Skietra

by Sharon Best

(Enhanced images by John)

Last update: 11-Nov-01

(This sequence was stimulated by an email from Ennio who asked some questions about Saray'en, sometimes called P0, powers. I started there and went far beyond, combining some truly unique pictures into an equally unique story. However, I'm not sure its a story that can be told, not at this time anyway, but it was fun to play with. Consider this a concept piece -- a completely sacrilegious answer to the most basic of all human questions: Who is God?)

"You're way out of line here, Dary'em," the Commandant said as he leaned back in his chair to puff on his Daxxanian cigar. "Questioning the wisdom of the Council is not good for your career, especially during the current crisis."

Both men were staring at the wall-sized display on the far wall of the Commandant's palatial office. It showed a close-up image of their latest fledgling Protector.

"I'm telling you, Sir," the grizzled old Combat Arts sergeant growled as he blew a smoke ring that floated in the air in front of him, "those geneticists are going totally fucking overboard. I don't think there's a trace of gold sensitivity left in this girl. And what's with the beauty queen look? We're supposed to be creating warriors, not concubines."

"Don't know, Dar'yem," the Commandant shrugged. "I'm not on the selection board anymore."

"But you did talk to them? You've still got a lot of influence with the board."

"The members are all new, most of them a bunch of M-class hotheads from the University. But I talked with them. The claim that whenever they mix in Galen genetics, they get these kind of extreme physical appearances." He pointed at the three-metron tall image on the wall display. "Apparently Galen genes are very dominant and they were a uniquely attractive race."

"Funny... most of the universe thinks that our women are the most beautiful," Dary'em admitted as he puffed harder on his cigar. "But this girl puts any Velorian I've ever seen to shame. I mean, she ain't exactly going to strike fear in the hearts of men." He paused to stare wistfully into the depths of the girl's utterly magnificent cleavage. "I think this one's gonna work on an entirely different set of reflexes."

"She certainly is uniquely energetic, isn't she?" The use of the word 'energetic' conveyed a very Velorian twist.

The girl on the screen was a complete puzzle to both men, especially since her background records were classified for access by Q7 or above. Prior to this week, he hadn't even known there was such a thing as Q7.

"I suspect that's why your Captain challenged her to a contest of Kary'en, the ritual of unarmed combat. The only weapons allowed being that thin layer of oil."

"And pheromic passion," Dary'em growled. "I don't mean no disrespect, Sir, but, well, the Captain tried to take advantage of her. That isn't right."

"Seems he got his just reward, Dary'em."

"Maybe, Sir. He's still in the hospital, with four ribs cracked and a broken leg. Dislocated spin too. Not sure what went on during their little contest, but the nurses were sure giggling about his 'condition' when he came in for treatment. Seems as if his bruises weren't limited to their wrestling."

"Well, at least she proved what we all suspected. The Saray'en's options for intimacy are rather limited here on Velor."

"The ritual of Kary'en ain't exactly intimate, not the way I teach my boys to play it that is. It's combat. Gotta get our girls ready to handle one of those murderous Primes if he tries to go orgonic. Velorians girls do have a reputation to uphold."

"Sexual combat. I've never been comfortable with us teaching that skill, Dary'em."

"The Captain sure likes to. He hooks up personally with every new girl, taking advantage of the competitiveness of each new Protector to turn the contest into a challenge. A bet, one where the winner has certain rights."

"Games of sexual combat are as old as the Supremis race, Dary'em. As long as there have been female warriors and men who wish to challenge them, the stakes have often been so."

"True 'nuff, Sir. But I told the Captain that when he first got here, you know, that messing with those big-eyed Saray'en girls was a good way to get hurt. Like I was saying a minute ago, gold don't work on 'em worth a damn." He puffed hard on his cigar, and then looked at his old friend with a twinkle in his eye. "Least it was only the Captain who got hisself hurt. Deserved it, he did."

The Commandant puffed harder on his cigar, resisting the urge to laugh. Captain Strin'flow had indeed gotten his just reward. The Captain was new to his staff, and Dary'em had made sure everyone knew exactly what he thought of his new and inexperienced Captain. The Captain lived on his overblown sense of pride, exploiting the fact that he'd spent his first ten hears of adult like as a Messenger.

The Commandant privately sympathized with his Sergeant, for he'd fought two campaigns against the Arions with Dary'em at his side, and the loyalties forged in combat went a lot further than rank. He was already working to get Captain Strin'flow transferred out of the unit.

"You got the report. What's the girl say about their contest?" Dar'yem asked.

The Commandant slid the electronic tablet across his desk. "According to this, she just said 'Oops'."

The sergeant smiled toothily. "They never do know their own strength, do they> Leastwise this girl ain't so arrogant as the other one, that Ell'ee. She's actually kind of sweet, in fact."

"Not taking a fancy to one of your students now are you, Sergeant?"

"No, not me, Sir. I leave that for the Captain. I just appreciate it when they say 'Please' and 'Thank you' and 'I'm so sorry' when they toss me and my boys half-way across the moon. It's been hell trying to teach them any fighting moves when they're so freakin' strong. I got two men busted up and on medical leave right now, not countin' the Captain, and the rest of us is bruised from head to toe."

"Did you finally get a strength reading on this girl. Pam'ella's her name, right?"

"Goes by Ella. And no, not exactly. When I got to the exercise field yesterday, she and two of the other Saray'en were tossing that new practice rock back and forth. Right down the length of the field, all three hundred metrons of it."

"You mean the stone that you didn't think a Saray'en could even lift in a gold field?"

"The same one," the Sergeant nodded. "Eight hundred kilotons of solid iron, and bigger than our entire barracks. It took two Protectors to harvest it out of the asteroid field and a squadron of our largest ships to aerobrake it down to land here on Velor."

"And they were tossing it? Like a ball?" the Commandant asked, amazed. He stared back at the wall screen. The girl didn't look strong, that was for sure. "That's impossible," he mumbled.

"I tell you, I saw it. They stopped right when I got there, and I didn't get no picts, but it's all right as rain. Two of 'em were on one side and this girl Ella all by herself on the other. The other girls were working hard at it, but not Ella. She was one-handing it."

"Pretty impressive for her to challenge a couple of the other Saray'en that way," the Commandant mused.

"More than impressive. She's hiding something, Sir. Ella is. The men say there are rumors that she ain't got no Velorian genes at all. That she's pure Galen."

"Impossible, Sergeant. We don't have the technology to isolate the Galen genome that well."

"Tell that to the men, Sir. All I know is that as strange as the Saray'en are, this girl's completely different."

"Most of your men were raised to worship Skietra as an omnipotent being weren't they? As a Goddess."

"Most of 'em. My wife too, Sir. She's a Pentecostal Nav'ere, and so's most of my men. Trust me, it ain't exactly comfortable for the men to get these girls to fight with their fists, let alone blasting them with those Arion weapons. They call 'em Goddess half the time, least-wise behind my back they do. It got so bad with this Ella that I had to personally trigger all the weapons today. All the boys could do is stare at her all goggle-eyed, most of them falling to their knees to pray."

"How's your wife's Pastor taking it, Sergeant? Having a part-Galen in the congregation at your church, I mean. I understand your wife took this girl under her wing and brought her to church a few Sunday's ago."

"Pastor Saint'John fainted dead away, Sir. Specially after Ella here floated up to the ceiling and hung there in mid-air right over the altar during the prayers, the gold field and all. Seems as if she's a spitting image of the Goddess Skietra, or so the wife says."

"Just coincidence," the Commandant dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Skietra is a legend, a myth. Supposedly the Goddess who created the Velorian race. Nobody really believes that anymore."

"Don't say that to the missus. Besides, the Pastor says it's reincarnation or something. He's been buzzing around as if he's getting ready for the Final Coming, and wants the wife to bring Ella back this Sunday so he can put her in some big ceremony."

"Be careful, Dary'em. The last thing we need is to have people start worshipping these girls."

"Leastwise not in church, Sir. Already, the boys look right worshipful when Ella there walks into the room. I have to say that it affects me too. There is something about her, something bigger than any of us. Something wonderful."

Both men stared at the wall screen again. Beautiful was far too pale a word t describe this girl. They said nothing for a long minute, each man's thoughts his own.

The Commandant finally cleared his throat as he looked back at his old friend. "I'm need you to keep reminding the men that these girls are just Protectors, Dary'em. And keep Ella away from your Pastor and that church. The Council is already writing directives about keeping the Saray'en under wraps until they leave Velor. All we need is some religious revival meeting on the holo-view with everybody bowing and worshipping this girl and we'll be forced to train the Saray'en on one of the more remote moons."

"Bad enough already here in this gold field, Sir. I mean, my men are ready for most anything, most of 'em are P2 class, and I got a four women on staff now who're P1 but who didn't get selected for the Rites. They're all tough as nails and they got attitude and skill, especially in low-gold fields. But all together, they ain't a tenth as tough as this girl Ella."

"You're Ok with it though, Dary'em? Personally, I mean."

The Sergeant paused for a long moment. "Well, the missus has been reading the Book of Skietra to the kids at night, and I can't help but overhear. I guess there's some of us who wish there really was a Goddess or two left around. Leastwise if they could put an end to this long war."

The Commandant frowned as he watched his old friend staring longingly at the screen. He suddenly understood just how dangerous the situation was becoming. A half-dozen of these Saray'em were in training now, and if someone as tough and practical as Sergeant Dary'em was starting to react along religious lines, then he knew that the men must be feeling even more that way."

"Well, I wasn't raised in the church, Dary'em, so to me they're just another bunch of Protectors to train. Are we going to have a problem here?"

Dary'em blinked, and his blue eyes snapped back to meet the Commandant's. He stiffened slightly in his chair. "No, Sir. I'll work with the men and we'll not let it get in the way. The missus I can handle too." He paused and swallowed hard, glancing furtively at the screen. "But I can't speak for what the men think when they're off-duty. They been going to church a lot more than usual."

The Commandant turned and scribbled a notation on the electronic pad on his desk. In the future, he wanted all transfers into the unit to be agnostics or atheists. Wic'cans, Nav'ere's and Christ'lans were out. He paused and reconsidered that. Ok, Wic'cans, maybe. They at least knew how to deal with powerful women.

"Good. Now, let's go over the result of Ella's weapons testing."

"Right, Sir. Well, we started this morning with one of those new PAPP's we captured in the battle of the Ralp'el Asteroid Field. They're the ones that those Arion bastards used to punch holes through the asteroids and evacuate the miners' living quarters."

"Pulsed Anti-matter Plasma Projectors. Very nasty."

"Yeah. Rumors say they can punch holes through Arion battlecruisers too, shields up and all. I can't speak to that, but what I do know is that they can cut through a mile of rock. We tried them on Erin'dale and I figured if we took the time, we could have cut a hole all the way through to the core of that moon."

"I've see the holos, Sir. 'Bout how a short blast will incapacitate a fully empowered Protector. If they got trapped in that there beam, it would kill 'em pretty quick."

"Those Arion bastards. First the Tset'Lar, now this. They keep coming up with something new every few years. Apparently that colony of Vendorian weapons engineers they captured has been busy."

"Guess so, Sir. In any case, we managed to liberate one of these PAPP's after the Protector on Ralp'el took out their heavy cruiser, and we put the weapon into the training program here. A damn clever weapon it is. It uses a red plasma beam to protect the inner core of anti-matter from reacting to the atmosphere or any stray particles until it hits its target."

"So, how'd she do? Ella?"

"Sir, that little girl there just friggin' kneeled on the floor as I pulled the trigger and smiled at me. I used the same power I used to drill that mile into rock."

"Impossible. That kind of energy should have knocked her a kilometron away."

"No, Sir. It didn't do no such thing. She just turned to stare at the holo-camera like she was wondering when I was going to turn it on or something. So I pushed the power level upward to full, and it still didn't have no effect on her. Here, check the holo out."

He hit the button on the remote and the wall changed to a recorded holographic image of Ella staring into the camera. The Commandant stared in fascination as the red and yellow beam flashed across the room to strike the middle of her bared stomach. It was blindingly bright.

"We did the testing in a vacuum so we wouldn't get an anti-matter flare from the air, and she was wearing non-reactive Vitanium clothing. But as you can see, it barely tickled her."

"You're right about that look," the Commandant remarked. "She looks like she's expecting you to do something more with it."

"Sir, I plugged that girl from head to toe with that god-awful thing, front and back, but what you see here is about the extent of the reaction. The plasma heated her skin up like a star, but the anti-matter didn't have nothing to react with."

"So, she's perfectly invulnerable," the Commandant whispered as if to himself. "Like a true Galen supposedly is."

"Yeah. I showed the missus this shot, and that's when she kneeled down on the floor and started chanting about the Goddess Skietra and such. Hell, Sir, half that much anti-matter would have vaporized a Protector by the time I was done, sure as shooting. And that beam hurts the other Saray'en girls real bad."

"Too bad it's an Arion weapon. We could deploy it as part of a Virago's team."

"Not sure it would work much better against one of them dark-haired Tset'Lar, Sir."

"Don't worry. It's already been done, in a battle, and the Tset'Lar was killed."

Dary'em's heart surged. "Then there is hope for the Enlightenment after all, Sir. I mean, other than these Saray'en girls."

"There is always hope, Dary'em. So, what else did you try on her?"

"I had to get real creative with her, just trying to get a reaction. I mixed up some of the those Arion mini-nukes and some heavy GAR fire. Didn't do no good either." More images filled the screen. "See, she just soaks 'em up while staring back into the holo-cam. I swear she was asking for more or something."

"So you switched to the larger nukes?"

"Yeah, the city-killers. We must have blasted five hundred square kilometrons of the moon's surface to glass, but she just kept asking for more."

"So you gave up."

"No, Sir, I never give up. What I did was to salvo them nukes off like firecrackers, but she just grabbed them and tried to smother the bursts. Like she was enjoyin' it or something. Almost bored looking."

"Like she was sunbathing."

"'Cept those things is way hotter than any sun, Sir."

"What else," the Commandant asked, finding he was licking his lips as his body tensed. He'd never heard of such a powerful student.

"Well, we started hitting her from both sides at the same time, but still no dice, although when we moved to using those big suckers, the city-killers, she seemed to get into it. I mean, she at least got past the bored stage, what with trying to absorb the power and all."

The Commandant sat up straight in his chair, a funny feeling creeping into his bones as he saw the nuclear bursts spreading outward, only to be absorbed into her body before they did much damage. "I want you to keep this holo footage classified, Dary'em. I'm starting to agree with you that something isn't right here. Not right at all."

"Yes, Sir. I was kind of hoping you'd find out what it is. I, ah, I asked her to wait downstairs so's to meet with you after we're done."

"She's been sitting down in the lobby for the last hour?"

"Yes Sir. Like I said, she's a sweet girl. I think she's kinda fond of me, especially after I worked so hard to impress her today."

"Looks like you were the one who was impressed."

"Yes, Sir. Well, I gotta go batten down the hatches for the night. I'll send her up on my way down."

"Then go home and try to talk that missus of yours out of taking her to church and getting us booted off planet. Theology doesn't mix well with combat training."

"Let alone mythology. I know the drill, Sir. And thanks for listening. Not many officers appreciate the effect of these Galen's are starting to have on the men."

"They're Saray'en, Dary'em. Just Protectors with a few borrowed Galen genes tossed in. Remind the men of that."

"Yes Sir, but I'm not sure it'll make a difference with this girl. There's something about her. You'll see."

"Just send her up, Sergeant," the Commandant said formally, the frustration clear in his voice. "And let me be the judge of that. Dismissed."

"Yes, Sir," Dary'em saluted formally. "And may Skietra smile on you tonight."

The Commandant sank into his leather chair as he grimaced at the popular religious greeting. Dary'em had never said such a thing in his presence before. He slammed his fist angrily into his palm. Whatever the mystery was that surrounded the girl, he was going to get to the bottom of it, classified data or not. He didn't appreciate having anyone in his program with sealed records, especially a girl who was disturbing the men this way.

He punched the button to cycle through the girl's holo-images again, still disbelieving what he was seeing as burst after burst of nuclear annihilation washed over her body and then was absorbed. There was only one explanation to her complete invulnerability, but he wasn't going to leap into the arms of abandoning rational thought for religious superstition. He just wished he could access her genetic profile and find out what her ratio of Velorian to Galen genes were. 90:10 Velorian to Galen seemed to be the norm for the Saray'en, but some said they'd been working years ago on including twenty-percent Galen genes in one girl. He wondered if this girl was the one.

A soft knock on his door interrupted him. "Enter."

The door swung open to reveal the girl who's image was still on the wall display. She was still dressed as she'd been during her testing. Startled by that, he could only stare as she walked smoothly into the room and looked around, noticing the huge screen with her image running across it.

"Your men worked me over pretty good today, Commandant," she said with a nod toward the screen. "I thought they were going to hurt themselves. Either that or shatter this little moon."

The Commandant felt the tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristling as she talked. Her voice was so smooth, so melodious that it was like listening to music. Fear, arousal, frustration, desire, excitement -- a riot of unwanted emotions rushed through him as he looked into her oversized blue eyes. Swallowing hard as he worked to regain his equilibrium, he finally waved her toward the couch that decorated the center of his huge office.

"Have a seat over there, Ella. Sergeant Dary'em and I were just reviewing the results of your tests."

Ella turned to watch herself on the screen as a salvo of the larger nukes burst all around her, the holo-projector momentarily turning to white noise as it tried to render the scene in 3D.

The Commandant stared at her back, only to find that she was even more attractive in person than she was on the holo. Attractive and very, very tall, at least a head taller than he was. She turned slightly, and he found that her magnificent chest was still glowing faintly from absorbing the massive energies that had been exhausted against her body only hours before.

"Your Sergeant friend is beginning to become suspicious of me, Step'han. You're going to have to transfer him out of here along with that Captain you both don't like."

"What do you know about him?" the Commandant asked, startled. "And how do you know my birth name? Nobody has called me that in the last century. And Dary'em is a subordinate, not a friend."

She turned to stare into his eyes, a small smile on her lips. "I know many things, Step'han. First, that's the name you call yourself when you think. Second, Dary'em saved your life twice in the Clone Wars, and you still meet with him privately each week. Third, your wife and his are friends. Maybe a bit more than just friends. Fourth, you've been personally managing his career for years. Fifth, you bailed him out of a problem two years ago when one of the girls died in training and the Council blamed him. Sounds like something more than a work-place relationship to me."

"How could you..." the Commandant sputtered. "Nobody knows all that. Especially about my wife."

"Somebody does. You do."

"And what are you, a mind reader?"

"Yes."

"What? There aren't any genes for that in the Velorian DNA."

"Never said there were," she said as she settled into the overstuffed couch to cross her long and tanned legs. "But then, I'm not exactly a Velorian, am I?"

"The Council declared two years ago that the Saray'en were Velorians. Despite the minority of recombinant Galen genes."

"Then you openly admit that you've been illegally using Galen genetic material?"

"That's no secret, and you of all people should know it." He paused. "Wait a minute, you're the twenty-percenter, aren't you?"

"Good guess. But wrong girl. Her name is Zena'lar."

"Then I don't understand."

"Then you should listen to your men. In fact, your sergeant just tried to tell you in his own way, but you weren't listening."

"How could you know what we talked about?" the Commandant exclaimed. "This office is secure -- the walls are absolutely soundproofed."

"And so they are," Ella said looking around. "Pretty impressive actually." Her eyes came back to meet his. "But I can hear your thoughts a thousand metrons away."

"I don't understand. Only an Elder could do that."

"I'm hardly an Elder, Step'han. But Sergeant Dary'em's wife, she understands," Ella said as she rose to stand in front of his desk. "Her Pastor understood everything in a millisecond after he met me. Your Sergeant instinctively understands it too, but he's too disciplined to let himself think it. You would realize it too, if you would only open your heart and stop thinking with your head."

She startled him by walking around the desk, reaching down to take his hands in hers. An electric shock shot up his arms to suffuse his body, a shock that was just as quickly replaced with a burning sense of warmth that in turn softened into a soaring sense of absolute joy. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly as his body floated off the floor, the gold field around im seemingly nullified. A wild rush of rapture crashed over him like a tidal wave. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only stare into the bottomless wells of her big, blue eyes.

He was startled to hear himself laugh and then cry as his growing sense of rapture was suddenly caught in a hurricane of desire that rushed inward from all directions to stagger him. The rush of an impending orgasm washed him over the edge of a waterfall of erotic desire and his legs began to shake and grow weak, his body reacting like the experienced Velorian man that he was.

Ella tilted her head and smiled at him as she kneeled in front of him, giggling softly as his steely endowment tented his pants only millmetrons in front of her face. "Perhaps you should also get down on your knees before you fall and hurt yourself."

The Commandant sank to his knees as his heart beat painfully in his chest. A rushing noise filled his ears as a thrill of excitement more powerful than he'd ever felt before coursed through his body. His body shook wildly until she released his hands, his impending orgasm fading out at the last possible moment. He suddenly was filled with an impulse to laugh, to cry, to shout with joy, to tremble. To worship the beautiful woman in front of him.

"So, have you figured it out?" she said with the sweetest giggle he'd ever heard in a girl's voice. Her voice was like honey now, so sweet and sensuous that every word she spoke reached into the heart of his soul.

"You're, you're really not twenty percent, are you?" he gasped, struggling against the wild flurry of emotions to think.

She shook her head.

"Not sixty, not eighty, not ninety. You're... Oh Skietra," he cried. "It can't be true. It can't be."

"See. You do know my name after all."

"But... but you're dead," he cried as the rapture came upon him again. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he smiled, his heart bursting with joy. "All the Galen females. Gone. It is written."

"Oh, come on," she laughed, "not that old 'God is dead' thing again."

"But you are... you are..."

"As a Scribe on Terra once said, the rumors of my demise are a wee bit premature."

"But what about the white dwarf," he said, wondrous emotions and feelings of joy rushing at him from all directions, threatening to overwhelm his analytical mind. "It is written that the Galen females were drawn there. Trapped forever."

"That is a damn good cover story, wasn't it? My Professor's idea really. But it convinced you Supremis that you were in charge now and let me breathe some life into a few more races. Humanity is not the only class I'm taking this millennium."

"Classes? Breathing life?"

"Of course. My major at the university, Sentience, involves granting animals the ability to be self-aware."

"You made us sentient?" Step'han breathed, disbelieving. It was the most impossible thing he'd ever uttered. The most ridiculous, too. She was just a girl. The human race had been around for a million years.

"But true," she said as she smiled, listening to his racing thoughts and tasting his wild arousal. "The apes on Earth were my first project. I created humans out of them by giving them the spark of sentience and self-awareness, but I was very inexperienced then. My humans started fighting among themselves almost immediately, and that earned me an 'F' on the project. I had to stay back and repeat the class."

"Repeat it? You mean, create another human race?" Step'han's head felt as if it was going to burst. This wasn't written in any book, not even those that dealt with mythology.

"That's right. My project the next term was to do several hypotheticals on the theme of our race losing its ability to bear young and then solving that. I took the humans from Earth that looked the most like we Galen, the Scandinavians, and created you. The Velorians."

"We're just another... class project?" Step'han squeaked, uncomprehending. His world shrank inward, and his universe collapsed into the bright glow of her blue eyes.

"I got a 'B' for creating Velorians. At least, I did until my Professor came back and saw that you'd named yourselves the Supremis and had broken into two groups and were fighting over worlds of ordinary humans."

"But you've been gone for a thousand of years. Why return here, now?"

"You mean, besides cleaning things up from a dozen serious breaches of our Prime Directive? I'm here to salvage my grade and then graduate, of course."

Step'han stared at her uncomprehending. He felt like he was in a dream. A fantasy, perhaps even a nightmare of unprecedented dimensions. This couldn't be true. How could the entire meaning of humanity, of everything everyone ever born had ever strived for, how could all that be part of this girl's school project?

Skietra laughed at the look in his eyes and the horror of his racing thoughts. Then she remembered why she'd come, and her expression grew serious. "You've been playing God by using our genetic material to make your new warriors, Step'han. These Saray'en and the Tset'Lar." She wagged her finger at him. "Strictly against the rules. It's more than enough of an infraction for me to end the human race."

The Commandant blinked, and then felt a quick rush of anger washing over him. Goddess or not, he was used to being in charge. At the same time, he couldn't even begin to comprehend the magnitude of her outrageous threat. Destroy humanity? He daringly said what was on his mind. "Those were your rules, Skietra, the Prime Directive and all. We have our own now."

"My rules are the only ones that matter, although the interpretation does vary a bit in the holy books on a thousand worlds. But of all people, you Velorians know better than to be doing this. We gave you a sacred mission to protect humanity, and you decided to fight among yourselves instead. You enslave people, not uplift them."

"The Arions do that," Step'han growled, his anger surfacing long enough to embolden him, allowing him to push back the remainder of the rapturous thoughts. He forced himself to stare at her face, all the while reminding himself that she was just a pretty girl as he jerked his hands back from hers.

"Just a girl," she said, repeating his thoughts. "Perhaps. But I can be any girl I wish."

A flash of light surrounded her body, a light so bright that he was forced to close his eyes. When he opened them, an entirely different girl was standing before him. He leaped backward as he recognized her as an Arion, a deadly Tset'Lar based on her eyes.

"I could just as easily become you, Step'han. But this form will be a bit more useful for the moment."

"What are you going to do to me?" the Commandant asked fearfully, suddenly growing angry with himself when he heard the fear in his voice. Her dark hair and enlarged eyes were terrifying. As everyone knew, the Tset'Lar lived to kill his kind.

"You should be afraid Step'han. For I am far more dangerous than even this form would suggest. I haven't decided yet if I should destroy Velor and wipe your race and the Arions and even the humans from existence."

"You can't possibly do..." His voice trailed off as she reached out and took his hand in hers again. He felt himself shaking as another incredible rush of erotic warmth rushing up his arm. He tried to fight back, but felt himself losing the battle of his emotions.

"Look up there at the skylight. See the small moon, the one you call Erin'dor?"

He nodded, staring upward with glazed eyes, the surging imperative of his manhood nearly upon him. Once again, she took him to the very peak of his physical arousal, a second away from his release, and then paused. How she did that with only a touch was incomprehensible.

"Well, now you don't."

A spark of electricity seemed to leap across the room, and a bright flash and wave of incredible heat threw him away from her body as he suddenly slipped over the edge of the most manly of emotions. He cried out hoarsely while looking up with staring eyes, and saw a long, blinding flash of light shooting from her eyes, the beams reaching upward into the atmosphere. The distant moon suddenly flared as bright as his passion, and seconds later the core exploded like his passion to spread the shattered rock outward for ten thousand kilometrons in every direction. The sky was suddenly full of a million bright sparkles as the meteoroids raced into the atmosphere.

She released his hand and turned back to give him a little curtsy, a halo of sparks shrinking inward from around her head as her eyes grew dark again. "And you wondered where your heat vision came from. Impressed?"

Step'han stared dumbfounded into her dark blue eyes, and then back up at the fireworks that lit the night sky. Gasping for breath, he'd never felt a sexual release as powerful as that, his body's fireworks as great as that of the exploding Moon.

"I only gave you Velorians a touch of my abilities. Just enough to defend yourselves from non-human races, or so I thought. Instead, you used your gift against weaker humans. And now you threaten the balance of power, especially with these new Saray'en and Tset'Lar of yours."

She looked at her reflection in the windows. combing her fingers through her hair. "You know, I really like this darker hair. I hope you don't mind if I stay as a Tset'Lar for a bit?"

"Could I influence you if I wanted?" the Commandant said weakly, finally realizing that he was dealing with a Galen-born. He prayed that none of his men had been on that moon when it exploded.

"Prayer often works. And no, there weren't any of your people on that moon."

"What?" he gasped. "Prayer. That's such bull..."

"Shit," she finished with a laugh. "True, but prayer is a great myth. Actually, just a mental wish or two does the trick if I'm close enough. Otherwise, your fate is your own. But prayer is good for focusing the mind."

The Commandant's thoughts reeled from one side of possibility to the other and then back to the special truth that he'd always thought was mere mythology. He was truly talking to Skietra. The Goddess Skietra. That remarkable realization was chased away as a darker thought crossed his mind, one born of his long military training. This girl was incredibly dangerous.

He lifted his hand and reached toward the alarm button.

"And no, before you ask, even if you were to gather all the girls from your school, they wouldn't stand a chance against me. No sense getting them hurt."

The Commandant caught himself in mid-thought, and lowered his hand as he tried to think of anything else, anything except what he truly wanted to do. Which was to gain control of the situation again. He forced himself to envision the huge statue of Skietra that was in the city park.

"This form isn't a very good match for that statue, is it," she said, proving again that she could read his thoughts. "Not nearly shapely enough."

"You were just fine a few minutes ago."

"You liked that form? Good. It was my natural look."

Her body surged with light again, her form briefly turning transparent before it coalesced into Ella's form. She was again infinitely a Velorian blonde, and beautiful beyond description.

"Just a bit washed out, though, don't you think? Too blonde."

"Too beautiful," the Commandant heard himself breathe as she pulled her tiny white bottom up. "Like a true Goddess."

"And yes, before you ask, I did make your women in my image, mostly to keep the Galen men interested. My Professor thought that was a cute touch. He's got a thing for me when I take on this form, if the truth be known. So I gave him a few million women to ogle who looked just like me."

"But, the thing about you, about other Galen females being trapped or sterile, or..."

Ella laughed. "As I mentioned, all part of the class scenario. On the other hand, a Galen child born every ten millennia or so makes for slow population growth. And humanity changes so fast. A thousand of your generations fits into a single one of our generations." She forced herself to not say what she was thinking: "You change and evolve like fruit flies in a jar."

"That's hardly a flattering thing to someone who's members have the strength and power of thousands of ordinary humans."

"You've let your arrogance run away with you, Step'han. Your strength means nothing to me. I am a Goddess."

"Yet entire religions are based on worshipping you," the Commandant said reverently, still uncomprehending the gap between the fabled Goddess whose image was in every park, and worshipped in every church, and the teenage girl standing in front of him. A girl who had just claimed she was thousands upon thousands of years old. Millions. Perhaps billions.

"Every church worships me but the Christ'lans," she said as she finished one of this thoughts before he started it. "Takes all kinds, I guess. The Christ'lans have some good ideas though. I borrowed the 'turn the other cheek' thing from them once. Didn't work very well though."

"So you aren't a real Goddess?"

"Define Goddess and real? Your ancestors in the Norse, Greek and Roman civilizations on Terra used to worship your kind, Step'han, yet you weren't gods. So why not have your people worship me? I mean, I did create you."

"You engineered us. Just like we do today. You had to start with something. With those apes on Earth. Right?"

Skietra smiled, and Step'han felt as if his world had just dawned. She was so beautiful that her smile threatened to wash away his world in a blaze of light. "Very good, Step'han Truly, I can't create life. Someone came along ahead of us and did that. Someone so mighty that even we Galen can't figure him out. Or her."

Step'han had a sudden bold and daring thought. "So what if I choose not to worship you? To worship no one? Not even the ones who came before you."

"That's easy. Then we can be friends instead. That's why I chose you, by the way. Because you didn't believe in me."

"You are going to break a lot of hearts and souls," the Commandant replied, a touch of a smile tilting his lips. "The faithful believe that they will be rewarded for their devotion with your presence and grace. That you will greet them in heaven."

"I know, they have such... intense ideas. But that's what makes it so hard to communicate with them. It's hard to have a debate with people who are kneeling at your feet and chanting verses and who think I'm omnipotent." She paused to smile brighter at him. "I have to say, you got past that awkward part really fast. You've already perceived my limitations, and you are thinking about me as if I was just a more powerful woman. Most people of faith never reach that point. They fall into the trap of mindless worship."

"Thank, Skiet..." he started to say reflexively, and then caught himself.

"You're welcome anyway."

"This is going to be most interesting," he laughed nervously, "dealing with you, I mean. I assume you're going to stay in the school? In my school, not just your, you know, other one."

"For a while. I need to figure out what to do with you, and I want to get to know you before I do anything hasty. Besides, as I said, I need to fix things here so I can graduate."

"Still thinking of wiping out humanity?"

"Yes, I am, but then I'd have to do another thesis to graduate. Even if I did, I'd probably leave the Terrans alone. They were the first sentients I made, and they are still such innocents. I'm very fond of them."

"So, if destroying the Supremis race is first on your wish list," he dared to ask as he straightened up and faced her boldly, hardly believing the conversation he was having. "What's second."

"Ah, you're also a man who can think under stress. I chose you well. Let me see. I guess second would be to destroy all the Saray'en and Tset'Lar and remove all traces of my DNA from your people. Of course, then you'd be as powerless as we made the Terrans."

"I don't like either of those choices. Can we work on a third? I have some suggestions."

Skietra laughed. "Negotiating with the Supreme Being are you?"

"No, I'm discussing options with a girl who is still a student in my school. Just be aware that if you decide to remain, I make the rules here. I'll leave the rest of the universe to you."

Skietra laughed again, the sound like that of a falling brook in winter, the tinkle of ice shattering, yet a strangely warm laugh. "Oh, this is fun." She suddenly stuck out her hand. "Ok, it's a deal."

He hesitated before taking hers, and then took it boldly, enjoying the now familiar wave of sexual arousal race through his body as he touched her skin. He quickly tried to pull his hand back to get himself under control, but she startled him by sitting down in his lap, straddling him with her bare legs, lifting her arms to rest them on his shoulders. He stared up at her pouting lips, wanting to kiss her, but knowing he would fall completely into her power if he dared. Instead, he gathered all his energies, and summoned all his will-power as he managed, barely, to maintain his dignity.

She leaned close to his ear, her sweet, warm breath washing over him. "If you could have one wish, Step'han, any wish at all, right this moment, a wish I would have to fulfill, what would you ask for?"

He answered without thinking. "Wipe out the Arion Empire. End the war. Save all of humanity from them."

"Ok." She snapped her fingers. "Done."

"What!" he cried out, his eyes opening wide. "You didn't? Billions of people, dead, gone?"

"You didn't like them anyway. Your men wanted peace. Now they have it."

"No, not this way, Skietra," he gasped, his voice suddenly urgent as he tried to sit up, his arousal evaporating. "I wasn't serious."

"Too late to change your mind. Don't worry, there were only seven billion of them. A drop in the bucket."

"Oh Skietra," he groaned. "They were the the enemy, but they were human too. Twisted yes, but each with their own life, their own soul."

"Well, you just learned the first rule of dealing with a Goddess: be careful what you ask for."

"Bullshit," he suddenly heard himself shout as he struggled to push her away, half of his brain still intoxicated with her beauty, the other half now horrified, both sides of his brain struggling frantically to think. "Nobody could do that while just standing right here. Not even Skietra herself."

Ella laughed and hugged him tighter, the touch of her skin against his sending another rapturous rush of energy through his body. Rapture that quickly turned back to arousal. "Damn, I can't fool you for even a moment. And your libido is so hard to control."

"So they're Ok?" Step'han asked as he tried to breathe. He was amazed that he hadn't lost his dignity, or his self-control.

"Of course.I don't really have magical powers, just some very advanced genetic manipulation skills. It would take me the better part of a year to wipe out their thousand or so planets. You see, other than my mental tricks and my shapechanging, my powers are purely physical, just like yours."

"But far greater."

She nodded. "True. Another Terran writer, I like them if you haven't noticed, said that any sufficiently advanced race would appear among humans, a race that appeared to wield magic, then they'd be worshiped as gods. I guess that makes me a Goddess."

"We couldn't stop you even if you wished to bring an end to all of humanity?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "I made you, I could destroy you. My decision completely."

Step'han clenched his teeth and reached out to rest his hand on her bared thigh. He stiffened as he found he had to again use every ounce of his willpower to resist the increasing surge of sexual energy that filled him. "So, what's next?" he gasped.

She leaned forward again, her blonde hair falling over him to turn his world golden. He felt her lips brushing across his forehead.

He stiffened beneath her and gasped for air as his body boiled like a whistling teapot. He suddenly knew what his second wish would be if she granted him but one more.

"I'm going to take a half of one of your years to make my decision. I'll finish your program in two months, Step'han, and then I'll take an assignment with the Enlightenment. That should give me plenty of time to decide what you've been up to since I left this galaxy."

"And if we can convince you that we aren't totally corrupt?" he gasped for breath.

"Then you live. And maybe I'll even give you a gift or two if I like what I see."

"And if you don't?"

"You already know that answer. Remember that little moon you used to have up there?" she pointed at the ceiling. "Velor would be a bit tougher, but not all that difficult."

"So how do I fit into this?"

"You and I will meet each week, and I'll tell you what I've found. You can try to correct any mistakes in my perceptions about your abuse of the Prime Directive. Fundamentally, you will be the one who argues mankind's case." She smiled, her eyes sparkling as if the sun had just come out. "And you'll do a little something more for me while you're at it."

He was shocked at that moment to find that her clothing had just vanished. He felt her fingers slipping under the waistband of his pants, not unbuttoning them, but rather gently tearing them open, revealing him. Her tightly smooth buttocks settled into his lap as her hand encircled him to discover that he was more of a man than he'd ever been before. She gasped in excitement as her hand familiarly caressed the Velorian magnificence of him, and the wild thought crossed his mind that she'd created all aspects of the Velorian race, including the supremely loving tool she now held. Created it for her own use. He yielding himself to her, and she took him as if it was her right. He certainly felt it was his honor as she rose to position herself over him, guiding him to the warm wetness of a Goddess' desire. She rewarded him by gently wrapping her long arms around his neck to guide his face into her ample bosom, the touch of Galen softness filling his body with the most intense energies. He'd never felt so vital, so indefatigable, so aroused and so warm. So ready.

"Even a Goddess gets lonely at times," she murmured in his ear. "And I did have a plan in mind when I made you Velorians the way I did. A very private plan."

"What kind of plan?" Step'han gasped, knowing the answer, but wanting her to say it. He marveled at the depths of her feminine softness as she teased him with her moistening desire. Gently parting herself with his steel, taking him partly, she would pull back, tempting him, not satiating him, and in so doing filling his body with invigorating waves of erotic strength that released all of his ultimate strength.

A strength that suddenly multiplied by ten.

Impossibly, she'd just nullified the gold field around him!

His surging vitality manifested itself as it did with all men, and he was suddenly the most super of men, his steel rising even further.

"This kind of plan." Before he could say a word, she lowered herself fully over the steel she'd created, her crafts both genetic and loving.

He reacted like only a Velorian man outside a gold field can, and proudly thrust himself upward to fill her body with the power and size that Messengers were legendary for across the width and breadth of the galaxy. A burst of energetic power exploded inside him like a small bomb, and his mind was filled with a burst of fireworks that blinded him to anything but the golden glow of her hair. He blinked, and suddenly saw the vastness of the galaxy opening before him, a million worlds revealed in all their intimate detail. He was standing at the core, looking outward, embracing even the most far flung of worlds in his arms. He realized with a start that Skietra had stood on each and every one of those worlds, she'd tasted the energy of each of the multi-colored suns. He found himself intimately connected to her mind as well as her body now, sensing her thoughts just as she'd sensed his before. The thoughts and memories of a Goddess.

"Perhaps someday people will remember you as the savior of all mankind," she whispered throatily in his ear as she thrilled to his athletic passion, holding him so deeply inside herself, needing him more than she'd imagined she would. She'd been young and needy when she'd first created the Supremis, and not even her Professor knew of the energetic loving skills she'd built into every one of her creations. The power to release sun-like energies during the ultimate throws of passion. Energy she hungered for now. Galen power.

Step'han responded to the frantic motions of her body, to the velvet wetness of her tightly warm embrace, and lost all control of his passion and strength, holding nothing back. Like his gasping breath, her breathing suddenly grew fast and shallow as her passion soared upward in tune with his, their bodies connecting in ways that only a Goddess and her creation could.

They quickly cried out in unison, the force of their voices shattering windows and ripping his office door off its hinges. Yet it was the blaze of nuclear fire that followed it that did the most damage, blowing the top floor of the building off in a shower of sparks that rained down for a ten block radius. Everyone looked up to see a pillar of loving fire burning sun-like, pushing aside the gathering darkness of the day, bringing light back to the Enlightenment, revealing to all that there was still hope for both mankind and it's more empowered progeny, the Velorians.

Their Goddess had returned.

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