Starblade

by Rodney C. Johnson

  One went while the other came, briefly Frederika and Sitara passed one another. Two scions of genetic manipulation crossed each others path. The girls exchanged a pleasant glance as they walked by. Sitara looked the tall emerald-eyed blonde up and down and Frederika did the same with the Princess. They both concluded that they approved of one another.

  Sharr focused on the blonde – But for a minute he felt a ripple in the cybernetic network of Char. His blue-gray eyes glanced around the hall to find the source. He noticed Kulcarin with his crew at a table just back from their mission… The sound of Urksa Vorskrai as he worked the gathered dignitaries brought the Shotar's attention onto the young Guilthari Lord.

  “What?” Nadia asked. It had been hard not to notice the concerned look on her mate's face.

  “I felt a surge in the cybernetic network,” Sharr said quietly, still looking at Urksa surrounded by his wives as he talked with a Drakorian. It didn't take long for the Guilthari to notice Sitara going over toward Kulcarin.

  “Kaurin Sitara!” Urksa boomed and made sure everyone had heard him. “You look most splendid this evening.” He smiled, not unpleasantly. “You are truly a Radiant Falcon!”

  Sitara flushed, reminded herself who she was, and that this was a state occasion. She dare not offend a member of the Dreikatha on her father's birthday. There were too many members of prominent tharrin here this night. The Princess forced the words from her mouth. “Thank you, Lord Vorskrai.”

  Even as she responded Sitara never deigned to look upon Urksa as she went to join Kulcarin Aranskrai. When she had been younger Sitara and Urksa once had a disagreeable encounter. The young man had made a very awkward, very lewd pass at the budding Princess. Sitara's response had been to push him into a fountain in one of the Imperial gardens. Her father being a laid back person thought the incident all very amusing, but her mother not so much. Nadia had insisted that Sharr discipline his daughter for such rudeness, never mind that she nearly caused a political mishap. After the thrashing her mother demanded that she be given, Sitara hadn't been able to sit for a week. The whole mess had set the tone for her and Urksa's later contentious encounters. He loved to push her to retaliate at his advances.

  Frederika reached out, touched his cheek. “My Lord.”

  The Shotar gazed at the honey-blonde. He put aside his concerns to take in the beauty before him. Right off, he noticed the Thor's Hammer the girl wore. That he found of great interest, great interest indeed. The Falcanian ruler bid the blonde to sit on his lap.

  As if to give a lap dance, Frederika settled herself onto the Shotar. To Frederika, this was an easy persona to adopt. So much of herself could be put into it. He began to wrap his armored tail around her bare midriff. This is too perfect, she thought.

  “What is your name?” Sharr asked and placed a gauntleted hand on the small of her back, and dropped it down to her butt while she made herself comfortable on him.

  “Frederika,” she said.

  She leaned her head over him and alluringly gazed into his eyes. Coiled around her midsection Frederika felt a thrum from his tail, as if electricity ran down the Shotar's armored appendage. There could be warmth felt in the extension. The tail coiled possessively around her, reminded Frederika of HR Geiger's techno-organic style of artwork. She discovered that the black plated tail must have been a biomechanical creation. Flat, streamlined, three inches wide it tapered down to two inches which were covered with plates that overlapped and felt like some kind of flexible metal, ending in a polished, golden pincer blade. The underside of the tail though did feel leathery. Overall the plated appendage appeared very durable.

  Frederika threw her arms over Sharr Khan's fur collar and grinned widely at him, watched his eyes take in every detail of her body. Her fingers explored his back, and she sought out the roots of his wings. She caressed feathers and quickly her fingers came to the powerful artificial muscles that anchored the airfoils to his body. The muscles did not feel like flesh, more like some kind of polymer. The membrane stretched over the folded out-of-the-way wings turned out not to be leathery, as she had expected. Instead it had the texture of fine silk, smooth and cool between her fingers.

  Sharr handled the Thor's Hammer with deep interest. “Are you a Heathen?”

  “No, my Lord…” His hand moved from the hammer and came to rest atop her cleavage that busted invitingly out of her top.

  “It was… a gift.” she breathlessly told him. His touch thrilled her. Frederika arched her back to make her breasts fuller.

  “A long time ago, I once also wore the sign of Thor,” Sharr told her. “Sworn to the old gods.”

  Unexpected information to be sure. The Falcanian ruler had been a Heathen, a Neopagan. Frederika wondered about it for a moment. Oberon would find that of interest.

  Go on, child. Pleasure my mate! This is his birthday. Give him a lap dance.

  Jolted, Frederika turned toward the Queen. The voice in her head had come from the woman. Of that she had no doubt.

  Caught off guard, the words echoed in her brain. The intrusion into her psyche had been unforeseen. Immediately she filled her thoughts with erotic images, her last tryst out as “Ciji” in the village, and repressed even the faintest hint of her true mission here on Vanguard Island. An on-board response cautioned her to fear telepathic links, she never understood why this was so. She kept the expression on her face at ease, emerald eyes became flirtatious as if to invite a man to her bed. Should she be touched by the woman's mind again, all that would be found would be images of sex, there would be her refuge.

  Nadia was a telepath!

  A powerful one concluded Frederika, she still felt the impression of the Falcanian woman on her mind. She kept the image from the point of view of a stripper, as she might dance on a pole in her mind, and hoped that Nadia did not detect anything amiss with her. Luckily it did not appear to have been a deep scan. Frederika made herself smile at the dark haired woman who continued to look at her with an intent curiosity. “I shall do exactly that, my lady,” she answered out loud.

  The dancer returned her attention to the Shotar. “So darling, you like my tits?” she teased, moving to the buttons of her halter-top. “Have a proper look then.” Frederika flashed him her firm perky breasts, and pressed her erect nipples close to his face. Back and forth she rocked, on his lap in her seductive dance. Her thighs gyrating, she thrust her body against the Shotar’s own, pulled his arms around her waist to make him support her weight as she writhed on his lap. Right away she could feel her movements and their effect on him. Underneath his pants, his erection bulged in desire for her.

  Unbuttoning the triangle clasps of the ruler's jodtok; Frederika let her fingers teasingly dance on his chest. Where there should have been hair, instead she found a triangular patch of black and gold feathers. She leaned close, her golden hair fell over him, and she gave him a seductive smile. Frederika grazed his mouth with her lush pink lips to kiss him, and to release a burst of pheromones which would make the Shotar lust for her. A taste of honey and ginseng filled Frederika's own mouth. Whatever the Shotar had consumed caused a brief electric response on Frederika's own senses.

  Once done, Sharr did not dismiss her. Instead he told Frederika to close her top and remain with him for a little while. The whole time that she stayed on his lap, he greedily kept his tail around her waist like she had become a favorite new toy.

  The Shotar plucked a small fried ring of dough from his plate, fed it to Frederika, who made a delighted sound after she tasted the confection. Sharr lifted his goblet, drunk deeply of the milky yellow liquor. Frederika glanced at the claw-goblet and could smell the honey-ginseng which she had tasted moments ago upon the Shotar's lips.

  Nadia watched her mate interact with the blonde, curious as to what his whims would cause him to do. Her bright blue almond eyes widened, she watched him offer the girl a sip from his goblet. Only he could get away with giving the Rishaak liquor to an outsider. Its effect took awhile to come to fruition, but ev
en a little of the nectar would have some consequence on one who tasted it for the first time.

  A flash hit her and Frederika felt her body tingle. That’s some alcohol, she thought. The whole of her body had become enlivened by the drink. It made her feel giddy and sexy. The dancer was glad when the Shotar allowed her another sip.

  “Have you eaten?” Sharr Khan at last asked.

  “No, my Lord.”

  “You may call me Sharr Khan, or Hawk even if you wish.”

  Clearly the pheromones had started to have a result on him. A love struck expression crossed Sharr’s face as he held Frederika on his lap. “Go then.” He uncoiled his tail from around the dancer. “Enjoy some food and drink. We shall see each other later.”

  Flushed, she bowed. Frederika stepped down the dais to go join the other dancers at a secluded table intended to keep them out-of-the-way of groping hands.

  “That one has caught his interest,” Sitara remarked.

  She watched the blonde leave her father's embrace and turned toward Kulcarin. The Drakorian, and placed his arms around her. She frowned at his expression. He had not stopped giving Urksa a disapproving glare. “Is there a problem, Kul? You've been very quiet.”

  Kulcarin kissed the edge of Sitara's ear. “None, my love.”

  Other than, Kulcarin's silence the princess noticed another difference. “You seem…” She leaned back, looked upward into his eyes as she sat in his arms on the cushion. “Broader. Wider, almost as if you gained more mass.” It had been the strangest thing when he took her into his arms Kulcarin felt as if he had grown larger. She couldn't explain why.

  “You know how it is, Sitara. A space man's high protein diet,” he said. “Eating nothing but mukbosch and aag milk.”

  Indeed he had consumed a lot of curried mukbosch while waiting for the DSV Excalibur. His food consumption however was not responsible for his gaining of height and mass, rather a side effect of Kranix's bonding with him. Kulcarin had to have his uniform altered before his arrival back on Earth to accommodate his new proportions.

  Falcanian cooking combined spiciness and sweetness with cilantro and cumin prominently featured in the flavors. The table was set with a Japanese style spoon, though cast from metal, a sharp serrated knife which had a glass purple handle and an irajik, a steel Falcanian style chopstick that also could be used in the manner of a two pronged fork.

  Frederika slipped the knife into her jeans. It might be useful later.

  Glad to eat, hungry after her performance for the Shotar, Frederika enjoyed her first bite from her stainless steel plate. A flaky pastry filled with shredded pork. Broth steamed, made from whey and garnished with scallions and cilantro with bits of carrots in it had been served in small black bowls. The soup flavored with cumin, slightly thick, had a bite all its own, a cheddar-sharpness. She wasn’t surprised to find hare on the menu. Game meat fit rightly with this culture. She had expected a rather Mongolian-style diet consisting mostly of meat and dairy based products from suppositions made in the report Oberon had provided for her. To be sure it was high in raw protein. There must have been a physiological reason for it she guessed. Chunks of chicken glistened in a yellow curry, ghee and cream melded together the flavor of chickpea flour, onion, and turmeric. Some kind of shredded roast bird was also arranged in a bowl. Its crispy skin and dark flesh perfumed with mango and a caramelized onion sauce. Also a tartar had been served, but it wasn't beef. When Frederika asked about it the response had been simply mukbosch, whatever that meant.

  Many varieties of bread also filled baskets. Flat potato bread flavored with mint and scallions, puffy poori breads that were like balloons of wheat, and crispy chickpea rounds served with a sweet mango sauce. The scrumptious meal had with it tea and mugs of honey-laced kefir to wash it all down.

  “That must’ve been the best lap dance I've ever seen!” Mia giggled. “You shoved your tits in the Shotar's face with a whole room of Falcanian officials watching.”

  Frederika grinned at her friend as she sipped from a cup of Imperial blend tea. “I did, huh?”

  Sabina glared at Frederika from over her own mug.

  “Frederika, is it not?” a voice asked.

  The Morningstar girl looked up. Princess Sitara stepped into the dancer's secluded area with Kulcarin just behind her. The women began to stand to greet her but the Princess bade them return to their meal.

  “Ja.” The blonde responded and faced the Falcanian princess. “I’m Frederika Gotha.”

  Once again, Sitara examined the beauty that was Frederika. She nodded to herself. “I can see why you’ve captivated my father. You are very lovely.”

  Frederika, not sure how to respond, simply nodded.

  “You have taken my father's fancy Frederika. And mine.” Sitara did not make it a habit to befriend her father's dancers, and yet this blonde intrigued her. “Tomorrow I am going to the market. I wish for you to join me.”

  Frederika felt many eyes on her, notably Sabina's. “I would be honored, princess.”

  “Very well. Meet me in the morning at the palace gates.” Sitara told her and then motioned for Kulcarin to follow as she took her leave.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of tents radiated outward, and formed a ring on the green fertile plain of Chithra, beneath the digital-blue, artificial sky. They bordered a great spark set into a black metalliferous foundation fed by neon-orange conduits of power which were embedded within the technological synthetic Art Deco landscape of Char. The hub, and the essence of the Falcanian people churned in a contained whirlwind of recombined DataStreams, which were destined to become brand-new Falcanian souls.

  This was Zoris, a city of many roomed yurts.

  Banners of each Falcanian aerie waved in the breeze brought up by the Mountain Of Flame that lay far off in the Far East of Char, well away from the tent homes of the departed. Here in Zoris the dead waited, here the living made pilgrimages to meet their ancestors, and here every Falcanian eventually took up residence.

  Sharr Khan watched tharrins gather, looked on while families, as programs feasted upon electronic equivalents of food. Here all his people were reunited with those that had gone beyond, but only those alive could cross back over from this cybernetic place. Always a piece of a Falcanian, a flashcopy existed in here, where they partook of Char’s collective stored knowledge.

  A portal on the outskirts of Zoris, not far from the Blue Guardian’s tower allowed those from the physical realm to come into Char. Those few who were chosen could be brought by other means, but the average Falcanian needed to cross the portal and pass by the Eye Of Ishbol before they entered or left this place inside the machine.

  The over-soul flamed, churned out new DataStreams, recycled bits and bites, the essence of those who had departed a flesh life, in this manner nothing would be lost. Falcanians were rebooted into each successive generation. The Shotar could feel the throb of life so close to the core and rejoiced in the living spark. Only the Shotar could walk this place unnoticed, though at the moment all Sharr Khan needed to disguise himself from those who strolled or flew on the wing, or airship above this world was a mere hood, for those here were interested in communion with fallen friends and family rather than their ruler. This place served to be the beginning, and end of line for these digital souls.

  On the verdant Chithra plain rested a fountainhead, a pool of inner reflection. Sharr Khan stopped at the fount and glanced down, an aged white-beard and drooped mustache peered back at him, a thing that he would never become. The reflection morphed into the youthful face he truly wore in the material world.

  The water rippled, and became a recollection. “I must go!” exclaimed the busty Bengali girl, tears dropped from her pretty black almond eyes. In the reflection Sharr stood with his arms crossed, while he frowned at the woman.

  “You’re not even going to stop me?” cried the girl.

  “Perhaps we need to be apart?”

  She began to weep. “You are so cold! He was our son...”


  Once more the water rippled to become the dusky, happy face of his Kajra Re Shalimar. Impulse caused the Shotar to touch the image which made the surface oscillate in a silver ripple.

  Nadia’s presence in the over-soul remained ever close to him. Sharr turned and saw she peered with him into the memory fount.

  “What happened to Krada, you couldn’t prevent.”

  “I know, my T'Kara,” he replied angrily.

  Nadia leaned against her mate. “Give her time. Shalimar will come home to us.”

  He glanced over at Char'Kal which burned off in the distance. There in Sharilhar fortress, the Telchar resided, not in judgment but in challenge. It served as a beacon for his people in this virtual heaven.

  Long before it appeared, he had felt it. The Shotar could sense every life that existed in the great over-soul. He could touch them and learn about them, yet the presence he sensed at this moment was unlike any he had encountered before. It radiated a power with a tremendous vibration which echoed through all of creation. It swooped past, and sung in a voice grander than even Nadia’s own fine melodies. It contained beauty and pain all at once. Its song recalled triumph and sadness. The form of the creature crackled with golden flames. Above Zoris’s enormous encampment a Golden Falcanian circled as if on a hunt to seek out a soul.

  Nadia touched her mate and spoke softly in his pointed ear. “What is it?”

  “I have never seen it here. It's not a Telchar.” He focused his vision, attempted to make out details of the Golden being. “I must go to it.”

  Nadia nodded and kissed him.

  Into the sky the Shotar launched so he could follow after the Golden Falcanian…

  A mixture of honey, jasmine, and spicy orange scents greeted him as he slowly awoke. Sharr recalled the image of the Golden Falcanian which he had just chased above the skies of Char. He did not catch up to it, for it soared at such a tremendous speed, and had vanished from sight like a ship going into spacefold before he could even get close.