Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 TITLE: Captain and Titanette - Origins
AUTHOR: Big Al
KEYWORDS: MF cons fant ScFi piv impreg size 1st F1st
UNIVERSE: Nexus Empire
SUMMARY: A powerful young woman on the run is aided by a handsome,
dashing - and well hung - man.  Set in the Nexus Empire, an original space
fantasy setting of my own devising.

   **********

   AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is actually the first Nexus Empire story I began
writing, though it's only just now finished.  It's unfortunately got some
possibly-boring exposition in it, and not as much action as I'd originally
planned.  Hopefully the sex scene at the end makes up for it.  Enjoy!

   **********



   The Geetoral spaceport was brimming with life and activity.  Chatter and
laughter dominated the docks and the harbor town beyond, but beneath that
were undercurrents of violence - both muggings and killings - that were
ignored by everyone else.  Gaudy lights flashed here and there, and quack
mages sold their elixirs of immortality.

   Llorenne brushed off one such quack, shoving past him as he attempted to
stand in her path and proffer her his free sample.  "Keep those fine green
features forever, lassie!" the blue-skinned half-elf,
half-gods-knew-what-kind-of-alien, flashed a grin that was missing several
teeth.

   The 18 year old girl suppressed a shiver.  Not bloody likely, she
thought.  She resolutely went on, hearing perfectly the muttered curse the
hawker said under his breath.  After all, she had super hearing.  She
longed to take to the air, instead of crawling down on the ground with
these lowlifes, and looked enviously at the various hoverbikes, speeders,
pegasi, and other flying craft and species zipping about overhead.

   She wrinkled her nose as the distinct odor of rotting flesh assaulted
her nostrils.  A quick glance with her titan-given vision spotted shuffling
zombies offloading a pegasi caravan, and she sniffed in distaste.  On a
civilized world, there were strict bylaws governing how necromancers could
use undead servitors in public; but Geetoral was about as far as you could
get from the center of the Nexus Empire, and still be in one of its 9
galaxies.

   Llorenne absolutely hated this cloak-and-dagger stuff.  But she couldn't
fight the whole Empire.  She still wasn't quite sure how that last bounty
hunter on Klas III had found her; but then, nothing in her training had
prepared her for a life on the run.

   She was sick and tired of running.  She just wanted to be left alone. 
But how?

   Someone fat and heavy bumped into her, and she pushed back, remembering
just in time not to apply her full superstrength, and the being burbled
delightedly at seeing her.  "Mmmm," it said in a gurgling rasp.  "I do like
me some succulent goblin flesh." Though short, the being was still a good
foot taller than Llorenne, but just as wide as he was tall, with a beak
instead of a nose and mouth, a low wide-brimmed hat, and violet moonsilk
robes.  A monocle perched upon its left eye.

   He leered at her - well, Llorenne presumed it was a leer; it was hard to
tell with that beakface, but her telepathy definitely picked up animal lust
in the alien's mind - and she recoiled.  "I'm no strumpet!" she retorted,
appalled - yet, somehow, there was a certain...  charisma to the strange
being, one completely at odds with his grotesque form, and she found
herself intrigued despite her repulsion at his proposition.

   "C'mon lassie, don't be like that," he said, and pressed a coin into her
hand.  Llorenne opened her mouth to snap at him angrily, when she was
nearly overwhelmed by psychic sensation.  Yes, there was lust there, but
strong and powerful rather than petty and desperate, but more than that...
there was a message.

   Trust me.  Follow me.  We're being watched.

   Llorenne blinked several times.  There had been a psychometric message
imbedded in the coin!  She looked at the being again, and there was a sly
glimmer in its eye.  "See, I knew you would come around," he said.  He
pressed more coins into her hand, and promised, "More where that came from,
if you'll spend some time with me aboard my vessel."

   There were no more messages imprinted on these coins, and Llorenne knew
this to be for the sake of keeping up the act - assuming they were indeed
being watched.  But was it Project Godling that had found and was watching
her...  or something else completely unrelated to her, and now she was
being sucked up into this weird creature's schemes?

   The robed creature offered her his arm, and she took it hesitantly.  It
wasn't like she had any better options.  Her skin tingled slightly as she
touched his flesh, albeit through the fine material of his purple robe. 
Why was she drawn to him?  He was repulsive in every way!

   They made their way through the spaceport, to a privately reserved
docking bay.  With thumbprint and retinal scans, the creature who might be
a friend let them in, and Llorenne saw his ship.  It was a luxury cruise
vessel, an Alicorn-1700 Mark Gamma.  It was sleek and small on the outside
but featured tesseract compartments within so that it was bigger and more
capacious on the inside.

   Well, the creature certainly was at least upper middle class, the young
girl figured, with the kind of money to afford that ship.  He brought out
his datapad, which hovered in front of him as he used his free hand to
punch in the ship's locking code, and the boarding ramp disengaged from the
hull, revealing an opening hatch.

   "I think we will get along quite well, my girl," the creature said again
in his gurgling rasp, and she detected a double meaning in his words.  She
didn't know what he intended; her telepathy could only sense a lascivious
avaricious merchant in his mind.  But even were he to prove a threat, she
knew she could easily overcome him.

   As the docking hatch closed behind him, the alien's demeanor changed
utterly.  He drew up to his full height, which was only a couple more
inches, but an air of confidence and domination exuded from him.  "Thank
you for trusting me, girl.  Those Wraiths watching you will have seen us
going into this ship, but the hull itself is shielded.  Since they haven't
had Merchant Holjiband under observation before, it will take them some
time to refocus their resources to penetrate the oracular blanking here. 
We only need a few moments."

   Llorenne furrowed her brow.  "Who are you?  Who is Merchant Holjiband?
What are these Wraiths?"

   "One moment," the alien said.  "We need to teleport out of here while
we're hidden.  May I have your permission to teleport us to my ship?"

   Llorenne studied him.  "Where is your ship?"

   He seemed to smile, or tried to.  The beak was inhibiting his facial
expressions, as though he wasn't quite used to it.  "118 docks down.  Also
blanked."

   The young girl thought.  "If we're being watched, won't a teleportation
signature be detected leaving this ship, and tracked?"

   The alien raised its eyebrows at her cockily and picked up a odd,
primitive-looking device that was totally at odds with the rest of the
luxury accomodations on this ship.  "Not with a ground feed," he said. 
"This tech hasn't been used in thousands of years, but it's still
incredibly useful if you know how to apply it.  Well, at least if you're
only 'porting a short distance," he allowed.  "It runs through a phase wire
laid through the ground from this ship to mine, and I rigged it to
disintegrate after use, so there will be no evidence of how we escaped."

   Llorenne nodded, impressed despite herself.  "Okay."

   "If you'll touch this," he profferred the device to her.  There were two
blinking lights on it, both blue, and she did as he asked, pressing a
finger to one of the lights.  He touched his finger to the other, then
spoke a mystical command word.

   She had teleported hundreds if not thousands of times in the 18 years
she had lived thus far, but this was different.  Grittier, with a slight
tingling as she reappeared.  Primitive tech indeed.  She looked around.

   This alien's true ship was not luxurious, but more functional.  It
wasn't uncomfortable necessarily but clearly built with purpose rather than
hedonism.  Her awareness as a witchlord detected several tesseract
compartments in here too, so this ship was also bigger on the inside.

   "Welcome to the Star Whore," the alien said, with no small amount of
pride, and Llorenne couldn't help but giggle at his outrageous name for his
ship.  The alien took a wand off a bulkhead rack and touched it to himself,
uttering another mystical command word.  Llorenne watched as the creature's
flesh sloughed and flowed, utterly reforming.  A polymorph spell!

   "Much better," he said once his transformation was complete.  His voice
was deep and sonorous now, and he grinned at her.  He discarded the purple
robe, revealing normal clothing beneath.  "Captain Aldarond Half-Elven, at
your service."

   Llorenne's eyes bugged out of her head.  He was smoking hot!  He towered
over her, several inches over 6 feet next to her 5 feet in height, and was
broad-shouldered and evidently rippling with musculature beneath his
clothing.  He had shaggy dark red hair falling nearly to his shoulders,
with his pointed ears poking out, and his eyes were a sweet sensuous brown.

   He exuded sexuality.  Her every nerve lit on fire as she breathed in his
musk, which thickened the air.  And she couldn't miss the significantly
large bulge in his trousers.  No wonder she'd been drawn to him.  Even
polymorphed, his magnetism had shone through.  Her skin flushed, with both
desire and embarrassment.

   "Now then, lass," Aldarond said, "as pretty as that goblin face and body
are, why don't you show me your much prettier true self?

   She regarded him, then dropped her psychomystic illusion.  Now it was
Aldarond's turn to study her appreciatively.  He licked his lips as he
looked her up and down ostentatiously, and Llorenne's teenage cunt quivered
under his scrutiny.  Her body, while otherwise petite and slim, sported a
huge pair of tits perched proudly upon her chest, each one perfectly round
and as large as her head.

   She had long sunny ringlets falling well past her cute round ass, and
her face was angelic, with baby blue eyes, a button nose, and a plush
kissable pink mouth.

   "You are drop dead gorgeous, lass," Aldarond said, and she knew he meant
it.  Just as her telepathy revealed that his physique was his true one, and
not the result of further polymorphing.  She blushed.  "Now, I've
introduced myself.  Care to return the favor?"

   "My name is Llorenne," she said softly.  "What's going on?  Why have you
helped me?"

   "Well, that's a right story there," the half-elf said.  "I'll share mine
if you'll share yours.  Deal?"

   "You mean, you don't know anything about me?" she said, surprised.

   "Just that you're a gorgeous young girl.  And there's a bounty on you. A
big one." Instantly the girl's expression grew guarded.  Aldarond held up
his hands.  "Whoa now, I'm not thinking of trying to collect on the bounty.
I've seen you make mincemeat of the other hunters who tried.  But yes, I am
a bounty hunter.  And no, I'm not going to turn you in."

   "Okay, then," Llorenne said.  "What's your story?"

   "A month ago, a new bounty was posted," the captain began.  "Bigger than
any I've ever seen.  3 billion credits, alive.  Even the Butcher of Sovilek
was only 2.3 bil, and he murdered dozens of planetary populations.  Yet
you're just a young girl.  There were no details as to why the Nexus
Commissars wanted you, just your description, species, and a flag that you
were to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.

   "Any bounty hunter worth his salt would know you might be more trouble
to capture than your worth, but that 3 billion credits lures a lot of
people." Llorenne nodded.  She'd had to face enough hunters to know that
already.  "You are obviously not worth anything politically, or your
identity would be well-known.  So I dug deeper.  Most people, at least
those in my business, know that the Commissars post bounties on the
galactic net, but even though they're always officially designated to be
from the Commissars' Tanthor HQ, most of them never actually are.

   "If one traces any given bounty, the actual posting could come from
anywhere.  A sector office, a field agent, you name it.  Any person or
institution with Commissar authorization to post bounties in the name of
Imperial stability.  But that's the thing.  You WERE posted directly from
the Tanthor HQ."

   He fixed her with a meaningful glance.  "Which either means you did come
from Tanthor - unlikely, as no one's ever heard of you - or you're involved
in something so hush-hush that whoever wants you gave the bounty order to
the Commissars to be posted directly from their HQ."

   Llorenne was fascinated, and not just by the half-elven man's resonant
baritone or the rising and falling of his muscular chest beneath his shirt.
This bounty hunter was thorough and intelligent.  "Well, you're right about
that," she said, finally cracking a smile.  "I'll tell you all about it,
but finish your story first.  How did you find me?  Who's watching me?"

   "You're not that hard to find," Aldarond said.  "Granted, you're not out
in the open, but to anyone with the right resources and the right skills
and the right motivation, you can be tracked." Llorenne flushed.  She'd
tried to be careful, really she had, but even with all her powers, using
them for laying low was not among her skill set.  "I knew the Wraiths would
be watching you, someone as important as you obviously are, so I needed a
way to approach you without revealing my identity to them, and then a way
to get out of their sight once I had you."

   "A polymorph spell is a brilliant idea for disguise," Llorenne allowed,
"no illusions that can be seen through.  Like mine," she guessed.

   He took his monocle off.  "This is a PODS - psiocular descrambling lens.
Saw right through your psychomystic illusion." He tossed it almost
carelessly onto a table.

   She peered at it, scrutinizing it with her hypervision and x-ray sight.
"That's some serious magitech," she said.  "Where'd you get it?"

   "I'm very good at what I do," he shrugged.

   "But how did you fool my telepathy?" the big-boobed girl wondered.  "I
couldn't sense anything in your mind except what matched your act."

   He tapped his temple.  "I've got a clever blanking chip implanted.  It
doesn't just blank oracular scrying and psionic signatures, but puts a fake
aura of thoughts out in its place.  That way whoever is spying doesn't KNOW
I'm blanked."

   "Seriously," she said, putting her hands on her hips now - and looking
devilishly hot in the process, she caught the thought in Aldarond's mind -
"where are you getting this magitech?  And who are the Wraiths?  And who is
Merchant Holjiband?"

   "I gather you're a telepath," Aldarond answered.  "Why don't you look
into my mind?  Might be quicker that way."

   Llorenne studied him, pursing her plump lips.  "You'd let me do that?  A
complete stranger?"

   "Like I could stop you if you really wanted to do it," Aldarond said,
quirking his lip in a devilishly handsome smile that melted her 18 year old
heart into a puddle of goo.  He was right; she was extremely powerful
telepathically, more than enough to rip into his mind and extract whatever
information she wanted, but he'd extended kindness and sanctuary to her, so
that wouldn't be right.  "But I have a good feeling about you."

   "More likely, you're letting your cock do your thinking for you," she
countered, giggling, and he laughed, not denying it.  She could definitely
see the desire glimmering in his mind, but it wasn't a petty demeaning
greed for her flesh; rather it was strong, pure, virile lust, tempered with
a respect that would never touch a female against her will.  "Here," she
said, holding up her hands and floating off the ground - gods, it felt good
to fly again, even if it was only to hover above the deck inside a starship
- towards him.

   He bent his head, his skin tingling pleasantly as her hands touched his
temples lightly.  "Ah, so you're a tactile telepath, eh?"

   "No," she said.  "This just makes it gentler on you.  Reminds me that
there's actual mortal flesh here I have to be careful of when I'm looking
into your memories." Very masculine mortal flesh, she thought, licking her
bottom lip cutely.

   He was quiet then, and his thoughts, feelings, and memories cascaded
across her own mind.  His whole life was splayed out before her senses, and
it was a wondrous thing, full of adventure, excitement, and especially
freedom - something she craved, and had never known for any part of her
life, unless you counted her time on the run in recent months.  But most of
all there was his utter virility, the sheer manliness of his persona, and
it intoxicated her mind.  Particularly since there were numerous - hundreds
if not thousands - of steamy liaisons with hot horny girls of various
species, often several at a time, throughout his memories.

   But Llorenne focused, and concentrated on the particular memories and
cerebral nuggets that she intuited that Aldarond wanted her to see.  She
watched him, at the age of 18, enlist in an imperial military academy, and
rapidly rising to become the top cadet that the institution had seen in
decades.  Both the supercommando corps and imperial intelligence wanted him
for their ranks, and he was on the fast track to qualifying for black ops
supercommando training.

   And she saw that the hundred year old, yet gorgeous and seemingly
youthful, Ealoa headmistress of the academy took a fancy to the young man,
and bedded him frequently, to their mutual delight.  Although Aldarond
wasn't attempting to deluge her with those intensely pleasurable memories,
only the fact of their existence, Llorenne couldn't resist indulging, her
nipples hardening as she saw the sensuality in his mind.

   But she moved on, and saw that, in his second year as a cadet, while in
bed with the headmistress, she broke down and told him truths that were
highly classified.  She told him that she was a scout for the Wraiths, the
supersecret enforcement arm of imperial intelligence, that none save the
Wraiths themselves and the imperial high council knew the existence of.

   "And now me," teenage Aldarond had said, furrowing his brow.  "Why tell
me?"

   The headmistress had pressed herself into his arms, purring lightly as
he stroked her supple back, her boobs smooshing into his muscular torso as
she nuzzled her cheek into his chiseled pecs and stroked an utterly massive
erection rearing from his crotch.  "Because I have not told them about you,
as I should have months ago."

   Aldarond had groaned in pleasure as the woman's hand ran lightly along
his veiny mast of cockmeat, and Llorenne's mouth dried with hunger as she
saw it in his mind.  He had said nothing however, waiting, and the
headmistress had continued, "With your skills, they will recruit you.  And
there is no refusing them; either you work for them willingly, or they
telepathically alter you to be loyal and committed.  And then you will
disappear.  You will become an elite among the elite, but always in the
shadows, never seen, never known."

   Aldarond had said, "I don't know if I could do that." The headmistress
had known, and Llorenne could see it in his memories now: Aldarond was the
sort of person that the spotlight shone on.  His exploits were legendary
and notorious in equal measure among those of the academy and his
homeworld. To smother such a man in total anonymity...

   "I would not want that of you," the headmistress had said, leaning down
to suck on his bulbous knob between words.  "But the Wraiths will find out
about you eventually, if you remain a cadet here.  So you must quit the
academy before they discover your existence and recruit you..."

   There were more words, but more sex as well, and Llorenne watched that
memory in desirous fascination long after the words had ended, as the
headmistress had worshipped his magnificent cock with her mouth until he
roped hot jizz inside her throat...

   She eventually sorted through the rest of the memories the captain was
mentally proffering to her.  After quitting the academy, he put his skills
to use as a bounty hunter, becoming well known as among the most capable.
But with the knowledge of the Wraiths' existence, he kept his eyes open,
and began seeing many things that were secret; not only the Wraiths, but
advanced magitech found only in certain corners or centers of the universe,
and other hidden things most terrible and wonderful.

   So when the odd bounty for the mysterious titanette had been posted, he
did some digging, and discovered traces of what he had suspected: the
Wraiths were involved with her.  The traces wouldn't have alerted anyone
except those who already knew of the Wraiths' existence, but they were
enough for him.  He tracked Llorenne, and had also found the Wraiths
observing her.  Not direct evidence of said observation, but those subtle
traces again.

   So he had pulled from his database of resources - places, persons, and
items of interest that he had compiled over his bounty hunting career - and
found that a wealthy but unconnected merchant called Holjiband was on
Geetoral.  Exploiting that fact to impersonate the merchant, he had
approached Llorenne - and the rest she knew.

   Except for WHY he had done it.

   Aldarond opened his thoughts to her, and she saw - he was interested in
a partnership.  She was clearly very capable, even if he didn't know her
exact skills, and his intuition told him she was worth pursuing.  She was
astonished by his boldness; on the strength of his research and intuition,
he had gone to considerable effort and risk to ensure her safety.

   "You want me to be a bounty hunter with you?" she said incredulously. 
Truthfully the idea excited her; she wanted that freedom and adventure that
she'd seen in his mind.

   "Imagine the fun we'll have," he grinned lopsidedly at her, making her
pussy quiver wetly, "and the trouble we'll cause.  Now then - you don't
have to tell me your story, if it's personal, though I'd love to hear it if
you want to share."

   She impulsively hugged him.  His arms wrapped about her, and she felt
snug and secure - and sexy, with his crotch twitching a bit into her
stomach.  "You're the only person who's stuck his neck out for me," she
said.  "I've seen your mind - I want the life you have.  And I can tell
you're a good person.  Even if you are a rascal," she added teasingly.

   He laughed.  "I'm glad to have a pretty and capable lass working with
me."

   "And I do want to tell you my story," she said.  "Or show you,
telepathically."

   "Alright," he smiled warmly, and she let her memories flow into him.

   And so Aldarond knew that Llorenne was the center of Project Godling, a
top-secret weapon developed in an Imperial Foundry under the auspices of
none other the Prime Techarcanist of the Artificers herself.  She'd been
created from spliced genetics and magical runes, incubated for decades in a
vat of amniotic alchemy, before forming into a fetus and growing several
more years before being released from the vat as a infant girl, 18 years
ago.

   She was a titan - one of that nearly immortal, super-strong, obscenely
powerful race - but had titanic abilities an order of magnitude stronger
than any other (save the reclusive Titanlord himself).  She also was
infused with internal mana and psionic levels of phenomenal strength, and
was trained as a witchlord all her life, as well as taught the arts of
physical combat with a laser sword, like an imperial knight.  Titans were
devastating in combat, one-man armies due to their superhuman abilities,
and she was trained as a supreme combatant.  She was preparing to be the
ultimate supersoldier for the Nexus Empire, and looked forward to the day
she would see action.

   Until she discovered a few months ago that the artificers were never
planning to send her out on missions.  Instead, she was to be paired with a
male and BRED...it was her offspring, who would breed true, who would be
the supersoldiers, while she remained cooped up as the mother of an
ever-growing brood, fertilized by whatever male the artificers chose for
her.

   "I can't blame you for fleeing," he said quietly, squeezing her gently,
his arms still around her.  "No woman should ever have a mate forced upon
her."

   She was immensely gratified that he understood.  "Thanks," she said.

   "We should probably leave the nine galaxies," he said a moment later. 
"We've lost the Wraiths for now, but they have their fingers all over the
Nexus Empire.  I set up an extra bedroom for you back there," he added.

   She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a glimmer in her eyes
that he recognized, having seen that look on many a girl.  "Before we get
started," she cooed, "I want to...to make love with you."

   It wasn't all that surprising to him, given that he had this effect on
women.  "Are you sure?" he hesitated.  "I mean, the whole reason you're on
the run is that you didn't want to--"

   "I didn't want a mate chosen for me, without my say or will," she said.
"But I choose to give myself to you.  That is my first act as a free woman.
I want you to make me a woman, and to feel your manhood within me."

   His cock gave a powerful throb, and she giggled.  He lifted her chin
slightly and leaned down to press his lips to hers.  An electric shock
thrilled through her at the touch, and she moaned, her body quivering with
pleasure and desire.  He picked her up, his lips never leaving hers, and
she cupped his cheeks and wrapped her slim legs around his waist, grinding
her crotch into his.  Despite the fabric separating them, she could feel
the heat of his cock throbbing along her needy pussy.

   Then their clothing was gone, magicked away by a mere wish in her mind,
and Aldarond chuckled throatily, groaning in pleasure as his fleshy rod
ground directly along her hot nether lips.  Llorenne gasped and moaned in
pleasure, her dew anointing his shaft, even as his cock ballooned into its
full size, a magnificent 18 inches in length, thicker around than her
forearm.  The knob beat like a heart between her lush boobs, spilling his
cock-syrup all over them.

   Lust was firing pleasure centers in her brain, as she hovered her hips
slightly away from him - with him pulling his hips back at the same time -
so that his tremendous fuckpole could pull from her torso to position his
bloated knob at the entrance to her steaming hot teenage cunt.  She cooed
in delight as she felt that giant cockhead pulsing against her nether lips,
and bore herself down.

   Aldarond could feel how puffy and plump her mound was on his knob, and
his shaft was bathed in her fuckhoney, which was flowing liberally.  He
rammed his cock up into her, and Llorenne's breath flew from her in a hot
gasp of shocked delight.  His immense girth split her hot silken virginity
wide open, filling her with delicious pleasure such as she had never
dreamed, and his giant dick plunged deep inside her slippery cock-hungry
cunt.

   She threw her head back and shrieked in obscene delight as his steely
fuckpole cored her pussy, stuffing her to the brim and beyond, his cockknob
popping through her cervix and into her outrageously fertile, constantly
ovulating womb.  Her eyes crossed with bliss as he deformed her cunt and
womb, sliding in and out of her in powerful thrusts, his cantaloupe-sized
balls smacking wetly into her bubble butt each time.

   Llorenne's mind reached out to his, and joined them in a psychic
connection, letting them feel each other's pleasure.  Ecstasy spiked at
double strength through them both, as her drenched, sopping twat milked his
phenomenal jackhammering dick frenziedly, all while he plowed her
ruthlessly.

   With the doubled rapture, neither could hold off any longer, and
Llorenne thrashed in climactic tsunamis as Aldarond bellowed.  His obese
nuts boiled over, and his immense shaft bulged even fatter as ropes of
porridge-thick cock-pudding spewed up through his massive cockmeat directly
into her womb.  His geyser of piping-hot baby batter filled her up and
slathered her eggs in cockslop, flooding her innermost core with it.

   Over and over he poured his enormous load into her, as her deflowered
pussy gushed her fuckhoney, rejoicing in the pillar of virility that
speared her and pumped her full of molten jizz.  And when they were done,
neither were sated.  He carried her into the bedroom, and began pounding
into her cunt again as she writhed beneath him, her hard nipples scraping
along his chiseled torso as she screamed in overwhelming bliss....

   *****

   Deep within an Imperial Foundry, a frost giantess worked on several
projects at once.  Rune-covered machines assembled themselves in mid-air at
her will, and strands of reality were re-engineered in multiple hot labs
she monitored via holo.  A new holo popped up - an outside communication.
With a thought she accepted the holocall, and a short humanoid man
appeared.

   "Prime Techarcanist," he addressed the frost giantess, "we have...lost
the target."

   The frost giantess - leader of the imperial order of artificers - raised
her eyebrow at him, but said nothing, continuing her work on dozens of
devices and rituals at once.  The man continued after a moment, "we hope to
restore surveillance shortly.  I'm putting one of my best men on the job,
Major Eyebeard."

   The Prime Techarcanist finally spoke.  "I'm sure you will, Minister.  As
of Chief of Intelligence, you perform your duty well."

   The Chief Minister of Intelligence - for so the caller was - eyed her
shrewdly.  "You're unconcerned for a reason."

   "You weren't interfering with her even when you had her surveilled," the
frost giantess pointed out.

   "By your orders," the minister reminded her.

   "Indeed," she nodded.  "She will continue her journey whether or not we
are aware of her every move.  And she will find a mate.  Someone who speaks
to her on a pheromonal and genetic level.  Someone who will breed our army
of supersoldiers upon her."

   "And then we will bring her in," the minister promised.

   "I rather suspect she, and her mate, will come back willingly, at least
at some point," the frost giantess said.  "Time is of little matter,
however.  Whether today, or a hundred years from now, she will breed, and
the Nexus Empire will have its godlings..."

   **********

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