Revelation (M/F) (F/M) - A sequel to Devastation
Another roller coaster chapter, first this almost relaxed dialogue, relaxation - than the change. The brutality. It may be my language skills - but I do not understand why Nikita´s captor reacted that way. If I am not mistaken he signed his death warrant. Question is: will he present Nikita another opening. at the moment I doubt that. But time will tell.
She made a joke about him kidnapping her and having his wicked with her. Instead of taking it as a joke, he took it as an insult.Caesar73 wrote: ↑1 year ago Another roller coaster chapter, first this almost relaxed dialogue, relaxation - than the change. The brutality. It may be my language skills - but I do not understand why Nikita´s captor reacted that way. If I am not mistaken he signed his death warrant. Question is: will he present Nikita another opening. at the moment I doubt that. But time will tell.
Timw will twll as to his fate....
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
The guy has no sense of humour that is for sure. The thought of Nikita spending days in that predicament is - daunting.
[mention]wolfman[/mention], while I cannot help but feel sad at Nikita's plight, I still must admit that this was an exciting, edge-of-your-seat read.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
[mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention], the challenge is daunting and the odds are against her. The worst in some ways is syill to come, but then so is the best
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
Damn it, how did I let myself fall so far behind in this masterful tale, one full of twists and turns, intrigue and mystery, I’ve so much catching up to do, but it promises to be fun doing so,
Welcome back on board. I hope you find it to be a wild ride
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
He wakes up to the sound of a low keening wail. He checks his phone, tossing it aside with disgust.
He pads barefoot and naked across the room to his prisoner and silently walks around her limply hanging form.
Nikita cannot hear him but feels him near to her and hangs shivering with pain, giving no sign that she knows he is there. All she can so is give a muffled voice to her pain.
He pulls back his hand taking aim at her rump. He lets fly stopping at the last minute instead tracing the outline of her buttocks with a gentle finger tip.
Nikita jumps at his touch and struggles to pull away, wrenching her left shoulder in the process, triggering a new wave of pain and cries of despair.
Slowly, the cable is lowered and she can place her feet in the ground and take the strain off of her shoulders.
Once all tension is off of the cable and her bound wrists rest in the small of her back, he disconnects the cable and picks her up.
Nikita feels her skin against his and feels a sense of revulsion. “It must have been like this for Dani with Arno.” She thinks, as she is sat on the edge of the bed.
“We are going to talk and any lip from you will be dealt with harshly. Do you understand?” He asks, holding her steady. When she nods weakly, he reaches up and pulls off the face mask and snatches the sponge from her mouth.
He takes a sharp intake of breath seeing her face, eyes bloodshot and raw from tears, face flush with sweat. However most surprising is the half glazed look and refusal to look him in the eye.
He roughly grips her chin and forces her to look at him, “Insolence will not be tolerated.” He says, calmly. “You are responsible for your treatment, behave and you get treated well. However, any transgression, no matter how small will be punished. Do you understand?”
Nikita nods with a fearful look in her eyes. Thinking to herself, “If you cannot win with strength, make them lose to your weakness.”
He fixes her with a cold stare, commanding her, “Say it.”
Nikita opens her mouth hesitantly and after a moment, weakly says, “I understand.”
“Good.” He says with a sinister look in his eyes, “Now I have punished you for your mockery. Do you think you have been punished enough?” He speaks with an innocent tone, but his body language is that of a predator.
She casts her gaze down and chooses her words carefully, “That is not for me to decide.”
He smiles, apparently satisfied with her answer. “I think you have been punished enough.”
She visibly relaxes at the sound of this and with a tear in her eye softly whispers, “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. However, a thank you is just words. Actions underline them.” He says, setting up his trap.
“What would you have me do?” Nikita asks, suspecting what is brewing.
“I think you need to do something for me.” He says, with a hint of cruelty.
Nikita nods, unable to meet his gaze. In a faraway voice she speaks softly, “I guess that is fair.” Whilst thinking, “Gotcha, if you give me your bodily fluids, I will be able to resist the effects of Orichalcum as you do. Didn’t think it would be this quick though.”
He lifts her from the bed, placing her on her knees on the floor at its foot. Once he is sure she is stable, he fetches his bag and pulls out a metal ring over two inches wide with straps either side.
“Open your mouth,” He asks, his voice husky and his member awake.
Tentatively, she parts her lips, licking them involuntarily. He watches closely and his heart begins to thump in his chest. He slips the ring into her mouth twisting it to force her jaw wide. “Sorry Miss, this is a precaution in case you are a nibbler.”
Nikita doesn’t resist, when he moves her hair out of the way and buckles the straps tightly. “Soon.” She thinks, hardening her heart, while he ties back her hair into a ponytail.
He shuffles to the edge of the bed until his quivering manhood is a hair away from her mouth. Looking down at her he asks, “Do you want to do this?”
She looks up at him with sad doe eyes and nods, then turn back to his manhood and edging forward.
“Very well.” He says, with a smile, “Let me help you.” He whispers, taking himself in his hand and guiding it towards her waiting mouth. He pauses for a moment and smiles cruelly down at her, before slipping a condom down his shaft. “I know about your party trick.”
It takes all of Nikita’s will power not to cry out in frustration, when he enters her mouth and slams into the back of her throat.
Nikita kneels by the bed, pressing her face into the bed crying and screaming while he cleans himself off in the toilet.
Some moments later, he returns and sits on the bed. Languidly, he removes the ring gag, whilst still bathing in the afterglow of his orgasm. “Thank you very much Miss. I must admit that my research didn’t tell me that you could do that with your tongue.” He sneers, mockingly.
When she doesn’t respond, he pulls her onto the bed, forcing her to lie facing away from him. He moves in close, pulling her to him, pressing her back to his chest and forcing her hands near to his now flaccid member. He whispers in her ear, “Don’t pretend you don’t want this. Since whatever happened between you and Ivy, you have been punishing yourself. Must be nice to have someone do it for you?”
He waits for a moment, kneading her breasts before hissing in her ear again, “I asked you a question.”
Nikita mumbles softly, unable to give her full voice to the truth, “I have been punishing myself. I can’t forgive myself for what I did to her.”
He shifts his position tucking in closer to her, “What did you do? I want details and if you lie, I will know.” He licks her neck, and nibbles her earlobes.
“Fuck it. Bottling it up isn’t helping. Maybe a confession will be good for the soul. Besides, giving him something, Mike make him relax and get careless.” Nikita thinks, keeping her body language limp and lifeless. She takes a deep breath and confesses, “I took her to the coast and turned her into a shoal of fish, then fed her to a flock of gulls, so she would feel each death.”
The smile is chased from his lips, faster with each word he hears until she finishes, “Jesus. That is dark. I can see why you have been acting like you are out to punish yourself.”
Nikita’s heart sinks, feeling his manhood harden against her back. Knowing he will force himself on her again. She speaks weakly, too soft for him to hear.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” He says, sleepily.
Nikita repeats herself, “I can feel you getting ready back there. If I’m sucking you off again, please may I have a cigarette to take the taste of the last condom away before we start?”
He snorts, derisively, “Sure. Lucky for you, I have enough to get rid of the taste for nineteen more times.” He rolls back across the bed and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lights one, before holding it to her lips. “You are going to need something for the taste of the next one. I am thinking of pulling out the butt plug and then unleashing my weapon of ass destruction before finishing in your mouth.”
She leans forward and takes a deep lungful of smoke and holds it for a moment, savouring the sensation from the tobacco and the trace of his saliva on the cigarette butt. “Idiot.” She thinks, with a dark smile on her lips.
Smiling she exhales and thinks, “I can sense lifepulses again and I know who this prick is.” She takes another drag and realises, “I can sense him now too and I have the part of him that allows him to handle Orichalcum.” She gives no sign as she becomes accustomed to her power once again.
For a brief moment, she extends her lion’s fangs and retracts them, unseen by him. “Game on.” She thinks, taking another drag on the cigarette.
“Take your time, there is no rush.” He says mockingly, whilst he reaches over her a squeezes her left breast with a clammy hand.
He rises from the bed and stretches, making a show of his freedom, before his captor. Then he stubs out the cigarette and dumps the end of it in the bin by the sink.
He turns with a grin to face Nikita and his smile is replaced with a look of confusion, seeing his prisoner standing unfettered before him.
“That’s not possible.” He mumbles, confused, reaching for his bag. “I need to restraint you better.”
“Not happening, Armil.” Nikita says, calmly.
“Do not forget your place. I am in charge and you will submit to my authority.” He says, coldly.
“What authority? You’re nothing. You’re nobody. You are a morally weak, pathetic shell of a man, with borderline psychopathy and a superiority complex. Any power you had, is now mine.” Nikita says, casually extending and retracting her claws.
“How? The condom didn’t break.” He says, in fearful denial.
“The cigarette. Secondary epithelial transfer.” Nikita explains, before noting his confusion and clarifying, “Your spit on the cigarette from when you lit it for me.”
“You-you need me.” He stammers, realising the danger he is in. He fumbles in the bag and drops it, showing a revolver in his hand. He snaps the gun up and squeezes off its full load at her.
The gun booms in the tight confines of the container, leaving his ears ringing. Nikita looks at him quizzically, notably uninjured, “You seem to have a habit of blowing your load quickly. What was the best you thought would happen?”
“How are you that fast? My research...” his voice tails off.
“Your research didn’t tell you about my reflexes, huh?” Nikita says, sweetly. Her expression hardens and she continues, “Bet it didn’t tell you about this either.”
As soon as the words leave her lips, she flies at him, her entire three hundred pound body mass transformed into locusts. He is dead, before the butt plug that once called her home, hits the ground. “Time to bulk up. I think it will be a long few days. I just hope I have long enough before my time runs out.”
He pads barefoot and naked across the room to his prisoner and silently walks around her limply hanging form.
Nikita cannot hear him but feels him near to her and hangs shivering with pain, giving no sign that she knows he is there. All she can so is give a muffled voice to her pain.
He pulls back his hand taking aim at her rump. He lets fly stopping at the last minute instead tracing the outline of her buttocks with a gentle finger tip.
Nikita jumps at his touch and struggles to pull away, wrenching her left shoulder in the process, triggering a new wave of pain and cries of despair.
Slowly, the cable is lowered and she can place her feet in the ground and take the strain off of her shoulders.
Once all tension is off of the cable and her bound wrists rest in the small of her back, he disconnects the cable and picks her up.
Nikita feels her skin against his and feels a sense of revulsion. “It must have been like this for Dani with Arno.” She thinks, as she is sat on the edge of the bed.
“We are going to talk and any lip from you will be dealt with harshly. Do you understand?” He asks, holding her steady. When she nods weakly, he reaches up and pulls off the face mask and snatches the sponge from her mouth.
He takes a sharp intake of breath seeing her face, eyes bloodshot and raw from tears, face flush with sweat. However most surprising is the half glazed look and refusal to look him in the eye.
He roughly grips her chin and forces her to look at him, “Insolence will not be tolerated.” He says, calmly. “You are responsible for your treatment, behave and you get treated well. However, any transgression, no matter how small will be punished. Do you understand?”
Nikita nods with a fearful look in her eyes. Thinking to herself, “If you cannot win with strength, make them lose to your weakness.”
He fixes her with a cold stare, commanding her, “Say it.”
Nikita opens her mouth hesitantly and after a moment, weakly says, “I understand.”
“Good.” He says with a sinister look in his eyes, “Now I have punished you for your mockery. Do you think you have been punished enough?” He speaks with an innocent tone, but his body language is that of a predator.
She casts her gaze down and chooses her words carefully, “That is not for me to decide.”
He smiles, apparently satisfied with her answer. “I think you have been punished enough.”
She visibly relaxes at the sound of this and with a tear in her eye softly whispers, “Thank you.”
“You are welcome. However, a thank you is just words. Actions underline them.” He says, setting up his trap.
“What would you have me do?” Nikita asks, suspecting what is brewing.
“I think you need to do something for me.” He says, with a hint of cruelty.
Nikita nods, unable to meet his gaze. In a faraway voice she speaks softly, “I guess that is fair.” Whilst thinking, “Gotcha, if you give me your bodily fluids, I will be able to resist the effects of Orichalcum as you do. Didn’t think it would be this quick though.”
He lifts her from the bed, placing her on her knees on the floor at its foot. Once he is sure she is stable, he fetches his bag and pulls out a metal ring over two inches wide with straps either side.
“Open your mouth,” He asks, his voice husky and his member awake.
Tentatively, she parts her lips, licking them involuntarily. He watches closely and his heart begins to thump in his chest. He slips the ring into her mouth twisting it to force her jaw wide. “Sorry Miss, this is a precaution in case you are a nibbler.”
Nikita doesn’t resist, when he moves her hair out of the way and buckles the straps tightly. “Soon.” She thinks, hardening her heart, while he ties back her hair into a ponytail.
He shuffles to the edge of the bed until his quivering manhood is a hair away from her mouth. Looking down at her he asks, “Do you want to do this?”
She looks up at him with sad doe eyes and nods, then turn back to his manhood and edging forward.
“Very well.” He says, with a smile, “Let me help you.” He whispers, taking himself in his hand and guiding it towards her waiting mouth. He pauses for a moment and smiles cruelly down at her, before slipping a condom down his shaft. “I know about your party trick.”
It takes all of Nikita’s will power not to cry out in frustration, when he enters her mouth and slams into the back of her throat.
Nikita kneels by the bed, pressing her face into the bed crying and screaming while he cleans himself off in the toilet.
Some moments later, he returns and sits on the bed. Languidly, he removes the ring gag, whilst still bathing in the afterglow of his orgasm. “Thank you very much Miss. I must admit that my research didn’t tell me that you could do that with your tongue.” He sneers, mockingly.
When she doesn’t respond, he pulls her onto the bed, forcing her to lie facing away from him. He moves in close, pulling her to him, pressing her back to his chest and forcing her hands near to his now flaccid member. He whispers in her ear, “Don’t pretend you don’t want this. Since whatever happened between you and Ivy, you have been punishing yourself. Must be nice to have someone do it for you?”
He waits for a moment, kneading her breasts before hissing in her ear again, “I asked you a question.”
Nikita mumbles softly, unable to give her full voice to the truth, “I have been punishing myself. I can’t forgive myself for what I did to her.”
He shifts his position tucking in closer to her, “What did you do? I want details and if you lie, I will know.” He licks her neck, and nibbles her earlobes.
“Fuck it. Bottling it up isn’t helping. Maybe a confession will be good for the soul. Besides, giving him something, Mike make him relax and get careless.” Nikita thinks, keeping her body language limp and lifeless. She takes a deep breath and confesses, “I took her to the coast and turned her into a shoal of fish, then fed her to a flock of gulls, so she would feel each death.”
The smile is chased from his lips, faster with each word he hears until she finishes, “Jesus. That is dark. I can see why you have been acting like you are out to punish yourself.”
Nikita’s heart sinks, feeling his manhood harden against her back. Knowing he will force himself on her again. She speaks weakly, too soft for him to hear.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” He says, sleepily.
Nikita repeats herself, “I can feel you getting ready back there. If I’m sucking you off again, please may I have a cigarette to take the taste of the last condom away before we start?”
He snorts, derisively, “Sure. Lucky for you, I have enough to get rid of the taste for nineteen more times.” He rolls back across the bed and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lights one, before holding it to her lips. “You are going to need something for the taste of the next one. I am thinking of pulling out the butt plug and then unleashing my weapon of ass destruction before finishing in your mouth.”
She leans forward and takes a deep lungful of smoke and holds it for a moment, savouring the sensation from the tobacco and the trace of his saliva on the cigarette butt. “Idiot.” She thinks, with a dark smile on her lips.
Smiling she exhales and thinks, “I can sense lifepulses again and I know who this prick is.” She takes another drag and realises, “I can sense him now too and I have the part of him that allows him to handle Orichalcum.” She gives no sign as she becomes accustomed to her power once again.
For a brief moment, she extends her lion’s fangs and retracts them, unseen by him. “Game on.” She thinks, taking another drag on the cigarette.
“Take your time, there is no rush.” He says mockingly, whilst he reaches over her a squeezes her left breast with a clammy hand.
He rises from the bed and stretches, making a show of his freedom, before his captor. Then he stubs out the cigarette and dumps the end of it in the bin by the sink.
He turns with a grin to face Nikita and his smile is replaced with a look of confusion, seeing his prisoner standing unfettered before him.
“That’s not possible.” He mumbles, confused, reaching for his bag. “I need to restraint you better.”
“Not happening, Armil.” Nikita says, calmly.
“Do not forget your place. I am in charge and you will submit to my authority.” He says, coldly.
“What authority? You’re nothing. You’re nobody. You are a morally weak, pathetic shell of a man, with borderline psychopathy and a superiority complex. Any power you had, is now mine.” Nikita says, casually extending and retracting her claws.
“How? The condom didn’t break.” He says, in fearful denial.
“The cigarette. Secondary epithelial transfer.” Nikita explains, before noting his confusion and clarifying, “Your spit on the cigarette from when you lit it for me.”
“You-you need me.” He stammers, realising the danger he is in. He fumbles in the bag and drops it, showing a revolver in his hand. He snaps the gun up and squeezes off its full load at her.
The gun booms in the tight confines of the container, leaving his ears ringing. Nikita looks at him quizzically, notably uninjured, “You seem to have a habit of blowing your load quickly. What was the best you thought would happen?”
“How are you that fast? My research...” his voice tails off.
“Your research didn’t tell you about my reflexes, huh?” Nikita says, sweetly. Her expression hardens and she continues, “Bet it didn’t tell you about this either.”
As soon as the words leave her lips, she flies at him, her entire three hundred pound body mass transformed into locusts. He is dead, before the butt plug that once called her home, hits the ground. “Time to bulk up. I think it will be a long few days. I just hope I have long enough before my time runs out.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
At the beginning it was darkness. At the end it was light. Amril got what he deserved and more. The way he abused and mocked and tortured Nikita was inhumane. This was such a gripping chapter. Honestly I thought Nikita was doomed. There are several lines I really like: "Weapon of ass distruction" - one letter changed only and a complete different meaning. And that one: “You seem to have a habit of blowing your load quickly"
Truly another fantastic chapter - and I am sure the ride has just begun [mention]wolfman[/mention]
Truly another fantastic chapter - and I am sure the ride has just begun [mention]wolfman[/mention]
Happy to read that Nikita has put things right. A fascinating chapter, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. Well done.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Well what can I say [mention]wolfman[/mention] ive finally climbed down if the roller coaster ride that was catching up with this epic tale. Now all I need if a stiff drink and time to recover before you post more
This was a rough one to write, but I am happy with how it turned out. Nikita is a tough customer and will always do whatever she has to. No matter how dark.Caesar73 wrote: ↑1 year ago At the beginning it was darkness. At the end it was light. Amril got what he deserved and more. The way he abused and mocked and tortured Nikita was inhumane. This was such a gripping chapter. Honestly I thought Nikita was doomed. There are several lines I really like: "Weapon of ass distruction" - one letter changed only and a complete different meaning. And that one: “You seem to have a habit of blowing your load quickly"
Truly another fantastic chapter - and I am sure the ride has just begun @wolfman
Given the darkness, i needed a little humour and couldn't resist using the weapon of ass destruction
I am glad you enjoyed it, there will be more darkness to come, but also light.
I hope you have a good scotch on standby, more is coming.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
“We are in his container, Your Grace. There is no sign of him or Miss Green.” A man in black fatigues, carrying a carbine says into his phone.
“Iosef, are there any indications of where they are?” High Priestess Angela asks, with a pit of dread in her stomach.
“No Your Grace. Every surface has been scrubbed clean. No prints, no blood, no fluids, nothing. It is almost like they were never here.” Iosef says, shaking his head sub-consciously.
“I would like you are your people to be careful in case he has set up a nasty surprise for us.” She says, with genuine concern.
“We have done a full sweep and all we have found is a few cigarette ends.” He sighs, “Intelligence indicates that Miss Green smokes. That could be a sign she was here.”
“See if you can get them tested, at least we would know if she was there.” Angela says, resignedly, “The problem is where is she now?”
Al-Hazred Luxury Resort, - The Eye of the the Sahara
Angela adjusts her simple white robes and Orichalcum diadem and approaches the large wooden doors, she enters formally twice a week. At a hair over six feet tall, with flowing blonde hair in her wake, she has the confidence of a model and the poise of a movie star. However, her radiance shines with the power of her faith, not her physical beauty.
She nods to the guards either side of the door in their Orichalcum trimmed black uniforms and the open the doors for her to cross the threshold.
The High Priestess enters with her head bowed and hands in supplication, advancing to the centre of the room and then descending to her knees.
King Halpron rises to his feet and bids the High Priestess join him on the balcony. “You serve the realm as I do. You never need to kneel in my presence, Your Grace.” He says, gently, but firmly.
He is dressed in a tailored dark grey suit with a salmon coloured shirt and open collar. To all intents and purposes he has the appearance of a body builder in a suit. Powerful muscles coil beneath his clothes as if woven from steel cables and draped in skin. His emerald green eyes, burn intensely with intelligence, presiding over a strong square jaw and a troubled brow.
The King carries himself with an air of quiet power. The kind that never needs to exert itself to make itself known. But here, that quiet power wraps around the high Priestess like a warm and comforting cloak.
Angela takes a seat opposite him and bows her head, “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Old habits die hard.”
The King looks out across the seemingly endless sands of the Sahara with more than a hint of sadness. “There is a lot to get used to.”
“How are you coping?” She asks, gently.
“It is still too raw. Father only passed a few days ago and everyone is expecting me to just get on with it.” He pauses, with a faraway look in his eyes, “I don’t know if I have what it takes to do what must be done.”
She reaches across and lays her hand on his, prompting a smile from the King. “Even though you are my little sister, you have always been the strong one. You have never let me down and have always been there for me.”
Even though he smiles at her, she cannot meet his gaze, “I have failed you. The man I sent to invite Nikita Green to a discussion appears to have dragged her in, in chains and now there is no trace of them.”
“Gods no. Who did you send?” He asks, visibly shaken.
“Armil. He tried to double the price and threatened to send her back in pieces, then provide her family with false information about us.” She confesses, earnestly. “I am more fearful of what he has done to her. He had her chained up pretty brutally. I ordered him to remove some of the restraints and he practically laughed at me.”
“I served in our military with him. The man is an animal.” The kind says, dismayed.
“He gets results and I thought time was of the essence.” She apologises.
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and squeezes her hand, “You did what you thought was right and I can never blame you for that.” He gives her a wink, “So where does that leave us?”
“We have no idea where they are or what their plans are.” Angela says, sadly, “Our reserves of Orichalcum are beginning to dwindle. We need the essence from her blood, to replenish our stocks.”
“How bad is it?” He asks, fearing the worst.
“We have enough for a month maybe two. Then our defences will start to fail.” She says, “We can supplement with conventional materials, but...” She let’s the point hang in the air.
“But conventional weapons are not as effective on the Others, as Orichalcum.” He finishes her sentence with a tone of finality.
Angela pours two glasses of red wine and returns to the table, taking her seat with an air of defeat.
“We need to set up a plan for an evacuation.” The King says, never expecting to have to utter those words.
“No Hal. We can’t. There is still a chance. We could approach Nikita’s family. See if they can help.” The High Priestess begs.
“We have no idea what Armil did, or what he said to her or them for that matter. If we turn up unannounced they will laugh us out of their homes, at best. At worst, they will place us in shallow graves.” He says, wearily.
“I would hope for better, but I fear you may be right.” She says, bitterly, “There must be another way.”
“The only other option we have is to announce our existence to the world and plead for support.” He says, grimly, “How did we come to this?” he asks, with his eyes to the sky.
“Dad was too proud to ask for help and never admitted failure. He might have been short sighted in many ways, but the people loved him.” She says, gently, “You have the people behind you too. They would follow you to hell if you asked.”
He scoffs, “Why would they? I have done nothing of worth since taking office.”
“You served with distinction in the military, leading the defence of our nation. You faced the hardest of battles and were victorious. You are the new King. You are a symbol of hope. That is what we need now.” Angela says, taking a sip from her wine.
“What we need is Orichalcum. Hope is nothing without the means of fulfilment.” He says, with a sense of resignation.
The clink of glass reverberates like a gunshot, in the quiet room. The King and High Priestess turn sharply to gaze at the stranger in the secure room.
The King’s face turns to sadness, recognising the interloper, “I was afraid you would come.”
Nikita sets down the bottle and picks up a glass of wine. “You did arrange for me to be kidnapped, by a mentally-unstable, sexual predator. If you’d done your research, you would know I would take offense at that.” Her body language is loose, almost relaxed. She dominates the space, in a black tailored trouser suit, red silk blouse, hair tied back in a ponytail and what can only be described as killer heels.
Angela shakes her head and presses her hands together in front of her, “Please, we asked him to approach you and invite you here.”
“Your actual words from your original instructions were, bring her here by any means necessary.” Nikita says calmly. She takes a sip of the wine and nods in appreciation, “Very nice.” She says, softly.
“We never intended for you to be treated badly. I am so sorry for whatever he did to you.” The King says, solemnly, “The ultimate responsibility lies with me. I beg you to spare my sister and I will accept any retribution you wish to deliver.”
“No, Your Majesty. The people need you.” Angela says, heart broken.
“The people need your order, Your Grace. Your skills and strength will carry them through.” He assures her.
Nikita watches slightly amused and touched by the exchange and takes another sip of wine. “If you had sent Armil to pick up milk, he would have left a trail of bodies in his wake. You didn’t know exactly what he would do, but you can’t have been under any illusions, as to how he would approach me.”
Angela hangs her head in shame, “We are desperate and he always gets results.”
Nikita slowly begins to approach the table and simply says, “Got.”
The King and High Priestess exchange a look of confusion, before he says, “I don’t follow.”
“Past tense. He got results.” She comes to a halt a few paces from the table and takes another sip of wine, “He will work for you no more.”
“How did he die?” The King asks, feeling her predatory aura come off of her in waves.
“Badly.” She responds, taking a seat at the table and setting down her wine. She lets out a long slow breath and relaxes, shutting off the pheromones she had been emitting, “At this stage, I am not here for revenge, or retribution.”
“Why are you here?” The King asks, ignoring the break in protocol, he reaches across the table and squeezes his sister hand.
Nikita pauses for a moment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, “May I?” She asks, prompting a nod from the King.
She lights a cigarette and leaves the pack and lighter in the table, “Armil believed that he worked for the Orichalcum Dawn, the terrestrial branch of the nation of Atlantis. He also believed that you need my blood for eternal youth and to make a metal that shouldn’t exist.” she pauses for a moment, “I wanted to find out the truth.”
“Iosef, are there any indications of where they are?” High Priestess Angela asks, with a pit of dread in her stomach.
“No Your Grace. Every surface has been scrubbed clean. No prints, no blood, no fluids, nothing. It is almost like they were never here.” Iosef says, shaking his head sub-consciously.
“I would like you are your people to be careful in case he has set up a nasty surprise for us.” She says, with genuine concern.
“We have done a full sweep and all we have found is a few cigarette ends.” He sighs, “Intelligence indicates that Miss Green smokes. That could be a sign she was here.”
“See if you can get them tested, at least we would know if she was there.” Angela says, resignedly, “The problem is where is she now?”
Al-Hazred Luxury Resort, - The Eye of the the Sahara
Angela adjusts her simple white robes and Orichalcum diadem and approaches the large wooden doors, she enters formally twice a week. At a hair over six feet tall, with flowing blonde hair in her wake, she has the confidence of a model and the poise of a movie star. However, her radiance shines with the power of her faith, not her physical beauty.
She nods to the guards either side of the door in their Orichalcum trimmed black uniforms and the open the doors for her to cross the threshold.
The High Priestess enters with her head bowed and hands in supplication, advancing to the centre of the room and then descending to her knees.
King Halpron rises to his feet and bids the High Priestess join him on the balcony. “You serve the realm as I do. You never need to kneel in my presence, Your Grace.” He says, gently, but firmly.
He is dressed in a tailored dark grey suit with a salmon coloured shirt and open collar. To all intents and purposes he has the appearance of a body builder in a suit. Powerful muscles coil beneath his clothes as if woven from steel cables and draped in skin. His emerald green eyes, burn intensely with intelligence, presiding over a strong square jaw and a troubled brow.
The King carries himself with an air of quiet power. The kind that never needs to exert itself to make itself known. But here, that quiet power wraps around the high Priestess like a warm and comforting cloak.
Angela takes a seat opposite him and bows her head, “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Old habits die hard.”
The King looks out across the seemingly endless sands of the Sahara with more than a hint of sadness. “There is a lot to get used to.”
“How are you coping?” She asks, gently.
“It is still too raw. Father only passed a few days ago and everyone is expecting me to just get on with it.” He pauses, with a faraway look in his eyes, “I don’t know if I have what it takes to do what must be done.”
She reaches across and lays her hand on his, prompting a smile from the King. “Even though you are my little sister, you have always been the strong one. You have never let me down and have always been there for me.”
Even though he smiles at her, she cannot meet his gaze, “I have failed you. The man I sent to invite Nikita Green to a discussion appears to have dragged her in, in chains and now there is no trace of them.”
“Gods no. Who did you send?” He asks, visibly shaken.
“Armil. He tried to double the price and threatened to send her back in pieces, then provide her family with false information about us.” She confesses, earnestly. “I am more fearful of what he has done to her. He had her chained up pretty brutally. I ordered him to remove some of the restraints and he practically laughed at me.”
“I served in our military with him. The man is an animal.” The kind says, dismayed.
“He gets results and I thought time was of the essence.” She apologises.
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and squeezes her hand, “You did what you thought was right and I can never blame you for that.” He gives her a wink, “So where does that leave us?”
“We have no idea where they are or what their plans are.” Angela says, sadly, “Our reserves of Orichalcum are beginning to dwindle. We need the essence from her blood, to replenish our stocks.”
“How bad is it?” He asks, fearing the worst.
“We have enough for a month maybe two. Then our defences will start to fail.” She says, “We can supplement with conventional materials, but...” She let’s the point hang in the air.
“But conventional weapons are not as effective on the Others, as Orichalcum.” He finishes her sentence with a tone of finality.
Angela pours two glasses of red wine and returns to the table, taking her seat with an air of defeat.
“We need to set up a plan for an evacuation.” The King says, never expecting to have to utter those words.
“No Hal. We can’t. There is still a chance. We could approach Nikita’s family. See if they can help.” The High Priestess begs.
“We have no idea what Armil did, or what he said to her or them for that matter. If we turn up unannounced they will laugh us out of their homes, at best. At worst, they will place us in shallow graves.” He says, wearily.
“I would hope for better, but I fear you may be right.” She says, bitterly, “There must be another way.”
“The only other option we have is to announce our existence to the world and plead for support.” He says, grimly, “How did we come to this?” he asks, with his eyes to the sky.
“Dad was too proud to ask for help and never admitted failure. He might have been short sighted in many ways, but the people loved him.” She says, gently, “You have the people behind you too. They would follow you to hell if you asked.”
He scoffs, “Why would they? I have done nothing of worth since taking office.”
“You served with distinction in the military, leading the defence of our nation. You faced the hardest of battles and were victorious. You are the new King. You are a symbol of hope. That is what we need now.” Angela says, taking a sip from her wine.
“What we need is Orichalcum. Hope is nothing without the means of fulfilment.” He says, with a sense of resignation.
The clink of glass reverberates like a gunshot, in the quiet room. The King and High Priestess turn sharply to gaze at the stranger in the secure room.
The King’s face turns to sadness, recognising the interloper, “I was afraid you would come.”
Nikita sets down the bottle and picks up a glass of wine. “You did arrange for me to be kidnapped, by a mentally-unstable, sexual predator. If you’d done your research, you would know I would take offense at that.” Her body language is loose, almost relaxed. She dominates the space, in a black tailored trouser suit, red silk blouse, hair tied back in a ponytail and what can only be described as killer heels.
Angela shakes her head and presses her hands together in front of her, “Please, we asked him to approach you and invite you here.”
“Your actual words from your original instructions were, bring her here by any means necessary.” Nikita says calmly. She takes a sip of the wine and nods in appreciation, “Very nice.” She says, softly.
“We never intended for you to be treated badly. I am so sorry for whatever he did to you.” The King says, solemnly, “The ultimate responsibility lies with me. I beg you to spare my sister and I will accept any retribution you wish to deliver.”
“No, Your Majesty. The people need you.” Angela says, heart broken.
“The people need your order, Your Grace. Your skills and strength will carry them through.” He assures her.
Nikita watches slightly amused and touched by the exchange and takes another sip of wine. “If you had sent Armil to pick up milk, he would have left a trail of bodies in his wake. You didn’t know exactly what he would do, but you can’t have been under any illusions, as to how he would approach me.”
Angela hangs her head in shame, “We are desperate and he always gets results.”
Nikita slowly begins to approach the table and simply says, “Got.”
The King and High Priestess exchange a look of confusion, before he says, “I don’t follow.”
“Past tense. He got results.” She comes to a halt a few paces from the table and takes another sip of wine, “He will work for you no more.”
“How did he die?” The King asks, feeling her predatory aura come off of her in waves.
“Badly.” She responds, taking a seat at the table and setting down her wine. She lets out a long slow breath and relaxes, shutting off the pheromones she had been emitting, “At this stage, I am not here for revenge, or retribution.”
“Why are you here?” The King asks, ignoring the break in protocol, he reaches across the table and squeezes his sister hand.
Nikita pauses for a moment, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, “May I?” She asks, prompting a nod from the King.
She lights a cigarette and leaves the pack and lighter in the table, “Armil believed that he worked for the Orichalcum Dawn, the terrestrial branch of the nation of Atlantis. He also believed that you need my blood for eternal youth and to make a metal that shouldn’t exist.” she pauses for a moment, “I wanted to find out the truth.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
This intriguing chapter sheds some light what is going on, why Nikita was abducted in the first place. That she wants answers is only to understandable.
What [mention]Caesar73[/mention] says is true. But I think that 'intriguing' only begins to describe this fascinating twist that you have given us, [mention]wolfman[/mention]. To me, at least, this development is stunning and I am besides myself with eagerness to see where you go with this thread.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Thank you [mention]Caesar73[/mention] and [mention]GreyLord[/mention] for your patronage.
Answers are coming and maybe a few more complications
Answers are coming and maybe a few more complications
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
“I want to know everything.” Nikita says, her tone firm but warm.
King Halpron takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts, before beginning, “The Orichalcum Dawn is indeed the terrestrial arm, of our intelligence services and is responsible for gathering intelligence and resources to further out interests at home and abroad.”
Nikita watches him closely as he speaks, monitoring his heart rate and perspiration looking for signs of discomfort, thinking, “If only things were different. If he weren’t a King and I wasn’t on borrowed time then maybe we could make a happy life together.” She muses, before berating herself for her unprofessionalism.
“I am King Halpron. I was crowned only a few days ago, after my father passed on. I am the ruler of Atlantis, its people’s and its armies.” He extends a hand to his sister, “This is my sister, High Priestess Angela of the Phlogiston Order.”
Nikita rubs the base of her neck and takes another sip of wine, seeing no signs of discomfort which could indicate deception.
“Atlantis was created in the golden age or humans and Annunaki. Both races lived in harmony and peace for generations. In some cases the bloodlines crossed and the result of these unions and their descendants, like yourself, possess special abilities. Indeed, even those who are not gifted with special abilities are blessed with greater strength than our earth born brethren.” Angela explains, with a faraway smile gracing her lips, “They unlocked the secrets of the universe, fission, dimensional travel and the science you know as Alchemy.”
“Last I heard, Alchemy wasn’t a science in the traditional sense.” Nikita says, whilst thinking, “Another believer. I am still not sure if they are crazy or not.”
Angela beams a smile and simply shrugs, “Hydrodynamics is nothing without water. Alchemy is nothing without the philosophers stone. With the compound you know as PCS, philosophers stones may be made and the process becomes possible.”
“So you do want the PCS from my blood.” Nikita says, in a matter of fact tone.
“Yes.” The King says, rubbing the back of his neck, “Our supplies are low and we need Orichalcum which can only be made through Alchemical processes.”
“Why do you need Orichalcum? I get that it can block powers of those like me. But from what I over heard, it seems more important than that.” Nikita says, thinking aloud.
“The ancient Atlanteans were able to travel between dimensions and that is what they did.” Angela says, nervously looking to her brother, seeking support in his gentle smile before continuing, “The Annunaki travelled and their bloodlines merged with others. However some of the resulting inhuman Annunakin, are blood thirsty beasts. Always hungry, always breeding and they sought to consume all they surveyed. Our ancestors tried to treat their hunger, but they overwhelmed our scientists and began pouring through the portal. Daemos was soon overrun and the once great city was destroyed in a bid to control their numbers. We can beat them back and suppress their numbers, but they just keep coming.”
“Our ancestors decided to move Atlantis into a dimensional pocket to act as a buffer between those realms and the Earth.” Halpron explains, “Orichalcum weapons are essential in our defences and we need it to protect the world. You are right indeed, Orichalcum does inhibit the abilities of most Annunakin although some like Armil are immune to its effects.”
Nikita sits quietly for a moment, before draining her glass, then slowly and deliberately rising to her feet to fetch the bottle. The Regal brother and sister watch her return to her seat and refill her glass then set the bottle down with gentle precision.
“As delusions go, this is a pretty good one. Tough to disprove. But everything about them indicates that they are at peace with what they are saying. So either they are brainwashed or telling the truth.” Nikita thinks, before asking, “Where are the Annunaki now? Are they still in Atlantis?”
“No. When the tide couldn’t be turned, they set out to scour other dimensions for aid in fighting the Annunakin invaders.” King Halpron confirms, solemnly.
She takes another large sip of wine and shakes her head, “Seriously. You expect me to believe that.”
The King smiles benevolently at her nodding, “I understand that it is a lot to take on board. However, I would say that all this time we have been speaking, my sister and I have not been speaking English or any other terrestrial language. If you can grt your head around that, creatures from other dimensions isnt too much of a stretch.”
Nikita thinks for a moment, replaying their conversation and frowns in comprehension, “That is a good point. How can I understand you?”
“We use Soul speech and speak to the core of your being. This is an ancient tongue as old as time.” Angela confirms with warm smile.
“OK let’s say, I accept that. How can you prove any of the other stuff you are claiming?” Nikita says sceptically.
After a moment of awkward silence, Halpron asks, “Would you like to see Atlantis?”
Halplron and Nikita stride through the corridors of the large opulently decorated desert Palace. Gold and silver adorn the walls in shimmering patterns. Flowers, earthly and not, are carved along the walls and inlaid with precious metals and gems.
Nikita falls into step behind the King, appraising him as they walk, “He does have the bearing of a military man and even without my abilities, I can sense a sadness to him. Maybe some of what he has said is true. Shame Armil didn’t know the truth. Would have saved a lot of trouble.” She sighs, noting the decor, “Whatever the truth is, there is real money here.”
The King opens a door and leads them down a long spiral staircase. The steps are carved from sandstone and the rail is solid gold. The air is filled with brightly coloured moths which dance between the light reflecting surfaces of the space.
A few minutes later, they reach the bottom and stand before a solid steel door, inlaid with Orichalcum. Nikita checks her senses and thinks to herself, “We have to be at least a hundred metres below ground. Where the hell are we going?” She frowns slightly, “There is nothing on the other side of the door. It’s a void.”
The King opens the door and turns his back on the darkness, “It can feel strange the first time you cross over. That is natural. Before you step through, try to relax. You can’t see it, but there is something solid the other side.”
She watches, stunned as he steps back into the void and even his lifepulse vanishes.
Nikita takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, allowing her body to relax. The without hesitation steps through into the unknown.
After leaving a small room, without windows, the King escorts Nikita into the open air and beyond a contingent of soldiers in dress uniform.
Nikita takes a deep breath of salty sea air, with the scent of olive groves and corn, maize and wheat carried on the breeze. She stands at the apex of a hill, at the top of a stone staircase, behind her stands a pristine, Greek style temple.
Her mouth hangs open at the spectacle before her. Rolling hills surrounded her, flowing down to the sea. Beyond the sea another land lays with a low slung mountain range limned in snow, towering over several large dull coloured encampments. However, dominating the skyline is a single massive mountain in the far distance.
The landscape here is scattered with buildings, both standing tall and carved into the rocks of the land. Above everything is a cavalcade of aerial vehicles, like silver darts on ion winds.
So caught up with the vista before her, she doesn’t register the gaggle of onlookers surrounding herself and the King.
“Breath-taking isn’t it.” Halpron says, compassionately, “Even now, it still gets me too.”
“I can see why.” Nikita says, extending her senses and raising an eyebrow, “My senses reach much farther than back home. I can sense a lot of people and some of the animals here, I have never sensed before.”
She turns to face the King and tilts her head with a crooked smile, “OK. Colour me impressed, as far as I can tell it is not a trick. Can we take a look around?”
“Of course. By air or by land?” Halpron offers, warmly.
Nikita weighs the options for a moment and simply says, “By land, I think.”
The King turns to the crowd and smiles, “Good people, alas we must away. Thank you for your wonderful welcome, may the gods be with you.”
A small cheer goes up from the crowd as the King leads Nikita through it, laying his hands on those they pass.
She notes their clothing, a mix of loose fitting robes and tunics, with a few in more modern fashions. All simple designs, but exquisitely well made, with high quality fabrics and fine stitching.
Eventually, they clear the crowd and emerge from the terrace onto a street of pristine white stone. In contrast to the wild variety of colours worn by those around them by the throngs of people drawn by news of the King in their midst.
Nikita smiles looking up at the hummingbirds swooping and hovering overhead. “This place is very beautiful and everything is so intricately designed. I wonder if it is all like this.”
A silver vehicle awaits them at the kerb, sleek lines, no corners, all curves. It hovers a few inches off of the ground with a low hum, looking for all the world like a wingless dragonfly.
Halpron opens the rear door for the vehicle and beckons Nikita to enter. “Thank you, your Highness.” She says entering the cool interior of the vehicle and sliding over. The King joins her and closes the door, shutting out some of the noise of the street.
“Is it always so busy?” Nikita asks, feeling the lifepulses of those surrounding the car.
“I was only crowned a few days ago and the people are still getting used to it.” He pauses, “As am I.”
For the first time since she revealed herself, she senses disquiet and unease in the King. She watches him closely, while he asks the driver of the vehicle to do a circuit of the city.
When he settles back in his seat, Nikita relaxes and gazes out of the window, “Can you tell me about Atlantis?”
The King settled in his seat further and smiles gently, “Well, er where to begin?” He pauses, “Atlantis is spread over four islands, a central island and three other islands which form concentric rings around it.”
As he speaks, Nikita takes in the array of stalls, shops and the smells of the city. A hint of spice and herb, mixed with the sea.
“The outermost ring is called Evanos it is where we grow our crops and gather our fish for the city. This is our larder. The next circle is Kaemos, where we are now.” He smiles, “This is the heart of our nation, the seat of government and where our populace lives and trades. Here our sciences and alchemy flourishes with dedicated colleges for all of the sciences and the arts....”
She notes his change in tone, when talking of Kaemos and its many features, showing his pride and love for it.
“Then the inner circle, Garnos. This is the home of our military. Our sword and shield against the interlopers.” He pauses, showing his discomfort, “Then, there is Daemos.”
Nikita feels the change in the atmosphere as soon as the words tumble from his lips. She feels him tense and sees his adrenaline start to flow as it reliving the memory of some distant trauma.
“It was a seat of learning. Where human and Annunaki worked in unison to unlock the secrets of multiple dimensional space, opening us to finding the secrets of creation and all its wonders. The portals were a blessing, until they became a curse. Annunakin and other denizens spilled forth razing the island. Where once it was beauteous, now it is a ruin, ruled by other worldly creatures that seek to destroy all other life.”
He sits quietly gathering his thoughts for a the longest time before he speaks, “Thousands lost their lives, before we contained them on the island. Now Garnos is a ring of steel around it, holding them at bay.”
Nikita watches the furrows on his brow as he talks. “He is a man conflicted. I can buy Atlantis being real, this is too elaborate to be a ruse. I am not sure about him though. He is a soldier but I don’t know if he is a King.” She thinks, before asking, “Why not conduct an assault on Daemos? Purge the Annunakin and reclaim it.”
“The waters around it are mined to prevent Annunakin swimming to Garnos. They gather in numbers under the central mountain and along its lower slopes, surging as a horde every week or so, when the numbers reach critical mass. Besides, however many we eliminate, more will spew from the portal.” The King, sighs looking weary, “We have enough resources to hold them and halt their advance, but not enough to eliminate them.“
“Heavy bombing from the air.” Nikita asks, gently.
“We’ve tried and as soon as our aircraft approach, everything on the island goes to ground.” He says, grimly.
They ride on in awkward silence, through the throngs of people. Endless winding streets, lined with wondrous carvings and sculptures and brightly coloured stalls, hawking all manner of wares.
“This place sure is something.” Nikita says, with more than a hint of admiration. “It is so beautiful. So vibrant.”
The King looks away from her, to stare out of the tilted window wordlessly.
“He looks tense. Something’s off.” Nikita observes.
“Over five million souls. All looking to their King to protect them and be just and true in his rule.” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues, “Truth be told, we are running low on Orichalcum and without it, the Annunakin will not be contained for long. If that happened, then all this goes away.” He has a faraway look in his eyes and whispers under his breath, “Even if we do get it, I have no idea what I am doing. I am soldier, not a ruler. I am at home in the field, this is not me.”
He stops himself and turns to look at Nikita, “Sorry, I don’t mean to unload, but you are really easy to talk to.”
Nikita hesitates for a moment, before placing a gentle hand on his arm. Softly, she speaks, “With the PCS in my blood you will be able to replenish your stocks, Your Highness.” She pauses for a moment, casting her gaze to her feet, “I do what I do but there is no great secret or insight to anything I do. I make it up as I go along and sometimes it causes me problems. Big problems.”
“What kind of problems?” Halpron asks, seeking any kind of guidance.
“I have a daughter, long story, but she will grow up not knowing who I am. I killed someone who betrayed my family and it haunts me and I leap into harm’s way every chance I get so I don’t have to think about it.” Nikita confesses, “I get where you are coming from, swinging from one decision to the next hoping for the best.”
“How do you make sure the choices you make are right?” Halpron asks, turning back to face her.
“Making the choice is the easy part. Making peace with it, that's the hard part. Sometimes it is not clear what to do for the best, so it is better to just do something. If it is wrong you can fix it as best you can and then do something else. But it is always better to at least try to do something.” Nikita says, wearily.
“Does that work for you?” Halpron says, mulling over her words.
“Sometimes it works out. I went off grid a couple of days ago and since then, I have been kidnapped, assaulted, had to kill a guy and ended up in Atlantis in a flying car with the nation’s King, being told that my blood can save the city.” Nikita says, with a snort, “That is not how normal people end up.”
“From what I have seen you are anything but normal.” Halpron says, without irony, “You are nothing like your profile and you are full of surprises.”
“Yeah, I guess that is why I am going to let you take my blood.” Nikita says, voicing the decision as she makes it.
“Are you sure?” The King asks, surprised.
“Yeah, this all is the right level of nuts to be true, because it all feels real and you couldn’t make it up. I see what is at stake here and I am on board.” Nikita says, with a smile. “I am ready when you are.”
King Halpron takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts, before beginning, “The Orichalcum Dawn is indeed the terrestrial arm, of our intelligence services and is responsible for gathering intelligence and resources to further out interests at home and abroad.”
Nikita watches him closely as he speaks, monitoring his heart rate and perspiration looking for signs of discomfort, thinking, “If only things were different. If he weren’t a King and I wasn’t on borrowed time then maybe we could make a happy life together.” She muses, before berating herself for her unprofessionalism.
“I am King Halpron. I was crowned only a few days ago, after my father passed on. I am the ruler of Atlantis, its people’s and its armies.” He extends a hand to his sister, “This is my sister, High Priestess Angela of the Phlogiston Order.”
Nikita rubs the base of her neck and takes another sip of wine, seeing no signs of discomfort which could indicate deception.
“Atlantis was created in the golden age or humans and Annunaki. Both races lived in harmony and peace for generations. In some cases the bloodlines crossed and the result of these unions and their descendants, like yourself, possess special abilities. Indeed, even those who are not gifted with special abilities are blessed with greater strength than our earth born brethren.” Angela explains, with a faraway smile gracing her lips, “They unlocked the secrets of the universe, fission, dimensional travel and the science you know as Alchemy.”
“Last I heard, Alchemy wasn’t a science in the traditional sense.” Nikita says, whilst thinking, “Another believer. I am still not sure if they are crazy or not.”
Angela beams a smile and simply shrugs, “Hydrodynamics is nothing without water. Alchemy is nothing without the philosophers stone. With the compound you know as PCS, philosophers stones may be made and the process becomes possible.”
“So you do want the PCS from my blood.” Nikita says, in a matter of fact tone.
“Yes.” The King says, rubbing the back of his neck, “Our supplies are low and we need Orichalcum which can only be made through Alchemical processes.”
“Why do you need Orichalcum? I get that it can block powers of those like me. But from what I over heard, it seems more important than that.” Nikita says, thinking aloud.
“The ancient Atlanteans were able to travel between dimensions and that is what they did.” Angela says, nervously looking to her brother, seeking support in his gentle smile before continuing, “The Annunaki travelled and their bloodlines merged with others. However some of the resulting inhuman Annunakin, are blood thirsty beasts. Always hungry, always breeding and they sought to consume all they surveyed. Our ancestors tried to treat their hunger, but they overwhelmed our scientists and began pouring through the portal. Daemos was soon overrun and the once great city was destroyed in a bid to control their numbers. We can beat them back and suppress their numbers, but they just keep coming.”
“Our ancestors decided to move Atlantis into a dimensional pocket to act as a buffer between those realms and the Earth.” Halpron explains, “Orichalcum weapons are essential in our defences and we need it to protect the world. You are right indeed, Orichalcum does inhibit the abilities of most Annunakin although some like Armil are immune to its effects.”
Nikita sits quietly for a moment, before draining her glass, then slowly and deliberately rising to her feet to fetch the bottle. The Regal brother and sister watch her return to her seat and refill her glass then set the bottle down with gentle precision.
“As delusions go, this is a pretty good one. Tough to disprove. But everything about them indicates that they are at peace with what they are saying. So either they are brainwashed or telling the truth.” Nikita thinks, before asking, “Where are the Annunaki now? Are they still in Atlantis?”
“No. When the tide couldn’t be turned, they set out to scour other dimensions for aid in fighting the Annunakin invaders.” King Halpron confirms, solemnly.
She takes another large sip of wine and shakes her head, “Seriously. You expect me to believe that.”
The King smiles benevolently at her nodding, “I understand that it is a lot to take on board. However, I would say that all this time we have been speaking, my sister and I have not been speaking English or any other terrestrial language. If you can grt your head around that, creatures from other dimensions isnt too much of a stretch.”
Nikita thinks for a moment, replaying their conversation and frowns in comprehension, “That is a good point. How can I understand you?”
“We use Soul speech and speak to the core of your being. This is an ancient tongue as old as time.” Angela confirms with warm smile.
“OK let’s say, I accept that. How can you prove any of the other stuff you are claiming?” Nikita says sceptically.
After a moment of awkward silence, Halpron asks, “Would you like to see Atlantis?”
Halplron and Nikita stride through the corridors of the large opulently decorated desert Palace. Gold and silver adorn the walls in shimmering patterns. Flowers, earthly and not, are carved along the walls and inlaid with precious metals and gems.
Nikita falls into step behind the King, appraising him as they walk, “He does have the bearing of a military man and even without my abilities, I can sense a sadness to him. Maybe some of what he has said is true. Shame Armil didn’t know the truth. Would have saved a lot of trouble.” She sighs, noting the decor, “Whatever the truth is, there is real money here.”
The King opens a door and leads them down a long spiral staircase. The steps are carved from sandstone and the rail is solid gold. The air is filled with brightly coloured moths which dance between the light reflecting surfaces of the space.
A few minutes later, they reach the bottom and stand before a solid steel door, inlaid with Orichalcum. Nikita checks her senses and thinks to herself, “We have to be at least a hundred metres below ground. Where the hell are we going?” She frowns slightly, “There is nothing on the other side of the door. It’s a void.”
The King opens the door and turns his back on the darkness, “It can feel strange the first time you cross over. That is natural. Before you step through, try to relax. You can’t see it, but there is something solid the other side.”
She watches, stunned as he steps back into the void and even his lifepulse vanishes.
Nikita takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, allowing her body to relax. The without hesitation steps through into the unknown.
After leaving a small room, without windows, the King escorts Nikita into the open air and beyond a contingent of soldiers in dress uniform.
Nikita takes a deep breath of salty sea air, with the scent of olive groves and corn, maize and wheat carried on the breeze. She stands at the apex of a hill, at the top of a stone staircase, behind her stands a pristine, Greek style temple.
Her mouth hangs open at the spectacle before her. Rolling hills surrounded her, flowing down to the sea. Beyond the sea another land lays with a low slung mountain range limned in snow, towering over several large dull coloured encampments. However, dominating the skyline is a single massive mountain in the far distance.
The landscape here is scattered with buildings, both standing tall and carved into the rocks of the land. Above everything is a cavalcade of aerial vehicles, like silver darts on ion winds.
So caught up with the vista before her, she doesn’t register the gaggle of onlookers surrounding herself and the King.
“Breath-taking isn’t it.” Halpron says, compassionately, “Even now, it still gets me too.”
“I can see why.” Nikita says, extending her senses and raising an eyebrow, “My senses reach much farther than back home. I can sense a lot of people and some of the animals here, I have never sensed before.”
She turns to face the King and tilts her head with a crooked smile, “OK. Colour me impressed, as far as I can tell it is not a trick. Can we take a look around?”
“Of course. By air or by land?” Halpron offers, warmly.
Nikita weighs the options for a moment and simply says, “By land, I think.”
The King turns to the crowd and smiles, “Good people, alas we must away. Thank you for your wonderful welcome, may the gods be with you.”
A small cheer goes up from the crowd as the King leads Nikita through it, laying his hands on those they pass.
She notes their clothing, a mix of loose fitting robes and tunics, with a few in more modern fashions. All simple designs, but exquisitely well made, with high quality fabrics and fine stitching.
Eventually, they clear the crowd and emerge from the terrace onto a street of pristine white stone. In contrast to the wild variety of colours worn by those around them by the throngs of people drawn by news of the King in their midst.
Nikita smiles looking up at the hummingbirds swooping and hovering overhead. “This place is very beautiful and everything is so intricately designed. I wonder if it is all like this.”
A silver vehicle awaits them at the kerb, sleek lines, no corners, all curves. It hovers a few inches off of the ground with a low hum, looking for all the world like a wingless dragonfly.
Halpron opens the rear door for the vehicle and beckons Nikita to enter. “Thank you, your Highness.” She says entering the cool interior of the vehicle and sliding over. The King joins her and closes the door, shutting out some of the noise of the street.
“Is it always so busy?” Nikita asks, feeling the lifepulses of those surrounding the car.
“I was only crowned a few days ago and the people are still getting used to it.” He pauses, “As am I.”
For the first time since she revealed herself, she senses disquiet and unease in the King. She watches him closely, while he asks the driver of the vehicle to do a circuit of the city.
When he settles back in his seat, Nikita relaxes and gazes out of the window, “Can you tell me about Atlantis?”
The King settled in his seat further and smiles gently, “Well, er where to begin?” He pauses, “Atlantis is spread over four islands, a central island and three other islands which form concentric rings around it.”
As he speaks, Nikita takes in the array of stalls, shops and the smells of the city. A hint of spice and herb, mixed with the sea.
“The outermost ring is called Evanos it is where we grow our crops and gather our fish for the city. This is our larder. The next circle is Kaemos, where we are now.” He smiles, “This is the heart of our nation, the seat of government and where our populace lives and trades. Here our sciences and alchemy flourishes with dedicated colleges for all of the sciences and the arts....”
She notes his change in tone, when talking of Kaemos and its many features, showing his pride and love for it.
“Then the inner circle, Garnos. This is the home of our military. Our sword and shield against the interlopers.” He pauses, showing his discomfort, “Then, there is Daemos.”
Nikita feels the change in the atmosphere as soon as the words tumble from his lips. She feels him tense and sees his adrenaline start to flow as it reliving the memory of some distant trauma.
“It was a seat of learning. Where human and Annunaki worked in unison to unlock the secrets of multiple dimensional space, opening us to finding the secrets of creation and all its wonders. The portals were a blessing, until they became a curse. Annunakin and other denizens spilled forth razing the island. Where once it was beauteous, now it is a ruin, ruled by other worldly creatures that seek to destroy all other life.”
He sits quietly gathering his thoughts for a the longest time before he speaks, “Thousands lost their lives, before we contained them on the island. Now Garnos is a ring of steel around it, holding them at bay.”
Nikita watches the furrows on his brow as he talks. “He is a man conflicted. I can buy Atlantis being real, this is too elaborate to be a ruse. I am not sure about him though. He is a soldier but I don’t know if he is a King.” She thinks, before asking, “Why not conduct an assault on Daemos? Purge the Annunakin and reclaim it.”
“The waters around it are mined to prevent Annunakin swimming to Garnos. They gather in numbers under the central mountain and along its lower slopes, surging as a horde every week or so, when the numbers reach critical mass. Besides, however many we eliminate, more will spew from the portal.” The King, sighs looking weary, “We have enough resources to hold them and halt their advance, but not enough to eliminate them.“
“Heavy bombing from the air.” Nikita asks, gently.
“We’ve tried and as soon as our aircraft approach, everything on the island goes to ground.” He says, grimly.
They ride on in awkward silence, through the throngs of people. Endless winding streets, lined with wondrous carvings and sculptures and brightly coloured stalls, hawking all manner of wares.
“This place sure is something.” Nikita says, with more than a hint of admiration. “It is so beautiful. So vibrant.”
The King looks away from her, to stare out of the tilted window wordlessly.
“He looks tense. Something’s off.” Nikita observes.
“Over five million souls. All looking to their King to protect them and be just and true in his rule.” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and continues, “Truth be told, we are running low on Orichalcum and without it, the Annunakin will not be contained for long. If that happened, then all this goes away.” He has a faraway look in his eyes and whispers under his breath, “Even if we do get it, I have no idea what I am doing. I am soldier, not a ruler. I am at home in the field, this is not me.”
He stops himself and turns to look at Nikita, “Sorry, I don’t mean to unload, but you are really easy to talk to.”
Nikita hesitates for a moment, before placing a gentle hand on his arm. Softly, she speaks, “With the PCS in my blood you will be able to replenish your stocks, Your Highness.” She pauses for a moment, casting her gaze to her feet, “I do what I do but there is no great secret or insight to anything I do. I make it up as I go along and sometimes it causes me problems. Big problems.”
“What kind of problems?” Halpron asks, seeking any kind of guidance.
“I have a daughter, long story, but she will grow up not knowing who I am. I killed someone who betrayed my family and it haunts me and I leap into harm’s way every chance I get so I don’t have to think about it.” Nikita confesses, “I get where you are coming from, swinging from one decision to the next hoping for the best.”
“How do you make sure the choices you make are right?” Halpron asks, turning back to face her.
“Making the choice is the easy part. Making peace with it, that's the hard part. Sometimes it is not clear what to do for the best, so it is better to just do something. If it is wrong you can fix it as best you can and then do something else. But it is always better to at least try to do something.” Nikita says, wearily.
“Does that work for you?” Halpron says, mulling over her words.
“Sometimes it works out. I went off grid a couple of days ago and since then, I have been kidnapped, assaulted, had to kill a guy and ended up in Atlantis in a flying car with the nation’s King, being told that my blood can save the city.” Nikita says, with a snort, “That is not how normal people end up.”
“From what I have seen you are anything but normal.” Halpron says, without irony, “You are nothing like your profile and you are full of surprises.”
“Yeah, I guess that is why I am going to let you take my blood.” Nikita says, voicing the decision as she makes it.
“Are you sure?” The King asks, surprised.
“Yeah, this all is the right level of nuts to be true, because it all feels real and you couldn’t make it up. I see what is at stake here and I am on board.” Nikita says, with a smile. “I am ready when you are.”
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
[mention]wolfman[/mention], you are on par with the greats of science fiction and fantasy. Wonderful story.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2622
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
I agree. The one thing that always impresses me is the sheer volume of chapters. Sometimes I am glad I can post a chapter a week and [mention]wolfman[/mention] comes by and posts a lot more. I am always impressed by that.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
That is high praise indeed, given the amazing worlds you jave created. Thank you.
I had a period of time to put a few in the bank and have the chsnce to crank a few out now. Hopefully, I continue to entertainslackywacky wrote: ↑11 months agoI agree. The one thing that always impresses me is the sheer volume of chapters. Sometimes I am glad I can post a chapter a week and [mention]wolfman[/mention] comes by and posts a lot more. I am always impressed by that.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
Nikita lays back on the bed and slowly breathes, allowing her body to relax. Her gaze drifts from the blue skies and sea through the rooms large bay window, down to the tubes going into her left arm.
The thin blanket is cool against her skin despite the warmth of the room and the silk negligee adds an air of luxury to her current situation.
The dialysis machine at her side, is quieter and more sleek looking than the ones back home, however ostensibly it does the same job.
She closes her eyes for a moment, focusing in the lifepulses around her, “Interesting, now I look closer, Atlanteans are subtly different to normal humans. They possess the potential to be up to four times as strong and a measure more durable than earth born humans. An almost perfect warrior race, one might say.”
For a moment her brow furrows, “What if they are planning to move against Earth? My blood could contain the weapon that they need.” Nikita thinks, fearfully before relaxing, “That’s easy to determine. But do I want to do that here?”
“Halpron seems genuine and a little lost in some ways. Angela on the other hand is another matter, she seems settled in her role.” Nikita muses, “I don’t think she has her eyes on the throne but there is something there. She made an excuse about business for the Order, but it could have been a ruse.”
Nikita is pulled from her thoughts, but the sound of someone entering the room. She recognises the lifepulse as belonging to Angela. When Angela enters her field of vision, she beams her warmest smile, “Back so soon.” She asks playfully, thinking “Good timing.”
Angela returns her smile and checks the tubes from the machine as she speaks, “Couldn’t stay away. There is something about a powerful warrior woman, laying in bed waiting for me, that I simply cannot stay away from.” She tucks her flowing blonde locks behind her ear and adjusts her pale blue tunic to pull out any wrinkles.
“I’m flattered, love. But I am strictly a meat and two veg kind of girl.” Nikita says, sympathetically.
“Me too, but you do turn a girls head.” Angela says, playfully.
“I am flattered but I am sure you have no shortage of warrior women and men, bowing at your feet with your smile.”
Angela giggles gently, “If only that were true.”
“Surely, if a spldier is wounded, she might end up in your care.” Nikita offers, innocently, thinking, “If I have it figured right the King is in overall charge of the military and Angela is in charge of the order, which in turn manages transformation. Whether that be from lead to gold or injured to healed.”
Angela looks down at her patient, with sadness, “Only if our men and women are wounded in training. Soldiers who go to Deamos either come back uninjured, or they don’t come back here.”
Nikita sits up, all pretence of levity faded, “Why don’t they come back?”
“The Annunakin. When they strike, their extra dimensional touch corrupts those they injure and the wounds never heal.” Angela says, solemnly.
“Where are these victims?” Nikita asks, knowing she has not seen any lifepulses that would fit the description.
Angela chews her lips for a moment, before leaning in and confiding, “There are massive infirmaries on Garnos where they are cared for and the pain is treated. Sometimes it can take weeks or even months for them to die.”
Nikita sits quietly for a moment, letting the revelation sink in before saying, “Thank you for telling me. I will not betray your trust.”
“Thank you.” Angela says, softly.
“So do you regularly siphon blood of human Annunakin?” Nikita asks, lightly.
“Only when someone volunteers.” Angela says lightly.
“What of those who don’t volunteer?” Nikita asks, keeping her tone breezy.
Angela smiles, “We only take what is freely given.”
Nikita breathes an internal sign on relief, thinking, “Her lifepulse and vital indicate she is at ease with what she says. I would guess she believes it.”
Angela switches the collector in the dialysis machine and places the full one in a fridge. She turns back to Nikita with raised eyebrows, “We have never collected so much from one person in such a short period of time. You are remarkable.”
Nikita sighs, remembering her time at Medteqniq, “Alas, you are not the first to find my blood remarkable.”
“I heard you were experimented on and the kind of things they did to you. How did you survive?” Angela asks, trying to imagine what Nikita went through.
“I fought hard and never let myself forget who I was.” Nikita confesses. “In my mind, I repeated to myself every detail I could remember about myself, like a mantra until the pain subsided or I died. When I came back I started again.”
Imagining herself in that position, Angela shakes her head and with open admiration says, “I have no idea how I would have coped.” She takes a deep breath and taps her lips with her forefinger, hesitating before breaking her silence, “Can I ask you something?”
Nikita sees the nervousness, play out across Angela’s features and nods, bracing herself. Angela chews her lip for a moment before asking, “Would you consider coming back to donate more PCS? We don’t normally ask donors to give more than once, however, it would make a world of difference to us.” She pauses for a moment, almost unwilling to continue, “I appreciate you even considering it, especially in your condition.”
Nikita sits up in bed, subtly, “What do you mean my condition?” She asks, trying to hide her nerves.
“Despite your massive power, you are in a bad way.” Angela says, carefully. “I saw it, the moment I laid eyes on you. I could feel the drain when we were talking and had to recover after.”
Nikita simply nods, unable to meet the other woman’s gaze.
“Do you know what is wrong?” Angela asks, gently.
“I have seen most diseases, forms of cancer and infection and I have never seen anything like I have.” Nikita says, with a far away look in her eyes.
“How is it manifesting?” Angela asks, curiously.
“I can do everything I normally do, but my upper limits are much reduced. I used to be able to operate for hours before hitting my reserves, but now, I hit them almost instantly.” Nikita says, saying aloud what she has know in secret for some months, “I am dying, by degrees.”
“How long do you have?” Angela says, feeling the other woman’s frustration and pain.
“At my current rate of decline, a few months, maybe even a few weeks.” Nikita says with a tear in her eye.
“Let us help you. Together we could figure this out.” Angela says, placing a gently hand on Nikita’s arm.
Nikita smiles sadly, “Have my last days, in a lab being poked and prodded?” She sighs, “I have had enough of that in my life. I will do the good that I can and then fade into the night. In the mean time depending on how my recovery from dialysis goes, I will consider more sessions, to give you what you need.”
“I can see why my brother likes you “ Angela says, “You are the strongest, kindest person I have ever met.”
Nikita looks at Angela fearfully, “Please don’t tell him, or anyone else. If it becomes known, people will see me differently.”
“No, they would see your strength and courage.” Angela assures her.
“When I was younger, I worked with a guy called Martin. He had been in a wheelchair since he was a nipper. He once said to me, that is was not his legs or the chair that made him disabled.” She smiles, remembering him and how three months ago, she found him and how he refused, when she offered to restore his legs, “He said that he was disabled, because of what people around him decided he was capable of.”
“You think it would be the same for you?” Angela asks, gently.
“Pretty much.” Nikita says with a shrug. “I want to keep doing the good I can do, while I can do it.”
“I can respect that.” Angela says, with a nod, “Your secret is safe with me.”
Nikita feels a heaviness in the room when Halpron enters. “His lifepulse is troubled, his mind is in turmoil. Something is very wrong.”
She opens her eyes and sits up in bed to greet him, “Your majesty, to what do I owe this honour?”
“I am truly sorry to disturb you, but I needed space to think and this is the only place I can come without my viziers pursuing me.” He confesses, with a pang of regret.
“I get how that can be. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, eh?” Nikita says, gently. “It isn’t the same, but when I lead rescue ops, everyone looks to me and I second guess every decision I make knowing lives are on the line. Sometimes it is hard.”
“The truth is, that you have no idea how important your contribution is to us right now.” The King says, with an air of nervousness
Nikita senses the change in him and lights a cigarette, when he nods it is OK. “Has something changed?”
The King nods subtly, “Yes. I am afraid it has.” He pauses for a moment, “Our reconnaissance has confirmed that Annunakin forces on Deamos are massing in numbers that have never been seen before.”
“How bad could it be?” Nikita asks, blowing smoke towards the open windows.
“They can swim the channel to Garnos and if even half of them reach the shore, it would be a disaster.” He confirms, in a matter of fact tone. “If they establish a beachhead on Garnos, it would hamper outer ability to mount a counter attack. They could bolster their numbers on Daemos and we would never be able to hold them back.”
Nikita sits up in bed, with a subtle flourish, she dons a pair of leggings and baggy t-shirt, in case she has to get on the move. “How long do we have?”
“Don’t worry, we can get you safely back in plenty of time.” He says, warmly, “Only a few people know, I have not even been able to tell Angela yet.”
“How long do we have?” She asks again, calmly.
“Tomorrow, maybe the day after.” He says, sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed and putting his head in his hands, “Everyone is looking to me for answers and I am being bombarded from all sides with no time to think. Truth be told, I have come here today, because you talk to me like a person first and a King second.” He suddenly looks very drawn, “I need to talk to someone who will talk to me straight.”
“I may not have the answers, however will always listen, your Highness.” Nikita says, sensing the man’s pain. She looks up at the man standing over her and thinks to herself, “For all his strength and presence, he is afraid and vulnerable. He probably doesn’t realise how strong he is, by being able to show his vulnerable side. I wish I could be better at that sometimes.”
He thinks for a moment and begins, “We can’t bomb them, because they hide when they hear the bombers. We can’t storm the island because they have strength of numbers and they will swarm any craft that land. At range, our troops have the advantage, but if the enemy gets close they are quickly overran.”
Nikita takes a deep lungful of tobacco smoke and holds it whilst he speaks, then exhales slowly. Her thoughtful expression betrays the deliberations that she is having. She nods to herself pursing her lips slightly before she speaks, “First up why are your men so good at range and so quick to fall up close.”
The King leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on its arms and steeples his fingers in front of him, before speaking, “Each man carries a gyrojet rifle firing guided rockets with solid state fuel cells which lock on to a target and track once fired. At range they are devastating. But in close quarters they take too long to lock on to their targets and fire too slowly. On top of that, the rounds will not detonate if one of our troops is inside the blast radius.”
Nikita nods appreciatively, understanding the effectiveness of such a weapon in long range operations, “What sidearm would one of your troops carry normally?” She asks, taking another lungful of smoke.
“A handgun similar to those used by terrestrial military forces, albeit with Orichalcum rounds.” The King says, before confessing, “The men don’t have as much time training with them or with hand to hand as I would like.”
“Why don’t you change that? Can you change it?” Nikita asks, thinking quickly, with the seed of an idea forming in the back of her mind.
“I will lay out my plan for the future of the military. It will be slow to change and too late for the amassing of Annunakin that we face now.” Halpron confirms, with a pang of sadness, “Everyone is looking to me for answers in our greatest hour of need and all of the options lead to massive casualties. I wish my father were still alive”
Nikita sits quietly, contemplating what to say when a warm smile starts to slowly curl her lips. “What if you there is an option that you haven’t considered.” She asks, with a glint in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” Halpron asks, with a mixture of hope and confusion.
“Weakness as advantage.” Nikita says, thoughtfully, before extinguishing her cigarette and focusing, “They swarm when you land. They run when they hear the bombers. Your men only have the advantage at range.” She says knowingly before beckoning the King closer to outline her thoughts.
The thin blanket is cool against her skin despite the warmth of the room and the silk negligee adds an air of luxury to her current situation.
The dialysis machine at her side, is quieter and more sleek looking than the ones back home, however ostensibly it does the same job.
She closes her eyes for a moment, focusing in the lifepulses around her, “Interesting, now I look closer, Atlanteans are subtly different to normal humans. They possess the potential to be up to four times as strong and a measure more durable than earth born humans. An almost perfect warrior race, one might say.”
For a moment her brow furrows, “What if they are planning to move against Earth? My blood could contain the weapon that they need.” Nikita thinks, fearfully before relaxing, “That’s easy to determine. But do I want to do that here?”
“Halpron seems genuine and a little lost in some ways. Angela on the other hand is another matter, she seems settled in her role.” Nikita muses, “I don’t think she has her eyes on the throne but there is something there. She made an excuse about business for the Order, but it could have been a ruse.”
Nikita is pulled from her thoughts, but the sound of someone entering the room. She recognises the lifepulse as belonging to Angela. When Angela enters her field of vision, she beams her warmest smile, “Back so soon.” She asks playfully, thinking “Good timing.”
Angela returns her smile and checks the tubes from the machine as she speaks, “Couldn’t stay away. There is something about a powerful warrior woman, laying in bed waiting for me, that I simply cannot stay away from.” She tucks her flowing blonde locks behind her ear and adjusts her pale blue tunic to pull out any wrinkles.
“I’m flattered, love. But I am strictly a meat and two veg kind of girl.” Nikita says, sympathetically.
“Me too, but you do turn a girls head.” Angela says, playfully.
“I am flattered but I am sure you have no shortage of warrior women and men, bowing at your feet with your smile.”
Angela giggles gently, “If only that were true.”
“Surely, if a spldier is wounded, she might end up in your care.” Nikita offers, innocently, thinking, “If I have it figured right the King is in overall charge of the military and Angela is in charge of the order, which in turn manages transformation. Whether that be from lead to gold or injured to healed.”
Angela looks down at her patient, with sadness, “Only if our men and women are wounded in training. Soldiers who go to Deamos either come back uninjured, or they don’t come back here.”
Nikita sits up, all pretence of levity faded, “Why don’t they come back?”
“The Annunakin. When they strike, their extra dimensional touch corrupts those they injure and the wounds never heal.” Angela says, solemnly.
“Where are these victims?” Nikita asks, knowing she has not seen any lifepulses that would fit the description.
Angela chews her lips for a moment, before leaning in and confiding, “There are massive infirmaries on Garnos where they are cared for and the pain is treated. Sometimes it can take weeks or even months for them to die.”
Nikita sits quietly for a moment, letting the revelation sink in before saying, “Thank you for telling me. I will not betray your trust.”
“Thank you.” Angela says, softly.
“So do you regularly siphon blood of human Annunakin?” Nikita asks, lightly.
“Only when someone volunteers.” Angela says lightly.
“What of those who don’t volunteer?” Nikita asks, keeping her tone breezy.
Angela smiles, “We only take what is freely given.”
Nikita breathes an internal sign on relief, thinking, “Her lifepulse and vital indicate she is at ease with what she says. I would guess she believes it.”
Angela switches the collector in the dialysis machine and places the full one in a fridge. She turns back to Nikita with raised eyebrows, “We have never collected so much from one person in such a short period of time. You are remarkable.”
Nikita sighs, remembering her time at Medteqniq, “Alas, you are not the first to find my blood remarkable.”
“I heard you were experimented on and the kind of things they did to you. How did you survive?” Angela asks, trying to imagine what Nikita went through.
“I fought hard and never let myself forget who I was.” Nikita confesses. “In my mind, I repeated to myself every detail I could remember about myself, like a mantra until the pain subsided or I died. When I came back I started again.”
Imagining herself in that position, Angela shakes her head and with open admiration says, “I have no idea how I would have coped.” She takes a deep breath and taps her lips with her forefinger, hesitating before breaking her silence, “Can I ask you something?”
Nikita sees the nervousness, play out across Angela’s features and nods, bracing herself. Angela chews her lip for a moment before asking, “Would you consider coming back to donate more PCS? We don’t normally ask donors to give more than once, however, it would make a world of difference to us.” She pauses for a moment, almost unwilling to continue, “I appreciate you even considering it, especially in your condition.”
Nikita sits up in bed, subtly, “What do you mean my condition?” She asks, trying to hide her nerves.
“Despite your massive power, you are in a bad way.” Angela says, carefully. “I saw it, the moment I laid eyes on you. I could feel the drain when we were talking and had to recover after.”
Nikita simply nods, unable to meet the other woman’s gaze.
“Do you know what is wrong?” Angela asks, gently.
“I have seen most diseases, forms of cancer and infection and I have never seen anything like I have.” Nikita says, with a far away look in her eyes.
“How is it manifesting?” Angela asks, curiously.
“I can do everything I normally do, but my upper limits are much reduced. I used to be able to operate for hours before hitting my reserves, but now, I hit them almost instantly.” Nikita says, saying aloud what she has know in secret for some months, “I am dying, by degrees.”
“How long do you have?” Angela says, feeling the other woman’s frustration and pain.
“At my current rate of decline, a few months, maybe even a few weeks.” Nikita says with a tear in her eye.
“Let us help you. Together we could figure this out.” Angela says, placing a gently hand on Nikita’s arm.
Nikita smiles sadly, “Have my last days, in a lab being poked and prodded?” She sighs, “I have had enough of that in my life. I will do the good that I can and then fade into the night. In the mean time depending on how my recovery from dialysis goes, I will consider more sessions, to give you what you need.”
“I can see why my brother likes you “ Angela says, “You are the strongest, kindest person I have ever met.”
Nikita looks at Angela fearfully, “Please don’t tell him, or anyone else. If it becomes known, people will see me differently.”
“No, they would see your strength and courage.” Angela assures her.
“When I was younger, I worked with a guy called Martin. He had been in a wheelchair since he was a nipper. He once said to me, that is was not his legs or the chair that made him disabled.” She smiles, remembering him and how three months ago, she found him and how he refused, when she offered to restore his legs, “He said that he was disabled, because of what people around him decided he was capable of.”
“You think it would be the same for you?” Angela asks, gently.
“Pretty much.” Nikita says with a shrug. “I want to keep doing the good I can do, while I can do it.”
“I can respect that.” Angela says, with a nod, “Your secret is safe with me.”
Nikita feels a heaviness in the room when Halpron enters. “His lifepulse is troubled, his mind is in turmoil. Something is very wrong.”
She opens her eyes and sits up in bed to greet him, “Your majesty, to what do I owe this honour?”
“I am truly sorry to disturb you, but I needed space to think and this is the only place I can come without my viziers pursuing me.” He confesses, with a pang of regret.
“I get how that can be. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, eh?” Nikita says, gently. “It isn’t the same, but when I lead rescue ops, everyone looks to me and I second guess every decision I make knowing lives are on the line. Sometimes it is hard.”
“The truth is, that you have no idea how important your contribution is to us right now.” The King says, with an air of nervousness
Nikita senses the change in him and lights a cigarette, when he nods it is OK. “Has something changed?”
The King nods subtly, “Yes. I am afraid it has.” He pauses for a moment, “Our reconnaissance has confirmed that Annunakin forces on Deamos are massing in numbers that have never been seen before.”
“How bad could it be?” Nikita asks, blowing smoke towards the open windows.
“They can swim the channel to Garnos and if even half of them reach the shore, it would be a disaster.” He confirms, in a matter of fact tone. “If they establish a beachhead on Garnos, it would hamper outer ability to mount a counter attack. They could bolster their numbers on Daemos and we would never be able to hold them back.”
Nikita sits up in bed, with a subtle flourish, she dons a pair of leggings and baggy t-shirt, in case she has to get on the move. “How long do we have?”
“Don’t worry, we can get you safely back in plenty of time.” He says, warmly, “Only a few people know, I have not even been able to tell Angela yet.”
“How long do we have?” She asks again, calmly.
“Tomorrow, maybe the day after.” He says, sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed and putting his head in his hands, “Everyone is looking to me for answers and I am being bombarded from all sides with no time to think. Truth be told, I have come here today, because you talk to me like a person first and a King second.” He suddenly looks very drawn, “I need to talk to someone who will talk to me straight.”
“I may not have the answers, however will always listen, your Highness.” Nikita says, sensing the man’s pain. She looks up at the man standing over her and thinks to herself, “For all his strength and presence, he is afraid and vulnerable. He probably doesn’t realise how strong he is, by being able to show his vulnerable side. I wish I could be better at that sometimes.”
He thinks for a moment and begins, “We can’t bomb them, because they hide when they hear the bombers. We can’t storm the island because they have strength of numbers and they will swarm any craft that land. At range, our troops have the advantage, but if the enemy gets close they are quickly overran.”
Nikita takes a deep lungful of tobacco smoke and holds it whilst he speaks, then exhales slowly. Her thoughtful expression betrays the deliberations that she is having. She nods to herself pursing her lips slightly before she speaks, “First up why are your men so good at range and so quick to fall up close.”
The King leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on its arms and steeples his fingers in front of him, before speaking, “Each man carries a gyrojet rifle firing guided rockets with solid state fuel cells which lock on to a target and track once fired. At range they are devastating. But in close quarters they take too long to lock on to their targets and fire too slowly. On top of that, the rounds will not detonate if one of our troops is inside the blast radius.”
Nikita nods appreciatively, understanding the effectiveness of such a weapon in long range operations, “What sidearm would one of your troops carry normally?” She asks, taking another lungful of smoke.
“A handgun similar to those used by terrestrial military forces, albeit with Orichalcum rounds.” The King says, before confessing, “The men don’t have as much time training with them or with hand to hand as I would like.”
“Why don’t you change that? Can you change it?” Nikita asks, thinking quickly, with the seed of an idea forming in the back of her mind.
“I will lay out my plan for the future of the military. It will be slow to change and too late for the amassing of Annunakin that we face now.” Halpron confirms, with a pang of sadness, “Everyone is looking to me for answers in our greatest hour of need and all of the options lead to massive casualties. I wish my father were still alive”
Nikita sits quietly, contemplating what to say when a warm smile starts to slowly curl her lips. “What if you there is an option that you haven’t considered.” She asks, with a glint in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” Halpron asks, with a mixture of hope and confusion.
“Weakness as advantage.” Nikita says, thoughtfully, before extinguishing her cigarette and focusing, “They swarm when you land. They run when they hear the bombers. Your men only have the advantage at range.” She says knowingly before beckoning the King closer to outline her thoughts.
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
A sad chapter I must say - a brilliant one too - to loose Nikita would be incredibly sad. You described her feelings her emotions so well. I still hope that there is a way that Nikita can be cured. She has not deserved to end like this - imho 
[mention]Caesar73[/mention] is correct, [mention]wolfman[/mention], but Nikita is a hero and deserves a hero ending. Few get that. At the same time, there is hope as long as the scientists of Atlantis can study her problem.
Last edited by GreyLord 11 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
I could not agree more [mention]GreyLord[/mention]
All i can say is it is not over yet and if it is her time, she will meet it well
Nikita is a hero in all she does.
As far as Altantean scientists helping, she spent a long time being experimented on and as a character, she would be ublikely to go for that again.
But as in all things, there is hope
View my latest story, Revelation, here;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=8719
To view it's prequel Devastation, please click below;
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=7458