"The Times is read by the people who run the country. The Daily
Mirror is read by the people who think they run the country. the
Guardian is read by the people who think they ought to run the
country. the Morning Star is read by the people who think the
country ought to be run by another country. The Independent is
read by the people who don't know who runs the country, but are
sure they're doing it wrong. The Daily Mail is read by the wives
of the people who run the country. The Financial Times is read by
the people who own the country. The Daily Express is read by the
people who think the country ought to be run the way it used to
be. The Daily Telegraph is read by the people who think it is
their country, and the Sun's readers don't care who runs the
country, providing she has big tits."
Bernard Woolley, Yes Prime Minister, Volume II,
Jonathan Lynn and Antony Jay
INTERGALACTIC SEX FANTASY
by Bryan Kennerley
Slowly he arose, summoned by the the fanfare that signalled
the imminent arrival of the leader of the Gajantrian Empire.
His heart beat a little faster as he tried to imagine the
appearance of his sworn enemy, who he was to finally meet after
so many years of bitter and unrepenting war. His ceremonial
battledress weighed heavy on his shoulders, but not nearly so
heavy as the burden of responsibility from his people to end the
fighting once and for all.
The signal was given, his opposite number had arrived and
was standing just on the other side of the door. Slowly the
double doors parted, revealing the huge corridor beyond. A
veritable throng of Gajja bodyguards moved firmly across the
blood red carpet towards his seat of power, protecting their
leader from sight as well as from harm. When would he see...
The head gorilla stepped forward from the group and
announced with almost painful volume "Empress Cachatoria of
the Gajantrian Empire!". The sea of muscle parted to reveal
the foe he had been battling against for as long as he had been
ruler.
"So...we meet at last Danyon", in soft, almost melodic tones
drifted across the room to greet his ears, as their eyes locked
for the first time. Her eyes. As he met her stare the room seemed
to fade away, the shared tunnel of intent concentration growing
to fill his mind and all his senses. He forced himself to speak.
"Yes, at last" he said, slowly stepping forwards, each
step deliberate, as if requiring great force of will to make
it. She was not at all how he had imagined her. Over the years
the myth of the "Devil Queen" had grown out of all proportions
throughout his world and domain, images of a gnarled,
embittered dragon woman comdemning all who displeased her to
death were widespread, yet now.....now before him stood the
most beautiful woman he had ever seen, much smaller than
himself, slim but certainly not fragile, strong yet not overtly
physically so; if she was a devil then her eyes must be the
fires of hell itself, such was the burning he felt as she
examined the man she saw before her.
Danyon stood at equal stature to the meatheads surrounding
the Empress, yet his fair hair and crystalline blue eyes set
him far apart. He could easily take any one or perhaps more of
them on in a fair fight or otherwise, yet his strong features
and powerful gaze indicated a thoughtful predisposition and
intellect which engendered an instant presence, denying any
conclusion other than this man was a born leader, Commander of
the Unified Armies. How he yearned for that title to fall into
obsolescence, he didn't want history to remember him as a
warrior, though his outstanding ability as a strategic thinker
and planner made that ever more likely. Unless.
The Empress slowly lowered her gaze, though not removing her
eyes from him for a moment, scanning purposefully down his
proud torso, capturing every inch of him within her mind. Taking
advantage of the momentary pause, Danyon surveyed the woman
standing before him. Dressed totally in black, his initial
thought was that her ceremonial dress was a lot less...well, less
than his own. Almost a mockery of a warrior's battledress, it
gripped her form so precisely that she could have been born
into it. Before he could make any deeper observations she
spoke.
"You are much...taller than I had imagined, Danyon."
"I thought I ought to make the effort." he replied. She
smiled and he could not help but respond likewise. His eyes
slipped away from hers for a brief instant and onto her
glistening lips. He prayed she wouldn't notice. Or maybe he was
praying that she would.
"If you would like to come this way", intruded a voice,
offering to introduce the Empress to her quarters.
As she walked past Danyon she turned her head and gazed deep
into his eyes, softly uttering "We shall talk later".
*****
The arrival of "later" took an eternity. The events taking
place were of such importance to so many people, of so many
worlds, yet instead of working out the strategy of the
forthcoming negotiations, all Danyon could think of was
his rival's eyes, and those lips...
Around the table of negotiation that night, progress was
slow. Not a word passed between the two leaders, each instead
addressing the opposing captains and trained negotiators.
Argument faded into contradiction, but the apparent coolness of
the two leaders prevented proceedings from decaying into
outright squabbling. No-one was expecting too much progress
to be made at this first meeting, and if agreed temporary
stalemate qualified success then a success it was.
As the meeting drew to a close, Danyon and Cachatoria waved
away their aides, who cautiously granted them a moment
together, hoping that words between the two leaders may
succeed where negotiations between the two empires had not.
Their minds had been matched against each other countless
times in the countless battles, from opposite ends of star
systems, and now they sat at opposite sides of a table,
barely feet apart, two tacticians watching each other, waiting
for the other to make a move. The Empress stood up and
Danyon did likewise. Slowly she walked towards him, her eyes
fixed upon his face. Although he too had his eyes on hers, he
could not help but surreptitiously follow the arc of her hips
as she approached him, her exaggerated black dress
complimenting her figure perfectly, her hair worn up, emphasizing
her strong cheekbones perfectly. They stood for a moment,
barely inches apart, her perfume pervading his nostrils, his
lungs tightening ranks against the power of this attack. Her lips
parted as if to speak, but held there tantalizingly. She raised
one hand to her head and pulled her long, dark hair loose,
shaking it free with a short but effective movement of her head.
Danyon felt all strength leave his body.
"We shall...talk, later." she sighed, turned and left the room.
*****
That night Danyon sat in his chambers, his mind and body
racing. Idly he tried watching the news reports filled
with endless speculation on the outcome of the negotiations
in which he was a major player. It was no use, he switched the
display screen off with a frustrated sweep of his right hand. An
idea occurred to him.
"Computer, give me the securicam in the Empress's quarters,"
he said with a wry smile flickering across his lips.
Instantly the screen showed a broad view of Cachatoria's
suite, the luxorious decor slightly more splendid than his
own. Two burlesque guards stood by the door, almost catatonic.
But no sign of the woman he sought. A frown crossed his brow
and he thrust himself back into his omni-positional chair and
promptly fell onto the floor as the door whistled, signifying a
visitor.
Rolling deftly to his feet and straightening his garb, he
moved towards the door. Pressing the control panel, the door
slid open, revealing a slightly more heavily attired incarnation
of the Empress, flanked by three disappointingly less attired
bodyguards. Attiring them fully would probably take a large chunk
of the military budget.
"Friend or foe?", enquired Danyon politely.
"Leave us", said Cachatoria to her guards, deliberately
avoiding answering that particular question in front of them.
The head guard stepped forward as if to protest but the Empress
put him back in his place with a single icy glare which struck
visibly deeper than any physical blow could have done.
As she stepped through the portal, the guards eyes were
fixed firmly upon Danyon. "It's so hard to get the staff these
days." he directed at the largest guard as the door slid shut
between them.
"So, your Empressness...what brings a girl like you to a nice
place like this?"
"It is time to talk," oozed the Empress as she removed her
outer cloak to reveal a black, silken dress with tactfully,
or perhaps tactically, positioned holes revealing acres of
naked flesh leading the eye straight towards those parts
which were still, at least partially, covered.
Danyon gaped, though his military training had taught him to
do so with his mouth firmly shut. It didn't work. The smile
on his counterpart's face made that perfectly clear.
"May I offer you a drink?" he finally managed.
"I'd be offended if you didn't".
"A jine and tonicks?"
"How do I know you won't slip some poison into my
glass?" Cachatoria asked, a playful slide in her voice.
"You don't," countered Danyon, fixing her in his gaze as
he handed her the glass. Neither one removed their eyes from
the other as they each took a sip.
"Well," she toyed, "I'm still here. What do you propose
we negotiate first?". She turned and surveyed the room.
"You know very well that there are people who would gladly see
us dead for just speaking to each other."
"Come now Danyon, we've spoken already, do you think they
would kill us twice?"
"Still, discretion would be a wise tactic."
"Is everything you do done for tactical reasons?"
"Your armies haven't reached me yet."
"And your viewscreen into my quarters...you were, perhaps,
planning to invade me?"
Danyon reached over to the control panel, disabling the
screen, blushing. Cacha sat down on the satin cloaked bed,
crossed her legs and took a slow sip from her glass,
watching the man before her, awaiting his next move.
"Somehow," Danyon started, "these negotiations aren't going
quite how I had planned."
"Somehow," Cacha replied, "I find that hard to believe."
Slowly he moved towards her, finishing his drink in one
swift motion. He lay the glass down and gently sank onto the
bed beside her, his muscular bulk causing her to fall gently
towards him. They now sat face to face.
"Danyon, there is something I feel I really ought to tell you."
"Will I like it?"
"Not particularly," she replied.
"Well, could it wait a while?"
"I wish it could, but what I have to say has to be said now or
it may be too late."
"What is it?
"I have to go to the bathroom."
*****
Danyon lay on his bed, examining the ceiling for flies. Here
he was, lying prostrate while the leader of the enemy empire
responsible for the loss of countless innocent lives was
in the bathroom, urinating. He couldn't see any which was no
real surprise since the air conditioning would consume any
wayward insects. He wondered how the Empress's species
urinated. Sure, they were very similar to humans, outwardly
at least, but many rumours had spread from the fighter pilot
squadrons about the genitalia of the enemy. Not all was
complimentary of course, but he wondered how true the ones
concerning the female gender were true.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of flushing
water. "Think man, look casual." he muttered, deciding that
siting reclined in his omni-positional chair would be a suitably
dramatic pose for he re-entrance. He lay back, using all of his
self control to look away from the door, so he could turn to
face her as it opened. Slowly it opened, and out stepped...
Out stepped a naked Empress. Before this moment he had
thought that perhaps her dresses were designed to hold her
body into the perfect shape, but now he saw that it was the
other way round, her body had obviously been genetically
engineered to show any garment off to maximum effect. Either that
or there was a god.
Danyon felt his jaw drop. No amount of training could have
saved him and he knew it would be useless to try. Silently she
traversed the distance between them, her hips etching a perfect
figure of eight in the air, leaving almost visible turbulence in
their wake. Her bare feet pointed with every step, their arc
intersecting with the ground almost immediately in front of the
other foot, exaggerating her whole motion yet further. An age
passed before she reached him and a thousand thoughts passed
through Danyon's mind, none of them grammatically correct,
so engrossed was he in the spectacle that lay in front of him.
Now she stood before him, her perfect breasts at eye level,
one nipple each. That was one rumour out of the window. But
somehow that didn't matter very much now, her firm and visibly
plyable mammaric prominences, atopped tantalizingly by twin
acute erectnesses, were crying out for third party manipulation.
Danyon reclined back in his chair just enough to include
Cacha's face in his vision.
"Danyon, one of the prime requisites of being a
military tactician is the ability to think laterally. Nice
chair."
*****
The next morning, Danyon awoke and rolled over in bed. He
half expected to feel the Empress Cachatoria's warm, still moist
body next to him but he did not. He chanced to open his eyes.
It was a fine summer's day and sunlight streamed through his
window and onto his face, arousing him from his slumber.
Then it struck him. He was no longer in his chambers on
his military flagship, this room was totally unfamiliar to
him, and he was naked. He struggled to remember what had
happened the night before, tried to reconstruct some semblence
of the events that had led to him being here. And then he
realised. His name was not Danyon, Commander of the Unified
Armies. It was Andrew. Andrew Royd, computer programmer.
"Oh fuck."
Disclaimer
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared
in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s)
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