The Third Nature -Book One of the Triad
Voyager fantasies by Lt Taya 17 Janeway
into gently smiling jaws
Janeway, appropriately briefed and set the shuttle Phoenix down in the courtyard of the Eminent Palace as the palace staff had directed her to. The courtyard was situated before the main aerie of the palace, a grandiose structure of opalescent material, shimmering in the slanting rays of the afternoon sun. It was a vaguely triangular structure, made of rectangular tiers stacked on top of each other. Flanking them were curving crystal spires. To Janeway, it looked like a cross between Klingon and Cardassian architecture.
There was a young girl and boy waiting for them at when Janeway, her two attendants and the two slaves from a province further up the Hy exited from the shuttle. At first she didn't notice anything unusual about the two children. Then the boy turned slightly to usher them into the palace, and she saw them. Wings. Glinting and iridescent, like delicate butterfly's wings, yet they seemed to exemplify speed and grace even when folded. Janeway drew in a sharp breath. Myriam had told her about these people, whom were thought to be extinct. Seraphim.
The young seraph bowed as Janeway approached. "Greetings, Emissary," he said softly. "My name is Falkner, and this is my sister, Falda. We will take you to the vestibule, where you may await an audience with her Eminence."
He knows, thought Janeway silently as the boy led her through a ten-foot high arched entrance and down tall corridors of gray marble, with his sister flanking in the rear. Somehow, he knows I'm from Ashkar. Her gown whispered against the cool polished floor, complementing the rapid beats of her heart. If the Empress knows, I am dead.
The boy took her into a cavernous room with a high arched roof, supported by ornate sandstone pillars. The room was illuminated by a huge curved window of glass and aluminum carved into the end opposite its entrance. Most of it was empty space, heavy and silent. Portraits of past Empresses lined the walls. A set of heavy bronze doors in left war, presumably leading to the receiving room. Janeway stood quietly in the middle of the room, with Josh and Bryanna behind her in revered silence. Falkner bowed as he took his leave, and said to Janeway in a low voice, "You shouldn't have come."
A gentle tendril brushed across her her mind. Falda. You place yourself in great danger.
The two children left, taking the subservient slaves with them. Janeway stood still for a moment, stunned by their revelation. They were on her side! Spies as well?
The door to the receiving room swung open. Taking her cue from it, Janeway stepped into the receiving room. Silently, Josh and Bryanna walked in after her.
If anything, the receiving room was even larger than then vestibule. A long aisle flanked by marble buttresses led the way to the throne, which was illuminated from above by a circular opening. The throne was situated directly in the center of the main aerie, so the circular opening extended all the way up to the top of the ziggurat. A single air-strike would destroy an Empress where she sat. It was a measure of trust. Janeway figured that the palace must have been designed aeons ago. There were huge, shallow pools of clear water by the side of the aisle, fed by softly gurgling fountains. The throne itself was elevated, a smoothly organic sculpture made out of opalescent material, which seemed to glow as if producing light energy of its own.
And then there was the Empress. She was a beautiful woman: lean, sinewy and feline. She had sharp, delicate features, orange hair streaked with copper that flowed around her shoulders, fingers which sheathed claws. She was dressed in a sheer, clinging wraparound silk gown, resembling the togas worn by Romans of ages past. She smiled as Janeway went down on one knee in front of the throne, revealing long sharp canines.
"You may rise," she said. Her voice was both husky and resonant at the same time.
Janeway glanced around the room. The Empress was served by two children as well. One of them, like her, was a feline child no older than eleven, short-cropped hair with reddish highlights, carrying a large white tiger-striped cat. The Empress' daughter, perchance? The other had to be Calista. The similarities between her and Bryanna were unmistakable. Twins, thought Janeway, they can't be anything else but that.
"I am Kathryn Janeway of the corporation Starfleet," she began. "We wish to make an offering to the Eminence in return for peace and safety when trading in these sectors." She had memorized those lines. Stick as close to the real story as possible, Myriam had said; there was no need to catch the Empress' attention by incessant lying. They had not expected Voyager's attack; it was a good bet that they did not know about the whole Emissary business.
The Empress nodded. "Then let us begin negotiations."
Nayrn Maldor was fascinated. She'd imagined the Emissary to be some huge, terrifying woman, a giantess or ogress, perhaps, commanding a mighty army which bowed to her every whim. This, slight graceful Mage before her was definitely not what she'd expected. She was dressed in a simple emerald-green gown which clung tight to the curves of her waist and flared slightly beyond that. She had beautiful, delicate features, clear blue eyes, high cheekbones, a radiant smile. Only paying half mind to the official proceedings, she studied her. Kathryn Janeway. What a unique name. From how far away did this Starfleet hark? This woman was human, certainly, but in all her years Nayrn had never heard of anyone named Janeway before. She had to be the dregs of a society somewhere, she thought. Nayrn liked to think that she knew everything about the Preeminence.
The Emissary was offering Nayrn the two slaves she'd brought along with her in exchange for Perron. Fool. This must have been Myriam's idea. Didn't the mere act of asking about Perron blow their cover? It didn't matter. By dusk she would be dead.
It would be a pity, thought Nayrn. This exotic creature had a beauty that was all her own. Nayrn had half a mind to merely destroy her mind and keep that splendid body all to herself. She kept telling herself that girls were only good for decoration, but she was always willing to experiment with new techniques if situations were just right. But Nayrn knew that if she didn't eradicate Janeway now she'd always be a threat to her. She had made that grievous mistake once in underestimating Ashkar. Never again, she swore. Better to make a small sacrifice in lieu of having suffering greatly later.
Janeway concluded setting out her conditions in the approved manner, and Nayrn nodded as if in deference to her. Then a slow smile spread across her face. She called for the wolfchild.
The girl approached the throne warily. Nayrn made a small gesture. "Hand her that cat."
The wolfchild clutched the tiger cub tightly to herself. "But she's mine."
"Not any longer," growled Nayrn, enjoying the look on the wolfchild's face as she squirmed. Finally she held the cub out to Janeway.
Janeway cast a glance at the wolfchild, then at Nayrn. "I don't need a pet. Let the girl keep it."
"I want you to take it," said Nayrn with emphasis.
Reluctantly, Janeway took the cat and cradled it in her arms. The cat mewled in distress as it was separated from its owner. Janeway stroked it softly, and the cub stopped, mollified.
So gentle. Nayrn was beginning to seriously regret having to have to kill her off. She could almost imagine those same fingers on her own skin, soft and gentle. She mentally shook her head. This was no time for her to delve into childish fantasies. Focus, focus.
She rose from her throne. "Come, let me take you to see the boy you speak of," she told Janeway, crossing the space between them. She swept close to her, and their gowns rustled together with a sibilant sound. She noted with amusement how the boy attending her drew back from her presence warily. She slipped a hand around Janeway's waist, and the woman stiffened for a moment. Relax, she told Janeway, drawing her closer in. I'm not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway… Silly girl. The more you hate me, the more you expose yourself. "The prisoners of war are kept in the holding cells, which is in another aerie altogether. We'll walk there." She escorted Janeway out of her receiving room, and the four attendants followed.
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