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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/480317-Chapter-4-First-Impressions
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by Ninja Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1200204
The story of a mentally tormented man who becomes involved with a new kind of woman.
#480317 added January 10, 2007 at 1:13am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 4: First Impressions
The Zentraedi flagship was huge, even for such gigantic women. Miriya was walking briskly through the corridors for the next twenty minutes. About ten minutes in, she placed me gently in the cleavage of her partially unzipped BDU jacket.

I looked around at the other giantesses who either didn’t notice me or gave me curious looks.

Eventually, we arrived at a grand door, which upon entering a password in an electronic door lock, Miriya entered into a vast room full or what looked like doctors, scientists, and soldiers sitting around a round table. Miriya walked up and sat down at the last empty seat, setting me down in a deep, clear tray that somehow moved to the center of the table after I was placed in it. All of the curious, peering eyes were fixed upon me.

“Umm, hi,” I said nervously looking around at my audience.

A giant hand slammed down on the table and a harsh voice shouted: “SPEAK ONLY WHEN SPOKEN TO MICRONIAN!”

“CALM DOWN,” another voice said gently to the first voice.

Then, the tray was moved mysteriously to one of the Zentraedi. I looked up into her eyes and she looked down into mine.

She was so attractive I could barely concentrate to look at her dark eyes. She had long black hair straight down except for a single, thin braid off the front side of her head. She wore a black BDU with red accents, contrasting her beautifully pale skin. Her breasts were large, filling her cleavage quite nicely, and some of her lightly muscular stomach was exposed. She looked me up and down and smiled. She stood up and back from the table, revealing her long, sexy legs. She struck a salute and said in a strong voice: “SUPREME COMMANDER FELICIA. REPORT MICRONIAN.”          Her voice was quite pleasant, beautiful like a songstress.

“Captain Robert Michael Behrens the Second of the Robotech Defense Force,” I reported, returning her salute and then remaining at attention. My eyes were straight forward so she brought her face down to my level.

‘CAPTAIN BEHRENS,” Felicia began, diverting my attention completely to her black lipstick and dark eyes. “YOU ARE THE FIRST PRISONER OF WAR THAT OUR ARMADA HAS PUBLICLY ACQUIRED. YOUR GOVERNMENT HAS REFUSED PROPOSALS OF A PRISONER EXCHANGE, PERHAPS BECAUSE THE P.O.W.S IN THEIR CARE ARE NO LONGER LIVING.” She took on a dark expression. “NO MATTER THOUGH. WE WILL MAKE ENOUGH USE OF YOU TO EXPOSE THE FOOLISHNESS OF YOUR GOVERNMENT. HERE YOU ARE.” She produced my Desert Eagle that had been confiscated previously and handed it to me. “PRIMITIVE BUT EFFECTIVE NONTHELESS.”

I took the pistol and examined it. It was in perfect shape, virtually unchanged, even with the loaded clip I had placed in it moments before my capture. I smiled and placed it back in its holster. “Thank you,” I said to Felicia with a slight bow.

She smiled warmly and stroked my head. “TRUE WARRIORS SO NOT LIKE TO BE PARTED WITH THEIR TRUSTED WEAPONS,” she commented, drawing a large Zentraedi-sized pistol of her own from a holster on her right thigh. She pointed it at me.

I didn’t flinch. I studied the odd energy weapon without moving. “Sexy,” I said smirking, “and the gun’s not too bad either.”

Murmurs rose from out of the crowd, some pronouncedly angry while others were excited or curious. Felicia’s rolled her eyes, and her smile turned into a sarcastic one.

“I apologize, commander. I’m out of line,” I said but was hushed by Felicia’s finger over my mouth.

“I AM EDUCATED ON YOU CULTURE, MICRONIAN,” Felicia stated, having her finger go back to stroking my head. She holstered her gun. “I HAVE FOUND FAVOR WITH YOU, LITTLE ONE. PERHAPS IF MORE LIKE YOU CAN BE FOUND, TOTAL ELLIMINATION OF YOUR SPECIES WILL NOT BE NECESSARY.”

A chill passed down my spine, and I looked deeply into Felicia’s eyes, seeking some kind of contentment or peace-making authority. I found what I was looking for and released a deep breath.

“NOW TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT,” Felicia ordered, abruptly removing her hand and sitting back down in her chair. She and all the others were staring at me.

“Ex, excuse me?” I asked, confused and wondering what was going on.

“NOW, NOW, DON’T QUESTION ORDERS,” Felicia said, laughing and sitting back in her chair. “DON’T MAKE ME HAVE TO TAKE IT OFF FOR YOU. BESIDES, IT’S PURELY SCIENTIFIC.”

“Of course,” I replied smugly, rolling my eyes. I unzipped my flight jacket to start with. I swung it around in the air, but no one got the joke, so I tossed it to the ground, leaving me in a flak jacket and a wife-beater. I removed the flak jacket and tossed it also to the ground. It seemed to me like the Zentraedi were staring harder now. I looked down at myself and shrugged. Whatever, I thought. I took off the wife-beater and threw it down. “What now?” I asked in dull voice, holding my arms straight out and turning around a few times to display myself.

The Zentraedi looked at me and began murmuring amongst themselves again. Some of them pointed, and the mood did not feel entirely scientific.

“NOW,” Felicia said, calling the room to order, “DRAW YOUR WEAPON, CAPTAIN BEHRENS.”

More confused, I complied with Felicia’s command, drawing my Desert Eagle and letting it hang at my side.

“FIRE IT AT ME,” she said looking at me and my pistol, “IN THE WAY YOU FEEL WILL INFLICT MAXIMUM DAMAGE.”

Still confused, I gave Felicia a look to which she provided no response. Not having any real alternative, I cocked my gun and aimed for Felicia’s eye. I dead centered my aim and pulled the trigger.

There was no shriek but instead a blurred motion in front of her face. “YOU’LL HAVE TO TRY HARDER THAN THAT.” With her words, she pulled up her hand and displayed in it a bullet: spent.

Shocked, I looked down at my pistol, then down at the spent case on the floor of the tray. I had heard the blast and felt the recoil. The shot had fired… and she had pulled her hand from her lap, caught the bullet, and returned her hand to her lap. I was stunned.

Felicia gave a broad smile and then said: “OKAY, I WON’T DO THAT AGAIN BUT YOU DON’T SHOOT ME IN THE EYES. GOOD CHOICE BUT FOR THIS DEMONSTRATION: TOO EFFECTIVE.” She straightened her face again. “FIVE SHOTS LEFT, NOW GO ON, HURT ME!”

Nearly instantly after she finished her words, I shot her in the neck then fired three shots in the exact same spot on her forehead, and then fired my last bullet in the side of her nose, perhaps two human inches from her eye. All of this in about two and a half seconds.

Felicia closed her only her right eye by reflex. There was a tiny dot of red on her neck and a larger, oozing wound on her forehead. She gritted her teeth. Then, after a moment, she smiled and clapped. “EXCELLENT JOB, MICRONIAN.” She commended me as the other Zentraedi murmured. “SHOT PLACEMENT OF THAT KIND OF ACCURACY IS RARE. SIX SHOTS OF THAT WOULD DAMAGE BONE ON A ZENTRAEDI.” She grimaced as she took her fingernail and dug into the wound on her forehead. She dropped three small pieces of metal on the table and wiped the blood from her forehead. “I’LL LEAVE THE OTER TWO AS A REMINDER OF YOUR SKILL,” she stated taking a deep, lazy breath. Then she turned her attention to the Zentraedi. “LADIES,” she began, obviously starting a speech, “THIS MICRONIAN IS A PERFECT SPECIMEN OF THE COMBAT POTENTIAL OF HIS SPECIES. HE IS A LITTLE DEMON OF A FIGHTER, WITH PILOTING CAPABLITIES TO RIVAL SOME OF THE MOST SKILLED ZENTRAEDI PILOTS.”

There were upset and disorderly whispers rising now, the crowd being displeased with Felicia’s remark, most apparently Miriya.

She did not let it sway her. She called attention to a huge color monitor on the wall behind her, saying: “YOU ALL SAW THE DATA FROM MIRIYA’S ARMOR. THIS MICRONIAN MANAGED TO SHOOT DOWN THREE EXPERT PILOTS IN SUPERIOR CRAFT WHILE IN CONFRONTATION WITH FOUR FEMALE ARMORS. I BELIEVE THAT IF THE MICRONIAN HAD BEEN BETTER EQUIPPED, HE WOULD HAVE NOT CRASHED AT ALL BUT INSTEAD VANQUISHED THIS SQUAD AND ALL ZENTRAEDI FORCES IN THE VICINITY.”

The shouts rose up once again only this time Miriya stood up and slammed her fist into the table, causing me to jump. Miriya stared Felicia dead in the eye and growled: “IF I AM TO BE INSULTED AS SUCH THEN I CHALLENGE BOTH THE MICRONIAN AND YOU TO DUELS, FELICIA!” The crowd cheered on Miriya, then fell silent when Felicia stood up.

Almost as if she had not heard Miriya, Felicia continued. “TO REACH MY POINT, I AM GOING TO INITIATE A BREEDING PROGRAM WITH SELECT MICRONIANS, TEMPORARILY SUSPENDING OUR PROTOCULTURE CLONING SYSTEM IN FAVOR OF A MORE EFFECTIVE CROSS GENETIC MATING SYSTEM, FOR THE MOST ELITE PILOTS OF COURSE.”

The crowd whispered energetically now, as Miriya and Felicia stood staring each other down.

“THEREFORE,” Felicia continued, not breaking gaze with Miriya, “THERE WILL BE A REWARDED COMMISSION TO CAPTURE MICRONIAN ACE PILOTS AND STRATEGISTS.” Felicia smiled as the crowd murmured approval. “OH YES, AND MIRIYA, YOUR HONOR WILL BE UPHELP AND YOU SHALL BE SATISFIED. I GRANT YOU DUELS WITH BOTH ME AND CAPTAIN BEHRENS.”

Miriya smiled and sat down, a look of confidence and pride on her face as the crowd chatted and began to stand up.

“THE TERMS,” Felicia explained, pacing slightly, “ARE OF MY CHOOSING AS I HAVE BEEN CHALLENGED. YOU WILL FIGHT ME IN THE ARENA AS HAS BEEN TRADITION SINCE DAYS OF OLD. ON BEHALF OF CAPTAIN BEHRENS, I WILL CHOOSE; SELECTING VIRTUAL REALITY CRAFT COMBAT WITH LOCATION AND SUCH OF HIS CHOOSING. YOU WILL BOTH USE CRAFTS OF YOUR OWN CHOOSING.”

“AWW,” Miriya commented sarcastically, leaning over the table towards me, “CAN’T I FIGHT THE MICRONIAN IN THE ARENA?” She laughed and then sat back and stood up.

Felicia laughed sarcastically then sneered. “YOU WILL FACE ME FIRST, TOMORROW, AND THEN CAPTAIN BEHRENS THE NEXT DAY.” To my amazement, the large wound on Felicia’s forehead was now completely gone.

Miriya saluted loosely and then turned around and left the room along with all the others except Felicia, some of them scolding and others giving commendation.

Now it was only me, without a shirt, in a clear tray on a table, and Felicia remaining in the room. I yawned and began to put my shirts back on, leaving my flight jacket unzipped. I looked up at Felicia when she looked down at me.

“I INTEND ON MAKING YOU MINE ALONE, LITTLE ACE,” she said in an absolutely sexy voice while undoing her BDU top, exposing her elegant black bra, and taking off her odd boot/sandal/heel looking things, leaving her barefoot. All of her polish was black.

“Yikes,” I said longingly, my thoughts of the future turning into lust for her erotic behavior. I tried to look cool, then gave up as she reached down and picked me up.

“YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY,” she whispered, setting me between her titanic breasts. “LET’S GO TO MY ROOM.” And with that we were off.
© Copyright 2007 Ninja (UN: darkninja at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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