiled. But it was a harsh smile. Not hostile, but not friendly either.
“I’m sorry,” Danica said. “I didn’t mean to insult you or your ship. I’ve just had a stressful few days is all.”
“You and me both,” Raven replied.
Jegra appeared on the bridge and Danica swiftly unbuckled herself and flew into her arms.
“What’s this now?” Jegra laughed, tickled by Danica’s uncharacteristic display of affection.
“She thought we were going to die,” Kregor said, answering on Danica’s behalf. “But the captain got us through. She always does.”
“How does Sanakar fare?” Raven asked.
“She’s sedated and resting. But there’s been too much nerve damage. Skuld will have to amputate her arm and fit her with a prosthetic. But she’ll survive.”
Raven nodded and then jammed the throttle full tilt. The Skywend’s thrusters grew hot as they blasted toward the moon with rings.
The battle cruisers trailed them in hot pursuit, but their enormous size made their acceleration sluggish as they fought against Nyctan’s gravity.
Some green disrupter blasts whisked by the Skywend’s port side, but they were nowhere near enough to be of concern. The Skywend was far enough away that the deflectors easily bent the blasts away from the ship. They’d have to be much closer before the laser blasts would do any serious damage, and that wasn’t likely at this point.
Not wanting to risk them getting close enough to threaten the ship, Raven kept the throttle on max burn. At least this way they’d maintain a safe distance.
It looked like it would be smooth sailing until they got to the ice belt around the moon, but before they could make it halfway, the Subjugator jumped into high Nyctan orbit and cut them off from their destination.
“Holy shit balls!” Kregor barked, his voice filled with shock by the sudden and wholly unexpected appearance.
Almost instantly, Dakroth began firing on the Nyctan cruisers. It seemed that he wanted the Skywend all to himself and wasn’t about to let anyone else have Jegra.
Jegra grabbed the back of Raven’s chair and leaned forward, looking out at the ships blasting away at one another.
“That idiot just gave us the out we needed,” Raven said, a large smile forming on her lips.
The comm chimed and Gyllek came onto the speaker. “FTL is back up and running, captain. Ready to kick this bucket right in her shiny little ass.”
“Excellent,” replied Raven. “And just in time, too.” Looking over her shoulder at Jegra, she asked, “Where to, your majesty?”
“We’re back to that, are we?” Jegra laughed.
“You are the Empress of the Galaxy.”
That gave Jegra an idea, and a wide grin came across her face as the perfect destination came to mind. “We’re going to go to the last place in the entire galaxy he’d expect.”
35
The Imperial Palace on Dagon Prime was grander than the Taj Mahal and three times the size of the Taj Palace Hotel in Mumbai. It had very similar features to Arabian architecture on Earth and was just as ornate in its beauty.
Golden Persian domed spires rose up on four turrets which surrounded a fifth, much larger, domed tower. A long stretch of the royal pool ran about a hundred meters right up to the main, back entrance.
The grand entrance overlooked the Dagon metropolis from its hilltop perch. There was no easy direct access from below to the palace grounds, as the hill was too steep and also fortified.
The Skywend’s landing thrusters kicked dust and leaves up as the ship, a six-hundred-foot-long vessel – the size of the largest megayachts
back on Earth – came down on the back lawn of the palace grounds. Its landing skiffs deployed, and with a compressed hiss of the hydraulics, it set down.
As the landing ramp began to open, Jegra was already descending to greet the small security force that raced towards them.
The palace security detail of two dozen private security guards, who were well-armed, trained their weapons on the ship. One got on his helmet-mounted loudspeaker and said, “This is the Imperial Palace, you are trespassing. Prepare to surrender yourselves and hand over your vessel. I repeat, you are trespassing.”
“I think not,” Jegra said, stepping off the ramp as she looked at the stunned faces of the Dagon security force. She was wearing her chainmail gladatrix bikini, along with her full array of trophies and trinkets, so as to be the most recognizable version of her celebrity self. That way, there’d be no mistaking who she was nor what authority she had.
Shocked and awed, all the guards picked their mouths up off the palace lawn and lowered their weapons. “Your majesty,” the chief security officer said, kneeling. As soon as he had knelt, the other guards, in one simultaneous display of allegiance, all knelt as well. “My apologies, we had no idea. It was believed you were dead.”
“The rumors of my death were exaggerated. Even my wayward husband, the emperor, still thinks that I’m dead. Please notify me when he arrives. Until then, grant my friends full access to the imperial grounds and palace.”
The guard nodded his head, stood up, and then swiveled a finger in the air. This gesture immediately dissipated the rest of the security detail, which went back to their posts.
“Your majesty, my name is Meleh’kendar, and I’m chief of palace security. May I see your wrist, please.”
Jegra shot him a sharp glance, yet, upon realizing he meant her no ill will, she extended her arm. He took it and then pulled out a scanner from a pouch on his security belt. It scanned her invisible barcode, making sure she was who she appeared to be, and not an assassin in disguise.
Satisfied it was really her, Meleh’kendar then reprogrammed her designation as that of the Empress of Dagon, giving her full authority over the palace. And until her warmongering husband returned from wreaking havoc on the galaxy, she supposed she was in charge. Of everything.
Raven Nightguard emerged behind Jegra, and the Empress turned and introduced her. “Meleh’kendar, this is Captain Raven Nightguard. She has full authority here. Anything that can be said in front of me can be said in front of her. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your grace,” Meleh’kendar replied, bowing his head.
“Good. Now, alert the staff of my arrival. My guests have had a long, wearisome journey. I owe my life to each and every one of them and they deserve the finest hospitality we have to offer.”
“As you wish, your grace.” Meleh’kendar bowed reverently then spun on his heels and, without wasting a moment, marched off to carry out Jegra’s requests, speaking into his wireless earpiece as he barked orders at the staff to make things ready. The empress had returned.
Jegra turned to Raven and shrugged.
“You know,” Raven said nonchalantly, “They very well could have had orders to fire on sight.”
Jegra laughed. “It was a risk I was willing to take. Besides, with the emperor’s gallivanting around like a madman, I highly doubt he’s had the time. As far as the people are concerned, we’re happily married.” Placing her hand on her hip, she waved her hand across the vista behind her of the royal palace lingering over her shoulder. “Shall we?”
Raven laughed in return and then headed back up the ramp of her ship. “I’ll alert the others that it’s safe to come out.” She smiled the rarest of smiles and then disappeared inside. Just as she entered, Danica appeared at the top of the ramp.
Stunned that Jegra’s plan had actually worked, Danica looked around the grounds, thinking it might be a trick, but then came to the conclusion that it must be exactly as it appeared; they were honored guests of the royal palace.
Overjoyed by the prospect of Jegra actually being accepted by the Dagon people as their empress, she raced down the ramp and leapt up into Jegra’s arms.
Again, Danica’s sudden display of affection caught Jegra by surprise and she barely had time to catch her. The two women crashed together and, absorbing her momentum, Jegra hoisted Danica up and spun her around and laughed at the unexpectedness of it.
She wrapped her arms tightly around Danica’s waist, bringing Danica comfortably into her ample bosom, and squeezed. Jegra arched her chin upward while Danica bent down to meet her lips.
Danica placed one hand on Jegra’s shoulder, the other on her neck, and pointed her toes outward as they kissed like she’d seen the women in the romantic televid shows. “I was so worried,” she admitted.
“It’s all right,” Jegra insisted. “We’re safe now, at least until my darling husband gets home,” she laughed.
She set Danica back down and they gazed into one another’s eyes, their arms still hanging on the gradual curve of the other’s hips. Danica’s face grew serious and she shook her head in a solemn manner.
“No, Jegra. It’s not safe. It will never be safe as long as you are with him. The sooner you realize this the sooner you can prepare yourself for the inevitable.”
“Inevitable?” Jegra asked.
“The day that Emperor Dakroth decides to kill you. Because, heed my words, luv. That day is fast approaching.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Jegra said, determined not to let her psychopath of a husband manipulate her any longer. “Let’s get ready.”
Danica smiled and nodded in agreement. It was time to stop running and make a stand. And with the support of the Dagon people behind her, Jegra might just pull it off.
Three weeks went by and Jegra finally got news that the emperor was giving up his search for her and would be returning to Dagon.
After the servants dressed her in the finest silk gown, replete with shoulder epaulettes and a flowing white cape with golden interior, she spun around and marched out of her room and into the hallway.
Naturally, the outfit had a plunge neckline that maximized her cleavage. The dress itself was pearl white with gold embroidery and an intricate rosemaling of traditional Dagon floral patterns trailed off to lace fringes which gave the dress an almost feather-like appearance.
Although the dress was long and trailing, there was a solitary slit running from her hip all the way down the side of the dress, accentuating her shapely leg yet allowing her complete mobility.
The empress, according to Danica, also had the secondary role of being the emperor’s body guard. Which meant her outfit was designed as much for fighting as it was elegance.
Elaborate details were etched neatly into the pearl-like metal of the shoulder armor that glimmered iridescently in the beams of sunshine that shined through the towering windows of the corridor and, split by the window frames, spread themselves across the room like the folds of a luminous oriental fan.
Jegra marched across the empty marble floors of the throne room and up the dais to the throne, which sat overlooking the main chamber. Since there was only one seat, due partly to the fact that the emperor had planned to be rid of her, she took it and sat down.
Her hands gripped the ends of the chair’s arms and she crossed her legs. Her tan leg escaped the white dress and she moved the slit skirt aside, making sure the maximum amount of skin was exposed and that she held a sexy pose.
Meleh’kendar rushed into the throne room and, huffing to try to catch his breath, he announced. “The emperor is transporting down now, your grace.”
“Thank you, Meleh’kendar,” Jegra said. “You may be excused.”
As soon as he had exited the large standing doors, a yellow beam of light appeared in the middle of the throne room. A few seconds later Emperor Dakroth materialized.
The look on his face was priceless. Upon seeing Jegra, decked out in the clothes of the one true empress, sitting upon his thr
one, his jaw dropped to the floor.
A sinister grin came across his face. He tossed his long platinum hair over his shoulder and laughed. “But, of course, you’re here! Why didn’t I think of it sooner?”
“Because, darling,” Jegra sneered, playing up her false politeness for added measure, “You have a simplistic, one-track mind.”
Displeased with her brazen disrespect, he frowned and then scratched his chin. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Raising his glowing finger, he pointed it at her and grinned. “But if you knew me so well, then you should have also known it would be unwise to meet me here alone where nobody could witness your demise.”
He let loose a laser blast and it flew across the room. Mere centimeters before hitting Jegra’s face, it deflected off of an invisible shield and then blew a hole in the wall of the palace.
An energy field of blue flickered around Jegra as she stood up. Her eyes held Dakroth’s gaze and the calm, cool look in them disturbed him greatly. It was as though she had anticipated his every treacherous move.
“I don’t know how you did that,” he growled, “but you won’t be so lucky the next time.”
She started down the stairs toward him which caused him to grow tense and panic began to fill his chest. Fumbling back, he shot off several more blasts in a desperate attempt to stop her before she reached him. But they, too, deflected away from Jegra. Small explosions erupted where the ratcheted laser blasts impacted.
“How are you doing this?” he roared, staggering back to try to keep his distance. But soon enough, she was upon him.
Jegra glided across the distance that separated them, grabbed Dakroth by his throat, and hoisted him into the air. She held him up; her eyes remained serene as she strangled him. She wanted him to know he meant nothing to her, and that, if she wanted to, she could squash him like a bug.
The emperor wheezed through his crushed windpipes, “Wait! *ack* We can … *ack* … come to some kind of … *ack* … agreement!”
Jegra clamped down even harder and watched him struggle to pry her fingers away from his throat. His legs kicked uselessly in the air as he squirmed to escape her grasp.
