Fantasy Making of a Starship Captain

They were supposed to have been rescued by now.

It had been more than three days. The Westerner should have been back by now. When Lieutenant Talent failed to establish radio communications with them, he should have sent down the other shuttle to investigate. Talent knew exactly where they had landed.

But there was no Westerner, and no Survey Service Marines.

This thought weighed heavily on Taylor's mind, as well as the next trial of Haddad.

The final one.

Ankara had shown them the Hive right after lunch. The Hive contained a creature called the Razorback. The Razorback was some kind of alligator with very sharp teeth. It lived inside a burrow which had many holes leading into it. The holes were big enough for a man to put his hand into.

This was the final test, the so-called test of wisdom. In this test, each contestant would be required to put his hand into three of the holes. The contestant "won" if the Razorback didn't slice off his hand with its diamond sharp teeth.

"You can't do this! I won't let you!" Jennifer cried.

"You won't let me?" said Taylor. He looked amused. "What were you willing to do to get the Birtallen, Jennifer?"

Jennifer turned away.

"Jennifer, I asked you a question."

"Anything," she said softly, still not facing him.

"Exactly," said Taylor. "We're Survey Service officers. We have a job to do. I have to do it."

She turned around, and she pressed her chest against his. "But I don't want you to."

"Wants... don't enter into it," said Taylor, looking at her beautiful, beautiful face. "The test is not until tomorrow morning. Maybe the Westerner will get here by then. A lot can happen between now and tomorrow."

"You're right, it can," she said, looking quickly away.

"I have been beheading infidels since I was 15," Abduellah boasted during dinner. They were eating some kind of meat from an unidentifiable sand creature, a giant lizard, perhaps. Abduellah was getting grease in his beard, but he didn't seem to mind. "I have killed dozens of infidels, hundreds!" He turned to Taylor. "How many have you killed, Survey Service gentle-man?"

"Thousands," said Taylor bluntly.

"Thousands?" said one of the women seated at the dinner table.

"Or perhaps more," said Taylor. "I killed those who opposed me. I killed those whose women I wanted. I even killed those who looked at me in the wrong way." And he turned and gave Abduellah a pointed stare.

"You lie," said Abduellah angrily. "Prove it!"

Taylor shrugged. "I have no need to prove anything to the dead."

Ankara smiled, and felt a tingling between her legs. This was the kind of dinner banter she enjoyed. The discussion turned to the women they had conquered. Abduellah was boasting of deflowering his first virgin when he was only 14.

"Fourteen?" Taylor smirked. "Then you obviously didn't know how to satisfy a woman."

"And you do?" said Abduellah.

"Of course," said Taylor. "I slept with women in front of their husbands. I slept with teenage girls in front of their parents. I fucked them blind until they screamed with joy. I can close my eyes and still hear them crying out as I filled them with my potent seed." He looked over at Ankara. Her breasts were heaving as she breathed heavily. Taylor looked back at Abduellah. "How I please a woman can hardly be compared to your own puny efforts... to your victims, you probably felt like little more than a pipe cleaner."

Abduellah's eyes bulged with anger. Taylor lifted his drink and made a silent toast and smiled as he brought it to his lips. He showed no fear. Ankara loved him for it.

Suddenly Jennifer was dragged into the dinner tent, with her arms pinned behind her back by a woman warrior.

Jennifer.

She had gone to use the bathroom several minutes ago. What had happened?

One of the women warriors went over to Ankara and frantically whispered into her ear, and handed something over to her.

Ankara's eyes grew wide. She pounded the table and stood up. "This woman was found in our tent of worship!"

"I, I got lost, I made a wrong turn," said Jennifer. "All these tents look alike."

Ankara held up something in her hand. "They found you with this." It was a standard issue Survey Service communicator.

Suddenly, it all became clear in an instant. Jennifer had been trying to find their comm units which had been taken from them, to see if she could get in touch with the Westerner. She was trying to save Taylor from the final Rite of Habban tomorrow. He looked into her eyes and saw it all as plain as day.

"We also found a copy of the Book of Blood on the ground," said one of the warrior women. There was an intense murmuring of all the warriors assembled.

"There was a book on top of things," said Jennifer, looking around at their faces. "I put it down gently. Believe me, I meant no disrespect!"

"What you meant is of no consequence," said Ankara. "Infidels are not permitted to touch a copy of the Holy Book. The penalty for that is... death."

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. Taylor sprung to his feet, but was instantly surrounded by guards with swords.

"You requested an audience, Captain?" Ankara purred.

Taylor was in her private tent. The only other ones there were her hefty slaves, Leroy and Eduardo. Ankara was sitting in her high chair, wearing a soft furry robe.

"Yes," said Taylor. "I want you to spare Jennifer's life. She acted out of ignorance."

"Ignorance does not excuse blasphemy, Captain," said Ankara, smiling coldly at him. "What would you do to have me spare your woman's life?"

Taylor paused for a moment. "What would you have me do?"

Ankara gave a glorious smile. She slowly opened her robe. Her glorious breasts and pubis came into view. She spread her legs, and Taylor could see her nether lips. They were thick and pink and fleshy. Ankara looked into Taylor's eyes, and saw the horror and the repugnance. It excited her, making her nipples start to stiffen up.

"On your knees, Captain," said Ankara. She couldn't wait to see the great Captain Taylor, pleasuring her in such a humiliating fashion.

Taylor looked at her for a long moment.

"I have to do it!" said I Love Jennifer.

"Don't. It's a trap!" said Perception.

"What do you mean?" I Love Jennifer Asked.

"Look here." Suddenly, they were in a chamber with a giant eye above them. There was a glowing platform, and on it was a hologram of Ankara. There were artists busy painting on old fashioned canvases. Perception pointed to what they were painting. "Look."

I Love Jennifer looked at what the artists were painting. Except they weren't painting scenes, they were painting words.

WANT TO BE DOMINATED.

SEXUALLY REPELLED BY OBEDIENCE.

NEEDS TO BE CHALLENGED TO CLIMAX.

"Are you sure?" I Love Jennifer asked. "If you're wrong...."

"You're a seasoned Survey Service officer. You're no longer a fresh recruit out of the Academy. Trust yourself!"

"No," said Taylor simply.

"No?" Ankara couldn't believe her ears. "On your knees, Captain! On your knees or your Little Whore will die screaming, I promise you!"

Taylor paused for a long moment, and stared into Ankara's eyes. She had him. She knew it.

Taylor shrugged and said, "Kill her then."

"What?" said Ankara.

"Kill her then," said Taylor.

"You want me to kill her?"

"I'd rather you didn't," said Taylor. "But I have other women I can sleep with."

"You must mean the thirteen other female members of your crew," said Ankara.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," said Taylor, staring her down.

Ankara wrestled with unfamiliar emotions. "You... you won't make love to me?"

Taylor shrugged. "I suppose I could."

Ankara swept her hands over her breasts and vagina. "Don't you find me attractive?"

Taylor gave an exaggerated show of peering at her exposed parts. "I'm sure that most men would find you... very attractive."

"Most men?" said Ankara.

"I'm not most men," said Taylor.

Ankara took a deep breath, and her breasts surged forward. She felt her nipples getting firmly erect. "I could kill you for saying that," she said, her eyes ablaze.

Taylor swaggered up to her, supremely confident, strutting like a peacock, with his chest thrust out, and his chin held high. He gently caressed her under her chin. She found his touch electrifying.

"You could," he smiled. "But you won't." And then he reached down and kissed her.

It wasn't just a kiss. A kiss was the pressing together of lips. What Taylor did was much more than that.

Ankara felt his body moving close to hers, pressing against her hard. She felt a hand on the back of her head, playing with her hair, as if she were already his. His other hand roamed her back, as if exploring new territory, his fingertips gently moving up and down in such a soothing way.

The kiss changed as it went on. It got firmer, it got faster, and it got more furious, as Taylor grinded his lips against the Emiri's. Taylor bit down on her lower lip and Ankara moaned, even as he continued to take her. She suddenly got the feeling she was being used not just by a man, but a real man, one worthy of her body.

And then, when Taylor pulled back, he didn't ask, "How was it?" as a less confident man would. He simply smiled at her, that knowing smile, the smile that told her that he knew what he did to her was good, and he knew it for a fact without asking because he had done it so many times before, to so many other women. All that was communicated with one simple look.

And then Taylor, without looking back, took her by her hand and pulled her down to her furs. He started kissing and touching her all over, and before long she was nude, and so was he, and he was on top, making love to her.

Ankara felt his confidence, his self-assurance, his manliness, and it excited her. Taylor didn't ask, he took. And then at that moment she finally realized what she wanted, what all women wanted: to be in control, but with the illusion of not being in control. Ankara killed her husband and fled Ramada because she refused to be his slave, as all women are on Ramada, but in the bedroom she wanted to be a slave, she wanted to be dominated, and that was exactly what Taylor was giving her now.

Taylor kissed her roughly, biting and nibbling her all over, leaving soft red teeth marks and grasping bruises all over her body. Ankara loved every moment of it. And then he abruptly entered her without any warning, and Ankara gasped as she felt his fullness.

As Taylor thrust into her, Ankara put her arms around him. "Is this how you do it?" she asked. "Is this how you do it with Jennifer, and the other women of your crew?" she asked.

And then Taylor looked at her sternly, as if she had spoken out of turn, and said, "I have never done it the same way twice," and he rotated his shaft inside of her to make that point. Ankara gasped as she felt so totally used. She hadn't been so pleasantly surprised in such a long time. She looked up at Taylor's big, hairy chest as he thrust into her, at his firm masculine jaw, and deep green eyes and felt like she was being used by a real man for the first time in her entire life

Taylor realized he needed to do everything he could to keep Ankara stimulated. He remembered one of Sarah Blade's most important lessons.

"The sexiest part of your body can be your mouth, Michael," she had said, as she grinded her body against his. "And I don't mean just for kissing. Say whatever you need to get your woman to climax."

"What should I say?" Taylor asked.

Sarah had looked him in the eyes and kissed him repeatedly. "Whatever it takes."

"You are my slave," said Taylor, in a deep voice.

"What?" said Ankara.

"You are my slave," said Taylor.

"I am no man's slave!" said Ankara, getting enraged and even more aroused.

Taylor started to pump her even harder with his shaft. "And I am no man. I am a God."

"Blasphemy!" Ankara yelled.

"I am your God!" Taylor roared. "Submit before me!"

Ankara's hand snaked down underneath her pillow, and came out with a dagger.

Taylor slapped it out of her hand, and pinned her arms above her head.

"Slave!" He roared. He started pounding into her with everything he had. Each time he thrust into her, he said a single word. "Slave. Slave. Slave. Slave. Slave."

"Oh," said Ankara.

"Slave."

"OH!" said Ankara.

"Slave!" Taylor said, thrusting extra hard.

That did it.

"OOOOOH!" Ankara cried. She had a massive, shuddering orgasm, one that radiated out of her cunt through her entire body. Her chest flushed, her body trembled, and she felt sexual lightning from head to toe. Her climax triggered Taylor's, and he smiled grimly as he flooded into her with his manly Survey Service essence.

Some time later, Ankara said, "That was... something different. Something I haven't felt in a long time," she said.

"Does that mean you will spare Jennifer's life?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," said Ankara. "I will spare your woman's life. Even though she is not your woman." She enjoyed the expression of surprise on Taylor's face. "Nor any in your crew, for that matter."

"You knew?" said Taylor.

"Of course," said Ankara. "I knew it was all an act." Her hand played out over his hairy chest.

"Then... why...."

She looked into his eyes, and kissed him. "Because, my pet, your act was so very good."

The next morning, Jennifer hugged Taylor when she was released from confinement. She looked into his eyes. "What did you do to free me?"

Taylor stared at her cockily. "Whatever I had to."

Jennifer blushed.

Taylor looked around, squinting in the morning sun. "I still don't see a rescue party from the Westerner. They're overdue."

"I guess that means you'll have to do the last challenge," said Jennifer. "They say that... thing can eat a man's hand." She caressed Taylor's hand tenderly. "Do you have to do this, Captain?"

Taylor bit his lip and nodded.

There were many entrances to the hive of the Razorback, each the width of a man's arm. Women warriors banged the sides of it with sticks to get the Razorback roused.

Taylor noticed that Abduellah couldn't stand still. He was actually vibrating in place. He appeared very nervous. His pupils were dilated, and his hands were shaking, and his clothes smelled heavily of Weed. He probably used the drug to try and overcome his anxiety. A pity it didn't seem to be working.

"And now we come to the final Rite of Habban: the Trial of Wisdom," said Ankara. "Each of you will put your hand into three of the tunnels of the Razorback's den. If you emerged unscathed, you will be declared the winner."

"And if we don't?" Taylor asked.

"Then you will be short a hand," Ankara smiled. She turned to Abduellah. "You will go first."

"Me? Why me?" Abduellah asked.

"Because I say so," said Ankara, looking longingly at Taylor.

Abduellah took a deep breath. And then another. And then another.

"This is not breathing class, Ramadhan," said Ankara sternly.

Abduellah nodded, took another breath, closed his eyes, and inserted his left hand into one of the holes. He quickly pulled it out and gave a happy grin.

"Very good," said Ankara. "You have two more holes to go."

Abduellah's smile vanished as quickly as it had arrived. He looked over the choice of holes. He picked another one, and inserted his left hand again, and quickly pulled it out.

"Two," said Ankara, sounding impressed. "One more to go."

Abduellah looked really nervous now. He spent time looking over the holes, listening for sounds of the Razorback, and thinking. Finally he selected a hole, plunged his hand in, and-

Screamed at the top of his lungs, and pulled out a bloody stump.

"Aaaaah!" he yelled. "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he screamed.

Women warriors jumped forward to wrap the stump in bandages.

"I'm afraid you lost," said Ankara, giving a small smile. She turned to Taylor. "It's your turn, handsome."

"Wait!" Jennifer cried. "Since Abduellah lost, that means Michael won!"

"No," said Ankara. "If Taylor does not participate, then Abduellah wins by default."

"Please, no," Jennifer cried, stepping in front of Taylor. She looked imploringly at Ankara. "Please, don't make him do this. I'll do anything you want. Anything."

Ankara smiled. "You already have done anything I wanted, Little One. And quite a memorable anything it was." She enjoyed the expression of surprise on Taylor's face. Ankara gently pushed Jennifer aside, and stared into Taylor's eyes. "So what will it be, Survey Service man?"

Taylor stared at Ankara with the same level of determination. Then he said, "No, I don't think so."

"So you concede?" said Ankara.

"I concede nothing," said Taylor, in a deep voice that gave both women a secret thrill. "This is called the Test of Wisdom, is it not?"

"It is," said Ankara.

"Not the Test of Bravery. Not the Test of Courage, or the Test of Falafel Making Skills. But the Test of Wisdom," said Taylor. "I spent a lot of time thinking about that yesterday. The first test was the Test of Bravery. It made sense, as we were fighting the Subarru. The second test was the Test of Agility. That also made sense as we fought while swinging from ropes. The third test was the Test of Endurance, which also made sense, as we were in a pot of boiling hot water. But this test... this test here makes no sense. A Test of Wisdom? There is no wisdom into sinking your hand into a random hole, possibly to get it chewed off."

Taylor looked at Ankara's face closely. A hint of a smile started to form. "I think that this final Test of Habban was about something else. Habban wanted a First One who was strong, and brave, yes, but not a complete idiot."

"Mike, what are you saying?" Jennifer asked.

"I'm saying that the way to win the Test of Wisdom is not to play it," said Taylor. He looked at Ankara for confirmation.

For a moment, Ankara said nothing. But then she broke out into a broad smile. "You are correct, Taylor. If I didn't know that you were an infidel, I would say that you sound very much like a scholar of Laquinta."

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me since we got here," said Taylor.

"The nicest?" said Ankara, taking a step closer and looking into his eyes.

"One of the nicest," said Taylor, suppressing a grin.

"The rocks are yours," said Ankara. She opened her palm, and revealed a communicator. "Your ship has been calling you every few minutes for the past hour. I think they are worried about you."

Jennifer cried out and gave Taylor a hug.

It was over.

"Sorry we were delayed, sir," said Lieutenant Talent, arriving at the head of a squad of Survey Service Marines.

"You got stuck in traffic, eh?" Taylor said. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jennifer suppressing a smile.

"Traffic?" Talent seemed puzzled. "No sir, it was customs on Ujamaa II. They said-"

"Never mind what they said," said Taylor. "There are piles of extracted Birtallen at the mining site. Come, I'll show you."

They were ambushed halfway before they got there. Five men in dark clothing jumped out from behind rock croppings and attacked, waving curved swords. The Survey Service marines parried with their compression rifles. One of them lunged for Jennifer, but Taylor body slammed him, and they both fell to the ground. As Taylor wrestled with the Ramadhan fanatic, his shirt ripped.

The Survey Service marines fought with the Ramadhans, and quickly subdued them. So did Taylor. He got up, breathing heavily, his hairy chest muscles flexing through the giant hole in his shirt.

"There's just one person missing," said Taylor, looking around. He ran ahead, quickly followed by Jennifer and Lieutenant Talent. When he got to a clearing, he saw a figure, running in the distance. A one handed figure.

"He must have a shuttle parked nearby," said Taylor, watching him run. He held out a hand. "Compression rifle!"

"Sir!" Talent handed over his weapon.

Jennifer watched as Taylor adjusted the weapon's firing power to setting eight. "Revenge, Captain?"

Taylor squinted in the morning sun. "Why not?"

He lined up the rifle's sights, and aimed carefully.

"He looks to be almost out of range, sir," said Jennifer.

"Almost," said Taylor. He tried to remember everything Major Shalikashvili had taught him. Breathe, Taylor.

Taylor inhaled, and exhaled. His finger tightened on the trigger. Inhale. Exhale. He aimed at little more than a dot on the horizon.

Inhale. Exhale.

And then he squeezed the trigger.

There was the tiniest of sounds, like a popping of a balloon, and the fleeing figure fell to the ground.

Taylor, his chin up, and his chest thrust out, never even bothered looking to confirm the kill. He simply tossed the rifle back to Talent, and said, "Come on. We still have work to do, if we're to get that Birtallen to Tarsis IV in time." He walked at a fast, swaggering pace back to the mining camp, and never looked back, even as Jennifer and Talent followed.​