by Tristan Vick
“I’m afraid so. I should have been up front with you, but I had no idea he was going to betray you. When the Nyctans showed up and that Knight chased you into the desert, my heart broke for you.”
“So, why do you still serve that ass-wipe?” Jegra gave Cassera a long hard look. Cassera looked down at her feet.
“I have devoted my entire life to serving the emperor. But now … now all I want is to remain by your side. If you’ll have me.”
Cassera didn’t know whether these feelings came from the human side of her–the part of her which had gradually been transformed by Jegra’s DNA–or if these were her own genuine feelings. But she shrugged it off as unimportant. Jegra was right. It was time to make a choice and take sides. And the emperor’s side was a losing one.
Jegra reached over and raised Cassera’s chin and grinned at her for a long time. So long that it became a little awkward.
“Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Because,” Jegra said with a laugh, “I think I love you.”
“You do realize we’re all totally fucked though, right?”
The door chimed and Jegra looked at Cassera with wide eyes. “Shit. It’s time. Get dressed.”
Jegra had her servants, Estan and Laquiea, create a special suit of armor for Cassera. It only took about thirty minutes for them to gather all their provisions and meet Sanakar on the hangar deck.
“The armor suits you,” Sanakar said to Cassera.
“Jegra informs me that your regulations state a high priority prisoner must be protected at all times.”
“This is true,” Sanakar replied, blinking her black eyes at them as her lips formed a sly grin.
“Except when she’s being tortured,” Cassera added.
The two women glared at each other for a couple of seconds and then Sanakar gave a remorseful nod. “A regrettable tactic. But one which the administratrix believed necessary.”
“And nobody ever questions your supreme leader?” Cassera’s voice was filled with anger which she wore on top of the pain like a suit of armor.
“Does anyone ever question your beloved emperor?”
“I did,” Cassera informed Sanakar.
“As did I,” Jegra added, bolstering her claim.
Sanakar answered in a calm voice. “Like your emperor, she considered her council’s advice. In the end, Anaïs Nin chose what she felt was best for the Nyctan Empire. Are you telling me your people wouldn’t have done the same?”
“We don’t torture prisoners,” Cassera said.
“No, you don’t,” Sanakar agreed. “You merely execute them.”
Both women stared at each other with faux smiles, each trying to act more civilized than the other. Jegra knew, however, that the reality of it all was much more complicated.
Both races had been at war for at least three hundred years, by what Jegra could gather. And there was no quick, easy fix for two neighboring cultures that couldn’t seem to even agree to disagree.
When power and domination is all one cares about, then bloodshed is bound to follow. People, as it turned out, don’t like being subjugated.
And, as a wise man once said, ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’. Which is why the only way to achieve lasting peace, Jegra thought, was to forego the desire for power and instead take up the desire to spread love and compassion. But even that was difficult to achieve in the cold, dark recesses of intergalactic space.
According to the computer data banks aboard the Omikran, the feud between the Nyctans and Dagons had begun when a Dagon and rogue prophet of Hastur, named Thygron Addorix, left Dagon to preach his people’s sacred gospels to outer rim settlers. Five decades soon passed by and a new cult had formed around the itinerant holy man’s teachings.
The original colony, of course, consisted of mostly Nyctans, who then took this new religion, along with Thygron’s sacred holy book, the Enchiridion of Hastur, back to their world as missionaries. The religion spread from there.
Regardless of how it all started, the beliefs were quite similar in ways but, at the same time, quite distinct. From what Jegra could gather from her reading, the Nyctan have a robust faith in the illusive yet always aware Gilded Master. A being of pure radiance that would return and balance the darkness with his golden light.
The Dagons, believe the same, more or less. A Golden being of pure radiance, they call Hastur, shall return to them and like Shiva, will destroy and rebuild the universe, keeping only his chosen people.
The question then became, which of the alien races were the true chosen people? Nyctans or Dagons? A theological dispute arose over Thygron’s teachings and whether he was a theologaster and a false prophet or the real deal. It was obvious which side believed which claim.
Accusations arose that the Nyctans had culturally appropriated the Dagon god to gain favor with the interplanetary trade federation, thereby managing to secure the key galactic trade routes which the Dagons had traditionally benefited from.
Now, what had begun as a theological dispute also became embroiled in a land dispute regarding which race had the right to trade along the Golden Vail, a region of space both groups believe to be sacred ground—as it was the prophesied location where Hastur would one day return.
But, as always seems to be the case, the tensions between the races grew to a boiling point and, soon enough, there were civil disputes all across the galaxy.
Zealous and quasi-religious protest groups formed. Rival factions clashed at every interplanetary hub in the galaxy and the opposing factions grew more and more violent.
Eventually, it all came to a head at the intergalactic peace talks where a suicide bomber killed half the delegation. Both sides blamed the other with no faction claiming responsibility and the Nyctans and Dagons went to war to settle their grievances.
Fast forward three hundred years later, and here they were. Still at it. Fighting over the same god and the same plot of interstellar land.
It was a never-ending song and dance, Jegra thought. War, after all, was easier than peace. And cruelty was easier to come by than compassion. This was the way it had always been, and Jegra didn’t see it changing anytime soon.
The handsome bridge ensign Jegra had made note of earlier emerged from the shuttlecraft and addressed her. “The shuttle is prepped and ready for departure, Sub Commander.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Will you be joining us?”
Cassera raised an eyebrow, noticing Jegra’s attraction to the young man.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. Then, turning to the oracle, he bowed reverently. Sanakar bowed in return and then placed her hand on his head and gave him a blessing. He quickly helped her with her things and promptly loaded them onto the ship.
“Estriel is one of my most faithful followers,” informed Sanakar.
“Estriel?” Jegra repeated.
Cassera leaned in and whispered into Jegra’s ear. “You so have the hots for him.”
“Hush, you,” Jegra said out of the corner of her mouth. And elbowed Cassera lightly in her ribs. “The oracle will hear you.”
“Oh, I’m sure she is well aware,” Cassera said, jabbing Jegra’s ribs to get her back. “The amount of drool coming down your chin is a dead giveaway.”
“Shhh,” Jegra shushed, holding a finger up to her lips.
“Ladies, if you’ll kindly step aboard the shuttle,” Estriel said from the arch of the shuttle’s back entrance, gesturing for them to board.
“Why aren’t we using the quantum transportation device?” Sanakar asked, as she headed up the ramp and into the shuttle.
“Ever since the presence of the creature, it was deemed all energy transference devices were unsafe. Therefore, we have to travel the old-fashioned way,” Estriel replied.
Jegra motioned for Cassera to go on ahead. She smiled and stepped up into the shuttle. As she did, Jegra gave her a welt inducing slap to her ass. She stopped in her tracks, let out a sigh, and kicked herself for not having seen what wa
s coming sooner.
Jegra turned to her servants, who waited on standby, should she need them. She nodded at them, and they responded in kind. With that, Jegra marched onto the shuttle and closed the ramp-door behind her.
Jegra took the co-pilot’s seat next to Estriel. He turned and smiled at her. “I didn’t realize that you knew how to fly one of these things.”
“It was part of my three-month long crash course with Galahad. I guess he figured a dumb ole Terran like me could benefit from gaining a pair of space-wings.”
“You’re not dumb,” Estriel said. He shot her a warm smile and a look of confidence that made her heart flutter. Damn. Cassera was right. She had the hots for him.
Estriel turned back to the controls and began flipping switches and hitting buttons as he prepared to take off. Jegra gazed upon him with a pleased look. He glimpsed her gazing at him and smiled. She looked away, so as not to offend his Nyctan puritan sensitivities.
This was the closest to flirting she’d ever gotten with a Nyctan. They were always so prudent and taciturn. Flirting was as alien a concept to them as was the notion of bisexuality or polyamorous love. Their relationships were very rigid and business like, and it didn’t really seem as though love, or rather mutual happiness amongst marriage partners, was a concern.
Early on, aboard the Omikran and later the Light Bringer, Jegra learned to keep her amorphous pansexuality to herself. Although they technically did have sex, it was reserved to mates only. And even though she found the Nyctan people’s level of self-discipline admirable, she had been horny for almost three months now and needed a release. Hopefully sooner, rather than later.
She replied to Estriel’s compliment of her, in the hopes to get him to speak a little bit more. “Most people only see the warrior ape slave that conquered the arena. And when they’re not watching me for the sheer bloodlust of the sport, they’re watching my body and lusting after me as an object.” She nodded down at her ridiculously oversized chest.
Estriel glanced down and smiled, then, looked back out the forward view port yet said nothing. She knew he held her in high esteem and did not want to offend his ranking officer by being too bold with his opinions of her.
“Out of curiosity,” Jegra said, running a clearance check. “Do you have a girlfriend, Estriel?”
“We don’t date casually in my culture,” he informed her. “We meet with our future spouses whom our parents have arranged for us a few times during our childhoods, then, upon entering adulthood, a wedding date is set. Once the date is agreed upon by both families, we marry the person and begin our lives together.”
“Many ancient cultures on my planet practice arranged marriages too,” Jegra informed him. “But nowadays we marry those who we are fondest of out of a sense of mutual respect and love.”
Estriel smiled at her, yet again refrained from offering his opinion. He then hit the button which turned on the magnetic coils. The shuttle slowly rose up off the deck and, looking over his shoulder he addressed the rest of their passengers. All two of them. “Hang on tight.”
Sanakar and Cassera looked at each other and raced one another to see who could strap in the fastest. Although the Light Bringer was positioning itself aft of the Omikran, away from the firefight, it was still an active war zone and things could get bumpy. Finishing first, Cassera gave Sanakar a victorious grin. Sanakar smiled with her eyes and looked away.
“Those two don’t seem to get along,” Estriel whispered, turning to see what had caught Jegra’s attention.
“You’re telling me?” Jegra snickered.
The shuttle rose up and quickly positioned itself before the open shuttle bay doors. Estriel turned his head toward Jegra and pointed his chin at the controls. “Sub Commander, I insist you do the honors of taking us out.”
Jegra nodded and took ahold of the joystick in her left hand and the throttle in her right. Slowly throttling up, the ship began gliding forward, magnetic coils whining as the rear thruster pushed them out of the hangar.
Once clear of the hangar bay, Jegra brought the shuttle about and aimed it toward the stern of the Omikran. A little farther off, hanging in the shadow of the gigantic ship, was the Light Bringer, the medium sized battle cruiser of the Knights.
When Cassera saw which ship they were headed for, she gasped. “That’s the ship everyone in the system fears.”
“That’s because everyone fears the Knights. And for good reason. They’re merciless in their missions. You’ll never meet a more dedicated group of soldiers. Believe me, I know.”
“I believe you,” she said, not questioning Jegra’s sincerity. Under other circumstances, Cassera would be downright terrified. But, as it turned out, Jegra was now a Knight herself. Not only that, she was appointed their fearless leader. Strange, she thought, how in a matter of months the thing they had been running from had now become their greatest ally.
The shuttle sped toward the Light Bringer at a brisk pace, when all of a sudden, there was a flash of light and the space-squid appeared out of nowhere and placed itself between the Omikran and Light Bringer and, subsequently, directly in their path.
“Did you know it could jump like that?”
“No, ma’am,” Estriel said, taking evasive action.
Right on schedule, the Omikran and the Light Bringer opened fire on the creature. Disruptor blasts shot out of their phaser cannons and lit up the giant space-squid with a volley of high charged laser blasts.
But, as predicted, the creature merely absorbed the energy, its body remained undamaged by the attack.
Estriel turned the shuttle around and headed away from the barrage of disruptor fire at full speed.
Jegra looked back in time to see one of the tentacles of the space-squid latch onto the Light Bringer. “No!” she shouted, slamming her fist down on the comm. Opening a channel, she hailed Galahad aboard her ship.
Galahad’s stressed voice came onto the comm. “My deepest apologies. It seems we won’t be able to make the rendezvous, after all, Sub Commander.”
“Next time,” Jegra said.
“Final orders, ma’am?”
“Get yourselves free of that thing. If you can’t, your orders are to get to the escape pods and abandon ship.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Galahad replied. With that, the comm went silent and everyone scooted to the edge of their seats as they watched the intense exchange play out.
The Omikran positioned itself in front of the space-squid. The mega-thrusters ignited and the ship prepared for ramming speed.
As the Omikran approached the entity, escape pods jettisoned from the endangered cruiser. It reminded Jegra of a white dandelion losing all of its parachute seeds, as a flurry of escape pods filled the space behind them.
“Bring the shuttle around over there,” Jegra said, pointing at a distant black patch. Turning the ship about, Estriel did as requested and brought the ship full about and positioned themselves so that their starboard bow was facing the two ongoing battles.
Off the lower right of starboard, the Omikran and Light Bringer were tangled up with the squid entity. Off the upper port bow was Dakroth’s monster battle cruiser, the Subjugator, pounding the remaining Nyctan fleet with a ridiculous amount of disruptor fire. Even the Nyctan’s superior shield technology wouldn’t be able to withstand such a volley for long.
Helpless to do anything about either battle except watch the horror of it all play out in real time, Jegra was beginning to feel that they really were trapped in a no-win situation.
“What are your orders, ma’am?” Estriel asked.
“Are you a praying man, Estriel?” asked Jegra.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his face looking amused by the randomness of such a question.
“Then, by all means, Estriel. Pray.”
28
Radiant golden tentacles coiled around the Omikran. First just a couple, then three more. The vessel was completely tangled up in squid.
A sudden flash of light blinded ever
yone as the Omikran’s mega-thrusters discharged and the ship began its collision course. It would carry out Jegra’s plan and carry the squid to the looming black hole that hung approximately 200 million keks away. About the same distance as from the Earth as to the sun, Jegra surmised.
A chime rang as a call came in from the Omikran and Jegra hit the receive button. The HUD on the dash lit up, showing a hologram of Azra’il Nun. She was still aboard the Omikran, wearing her finest battle armor.
“High Commander, you haven’t evacuated the ship?” Estriel asked, confused as to why Azra’il would still be aboard.
“The creature’s intense radiation output has scrambled the navigation systems. I’m going to have to fly this one in manually, I’m afraid.”
“But you’ll be killed!” he gasped.
“I’m beginning to think you were right, Jegra,” Azra’il Nun said, turning her attention to Jegra. “This creature poses a much bigger threat than I initially realized. It could disrupt intergalactic trade throughout the entire quadrant. And, if it becomes powerful enough, it may stop suckling on starships and begin eating entire stars. I should have never doubted your warrior’s instinct.”
“It’s all right,” Jegra said.
“I’m sending you all the scans we’ve taken of the creature so far along with a copy of my final ship log. Jegra, one more thing. Once I ignite the afterburners, it will take only thirty-eight minutes for us to collide with the black hole. I’m not entirely sure what will happen so keep your distance. Wish me luck, and may Hastur watch over you all.”
“May Hastur be with you, always,” Estriel and Sanakar said in unison, bowing their heads and crossing their right fists over their left breast.
Jegra smiled at the High Commander. She was, in the end, an honorable person. “May Hastur be with you, now and forever,” Jegra said, crossing her breast in the same customary manner.
Azra’il smiled at her and then the feed abruptly cut out.
Jegra looked down at the data stream coming in. “Good,” she said. “The administratrix has taken her private shuttle and jumped out of the system.”