by Tristan Vick
This fabricated myth, however, would allow him to maintain their loyalty while he continued to break and subjugate them without his oppressive measures ever coming into question. As long as they believed they could one day rise to Jegra’s status, they’d blindly follow.
Cassera felt it was a genius plan, but in order for it to work, she had to sacrifice the thing she held most dear, her Dagon purity. She had to give herself over to Jegra and allow her very genetic superiority to be degraded by an oily pink-skin from a world so unimportant that it hadn’t even been a blip on the radar.
The sun was already setting by the time they reached the city limits of Mardok. The three rested under some palm trees and watched as the hot orange sunset gradually faded to pink before their very eyes. Soon, the slender band of radiant color would be snuffed out by the encroaching purple of night.
“This way,” Dakroth said, cautiously stepping over an inverse electric field consisting of an electrified net which went twenty feet down into the sand and spanned the entire circumference of the town.
The electric net prevented the sand worms from getting into the oasis at night. “Watch your step,” warned Jegra, seeing as she knew the terrain well. “There are worm traps for the next several meters.”
Once all of them had safely passed the electrified field, the emperor led them into town and took them down a series of winding alleyways where, after several sharp hooks and turns, they emerged before the dim glow of a tavern.
Although Mardok was only half the size of Arena City, it boasted a thriving night life. An entire street running through the center of town was lit up with small taverns, gambling establishments, strip clubs, and a host of slattern women soliciting anyone who had an itch for interspecies sex.
“You won’t find a more wretched den of scumbags and villains,” Cassera warned her travel companions as the three of them cut briskly across the street to the pub on the other side.
“Or loose women wanting to show you a good time,” the Emperor added as he looked an orange-skinned Salamandarian girl working the corner up and down.
Her face was pretty enough, and she had two different colored eyes–one light green and the other light blue. She had a plump tail and she batted her kohl painted eyes and flashed her fetching purple lashes at him.
“This way, lover boy,” Jegra said, clearing her throat and pointing him in the right direction.
The sign above the pub, which flickered in neon green and orange, read Scarback’s. Although the building looked rather dilapidated, the sounds of drunkards having an uproariously good time seeped out into the evening.
As they approached the entrance, Jegra reached out and grabbed the emperor’s sleeve and cautiously guided him toward the side alley. “This way,” she beckoned, dragging him along behind her. “The streets have eyes and ears. Best to keep a low profile.”
“How can you tell?” he asked, scanning their surroundings for anything out of the ordinary.
“Maybe because you’re the emperor and I’m a celebrity,” she said. “And maybe because the moment we stepped out into the street the business and chatter died down half fold.”
“She’s right,” Cassera added. “We have multiple eyes on us. It serves our interests best to be a bit more discrete.”
“I think you’re both being overly cautious,” the emperor said, tossing his hair nonchalantly over his shoulder. “Nobody would dare defy me on my own moon.”
“There are more than just smugglers and loose women in Mardok, your majesty,” Jegra informed. “There are spies and assassins. And not all of them work for you.”
“Are you saying the Nyctans have planted agents against me?!” His eyes flared bright yellow; the energy inside him surged as he became agitated.
“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” Jegra said.
“Nor I,” Cassera added. “Not with the Nyctan fleet overhead. Who knows how many assassins they could have planted across the moon in the time it took us to get here?”
“Well, as it seems you’re both in agreement, I highly doubt I’ll win this argument.” Agreeing with their plan of erring on the side of caution, the emperor followed Jegra into the alley behind Scarback’s which would take them to the back entrance.
As they cut through the narrow alley, they passed a clothesline full of freshly dried clothes. Jegra reached up and pulled down a woman’s cloak and immediately flung it over the emperor’s shoulders. “Here,” she said, pulling the hood up for him. “Use this.”
Jegra grabbed a janitor’s overalls and quickly slipped into them. Zipping up the zipper, it got stuck at her bosom. Unable to traverse the mound of her breasts, she left it wedged halfway. She supposed a stimulating service worker wasn’t the worst possible disguise and shrugged it off.
The moment Emperor Dakroth and Jegra’s eyes met, it seemed as though they had read each other’s minds. They both slowly turned toward Cassera and began staring at her intensely.
Cassera, wearing only her military issue tank top and white slacks, stuck out like a sore thumb. She looked the very image of a military officer. The exact opposite of what they needed to be to blend in.
“What to do with you?” Jegra contemplated aloud, scratching her chin as she studied Cassera’s figure. “Ah!” she exclaimed with a snap of her fingers, a salacious grin spreading across her lips. “Take off your pants.”
“I beg your pardon?” Cassera gulped in horror. Getting drunk and being with Jegra was one thing. But she wouldn’t be caught dead prancing around half naked anywhere in the entire system. She was the kind of woman who felt it perfectly natural to wear turtle necks to the beach. There was no way she was going to strip down. “I certainly will not,” she grumbled, folding her arms across her chest.
Without hesitation, Jegra bent down, grabbed Cassera’s waistband, and gave a mighty tug. In one rapid jerk, she tore Cassera’s pants right off her body.
Cassera gasped out and promptly covered her exposed bits. Cassera’s knees clamped together and she placed her hand over her black lace panties. “You’re out of your mind,” she said, giving Jegra the good ole stink-eye.
“That’s a nifty trick,” Dakroth said, impressed by Jegra’s dressing down of Cassera. “You’ll have to teach me that one sometime.”
“Naturally,” Jegra replied. Looking around she found a hot orange miniskirt on a separate clothesline and snatched it down from the hanger. It was made of a shiny pleather and probably belonged to any number of Mardok’s women of the night.
“I’m so not wearing that,” Cassera protested.
“Would you rather go inside wearing a sweat drenched tank top that shows precisely how blue your nipples are and lace panties which cover you about as well as a see-through screen door?”
Cassera looked down at herself and realized Jegra had a point. Her dark blue nipples appeared through the wet fabric of her gray tank top and the black lace panties did little to give her the bare minimum security she required to feel at ease.
Unable to come up with a better alternative, she let out a defeated sigh and took the miniskirt from Jegra. “Fine,” she said angrily. “Have it your way.”
Once she’d finished zipping up the waist, she twisted the skirt around so the zipper would be at the back and tugged down on the hemline. Even with all the fine-tuning, it was still far too short for her liking.
“Turn around,” Jegra demanded. Cassera shot her a suspicious look but did as requested. No sooner had she turned her back to Jegra when she felt a sudden jerk on her collar. Looking down in dismay, she watched as her tank top tore off her. Again, she instantly covered her breasts and turned around. “What the bloody Helios do you think you’re doing?” she raged, cupping her breasts with both hands.
Jegra thrust out her jaw toward a white tube top next to Dakroth and gestured for him to fetch it for her. He gladly did so and, accepting the garment from the emperor, Jegra handed it over to Cassera. “Here.”
Cassera quickly covered both breast
s with her right arm and reached out and took the tube top from Jegra. Turing back around, she quickly put it on. “There,” she said, spinning in place as she showed off her rather revealing outfit. “Satisfied?”
“I am,” Dakroth answered, grinning at Cassera who looked indistinguishable from an upscale call-girl.
“I’m not,” Jegra said, mulling over what could possibly be missing. “Wait a minute. I’ve got it,” she said, and reached up and ran her fingers through Cassera’s hair. Ruffling her hair up until her it was frazzled and messy, she finally stepped back to inspect her handiwork. Jegra let out a whistle. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Cassera turned toward the glass window of the pub’s back entrance and inspected her reflection. “For the love of Hastur!” she gasped. “You’ve turned me into a whore!”
“A very lovely whore,” teased Jegra. And, with that, she swatted Cassera on her ass. Cassera shot her a cold glare with narrow eyes that flickered with yellow energy, then went back to looking in the glass at her ghastly reflection.
“You’ll blend right in,” Dakroth said in a serious manner that revealed that it was time to get back to business. Then, opening the back door, he stepped inside.
Not wasting a second, Jegra shoved Cassera inside after him, as she was still preoccupied with her reflection in the glass.
With both of them safely inside, she looked back and double checked to see if anyone had followed them. After determining that the coast was clear, she quickly disappeared through the entrance and let the door shut behind her.
9
His arms draped around both women’s waists, Dakroth leaned over the counter and asked the barkeep, “Do you have any booths available for the evening?”
Without looking up from drying a beer mug, the bartender asked, “The whole evening?”
Unamused by the dodge, the emperor’s blood red eyes flashed with crimson energy from beneath his hood, signaling that he was of Dagon lineage.
The bartender, a mere Mee’lak from a dead system that had gone up with its star when it went supernova, gulped down the nervous lump in his throat and cut the chitchat. Promptly setting the glass down and coming around the bar to greet them, he personally showed them to their booth. “Right this way, if you please.”
The bartender led them across the bar to a corner booth that was secluded but still had a good view of the room. Dakroth sat on the inside next to the wall, Jegra sat next to the emperor, while Cassera sat across from them.
“What can I get for ya’ll?” the bartender asked, waiting by the table for their order.
“Six Dagoni ales, three Buldorvian vodkas, and three glasses of ice water,” Dakroth said.
“And a platter of cheese-fries,” Jegra added.
The bartender nodded and scurried off to get their orders. When Jegra turned around, she found Dakroth and Cassera starring at her with stunned expressions.
“What? I’m hungry,” she said.
“You’re lucky you are immune to the effects of cheese,” Cassera said. “It makes me ill.”
“What effects?” Jegra asked.
“Most Dagons have allergies that prevent them from eating cheese. We don’t even make it on our homeworld. You only find it among the more primitive species, those that live with domesticated animals,” Dakroth informed, a hint of disgust lingering on his voice.
“I love cheese,” Jegra chirped. “But if it bothers you both so much, I’ll try to be discrete with my consumption of it and will always be sure to brush my teeth afterward.”
After their order had arrived, Dakroth waited for the bartender to leave and then pulled back his hood. He scanned the room looking for his contact but huffed in annoyance when he couldn’t find him. “He said he would be here after sundown, but I don’t see him anywhere.”
“Are you sure you should be out in the open like this?” Jegra asked, nodding at Dakroth’s exposed face.
“We’re perfectly secluded here,” he answered. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here would even believe it was me, even if they did make me out.”
“Right,” Jegra said with a wink. “We’ll just say you’re the emperor’s lookalike.”
Jegra pulled the steaming appetizer towards her, picked up three gooey wedges of potato, ran them through the creamy yellow cheese that had pooled at the edge of the plate, and shoved them in her mouth.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Cassera said looking away.
“If so,” Jegra mumbled, jamming another helping of cheese fries into her face, “feel free to hurl on my shoes.”
“It would be fair play, wouldn’t it?” Cassera chuckled.
Dakroth raised an eyebrow and Cassera folded her arms over her chest and grew stern again. “It’s a long story.”
“Maybe you’ll share with me some time,” Dakroth said. “But right now, I think we have more urgent matters.”
“Like what?” Jegra asked.
“Like the fact that the bartender is talking to what looks like a bounty hunter.
Jegra looked over and squinted at the woman talking to the barkeep. She looked rugged, for sure, but she wasn’t sure whether or not she constituted a threat. “If you want, I’ll go over and snap her neck for you.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Dakroth said. “We’ll play it cool for now.”
“Good plan,” Jegra replied. In the middle of bringing another serving of fries to her mouth, some cheese dripped off and landed right in the middle of her cleavage. “Oh, shit,” she said, taking the fry and dipping it into the lake of cheese that had pooled in the crevice between her breasts.
A sudden wave of disgust overcame Cassera and caused her to choke down her own gag reflex. Looking rather ill, she quickly excused herself from the table. “Pardon me, but I need to go to the restroom and hurl.”
“Have fun!” Jegra said, waving to Cassera as she went. She smiled, cramming more cheese fries into her mouth.
“Here,” Dakroth said, waving a napkin in front of Jegra’s face. She took it from him and dabbed the corners of her mouth. “At least you blend in well,” he said.
“You’re too wound up. Just drink your beer and relax,” she said, chewing with her mouth open.
Downing his beer in one long guzzle, Dakroth slammed the mug down and belched. “You mean like that?”
Jegra smiled and slid another beer over to him. “That’s more like it. Try not to worry so much. You’ll get the hang of it.”
He downed the second one too, just as quickly, and Jegra slid a third over to him. This time he took a couple breaths in between swigs, but managed to finish it off in no time. Wiping some froth from his lips he let out a satisfied belch.
When Cassera returned, she quietly sat down and didn’t say a word. Taking a sip of her water, she forced herself to act cool.
“Why do I get the feeling your hiding something?” Jegra said, pointing a cheesy finger at Cassera and taking a gulp from her water.
Nervous, Cassera glanced around, scanning the faces in the room, and then leaned across the table. “A girl came on to me in the restroom. She wanted to take me back to her place.”
“You should have taken her up on the offer,” Dakroth said, releasing another belch. Jegra subtly slid a fourth beer over to him and he happily picked it up. “Why not let your hair down for once? Have a little fun!”
“Drink your beer, sweetie,” Jegra said, patting Dakroth’s forearm which rested on the table next to her. He grinned at her and then began downing his fourth Dagon ale.
“That’s not why I’m upset,” Cassera replied. “When I was exiting the washroom, I glimpsed her reflection in the mirror as she stood behind me. She scanned me with something. Some kind of device. I would have confronted her but I didn’t want to alert her to the fact that I was on to her. But odds are, we’re going to have company any minute.”
“Bring it on,” Dakroth said, finishing his fourth drink. Jegra slid the fifth over to him to keep him busy.
“Drink these,” Jegra said, passing all three Buldorvian vodkas across the table to Cassera.
“All of them?” she asked.
“You need to look a whole lot drunker than you currently are if you’re going to fool anybody this evening.” Rising to her feet, she said, “Now, you watch him while I go take care of this mysterious woman who seems to be stalking us.”
“Good luck,” Cassera said, and then she kicked back her head and downed the whole glass in one amazing, long gulp.
Jegra glanced around the room as she headed toward the women’s restroom. There were three suspicious looking figures, all of them trying to act inconspicuous by sticking out like sore thumbs.
Inside the women’s bathroom was exactly what she expected. Plain. Dirty. All metallic. Four toilet stalls sat along the back wall. The first one was missing a door, so she skipped it. Then she pushed open the second. Nothing but an empty stall on the other side.
She proceeded to open the remaining two doors in the same way, but just as with the prior stalls, they too, were empty.
“Where did you go?” Jegra asked.
“I’m right here,” a voice said, startling the living bejesus out of Jegra.
Jegra spun around to see a woman materialize from thin air. Rather, she was wearing cloaking technology. She appeared to be a Dagon but was heavily modified by all kinds of tech. Not quite a cyborg, but definitely an enhanced alien. “Who are you?” Jegra asked. But the woman didn’t answer.
“I need you to come with me, Jessica Hemsworth.” Noticing the shocked look on her face, a subtle smile formed on the woman’s lips, and she added, “Yes, I know who you are.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Jegra replied, playing it dumb.
“Look, I was paid to bring you to Grendok. He said you knew him.”
“Grendok?” Jegra echoed, her curiosity piqued. The last time she’d seen the satyr was when she’d cut his head clean off in the arena. There was no way he was still alive. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Grendok is dead. I mean, I heard he was killed in the arena.”