Falco Invictus: On the Forge of War (12 page)

“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 bio-mechanical 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 other'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 even 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.

“Jah.” 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.