Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One (82 page)

“Good,” Mikhail
snorted satisfaction.

“Mikhail,” Needa's
dark eyes were filled with worry.  “You'd better watch your back with that
young man.  If he ever has the chance to strike at you, he will.”

“I know,” Mikhail
said.

“At least the Chief is
no longer in denial that he has a problem on his hands,” Ninsianna said.

Mikhail neatly tucked
the errant thought that darted through his mind away in that place he sent
all
unhelpful thoughts that would do more harm than good to brood about. 
Occasionally he wished he'd smote the skulking peacock that night Jamin had
attacked his ship.  Had he done it then, killing him would have been
justified.  Unfortunately, killing the Chief’s son would have barred him from
joining this village, now
his
village.  As Ninsianna liked to always
remind him, She-who-is was wise in her foresight.  

Dinner finished with
small talk about things that had gone on while they were absent.  Needa talked
about how the crops fared and who had gotten sick while they were gone. 
Mikhail talked about the dream house he wished to build for Ninsianna. 
Ninsianna and her father bounced ideas for transforming the disorganized
villagers into a respectable fighting force.  The next time raiders attacked
the village, they would be better prepared. 

Eager to turn in for
an early night, Mikhail grabbed his blushing bride by the hand, bid her parents
goodnight, and dragged her upstairs, trying very hard not to be
too
loud
as he thumped his wings against the wall.

~ * ~ * ~
* ~ * ~

Galactic Standard Date:  152,323.08 AE

Alliance Territory

Centauri Cavalry General Kunopegos

Kunopegos

He looked
down
on
the Prime Minister.  Literally.  General Kunopegos, the four-star general who
commanded the Centauri Calvary, towered over the slender Angelic by nearly
twice his height.  He used that height difference
now
to communicate how
displeased he was with whatever stunt Lucifer was trying to pull..

“You said you had a
solution to my problem!” General Kunopegos growled.  “How in Hades am I
supposed to reproduce with
that
?  She’s one-tenth my size!”  Crossing
his muscular arms in front of his barrel chest he glowered down at the Alliance
Prime Minister, his hooves clopping angrily against the deck

“Very carefully,”
Lucifer waved his hand as though it was merely a trifle.  “But after a human
female has given birth the first time, they are physically capable of being a
bit more, how shall I put it delicately?  Accommodating.  If you prefer, we
have the technology to impregnate her artificially.  Either way, your foal will
need to be harvested 11 weeks early and spend time in an incubator.”

“I don't like the
thought of my foal spending time in an incubator,” Kunopegos said.

“Well … if you want to
keep trying the Emperor’s way …” Lucifer trailed off, flipping one hand to the
side as though to say, ‘whatever.’

In fact, every aspect
of Lucifer’s demeanor said ‘whatever.’  Kunopegos had served the Alliance and,
by default, Lucifer, for a very long time.  Lucifer had always been a ladies
man.  A bit of a peacock.  Masterfully playing both sides against the middle
like one of his adopted father's infamous games of chess.  But never had he
seen their highest elected official act outright … chilling. 

All the fruitless
mating attempts he'd tried over the years replayed in Kunopegos mind.  The
filly he'd adored and asked to secretly marry him all those years ago in
defiance of the 'be fruitful and multiply' decree.  She'd abandoned him after
the sixth mating attempt had failed.  The humiliation of being blacklisted, his
name available for any mare who wished to inquire as being a risky candidate. 
The way mares paid him a wide berth whenever they started to come into a heat
cycle, avoiding him so they didn't have to tell their commanding officer 'no.' 

“I’ve tried every
solution and it’s failed!”  Kunopegos thumped his fist upon the table.  “Ever
since I was blacklisted, females won’t go for a romp in the pasture!  Even when
they're
not
in heat!”   His eyes drifted back to the tiny female Lucifer
had brought on board with him, clad in a shapeless garment that covered her
from the top of her head down to her toes, tiny even by Angelic standards.  She
looked more like a child's doll than somebody he should be considering a mating
attempt with.

“Many foals are
naturally born premature,” Lucifer reassured him.  “And spend time in an
incubator with no ill effect.  I mean … look at her.  She is smaller than you
are.  If you want to beget a foal upon her, you're going to have to make a few
accommodations.”

“Why can’t the Emperor
just rear them in an incubator from scratch?” Kunopegos lamented.  "That
seemed to work just fine for some of the lesser species he tinkered
with?"  Kunopegos would know.  He'd personally helped the Emperor reseed
planets with interesting life forms over his five hundred plus years as a
Centauri cavalry officer.  For some reason even the Emperor couldn't understand,
the more sentient species became, the lower the success rate of artificial
insemination and incubation.

“The Emperor has not
been able to reproduce some critical element of the early gestational period,”
Lucifer said.  “We can help the little foals along who arrive too early, but we
can't replace their mother.  Superior races can only reproduce naturally.”

Kunopegos turned the
information over in his mind, still considering whether he should quietly ask
one of his lower-ranking officers to manufacture a fake distress call so he
would have an excuse to get the heck out of there without ticking off the
Emperor's son, or should he seriously consider what Lucifer proposed?

“So … is this one an
experienced brood mare?  Or a filly?”

“This one is a filly,
I'm afraid.”  Lucifer's blue eyes gleamed as though he found that thought to be
exciting.  “You'll have to be careful the first time you mate with her so that
you don't damage her.”

An untried filly? 
Would be willing to mate?  With
him?

“I'd feel a little
better if I knew she was already … accommodating,” Kunopegos said
apprehensively, shoving his libido back where it belonged.  “I'm afraid I'll
hurt her.  Don't you have any mares that are maybe a little more …
experienced?”

“Human females prefer
to stay with one stallion and rear their foals in a herd,” Lucifer said. 
“Unless a mare is widowed young.  Let’s just say there are few mares willing to
leave their families.  It's a filly.  Or nothing at all.”

“They stay with their
stallions and rear their own foals?” Kunopegos asked.  “You mean they don't
just drop them off at the nearest youth training academy like Centauri mares
do?”

“No,” Lucifer said. 
“Humans are herd animals.  They stick together.”

As Lucifer spoke,
images of galloping through the ship's pasture with a handsome bay colt with
his
eyes pranced through Kunopegos mind.  On his back, the doll-like female sat
nursing a newborn filly with
his
chestnut coat and
her
unusual
almond-shaped eyes.  They ran off together into the sunset, a stallion and his
herd, the way his ancestors had once reared their families.

“So how do I do this?”
Kunopegos asked.  “Go into a stall with a dirty magazine and hand a vial over
to my chief medical officer?”

“No, no…” Lucifer
said.  “Engaging in actual intercourse with a male as large as you her first
time might prove uncomfortable.  But she has been trained to pleasure you in
other ways.  Once she has gathered certain … how shall we put it … crucial
elements, my laboratory technicians will take care of the rest.  I timed this visit
for her peak fertility.  You should know whether or not the mating is
successful within three days.”

“And what do
you
want in return?”  Kunopegos eyed Lucifer with skepticism.  The Alliance Prime
Minister was like
all
politicians.  He rarely granted favors without
wanting something in return. 

“My father has had the
solution to our dilemma all along,” Lucifer clucked.  “And kept it from us.  He
would rather let us die out rather than break his silly prohibition about seed
worlds.”

As Lucifer spoke, a
recurring nightmare Kunopegos had experienced ever since he'd been blacklisted
replayed in his mind.  He was running through a pasture on a planet someplace,
chasing a herd that he knew was headed for a cliff.  He called out to them,
again and again, begging them to stop, but the entire herd simply kept going
the direction they were going until they reached the cliff.  He got to the
cliff and looked down at countless broken Centauri bodies, all smashed upon the
rocks below.  He always woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing at the terror
of finding himself the last of his species.

“The Emperor has known
where they were all along?” Steel-clad hooves clanged against the deck.  “Why
hasn’t he brought the solution forward earlier?  I've been banging my head against
the wall for more than 500 years!!!”

“Hashem was not the
one who brought them forward,” Lucifer said.  “Shay’tan did.  My father ceded
that world to Shay’tan millennia ago.  Shay’tan would like to … how shall I put
it?  Tweak my father’s nose by opening up the human homeworld to trade.”

“Hashem is really
going to let us die out?”  Kunopegos felt as though somebody had just shot him
out the airlock of his own command carrier.  No.  It
couldn't
be true!

“He has ordered
commanders to start promoting the newer sentient races into positions
we
used
to hold,” Lucifer said, his words curiously devoid of emotion given how
passionate the Prime Minister usually was on this subject.  “We are being
replaced.”

Kunopegos heart sunk
down to his hooves.  It
was
true.  The evidence had been staring him in
the face all along and he'd been in denial about it.  He glanced up at the
Prime Minister and shivered.  Lucifer’s cold, silver-blue eyes glittered with
some emotion?  Anger?  No … satisfaction.  The Prime Minister had the look of a
man who'd just won a large wager. 

“I received the
promotion order,” Kunopegos said.  “I heard General Jophiel threatened to quit
if the Emperor didn't make some concessions with his insane breeding program.”

 “The Emperor omitted
the fact he's been hiding the root race,” Lucifer said.  “Do you really trust
his explanation now?”

“So what do you
want?”  Kunopegos pointed at the tiny female.  "If I accept this
gift?"

“Just keep her
existence a secret,” Lucifer said.  “That's all.  Until I have a chance to move
the rest of my chess pieces into position."

"I refuse to
participate in a rebellion," Kunopegos growled.  "We all saw what
happened to the
last
hybrid who tried that stunt."  Kunopegos
didn't add that the hybrid in question had been none other than Lucifer's
biological father.

I'm only going to
petition Parliament to open the human homeworld to trade," Lucifer
pooh-poohed, "but it will take time to build support for an override. 
It's important we hybrids speak in one voice to let the Emperor know we will
not allow ourselves be marginalized into extinction.”

“In Parliament…”
Kunopegos said with a grunt.  “I'll not go supporting an armed uprising.”

“Of course not,”
Lucifer said.  “I wouldn't ask you to.  He is, after all, my father.  Now …
would you like to meet your new mate?” 

The two burly Angelics
who perpetually shadowed Lucifer dragged the female forward.  She seemed a
little off-kilter, as though she'd been drugged.  She stood there as docile as
an old brood mare suckling her last foal, however, allowing him to canter
around her and examine her from every angle instead of screeching like
most
humanoids
did upon being towered over by a Centauri stallion.

“Her hair is so black
… and her skin olive.”  Kunopegos felt how thick and coarse her hair felt, like
his
hair, only straight instead of curly.  “Why are her eyes
almond-shaped?”