Jegra Destroyer of Galaxies: JEGRA, #3

By Tristan Vick

An unstoppable evil has returned. It seeks only to destroy. The war she feared has finally come.

The enemy invasion has begun. Powerful beings from another galaxy threaten to topple the Commonwealth Alliance and destroy everything Jegra has worked hard to achieve--including galactic peace.

While H'aaztre's minions wreak havoc on unsuspecting systems and bring entire worlds to their knees, Jegra and her rebel allies prepare themselves to face his armada head on. If that weren't trouble enough, the satyr homeworld of Galliforn has been destroyed and the Dagon Imperial fleet is losing its hold on the margins of the Empire. 

As things escalate, Jegra discovers she is with child and that H'aaztre desires her unborn baby for his new vessel. Against impossible odds, she must hold off an invasion, prevent the alliance from falling apart, and stop a diresome evil from abducting her unborn child.
Fans of Star Wars, John Carter of Mars, and Red Sonja will be thrilled to the heavens with JEGRA: GLADIATRIX OF THE GALAXY where a woman made a slave discovers a greater destiny waiting for her in the stars. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tristan Vick
• Release date: Feb 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781950106059

Book preview

A REGOLITH PUBLICATIONS BOOK

The Chronicles of Jegra: Destroyer of Galaxies

Gladiatrix of the Galaxy Book 3

By Tristan Vick ©2018. All Rights Reserved

Published by Regolith Publications

First Edition, copyright © February 24, 2019.

Edited by Sheila Shedd

Cover art by Jackson Tjota

Interior book design by Tristan Vick

www.tristanvick.com

References to the Dominion and Nova Centauri Red are the copyright of A.A. Warren and the Talon universe, ©2019-2020.

Used with permission.

All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the original purchaser only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people without the permission of the publisher or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in the novel are products of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-1-950106-04-2

ISBN-10: 1-950106-04-7

1

Black stars filled the white phosphorus sky. Only, they weren’t stars. They were the pinpricks of empty space that existed between the flood of celestial squid entities that illuminated the firmament with their atomic radiance. Their heavenly glow was both beautiful and terrifying as they spilled out of the jagged tear in space known to deep space travelers as The Rift.

Behind the giant celestial cephalopods that, like other dimensional refugees, streamed into the borders of the Commonwealth, a cosmic alliance encompassing seven star systems with multiple inhabitable planets and moons, was an armada of unknown origin. An invasion force from beyond the other side of The Rift. A strange enemy from a realm existing somewhere at the farthest reaches of the universe.

The scribes of the Enchiridion surmised that at the end of the universe lies an unfathomable place where the very edge of all existence meets the infinite void. A place where time and space have no meaning, and the laws of physics do not abide. A place wherein, they say, lurk ancient beings so terrible that to fathom their primordial essence would cause the greatest minds alive to fracture with madness.

The Chiron, Admiral Grendok’s flagship and the only remaining vessel in the sector that hadn’t been completely wiped out by the energy-sucking celestial squids, hung in space suspended like an ancient monolith. The massive starship, designed as a ram’s head, kept a safe distance from the advancing armada and celestial entities.

I want a full scan of that armada. I want to know armaments, shielding output, what kind of engines they’re using. And by Pan’s beard, I want it yesterday! the satyr growled as he clutched the arms of his command chair with such intensity that his nails left shallow scratch marks.

Sir, Sub Commander Tabitha Almathea said looking up from her station. We can’t seem to breach the interference caused by the CSE’s energy output. They’re scrambling all our readings with their radioactivity.

How close to the Celestial Squid Entities would we need to be to cut through the interference and get a read on those ships?

Technically speaking? Tabitha scratched behind her twitching goat’s ear and then turned toward the admiral. We’d need to be on the other side of the entire wall of CSEs to get a solid read. But that would, of course, leave us open to attack, flanked on all sides. And since those ships managed to destroy most of our fleet, it’s a good bet that they’d make scrap out of us too.

Ready a probe, he said, standing up as he gazed out the view portal at the yellow sparkling sky, filled with giant monsters. The smallest of them were the size of the largest sea-faring whales on the ocean world of Kree’alek; the largest of the creatures rivaled even the Chiron in size.

What the CSEs were known for, however, was their voracious appetites. They feasted on atomic power and would drain any starship using fusion propulsion.

And to make matters worse, they absorbed almost all energy-based weapons too, including laser and disruptor blasts, and could defang any war ship. Their crustacean shells looked like a mix between a marine squid and a king prawn, and made the creatures that much harder to kill. Only missiles did any actual damage to their spiny plating, but the damage was always mitigated by the creature’s natural ability to absorb the energy of the blasts.

A chime from one of the officer’s consoles sounded and the ensign looked up toward the viewscreen. Probe launched, sir, he informed the admiral.

The bridge crew watched in silent anticipation as the probe flew toward an opening between a cluster of the CSEs. It looked hopeful, too, as though it would pass through uninterrupted when, all of a sudden, the probe’s power drained away and the cylindrical device died halfway to its target. Its thrusters unable to fire, it drifted at an uneven keel until crashing into one of the squids and rebounding off only to continue its spinning cartwheel out into deep space.

Report! Grendok growled, annoyed by the probe’s failure. He’d been certain it would work, considering that the older model probes still used combustion technology.

It appears the squids drained the electrical system before the thrusters could fire. Once the batteries were out of juice, the navigation system shut down and the engines, not having any coordinates, simply cut out.

Blast it all to Helios!

Sir, Tabitha said, swiveling in her chair and eyeing the captain from across the command bridge. We could try blasting a hole in the cluster of CSEs using the missiles. It might give us a chance to send in another probe through the opening we make.

Do it, Grendok said.

Lock onto target and fire the first missile on my command, Almathea instructed the crew. Wait twenty seconds then fire a second missile at the first, and a third at the second. We’ll detonate them after the first one loses power; that way, by the time the second reaches the blast zone, we will trigger a chain reaction that will take the first one with it and blow those creatures into calamari.

Yes, ma’am, the ensign replied with a nod.

Tabitha pointed through the view portal at the glowing wall of celestial bodies and gave the order. And fire!

The Chiron’s missile canopies opened and the first Python class missile raced away from the war vessel at remarkable speeds. In a blink, it twinkled away, its bright thrusters burning like blue-tipped Roman candles as they shrank into the distance. The moment it could no longer be tracked visually, the second missile launched.

The approaching missile neared the first one’s position when, as predicted, its thrusters also died down. All its power was already being syphoned off by its proximity to the energy-sucking creatures.

The third Python missile came in hot, and just before it could be shut down, it detonated behind the others.

One by one the remaining missiles exploded, the energy of the first igniting the subsequent one following it, creating an explosive daisy chain that, at last, reached the first missile. Luckily, it was well within the cluster of the celestial bodies.

The missile flashed bright, like a mini nova, and five of the nearest squid entities were incinerated in its fiery wake. A couple smaller CSEs, close enough to be injured but not destroyed, rapidly dimmed, their blue luminescent bodies cooling to a dull gray.

The sub commander’s tactical ploy had worked, and the bridge crew of the Chiron erupted with cheers. It was a small victory, but important nonetheless.

Tabitha puffed up her chest, her furry, white cleavage filling her v-cut, leather uniform quite nicely, and smiled to herself. Her gambit had paid off. She hadn’t been sure it would, but it did. Now they had a chance to get a probe through the enemy fleet’s defenses.

Although the CSEs seemed to absorb most forms of energy, including nuclear energy, she’d suspected that releasing high-yield neutron missiles would create a spike in energy so extreme that the CSEs wouldn’t be able to absorb it all fast enough. Basically, she forced them to overdose on their favorite drug.

Admiral Grendok nodded in approval and Sub Commander Tabitha Almathea smiled at him and returned his gesture with a slight bow.

He had picked her as his first officer when he discovered that she was something of a tactical genius. Back in the academy, she had beat an impossible to beat war simulation called Meka Kakon, when she tricked the computer into perceiving itself as the enemy. In the simulation, the enemy ships turned on one another, but the program couldn’t handle the error and shorted. She was put on probation for the destruction of the school’s property, but it didn’t matter. She had not only won the simulation but helped reveal a critical weakness in the military security programming.

This alone was enough to catch his eye when hand picking his bridge officers. And that’s why he put her in command of his ship.

Launch the probe now, he ordered, and another probe shot from the missile tube and tore away from the Chiron at full throttle as it headed into the dark pocket left by the previous explosion.

When the torpedo-shaped device sailed through the opening in the squid armada’s barrier, there were small shouts of joy and audible sighs of relief.

Without taking her eyes off the viewscreen, Tabitha relayed the good news. The probe has broken through successfully, sir.

Admiral Grendok clasped his hands behind his back and stood and watched with a keen interest in what would happen next. Well done, Sub Commander, he said, praising her success.

Sir, the ensign said in a nervous voice, looking up at the admiral with worried eyes that almost seemed to water at the very thought of having to share bad news. The probe is having trouble getting any readings. It seems the enemy fleet is jamming it somehow.

Is it the radiation spikes? the sub commander asked.

I don’t think so. It seems to be something else, commander.

Can you get me a tally of those ships? At the very least, I want to know the size of the invasion force we’re dealing with here.

Pinging the ships now. There was a brief pause as the sound of a sonar emitter echoed through the command center. The young satyr gulped nervously as he gazed down at his display panel. Um...

Tabitha leaned over the ensign’s shoulder and glanced at the readout. Eight hundred and ninety-seven vessels and roughly the same number of CSEs.

By Pan’s beard, Grendok said, stroking his own beard unconsciously. That’s the exact number of war capable vessels in the entire Commonwealth.

They intend to match our galactic defenses with a one to one ratio. But, surely, their firepower is superior to over half of the rundown ships available for immediate deployment. And that’s not even including the number of ships stuck in space docks for repairs and retrofits.

Sub Commander, give me an assessment of how many of those vessels we could take out if we made a hyper-jump straight into the center of their armada.

Sir?

Just the raw estimates, Tabitha, he reiterated, using her name to soften the terribleness of his request.

She fetched a small glass touch-display from a side pocket and began imputing some rough estimates. After a moment, she looked up. Her expression was unresponsive. More bad news.

He could sense she was hesitating. Just spit it out, he said after another second. He tried not to sound harsh; he knew that was how he came across much of the time.

We would barely penetrate the CSE defense perimeter.

Maybe we could try another barrage of Python missiles? the tactical officer suggested.

No, Tabitha said, pointing out the view portal at the cluster of celestial squids. They’re already repositioning themselves to neutralize any head-on attacks. I’m afraid our luck this time around was a one-off event.

In that case, we have no choice but to withdraw from this engagement, Grendok stated. Although, it was more of an order than an observation. If there was a chance they could win it, even with a glorious sacrifice, then they’d need to regroup and rethink things.

Sub Commander Almathea looked at Grendok. In three centuries, no Galliforn vessel had ever retreated from a battle. But nobody had ever encountered a force like this before, either. Even though it was unprecedented, they may very well be the last of their kind, and to go down fighting wasn’t the answer. It was suicide.

Full reverse, Grendok said.

Full reverse, Almathea echoed.

Set course to... he paused, then, against his better judgement, said, Dagon Prime.

Sub Commander Almathea didn’t even question the order. As strange as it was to show up on your enemies’ doorstep, if they were going to stand a chance against this invasion force, they’d need the might of the Dagon Empire behind them. And the might of the newly crowned empress, Jegra Alakandra.

Without the empress to back their cause, there would be no way of brokering a deal between Galliforn and Dagon. But as an intermediary, she might be able to make a plea on their behalf. At the moment, it was their best shot.

After all, they had just watched an unknown enemy force lay waste to their homeworld, and if any Dagon had an ounce of common sense, they would realize that doing nothing merely meant they’d be next on the chopping block.

Even as sympathy was lacking among the Dagon people, Grendok had a hunch that even the most corrupt politicians of the Dagon High Council had enough common sense to protect their self-interests both at home and abroad. They wouldn’t dare risk sitting idly by while their precious empire crumbled all around them and a foreign power stripped them of their vitality.

In the end, the old adage was true–the enemy of your enemy is your friend. It wasn’t the perfect plan, but right now it was all they had.

In a flash, a halo of light engulfed the Chiron and it disappeared into the hyperspace stream. As the rainbow kaleidoscope of psychedelic light stretched away into an infinite funnel before them, Grendok looked away from the forward view screen and settled into the command chair.

Sub Commander Almathea swiveled around in her chair and gazed at him from across the bridge. He glanced up and they shared a moment. Neither of them could muster a smile, but given the circumstances and the great loss they had just experienced, it was enough that they could maintain their composure at all.

Grendok leaned back and crossed his hoofed foot over his knee. After giving his uniform a tug at the waistline to draw out the wrinkles, he leaned onto the arm of his chair with a heavy elbow and planted his chin on his fist. He soon found himself lost to his thoughts, his mind dedicated to one and only one thing: finding a weakness in this seemingly invincible and terrible new force...and exploiting it.

2

It had been three days since Danica had awakened from her coma, for which Jegra was extremely relieved. But her body was so severely fatigued that she needed to be bedridden for another few days. Per the doctor’s orders, she was confined to their quarters and was only allowed to get up and move around on crutches to use the bathroom and to do her physical therapy.

This sucks, Danica lamented, sitting up in bed next to Jegra, who sat beside her in a chair, reading Moby Dick.

What does? Jegra asked, placing the book down. She scooted over to her lover and took her hand.

I need to pee, she answered. Before she could get out of bed, however, a shocked look settled onto her face and her cheeks flushed bright pink. Looking down at the bed, she let out a disappointed sigh.

What is it? asked Jegra, worried for her best friend.

I just pissed myself, Danica replied, her face glowing with embarrassment.

It’s fine, Jegra said, touching Danica’s shoulder. I’ll clean it up. Jegra rose from her chair, stretched, and headed over to grab a towel and some cleaning supplies.

You do realize you literally have nurses, servants, and an entire cleaning staff to do this sort of stuff for you, right?

Danica watched as Jegra nodded, bending down to open a pantry in the bathroom. I know.

Yeah, but I don’t want you to suffer the humility and indignation of...well...you know. You’ll have to touch my sopping sheets full of urine. It’s not dignified.

Still embarrassed, she covered herself and the wetness soaking through the bedspread. But you don’t have to do this. Really.

Jegra laughed, turning around to confront Danica, a towel draped over her arm. Stop being a big crybaby and let me do this for you.

You know, once upon a time I found you completely repulsive because you did stuff like this.

What? Piss the bed? That was one time! And I was sloshed.

Danica shrugged. I think it was more than just one time.

Jegra shrugged and they both laughed. She returned to the bedside and, kneeling down, took Dani’s hand in hers. I know, she said, smiling ruefully. But the temptation was too much for you. You just had to have me.

Is that so? Danica batted her eyes, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and stared into Jegra’s eyes.

After all, Jegra whispered, her lips getting dangerously close to Dani’s, the forbidden fruit tastes so much sweeter when nobody is watching.

"Oh, hush! I didn’t fall in love with you because you were easy. I fell in love with you because you did something...something I could never muster up the courage to do. You stood up to Dakroth. Right then and there, I knew you were a woman to be reckoned with. And that was more attractive to me than all your faults combined."

You flatter me! Jegra said, batting away the compliment with a gentle wave of the hand.

Do you think I’ve changed? asked Danica, after a moment’s thought.

I know you have, Dani. And for the better, Jegra squeezed Dani’s hand and then began gathering the bedding up in her arms.

With a grunt, Danica tried to climb out of bed but Jegra stopped her with a gentle touch. Don’t worry, my love. I’ll handle it.

You sure? You’ll smell like piss afterward.

According to you, when don’t I?

Oh, stop it! I was only teasing about that.

I know, Jegra replied. And I love you too, so, of course, I’m going to take care of you. At the end of the day, it’s just you and me, babe.

Danica slid to the side to allow Jegra to pull the bedding out from under her. As she sat there, she turned and gazed out the window of their bedroom. It’s just that...

You’ve basically turned into me? Yeah, I know. Apparently, my DNA has that effect on people.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to be more like you. But sometimes I miss the old me. I miss Cassera.

That bitch? Jegra said, squinting her nose and giving Danica a sour look. The one with the stick so far up her ass that smiling made her butt hurt?

Both women laughed out loud and Jegra finished collecting the linens and tossed them into a pile in the corner of her room. She’d finish with them later. Then, using her best fake British accent, she asked, Fancy a bath, m’dear?

Will you be joining me? Danica asked with a coy grin.

Why, my dear Dani, she waved her hand dramatically and stuck out her hips, striking a pose, are you hitting on me?

And what if I am? Dani, reached for her crutches but Jegra intervened and scooped her up in her arms as though she were a bride on their honeymoon.

Surprised by the sudden maneuver on Jegra’s part, Danica threw her arms around Jegra’s neck and leaned in and gave her a peck on her cheek. You do know you’re the most important thing to me in the whole bleedin’ galaxy, right?

Ditto, Jegra said as she gently set Dani into the piping hot bath, which had been set to fill on an automated timer.

My robes, Danica laughed, looking down at her garments soaking into the hot water. Jegra ignored it and climbed in with her satin robes on as well.

At least we’ll save on the dry cleaning bill.

Dani laughed and leaned in and kissed Jegra on the lips.

Jegra pulled back, slightly, Oh, hon, she said, waving her hand in front of her face to signify a putrid smell, my morning breath is practically lethal right now.

Don’t worry. I’ve sort of gotten used to all your foul odors over the past year and a half.

Oh, you have, have you? Jegra shot Dani a devious look. Danica nodded politely but Jegra didn’t relinquish her firm gaze. It was only then the bubbles rose to the surface and made small plip-plip sounds as they expelled a most hideous odor. An odor so foul that Danica’s nostrils virtually screamed out in terror before she pinched them shut.

Oh, my Gilded Lord! Danica said, her face turning green. You’re downright nasty, girl.

You know you love me, Jegra said, squinting up her face and acting all cutesy. One final bubble blipped on the surface and Jegra smiled.

Unable to deny it, Danica smiled too and slid over to her partner, her open robe floating on the surface of the water like angelic wings. Softly, she pressed her warm body up against Jegra’s. I do love you. And to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt, I shall now kiss you, stank breath, fart-water and all.

The two women laughed and then locked lips. Slowly, they slid beneath the water in a romantic embrace; the bath overflowed onto the granite floor.

After their little morning tryst, both women rinsed themselves off and reclined in opposite ends of the ample tub.

I could stay in here forever, Danica said, throwing one leg up over the edge of the tub and another over Jegra’s, which was already hanging over the edge of the tub.

Me too, Jegra said, exhaling a long, drawn out breath as she closed her eyes and just let herself feel at home for once. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly felt at home. It was a feeling she didn’t want to take for granted.

Before they could get too comfortable, however, the palace comm system chimed, signaling an incoming message.

Answer, Jegra said, sitting up in the tub. Hovering before them, a holovid screen came to life, its blue light projecting its image onto Jegra’s bare skin. Reaching out, she pinched the holographic projection as though it were a layer of acrylic body paint and peeled it off her. The holovid responded to her gestures and acted like a real kind of film, even falling limp in her fingers like a loose sheet of paper.

She whipped out her hand and tossed the glowing display out into the open room. It flew up onto the wall, revealing the well chiseled jawline and hooked nose of her favorite Dagon officer.

Sorry to bother you, Your Majesty, said her chief of security, Meleh’Kendar. Although he was short for a Dagon male, he was built as sturdy as they came.

He was six-foot-even, barrel chested, and appeared as though he could take on a Kalaxian rhino single handedly. The perfect man to head her security detail.

What is it, chief?

My contact has informed me that a shipment of Nividium will be arriving at the port in Arena City at zero seven hundred hours.

Kalax also happened to be in the province Meleh’Kendar was from, one that had been ravaged by civil unrest for over a century. It was the last place on Dagon Prime where outlaw activity still existed.

Needless to say, Jegra had surprised Dakroth when she requested Meleh’Kendar become her head of security on Thessalonica. Dakroth had merely hired him for his black-market connections in Kalax, but the emperor, being the fickle man that he was, had since grown bored with that business venture. Thereby allowing Jegra to attain Meleh’Kendar’s services.

And Jegra put him to good use, too. He was her eyes and ears among the people. He employed whisperers, the Dagon term for spies, in every province on the planet and had an information network that would get you dirt on any high ranking official that you liked.

Over the course of the past year, Jegra had rummaged up the juiciest and most scandalous details about everyone she could possibly think to hold leverage over. Danica had helped create profiles for Jegra’s worst potential enemies, ranking them from highest threat level to the lowest.

Naturally, Senator Targon Van Morgan topped the list. And his daughter, Callestra Van Morgan, came in at fourth place, after a couple of other corrupt politicians and one loyalist Drug Lord and business tycoon named Gerard Van Zallek.

Although the sale of recreational drugs at dispensaries for personal use wasn’t outlawed on Dagon Prime, the unlawful distribution of them was explicitly illegal. Which meant all drugs, including the current favorite, Nividium, needed to go through proper channels.

Zallek, who had inherited his father’s import and export business, was the first to realize the potential for a drug trade, whereby he owned an entire network of distributers and vendors. That’s why Zallek’s drug empire was so vast. He was the first to capitalize on commercial drug sales, turning what had been a small venture into a veritable empire.

Nowadays, he produced and manufactured his own narcotic commodities, and his drug Nividium was all the rage throughout the Commonwealth.

But even as he was a legitimate businessman, there was a recent surge in unlawful distribution of the drug that was getting onto the streets of nearly every major city across the sector—including Arena City. Jegra had suspected for several weeks now that it was Zallek himself who was leaking the drugs as a way to entice new customers to his dispensaries. And if it was, she was determined to shut him down.

Jegra rose out of the bath, her sodden robes sliding off her graceful figure and falling across the edge of the tub. Meleh’Kendar diverted his eyes from her naked body as she grabbed a cotton bathrobe off a nearby hook.

I appreciate the update, she said, cinching up her sash and fastening it around her waist with a loose knot. Inform Raphine I’ll be needing her particular expertise this morning.

Yes, Your Majesty, Meleh’Kendar replied, and with that, the holovid screen flicked and then disappeared into thin air.

A grunt escaped Danica’s lips as she forced herself out of the tub and Jegra spun around in shock. What do you think you’re doing?

What does it look like? Danica asked, her voice defensive. I’m going with you.

Like Helios you are! Jegra took a step forward only to be stopped by Danica throwing up a firm hand.

I’ve been useless to you for longer than anyone would care to acknowledge and I’m going out of my mind being cooped up in this place! Please, don’t make me beg you. I need this.

I thought you liked it here.

I like being with you. But when you’re gone, this place feels like a mausoleum. I need to get out and do something. Breathe the fresh air. Feel alive again.

Jegra hurried over and knelt by the tub. Taking Dani’s hands in hers, she managed to calm her down and have her settle back into the bath. I had no idea you felt that way.

Danica took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest. Yeah, well sharing my feelings isn’t exactly my strong suit.

Dani, look at me. She waited for Dani’s beautiful amber eyes to fix on her brown ones. "Whatever it takes, we’ll get through this together. And, I know, believe me, I know you didn’t ask for my help or my sympathy. But you have it anyway. Just put that Dagon pride of yours away for two minutes and hear me out on this."

Danica reached up and moved a wad of wet hair that clung awkwardly to the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear. I’m listening, she said, restlessly tapping her foot.

I beg you. Please, let your body recover. We have all the time in the world to be together. To go on adventures. To get neck deep in trouble. Your people live hundreds of years and I hardly age at all now that I’ve been modified into... she gestured at her Amazonian physique and continued, this.

I hate to admit it, but when you’re right, you’re right, Danica said after a long pause. She smiled and Jegra leaned in and kissed her forehead.

Danica unfolded her arms and smiled as she watched Jegra leave the room to prep for her secret mission. Before leaving her completely, though, Jegra paused in the doorway, looked over her shoulder, and blew Danica a kiss.

Dani pretended to catch it and smiled warmly. Jegra smiled back and then disappeared out the exit. After Jegra was gone, she waited as the large chamber doors latched shut and then, with a bit of effort, she clambered out of the tub. Her legs wobbled beneath her slender blue frame, and she hobbled over to where her crutches leaned against the wall, next to the robe Jegra had laid out for her.

Making haste, she threw on the robe without even bothering to tie it off. Swinging on her crutches, she raced across the room as quickly as she could and came to the oak dressers.

Danica tossed the crutches aside, not caring where they fell, and slumped down to her knees. Her fingers were already trembling as she rummaged hastily through her bottom drawer until she finally found the small inhaler of Nividium that she’d stashed there.

She promptly drew it out and put it to her lips. Inhaling deeply, she held it in and then gasped out. The effects of the drug took hold almost immediately and she fell onto her back, caught up in a state of pure euphoria.

Nividium was about the only thing that helped ease the pain of her recovery, the pain of her trauma, and provided a recreational outlet while she wasted away in this palace tower like some kind of barred princess.

Sprawled out across the cool black marble floor, replete with floral arabesque patterns and interlaced with fine silver throughout, she lay staring up vacantly at the mustard painted ceiling. Her pupils dilated and her thoughts became dream-like.

Danica shifted her hips to a more comfortable position, her white bathrobe slipping open allowing the pleated folds of the robe to frame her naked, indigo body like a pair of angel wings. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her back slowly arched as though she were possessed by the goddess of love herself. Unable to hold back the euphoric sensation, she gasped, and a shiver of ecstasy shot up and down her entire spine.

3

Rainbow colored light danced across the metallic hull of the Chiron as it traversed the stream. Inside the command center, Admiral Grendok was so deep in thought, he barely caught a glimpse of his first in command, Sub Commander Almathea, peering at him with her doe eyes.

Another time, another life, he may have very well asked her out on a date. But he was old and weary and the threat of a new war weighed him down. He was no longer the strapping young faun he’d once been, and didn’t have time for such luxuries.

The admiral let out a sigh and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he gradually raised his gaze to find Almathea still staring at him. He tried to muster a smile, but found his lips frozen on his face.

Is there something I can do for you, Sub Commander? he finally asked, realizing she wasn’t looking away.

You look tired, sir. And it will be at least eight hours before we reach Dagon space. If the admiral would like to retire, I can hold down the fort until we arrive.

I prefer to remain on the bridge, my dear, he replied. I do my best thinking when I can gaze upon the heavenly beauties.

She blushed when he did not look away from her face. Not only did she blush, but she found her heart racing inside her chest as well. And although she’d nurtured a crush on the admiral for years, she’d never had the courage to reveal her true feelings for him. But now, in their time of great mourning, it seemed as though he could see right into her soul.

As the admiral wishes, she said, smiling gently. Turning back toward the view portal, she crossed her arms behind her back and gazed out with him at rainbow swirl of stars. He wasn’t wrong; it was hypnotic and somehow eased one’s mind. The thoughts came easily, and she ran through a thousand and one scenarios of how she might express her admiration and love of him that didn’t involve her immediate dismissal.

No, Tabitha, she thought, reprimanding herself in her own mind. There are more important things to concern yourself with right now. Like the entire fate of the galaxy, for one. And for another, Grendok was never the kind of faun-folk to engage in dalliances with crew members. Thank the Bearded One. He is a gentleman, through and through. A noble satyr.

Eight and a half hours later, they dropped out of hyperspace and settled into a geosynchronous orbit over Dagon Prime, just behind the moon Thessalonica. It was Sub Commander Almathea’s idea, however, that they jump into a stationary orbit behind Thessalonica to mask their presence from the Dagon security forces long enough for them to contact the empress. After all, they weren’t entirely sure the emperor or the High Council would even hear them out. But Jegra would. It was in her nature to want to help. A strange trait of her species, he supposed.

Approaching Thessalonica, sir. Should I hail the empress?

No, that won’t be necessary. Just signal her that the Galliforn fleet commander wants to meet with her and that it’s a matter of utmost urgency.

Grendok signed morning reports on his way to the shuttle bay. Leaving the Chiron in the care of Tabitha was easy. There was no one better suited to the job than she, and she was the best.

As he climbed aboard his shuttle, he handed the last glass touch-pad to the ensign trailing him and then looked for Tabitha. She was standing just a meter behind him and smiled when he looked upon her. I take it you’ll take good care of my ship?

As if she were my own, Tabitha replied with a small curtsy.

Grendok smiled, brushed down his uniform, and then turned and boarded his shuttle.

Sub Commander Tabitha Almathea watched the shuttle–shaped like a wooly sheep, in her estimation–rise up and slowly ease toward the opening bay doors. Once the doors were fully open, the shuttle penetrated the energy shields that kept the hull pressurized but allowed objects to pass through. The technology was based on negative mass liquid.

In a nutshell, such shield technology was built on a kind of dark-matter field that maintained its tension the same way dark matter keeps spinning galaxies sticking together, preventing them from falling apart by creating a kind of cohesion that, at the same time, has surface tension which can maintain pressure.

The easiest way to imagine it was to think of a bubble. If you were careful enough, you could pass through the film of a bubble without actually rupturing it. This was the same thing, but with more advanced physics.

And with the shield regulators helping make the negative mass liquid more static, it prevented the ship’s pressure from evacuating into the vacuum of space whenever the bay doors were open.

A blue static ring engulfed the shuttle as it passed through the shields and then it was safely out the other side. As Grendok altered course, he looked out the view portal and saw Tabitha standing on the landing bay deck looking up at him. He nodded stoically and then turned his attention back to the controls.

He cleared the bow of the Chiron to find the orange, dusty ball of the moon, Thessalonica, glowing bright against the green and purple swirls of Dagon Prime.

Dagons, as a species, were rather large. The males were about six-feet three inches on average; the females were six-feet one. The satyrs of Galliforn, however, averaged around four-feet eleven inches in height, the tallest of them being around five-feet two. But Grendok had modified his clones with Dagon DNA in such a way that allowed them to grow to gigantic proportions. Jegra had bested one such clone in the arena three years ago.

The impossible feat had caught his attention and prompted him to keep close tabs on Jegra, the Gladiatrix of the Galaxy. It was just over a year ago that he’d decided to meet with her at Mardok, outside of the local pub, Scarback’s, and had acquired the services of Raven Nightguard for the purpose of arranging the meet up.

Back then, he’d lied to Jegra about being a clone. But he could never be too careful revealing his true self or his motives for doing what he did. He found that a certain amount of anonymity went a long way in easing the tensions of those who assumed having certain allegiances meant having certain agendas. Not an entirely wrong summation, but if one didn’t know of your allegiances, then they would be more willing to deal with