The Adventures of Augment Gothic (A Star Trek SI)

by Joe Lawyer

A present-day Star Trek fan is forcibly thrust into that dimension and made anew as an Augment, a genetically engineered superman, on the whim of a mischievous god. Armed with knowledge of this dimension's past and future, he's determined to live well, have fun with alien women, and make it look easy. Elements of DS9/TNG/Voy/Ent. Originally co-written with GothicJedi666.

45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to or part of Star Trek.

Last time on The Adventures of Augment Gothic

Noon. Rose Garden. White House. Earth. Flight of the Navigator Universe.

The Rose Garden was a large rectangular open space bordered on each side by a long line of flowers that were in full bloom during these warm months of summer. Inside those borders of flowers were probably about a thousand reporters tightly packed together, each with a folding chair while they waited for the President to walk out of the White House, step up to the platform, and address the world.

He swiftly did, looking out on the large assemblage.

"My fellow Americans and my fellow citizens of the world. What I have to say to you is not something I was ever prepared to say, and I do not expect you to be prepared to hear it. I come to you today to make a revelation, perhaps the greatest of our time, a revelation that will change the course of our history forever, but hopefully for the better," President Reagan began and paused for a time. "I tell you now, with no humor, with no prevarication, with no hyperbole, that we are not alone in the universe as we might have once believed."

The President paused as the gathered reporters broke out in a wave of hushed whispers and exclamations, quite smartly giving them time to digest this shocking bit of news.

"In recent days we have been visited by two alien civilizations, civilizations who are much more technologically advanced than our own. A representative of one such civilization has asked to address the world today. His name is Admiral Gothic, of the Bajoran Defense Forces. While he looks just like one of us, he is not. May I introduce, Admiral Gothic."

President Reagan stepped aside and left the podium empty, leaving the crowd of reporters confused as they could see no one. I appeared in a transporter beam moments later.

I beamed at the stunned crowd of tightly packed reporters, standing resplendent in my shiny chrome armor, patterns moving across its surface like liquid silver.

"I AM GOTHIC, OF BAJOR, AND I AM BURDENED WITH GLORIOUS PURPOSE!" I shouted bombastically, smiling like a King addressing his people, raising both my arms into the air.

Somehow, someway, I felt like Loki, a God of the Marvel multiverse, was smiling down on me at that moment, as my chaos meter filled to 100%.

The Adventures of Augment Gothic

Chapter 45

American Diplomatic Flight. On route to the United States.

Diana, normally a fan of forlornly staring out the window when flying on the many diplomatic missions, goodwill tours, or official visits that were expected of her as Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales, wife to Prince Charles the next in line to the British throne, barely took in the beautiful sight. Sunlight was glistening, like millions of sparkling diamonds, on the waters of the Atlantic so far below them as they flew to the United States.

The plane itself was beautiful and well appointed, decked out in a sumptuous white leather and rich wood paneling, used to ferry around high-level American officials on diplomatic missions around the world, and that's what this was, of a sort, a diplomatic mission of a type that she had certainly never partaken of before since she had begun her public life as a Princess. The Americans truly loved to remind everyone else of their wealth and status on the world stage, didn't they? At least the trappings of great wealth that the British monarchy were proud of displaying were from another era, usually centuries before modern times.

To think, humanity had been visited by not one, but two alien civilizations. She could scarcely believe it. To have this happen in her lifetime. It truly beggared belief or rationality. Was she blessed to be alive during such a tumultuous time in history or cursed to suffer through it? After the terribly improper and salacious request that had been made of her, well, she truly couldn't decide.

A closed manila folder sat before her on the highly polished mahogany table, the bright red markings on the folder cover leaving no doubt to even a casual observer that this was a highly secret set of documents and any unauthorized reading would lead to severe consequences, a long prison sentence almost a certainty. In this case, it was a joint intelligence briefing compiled by various American and British intelligence agencies on the events and people that had featured so prominently on the minds of every human on the planet in the last few days.

She had read it through, cover to cover, nearly half a dozen times already, scarcely believing that what she was reading was real. The intelligence communities were dour and humorless at the best of times, she knew; if the briefing had been from any other apparatus of government she wouldn't immediately believe it on its face.

Admiral Gothic of the Bajoran Defense Forces, as he had identified himself, and wasn't that a strange choice of words for a title. Thousands of analysts from around the world had tried to understand the deeper meaning of those few words in the title he'd shared. Linguists and other scholars couldn't even agree on a likely meaning, wondering if the words and term even meant what they thought it meant, considering language could drift significantly over the course of 300 years of usage, and that was ignoring the effect on the language of exposure to so many other alien languages.

Taking the meaning at face value, like the Japanese Defense Forces, it implied that the Bajoran people were not allowed to have a traditional military, for some reason, likely meaning that they had been defeated by a more powerful foe or were afraid of the consequences of provocation that possessing a true military force might have. That there may potentially be more powerful enemies lurking out there in the dark of space, ones that even Admiral Gothic might even fear with his impossible capabilities and terrifyingly advanced technology, filled those in the know with acute terror.

What chance did they have to withstand such an enemy if they were inclined to take what they wanted from the divided people of Earth? History was positively replete with more powerful peoples and nations taking what they wanted from weaker ones who had something that they wanted. The thought of being on the other side of that equation was the cause of many sleepless nights around the world.

Admiral Gothic had truly spoken to the world from the American Rose Garden at the White House. Normally that would be a hyperbolic statement, even when it was the President of the United States doing the speaking, but Admiral Gothic had shown that he had been quite serious when he had said that he would be addressing the world. An hour before President Reagan had taken to the podium, the world had been made an audience to a 60-minute countdown, willing and unwilling alike. The various governments of the world still had no idea how it had been accomplished, but every communications network across the planet had been simultaneously commandeered by a powerful foreign signal that could not be stopped. Once the countdown had elapsed, every communications frequency, every channel, on every television or radio around the world, received the same powerful broadcast from the White House, somehow translated simultaneously into virtually every native language the people of the world could speak. It was, at the same time, both impressive and terrifying.

In many ways, it was the first and only collective human experience. The closest comparison, barely approached in scope and breadth, was perhaps the American moon landing.

Admiral Gothic, quite the orator, had revealed to all of humanity that they were not alone in the universe, and in doing so had truly changed the course of human history and its future development, forever. Perhaps in the future, she thought, humanity would refer to this singular moment in history as 'Before the Revelation' and 'After the Revelation.' For some reason, that filled her with some excitement, and a bit of cautious hope. Perhaps this was exactly what humanity had needed to wake up and keep from destroying itself, like Admiral Gothic had said. For someone of her generation, the threat of nuclear annihilation had hung over their heads practically since birth, so it was a welcome hope.

Glorious purpose, indeed.

She picked up the report and reviewed again the transcript of Admiral Gothic's speech to the world.

'I come before you today with a truth, a truth both wonderful and terrible, but a truth that I hope will bring a new age of peace and prosperity for your people, just as it did for mine,' he said. 'When we learned that we were not alone in the universe, we set aside our differences and looked to the stars as one people, with hope for a better tomorrow, setting aside old prejudices, old divisions, and old hurts.'

He has spoken so eloquently about the transformation that his people had undergone after they had had 'First Contact' with the Vulcan people. It had taken a broken and divided people in a post-apocalyptic Earth and brought them together like nothing ever had before. The Earth he described was as near akin to a paradise as she'd ever heard of or dreamt of, and she couldn't help but hope for the same for her Earth.

For such an enlightened example of future humanity, you would think that Admiral Gothic would be beyond his physical urges controlling him to such a degree that he would make such a salacious and prurient request of the American President. After all, there could be no misinterpreting the intent behind the words 'weekend of hedonism and debauchery' that had been carefully transcribed in the report, with multiple attached independent confirmations. The choice of women was telling too. A popular American and French adult film star and a music artist famous for her rampant sexuality. According to Admiral Gothic, each of these women had been a part of his adolescent fantasies from his youth.

She was the only outlier on his list that didn't quite make sense to anyone else, the one that didn't quite fit. She knew many considered her beautiful, maybe even very beautiful, and many people were fixated on every aspect of her life since she had married Charles, but to make such a request of her, a British woman of nobility, a princess and future queen even. It was shocking. It had certainly shocked her husband, his family, and the queen herself she remembered.

XXXXX

12 hours Earlier.

The White Drawing Room. Buckingham Palace. United Kingdom.

"Do you know why she's called for us, Charles?" Diana asked, sounding unsure, as they walked together down the opulently decorated halls of Buckingham Palace to get to their meeting. "It's not often we get a summons to her weekly meeting with the Prime Minister, especially an unscheduled, emergency meeting. Do you think it has to do with him, Admiral Gothic, and the revelations he made to the world?"

"I do not rightly know for sure, Diana," Charles brusquely replied, almost dismissively, as he so often did these days as their marriage continued to worsen and become increasingly strained, like he couldn't be bothered with her questions or feelings. "As there is little else of importance going on, I imagine that it is quite likely."

His rebuke made her suppress any follow up questions, used to the way he talked to her these days. Coming to the large, elaborate, mirrored doors of the White Drawing Room, she nodded in acknowledgement to the royal guards who opened the doors for them to enter. Waiting inside was John Major, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and North Ireland, as well as the United States Ambassador to the United Kingdom, Charles Price, II. The latter man was someone she'd met many times before at a dozen or more social events over the years since he'd been appointed to the post. Both men promptly stood as they entered the room, the Queen still noticeably absent.

"Your Royal Highnesses, hello, thank you for coming at such short notice," the Prime Minister immediately greeted, shaking Charles' hand then hers, after bowing.

"How could we not after such an unusual and intriguing summons by her Majesty," Charles replied with his well-practiced diplomatic smile in full force. "Mr. Ambassador, it has been a while, how are you in these interesting times?"

"Interesting times are right, your Highness," Ambassador Price replied with a forced smile, as if he was dreading the conversation he was to have. She wondered why that was. "We live in a very different world than the one we did only a few days ago, don't we?"

"Indeed, we do," Charles replied thoughtfully, before turning back to the Prime Minister. "Will her majesty be joining us soon?"

"I was told that she would be with us shortly," the Prime Minister answered quickly.

She glanced around the room while her husband, the Prime Minister, and the US Ambassador engaged in minor pleasantries while they waited for 'The Boss' to arrive. Nothing of any substance would be discussed without her presence, after all.

The White Drawing Room was one of the more intimate State Rooms at Buckingham Palace used for audiences and small gatherings, but far larger and far more formal a room than her Majesty's private office where she normally received her weekly briefings from the country's Prime Minister. The addition of herself, her husband, and the US Ambassador had likely required the change in venue. The last time she had been in this room was for the yearly formal family photographs to be taken and that was some time ago.

Her eyes couldn't help but stray impolitely to the hidden door disguised as a mirror and cabinet the Queen would likely enter through. A few minutes later, she saw her mother-in-law push open the hidden door and walk slowly and carefully into the room, hands clasped in front of her.

Immediately everyone got to their feet and offered her various bows and greetings.

"Everyone, please take your seats," the Queen said before taking her seat in the armchair that sat at the head of two large couches that faced each other, tea and other refreshments sitting on the low table between them. Charles and she sat on one couch, while the Prime Minister and Ambassador sat upon the other. "Now, John, can you tell me why you requested that both Charles and Diana be present for this meeting as well?"

"I'm afraid that that was at my request, your Majesty," Ambassador Price chimed in as the Prime Minister had glanced at him to speak up, looking suddenly nervous and hesitant. "I am here at the behest of the President, to present a… unique request…made by Admiral Gothic, our recent visitor from the stars."

The shock she felt was shared by both her husband and mother-in-law, but not seemingly by the Prime Minister who was looking decidedly uncomfortable and almost reluctant. Was the man blushing? This suggested that the Prime Minister was already well aware of whatever 'request' the alien Admiral had made, a request that was making both men visibly uncomfortable. She couldn't possibly think of why the alien man would be interested in speaking to them. Other than interacting with the American president and his government, the man had not reached out to anyone else on the world stage, much to many countries' not so secret chagrin who obviously hoped to get more information or even technology from the alien Admiral. Securing his favor would be the greatest coup of the millennia.

"Indeed?" the Queen replied, looking intrigued, though the sharpness of her eyes betrayed that she too was wondering what kind of request could possibly be affecting both men like this. After so many years on the throne, the Queen could read people with the best of them, even these high-level officials. "What could he possibly be requesting of us? Is he interested in a formal state dinner or visiting our fine nation, perhaps? I am sure that something can be arranged, even on such short notice."

Somehow, she did not think it was anything of the sort. She glanced over at Charles, and he too looked unsure and uncertain.

"No, your majesty, nothing quite like that," the Ambassador replied slowly, as if girding himself to say something that was making him decidedly uncomfortable, something he truly did not wish to have to say. The man was visibly perspiring too. "The request was of a more personal nature, specifically for her Royal Highness, Princess Diana."

"Diana?" Charles replied incredulously. "What could this alien Admiral possibly want with Diana?"

While the words were perhaps a little hurtful in tone and delivery, the sentiment was shared by herself. What did he want from her specifically?

Ambassador Price pulled a handkerchief from his inner pocket and dabbed the sweat from his forehead.

"Admiral Gothic met with President Reagan and many of the Administration's top officials prior to his speech in the Rose Garden," he explained. "During the course of that conversation, the President inquired as to what aid the Admiral could potentially give the United States to weather the unknown and largely unforeseeable effects his revelation would have on the world order. Our request for aid was denied."

The Prime Minister's eyes sharpened as he turned to the Ambassador.

"What you really mean is that the President asked the Admiral to give the United States alone advanced weapons and technology, Ambassador," the Prime Minister sharply clarified, cutting through the diplomatic doublespeak. "If the answer had been an affirmative, I truly wonder if the United States would have chosen to share this, aid, with its closest ally in the United Kingdom or even told us about it."

"Of course, we would have—"

"Gentlemen," the Queen interjected, "I believe we have gotten rather off topic."

The Prime Minister looked slightly chastened, but far from satisfied. She had been too long in the world of diplomacy and statesmanship, too jaded to the realities of international politics, to truly believe that the US would have done any such thing unless forced to, or it benefitted them to do so, nor would her country have, if the roles had been reversed.

"It has not been widely reported, but Admiral Gothic expressed that his time on Earth was not just to reveal the existence of alien life to humanity, but to have a sort of vacation on Earth, one where he indulged, perhaps even gloried in, an acute sense of nostalgia stemming from his youth," the Ambassador explained, which tracked with statements and answers that Admiral Gothic had made during his press conference. The Ambassador took out a piece of paper from his suit jacket. "Please forgive me for the crassness of the language, but I am only repeating what Admiral Gothic reportedly said, specifically that he was, 'here on vacation to bang some hot human bitches.'"

Silence.

"I will forgive you this once, Mr. Ambassador, as you are only repeating the words of another, but please keep in mind that you are in the presence of noble ladies," the Queen replied sternly. "While I am disappointed that such an important personage from such an idyllic sounding future would speak like that or be so concerned with such prurient matters of the flesh, I suppose men will be men, regardless of the time that they come from or the advanced and powerful technology that they possess and wield. Perhaps this should not surprise me that we as a race have changed so little. Perhaps it's even something that we should take solace and comfort in."

The Ambassador dabbed at this perspiring forehead yet again while glancing at herself furtively. Did he think she would be more shocked than the Queen herself?

"I am not offended, Mr. Ambassador, perhaps we should be happy that Admiral Gothic's desires are so mundane, rather than what the world truly fears of someone with such advanced capabilities and technology," she pointed out. "We would be hard pressed to deny him anything, if he but asked."

Her husband and mother-in-law gave thoughtful nods at the astute observation. It could, in truth, be far, far worse. History was full of such examples.

"A very good point, Diana," the Queen replied, sounding pleased, nodding at her.

"I'm afraid I'm not done, your royal highnesses," the Ambassador answered, glancing down again at his paper. "While Admiral Gothic rejected our request for aid, he did make an offer. He asked for a 'weekend of hedonism and debauchery in the Lincoln bedroom' which the President agreed to. Admiral Gothic then asked for the company of an American and French adult film actress, the musician Madonna and one other to join him…"

The Ambassador trailed off, looking more uncomfortable than ever, refusing to even look in Diana's direction. Her husband, tired of all the delays, had had enough of this ridiculous conversation.

"For God's sake, spit it out, Ambassador, we are all adults here," Charles demanded, sounding annoyed, but also a little amused at all this.

"The last woman that he requested…was…Princess Diana herself," the Ambassador quietly got out, looking down at his knees.

Silence. Several long moments of shocked silence ensued before the room erupted.

"My word!" the Queen exclaimed, looking a combination of both shocked and angry, as she fanned herself.

"The temerity! The sheer gall! What an affront!" Charles yelled angrily, jumping to his feet and staring daggers at the Ambassador who had leaned back fearfully at the outburst. "What could possess you, man, to even repeat such a scandalous request! You go too far!"

Surprisingly, the Prime Minister looked more resigned than angry.

She merely sat quietly, staring at her lap, digesting this surprising information. While she herself was certainly shocked, part of her was rather flattered to be included in such a list and couldn't help but imagine it. The Admiral was an extremely good-looking man after all, perhaps the most attractive man that she had ever seen in her life, even if she'd only ever seen him on a television screen, and she had been around many good-looking men in her life.

Since Admiral Gothic's revelation there had certainly been no lack of comment or discussion by the women of the world on just how insanely good looking the man was. No one had a right to look that good was the majority consensus, regardless of race, national origin, or creed. The women of the White House Press Corp, from its youngest members to those that had served in it for over 60 years, had spoken about how the man somehow exuded raw charisma in person, like there was a draw that they couldn't help but feel, even by women so old that they had largely forgotten the powerful feeling of such a physical attraction.

Coming back to the conversation, she realized Charles was angrily berating the Ambassador.

"In exchange for the cure to cancer!" the Ambassador practically shouted to be heard over Charles' angry words. At these unexpected words Charles promptly shut up, allowing the Ambassador to continue. "In exchange for a weekend of hedonism and debauchery with the women he listed, including the Princess, he will provide the world with the cure for cancer. All cancer, every type, every form, from its earliest stages to its most advanced."

Charles fell back into his seat heavily, dead silent, looking almost defeated as he mulled this over, his eyes distant. The Queen and her son both looked shellshocked, but decidedly thoughtful, lost in their own memories and shared pain of loss. She felt the same and could easily divine the direction of their thoughts. The British royal family had directly and indirectly supported cancer funding and research for as long as it had existed, cancer taking many of them far too early in their lives. Elizabeth's and Charles' own father and grandfather had had lung cancer and had died from complications arising from it. Elizabeth's uncle too, had died from throat cancer.

There were many, many other such examples in both her and Charles' family. Even beyond their personal brushes with cancer, you could not be a member of the British royal family without touring or visiting a hospital filled with children suffering and dying from cancer or attending dinners to raise money to support ever more cancer research. It was practically part of the job and now a cure was being offered, one that they had no reason to doubt the efficacy of considering all the other miraculous technologies the man had proven to have.

It would be an extraordinary gift to mankind to be free of all cancer, if it wasn't being offered in quite this manner. Could they truly say no when the price was so relatively small? How would the world react if it became known they she, or the British monarchy as a whole, might be the reason the offer was rescinded? How many future deaths would be on her conscience?

The Ambassador allowed the thoughtful and loaded silence to continue unabated, only the ticking of some likely centuries old clock to be heard. It was she who broke the silence.

"Do we know if he can actually do it?" she asked quietly, unsurprised that her mother-in-law and husband remained silent.

"After he left the White House he visited the pediatric cancer ward at Georgetown University Hospital," the Ambassador answered, seemingly glad to be discussing something less upsetting. "Over the course of an hour, he cured everyone there with a single injection each, including a little boy named Grant whose doctors speculated had only days left to live, his cancer was so advanced and widespread throughout his entire body. Every test we have, performed by the best doctors and scientists in the world, says that they have all been completely cured, no matter what type of cancer the children had previously or how advanced. Admiral Gothic then visited every hospital in the DC metropolitan area and did the same at other such wards. We've somehow managed to keep news of it from leaking, though it hasn't been easy. While we do not have direct examples of him curing cancer in adults, none of our most accomplished people think it wouldn't accomplish the same result. He truly does have the cure for cancer."

More silence.

"If it brings you any comfort, I'm as straight as a ruler. If the man wanted to bed me, I'd happily do whatever he asked with a smile on my face for such a Kingly gift to the world," the Ambassador voiced, though promptly shut up at the sharp poisonous glare the Queen sent his way, one that demanded that he stop speaking immediately lest he face her wrath.

She looked up a little, gazing at the Queen and her husband through her hair, feeling shy and uncertain all of a sudden.

"Mama, what should I do?" she quietly asked.

The Queen, normally a paragon of strength and surety in even the most unsure of times, looked decidedly uncertain and hesitant in that moment.

"I cannot tell you what to do, Diana, nor shall I. I shall support you wholeheartedly in whatever you decide, though," the Queen answered after several moments of deliberating, but it was clear that she hoped Diana would choose a certain way. "And I promise you, no one in our family will judge you or give you cause for grief no matter your decision. I will ensure it," she spoke with commanding steel in her voice and body language. Woe be to anyone that tried, she felt.

"Charles, I know things have not been good between us for some time, but what are your thoughts?" she asked, turning to look at her husband.

Her husband, though, would not even look at her, instead choosing to address the American Ambassador.

"Does this man not care that some of the women he's asked for are married?" Charles asked.

The Ambassador took a moment to compose an answer, "He made it clear that this was a true request, that he would not be forcing anyone to participate, but that a temporary and consensual suspension of their monogamy would be a bargain given what the entire world would receive in return."

The Queen, Charles, and she were no stranger to the demands of duty, the sacrifices they were sometimes called to make given their positions, and a cure for cancer would save hundreds of millions of lives over the next however many years it took for humanity to discover a cure on their own. The Admiral was right, it was a terribly, terribly small price to pay given what was at stake. Out of her peripheral vision she saw the Queen giving a small possibly unconscious nod, her eyes closed.

She and Charles' marriage was not a good one and had not been for quite some time, with neither of them being truly faithful to each other. Both she and him had taken other lovers during the course of their marriage. Charles had not hidden his lifelong love for Camilla Parker Bowles from the very beginning, or how she would always be second to the other woman, never his true and first choice. They had not shared a bed in years, at this point.

"I'll do it," she said, resolutely, feeling almost silly now at her previous feelings. Giving her body to the Admiral in exchange for saving hundreds of millions of lives was indeed a very small price to pay. It certainly helped that the Admiral was so terribly, terribly attractive with the kind of idealized body only seen in artists' depictions of ancient deities.

"Are you sure, my dear?" the Queen quietly asked, though she couldn't help but think the Queen looked incredibly proud of her in that moment.

"I am, mama," she replied simply.

"On behalf of the United States government, the people of the United States, and perhaps the world, I offer our sincere thanks," the Ambassador said.

"Have you contacted the others requested?" she couldn't help but ask.

"We have, and they have all agreed, excitedly even," the Ambassador answered, before he realized too late that that was perhaps in poor taste to share. "I have a private plane standing by on the tarmac at Heathrow ready to bring you to the White House as soon as you are ready, your highness."

"Thank you, Ambassador," she said.

"Yes, thank you, Ambassador, Prime Minister," the Queen said as she rose to her feet, causing everyone to rise to her feet. "I now need a moment to speak to my family. In private."

"Of course."

"Of course."

Both men bowed and quickly departed from the room.

In a very uncharacteristic move, the Queen approached her and extended her arms to take her into a gentle, but loving hug.

"I am very proud of you, Diana," the Queen said. "The duty we have to our people often requires personal sacrifices of us, to put our own wants and needs second to theirs. While the world may never learn of your sacrifice, I, will know, and I will never forget it."

"Thank you, mama," she said quietly, extremely happy at receiving these rare words of praise from the Queen. She felt almost guilty at the thought that this didn't really feel like a true sacrifice, but rather an unexpected reward given the excitement and anticipation she was feeling at the moment.

XXXXX

Onboard The Flighty Temptress. In orbit of Earth.

The smile on my face was wide and infectious as I stepped off the transporter pad, my nano armor visibly transitioning from the glistening and dripping black wetsuit form it was currently in, into my normal daily wear, all the water evaporating. I drew the line at rocking the bright neon-colored wetsuits that were so popular in 1986.

I had just spent the last few hours after my revelation to the world learning how to surf on the island of Oahu in Hawaii, being taught by several enthusiastic pro surfers, including an American named Tom Curren, the current World Champion for surfing, all of whom were happy to teach the world's first alien visitor all about their life's passion. I gave each of them a roll of instantly replicated American gold Eagles for their time, as a small thank you, though they had been happy to help for free. They were shocked and amazed at my gift, which delighted me.

I had never surfed in my life, the past one or the new one, not even on the holodeck, but I had been gripped by the intense urge to have an entirely new human experience while I had this unique opportunity with all of Earth and its people available to me. Surfing as a sport and a pastime still existed on Earth, even in the 24th century, and the holodeck had many training programs that could have taught me just as well, arguably maybe even better with virtually every pro surfer from that dimension's history available to call up on a whim, but why do that when I could have the real thing on Earth? To learn on Earth's real waves and waters?

Tom had been shocked when I told him that I had never surfed a day in my life, especially as I quickly picked up every lesson he imparted like a sponge, instantly and perfectly taking in every bit of advice. As an Augment, physical things like that were easy, and my balance and muscle control were perfect, which definitely helped. Watching a World Champion certainly helped as well as I copied what he did and borrowed liberally from his vast experience on a board. Within an hour of beginning my training, I was taking Eastern windswell wraps to shifting Western peaks almost as well as the World Champion who had been surfing most of his life. By the end, reporters from all over the area had shown up to take pictures, so who knows, I could single-handedly be responsible for a resurgence of interest in the sport worldwide because of it.

The main transporter room I had arrived in was empty, of course, as I did not have the crew to have it staffed 26/7 like on the Enterprise, nor did I really even see the need for such a thing. On a ship with multiple duty shifts and over a thousand people permanently stationed on it, it probably made sense.

Mentally tapping into the ship's internal sensors, I queried the ship as to where everyone was and learned that all of them were in my holographic design and fabrication lab. Now that was interesting. It was rare for them all to be working in the same space, so I decided to see what was up. I had to walk carefully down the normally quite spacious corridors which were still full of containers filled with several different valuable materials that we had mined, but I made it.

A quick turbolift ride later, I walked into what was normally my domain, but had obviously been taken over by my crew during my impromptu surfing adventure. No one even seemed to notice that I had arrived, so I kept silent.

"Right there, see that!" B'Elanna said emphatically, pointing at a floating bit of holographic text and a molecular pattern.

"I know, it doesn't make sense," Neela replied quietly, still engrossed in the alien science.

"Indeed, it is quite illogical, it defies the natural laws as we know them, yet we also know that it is possible. We have all reviewed the sensor readings showing the Phaelon vessel altering its hull configuration," T'Maz replied in her normal stoic voice.

Feeling mischievous, I decided to say hello.

"Hey girls!" I greeted enthusiastically.

Two thirds of my crew jumped in fright letting out hilarious sounds of surprise. T'Maz merely whipped around quickly and raised a clearly unamused Vulcan eyebrow.

"Captain." "Gothic!" "Don't do that!"

"It's not my fault you guys didn't notice when I arrived; I wasn't exactly hiding my entrance," I joked back.

"Why are you back so soon?" B'Elanna asked. "Didn't you say you were going to learn how to surf or some such nonsense?"

"I've been gone for over 6 hours, B'Elanna," I deadpanned.

"What, no, that's not-" she started, but stopped after checking the ship's chronometer. "I guess it has been."

"Maybe it was a mistake to give you access to the Phaelon technical data," I speculated, looking at the ceiling in a faux disappointed tone. "I hope you haven't been neglecting your assigned duties."

"No!" B'Elanna was quick to reassure, looking at her fellow crew members who had remained silent as if they had betrayed her, probably worried that I might restrict her access to the data. "The microdrones are still gathering the last of the data, so we had some downtime while we were waiting for it to come in."

The Phaelon data was still being analyzed in my armor's secure data quarantine, but it had again occurred to me that the more advanced the race, the more user friendly the database was. I had had Jarvis look for the primer on this technology, basically an overview on how this technology worked that they would provide to their young children. It had been very easy to find, the alien database eagerly offering it up after I'd asked.

What they were examining was akin to a textbook entry on programmable matter meant for children, or the Phaelon's equivalent of children (whatever that was), essentially providing just a little detail on the general way it worked and the basics of how it worked, but yet nowhere near enough to recreate the technology or to fully understand the underlying science. After directing my security scans at this part of the data first, I then made it available to my crew. My armor's systems still had a ways to go to get through it all, though.

"So, any thoughts on the data?" I asked nonchalantly but was genuinely curious what they thought after having had more time with the data. I had considered preventing T'Maz from accessing the data altogether given her Section 31 ties, but this little sojourn through dimensions meant I couldn't afford to have a quarter of my crew in the dark. She had already become intimately aware of the dimensional shift/transit technology, so that ship had long since sailed. Hopefully she kept to both the letter and spirit of the deal I'd struck with Section 31, otherwise I would need to make some hard decisions.

"It's amazing, and frightening, and humbling, and baffling, and a slew of other things all at once," she replied, her eyes glazed over a bit. "I don't understand it virtually at all, but I'm dying to figure it out."

"T'Maz, your thoughts?" I asked, turning to her.

"It is most illogical, yet we have been able to gather several fascinating insights from this basic technical data," T'Maz answered. "Sensor records show the Phaelon drone ship changing the shape of its hull, yet that is only a minor capability of this matter. Neela pointed out that this should not be possible, even for a ship's external hull, considering modern starships, as we know them, have power transfer conduits, ODN lines, computer circuitry, amongst a myriad number of other systems running through it."

"This matter has an almost liquid-like matrix, like it's always on the verge of a transitional state, which is amazing on its own," B'Elanna interrupted. "The truly revolutionary part of this is that the programmable matter can be used to create and integrate its own power transfer conduits, data lines, the computer circuitry, etc., at a molecular level. As it changes, so too does all those other things, which makes it fluid and malleable, but also very resistant to damage and capable of autonomous self-repair over time simply by creating more of the matter as it's damaged or annihilated."

"Sounds great, when can we apply this technology to the Temptress?" I asked.

For several long moments my crew just stared at me like I was an alien sculpture, then two of the three of them broke out into loud guffawing laughter with tears coming down their eyes. T'Maz just raised double eyebrows at me.

"Gothic, we are, that is, wow…" B'Elanna sputtered between laughs. "Your ambition and greed really know no limits. We only have the barest summary information on this technology, and we certainly don't understand it right now. And even if we did, any ship we built with this technology would need to be designed and built from the ground up with it in mind from the beginning, not slapped on after the fact."

Both Neela and T'Maz nodded at B'Elanna's words in agreement.

"Little harsh, ladies, got to admit," I said, thinking on their words. Maybe my ambition and greed had gotten away from me a little there. Unlike the dimensional shift technology, there was no reason to rush into anything at the moment and risk our lives. "What about a heavy shuttlecraft to start?"

B'Elanna paused for several long moments, before answering.

"Maybe. Once we have all the data and have had time to conduct some very small-scale proof of concept experiments," she warned. "The Phaelon may have been using this technology for millennia, but it's entirely new to us. Don't forget that."

"I won't, but please keep an open mind. That's all I ask, ladies," I said with a large smile, having given my crew a big goal to reach for like a good Captain should. Of course, I would be intimately involved in the project, but when you set big goals for your people, even seemingly impossible ones, you oftentimes got big results. "Well, I'll leave you to it, I have a date with a very nice group of ladies to get ready for."

With that I walked out of the room with a skip in my step. The exaggerated eye rolls I saw as I turned was probably just a trick of the light.

XXXXX

Yellow Oval Room. White House.

Taking a deep breath, Diana girded herself before walking into the 'holding room', which was actually the Yellow Oval Room, near the Lincoln Bedroom, where all of Admiral Gothic's, requested ladies, were waiting to begin their weekend of 'hedonism and debauchery'. She was the last to arrive at this little soiree and she was filled with a strange combination of acute trepidation and nervous excitement.

Was she even wearing the right thing, she thought, as she ran her hands nervously over the beaded chiffon blue dress. It was a little blue dress, tasteful, perhaps a little sexy, what she might wear out to a night at the orchestra. What even was the proper attire for an…orgy? Silk scarves? Negligees? Her cleavage was visible, but not overstated; would Admiral Gothic like that? Or would he tear her out of this dress with his powerful hands like a barbarian who had taken a woman by force back to his cave? What would she be asked to do with the other women? Was she excited at the very idea of being forced to do what he wanted, even if she supposedly didn't want to?

She may have been sheltered in the ways of the world, but she knew what happened when a powerful man was 'attended to' by multiple women. She had read ancient stories of Sultans with their harems in the Middle East and knew that no matter how powerful a man was politically, or economically, that no single man could be expected to take care of so many women sexually, so the women were expected to attend to each other when he did not. She had never been with a woman like that! Of course, a certain amount of experimentation in the form of practice kissing was practically a rite of passage in the French boarding schools that she had been forced to attend as a young girl, but nothing more serious than that!

Glancing up and down the tastefully decorated hallway of the White House, there was a distinct lack of Secret Service personnel around. In fact, she had seen virtually no one since she had arrived. She supposed that that made sense, they would not want to advertise what was happening this weekend or ultimately what the cost for it had been. The more who knew, the greater the chance the information would leak to the press.

She, again, had mixed feelings about the secrecy involved. Truly, what she was doing was a small price to pay for such a tremendous gift and even if it came out, she would hold her head high and be proud of the part that she had played in curing cancer, ensuring that cancer was no longer a threat to the human race. The Queen had promised that she would protect her from any fallout, whatever may come.

Knocking gently on the door, she opened it and stepped through. As the name of the room had prepared her for, the walls were curved with bright, warm sunshine yellow paint covering them. Old portraits decorated the wall, a fireplace at one end, with a pair of grey couches facing each other. It was almost like being at home back at the palace.

When she entered, everyone jumped to their feet, to her embarrassment. They appeared to have been talking quietly amongst themselves as they waited for the last of them to arrive. She recognized the musician, Madonna, immediately, having seen her perform once before and having seen her on television many times. The others she recognized specifically from the intelligence briefing that she had been provided with ahead of time.

She stepped up to Madonna, who happened to be the closest to the door.

"Hello, I'm Diana," she greeted with a warm smile, taking the musician's hand in her own. "I am a very big fan of your music and career."

"Princess Diana," the singer replied with a small, awkward bow. "Thank you for saying that. It's wonderful to meet you, I'm Madonna. I'm also a big fan of yours," the singer replied kindly.

The singer was wearing a short black and white skirt, with a white, incredibly sheer patterned camisole top on, covered by a sports jacket. The top was sheer enough to see the singer's large, well-formed breasts and visible nipples. With the jacket covering most things, it was both tasteful and sexy. The singer may very well have picked the perfect combination outfit for this event. With the jacket on and covering her chest, it was tasteful and sophisticated, with it mostly open or off, it was sexy and titillating.

"I love your outfit," she offered genuinely. "I think you chose much more wisely than I did," she said gesturing at the fancy dress she'd wear out under normal circumstances, which this was anything but.

"This isn't my first orgy," Madonna said playfully with a wink. "My first with an alien, though, so that's something."

"It certainly is, isn't it?!" Diana replied with a nervous laugh that burst out of her, impressed at this wonderful lady's easygoing manner, feeling more at ease.

"May I introduce you to Krista Lane, an American adult film actress," Madonna introduced with a mischievous smile, probably finding it amusing to introduce such a lady to a Princess, the lady in question coming forth to shake her hand. "She prefers to go by her stage name in this setting."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Princess Diana," the beautiful American actress offered. She was wearing a tight, bright pink halter top dress that highlighted everything and showed nothing, the woman practically exuding raw sexuality. Her body was practically the archetype for sexual fantasies, which probably was a great help in her career.

"This is Brigitte Lahaie, a French adult film actress, but has some more mainstream film credits as well," Madonna introduced. "Unfortunately, she does not speak English well and my French is practically non-existent. We've been muddling through with broken English and bastardized French for the last half hour."

"Luckily, I spent several years at a French finishing school in my misspent youth," she assured Madonna with a smile. "Hello, Brigitte, I'm Diana, it's very nice to meet you," she said in French.

The beautiful French actress was tall, blonde, and classically beautiful, with large, perfect breasts, and an hourglass figure. She was wearing a white wrap dress, her very large breasts and cleavage being perfectly emphasized. It was somehow virginal, innocent, and yet extremely provocative. These were definitely women who knew how to wield their sexuality and charisma like a well-loved weapon.

"Princess, I'm honored to meet you," Brigitte replied in greeting, a truly beautiful smile on her face. She could see why Gothic had chosen the woman for his weekend of fun. "I'm so glad that there is another French speaker here, since my English is so basic."

"I'd be happy to translate for you, if necessary," Diana offered.

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that," Brigitte replied.

"Perhaps we should all sit down," Diana offered, and they all took their seats on the couch.

They all awkwardly looked at each other, eyes shifting from one person to another for several long moments, before the awkwardness reached a critical mass and they spontaneously erupted into loud laughter and the awkward spell was broken.

XXXXX

Our conversation was interrupted by a large form materializing in the center of the room in hundreds of swirls of bright white light with a curious sound, almost like wind chimes. Exactly in that spot was the very man who had brought us all together in this room and who had truly changed the world forever, Admiral Gothic. He looked around with a large smile on his face, taking in each of us, his gaze appreciative, looking proud of himself almost, like a plan had come together magnificently. She supposed it had, considering that they were all there for him.

When his eyes settled on hers, her cheeks heated up spectacularly, reacting in a way that she thought she had been too old and worldly to experience anymore. The man was truly too good looking to behold in person, rather than on a TV screen or a surveillance photo. Without that barrier or separation his presence was almost overwhelming, and her body started reacting to it immediately. There was a new scent in the air now, and it was intoxicating, and she found her body unconsciously reacting to his presence. Looking out the corner of my eye, she could see her new friends experiencing a similar phenomenon, all of their nipples visibly hardening in their dresses simultaneously. Was Gothic like a mythical incubus from folklore? A lust demon with the power to inflame women's passions just by his very presence?

"It is a rare man who gets to experience his childhood fantasies come true," Gothic offered lightly, breaking the sudden silence. "I am truly blessed to be in the presence of such overwhelming beauty."

"Thank you for that," Madonna voiced, probably what they were all thinking, "but why us?"

"I had always been a fan of your music. Even beyond that, you've served as a role model for women in many different cultures, symbolizing professional and personal independence in a male-dominated society, as well as sexual liberation. You've made a mark on human culture that will persist for decades to come, maybe even longer," he said with a laugh and a wink which made us all laugh too. "In fact, one of your current songs was the first thing I heard when placed in this dimension, so it seemed somehow fitting."

"It's nice to know that my career will have such impact and longevity," she joked back, eyeing Gothic up rather intently.

"It will," he said. "I'm curious if you struggled at all in accepting my offer?"

"Getting to bang the hottie alien in exchange for the cure to cancer? That was an easy decision," she said. "Like I told Diana before you arrived, this isn't my first orgy."

"Technically, this won't be an orgy," Krista Lane corrected. "As you can imagine, my job requires me to be a little more technical with the terms. This is actually more of a reverse gang bang, meaning sex involving two or more women in which one man is the central focus."

Everyone was silent for a few moments after Krista had so bluntly acknowledged the elephant in the room, before nearly all of them burst out laughing. She was left with an intense blush at what had been so blatantly admitted and said aloud.

"Well, it's true!" Krista lamely added, but was smiling all the same, being carried away by the infectious energy of the room.

"I stand corrected," Madonna joked right back, nodding in Krista's direction. "We're going to reverse gangbang you, Admiral Gothic."

"I'm ready and willing!" Gothic shot back with a loud laugh, before noticing that Brigitte could not really participate fully in the conversation. "And please, just call me Gothic. Brigitte, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you weren't a fluent English speaker. Let me correct that," Gothic apologized in perfect French, with a perfect Parisian accent, which she dutifully translated for the rest of the group.

Gothic held up his right hand and a white light appeared in his hand leaving tiny metallic discs behind. It was one thing to see such impossible and incredible displays on a television screen, it quite another to see it in person. He stepped in front of Brigitte.

"When you are a part of a large community of species among the stars, the ability to communicate together is pretty important. In the early days of exploration, it was quite an obstacle to overcome," Gothic explained in French. "These devices were developed to allow instantaneous communication with all known races, in real-time. Normally it's implanted in the brain, but there are several races whose cultural or religious beliefs prohibit such a thing. One disc is placed behind each ear in humans. Can I put them on you, Brigitte? They are perfectly safe for humans, I promise. In fact, I will need to place a set behind each of your ears."

"Yes, please," she quietly replied, gazing into Gothic's eyes.

Gothic placed the discs behind each of their ears and somehow they adhered perfectly.

"Can you understand me now, Brigitte?" Gothic said in English, he asked with a gently smile. "I am speaking in English by the way."

"Yes! Yes, I can understand you! Thank you!" Brigitte yelled happily, a truly beautiful smile appearing on her face. The woman really was gorgeous, especially when she smiled like that, she thought, a moment before Brigitte threw her arms around Gothic's neck and pulled him down into a truly scorching kiss.

Gothic pulled the beautiful French woman in close to his body, pressing her tightly against the hard planes of his muscular form, their tongues dueling each other. Diana, not someone used to such sights in person, began to feel an acute sense of arousal and a heat between her legs. Would Gothic kiss her like that too?

Eventually the two broke up, a prominent blush on Brigitte's face, before she took her place back on the couch, looking overwhelmed. Probably sensing Brigitte needed a moment to collect herself, Krista spoke up.

"Were you a fan of my work?" Krista asked. "Is that why you asked for me?"

"It was," Gothic answered immediately after taking his seat. "The first adult film I ever saw as a young teen, new to his burgeoning sexuality, was Deep Throat 2 starring the gorgeous Krista Lane. It wouldn't be hyperbolic to say that you introduced me to my own sexuality."

"That film won't shoot till next year!" she said. "I just learned that I got the role."

"Well, it'll be good," Gothic replied sheepishly, probably not realizing the film he had seen her in hadn't even been made yet. "You were fantastic in it, so passionate, like it wasn't just acting, like you were genuinely enjoying every moment."

"That's because I do enjoy it," Krista replied with a smile. "That's my secret to success in this business, I'm an unrepentant slut that enjoys what she does."

"Here, here!" Madonna and Brigitte chimed in.

"Was something similar the reason you asked for me, Gothic?" Brigitte asked.

"Pretty much," Gothic answered. "Your films were some of my favorite, both erotic and story driven which is really rare and will become even more rare as the internet becomes what it will be in the decades to come. Your films were so good that many were even translated into English in the years afterward. Plus I genuinely think you are one of the most gorgeous women in porn. When I was brought to this dimension by a god-like being I saw it as an opportunity to live out some previously impossible fantasies."

"Thank you, I think you are similarly gorgeous," Brigitte shot back, an assessing smile on her plump lips. "Perhaps the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life. Agreeing to this was not a hard decision."

Gothic and Brigitte were sending each other some very heated looks, before everyone seemingly turned their attention to me.

"And me, Gothic? Why me?" Diana asked quietly. "I am not an adult film actress, or a musician famous for her sexuality."

"No, but you were a prominent and beautiful woman on the world stage that I always admired," Gothic answered, seemingly honestly. "I always respected you and your work and perhaps to some degree you were the forbidden fruit, an impossible sexual partner that only my current power and circumstance granted me a chance to be with. You are the people's Princess, after all. Part of me was also curious if that famous sense of duty to your people, that you were so famous for, would allow you to accept my offer, given what I was offering. I'm impressed that it did, to be honest. It's rare for someone to actually live up to the public ideal they portray."

"I would do anything for my people, but I must admit, my acceptance was also somewhat selfish," she admitted, with a shy smile.

"You mean that even you were affected by this guy looking like a Greek God made flesh?" Madonna joked. "Shame on you, Princess! You're supposed to lie on your back and only think of queen and country while you do your…duty."

Everyone laughed heartily at how she blushed at this joking admonition.

"I feel a bit guilty with the way I conditioned giving the cure to cancer to the world with your acceptance, having gotten caught up in the excitement of this opportunity. And for that, I truly apologize," Gothic said, looking around at each of them. "A god-like being charged me with sowing chaos, and maybe I leaned into that a bit too hard, knowing that your marriage was…in a bad place. Diana, if you or anyone else for that matter, wants to back out of all this, I give you my word that I will still give the cure to the people of Earth. In fact, I can transport all of you instantly home without anyone the wiser. Just say the word. It is truly your choice."

None of them, including her, spoke up to take his generous offer. She would look back on this in the years to come and feel that she had been the best decision in her life.

"I think we've all made our decision," Krista answered softly, speaking for everyone.

The room became suddenly charged with desire and expectation, yet no one moved. She supposed it was her duty to start them off.

Standing up from the couch, she silently moved to Gothic's seated form, holding out her hands for him to take. His strong, manly hands were placed in hers and she pulled him to his feet. At 5'10" she had always been taller than most of the girls she went to school with, and Charles was exactly her height, which had caused some issues between them in the past, but somehow staring up at Gothic's tall, powerful form, felt quite right.

She lowered her eyes' gaze and focused on how the muscles of his chest were highlighted by his shirt, so she gently rubbed up and down his chest, feeling each muscle. This was a man of personal strength and power, not just the power afforded to him by virtue of his position or an accident of birth like the British nobility she was so used to. Of course his technology likely made him supremely dangerous in a fight, but somehow she could feel the compressed power in his body, ready to be unleashed when called upon. He might even be able to reach out, put his hands around her delicate porcelain throat, and snap her neck like it was nothing. For some reason, that didn't fill her with trepidation or fear, but something else entirely.

Looking up into his eyes, he gazed down at her with a smoldering look. She appreciated how he was letting her take things slow, letting her set the pace of this…lord help her…reverse gangbang. If she never heard or uttered those words again in her life she'd feel blessed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pulled him down to her waiting lips. If she thought he looked and smelled divine before, it was something else entirely to taste him on her lips for real. Without her even realizing it, she had become frantic with desire, his strong hands roaming from her bare shoulders, down her bare back, then down to her sculpted behind.

"I want you to fuck me, Admiral," she said bravely, quite unlike herself, her voice only trembling a little as Gothic began nibbling on her neck and throat.

"I'd like nothing more, my Princess," he whispered into her ear, his tongue running over her earlobe.

She tried to frantically unbutton his shirt, but something wasn't working. Gothic chuckled at her inability to disrobe him, but the look in his eyes was kind, and not mocking.

"That's my fault, Diana, not yours," he reassured her. "My clothing is not strictly real, or what you're used to. The clothing you see me wearing, or deployed, is actually made up of variable nanoparticles, essentially my armor in clothing form, meant to protect me. In its current form it's not meant to be removed as it's actually one contiguous piece made to look like the clothing from this era."

"Then how do I get you out of it?" she shyly asked.

"It may not be as sexy as slowly taking my clothes off, but like this," Gothic said sheepishly, before his clothes turned into something resembling a liquid and slowly retracted into his skin, like his pores were absorbing the clothing, leaving him fully naked.

At the gasps of the ladies around her, an audience that she had embarrassingly rather forgotten about in her ardor, she glanced down. What she saw couldn't be rightly called a 'penis' this was best named a 'cock', a club of flesh that she honestly wondered would even fit insider her, before she set that notion aside as silly and beneath her considering she had obviously birthed two children. This experience may involve two porn stars, but this was no silly adult film with questionable world logic.

"Can we help you get undressed, Princess?" Madonna quietly asked, who she only now noticed was naked. In fact Krista and Brigitte were both already naked, and what a sight they were. She was not someone taken with women, in that way, but she couldn't help but feel each of them was incredibly beautiful in their own ways.

"Please," she demurred, happy at the offer, having just realized that her fellows had been purposely letting things happen at her pace, even letting her start them off because she was, likely by an incredible degree, the most sexually inexperienced among them. It was a surprisingly touching realization that they were looking out for her in a way and were being so thoughtful about it.

The three beautiful women surrounded her, smiling up at Gothic as they lowered the straps of her dress and pulled it up, exposing her lacy French underwear, then her strapless French half cup silk bra, leaving her in just her underwear as it was taken off and thrown somewhere else.

"You're beautiful, Diana, you all are," Gothic breathed out.

She found herself blushing yet again as she looked down at herself, embarrassed. Her fellow ladies pushed Gothic to sit in the middle of one of the couches, then they moved the antique coffee table to the side of the room. She merely stood awkwardly in the middle as Madonna unclipped her bra, slipped it off, then tossed it into a pile of clothes; then slowly pulled her underwear down and off. She was quite proud of the fact that she had resisted the urge to cover herself with her hands, though it was a close thing.

She felt a gentle downward pressure on her shoulders that led her to lower herself to her knees in front of the alien Admiral who had helpfully spread his knees to give her better access, reading the intent of the room. Krista and Brigitte had each taken a side on the couch next to Gothic and were kissing him ardently, first Krista, then Brigitte. When one was kissing, the other was kissing Gothic's chest lovingly, running their tongues and fingertips in the furrows his sculpted muscles made, or feeding their large breasts into his mouth. Gothic's strong hands were around each, squeezing and massaging their sculpted asses like he owned them, like a Sultan with his harem.

She felt Madonna settle on the floor, kneeling next to her, but letting her take the lead, both of them now between Gothic's spread legs.

"Would you like me to start?" Madonna asked gently.

She shook her head immediately and quickly.

Reaching out Diana took hold of that tower of flesh in her soft small hands and began running her fingers and palms gently up and down his length, her thumb applying pressure on the underside, which from the groans Gothic was making, he rather liked. Eventually she mustered up the courage to lean forward and take him in her small mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his cock, her hands playing gently with his large balls, her tongue lathering the head thoroughly.

Thankfully, he let her take her time as she took him deeper and deeper in her mouth, her head bobbing more and more frantically on his length. With her eyes closed she only felt his strong, but gentle hand come to rest upon her head and thread in her hair, yet not pushing her down to choke on his cock or forcing the pace to increase. No, she did that all on her own, to her internal surprise at how bold she was being, forcing herself to take more and more of his nearly 10 inches into her mouth, gradually replacing her best depth as time went by.

When she reached her limit, nearly choking, she swallowed repeatedly, trying to bring Gothic pleasure, before she ran out air and with a gasp quickly pulled herself up and off of his cock, taking deep, gasping breaths. Madonna, spotting her opportunity had come, grabbed that cock and angled the head in her direction before she plunged her mouth down on it, her spittle liberally and sloppily falling down his length as she pleasured him.

When Madonna pulled back and offered Gothic's cock back to her, she plunged herself down again and vigorously pumped his shaft with her hands, twisting her wrists repeatedly. And again when she reached her limit she pulled off and let Madonna pick up where she left off. This was the pattern for the next few minutes.

"Diana, I'm going to come," Gothic warned as she bobbed on his length, but didn't stop and didn't pull back. In fact she got more frantic and took him even deeper before he erupted into her mouth, and she struggled to swallow the sheer impossible volume that resulted. She ran her hand along her fellow partner's naked back, threading her fingers in Madonna's curly hair, before she pulled off and forced Madonna's face and mouth to replace hers on his cock, letting the pop star enjoy too the fruits of their pleasurable labor.

The taste was unlike anything she had ever experienced before and yet, for some reason, she felt energized and just plain better, which was in direct opposition to the acute fatigue she had felt only moments previously. When Gothic's climax ended, Madonna leaned back, also looking as dazed as she felt.

"Why do I feel so good?" Diana asked, nearly breathlessly, feeling overwhelmed with good feelings and energy. "This isn't normal, is it?"

"It definitely isn't," Madonna answered breathily, almost dreamily. "It's like the high you get from drugs, but somehow way better, more pure. What is this, Gothic?"

Gothic looked torn for a moment before he acquiesced to their questioning.

"I've actually never admitted this aloud before, but as an Augment, a human genetically engineered to the peak of the current human form, my bodily fluids, like my semen and my blood, can have beneficial health effects on other humanoid species when imbibed or injected," he answered. "My sexual partners have reported feelings of euphoria, new energy, and a period of enhanced general wellness, high performance, creativity, and self-healing/recovery that will eventually wear off with time. If any of you are suffering from any kind of disease or illness, my blood will cure you or heal you, which I know sounds a little crazy."

"It does sound crazy," Diana asked. "Is this normal for humanity in the future?"

"No, not at all; I'm quite unique in that regard," Gothic admitted with a chuckle to the women who were listening intently to his every word. "In fact, it's something I've tried desperately to hide as it could cause a lot of problems for me with unscrupulous people if they ever learned of it."

"I understand," she replied, seeing how that could be very dangerous, as she crawled into his lap. "But I really want you right now!"

Her fellow ladies chuckled at the statement of wanton desire from a prim and proper Princess.

Reaching behind her blindly she couldn't quite find Gothic's cock, but Brigitte gently helped her by taking Gothic's cock in hand and rubbing it down the length of her extremely wet and ready slit. When it was in position she plunged down on it and screamed in pleasure at the feelings she was confronted with.

Her pace was unsustainable, wild, frantic, but she bounced on his cock like a woman possessed, and when her energy flagged after several minutes, his strong hands gripped her under her butt and lifted her effortlessly, letting her drop down on his cock repeatedly, her pussy enveloping him.

Not to be left out, she felt Madonna lick at the point of connection between Gothic and herself and the feeling was strange at first, but overall really amazing. Krista and Brigitte, also not to be left out, took her breasts in their hands and mouths adding new feelings that she had never felt before, even pulling her head to the side to sloppily kiss her.

With this level of stimulation, and feelings she had never experienced before, it was no surprise when she quickly neared her peak.

"I'm going to come! I'm going to come!" she yelled, her breath heaving, her body flushed with blood. "Come with me, Gothic, please!"

"Where do you want it?" he asked, like a gentleman.

"Inside! Inside me, please!" she answered, feeling like she'd come undone at any moment.

"Are you sure? You know what might happen, right? Even if you're on birth control, there is a good chance it won't work with someone like me," Gothic asked, slightly slowing down her riding to delay her orgasm for a few moments.

Years later she would remember this moment and her answer fondly, never regretting the answer she gave in the heat of the moment that led to her beloved third and youngest son being conceived and eventually brought into the world. He was one of the lights of her life and a much-loved brother to her children from Charles. She wouldn't want to imagine a life without him in it, nor the world, considering the mark he'd made upon it.

"Yes! Yes! I don't care!" she practically screamed.

"The lady has made her decision, I think," Madonna observed in a serious tone, smiling, yet perhaps aware of the significance of Diana's choice and knowing that she and the others would need to make their own such decision shortly.

With a grunt from Gothic and a piercing scream from Diana, her body seized up in orgasmic rapture, her every sense overwhelmed by the most pleasure she'd ever experienced in her life, before the darkness claimed her, and she knew no more.

XXXXX

Waking up from what felt like 8 hours of great sleep, Diana felt energized and just plain great as she laid covered by a soft blanket on one of the room's two couches, like a hundred aches and pains she hadn't realized she had always been feeling in her life had been stripped away.

Coming to full wakefulness, she heard grunts, groans, and screams of pleasure, of skin rhythmically clapping against each other. Sitting up and turning to the bed, she was confronted with quite the sight of debauchery and hedonism, but for some reason couldn't be phased by it in her present state of contentment.

Krista was lying on a bed, on her back, with Brigitte lying directly on top of her, their large breasts pressed together obscenely as they sloppily made out with each other. Gothic was behind the two of them, thrusting his large cock alternately into one for a bit, then switching effortlessly into the other, sometimes spanking Brigitte's ass so hard it rippled and left a red handprint behind. Krista and Brigitte were obviously loving the treatment. It was a strangely beautiful sight to behold.

The clink of a china teacup on a saucer alerted her to the fact that someone else was laying comfortably on the other dueling couch, finally noticing that they weren't in the Oval Yellow Room anymore but had been moved to the Lincoln Bedroom.

Turning her head she found a naked Madonna taking a sip of tea and having a few small finger sandwiches from a beautiful golden tray that rested on the coffee table. Her vagina was red and inflamed, but the singer looked as happy as can be.

"I needed to tap out for a bit and recover my strength," Madonna admitted, sounding chagrined, shaking her head amusedly as she looked between her and the debauched activity taking place on the nearby bed. "I thought I was a sexual badass, but compared to those three I may as well be an amateur. Thankfully, Gothic replicated some drinks and food when I asked. The tray is made of real gold, can you believe it? In the future they can just make gold from nothing, so it doesn't actually have value anymore. Crazy, huh?"

She nodded, that was, indeed, pretty crazy.

"How long have I been out of it?" she asked, not feeling at all embarrassed at her nudity considering everyone else's state.

"A couple of hours," Madonna answered with a chuckle. "You had a big one there. When you passed out Gothic teleported us all into this bedroom, then moved you to the couch and got started with us. They're already on round 2."

Madonna sounded impressed, and she couldn't help but be too, taking in the sight in front of her. The two beautiful ladies were flushed and had a fine sheen of sweat on their bodies, but Gothic wasn't sweating at all. What kind of insane stamina did the man possess that satisfying four women couldn't wear him out? Somehow, she could sense that they were wrapping up for now, though.

"You may want to watch this, Gothic has a super cheating cheater finishing move that he uses when he wants to really end with an exclamation point," Madonna said with a smile.

Gothic had obviously heard her because he turned his head mid thrust and sent them both a wink and a smirk before turning back to the work of ruining his two current sexual partners for all other men. She already felt a bit ruined by the intense and transformative sexual experience with him. She had previously thought that passing out from sex was a literary fiction, only found in poorly written bodice ripper novels.

"What a showoff," Madonna whispered, a fond smile on her lips.

Watching Gothic's toned and muscular ass tense and release with each thrust was hypnotic, but she drew her eyes away when he raised his right hand out in a dramatic showman fashion and a futuristic looking device appeared in his hand, when it had previously been empty. It looked like a futuristic gun but had a silvery metallic ball on the end that became covered with neon blue energy. As everyone's mutual climax was nearly there, he pressed the glowing blue metallic ball against Brigitte's spine and it lit up bright blue, seemingly activating and highlighting all the nerve endings. Brigitte came virtually undone, there was no other word for it, screaming her head off in pleasure. Then Gothic pressed the glowing blue ball to his own cock and thrust it into Krista who reacted the same.

Her eyes were wide with shock as she took this all in.

"He did the same to me. It's like touching the face of God," Madonna whispered reverently, like she was recounting a religious experience.

She noticed that Gothic had cum inside both of them. It seemed everybody had made the same decision that she had; what might come of that she didn't know and at present, didn't particularly care. That was something for future Diana to deal with.

Feeling inspired and rejuvenated, she got up and draped herself across Gothic's muscular back and pressed her breasts against him, hoping to entice him again, placing kisses all along his spine as her hands went to work on his cock still wet with the juices of the women he'd just made pass out with pleasure.

At the moment, she didn't care about that one whit.

'Could a person be irrevocably changed so quickly?' she thought, but eventually told her overactive mind to shut up and just enjoy the moment.

XXXXX

Bridge. Onboard the Flighty Temptress. In orbit of Earth.

"Report!" I called out as I walked onto the bridge.

"You know, it makes you look silly when you do that, you know that, right?" B'Elanna asked from the engineering station on the bridge.

"I thought that's what all good Starfleet Captains did to show how cool and important they are when they walk onto the bridge, like they are meant to be the center of the universe," I answered. "That's like lesson number 1 at Starfleet Academy Command Track, isn't it."

Her eyes definitely rolled at that.

"All microdrones have been recalled and the data you requested has been saved in our database," B'Elanna finally complied with my command, giving her report.

"Very good," I said as I took my seat in the luxurious Captain's chair and let a small smile grace my lips as I thought of the weekend of debauchery I had just had.

An impossible fantasy had been fulfilled and the ladies I had spent the weekend with had had a lot of fun too. Our goodbyes had been sad, and they had shed a few tears when I told them that I would be departing this reality soon. Thankfully, I had added that holographic camera to my armor systems so I could recreate the whole experience should I ever want to, or even build new holo-characters based off of them in any future programs that I wrote.

'Jarvis, have all the Trusts been set up should my weekend prove…fruitful?' I asked.

'Yes, sir,' Jarvis instantly replied. 'Each Trust has been funded with $10 million in starting capital for each child born. Appropriate corporate Trustees have been retained, and the mothers will be notified of the total available Trust funds the instant the Trustees learn of any births taking place in the appropriate time frame.'

'Can you up the Trusts to $20 million each before we depart?' I asked.

'Yes,' Jarvis replied after a moment or two of processing.

'Do so,' I ordered.

'The appropriate funds and amendments to the Trust documents have been transferred and made,' Jarvis replied nearly 30 seconds later.

'Very good, thank you, Jarvis,' I said, glad to have a personal assistant that I could count on to handle stuff like this so that I didn't have to. 'And our gift to the world?'

'Ready and waiting for your order,' Jarvis answered.

"Hermione, Scarlett," I called aloud, causing both of my digital daughters to appear on the bridge. "Are we ready to deploy the package?"

"Fabrication has been completed per your design and the package is ready for deployment into orbit," Scarlett replied.

"Deploy the package," I ordered and in the next moment the bright light of an active transporter beam deposited a large object into high orbit of Earth before it shimmered and cloaked to hide itself from sight and detection.

While I was moving on from this reality, I wanted to leave something behind, just in case. The final design of the package combined several different technologies together and was autonomously scalable depending on the need. In essence, it combined the functionality of an Echo Papa 607 command and control system with a fabrication module, and a communications satellite with quantum-entangled communications array.

This would serve as a beacon to this reality, allowing me to more easily travel back here should I ever desire it, or even communicate in real time with the people of this dimension. It would also allow my systems to maintain real time communication and observation of this Earth's development. And finally, it would allow me to protect this version of Earth if they ever went off the rails entirely, or an alien race threatened the planet. Should an external threat appear that this Earth couldn't handle on their own, the satellite had instructions to begin replicating/fabricating all the Echo Papa 607 weapon drones necessary to defend the planet against the specific threat.

"Are we ready to leave, everybody?" I asked, standing up and walking close to the main holographic viewscreen.

"We are ready to depart, Captain," T'Maz answered for everybody.

"All right, begin final broadcast," I ordered.

All around the world every radio and communications frequency, and every television station was highjacked again and my audiovisual signal was broadcast to the entire planet.

"People of Earth, this is Admiral Gothic. I am about ready to depart this reality on my travels but wanted to leave a final gift to the world. It is not of technology or riches, but of a better future. At this very moment, the cure for cancer, all cancer, at every stage of progression, is being transported to every medical research facility around the world, along with the instructions to create more of it. It is my gift to the whole world and not something that should ever be patented by any one party to have control over or to profit from. It is to be freely shared and made available so that suffering and dying from cancer will become a thing of the past. It is my sincere hope that my revelation of alien life will be a turning point in your development and will lead to a brighter and more prosperous future for all humankind. Goodbye and good luck. Gothic out."

"Everyone, prepare yourself for the dimensional jump," I said taking a seat back in my captain's chair, my seat's harness snaking around me to secure me in place like they already were, an active shield bubble becoming around me visible for a moment before fading to invisibility.

With that I stretched out my index and middle fingers and pressed the green glowing button in my HUD that simply read 'JUMP'. Q really must think me to be only a slightly more intelligent talking monkey. To be fair, from his perspective, he was probably right.

The moment I pressed the button, everything went silent, like someone had muted the universe, and then a bright white light consumed us all.

XXXXX

Unknown Universe. Somewhere on Earth's surface.

Coming to consciousness was again a slow and rather aggravating process considering how good I normally felt as an Augment. My head was pounding, and I felt groggy again like I had gone on an all-night bender with the boys and was now suffering the requisite hangover. Being an Augment normally meant I never had to deal with those kinds of consequences anymore.

In fact, this felt exactly like I had upon waking up in that club in Fort Lauderdale in the Flight of the Navigator dimension, including the lack of any kind of connection with my armor, my omnitool, my ship, and my other resources.

Why Q delighted in moving me from my ship to the planet's surface, suppressing my Augment abilities, and turning off all my technology, I didn't know. Maybe he was fucking with me? Always a possibility. Maybe he was protecting me somehow from the dimensional transit in some manner? Also a possibility. Maybe it had something to do with keeping my arrival low key in whatever universe this was? Other high-level beings like Q may be able to detect us arriving. Bottom line is that I had no idea, and it was probably ridiculous to even speculate about it given how little information I had to go on.

Slowly opening my crusty eyes I found myself looking up into the sky. Nice fluffy clouds, a blue sky, only a single star visible. That didn't narrow the list of planets I could be on, but as Q had said I would know the various dimensions he put me on, my money was on this being another version of Earth.

While I hadn't noticed it before, there was a low, continuous cacophony of noise, like low groans and the shuffling of many feet. What the fuck was that?

Looking around I figured I was on my back, and there were raised walls on all sides of me.

Was I in a truck bed?

Just as I had programmed it in case Q pulled this bullshit again, my omnitool activated after detecting it had been deactivated through unknown means and was following the pre-programmed steps of reactivating my synaptic transceiver, which brought online my connection to my omnitool, then my connection to the ship which was in orbit again.

Vicinity scans detected a ton of fucking movement all around me, but no detectable life signs, which was really strange, so I decided to sit up and take a look for myself.

Sitting up and glancing around, I used all of my self-control and all of the self-discipline I'd achieved from being in pitched combat for years on end, to keep myself from yelling in surprised shock at what I was seeing all around me. Then just as quickly, laid back quietly, hoping I hadn't been detected.

I could be on the bridge of my luxurious starship, but no, no, that wasn't good enough for Q who was definitely fucking with me right now. What purpose could there be other than fucking with me when he placed me in the back of an abandoned pickup truck on a highway, lying it its cargo bed, abandoned vehicles all around, while also all around me, surrounding me even, were what were quite obviously hundreds, maybe even thousands of decaying and mindless zombies, walking mindlessly in a large herd looking for prey to tear apart and devour.

Fucking Q!

XXXXX

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Chapter 46: 13,500 words

Chapter 47: 17,482 words