by Tristan Vick
27
Liquid silver tendrils stretched out from the hull of the Shard and reached out toward the Skywend. In the blink of an eye, the numerous tendrils twisted, spiraled, and tightened around each other forming a cylindrical conduit. The lip of the silver tube rippled, as though it were composed of molten steel, and then, like the mouth of a vacuum, it wrapped its quivering lips around the docking port of the Skywend and latched on.
A loud clank sounded, signifying that the seemingly liquid metal docking arm was inexplicably solid again.
Jegra waited anxiously in front of the airlock, hopping up and down with excitement. When the airlock door melted away on her end, she could see the Skywend’s circular door roll away. Raven stepped through and smiled when she saw the empress waiting for her personally.
Raven, wearing a sleeveless white jumpsuit with teal sash, sauntered down the corridor, running her hand along the inside of the docking arm, admiring the smooth metallic surface of the state of the art korridium alloy called microphase korridium–a metal which was able to, via the use of specially designed nanostructures, change between a solid and molten form with just the addition of electrical signals.
Raven ducked under the archway of the airlock and stopped in front of Jegra, pleased by her white body suit, its low, straight cropped neckline barely able to hold in her cleavage. Both women smiled, then, unable to hold her giddiness back, Jegra, scooped Raven up into her arms and gave her a massive squeeze.
“I missed you so much!” she gushed.
Speechless, Raven merely patted the top of Jegra’s head. Unable to catch a full breath, she wheezed, “It’s nice…to see you again…too, Your Majesty.”
Jegra set Raven back on her feet and rolled her eyes. “Not you too?”
“Did I say something to offend? I didn’t mean…”
“No, it’s not that,” Jegra cut in. “It’s just that, you’re my close friend. And I don’t want my friends keeping me at an arm’s length simply because of some archaic rules about titles and formalities and all that nonsense. Just call me Jegra. That’s an order.”
“Empress!” a cheerful voice chimed and Skuld peeked out into the corridor.
Jegra buried her face in her palms and let out a long sigh. She couldn’t escape her title even if she tried. Slowly looking back up, she smiled warmly and waved at the always impossibly optimistic fish-man. There he was, approaching quickly, wearing his special breathing suit which looked like the perfect blend of a diving suit and an astronaut’s EV suit.
The giant, bowl-shaped helmet he wore as part of his environmental suit amplified his features, including the catfish-like tendrils that hung down either side of his mouth and made it look as though he had a long Fu Manchu mustache on his aquatic face.
“Mistress Alakandra,” Raven said, side-stepping her orders to call her by her first name, “In our search for you I happened across some vital intel that I think you’ll be quite interested in seeing.”
“Right,” Jegra said, realizing the family reunion was over. “In that case, follow me to my personal chambers.”
Just as Jegra turned and sauntered off, her hips swiveling seductively as she strode away, Skuld appeared next to Raven and nudged her elbow.
She ignored the dopy look on his face as he ogled the empress’s backside and then followed after Jegra with haste.
Once the three of them arrived at her quarters, she motioned for them to go on in ahead of her. Closing the chamber doors behind her, Jegra headed past the classic burgundy leather furniture arranged atop a luxurious claret carpet woven with a kaleidoscope of golden floral patterns. Matching gold tassels lined the edges of the plush carpet, and Jegra kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot across the splendid rug.
In the corner of her chambers, she approached a solid wall and waved her hand across it. The wall melted away to reveal a doorway and beyond, a room that glowed with the blue light of holovid computer displays.
Inside the room was a large semi-circle shaped desk. A large computer chair sat behind the desk which was surrounded by floating holovids. There were about seven displays open in all, each one tracking people of interest. On one of the displays, Danica and Ishtar fought in Arena City. On another of the displays, one of the Grendok clones was brokering an arms deal.
Jegra spun to face Raven and stuck a hand on her hip. “I’m all ears. What is it you wanted to talk about?”
Skuld watched in fascination as the doorway solidified behind him. “Amazing,” he said, genuinely impressed. He reached out with a webbed hand and touched the wall. It was completely solid. If you didn’t know where to look, you would never even know there was a secret chamber.
Raven unzipped her tactical suit, her lavender breasts swelling up to bulge over the tight edges of the restrictive apparel. Slipping her fingers in between her breasts, she fished out an orange glowing data stick and handed it to Jegra. “Everything is on this.”
“What is it?” Jegra asked, inspecting the data stick. It was made of a translucent orange glass with circuitry that glowed bright yellow beneath the smooth surface. Jegra placed the data stick on her desk and the golden veins seeped out of the device and extended into the desk itself, like the roots of a tree. Bringing up a new display, Jegra motioned her hand to enlarge the holographic image that hung in the air before them.
A schematic of the planet Jegra had been marooned on appeared. As the video played, it showed that the planet was in the middle of a massive wormhole. Their part of space was marked with a green glowing dot. Past the planet labeled as Planet X and beyond the long stretch of the wormhole’s spout that exited onto an uncharted sector of space, was a red dot. This dot signaled an unknown frontier. A place where nothing had ever returned from. The dreaded “dead space” beyond the rift, as it was known.
“We’re here,” Raven said, placing her finger over the green glowing dot. “And this is the planet you were marooned on.”
“Yeah, what is that place?” Jegra asked, eyeballing the planet with resentment. Needless to say, it wasn’t the loveliest place she’d ever been.
“It’s a fulcrum station,” Skuld answered.
Jegra turned and gave him a blank stare and smiled. “What in the galaxy is that?”
“Wormholes are highly unstable. Even naturally occurring ones often collapse in on themselves, reform elsewhere, and open up again at a different location. The Commonwealth gave up experimenting with wormhole travel long ago because they were impossible to traverse safely. A fulcrum station is a kind of pillar. A massive support beam that not only holds the wormhole in place but provides one with a reliable shortcut to the other side of the galaxy.”
“Is that where it exits?” Jegra asked. “The other side of our galaxy.”
“That’s just the thing,” Skuld relayed, waving his slender, webbed fingers across the holovid display and panning out. “It exits in a different galaxy entirely. And not just any galaxy, one that is halfway across the known universe.”
“Obviously the technology is beyond anything we have ever seen,” Raven said.
“But what’s so important, beyond finding a stable wormhole, that you had to rush to find me?”
“When we couldn’t locate your emergency tracker, Skuld had the idea to develop a method for tracking the squid entities. He managed to hone in on their particular radiation, which leaves a residual footprint, and found this.”
Raven swiped up and a transparent overlay flew up and then bonded with the holovid. Golden traces, like time-lapse photography of taillights, stretched from her end of space all the way toward the other end of the wormhole. Every single line, for every squid’s passage, either originated in or returned to the mouth of the wormhole opposite them.
“They’re coming from the other galaxy.”
“Correct,” Raven replied. “Every squid’s route traces right back to here.” Her finger landed on the red dot that marked the coordinates of the uncharted galaxy.
“I’m not one to be an alarmi
st, but the space-squids pose a very real threat to our sector of space. They’ve been trickling over in a small, exploratory, capacity. First there was one sighting. Then a couple more. Now we’re hearing of sightings every day.”
“They’re foraging,” Jegra said.
“Exactly!” Skuld said, snapping his fingers as if a lightbulb went on in his head. “Like ants and other wingless insects. They’re searching for food.”
“And they found some,” Raven said. Swiping off the display, she turned to Jegra with a stern gaze. “I fear that in the coming months, more of those entities will breach into our space. And, as you already know, they’re a bitch to kill.”
“You fear a full-on invasion.”
“Our fusion engines supply them with the energy they need to reproduce,” Skuld interjected. “Chances are, they have gotten a taste of our technology, which means more will be coming any day now.”
“I thought you should know,” Raven said, touching Jegra’s arm. “Because you, of all the galaxy’s leaders, are probably the only one who cares enough about others to do something about it.”
Jegra glanced down at Raven’s hand on her arm and smiled. Looking back up, her eyes met Raven’s enhanced purple ones, and they held one another’s gaze until Raven grew overly self-conscious regarding their brief intimacy and looked away.
“I’ll debrief the captain and figure out a plan. I appreciate your bringing this information to my attention.”
Raven crossed her right fist over her chest and Jegra did the same. She needn’t salute the empress, but it was habit from when she’d served in the military. And Jegra was, after all, the Empress of the Dagon Empire.
“Skuld,” Jegra said, looking over at the fish-man. “You’re dismissed. Feel free to tell the others to come aboard and help themselves to the mess hall and any recreational activities they may desire.”
“Roger that, Your Majesty.”
Jegra clinched her jaw and smiled through the annoyance she felt for such meaningless trivialities.
Skuld waved his hand in front of the wall and a small patch dissolved, revealing the exit. “Amazing! Just like the tesseract.”
“Tesseract?” Jegra inquired, shooting Raven a peculiar look.
“It’s a long story,” Raven said.
Skuld swung his lanky arms as he strode out into the empress’s personal chambers. The two women watched him cut across her room and then leave.
“I heard about Danica. You need to talk?”
“You read my mind,” Jegra answered, offering the chair behind her desk to Raven.
Raven dipped her chin in gratitude and took her seat. Leaning back, Jegra sat on the edge of the desk and crossed one leg over the other. “I know Dakroth expects me to go in guns blazing. He wants the Senate to think I’m a liability so that they’ll turn against me. So, that’s clearly not an option. Another strategy is I sneak in and mount a covert rescue operation. But he’ll likely be ready for that, too. Everything I do is likely being tracked. And even aboard my own ship I don’t know who is and who isn’t a spy.”
“Ah, I see,” Raven said, leaning back and resting her chin on her palm. “You need me to carry out the rescue mission while you distract the emperor.”
“Exactly.”
Raven smiled. “I think we can handle that.”
Jegra leaned forward, sitting straight up with excitement. “Really?”
“Anything for you, Your Majes…” Raven trailed off and gave Jegra an apologetic look.
“It’s fine,” Jegra said, waving away the slip up.
Raven rose to her feet and stood directly before Jegra. “Listen, Jegra, I’m always here for you. You know that.”
Unable to keep her emotions in check, Jegra threw her arms around Raven and gave her another impossibly strong squeeze.
Raven fell into Jegra, her head nestling into Jegra’s shoulder as they embraced one another. Slowly, she raised her hands, hesitating briefly before wrapping them around Jegra’s waist. Returning displays of affection wasn’t exactly her strong suit, but she felt a surprisingly close bond to the empress. She imagined that they’d be friends for a long, long time to come. And that suited her just fine.
After what seemed to be an abnormally long stretch of time, Raven finally said, “You can stop hugging me now.”
“Right,” Jegra said, embarrassed that she may have overdone it, burdening Raven with all kinds of affection she probably didn’t want. She relinquished Raven and drew back, only to find Raven grinning pleasantly at her. She couldn’t help but laugh when she saw that Raven wasn’t upset with her. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“As I was saying, if there’s ever anything you need, don’t hesitate to call on me.” Raven turned to go and walked out of the secret room and into Jegra’s main chambers.
Jegra followed her out, the invisible door conveniently materializing behind her, and she cleared her throat, stopping her friend in her tracks.
Raven glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Was there something else?”
“Nothing of importance. I was just sort of wondering if…” Jegra ran her fingers nervously through her hair and looked up at Raven, “you’d like to get a couple’s massage with me and then take a rejuvenating mud bath?”
Jegra bit her bottom lip as she waited for Raven’s reply. She felt surprisingly close to this woman even though they barely knew each other. But every time they’d had a chance to talk, it was always like talking to a friend she hadn’t seen in years.
“I appreciate the offer,” Raven said, brushing her purple hair out of her eyes, “but I need to run a full spectrum diagnostic scan of the ship before we head off.”
“Let my people do that for you,” Jegra said without thinking.
Raven raised an eyebrow and shot her a stern look. “You know I don’t let anyone touch my baby,” she replied.
“Right,” Jegra said, kicking herself. “What was I thinking?”
Seeing that Jegra felt let down by her rejection, Raven took a step toward the empress. Waving her hand to the side, she said, “Look, maybe once the diagnostic scan is complete, if there’s still time, we can do some mud wrestling, if you’d like.”
Jegra held back a laugh. “Not, mud wrestling,” she informed Raven, a half grin curling onto her face as she gently corrected her friend’s mistake. “A mud bath. Mud wrestling is where we tear each other’s clothes off and smear mud over each other’s bare-naked bodies for no reason.”
“Sparring in such conditions is an excellent way to improve one’s skills,” Raven answered. Without skipping a beat, she added, “It teaches you how to grapple at a disadvantage, where adapting is the key to overcoming your opponent, and where you must rely on strategy and skill rather than brute strength.” Raven held her gaze, and then smiled and winked at Jegra.
Jegra nudged Raven’s shoulder. “You’re messing with me!”
Raven smiled. “No, I’m not. I’ll take you down so fast your head will be spinning.”
“Oh?” Jegra chuckled. “I’d like to see you try it.”
Both women laughed at the absurdity of agreeing to an impromptu mud wrestling match between them. But a deal was a deal and Jegra was going to hold her to it. And Raven knew she would.
Raven looked into Jegra’s eyes one last time, as if to test the limits of their platonic bond, and then bowed politely and took her leave.
Jegra stood there and watched her step out into the corridor. She raised her hand to motion for Raven to hold up, but whatever question she’d been about to ask quickly dissipated from her thoughts. She pulled her hand back and found her cheeks were flush with a rosy tinge. Touching her face, she smiled and watched Raven glance back one last time before disappearing around the corner of the corridor.
Jegra leaned against the door frame of her entrance and smiled to herself. That woman never ceases to amaze, she thought. No sooner had she entered her room, her chamber doors sliding shut behind her, when the doorbell chimed.
She sto
pped mid-stride and turned back toward the door. She gazed at it curiously, and thinking it might be Raven returning, she quickly said, “Come in.”
The door remained shut, but chimed again.
“I said, enter,” she said in a more formal tone.
Still, the door did not open. Letting out a sigh, she rolled her eyes and then reached out and touched the touch control panel on the wall and the doors whispered open.
Jegra looked up and, as the shock sank in, she gasped. “It’s you.”
28
The teal ocean which ran up to the foot of the royal palace on Dagon Prime rippled with the disturbance of Dakroth’s royal battlecruiser as the landing thrusters revved up to full. Greenish-blue waves swirled into white froth as the ship lowered into docking position. A docking ramp extend from the seaward facing terrace and met the cruiser’s lower hatch and locked into place with a loud clank. The minimalist, stealth-like angles of the maroon ship stood in stark contrast to the elaborate Gothic-styled aesthetic of the royal palace.
With a mechanical whine, the ship’s hatch opened and Dakroth, wearing his all-white military dress uniform, replete with a flowing cape and golden lining, his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, marched across the ramp toward the terrace. Waiting for him there was a security team of about half a dozen royal guards. They had on their burgundy armor, helmets that sported a shark fin on top, and long, flowing, purple capes that concealed a rifle-sword, basically a double-bladed sword with a gun barrel running the length between them—the signature weapon of the royal guard.
The six guards stood in tight formation around a red-skinned woman who, in turn, stood glaring at Dakroth as he approached. Her wrists and ankles were shackled with heavy korridium restraints, and she wore only the black Targarian stingray leather bikini she’d been allowed to take from one of the dead contestants she’d defeated earlier that day. Right after the match, she was summoned to her chambers where she’d found the royal guard waiting for her.