Galaxy Under Siege

by Tristan Vick

  Astounded by Jegra’s healing ability, which she knew to be more than human, Karina’s mouth hung open in astonishment.

  “But how...I mean...why would they have me to do such a thing knowing it would barely leave a scratch on you?”

  “Like meeting an unfamiliar combatant in the gladiatorial arena...they’re testing you. Looking for your weaknesses. At the same time, challenging your willpower and your resolve. They want to see if they can exploit those weaknesses and use them against you.”

  “For what end?” Karina asked.

  “To see if they can make you and your people into subservient slaves, or, in your case, assassins. Either that, or whether they need to eradicate what remains of humanity because you show a resilience that threatens their rise to power.”

  “And I failed,” Karina said aloud, looking down at her feet in shame. Not only was she ashamed for being weak to resist the influence of this alien force, but ashamed by the fact that, as the representative of her people, she was supposed to be the one who stayed strong. Who didn’t cave in and who never gave up.

  But here she was; her willpower truly tested for the first time and, contrary to what she thought she knew about her strength of will, she’d crumpled as easily as tinfoil.

  A gentle finger brought her chin up and Karina raised her blue eyes and locked onto Jegra’s gaze.

  “Who said you needed to be strong?” Jegra asked, smiling at her with a puckish grin. “Leave that up to me. After all, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I am the Empress of the Galaxy.” She winked at Karina and then gestured for her to be seated.

  Lianica looked over at Jegra, who shot her a stern glance which told her to back off, and she bowed her head and stepped back, giving Karina room to breathe.

  Although she didn’t like it, since she couldn’t be certain there weren’t more sleeper agents hidden somewhere in the banquet hall, she reluctantly took her seat. Leaning over, she whispered orders into Lieutenant Brei’Alas’s ear.

  After a moment, when Karina was certain nothing ill-fated was going to happen to her, she let out a deep sigh. Finally, she looked over at the empress and said, “You’re not what I expected.”

  “And what were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know. Less bodybuilder and more blue-collar American farm girl, perhaps?”

  Jegra laughed. “I’ve never been to the gym in my adult life. Back on Earth, I was a librarian in Omaha, Nebraska. But, as you can clearly see,” she said, fanning her hand across her hefty chest and drawing attention to her improved physique, “after my abduction my entire body was enhanced from head to foot and everything in between.”

  “Oh...” Karina said, taking it all in as her gaze settled firmly onto Jegra’s cleavage and lingered there for a moment, “I see.”

  “Korridium blades are one of the few things that can cut through my enhanced flesh...proving I’m not invincible...just extremely...how shall I put it...resilient.”

  “I suppose you’d have to be in order to be able to adapt to another civilization’s culture, let alone ascend to be its ruler.”

  She smiled at the compliment and then leaned back in her chair as a team of waiters brought the first entrée over to the table and, in a simultaneous motion, served the entire main table all at the same time.

  As empress, Jegra liked the idea of a leader being served at the same time as her people. There was no reason a king should eat first when there are people starving throughout the kingdom. Such a king was either incompetent or cruel, if not both. As such, she always liked to be served along with her people, and feast together in a show of solidarity. It spoke to her sense of justice and equality.

  She gestured for Karina to take a bite of what appeared to be a slice of pineapple atop a red sea bream, her favorite kind of fish. Although, noting it had six eyes, she knew it was some kind of off world alien variety.

  Karina picked up her knife and fork and cutting into the fish took a large bite and began chewing her food with an almost euphoric delight. In fact, she’d gone for so long without a real, home-cooked meal that her eyes began tearing up from the sudden overwhelming joy of it. Still chewing a mouthful of fish, she wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

  Pleased that her guest was enjoying her meal, Jegra smiled and then, raising her cloth napkin to her mouth, she dabbed away any morsels of food and lightly cleared her throat.

  “You’re a scientist,” Jegra asked, keeping her gaze fixed on Karina.

  “Yes,” answered Karina, her mouth full of food. “I have degrees in Engineering and Astrobiology.”

  “So, you of all people ought to know that we must evolve and adapt or risk extinction.” Karina merely nodded along as Jegra talked. “That’s my advice to you now, Madam President. You must evolve—not only as a species, but you must also evolve your way of thinking. You must adapt—not only to survive but also to persevere.”

  At this juncture, Karina put down her knife and fork to give Jegra her full attention. After all, here was a woman who had succeeded in surviving against all odds. Needless to say, it wasn’t advice you simply brushed aside. It was advice you took to heart.

  “Much of what I have experienced since my abduction has been about adapting to survive. Once you can will yourself to change, then a whole new world will be opened up to you. It’s not easy. Not everyone can do it. But if you want the Human race to endure—you’re going to have to become fluid. Be like water, Karina. Be malleable. Form yourself to the environment. But never lose sight of who or what you are—because like water—someday you will learn to move mountains.”

  When the Arkadian king prawn arrived, it sat on the central platter and was the size of a grown person’s forearm. It came with a salad slathered in a savory vinaigrette wine dressing. Once everyone had been served, Jegra beckoned the delegation to dig in with a simple wave of the hand.

  Some of the visitors moaned quietly as the savory juices of melted butter and sweet tasting prawn flooded into their mouths. Others, feeling overwhelmed by their first real meal in fifteen months, let tears of joy stream from their eyes. Jegra smiled warmly when Karina let a small moan of culinary satisfaction slip out of her own lips and then quickly covered them up with her napkin and blushed as though she’d been caught skinny dipping after stepping out of the local pond.

  “That good, huh?”

  Even Karina couldn’t deny the humor of it and let out a small chortle, giving the empress a sideways glance as her cheeks flushed with further embarrassment. “Sorry,” she apologized.

  Jegra shook her head. “No need to apologize.”

  “My compliments to the chef,” Karina said. “I haven’t felt this good in...well, you get the picture.” She paused and looked over at Jegra, studying the empress’s face. To the contrary of what Karina had expected to find, Jegra was just as laid back as any girl from Nebraska could possibly be. There wasn’t the slightest trace of arrogance or superiority about her, and she confirmed as much when she let out a loud belch.

  Surprised, Karina’s eyes widened and found Jegra’s. When their wide-eyed gazes locked, both women burst out laughing.

  A few moments later, as things settled down, Jegra stood up and clapped twice so loudly that the force behind it rattled the dishware and shook the lighting panels on the walls.

  Naturally, this caught everyone’s attention and as they looked up from their meals, harpsichord music began to play. Entering the dining hall from a side entrance, two Bre’lal women glided into the room wearing emerald green ballerina pointe shoes and see-through gowns that were part of the traditional Arkadian ceremonial culture.

  Raised up onto their delicate toes, the green-skinned beauties leapt and twirled, their gossamer clothing showing off tantalizing glimpses of flesh as they performed a rather sensual dance as a type of greeting.

  As Jegra settled back into her seat to admire the performance, she even caught a hint of some traditional Nyctan courtship movements thrown into the traditional Bre�
�lal dance. It was a fusion, representing the synthesis of cultures, peoples, and ways of thinking. The dance itself was a kind of language that reflected everything from the struggle for peace and harmony to the deep loss of violent wars.

  As the last strings were plucked, the two bonnie dancers finished with the sensual embrace of lovers.

  Once the performance came to an end, the attendees gave a standing ovation. The Bre’lal women, holding hands, turned to the crowd and curtseyed. Afterwards, they twirled and pranced away, exiting the same way they had come in.

  “That was lovely,” Karina said, slowly sinking back into her chair as dessert was brought out. The evening’s dessert appeared to be a kind of gelato with a garnish of fresh berries and a warm sauce laced with edible glitter.

  Anxiously awaiting the mouth-watering delights, Karina turned to her host and asked another question. She had so many that she was just dying to ask, but she didn’t want to seem too fervid in her inquisitiveness. “How many species are there?”

  Lieutenant Brei’Alas, who was situated on the other side of Karina, answered on the empress’s behalf faster than she could so much as offer a reply.

  “Oh, that’s a great question. There are currently one hundred and fifty-seven cognitively advanced species listed in the official census of the Commonwealth systems. That’s what we call the alliance of peaceful worlds and independent empires that have joined in commercial trade and have signed treaties declaring a truce of the thirty-year trade war between the Nyctans and Dagons. But all that, I’m afraid, has come to an end with these new invaders who have lain siege to our sector of the galaxy and destabilized the entire cosmic alliance.”

  “Yes, lieutenant, that’s...highly informative, thank you,” Jegra said, stopping the girl before she droned on at length about the peace accords and boring politics of it all.

  It was no secret that Brei was a nervous talker, yet if you managed to get a glass of wine into her, and she’d had three already, she became even more of a chatter box. Often jumping from one topic to another at a brisk pace, with no rhyme or reason to her method of selecting said topics, but always finding connections among the most unfamiliar things.

  She was a fascinating woman, to say the least.

  Brei smiled and gulped down a hiccup. She picked up her glass of pinot gris and gulped it down hastily. Once she’d finished it off, she promptly extended the glass for the passing waiter to refill.

  As fresh wine poured into her cup, a maudlin grin came over the girl’s face as she watched the white liquid fill to the brim. The waiter continued on to replenish other glasses and Brei, sipped from the lip of the glass so as not to let a single drop spill over and go to waste.

  “My people’s world was destroyed too, I’m afraid,” a gruff sounding voice informed their guest. Karina leaned over the table slightly and turned to see who had spoken when she noticed that sitting on the other side of the empress was a talking satyr. Her mouth fell open again as she beheld the mythical creature sitting so near her.

  “Y-you’re a...”

  “Yes, my dear. A very dashing young-man of one hundred and eighty-seven of your Earth years old. But more to the point, I’m a noble satyr of Galliforn. Sadly enough, it would seem that both our peoples are in the same boat, so to speak, as the crazed entity calling itself H’aaztre also destroyed my homeworld.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Karina replied.

  “As I am yours,” the satyr responded with a solemn, yet somehow consoling nod. He raised his glass to her and then turned his attention back to his dessert, which sat in front of him, tempting him to put down his drink and partake of its luscious sweetness instead.

  The evening wore on, and soon everyone had full stomachs and was pleasantly sozzled. Deciding it was as good a time as any to give a closing address and maybe let people retire for the evening, Jegra stood up and clinked her fork on her wine glass. This caused the delegation of dinner guests to stop whatever conversation they had drifted into in the amicable spirit of celebration and turn their attention to her.

  “Ladies and gentlemen from all the esteemed worlds of the Commonwealth and beyond...”

  After getting their attention, she brushed her dress down, feeling a little bit fidgety. Public speaking wasn’t exactly her forte, even though she seemed to be doing an awful lot of it lately. She cleared her throat and continued on with her speech.

  “I know we are facing trying times. But as long as we face these challenges together, there is no obstacle we cannot overcome. In the meantime, you are all free to stay as long as you desire, leave when you are content. My servants shall see you safely back to your personal quarters whenever you are ready to call it a night. Feel free to get to know one another. Mingle. Make new friends. And we’ll convene sometime tomorrow...after all our hangovers have worn off.”

  There was a round of laughter and Jegra paused long enough for it to die down so she could finish her speech.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I’ve had too much wine and must, humbly, retire for the evening.”

  Another round of applause accompanied her as she turned to leave. Only Brei’Alas and her Imperial bodyguards followed after her, while Lianica and the admiral remained behind as they continued getting to know their new guests.

  Before Jegra could leave the dining hall, however, the entire congregation of Martian Alliance Earth delegates stood at attention and saluted as the empress strode by.

  When she reached the door, she turned and gave the Dagon salute. Her crew and guests all returned the salute, even President Karina Nazimova paid her respects to the empress.

  Overwhelmed by their gesture of gratitude, Jegra smiled one last time and then spun around and stepped forward, the sliding doors of the dining hall parting for her to leave.

  Barrion stood in the entrance, blocking her exit. Nearly colliding with him, Jegra reflexively drew back. That’s when she noticed that he was completely strapped with explosives in what seemed to be a fully activated suicide vest.

  “Oh, my Goddess,” Brei’Alas gasped.

  “I’m sorry,” Barrion whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She told me to...”

  The Imperial guards bull rushed him, but even so, they were too late. Barrion’s thumb came down on the detonator.

  The guards who’d rushed forward were picked up by the explosion and thrown back. In that split-second window, Jegra moved swiftly and shoved Brei’Alas behind her. “Watch out!”

  Jegra threw up her hands as the fireball that had swallowed up her guards plumed toward her. But when it didn’t vaporize her, she peered up over her extended hand to find the bubbling wall of fire frozen mere inches in front of her fingertips.

  The look of stunned astonishment plastered on her face said it all.

  “Hang on,” a voice rang out.

  The empress turned to find Brei’s hand on her shoulder. Sweat trickled down her forehead and her nose bled. At the same time, her eyes seemed to be lacquered with the color of midnight. The trail of blood from her left nostril dripped from her nose down to her lip and then dribbled down her chin, and her eyes slowly filled with the swirling, star dappled, vista of a cosmic expanse.

  Brei began to shake and the room began to wobble and distort. Everything blurred out of focus and reality began to fold in on itself.

  “When we reset,” she managed to say with some effort under the strain of her powers, “I’ll be the only one who remembers what happened.”

  “Do your best to warn me, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

  Brei nodded and the room blinked out of existence.

  12

  Sticky, crimson blood dripped off of Danica’s metallic fist like some repulsive mucus as she stood over a battered body tied to a chair, panting heavily as the dark shadows of the dimly lit room blotted out her eyes.

  She’d worked up a sweat beating Gerard Van Zallek to a bloody, puss-faced, pulp. He slouched forward in the chair, his arms bound by rope, and spit
a blood infused glob of saliva at her feet.

  “Go ahead, you bitch,” he mumbled through his swollen mouth. “Have your fun. But when I get out of here, I’m going to fucking kill y—”

  Thwak!

  Before he could finish his sentence, his head flew back with a crack as she struck him one more time for good measure. This time she had hit him hard enough to dislodge a tooth and he spat it up.

  “If you have the energy to talk, then we’re not even close to being finished here.”

  “Fuck you,” he growled, his disdain for her clinging to every syllable.

  This time his blood-laced saliva landed on her pants leg and she looked down at the disagreeable stain. When she looked up again, he was running his tongue along his swollen gums, doing a mental tally of how many teeth he had left.

  “I can do this all day. So, do you want to move on to round two or do you want to tell me how Nividium 3 is finding itself traded off world during a siege? Who’s helping you?”

  “Helping me?” he scoffed. “My drug trade was already flourishing before you and I ever met, you stupid cow.”

  “Your drug trade didn’t have Nephilim and Nyctan checkpoints to worry about back then. Now they do. But it’s more than just expert smuggling tactics, because it seems like they’re ignoring the fact that Nividium even exists. So, either you’ve figured out the loophole of the century or...you have help.”

  A dubious smile on his bruised mouth, he shrugged. “Even if I did have help, I wouldn’t tell you a damn thing.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, cracking him again. Thwak!

  “Ow,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “That one actually hurt.”

  When she raised her fist to strike him again, he was finally prompted to beg for mercy. He’d been doing his best to put on a tough-guy act, but she was relentless. And he wasn’t sure how much more of this pummeling he could take.

  “Wait! Wait,” Zallek pleaded. “I can’t give you what you want, anyway, because she’s protected. By the voice.”