by Tristan Vick
She held him there until his eyelids began to flutter and he was about to black out. Finally, she relinquished her grasp and let him crumble to the floor.
Hacking and coughing, he sucked in as much air as he could, his lungs rattling as he fought his way back to consciousness.
“My dear Rhadamanthus, don’t you know who I am?”
“You are Jegra,” he replied. “Gladiatrix of the Galaxy.”
She immediately clutched him by his throat and hoisted him off his feet again. “I asked: Do you know who I am?” she growled.
This time her eyes were smoldering, like dark coals that were still hot enough to ignite anything they might touch. And she was sure to make him feel her fire and fury.
“*Ack!* You’re … *ack* … the Empress!”
She dropped him to the ground. “There. That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it, my dear husband?”
Emperor Dakroth rubbed his throat and looked up at her. She climbed back up the stairs and, once again, helped herself to his seat. Impressed by her cunning, he smiled.
“What is it you want, my dear wife?”
“I want you to understand something, sweetheart. I’m no longer yours to toy with. Imperial Law dictates that I have equal authority with you over the empire. I am your equal by law, though I think you might agree I’m slightly superior in every other way. If you continue to play these little mind games, I’ll outmatch you at every turn. Because, unlike you, my dear, I have friends.”
Danica stepped out from behind the throne, a blue shimmer of shielding flickering all around her and Jegra. Her eyes glowed hot yellow with radiant energy.
At the same time, from behind the pillars, emerged Raven Nightguard and her crew of top-notch mercenaries, all of them decked out in the finest armor Dagon credits could buy. Each of them was also notably equipped with the latest weaponry and tech.
Even the new Bre’lal girl, whom Jegra learned was called Raphine, was with them. If that wasn’t impressive enough, both Estriel and Sanakar joined them. Sanakar sported a new, bio-metal arm and flexed it, showing off, as they took Jegra’s side.
Dakroth scanned all their resolute faces and then, after a pause, laughed out loud. “You are a cunning one, my dear! It seems I chose wisely when I made you Empress of Dagon.”
Jegra stood up again and marched down the stairs. Nervous as to what she might do, Dakroth scuttled back. But she stopped twenty feet from him.
“There is a Nyctan saying you should heed, my love: ‘An eye for an eye. A heart for a heart. An oath for an oath.’”
“I am well aware of this expression,” Dakroth said. But his dismissiveness was gone. Now, she had his full attention.
“Thessalonica is mine. My palace is finishing completion as we speak. But don’t think for a minute that because I choose to live there, away from you, that I don’t have eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve had three weeks to plan and I’ve made powerful allies in that short time. So, I’m not going anywhere. But if you come at me again with these Machiavellian schemes to dominate me, then I’ll take that saying literally and I’ll rip out your eyes and your heart with my bare hands. That is my solemn oath.”
Finished, Jegra spun and left the throne room. Her elite troupe of warriors following her out in tight succession.
The last to leave was Kregor. As he passed the emperor he deliberately nudged Dakroth’s shoulder.
“Watch where you’re going, lizard!”
Kregor stopped and spun around. “Did you say something to me, blue-skin?” he hissed.
Dakroth was about to lose his cool when he realized that the Dragonian wore a class-7 series shield modulator. Not only was Jegra shielded from his laser blasts, so was her entire group of bodyguards.
Dakroth backed off. “No,” he grumbled.
Kregor snorted. “That’s what I thought.”
With that he turned and stormed out of the room.
Dakroth, still stunned by everything that had just transpired, slowly climbed the stairs and went over to his throne. Planting himself in the chair, he noted it was still warm, and despite himself, he was aroused thinking of Jegra’s beautiful body and unmatched prowess. He gazed out across the empty room, his mind deep in thought.
After a long, drawn out silence, he kicked his head back and began to bellow with laughter. Slumping down in his chair he rested his chin on his fist and stared out of the windows at Dagon and chuckled. Damn. he had chosen well. She’d played him. And played him good.
36
Arena City bustled with the sounds of construction. The new gladiatorial arena was being built and repairs to the rest of the city were nearing completion. Not only that, but Jegra’s palace was finished.
Jegra stood on her twelfth-story balcony, which overlooked the city, and scanned every inch of the activity going on below. Emerging from her personal chambers came Danica, wearing a see-through, deep purple lace lingerie which complimented her violet skin. Tossing her turquoise-purple ombre hair across her bare shoulder, she said, “I think you may have rattled him. It’s been three weeks and there hasn’t been a peep from Emperor Dakroth.”
Jegra turned around. Her dress was a translucent tangerine color which went with her bronzed, sunbaked skin. She wore her hair up and now had on a lot of makeup. Jewels adorned her neck and she wore elegant bracelets that coiled up her forearms like gilded serpents.
It was no secret–everyone had taken notice. She no longer looked the part of a slave. But the gladiator in her could still be seen in the finely sculpted ripples of her muscle tone, in the deep cut of her calves, and in the raw strength of her broad shoulders.
“He keeps sending me jewels,” she laughed, brushing her fingers along the opaline necklace she wore.
“He’s probably horny,” Danica teased. “He wants to win some favor back with you, so he’s showering you with gifts. He’ll probably invite you down to the royal palace for some wining and dining followed by a drunken and desperate attempt to seduce you.”
Jegra chortled. Danica’s description of Dakroth was spot on. “I’m afraid Dakroth’s sex privileges have been permanently revoked. Attempted murder has a way of turning off a girl’s romantic desires.”
“I hope they’re not completely shut down,” Danica said, sauntering across the balcony, her hips swiveling seductively. Meeting Jegra, she threw her arms around her hips and pressed her pelvis into Jegra’s thigh. Looking up into her partner’s eyes, she smiled. “Because I have something to confess.”
“A confession?” Jegra said, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“More of a question, really. I helped Dakroth hurt you in unimaginable ways, yet you found it in your heart to forgive me. And even after you found out about my terrible sins regarding the slaughter of countless innocent Nyctan lives, you still found room in your heart to love me. Why?”
“Because I saw the good in you, Danica. It’s always been there. But, like everyone else, you were afraid of the emperor. It’s why you blindly carried out his orders. In the end, we’re all just human.”
Danica balked and then made a sour face. “No need to be insulting.” She made sure Jegra knew it was all in jest. She used to be prejudiced against Jegra for what she viewed as an inferior genetic code.
As it turns out, Jegra’s genetic code may be the very key to unlocking the galaxy and uniting all the races and species within. In fact, it was Danica’s opinion that Jegra was far more valuable than any one realized. The only thing was, her research was incomplete.
Even with Jegra’s genome mapped, it was still unclear how her DNA could override that of other species’. But as soon as she solved the puzzle, she’d share her findings with Jegra.
Jegra turned her head and looked out at the arena. “The first fights will be in my honor,” she said. Her voice was neither sad nor hopeful. She was just stating a fact.
Stuck in their embrace, Danica turned her gaze to the arena as well. “How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t know how t
o feel. But Raven was right. I hear the whispers. The people across four quadrants and seven star systems are hailing me as their savior.”
“It was always part of the plan to make you into a legend.”
“In that much Dakroth succeeded. I just don’t feel like any great hero. I haven’t done anything deserving of their faith in me.”
“But you have. It’s not just silencing the emperor, Jegra. You have given them hope. Hope that they might rise beyond the harsh conditions of their miserable lives perchance to become great, just like you. And, maybe, this hope is enough to give rise to a better world.”
“Or a better galaxy,” added Jegra.
“Or that,” Danica laughed.
A sudden sandstorm erupted out of nowhere and the two women shielded their eyes. Squinting through the fine particles of sand, Jegra saw Dakroth’s shuttle decloak as it landed in the courtyard below.
To Jegra’s surprise, however, the only person to step off the shuttle was Meleh’kendar. He looked up at her from the courtyard twelve stories down and then rushed inside the palace.
Jegra shot Danica a confounded look. She shrugged as if to say she had no clue as to what was going on.
“Come on,” Jegra said, “We best go see what he wants.”
“Should I even be attending these meetings?” Danica asked as she slipped out of her evening clothes. “People might begin to suspect I’m influencing the choices of the Empress.”
“That’s why I’m officially promoting you to the title and rank of Premiere dame d’honneur.”
“What language is that?” Danica asked. The universal translator had failed to translate the French, apparently, they had said it best and the idiom stuck.
“It’s an old Earth language called French.”
“It sounds so beautiful. What does it mean?”
“The dame d’honneur was an office of the royal courts on ancient Earth. She was tasked with assisting the queen in anything and everything she might need. Do you feel up to the job?”
Danica smiled. “It sure beats pretending to be your consort everywhere we go.”
“I thought you liked being my consort?” Jegra teased, slipping into some day clothes.
She put on a rust colored, floor length, Kaleigh gown with crisscross halter top that was adorably chic while Danica slipped into a stylish, knee-length teal one-piece with a frill hemline. Not only did it accentuate her lovely curves and show off her stunning legs, but it also looked lovely in contrast with her purple skin.
“I much prefer to be your consort after sundown.”
“Oh, you do … do you?” Jegra laughed. Danica winked at her playfully doing little to hide the innuendo.
Dressed, the two women turned to one another. Danica wrapped her arms around Jegra and replied, “I’d be honored to serve you in any way you see fit.”
“Good,” replied Jegra, giving her girlfriend a peck on the lips. “Now, let’s get going. The sooner we appear, the sooner we can have our palace back to ourselves. We’ve kept everyone waiting long enough.”
Several minutes later Jegra stepped into the meeting room where Raven, Raphine, and Meleh’kendar sat chatting as they waited for her arrival. Everybody was situated around an enormous, round, stone table, just like the one of renowned Arthurian legend.
“What’s going on?” she asked, sitting herself down directly across from them. Danica quickly joined her, sitting on her right.
“It’s finally happened,” Meleh’kendar informed. But Jegra had no clue as to what he was on about.
“The Nephilim have returned.”
“Who?” Jegra asked.
“The Nephilim are an ancient warrior race, the sworn enemies of the Nyctan empire,” Danica informed.
“They’re not too fond of Dagons either,” Raven added.
“But weren’t they thought to be extinct?”
Meleh’kendar frowned. “The Nyctans had hunted them to near extinction, believing them to be the winged demons of light warned about in the Enchiridion, which prophesied that they would go to war with Hastur in an attempt to wrangle control of the universe.”
“The last Nephilim ships escaped around three hundred years ago,” Danica continued. “The Knights had warred with them for so long that a Nyctan victory seemed inevitable. But then, unexpectedly, the Nephilim just up and disappeared, vanishing from every known star system in charted space. Nobody had heard an utterance regarding them or seen a trace of them, until now.”
“They must have been recouping their losses all these centuries,” Raven said. “Three hundred years is certainly sufficient to rebuild a fleet and an army. Their forces must be tremendous.”
“Indeed, the outpost on Riverion reported at least six-hundred battle cruisers and at least a thousand other ships before the feed was cut out,” Meleh’kendar informed them.
“What of the Emperor?” Jegra asked.
“That’s what I’m here to see you about, your majesty. The emperor immediately responded to Riverion’s blackout as a military threat and a potential invasion and took the Subjugator along with five new Tetra class battle cruisers and went to intercept the fleet.” Meleh’kendar slid a holovid module to the center of the table and them brought up a three-dimensional holographic scene of burning wreckage. “This is all that is left of our armada.”
Jegra gasped. The Subjugator, the most powerful ship in the galaxy, lay in ruins along with five other state of the art battle cruisers.
“What could do this level of damage in such a short time?” Danica asked.
Meleh’kendar flicked his wrist and swiped to the left. The scene panned across the debris and the stars until it settled on three glowing objects. They were giant space-squids, made of light.
“For fuck’s sake!” Jegra balked, seeing the squidies again. “Just one of those things took out half a Nyctan and Dagon armada. Now there’s three of them?!”
“That’s not the worst part,” Meleh’kendar replied.
“No?” Jegra asked, her curiosity piqued as to what could be worse than a family of starship-gobbling-space-squids. She was now certain they were secret, Nephilim bio-weapons of mass destruction. Engineered to cripple both the Nyctans and the Dagons and use their very technology against them.
“The emperor has gone missing.”
“Not dead?” Danica asked.
“No,” he replied in earnest.
“That is bad news,” Jegra replied.
Danica and Raven both snickered.
Meleh’kendar smiled and glanced around the room at their faces, not understanding what was so funny, before continuing on with his debriefing. “None of the Subjugator’s crew survived, but initial long-range scans show that the emperor’s emergency captain’s yacht was launched prior to the explosion that crippled the ship.”
Meleh’kendar pulled his hand back from the hologram and it zoomed out. Stars and nebulae whisked by until a bright-green glowing dot appeared. He then zoomed in to the image, honing in on the dot. The emperor’s emergency escape yacht soon appeared in the middle of the room and as the image zoomed into maximum capacity the hologram flickered. The elongated pod had scorch marks from what appeared to be disruptor fire and was badly damaged. The emperor was adrift in space and, by the looks of it, his emergency life support was on the brink of failing.
“We spotted the emperor’s yacht this morning, but he was nowhere to be found. However, there was a message.”
Jegra motioned for him to play it.
The hologram flickered and the emperor’s face materialized before her. He had a gash in his forehead and was bleeding badly. Sparks rained down from the ceiling and the automated fire extinguishers on the ship hissed as they shot white puffs of dry chemical spray to douse the fires.
Dakroth turned toward the camera and said, “If anybody out there is receiving this, please send word to the Empress. The empire is under attack. Jegra, you’re the galaxy’s only hope.”
Suddenly, there was a flash and a large expl
osion. The emperor turned to look off-camera and then mumbled some panicked obscenities before the feed cut out completely.
Meleh’kendar gazed at Jegra with a worried look. “Majesty, you are now the Regnant Imperatrix of the Galaxy.”
Jegra stood up and paced the room as she took in all the information.
“The people need to hear your reassuring voice,” Danica said. “You must address your subjects.”
Jegra stopped pacing and looked at everyone.
Meleh’kendar, worry lines creasing his forehead, cleared his throat. “My grace, what are your orders?”
“Let the Nephilim come,” she said, after a long pause. “And we will show them the combined might of Nyctan and Dagon.” Turning her attention toward Meleh’kendar, she said, “Get me the Administratrix, Anaïs Nin, on the comm. We have some things to discuss. Also, get me a status update on my new personal battle cruiser, she needs to be ready for deployment before the Nephilim fleet arrives.”
Meleh’kendar stood up, crossed his right arm over his chest and took a deep bow. Having his orders, he rose back up, spun on his heels, and then raced off to complete his tasks.
Raven slowly rose from her seat. “I’ll debrief the crew on what’s happening and prep the Skywend for departure. Just give us the word when you’re ready.”
Jegra nodded and Raven returned the gesture, acknowledging her duty, then turned and left the room.
Danica put her hand on Jegra’s arm. “I’ll go prepare the royal briefing room so you can address the people.”
Jegra smiled at her and then watched her leave.
Slowly rising to her feet, Jegra exited the rear doors of the palace, doors that rose all the way to the ceiling, and stepped out by the glorious pool. Marble benches, in sets of two, ran along the entire one hundred meters of the glistening blue pool. The pool, which was just deep enough to allow Jegra her morning swim regimen, stretched all the way to the edge of a lush, green lawn.
The greenery of the palace grounds continued on for about another hundred meters where it came to an abrupt edge. A small perimeter forcefield kept the sand at bay, creating an epic landscape where the green sward and the golden sands of Thessalonica met. A perfectly clean line existing between them, neither spilling out onto the other. Everything was kept confined to its own particular region, a not so subtle metaphor for Jegra’s relationship with Dakroth.
