Imperatrix of the Galaxy

by Tristan Vick

  “My dear Ishtar,” Dakroth said as he approached the scowling woman. “It seems there’s been a change in plans. I have it on good authority that the empress herself is planning to attend the final humiliation bout.”

  Ishtar’s face swiftly changed from angry to worried. This turn of events complicated her mission. “But if she finds out Danica is fighting, she’ll likely put a stop to it. Ratings will plummet and your plans will be…”

  “You let me worry about Jegra,” the emperor interrupted. “You just take care of the vice admiral, as per our arrangement. I’ll handle the rest.”

  The devious grin on Dakroth’s face alerted Ishtar to the fact that he already had a plan in motion. Still, she knew what it would mean if she failed. Her head.

  “All the same, my lord, if something should go wrong?”

  “That’s why you’re there. To ensure that it doesn’t.” Dakroth walked right up to Ishtar and locked his hands behind his back as he looked down into the woman’s yellow-green eyes with his red ones. “Keep her alive until the Bull and Swan bout. Her humiliation bout won’t end until she is ravished and defiled and left for dead on the battlefield.”

  “You know the empress won’t allow her lover to be raped on live televid for all the Commonwealth to see.”

  “As I said. You let me worry about Jegra. You just make sure the woman you’re fighting with lives long enough to enjoy her ultimate humiliation. If she dies before that time, I will personally see to it that you do not walk off that field alive.”

  Ishtar frowned and looked away. Then, begrudgingly, she answered, “Your wish is my command, my lord.”

  Dakroth brushed past Ishtar, nudging her aside as he went. She gritted her teeth in anger and watched him out of the narrow corner of her eye.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, pausing briefly without so much as looking back, “after you fulfill your contract, our relationship is over. We never even met, you and I. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” Ishtar growled.

  Dakroth grinned and then walked off, disappearing through the tall glass doors of the palace’s southwest entrance.

  “Move it,” one of the guards said, shoving Ishtar from behind with his stun-baton.

  She glanced back at him, her eyes hard and cold, but he merely shoved her toward the ramp a second time. She staggered forward and began making her way across the ramp toward the ship. It would take her back to the moon hanging above them. Back to Arena City.

  Half way out, Ishtar looked up at the creamy yellow orb hanging in the sky. Although Thessalonica was a desert moon, it had several small oceans with green halos where life thrived. Around these green borders were the cities. The density of the cities acted like a protective barrier that allowed the fertile land between the towns and the oceans to thrive. It seemed as though a giant Elder God had clawed the moon only to reveal green flesh underneath the sand-worn scab-like surface.

  “Get moving,” the guard grumbled, and gave Ishtar another shove.

  “Touch me again, and I’ll snap your neck like a twig.”

  The guard looked at his comrades and they all shared a chuckle. Then, as predicted, he doubled down on his show of authority and shoved her even harder. “You’re not the one in charge here, princess. So, why don’t you shut that pretty mouth of yours and get moving.”

  When he went to shove her with the stun-baton again, she stepped to the side, grabbed his wrist, and then in one fluid motion of gymnastic expertise, swung up and around his arm. Wrapping her thighs around his neck, she brought him to the ground in an armbar, her thighs wrapped around his face. The guard squirmed to get away, but Ishtar squeezed her thighs and tugged his arm so hard that his neck snapped between her legs.

  She laughed and let go of his arm. “Warned you,” she said, grinning.

  A flurry of crackling batons came down on her all at once as the remaining five guards all took turns shocking her into submission. As soon as she fell limp, they dragged their friend away and then began another round of shocking her.

  One of the guards kicked her in her side and growled, “You think that’s funny, red-skinned bitch?”

  Two of the guards reached down and hoisted Ishtar up by her arms. As they did, the angry guard got in her face and said in a low and menacing voice. “You just killed my buddy. Give me one reason I shouldn’t end you right here and now.”

  Ishtar snapped her head forward and headbutted the guard right across the bridge of his nose. The crack was so loud the other guards tensed when they heard it.

  “Ow!” the guard screamed, reeling back. He grabbed his shattered nose, blood gushed down his face and dribbled off his chin. “You broke my nose, you stupid cunt!”

  Reaching around his back, the guard retrieved his riffle and, shouldering it, he jammed the muzzle against Ishtar’s forehead. Hand on the trigger, he trembled with rage and adrenaline.

  “Be careful, lover boy. You’re getting me all kinds of wet,” Ishtar said, grinning at the wild-eyed, blood-soaked guard.

  One of the other guards reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Lord Dakroth ordered us to return her to Arena City in one piece. I suggest you stow that weapon, comrade, and complete the task lest the emperor finds out you disobeyed a direct order.”

  Reluctant to let it go, the guard pressed the muzzle of his gun even harder into Ishtar’s head. Then, after a brief moment of weighing the pros and cons, he huffed out in frustration and reluctantly lowered his weapon.

  The two guards holding Ishtar by her arms began to drag her away. “That’s right,” she called out, taunting the guard she’d mangled. “You walk away…just like the little bitch you are.”

  The guard growled with rage and turned to come at her but was quickly restrained by the remaining two men. They held him back long enough for Ishtar to be taken safely aboard the cruiser.

  As her two escorts dragged her down the long corridor toward the brig, she glanced at one and then the other and cleared her throat. “I wasn’t kidding,” she said, a salacious smile forming on her black painted lips. “I’m riper than a Targarian peach right now. So, if you boys want to take a slight detour, I could make it worth your while.”

  They ignored her, their eyes and shark fin helmets fixed straight ahead. Without slowing, their boots clanked along the metal corridor with urgency. Before she knew it, they’d ushered her into a small room with a back cell cordoned off by four-inch nano-mesh glass. The very same glass that starship windows were made of. It was so strong that it could deflect a micro-meteorite shower and come out unscathed. Creating prison cells out of the stuff was smart, because it was nearly impervious yet allowed perfect visibility of the prisoner.

  The guard on Ishtar’s right took her by the arm and guided her into the cell, entering with her. Meanwhile, the second guard remained outside the cell where he could keep eyes on her if she tried anything.

  The first guard shoved Ishtar hard and she stumbled forward. Laughing, she slowly turned around, her hand sliding down her taut stomach, round hips, and, finally, beneath her loincloth. The guard raised an eyebrow when she pulled her hand back out to reveal two glistening fingers. She reached over and wiped her essence on the guard’s top lip and then laughed again. “I told you.”

  There was a pounding on the glass and the other guard yelled, “Stop messing around and get on with it.”

  “Turn around and face the wall,” the guard in the cell with her barked, waving his stun-baton at her to compel her to knock off the games and get back to being an obedient prisoner.

  “Fine,” Ishtar grumbled. “Your loss.”

  She did as asked and faced the wall and put both hands up, palms flat, forehead pressed to the wall, and spread her legs. This was the posture all maximum-security prisoners were required to take whenever a visitor entered or exited the cell. Ishtar glanced over her shoulder when the guard didn’t leave only to see the glowing blue arc of his stun-rod kiss the back of her neck with a menacing crackle.

  T
here was a loud zap and a painful surge of electricity that froze every sinew in her body. The invisible tendrils wound their way into her like crabgrass and seized her tight and, Ishtar, stiff as a board, dropped to the ground. Landing awkwardly across her right arm, she moaned with half-pleasure, half-pain. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. The moment the guard let off the trigger, she gasped out in near ecstasy.

  The guard kicked Ishtar in her side and rolled her over onto her back. Still unable to regain motor control, her yellow eyes flitted toward the guard’s sneering grin as he stepped over her and looked down at her with a twisted yearning.

  Ishtar strained with all her strength and lifted her head off the cold metal floor, but the guard merely growled, “Stay down,” and jabbed the rod into the soft part of her abdomen for good measure. She stiffened again, as more sizzling volts penetrated her. Standing over her, the guard stowed his stun-baton and began unfastening his belt. “Now be a good girl and smile for me, because I’m about to give you a nice treat.”

  With haste, he dropped his pants to his ankles and then got down on all fours, roughly spreading Ishtar’s legs apart and sliding off her black panties. His carnal excitement growing in anticipation, he licked his lips lecherously, and reached down and took his erect blue penis in his hand. Slowly, he guided its purple tip toward the lips of Ishtar’s vagina–the very same one she offered him moments earlier.

  Granted, what she had in mind went beyond merely treading the line between rape and sex. It was no secret that she liked the illicit and debauched forms of sex, so this kind of violation was right up her alley. Usually, however, she was on the giving end, not on the receiving end of the assault, but, for whatever reason, this time she felt herself getting excited by the mere thought of being forced. The loss of power. The fact that the guard knew exactly what he wanted.

  Of course, she went along with it and pretended that she couldn’t stop it. That way the vileness of it would titillate her. Dwelling on the fact she could trigger her internal biochem-regulators at any moment, flood her system with adrenaline at a mere thought, then, rise up and snap this fool’s neck, would make it less satisfying somehow, so she allowed him to continue to think he was the one in power.

  The guard groaned as he entered her with surprising ease and after a few slow pumps to test the waters, so to speak, he began pounding furiously.

  Ishtar felt as though she was being humped by a horny teenager who hadn’t the skill or control to make it worth her while, but, then again, very few men could meet her particular sort of depraved needs.

  The guard finished with a stereotypical grunt and pulled out. Looking over his shoulder at his friend, he offered her as the spoiled prize she was. “You want a turn?”

  The guard standing outside the cell simply shook his head no. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy having a slave girl. He just wasn’t sure about defiling a red-skin. It seemed so unsavory in his mind. Interspecies relations. It grossed him out.

  “You sure, man? She wasn’t lying. She’s riper than a Targarian peach. The juices are literally flowing out of her. Come on, give it a shot. You’ll thank me later.”

  “I’m good,” the stoic guard replied, not budging on his discriminatory policy on interspecies relations.

  Ishtar rolled her eyes and then mumbled, “Damn, and I was hoping to get some satisfaction, not this two-pump chump.”

  “What did you say?” the guard asked, turning his attention back toward the woman sprawled out on the floor before him. He held her gaze, not intimidated by her in the least, and then bent down and took her by the neck in a show of dominance and squeezed.

  “Was there something you wanted to say to me?” When she didn’t offer a snide quip in response, he grinned wide and said, “That’s what I thought, bitch.”

  Ishtar’s hands moved so fast the guard didn’t even have time to react. Even with the heavy restraints binding her wrists, she managed to grab the back of his skull and his chin in either hand and twist. There was a loud, sickening crack and the guard’s face spiraled around, his head backwards on his shoulders, gazing at his friend on the other side of the glass.

  The other guard watched in horror as Ishtar snapped his friend’s neck with such speed that he had to blink a couple of times as it took a moment for him to register what had happened.

  Ishtar started laughing and she pushed the guard off of her. He slid away and fell to the side, his body landing with a thump, his backward head still staring across the room at his partner. Sitting up, she locked eyes with the outside guard and shot him a morbid grin. She chewed on her lip seductively, licked her teeth and smiled up at him.

  “Care to come inside and play?” she asked, her grin growing even wider. She kept her eyes fixed on him the entire time, licking her lips with a passionate display of her unadulterated lust. “I’m so ripe. Riper than a Targarian peach,” she taunted, using his partner’s exact same words to try and goad him into coming into the room.

  The guard slammed his hand down on the door panel and secured the door. It slammed shut with a sturdy thud and the locking mechanism clanked into place. Ishtar glanced at the door and then back at the guard. “You’re no fun,” she huffed disappointedly.

  Ishtar rose to her feet, pulled up her panties, and readjusted her loincloth. Once everything was back in its proper place, she walked up to the glass and stared into the guard’s eyes. “I promise I’ll play nice,” she said, her crooked grin spreading into a full smile as she couldn’t even take her own lie seriously.

  “Step away from the glass,” the guard said, not wanting to take any more chances with this psychopath.

  Ishtar held his nervous gaze with her composed one, and then blew him a kiss. She could tell it bothered him, which is exactly why she had done it.

  Just then, the room filled with the sound of the ship’s engines humming to life and, then with the sudden momentum of the ship taking off. It felt exactly like riding in a high-speed elevator up to the top of a skyscraper as the ship ascended into space. Once the momentum had stopped, the grav-paneling came online to counteract the zero-gravity environment.

  Ishtar slapped her palms on the glass, startling the guard. Then, she licked the glass, making it seem as though she were licking his face.

  “I warned you,” the guard growled, and then he slammed his hand down on the blue lightning bolt symbol on the control pad next to the door.

  The metal floor beneath Ishtar’s feet surged with five thousand volts and dropped Ishtar on her back like a lead weight. Once the guard stopped the electricity, Ishtar coughed as she took in air and rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her cough quickly turned into a bout of laughter and, gradually, her laughter grew until the guard pounded on the glass and yelled at her to: “Shut up!”

  For her, this was all rather quite fun. She thrived on the pain and anguish of others. Fear excited her, sexually. Pain aroused her most libidinous desires. Together, pain and fear got her so worked up the only way she could deal with it was to unleash her dark nature on others. And there was a reason she was the galaxy’s deadliest assassin. Killing, for her, was pure unadulterated joy. If she could kill someone during sex, well, that was just the cherry on top.

  Ishtar let out a long, heavy sigh, chortled quietly to herself as she replayed the day’s carnage in her mind. Feeling good, she closed her eyes and relaxed the rest of the way to Thessalonica and Arena City.

  Back at the Imperial Palace, Dakroth pushed open the ceiling-high doors and strode into the main throne room where a pale skinned woman in an exotic black dress that seemed to be made of strange rubber-like micro-fiber mesh, stood waiting for him.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Administratrix,” he said, taking an apologetic bow.

  Anaïs Nin slowly turned around and gazed upon the Lord Emperor with a less than amused sort of look. Her large dark eyes peered at him with a reserved kind of revulsion. It was clear she disliked him greatly, but what wasn’t clear was why. Ful
l well knowing the feeling was mutual, he had invited her all the way to Dagon Prime.

  “What’s so important that you had to use a royal pardon to get me here, Lord Emperor Dakroth?”

  “It’s true, I called in every remaining favor I had with the council to get you that pardon. But I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been absolutely vital.”

  Anaïs Nin raised a hairless eyebrow. The wrinkle in her brow, however, gave away the surprise on her face. “Well, I’m here now. So, if you don’t mind dispensing with the formalities and getting down to it, I have other engagements I need to keep.”

  “Just hear me out,” Dakroth said, raising his hands in a gesture of polite surrender. “It’s about the prophesy.”

  This seemed to catch her attention; her head perked up and her posture straightened. Dakroth grinned. The Nyctans were so easy to manipulate. Bring up religion and you had their undivided attention.

  “I’m listening,” she said, clasping her fingers together as she waited to hear what Dakroth had to say.

  29

  Jegra’s fingers curled tightly around the pillow, squeezing it with all her strength. The tendons in her neck drew taut and she groaned out in pleasure, “Don’t ever stop fucking me!”

  Kregor arched his back and, wrapping his green, talon-like fingers around Jegra’s meaty thighs, he drew her hips into himself and began tapping her even faster. Double-timing it, he sped up and forced another moan from Jegra’s lips.

  “Eventually,” he huffed, “I’m going to…have to…”

  “Don’t you dare!” Jegra shouted. The pillow tore in half and feathers exploded across the bed. One landed on Jegra’s mouth and she spat it aside. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

  Kregor was so close, but he held back for as long as he possibly could. He didn’t want to disappoint the empress, but she had a warrior’s stamina and was pushing him to his limits.

  “As empress, I command you not to come yet,”