The Imperial Palace on Kinta was in a state of chaos, with flustered officials scurrying down corridors, their frightened faces reflecting the febrile atmosphere on the Kintark homeworld. Tamolith the Consort prowled down one of the grand corridors leading to the Emperor's throne room, her fearsome draconic features twisted into a scowl of contempt. Ever since the horrifying defeat at Terra, she'd been sensing an ugly feeling of resentment amongst the imperial subjects and she knew something had to be done, and done quickly, to avoid disaster.
Her long claws dug into the granite floor, each footfall making a heavy thump, loud enough to warn the chattel to keep well out of her way. As she approached an intersection, a terrified courtier ran out into the corridor, looking back over his shoulder as he fled. Heedless of the red dragon in his path, he thumped into her enormous scaled forelimb, then bounced away to sprawl across the floor.
"Impudent wretch," she snarled, baring an enormous set of fangs. "How dare you sully my magnificence with your filthy touch?!"
"By Dirgisss the Merciful... I beg you..." the junior official whimpered, cowering on the floor.
Tamolith sneered, then backhanded him with a huge forepaw, sending the screaming Kintark cartwheeling through the air. She watched him get some impressive ground clearance, then smiled as he slammed into one of the pillars lining the corridor with a sickening thump. When his shattered body crashed to the ground, the remaining courtiers fled in fear for their lives, much to her satisfaction. It was always good to remind the peons exactly where they stood in the pecking order.
Turning down the corridor the rushing courtier had appeared from, she padded ahead, her gaze locked on the vast ornate doorway at the end. Each door was intricately carved, a labour of love that had continued for centuries, with spectacular stylised dragons in majestic poses. There were half-a-dozen Royal Guard standing guard outside, all that remained of the Praetorian forces that Baledranax had left behind to protect his mate.
"GET OUT YOU MISERABLE CRETINS!"
Tamolith rolled her huge reptilian eyes as she heard Vilandrith's scream of fury. The Empress had been devastated to see her mate brought low at the hands of the Lion and had taken to raging at the palace officials in her grief. A flood of Kintark ministers bolted through the partially-opened doors, followed by the sound of tortured screams. When she reached the huge doors, she barged her way through, ignoring the guards who wisely scurried aside to let her pass. The doors clanged back into place behind her, closing with a thunderous crash as Tamolith prowled into the throne room.
"Is something vexing you, resplendent Empress?" she asked, picking her way through the lacerated corpses that littered the vast chamber.
Vilandrith uncurled herself from the raised dais, her fearsome draconic features etched in grief. "Why must these fools pester me in my time of mourning?!" she sobbed, amber eyes filled with unshed tears. "They should all be grieving the loss of their beloved Emperor! The Palace should be ringing with their lamentations!"
Tamolith could feel the mood-altering pheromones pouring off the grief-stricken female dragon, the emotions varying wildly from anger to fear, then grief, and finally despair. Counting herself fortunate that she was immune to their debilitating effects, she approached the wildly temperamental Empress with caution.
"Vilandrith... my heart breaks for your loss, but the Empire is critically exposed," she warned her, keeping her rumbling voice to a non-confrontational purr. "We must protect our borders, but we haven't got-"
"Why should I lift a claw to protect those disloyal traitors!" the Empress howled, eyes suddenly ablaze with fury. "If they hadn't failed their Emperor when he needed them most, we would be reaping the spoils of victory! Let those worlds burn for all I care!" She broke down again, wailing in her grief. "This shouldn't be happening! Baledranax was so powerful, so mighty... he was an immortal god made flesh..."
"I did warn him that John Blake wasn't to be trifled with," Tamolith murmured, thinking back on her return to the palace only a few short months ago. She immediately regretted her comment as Vilandrith shrieked, apoplectic with rage.
"That miserable little insect! My poor love had yielded and that heartless vermin butchered him like a... like a..." she trailed off, collapsing in a shuddering heap, the vast dragon's resonant sobs of despair echoing around the high-arched audience room.
Tamolith watched the Empress as she wept, trying to determine the best course of action. The Empire would descend into a state of total anarchy before the week was through, and would not survive without someone taking firm control of the throne.
"I might have a solution to your problem..." she tentatively offered. "A way of giving you the necessary time to mourn mighty Baledranax, without constant interruptions from the irritating masses."
Lifting her head, Vilandrith looked at her sister-in-law with hope in her vertically-slitted eyes. "What do you propose, Tamolith?"
Tamolith absent-mindedly scratched a foreclaw across the floor, gouging a deep trench in the marble. "Perhaps I could act as your regent... make sure that everything is running smoothly until you-"
The Empress peeled back her lips from her huge fangs and hissed, eyes ablaze with anger. "You dare to try and usurp my throne?!" She hunched into a crouch, her long tail lashing behind her. "I'm faced with treachery on all sides!"
Debasing herself in front of her fellow dragon, Tamolith lowered her head and neck submissively. "Of course not, Empress! I will forever be in your debt for allowing me to return to the palace with my precious darlings... all I wish is to ease the burden on you in your time of need. Please forgive me that I misspoke and overstepped my position."
All the fight seemed to leech out of Vilandrith and she sagged back onto the dais again. The anger left her too, her draconic features twisting with despair once more. "I-I overreacted Tamolith... you have been a loyal friend..."
Tamolith straightened again, then padded over to join her fellow dragon. "Come, Vilandrith... you should retire to the Imperial Quarters where these meddlesome gnats cannot bother you with their witless inanities."
Heaving a despondent sigh, the Empress lurched to her feet and walked with dragging steps towards the Emperor's personal chambers at the rear of the throne room. "My heart feels like it is made of lead... I have never known such agony," she breathed, her throaty voice communicating the depths of her pain. "How could you stand to lose Kindralax, Tamolith?"
Carefully closing the huge doors behind her, Tamolith smiled as she recalled a pleasant memory. "Ah, it was easy, Empress," she replied, her lips curling into a triumphant sneer. "He'd grown dreadfully dull, so I made a bargain with an intriguing fellow to have him dealt with. I'll have to thank John Blake for dispatching your half-wit of a husband as well!"
Vilandrith whirled around to gape at Tamolith in wide-eyed horror but was too late to react as the other dragon pounced, clamping down around her neck with those massive jaws. The Empress shrieked in agony as long fangs plunged through her scales and bit deep, yellow blood spurting from several vicious wounds. The two dragons crashed to the floor as Vilandrith thrashed to free herself, her foreclaws raking at Tamolith and leaving three bloody clawmarks across her muzzle.
Tamolith violently twisted her head back and forth, long teeth sawing through the other dragon's flesh and widening the savage gouges. Having attacked the Empress from behind, she was able to rake both her front and rear claws down Vilandrith's back, shearing through scales and tearing chunks out of the stricken dragon.
Flailing wildly, Vilandrith tried to free herself from the death grip by slamming the traitor into the wall, but blood was pouring like a waterfall from the cruel wounds to her neck. She began to grow weaker, her struggles less and less effective as Tamolith tore into her. Her final keening wail was cut short in a bubbling gurgle as Tamolith managed to bite through, ripping an enormous chunk out of her neck. After spitting the bloodied flesh from her mouth, Tamolith bit down again, severing Vilandrith's scaly neck completely this time.
Blood began to pool across the floor from the decapitated corpse and Tamolith roared in triumph as she stood over the Empress' body. She shook the dripping yellow blood from her fang-filled maw, then grinned as she surveyed her handiwork. "Poor, trusting fool," she gloated as she studied the dead Empress, making sure she couldn't regenerate such a gruesome injury. "Did you really think I'd forgiven Baledranax for banishing me to Xen-Nucheck with his loathsome brother?"
Of course, the headless body was in no position to reply, but Tamolith spotted movement deeper in the quarters, half-a-dozen sets of fearful orange eyes staring at her out of the gloom. Her ferocious draconic face twisted into a feral grin as she stalked deeper into the Imperial chambers. Tamolith's revenge against Baledranax was not yet complete...
***
John waited as the robotic limbs lifted armour plates away from his body, freeing him from the confines of the Paragon suit. Stepping out of his armoured boots, he smiled at Admiral Harris, who was gaping at the armour-equipping frame in astonishment.
"Not bad eh?" John said with a grin, strolling past his friend towards his bedroom. "Strapping ourselves into armour was taking way too long, so Dana came up with that little invention."
"I've never seen anything like it!" Charles gasped, turning to hurry after him. "You could make an absolute fortune selling tech like that!"
"I'm not sure Fleet Admiral Devereux's going to have much money left in her budget, not after the incredibly generous bounty I'm expecting for the Hera," John replied, winking at the older man.
Charles laughed and shook his head. "I thought you said you didn't want it?"
"Ah, maybe I'll hang on to it after all..." John murmured, pretending to consider the idea. "I could blast the crap out of it, then leave it in orbit around Terra, a bit like 'The Warning'. Do you think that would make anyone in the Admiralty think twice about messing with the girls?"
"I think after what Alyssa did to Weber, they won't even risk looking at any of the Lionesses the wrong way..." Charles replied with a wry smile.
John hit the button to open the doors into the Officers Lounge, then nodded towards the sofas. "Grab a seat, I'll get us a drink. Whiskey, right?"
The Terran admiral sat down and smiled as he unbuttoned his jacket. "As long as I'm not going to get a stern reprimand from Doctor Voss; I don't want her thinking I don't appreciate what she did for me."
John placed two glasses on the bar, then poured out the amber-coloured alcohol, adding a handful of ice to each one.
*Two vodka cranberries please,* Alyssa eagerly requested, as he put down the bottle of whiskey.
Charles watched as John poured out two more drinks. "Are we expecting company?"