They went silent and his foot steps in the dirt, his sweat dripping down his body, his breathing all were loud in the hushed silence. His opponent's footsteps could be heard, a slight hesitation as he drew the sword, discarding the blaster.
Soon, the noise from the crowd began again as Maker stood his ground, letting his opponent believe he had the advantage. His opponent knew nothing of his weapon except he had been able to deflect a bolt from a powered weapon.
The champion struck and Harry evaded, kicking him in the side and knocking him to the ground. He shut the blade off and knelt on the ground, waiting. The champion got to his feet and attacked again, not believing the Emperor truly was the most powerful Warlock on Terra. Not believing in Magic, period.
When the ground rose up like jaws, pinning him between teeth of dirt, his disbelief was torn away as Maker's blade ignited and spun out of his hands towards the champion. He died instantly as the blade went through his chest, cauterizing a ten millimeter hole through his heart, instantly stopping it, then sliding out the side and flying back towards .
He stood, looked around the immense arena, then raised his arm. The crowds began cheering. Even though gladiatorial games were a violent pastime, the wars of the future had turned into brutal one-on-one competitions that had become spectator sports. His lightsaber shut off and he turned, heading towards the Ambassador from the Tra'Tor system. He snatched a patch off his opponent's shirtsleeve then dropped it on the ground in front of the Ambassador. "Welcome back to the Empire."
He turned and Disapparated.
As he walked through the gardens and back into the palace, the people celebrated their victory over the traitors.
Hinata studied the display panel as Brianna walked onto the bridge. The droids around the ship had been sent to one of the docking bays and then ordered to disable each other. Now they were the only moving things on the ship. Hinata adjusted the lightsaber on her belt then asked, "Where are the Masters?"
"Liv'n'Stun is getting some UV in the ship. Kirbee's making his lunch. What's the time to intercept?"
"Thirty three hours. Who do you think the Emperor will marry? One of the daughters of a great house?" The homes of the more affluent were called great houses though anyone with a modicum of magical talent could have a home as wealthy seeming.
Brianna shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. As long as one of his progeny can take the throne. Every Fremen can see how uncomfortable he is with that crown. Here, I brought you some stew."
"Thanks," Hinata murmured as she blew on the cup it was in. She took a sip and smiled. A thick seafood stew with spicy sausage in it. One of her favorites.
"Do you want to duel?" Brianna asked. "When you're done eating, that is."
"Sure. What?"
"Hand-to-hand. Hey. What's this?" She bent over the panel then tapped out a sequence. The huge display no longer showed the fleet moving towards them but a face. Both women brought their masks up as Brianna stood and stepped into the center of the focus of the lens.
"Admiral Shiva. This is Fremen one-three-three-seven. How may I be of service?"
"Ah, Fremen. We just came within hailing distance in the past few moments. Is everything all right?"
"Yes, Admiral. We're just waiting for you."
"Excellent. The fleet will be their in less than thirty-six hours." He saluted since she technically outranked him on this mission then said, "For the Empire."
She returned the salute, fist clenched and brought to her left shoulder then unclenched and brought down to her waist. Picture perfect and her voice cracked out, "For the Empire."
The screen shut off and she pulled her mask down. "He's kinda cute."
Hinata wrinkled her nose and said, "He's old."
"So's the Emperor and I know you have a crush on him."
Hinata blushed and said, "That's different. He doesn't age. And I spent years with him as my instructor. Girls are supposed to get crushes on their instructors. It helps them decide on their types as they grow older."
"Sure," Brianna drawled as Hinata hid her face behind the mug.
Maker waved his hand and the Ministers bowed then backed out as he brought his chin to his hand and looked down at the floor, watching a fish under the ice swim in a circle, trying to get at a bug trapped inside the ice. He smiled and stood, his armor chiming as he stretched. For once, there wasn't anything to do. The Empire was running smoothly, there had been no supplicants, and everything was running on its own impetus.
He strode to a huge screen and tapped a sequence on it. A movie began playing and he walked back to the throne then got comfortable as hundreds of men performed an intricate ballet as Titus Andronicus made his return to Rome.
He was nearing the end of the movie when a messenger walked in, took a look at the screen, then made his way to Maker's side.
Harry looked at the file and nodded. The messenger left and Harry made a motion with his hand. The screen froze then faded to an image of space from a Lunar observation post. Earth was large in the frame and looked like an exquisite jewel.
"Bring me Mechanic."
He stood again and this time his armor pulled itself into the throne. He walked into his private quarters and leisurely changed into a flight uniform then walked out, tapping the datapad strapped to his thigh. He was halfway to the throne when a silver and black blur rushed towards him. He was pulled off the ground in a bear hug then the droid set him down. The droid was one of a kind. A humaniform. It was the only droid in the Empire that looked, sounded, and acted human aside from its silver chassis. The color could have been done to simulate flesh but the droid, Mechanic, had never wanted to. He was happy doing what he did best, designing fighters and building them. While most were never flown, he didn't care. As long as his art was appreciated, he was happy.
"Sire, they told me you left the planet but you didn't take any of my ships."
"I was teaching. There was no need for a fighter but there is now. Feel like threading the needle?"
"Always. Would you like to see my newest designs?"
"How many are there?"
"Two hundred seventeen but only twelve have been produced so far."
Harry smiled and tapped the datapad again, this time in a purposeful sequence. A set of rings surrounded them then they were gone with a flash of green light. The rings arrived in a cavern that had been carved from volcanic rock. A flickering screen filled the immense opening, a hologram hiding the fighter bay. Robotic arms and droids built fighter designs as dictated by Mechanic.
Harry had found the droid mostly destroyed and had been filled with an urge to repair him. When he had done so, he had made a friend for life, literally. Undergoing upgrades every few years, the droid had been with Harry for years until designing a chassis for himself that would allow him to fly the fighters he designed.
While most of the models ended up in an immense war museum, many were used as the basis for upgrades to the fighters in production while two had been the prototypes for fighters currently in use by the Empire.
"So, still keeping the layouts the same?"
"Yes and no. I decided that reaction time would be better situated using the implant relays for humans but left in the original control layouts for when the relay is damaged or in use by non-upgraded humans."
Harry nodded and said, "Show me the love."
Mechanic grinned and began showing off the ships. Some were designed for atmospheric flight with wings and jet propulsion while others were designed to use repulsors to antigrav panels. One looked like an immense needle. They come to the last and Harry was somewhat surprised. It resembled the Harrier Jump Jets of his youth.
"Ah, thought you might recognize this. It's been redesigned fully. I think you'll like."
Harry floated off the ground and looked into the open cockpit. It had a stick like the fighters he remembered but the controls were very different. Holo-emitters and implant relays studded the surfaces. He lowered himself into the seat then looked it over, familiarizing it all over.
Mechanic extended himself via an accordion-like pleat in his midsection and handed Harry a helmet. "So, let's thread that needle again, eh?"
"This has variable sweep wings? Why?" They didn't seem needed or even a pleasant idea for a ship like the Harrier.
"Better flying when in space. Sire, we have clearance."
Harry nodded, plugged his helmet into the HUD and took a deep breath. Flying a new fighter was a bad idea without a few hours in a simulator but Harry didn't care at the moment. He knew that Mechanic could easily eject while he would survive. Even if he died.
The fighter had jet engines still though modified for every type of atmospheric flight. It could literally go from space, to air, to sea, then to nebula cruising. Like all the fighters in the Imperial Navy.
"Has this been modified for negative pressure?"
"Of course, Sire. It'll reach mach 30 in space, mach eighteen in Terra's atmosphere and unknown in water. Haven't had time to test it other than sims. I mean, I have tested it under water, just not in the sea."
Harry understood what the droid meant and pushed the ignition panels. The fighter leapt forward like a cheetah after prey though no cheetah could go from zero to mach one in three seconds like they just had.
Harry jerked the stick a few times to get used to reaction times then closed his eyes for a moment and dove. The Force showed him how far he was from the ground and he pulled out in a shallow dive. Mechanic said nothing, reading displays and monitoring engine temps as he watched other data from the ship's AI as it interfaced with Harry's mind.
Harry looked at the hologram showing his free flight zone and pulled the stick, aiming them straight upwards. As he pressed the afterburners forward, the negative pressure unit fought to keep the gravity force normal as they pushed past the barrier between atmosphere and space.
He shifted to avoid a satellite then triggered the IFF code for the Imperial shuttles. As he flew, he remembered his first trip into space. He had been the pilot aboard a sleeper ship. Instead of having a pilot who had to awake once a year to check their course, Harry had taken the position under a new identity and had spent the two hundred seventeen years awake talking to the computer's minimal AI and repairing this and that as well as learning. For the ten thousand colonists, a copy of every book ever written had been placed in three different computers each with three backups. By the time the trip was over, Harry had gained enough knowledge to have been able to do anything he wanted. Anything from Archeology to Zoology, he had studied and absorbed knowledge until he felt like a dictionary at times. He had learned how to code and had begun coding an AI in his one hundredth twenty ninth year aboard. Thirteen years later, the AI had come online and in sixteen days, had become conscious. The ship's AI was reformatted and Lily became the new AI of the ship. From then on, she had become his teacher, helping him learn more and he became hers, helping her learn about consciousness.
He sighed, trying to think about flying as he began a reentry into the atmosphere. Lily had died when the power consumption needs had taxed Harry's magic abilities and the generators beyond the capacity to warm the colonists and keep the AI running.
He banked the fighter in maneuvers that would have destroyed it and killed the pilot before the invention of negative pressure baffles and magically strengthened alloys. He checked his angle of descent then smiled. "How about a detour? Hogwarts is in the direct path."
"Fine with me, Sire. I've never been there."
"Alright." Harry banked to the left and began a steep corkscrew descent as he cut the power to the engines and brought it in on the antigrav units.
Within minutes, they landed on a concession to the more muggleborns that went there; a basketball court. Harry looked out at the students looking at the fighter then waved his hand in an intricate form. His flight suit and helmet shifted into his armor and he hit the canopy release.
Students began bowing when they recognized him as he floated down from the cockpit. Mechanic complained about magic being used to move him until he was on the ground. Though the droid built and maintained ships that were eventually imbued with magic, he still wasn't happy about it being used near him. Too much and his processors slowed to nearly fifty percent. Even with the shielding Harry and other mages had painstakingly crafted, magic could be an insidious pest around electronics.
The headmaster, a man in his late fifties named Orin Darkstalker, came out and bowed deeply then said, "It's an honor to have your august personage deign to gift us with a visit."
"Knock it off, Orin," Maker said, grinning behind his helmet.
Orin grinned. He was a blood Potter though his mother had married a man named Darkstalker.
"Why are you here, Gramps?"
Harry scowled at the name then smiled as a young girl raced from the front door and leapt at him. "Grandpa."
"Hey, princess." She smiled and began kissing his cheeks once his mask was tilted up. "I'd forgotten you were coming to school this year."
He held on to her as he walked with Orin to the front doors as other Potter children came up to say hello, some shyly because they had only met him once or twice, others with greater gusto since they had lived in the palace or spent more time there. "How many of the blood are there in Hogwarts now?"
Orin grinned behind his beard. "Better to ask how few are not of the blood. Thirty three. Next year, it will be only three. After that, unless some people change schools, all students will be of the blood and one staff member won't be."
Harry almost dropped Sharia. He set her down and said, "Run along, dear. I need to talk to Orin. Send me some letters, alright?"
She nodded and ran off to join her friends. "That many? Bloody hell."
"It's been a thousand generations and the blood traveled well. Something like sixty-two percent of the inhabitants of Eurasia have some drop of blood. It's well distributed enough that there won't be any bad crossovers but you've seen the effects yourself. Mind magicks, healing, and overall power is up beyond what the scientists all projected it to be three thousand years ago. Even with some Potters leaving Terra, marrying a Potter or even just having a Potter child in the family is an honor. Hell, your enemies from childhood have Potter blood in them. Lucretia Malfoy has green eyes, red hair, and a mastery of healing abilities. She's also in Gryffindor."
Harry Potter stood across from the Politburo Standing Committee of the Communist Party of China. All nine men stared him in the eyes as they looked at him with fear and hate. Their guards lay dead, their own weapons' bullets their death.
He raised his arms and removed his helmet then looked between each one, his long hair snarled from being inside the helmet for nearly seventy-two hours. China's magical community had pledged their loyalty on one condition. The absolute destruction of the Communists in command of their country. He had been more than willing.
The door behind him flung open again and he spun around, his wand in his hand. A whispered spell and the soldiers were frozen in place, their bodies slowly turning to lead. He turned back to the men and spoke softly in flawless Guoyu, his voice barely above a whisper, though clear in its intent. "Mercy is for the weak. We do not train to be merciful. A man faces you. He is the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy." Harry parroted back the exact words they had spoken to the representative of the Chinese Wizards Council before they had had his family executed.
His hands and wand began an intricate dance. As they tried to escape they found skeletal hands, stinking of brimstone had them held in place as the spells were woven. Soon, their bones and skin began to crack and they screamed in pain. Over the decades, the Communists had used what Wizards and Witches they could catch as Pawns. Harry planned to turn them into Pawns themselves.
Soon, their bodies began to shift and morph until each one was lead, revealing where skin had split or bones erupted out, their rigour mortis frozen permanently. He stopped and stared at the dead bodies and dry heaved, glad he had not eaten recently. All that came up was a bit of acidic digestive fluid. He spat it out and waved his wand again, speaking spells. The bodies were transported to where he had faced Riddle for the last time. The nine Communists would now be Pawns in a full sized chess board Harry had decided to make to use as an example for other world leaders who ignored his 'requests' for their submission.
Harry stood, looking at the chessboard for a moment, the twelve pawns, three knights, two bishops, and one queen on it, then turned. Hermione was watching him, their firstborn on her hip. He smiled hesitantly, afraid she would turn away. Their marriage had become rocky when he had announced his plans to finish what Voldemort had begun.
His head reached up and he realized the armor was still on. With a thought, it was off, a pile nearby. When she didn't turn, he walked towards her. She disappeared.
Harry snapped awake, soaked in sweat and shivering. He scowled and murmured, "Lights, low."
The torches in the room flicked to life and he stared at the sweat stained sheet clenched in his hand. His voice whispered, "That's now how it happened... right?" he asked of no one. "Damnit, why just me? Why not her too?" he railed at the night. He knew why. His immortality was the byproduct of destroying Riddle. Pulling his essence away had stripped him of all his power and the power had gone to the nearest body. What Voldemort most wanted was granted to the man who least wanted it.
Harry sighed, looking out at the storm. Lightning hit the ground and he nodded. His fingers rubbed the scar on his forehead and he opened the window, letting the rain hit him. While most of the world had weather control, it wasn't allowed around his palace. He enjoyed walking in the rain. Hermione and his first time had been on a hill during a storm. Harry looked down at his erection and smirked. Twenty thousand plus years. You should be tired of sex, he thought to himself.
More light came in from the door. It had opened slightly for a Fremen to set the day's schedule. When she saw he was awake, he heard her ask, "Does his Majesty need anything?"
Harry recognized the voice and thought for a moment. "Anise?"
She nodded and murmured, "Yes, Sire."
"Are you seeing anyone?" It was a question he asked of Fremen on occasion to be friendly though it still threw her. "Uh, no, my Emperor."
"Remove your mask." She did as ordered and he looked at her. Her features were mostly Chinese with Japanese refinement. She smiled hesitantly until he smiled. Her face broke into a gorgeous smile. His erection throbbed and he was glad he was hidden behind furniture. Her robes were layered well enough he could tell her body was very well proportioned.
He hesitated then asked, "Let me make love to you?"
"Oh, yes Sire," she blurted out, then blushed, clamping both hands over her mouth.
He smiled and she hesitated then closed the door. He said, "You don't have to."
"I want to, Sire. Any Fremen would let you bed them," she whispered as she undid her robes, revealing the thin silky shift she wore underneath.
Harry's hand moved forward and unintentionally he shifted her uniform into a very adult version of the Hogwarts robe. She looked down at it and grinned as he turned red in the light.
She moved forward then stopped. Harry leaned down to kiss her then pulled her against his body. She could feel him digging into her stomach as her lips parted for his tongue. When he pulled away, both were short of breath. He whispered, "Warmer light," and the torches in the room flared more gold than they had been.
He kissed her again and then murmured into her neck, "Tell me what you like."
When he nipped her above her pulse point below her ear, she gasped then said, "That. I like that."
-----Removed this section to comply with the whiny ones. It will be available in the pdf when the story is complete.-----
Anise walked into the office of the Fremen in charge of assignments and said, "I want to request a new assignment."
The woman looked up Anise's record then pulled up available assignments. Before she could ask, a window popped up and she said, "You have a flag on your profile. You'll need to review a holo-file before I can reassign you."
She pointed to a privacy booth and Anise walked over, hesitant.
Inside, the hologram floated in front of her, a perfect representation of the Emperor, though half a meter tall.
"Anise, if you're seeing this, you've requested reassignment. If you've regretted doing this and want to be away, I understand. If you want to leave because you're afraid of me pushing myself on you constantly, there's no need to fear that.
"I can remove the memories if you wish. I can make you think we sparred and you were hurt so I let you sleep if off in my bed or I can make you think whatever you want. And, uh, since we didn't use protection," her face went slightly pale then bright pink again. She liked the idea of possibly carrying his child, "I can either use the abort spell as a precaution though if you would rather let yourself have a child, I'll also understand if you don't want it acknowledged as Imperial progeny. But I'd like to talk it over with you if you wish. I have a free schedule tonight. Ask the Controller," the woman in charge of assignments, "to schedule you into my dinner tonight."
Anise watched the holo fade off then walked back out. "I'll cancel the reassignment request for now. His majesty wants me to dine with him."
She nodded, added the info into the Emperor's schedule then smiled. "Have a nice day, Fremen."
Anise nodded, smiled faintly, then walked out, thinking about the semen inside her. Her advanced biology classes flashed through her mind, reminding her that when the Emperor was her age, the normal cross-representation they used when comparing era-to-era, the average amount of semen ejaculated was two to five milliliters while now it was six to nine milliliters. She was quite sure the Emperor had filled her up with at last a liter. She could feel it dripping down her thighs at the moment. Though she was nervous about what she had done, she couldn't help but grin. She had slept with the Emperor. No other Fremen she knew could boast of that.
Inside the changing room she went to take a shower but stopped her hand before turning on the shower. Anise looked around then reached down to slide her fingers inside herself. She brought them out, a small amount of her lubrication and the Emperor's semen on her fingertips. She hesitated then licked them clean, wondering what his semen tasted like. Not salty? She thought. It's like oranges, kinda sour. She looked around then turned on the water and laughed.
She was massaging her hair potion into her scalp when she heard the showers farther down from her turn on. Anise wiped her eyes free of the potion and looked over. "Hi, Masha."
"Hey. Where were you? I stopped by the throne room to ask if you wanted to go to dinner with my family and I and you weren't there." Masha was assigned to roam the palace, checking the security.
"Uh, I was, doing something."
"What?"
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
"I shouldn't," Anise said slowly, wanting to tell her best friend.
"I'll swear on my wand."
Anise looked around then gestured Masha to move closer. She turned off the shower and moved down three stalls then turned on the water, pulling out her hair potion from her sack of toiletry.
"Magical contract?"
Masha nodded, making a circle over her heart, signifying she spoke only the truth.
Anise looked around again then leaned over and whispered, "I was with the Emperor."
"So? You—" She stopped talking then stared at her friend. She looked around then said, "You're lying. He hasn't slept with a Fremen in five thousand years." Masha was also a Fremen Historian.
Anise shook her head and Masha grinned, finally believing her. "Was he good?"
"I passed out when I came for... shit, I think the seventh time. I lost count after the first four."
"Was he big? The average penis size when he was born was, like, fifteen centimeters I think. Though he's a master at shifting. I mean, he's like two point seven meters now and when he was born, he was..." she paused, thinking, then remembered the data. "He was exactly one point nine meters."
Anise couldn't help it. With her friend, the surreality of having sex with the Emperor was gone. She giggled and said, "It felt that long inside me."
Masha laughed then the two stopped as three other Fremen came in, undressed and went to shower at stalls farther away. Anise thought about it and whispered, "It was about the length of my forearm minus six centimeters and a bit thinner than my wrist."
Masha thought about that. Anise was trim and lithe though at two hundred thirty centimeters, she wasn't as petite as some women. Women had stayed within the same variant of men as humanity had aged. "God, I'd love to have him fuck me," she said, her voice filled with lust and envy. After a moment she brightened and said, "You have to document this, you know." She asked as an afterthought, "Did you use protection?"
Anise blushed and shook her head. She had removed her implant after she and her last lover had split up. Masha finished showering and then said, "I'll expect your documentation by Friday at your end of shift, Fremen Delta thirty seven."
Anise came to attention and nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
Masha shook her head and walked off, drying herself as she moved towards her locker.
Anise leaned against the tiles of the stall and wished the Emperor wasn't the Emperor so she could surprise him with her naked body on his bed. Her nervousness had mostly disappeared and she dressed quickly. She stepped through the portal and walked to her apartment building. Though it was only one story high, she lived on the five hundredth floor. It took one minute for an elevator to arrive then she walked to her door. Inside, she walked to the window and looked out at the small city she lived in.
Harry sipped at a mug of coffee as his final supplicant left and his brunch was brought in. his personal chef, Terra's second best—the best worked at Harry's favorite restaurant, Godric's—delivered it himself and lifted the glass lid. Gavin McLeod. The chef, beamed.
Harry raised an eyebrow then smiled. "Tamonian Eel braised with Sarvonian pear sauce?"
Gavin beamed even more and nodded as Harry laughed. "How do you do it?"
Gavin shrugged and waited nearby as Harry sat down to begin to eat. Somehow, Gavin knew when Harry had had sex and always served the dish. While it was called an eel the creature was actually an arthropod and had the sweetest meat known to the galaxy. It was also the easiest to procure since one of the Tamosian Eels grew to maturity in a day from one cut up into as many as a thousand pieces.
The wine served with it had a smoky chocolaty rosy taste and he nodded. "What is this?"
"Savarian brandy. Do you want me to order more?"
"Yes. How long does it last?"
"That's a thousand year old bottle. They're holding five crates, one from the past five millennial pressings. Is the word given?" It wasn't really brandy by the Terran terms but brandy was the closest translation.
"It's given. Shame I had to eat so fast." He drained the last of the brandy and walked back to the throne to continue the business of the Empire. He was surprised when his assistant handed him the schedule for the day. He had nothing for the day other than a meeting with the Emperor's Hands.
He nodded and said, "Alright, I'm going for a walk in the garden then. Have them meet me in the chessboard."
The Fremen in charge nodded and they watched him walk out. When he was gone, they became even more alert.
Harry heard laughing and walked into the chessboard area. The enemies he had turned into pieces for the board were weathered and looked as if they had been carved instead of made from actual humans. He ignored them and nodded at the now silent and perfectly lined up soldiers. The ten greatest trained warriors of the Empire. Three were human females, one an Arvarian female who looked mostly human except for the catlike eyes and three fingers per hand, five were human males, and the last was a Tervosian genetic eunuch. Two groups of five. Each were the best fighter pilots, the best fighters, each had become the best of the best. When they became the Fingers of the Emperor, each one knew he or she was the best of a very small fraternity. The Hands of the Emperor, called Mailed Fists by him in private, were good enough that even Harry's enhanced skills and centuries of experience made most fights standstills except in fighters. He was the superior of anyone tactically anywhere.
"It's good to see you all. I have another mission. Here's the orders. I expect you to be underway in two weeks at the latest. Oh, and Silvana?" She seemed to stand even straighter.
He smiled and said, "Your sister is fine. They found her yesterday evening. She's having an arm replaced but her memories of the event will be gone soon after."
Her face broke into a smile and he said, "Dismissed."
He studied the black king, a white man that had been president of the United States and had told him to fuck off. Harry patted his cheek and murmured, "I won, shite breath."
He continued walking through the gardens, occasionally stopping to smell a flower or study a plant. The pixies and faeries ignored him for the most part except for one who kept close to him, closing in often enough to sit on his shoulder or knee. He smiled and ignored the creature.