by Tristan Vick
“Just follow my lead,” he replied. She nodded and then took his side. Tapping his wrist the emergency teleport signal was sent to the ship hovering high above them. He then grabbed Callestra by the waist and drew her into him. She chirped from the unexpected surprise and looked up into his red eyes with her magenta ones, a subtle smile hovering playfully about her lips.
As they held one another, the red teleportation beam came down to collect them. The lines of light seemed to divide their bodies up into thin strips and then, piece by piece, and in no discernible order, the strips whisked them away up to the ship.
When they manifested on the enemy cruiser, they found themselves standing on what appeared to be the command center, surrounded by a dozen guards all wearing glossy black and gold lined, laser resistant body armor.
Many of the Nephilim soldiers had what looked like rocket packs, which Callestra recognized as their wing sheaths. Metal wings could unfold from the backs of the soldiers, sending them gliding on the air. This allowed wave after wave of the soldiers to deploy from drop ships onto alien worlds without ever having to set the ships down. The Nephilim rained down from the skies like a plague of locusts. It’s what made their military so terrifying—they were legion.
Dakroth and Callestra turned to find The Voice of H’aaztre herself, Azra’il Nun, standing opposite them with a thrilled smile on her face.
“You!” Callestra growled, coming face to face with her sworn enemy. Realizing that if the woman so much as opened her mouth it could seal their doom, she didn’t take any chances and quickly lunged forward, both hands reaching out to choke Azra’il Nun’s throat before she had the chance to speak.
Blue electricity crackled and before she could wrap her hands around the woman’s neck, one of The Voice’s personal guards intercepted her with his stun rod and she crashed to the ground, her body tensing up from the tendrils of blue electricity.
When the charge had stopped, Callestra slowly uncoiled, groaning from the intense pain of the jolt. Muttering some obscenity or another under her breath, she looked up at the guard with a fearsome glare.
He didn’t seem much intimidated by it, however, seeing as he merely reached down and jabbed the sparking and crackling end of the rod into her tender side once more as a warning not to get any bright ideas.
“Azra’il Nun, as I live and breathe,” Dakroth said with a diplomatic grin. “It’s been a long time.”
“Azra’il Nun is dead,” the woman said in a vexed tone. “I am The Voice of the almighty H’aaztre.”
“The Voice?” Dakroth echoed, rubbing his chin contemplatively.
“His Word is his Will and his Will is my calling.”
“How quaint.”
“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot,” The Voice replied in a less than flattering tone. “You’re the king who doesn’t believe in anything but himself.”
“And what’s wrong with having a little bit of faith in oneself?” he asked.
She smiled but did not offer any reply as that would merely stroke his ego. Nodding at Callestra, who lay curled up at her feet, she insisted, “Why don’t you help your girlfriend up and maybe we can have a civil conversation?”
“I’ll show you civil,” Callestra growled, staggering to her feet and taking a step toward Azra’il Nun.
The stun rod came at her again, but this time she was prepared for it. Reaching out, she clutched the guard’s wrist, stopping the tip of the rod mere centimeters from electrocuting her whole face.
Little blue arcs of electricity crawled along the shaft and convened at its rounded tip. Drawing it near, Callestra opened her mouth and licked the tip. The sound of saliva sizzling could be heard and then she quickly pulled back, little tendrils of electricity stretching out from the rod and dancing across her teeth and lips.
Distracted by the lewd simulation of fellatio, the guard never even saw it coming. In the blink of an eye, Callestra twisted the guard’s wrist inward, drew him into her body while at the same time wrenching his baton wielding hand, hard.
She dropped her shoulder, rolled him onto her back, and then, still holding his arm, used both the strength of her legs and the momentum of his fall to flip him over her body.
He went up and over and then crashed down onto the ground with a harsh thud. A bit rattled by the speed and strength of such a slender woman, he gazed up at her with bewildered eyes. Standing over her conquest, Callestra looked down at him with a disappointed smirk as she held the stun rod in her hand that she’d stripped from him. She clicked the switch and let it crackle menacingly, feigning to zap him with his own weapon.
Unimpressed by the guard, she tossed the stun rod to the ground and then looked back up at Azra’il Nun with a hard glare that dared her to come at her again.
Instead of playing her little game, however, Azra’il just grinned and said, “Stay put, my pet.” She then turned to Dakroth and gestured for him to step out onto the main bridge with her. “Please,” she insisted, her gaze settling upon Dakroth, “This way.”
“Let’s dispense with the formalities, Azra’il,” Dakroth said, not budging. “You need something from me, otherwise we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
The Voice raised a fascinated eyebrow when he didn’t heed her command. “Impressive,” she said. “Not many can resist my powers of persuasion.”
A debonair grin formed on Dakroth’s lips. “My dear, silly woman. I’m not just anyone. I’m the Emperor of the Dagon Empire, Sovereign Lord of Seven Sectors, and the rightful heir to my father’s legacy! And what are you but a glorified megaphone for an over-inflated ego that thinks itself a god?”
She struck him across his face with the palm of her hand. The forceful smack resounded throughout the whole bridge and caused him to drop to one knee. Her strength was impressive, but nothing he couldn’t handle.
“How dare you speak to me like that!” she snarled. “I am no mere messenger. I am the Authority of the Gilded Master Himself. I am His Will, his Voice, and you will know your place, little man.”
Callestra moaned through her clenched jaw as she tried to fight against the Voice’s influence, but her command to stay put was resolute. Still, seeing Dakroth bitch-slapped like that only pissed her off even more, so instead of giving up, she merely tried harder, the veins in her neck bulging as she attempted to will her muscles to respond and her limbs to move.
Slowly, Dakroth rose back up to his feet and stood his ground. He glared menacingly back at Azra’il, who stared at him with the same disdainful intensity. Then, without provocation and quite unexpectedly, Dakroth threw his head back and let out a loud, belly-clenching bellow of laughter.
“My how I’ve missed your beautiful, stubbornness, Azzie.”
Azra’il drew back, confused by his unexpected change of character. “If you’re trying to trick me into letting my guard down, I can assure you, it won’t work.”
“No. No, tricks,” replied Dakroth with a casual sigh. He looked around at the guards, scanning each of their faces and doing a quick check to see if any of them posed any kind of threat to him. None did. Confident he wasn’t in any immediate danger, he turned his attention back to Azra’il. “So, as much as I love to beat around a good bush, the real question is, what do you want, Azzie?”
She ignored his infantile pet name for her and cut to the chase. “Keeping you here for a full year was no accident. The only reason you escaped at all was because He willed it to be so.”
“Is that right?” Dakroth asked in a skeptical tone.
“It is,” she answered. “And what’s more, the only reason you’re standing here before me now is because I need you to do something for me.”
“I’m listening,” Dakroth replied.
“H’aaztre is worried that with Jegra out of her coma, she’ll inspire a rebellion. Many of the worlds see her as a driving force of peace in the galaxy. Now, you of all people should realize that we cannot allow such disloyalty to be sown. As such, I need you to lure her here so she can be dealt wit
h properly.”
“Ah, so you want me to be the bait?”
A thin, narrow smile formed on her mouth in silent acknowledgement.
“And what, may I ask, is in it for me?”
“You get to have your precious empire back.”
“Your master is willing to return to me the entire Dagon Empire simply to lure Jegra into a trap for you?”
“Is it so hard to believe? His Holiness is not without generosity. His Magnificence is loyal to those who are loyal to him. The only question is, Lord Emperor of the Galaxy, are you with him or against him?”
“Even if your words could be trusted, why should I help a master who held me captive for a year, starved and tortured me, and messed with my mind to the point of losing myself to utter and complete madness?”
“That’s just it, though. You didn’t lose yourself to the madness. You persevered. And here you stand...stronger than ever. You see, even the strongest steel blades can snap without first being tempered. But you have been through H’aaztre’s forge, you have been tempered to near imperviousness, and you have gained a strength you never knew you possessed.”
Dakroth smiled. Regardless of whether or not Azra’il Nun was telling him the truth, he had only one thing on his mind. Revenge. But knowing that he couldn’t take on her and half the Nephilim military all on his own, he acquiesced to her demands. It was about time he introduced The Voice to his lovely, royal pain-in-the-ass wife, Jegra.
“Fine,” he said, pretending to be disappointed in himself for giving up the empress so easily, “I’ll do it. But under one condition.”
“Name it,” Azra’il said.
“You let me be there to watch when you ruin her and her merry band of rebels.”
Azra’il Nun smiled and, in an icy tone, said, “As you wish, Lord Emperor Dakroth.”
14
Brei’s purple cheeks flushed hot magenta when the empress stopped her short of her getting into the sex positions she liked. The empress was being extremely patient with her, even as she was rambling on about how much her own boyfriend wanted a threesome with her and Jegra.
“Brei, it’s quite alright, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. We’re friends,” Jegra said with a laugh, halting the girl’s apprehensive ramblings.
Brei let out a huge sigh of relief and took in a deep breath. She had nearly talked to the point of passing out. Then it occurred to her that the empress had just called her a friend. “We’re friends?” she asked, somewhat in shock by the revelation.
Never in her wildest dreams did Brei have any reason to think that Jegra would consider her more than a loyal servant. To be elevated to the status of someone in the empress’s inner circle was both humbling and stupefying all at the same time.
“Of course, we are!” Jegra answered, placing a reassuring hand on Brei’s shoulder and giving her a gentle yet encouraging squeeze. “It’s not just anyone I let rave on at length about her lurid sex fantasies about me and her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” Brei, said, feeling awfully self-conscious for having let such private daydreams slip from her lips so recklessly. She hadn’t meant to offend. “I didn’t mean to imply...”
“Lieutenant,” Jegra interrupted, craning her neck and cocking her eyes at the girl, a puckish grin forming on her tightly pressed lips. “If you say another word, I’ll...”
Jegra stopped mid-sentence when she noticed Brei trembling with fear. Tears were streaming down the poor girl’s face and Jegra couldn’t help but feel sorry for the dressing down she was about to dole out. But then it dawned on her that this wasn’t about that. Something else was the matter.
“What is it?” asked Jegra, her voice growing serious.
Brei looked up at Jegra, wrapping her arms around herself and grabbing her other arm to try and hold herself still. “I just time jumped. Something terrible has happened.”
Jegra put both arms on the girl’s shoulders like a coach would an all-star player and looked her directly in her eyes. “All right. Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
Brei’Alas nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks that had unexpectedly began dampening her face.
LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Barrion stepped forward, raised a whistle to his Prussian blue lips, and gave the bosun’s call. All crew came to attention and turned toward the entrance.
“Introducing her majesty, the esteemed gladiatrix turned empress, Jegra Alakandra, Imperatrix of the Dagon Empire, Jewel of the Commonwealth, and Mother of all Dagon.”
This time, as the empress and her entourage passed by Barrion’s position, Brei’Alas leaned in and whispered something into the empress’s ear. She nodded and the girl broke from the ranks, grabbed Barrion by his arm and, to his surprise, dragged him out of the room.
Given Brei’Alas’s recollection of what happened in the not so distant future with Barrion, Jegra thought, remembering everything that Brei had divulged to her in her chambers, it was probably for the best that she dealt with him personally during tonight’s proceedings.
Karina and Jegra met face to face behind the table and greeted one another. This time, however, Jegra knew what to expect.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, President Nazimova,” Jegra said, extending her hand.
Karina Nazimova didn’t smile. She seemed to have nerves of her own but, then, unexpectedly blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
Jegra raised an eyebrow when Karina drew out a korridium alloy blade from behind her back and thrust it toward the empress’s gut.
The entire banquet hall gasped in simultaneous shock. At the same time, Karina looked down in dismay at the blade only to find that Jegra had clutched her wrist and stopped it before she could do any real damage.
It almost seemed as though the empress had anticipated the move before she’d ever made it. Almost as if she knew the attack was coming.
“I’m so, so sorry. S-she told me to do it. So, I had to do it. You understand, right?”
Jegra smiled casually, then pried the dagger out of Karina’s trembling hands and tossed it onto the table. Ignoring the transgression, she gestured for everyone who’d risen, waiting to leap to the empress’s aid if necessary, to be seated.
“But I don’t...I don’t understand,” Karina said, stumbling over her words. She was afraid that the empress would retaliate or that her security detail would pile onto her and drag her to the brig. Instead, to her surprise, Jegra had foreseen the attack and seemed to be rather cavalier about the whole ordeal. “Shouldn’t you be angrier with me or something?”
“It’ll be fine,” answered Jegra, brushing down her dress and then gesturing for Karina to take her seat.
Astounded by Jegra’s calm under pressure and her ability to maintain a diplomatic air even after an assassination attempt, Karina knew in her heart Jegra had to be more than human. “But how...I mean...why would they tell me to do such a thing, knowing it wouldn’t likely succeed?”
“They’re testing you. Testing your willpower. They want to see if they can make you all into obedient slaves. And if the strongest of you succumbs to them, then they win.”
“And I failed,” Karina said aloud, looking down in shame.
“Who said you were the strongest of us?” Jegra asked, her lips curling into a raffish grin.
“REMIND ME AGAIN WHAT we’re doing in the utility closet,” Barrion asked.
Brei brushed the supplies off a countertop and then hopped onto it. Seated on the counter, she leaned back and pulled her dress up. Spreading her legs, she smiled and said, “What does it look like?”
A crooked grin spread across Barrion’s lips. “You’re serious? Right here? Now?” He looked around uncertain, before finding her sparkling golden eyes looking back at him.
She nodded and, spreading her legs even more to reveal she wasn’t wearing any panties, he was already halfway done unfastening his pants when he got to her.
Before she could even finish unbuttoning her uniform, with a vigorous thrust of the
hips he entered her. She squeaked with the light sensation of tender pain and pleasure at the dry entry. But she was young and nubile and her body was always willing, and soon enough, things were moving as smoothly as ever.
It was a quick, messy, and dirty fuck in the utility closet. Not exactly her style, but she knew she needed to distract him somehow and this was the best she could come up with on such short notice. Besides, all that talk about sleeping with Jegra had really gotten her in the mood. She was almost shocked by how much she desired that fantasy to be her reality. But Barrion was sweet, and she truly loved him. So, she closed her eyes and let out a moan, thinking of Jegra but feeling him inside her.
Pleased with how his evening was turning out, Barrion finished and then, pulling out, tucked himself in and zipped his pants back up. Surprisingly, before he’d even finished dressing, Brei’s hand shot out and clasped onto his jacket lapel and confidently pulled him into her.
Their lips came together and after a deeply satisfying kiss, she slowly pushed his head down. He kissed her bare chest as he slid down her body and then paused between her thighs.
“Well, what are you waiting for? You got yours. It’s my turn.”
“It’s a little messy down here,” he said, reticently, looking back up at her in silent protest.
She slapped him lightly across the face. “And who made the mess?”
“I did,” he said, diverting his eyes and looking away in shame.
She grabbed his head and forced his face into her vulva. “Then you’d better clean it up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled in a muffled voice as her lips wrapped around his.
Fifteen minutes later, Barrion’s head buried between her thighs, she screamed out as the orgasm rippled through her entire body. It began at her head, ran down her tight neck, taught abdomen, and down her quivering thighs until finally finishing its course in her curled up toes.