CHAPTER 6: LITHANUL
"You. Let. Them. Escape!!" The queen's skin burned a deep crimson throughout the confrontation, never fluctuating or altering its hue or intensity. Her fury radiated from her, palpable and fierce, as if the air around her crackled with raw energy. The Mordechai commander, a seasoned warrior, began to tremble, anxiety coursing through him as he contemplated the terrible wrath the Queen could unleash upon him.
"My Queen, that ship destroyed the task force at an impossible speed!" he exclaimed, his voice quivering as he spoke in his native language, the syllables tumbling out with a heavy accent. Galactic Common was far too complex for him to articulate under such pressure. "Our sensors registered them in one position, yet they were simultaneously in a completely different location. They were launching missiles from one angle while hurling chunks of metal from another. We assumed they were playing tricks on us, using some kind of deception. We had no way of knowing which was the real ship!" The commander struggled to convey the chaos of the encounter, his mind racing. Light only travels so fast, he thought, and since the WarpStar could exceed that speed, it created the illusion of multiple vessels appearing in different places at once. The Mordechai had failed to grasp these fundamental principles of physics.
The Queen stood tall and resolute, her regal posture accentuating the authority she wielded. She glanced back and up toward her loyal military leader, her expression a blend of command and satisfaction. "Serve him for dinner; the rest of the brood needs food," she declared, a smile curling her lips as she redirected her gaze toward the captive, whose fate was now sealed.
"Yessssssssss, my Queen," Mel`Nar replied, his voice lingering on certain sounds of Galactic Common, emphasizing his obedience. The Mordechai Liege narrowed his eyes, fixating on his commander, a soft hiss escaping his lips—a sound laden with disdain for his brethren's failure to either capture the Sumerians or obliterate them entirely. The thought of ramming the ship and ensuring their destruction was a bitter pill to swallow, but the urgency of their plight demanded such extreme measures.
Queen Lithanul strode out of the chambers, her demeanor unyielding. She felt no obligation to concern herself with the fate of Mel`Nar's subordinate; she had given her orders, and it was the duty of her underlings to carry them out without question. Her singular desire was unwavering loyalty among her ranks. As she opened the door to her private quarters, she was met with the sight of her new loyal slave, lying naked and waiting, eager to please his master. Her skin glowed a deep crimson, a permanent reminder of her simmering anger. The male slave remained silent, acutely aware of the potential consequences of speaking out of turn, lest he invoke her wrath.
With a heavy breath, Queen Lithanul approached her bed, the weight of her anger still coursing through her veins. She sank down onto the soft surface, her body tense yet expectant. As her slave began to remove her clothing with deliberate care, she turned her gaze toward him, her piercing eyes locking onto his. "Have you been informed?" she inquired, her voice laced with authority, as he deftly untied her top gown, now shifting his focus to her lower garments, the air thick with unspoken tension.
"Yes, my love. The Mordechai has apprised me of the situation." He replied after carefully removing her shoes, his fingers lingering for just a moment on her delicate ankle. "The Sumerians are planning something. They have no reason to be here." The Queen laid down on her back, her skin still a vivid crimson, a stark contrast against the plushness of her bedding. As her slave began to rub an aromatic oil over her body, he worked diligently to soothe her frayed nerves, his touch both gentle and deliberate. "There is no logical explanation for their incursion here. They have remained neutral since the formation of their Empire," he continued, his voice steady despite the gravity of their conversation.
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"They are not here on behalf of the Senate. They would not have sent a clone ship," she countered, her voice firm yet laced with uncertainty. Her skin remained a deep shade of crimson, even as the intimate massage progressed, her slave's hands gliding over her with practiced ease. "They were after something, or... ohhh," she couldn't help but shiver as his touch inched tantalizingly close to her navel. For a brief moment, her skin fluctuated to a lighter shade, a fleeting reprieve before it snapped back to its angry hue. "That fucking ship! They were rescued by that fucking magical whatever the hell that ship is." Her frustration was palpable, the mystery gnawing at her like an insatiable hunger.
"They seemed to have played a special interest in the traitors," he mused, his fingers expertly kneading her feet as her soft moans escaped involuntarily from her lips, a symphony of pleasure and frustration intertwined. "What made the ship appear in multiple places at once, I wonder," he pondered aloud, his curiosity piqued. He paused momentarily, and the abrupt absence of his touch caused her skin to flare crimson once more, a visceral reminder of her heightened state of arousal.
"If you fucking stop one more time, you're going to end up on Mel'Nar's dinner plate!" she hissed, her voice a dangerous blend of warning and desire.
"You know, if the Senate finds out we destroyed a clone ship, they might send the fleet," he continued, undeterred by the fire in her tone, his focus unwavering as he resumed the massage.
"Let them find out. They won't send a corvette, let alone a fleet with the Legion in system," she shot back, her confidence unwavering, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.
"That is very curious as to why those mechanical beasts are even here," he remarked, moving his skilled hands up to work on her skull and upper arms, rubbing more of his body against hers, the heat radiating between them palpable. Her skin, once a furious crimson, began to lighten to a brighter red, an indication of the pleasure coursing through her from the deftness of his touch, blending frustration with a surprising sense of relief.
"Yes, curious indeed. They never showed before; why now?" She raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with skepticism as thoughts raced through her mind, contemplating the implications of their sudden appearance.
"Regardless, we need to find and capture the Sumerians. We can't let them send word. I already instructed the Mordechai to hunt them, so there’s no need to worry," he replied, his tone steady as he continued his ministrations. Her skin flared to a furious crimson red again, a wave of anger coursing through her veins at the audacity of her slave giving military orders without her consent. Yet, in that moment of indignation, she resisted the urge to lash out. Instead, she almost purred at his careful, light touch smothering her body, a contradictory sensation that both irritated and soothed her.
He paused for a moment, locking eyes with her as he instructed her to flip over. As she complied, he began to rub her stomach and breasts with deliberate care. "The population needs to be on your side as well; you need to get them fired up in support of the attack," he advised, his voice a low murmur filled with intent.
She smiled slyly, a glint of ambition sparking in her eyes. She had already devised a plan to gather support from the various worlds within the Alliance. "Don't worry about those peasants. They'll be eating out of the palm of my hand in due time!" The confidence in her voice held a promise of power, a vision she was determined to realize.
"Be careful, my Queen. You may have undying support from the Almorians, but the other members may not be so easily swayed," he cautioned, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the complexities of the political landscape.
"I have already set those wheels in motion. They'll all be crying for their annihilation soon enough!" Her voice dripped with certainty, a fierce determination coursing through her. She attempted to sit up and grab her slave, her desire for control igniting like a flame, but he forcefully pushed her back down, maintaining the delicate balance of power between them.
"No."
"What did you say?" She glowed a deep crimson and glared at him.
"I said no. Bitch!" Her slave hissed at her, as he grabbed her neck and shoved her up on the wall. "Now, you filthy cunt, you're my slave!"
The Queen didn't say a word as her slave furiously, and viciously attacked her naked body. Assault, after assault her skin transformed from crimson red, to a rich mix of red and purple, completely losing herself in the moment.