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File: 128329429945.jpg-(12.64KB, 225x264, Marvin_the_martian.jpg)
5359 No.5359
The iron manacles chafed at his wrists as Duck Dodgers, hero of the 24th and a half century, struggled against them. He pushed himself as far away from the smooth stone wall as he could, straining against his bonds, before relaxing and leaning back against it with a sigh. It was no use; he was good and trapped this time, a captive of Queen Tyr'ahnee, the undisputed matriarch of the entire Martian Empire. Dodgers closed his eyes and brooded over the mistakes that had resulted in his current predicament. I should'a taken that left turn at planet Alba'kirk'ee, he thought, angered at himself.

The Martian ships had been waiting for him, having anticipated his movements and caught him by surprise when he had exited subspace. His was a good ship, a reliable means of conveyance, but it was no match for the combined powers of a Martian splinter-fleet. They had surrounded him, dulled his shields and boarded. He had fought them off as best he could, but he was only one duck, a single solder against an army. He was brave, yes, but not invincible. Not unconquerable. Not immune to the consequences of his own stupidly foolish mistakes. He sighed, again, resigned to a lifetime of captivity.

The cell door slid open with the breathy hiss of advanced Martian engineering to reveal the imposingly tall form of Queen Tyr'ahnee. Dodgers blinked, having expected it to be Marvin, the lout, come to gloat at him for being so easily captured. The worst part of that scenario was that Dodgers could hardly have begrudged the Martian for his bravado; the Earthling would have done the same, had their positions been reversed. This, however, was unexpected. The queen's cold eyes played over him, widening a bit at the corners in the Martian equivalent of a smile. Her voice, so much like music, rings in his head, painfully loud at first before quieting down to a smooth and pleasant cadence.

{At last, Dodgers, I have you exactly where I want you.} Her ‘voice’, actually a telepathic transmission, is sharp and condescending. ‘Pitiful Earth-man,’ it implies.

Tyr'ahnee sauntered into the cell, her strange dress flowing like silken water along her wide hips and down her long, thin legs. Compared to her Martian kinsmen, the Queen is a beauty, her alien physique just familiar enough to be exotically erotic instead of uncannily disturbing. Her eyes widen into a grin as she examines the ruffled feathers on his wrists, testaments as to his powerlessness to escape his bonds, helpless and impotent.

She liked being in control. It suited her.

{Iron,} she thinks to him, {is the heart of Mars. From it we make steel, and from that we make our ships, our armor and our weaponry. Iron is symbolic of the strong becoming stronger, the mighty becoming mightier. Iron is Mars, and we evolve as it does, ever stronger, ever more powerful. We DESERVE this system, Dodgers. We always have. And one day, very soon, we will own it outright, undisputedly and forever.}

Dodgers arched a feathered eyebrow, his face disrespectfully placid.

"Not while there are people like me around, you won't,” he contests. “Not while Earth still stands in your way." The Martian Queen chuckled, her eyes bright and shining, mirthful; he amuses her. His entire planet was but a thorn in the side of Mars.

{Silly thing, you've already lost. Your capture has doomed your precious Earth. The Illudium Q-36 is prepared; the Explosive Space Modulators are primed and ready to fire, blowing your sphere to cosmic dust. Marvin will finally get his little wish: Venus will never again be obscured. The time of Earth has ended and Mars is ever rising.

Dodgers blinked, surprised at her statement.

"You said it would be one day SOON, not NOW! You just SAID that it would be - " Tyr'ahnee placed a slender finger on the tip of his beak, shushing him into angered silence. Her eyes dipped closed and then opened again and again in rapid blinking, a Martian chuckle. He growls – the destruction of Earth is NOT a topic of amusement!

{I know what I said, Dodgers. The Modulators are just a secondary precaution, a Plan B, as it were, just in case my first plan doesn't pan out how I want it to.} She removes her finger, allowing him to respond, although he’s almost to angry to think of what to say.

"What's Plan A?" he asked, growing even more irritable. Tyr'ahnee looked almost delighted, although he can’t for the life of him imagine why; crazy alien had gone kooky.

{Why, that's YOU, Dodgers. You're Plan A. I know you play the roll of a fool to throw us off, but no-one as skilled a warrior as you are can be so stupid as you pretend to be. You have in your head everything I could ever need to conquer the Earth without any unnecessary bloodshed, let alone the need to destroy it. And why would I want that? Unlike Marvin, I find Earth far more pleasing to look at than Venus. And what good is there in ruling over empty space?} Dodgers narrowed his eyes to glare at her.

"I'd never tell you a thing, Tyr'ahnee, and you KNOW that." She looks almost hurt, her wide eyes closing to twin slits in her face before opening wide again.

{I know,} she sighed. {You would never tell your greatest enemy your greatest secrets, you would never willingly betray your planet to me. But, I wonder...} She leaned in close, bowing over to look him in the eyes. {I wonder if you would tell your wife?}

Dodgers went rigid with shock, which pleased the Martian Queen. "What?" he asked. His voice cracked and the word came out with a childish squeak that infuriated him – he was a Captain, for Joe’s sake, not some rooky. This was a simple seduction maneuver; he’d learned about this in GRADE SCHOOL, for crying out loud!

{Enough of your games, Dodgers,} she mentally whispers, her telepathic tone slithering across his mind like a playful tongue. {I can offer everything you've ever wanted. You would have power and respect. Earth, once we’ve conquered it, would be yours. Mars, once we're wed. Me.} The last word is soft, a whispered promise.

"You?" he mumbles, his body going numb at the thought of it.

{Yes,} she says, {me.} Her arms encircled him before they pulled him off the wall and into an embrace. Her body was warm and pliant, smooth and soft. She smelled of sand, of incense, of the red deserts of planet Mars. Her head moved in and she rubbed her cheek against his - lacking a mouth, Martians had never developed kissing, preferring instead to touch their faces in a fashion strangely similar to archaic Eskimo-kissing.

He decided to teach her.

She gasped at the unexpected contact of his beak on her face, below the nearly-invisible orifices of her nose. Her knees went weak at the feeling of his tongue on her skin and she moaned, pressing herself lithe, curvy tighter against his body.

{Moons of Mars,} she whispered into his mind, {I've waited so LONG for this...}

"Me, too," he mumbles, his words made blurry by their closeness.

Dodgers spent the next few minutes feeding sweet thoughts into her brain as he kissed her. She has never in her life felt such a thing – what a wondrous organ the tongue could be! And to think that her people demonized the mouth as wicked, an Earthling perversion of the pure beauty of Martian form. How their propaganda depicted the mouths of Earth, gaping open to swallow their red-sanded home! How wrong they’d been, how right this felt! She knew then and there that he WOULD be hers and, more than that, she knew that SHE would be HIS, and the thought made her the happiest she had ever been; she would stop at nothing to see that happen, to live in bliss with this Earthling for the rest of her life; the Empire could hang for all she cared right then.

So enamored with Dodgers and his mouth was the Martian Queen that the slight clicking sound brought forth no objection, if she noticed it at all. So pleased was she to feel his arms circle her dainty waist that their freedom of motion went unopposed. And so in love with the Earthling was she that, when the manacles snapped closed around her own thin and shapely wrists that she could not comprehend what was happening.

Her eyes opened slowly and gazed into his.

{W-what? What’s going on?}

Dodgers slipped away from her and smiles before holding up the twisted bobby-pin that he kept tucked away in the feathers of his right wrist for just these sort of occasions. The other captains called him paranoid, but he’d always preferred ‘prepared’.

“All that talk about evolving, of moving forward… and you decided to go with old-fashioned key locks? I’m disappointed, Tyr’ahnee. I guess you didn’t really want me to stay after all.” She shook her head and thought a jumbled protest. He ignored her and continued. “In that case, I think I’ll pay a little visit to your War Room, you know, to disable your Modulators before I head back home. This was fun, though. For a gal with no mouth you sure are nice to kiss.” She struggled, in futility, against the manacles.

He left, then, through the cell door, and she leaned back against the stone wall of the room, her eyes closed, breathing heavily. She opened her eyes again in the widest grin of her life and laughed, loudly, like a winner of the Pan-Galactic Lottery. That kiss hadn’t been fake, she told herself. Nobody, not even an actor as superb as Dodgers, could fake what he’d made her feel. He DID love her, the kiss had proved it beyond a doubt and, one day, they would be together. She would not rest, could not rest, until it were so.

The cold void of space enveloped him as Dodgers’ ship broke free from the Martian containment field. Disabling their blast doors had been a snap, as always, and the freedom of the cosmos was an apt reward for a job well done. He switched on the auto-pilot, set for home, and leaned back in his seat. His mind drifted, of course, to Tyr’ahnee.

That kiss, he thought to himself, just might have been more than a distraction. He closed his eyes and smiled. Maybe, he thinks, if she ever gives up on the whole galactic conquest thing, he might get a chance to do it again. The engines hummed peacefully as his ship automatically opened a subspace wormhole back to Earth-space, beyond the reach of the Martian Empire and its beautiful Queen and, for the briefest of moments, he feels a little homesick. Someday, he promised himself…

…Someday.

No.5372
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

No.5373
>>5372
Something wrong?

No.5374
>>5373
It's too good. I can't stand it.

No.5375
>>5374
Hey, thanks! I'll go through it some more tomorrow and get rid of the rest of the 'present-tense' mistakes and post it again.

No.5376
Okay, I've finished editing and I've added a few things.

Hail to the Queen

The iron manacles chafed at his wrists as Duck Dodgers, hero of the 24th and a half century, struggled against them. He pushed himself as far away from the smooth stone wall as he could, straining against his bonds, before relaxing and leaning back against it with a sigh. It was no use; he was good and trapped this time, a captive of Queen Tyr'ahnee, the undisputed matriarch of the entire Martian Empire. Dodgers closed his eyes and brooded over the mistakes that had resulted in his current predicament. I should'a taken that left turn at planet Alba'kirk'ee, he thought, angered at himself.

The Martian ships had been waiting for him, having anticipated his movements and caught him by surprise when he had exited subspace. His was a good ship, a reliable means of conveyance, but it was no match for the combined powers of a Martian splinter-fleet. They had surrounded him, dulled his shields and boarded without any resistance worth mentioning. He had fought them off as best he could, but he was only one duck, a single solder against an army of better ships and infinitely more bloodthirsty opponents. He was brave, yes, some might even call him foolhardy, but not invincible. Not unconquerable. Not immune to the consequences of his own stupidly foolish mistakes. He sighed, again, resigned to a lifetime of captivity. Already bored, he wondered if they might just kill him and get it over with, spar him the long, dreary years of being paraded around as a prisoner of war. His characteristic impatience already gnawed at him.

The cell door slid open with the breathy hiss of advanced Martian engineering to reveal the imposingly tall form of Queen Tyr'ahnee. Dodgers blinked, having expected it to be Marvin, the lout, come to gloat at him for being so easily captured. The worst part of that scenario was that Dodgers could hardly have begrudged the Martian for his bravado; the Earthling would have done the same, had their positions been reversed. This, however, was unexpected. The Queen's cold eyes played over him, widening a bit at the corners in the Martian equivalent of a smile. Her voice, so much like music, rang in his head, painfully loud at first before it quieted down to a smooth and pleasant cadence.

{At last, Dodgers, I have you exactly where I want you.} Her ‘voice’, actually a telepathic transmission, was sharp and condescending. ‘Pitiful Earth-man,’ it implied.

Tyr'ahnee sauntered into the cell, her strangely revealing dress flowing like silken water along her wide hips and down her long, thin legs. Compared to the brutish appearance of her Martian kinsmen the Queen was an unparalleled beauty, her alien physique just familiar enough to the Captain to be exotically intriguing instead of uncannily disturbing. Her eyes widened into a grin as she examined the ruffled feathers on his wrists, testaments of his powerlessness to escape his bonds, helpless and impotent.

She liked being in control. It suited her exquisitely.

{Iron,} she thought to him, {is the heart of Mars. From it we make steel, and from that we make our ships, our armor and our weaponry. Iron is symbolic of the strong becoming stronger, the mighty becoming mightier. Iron is Mars, and we evolve as it does, ever stronger, ever more powerful. We DESERVE this system, Dodgers. We always have. And one day, very soon, we will own it outright, undisputedly and forever.}

Dodgers arched a feathered eyebrow, his face disrespectfully placid.

"Not while there are people like me around, you won't,” he contests. “Not while Earth still stands in your way." The Martian Queen chuckled, her eyes wide, bright and shining; mirthful: he amuses her. His entire planet was but a thorn in the side of Mars.

{Silly thing, you've already lost. Your capture has doomed your precious Earth. The Illudium Q-36 is prepared; the Explosive Space Modulators are primed and ready to fire, blowing your little sphere to cosmic dust. Marvin will finally get his silly wish: Venus will never again be obscured. The time of Earth has ended and Mars is rising.}

Dodgers blinked, surprised at her statement.

"You said it would be one day SOON, not NOW! You just SAID that it would be soo- " Tyr'ahnee placed a slender finger on the tip of his beak, shushing him into angered silence. Her eyes dipped closed and then opened again and again in rapid blinking, a Martian chuckle. He growls – the destruction of Earth was NOT a topic of amusement!

{I know what I said, Dodgers. The Modulators are just a secondary precaution, a Plan B, as it were, just in case my first plan doesn't pan out how I want it to.} She removes her finger, allowing him to respond, although he’s almost to angry to think of what to say. She allows him time to think, to formulate a response. It is uncharacteristic.

"What's Plan A?" he asked, growing even more irritable. Tyr'ahnee looked almost delighted, although he can’t for the life of him imagine why; crazy alien had gone kooky.

{Why, that's YOU, Dodgers. You're Plan A. I know you play the roll of a fool to throw us off, but no-one as skilled a warrior as you are can be so stupid as you pretend to be. You have in your head everything I could ever need to conquer the Earth without any unnecessary bloodshed, let alone the need to destroy it. And why would I want that? Unlike Marvin, I find Earth far more pleasing to look at than Venus. And what good is there in ruling over empty space?} Dodgers narrowed his eyes to glare daggers at her.

"I'd never tell you a thing, Tyr'ahnee, and you KNOW that." She looked almost hurt, disappointed, her wide eyes closing to twin slits in her face before opening up again.

{I know,} she sighed. {You would never tell your greatest enemy your greatest secrets, you would never willingly betray your planet to me. But, I wonder...} She leaned in close, bowing over to look him in the eyes. {I wonder if you would tell your wife?}

Dodgers went rigid with shock, which pleased the Martian Queen. "What?" he asked. His voice cracked and the word came out with a childish quack that infuriated him – he was a Captain, for Joe’s sake, not some rooky. This was a simple seduction maneuver; he’d learned about this in bugsing GRADE SCHOOL, for crying out loud!

He knew this situation like the back of his hand – he just needed time to think.

{Enough of your games, Dodgers,} she mentally whispered, her telepathic tone slithering across his mind like a playful tongue. {I can offer you everything you've ever wanted. You would have the power and respect you deserve. Earth, once we’ve conquered it, would be yours. Mars, once we're wed and crown you King. And you would have me.} The last word is soft, a whispered promise of great and beautiful things.

"You?" he mumbles, his body going numb at the thought of it.

{Yes,} she says, {me.} Her arms first encircled him before they pulled him off the wall and into a close embrace. Her body was warm and pliant, smooth and soft. She smelled of sand, of incense, of the red deserts of planet Mars. Her head moved in and she rubbed her cheek against his - lacking a mouth, Martians had never developed kissing, preferring instead to t their faces in a fashion strangely similar to that of the Eskimos.

It was then that he decided to teach her.

She gasped at the unexpected contact of his beak on her face, below the nearly-invisible orifices of her nose. Her knees went weak at the feeling of his tongue on her velvety skin and she moaned, pressing herself lithe, curvy form tighter against his body.

{Moons of Mars,} she whispered into his mind, {I've waited so LONG for this...}

"Me, too," he mumbled, his words made blurry by their closeness.

Dodgers spent the next few minutes feeding sweet thoughts into her brain as he kissed her. She had never in her life felt such a thing – what a wondrous organ the tongue could be! And to think that her people demonized the mouth as wicked, as an Earthling perversion of the pure beauty of the Martian form. How their propaganda depicted the many mouths of Earth, gaping open to swallow their red-sanded home! How wrong they’d been, how right this felt! She knew then and there that he WOULD be hers and, more than that, she knew that SHE would be HIS, and the thought made her the happiest she had ever been; she would stop at nothing to see that happen, to live in bliss with this Earthling for the rest of her life; the Empire could hang itself for all she cared right then.

So enamored with Dodgers and his mouth was the Martian Queen that the slight clicking sounds brought forth no objection, if she noticed at all. So pleased was she to feel his arms circle around her dainty waist that their freedom of motion went unopposed. And so in love with the Earthling was she that, when the manacles snapped shut around her own thin and shapely wrists that she could not comprehend what was happening.

Her eyes opened slowly and gazed into his.

{W-what? What’s going on?}

Dodgers slipped away from her and smiled before holding up the twisted bobby-pin that he kept tucked away in the feathers of his right wrist for just these sort of occasions. The other captains called him paranoid, but he’d always preferred ‘prepared’.

“All that talk about evolving, of moving forward… and you decided to go with old-fashioned key locks? I’m disappointed, Tyr’ahnee. I guess you didn’t really want me to stay after all.” She shook her head and thought a jumbled protest. He ignored her and continued. “In that case, I think I’ll pay a little visit to your War Room, you know, to disable your Modulators before I head back home. This was fun, though. For a gal with no mouth you sure are nice to kiss.” She struggled, in futility, against the manacles.

He left, then, through the cell door, and she leaned back against the stone wall of the room, her eyes closed, breathing heavily. She opened her eyes again in the widest grin of her life and laughed, loudly, like a winner of the Pan-Galactic Lottery. That kiss hadn’t been fake, she told herself. Nobody, not even an actor as superb as Dodgers, could fake what he’d made her feel. He DID love her, the kiss had proved it beyond a doubt and, one day, they would be together. She would not rest, could not rest, until it were so.

The empty void of space enveloped him as Dodgers’ ship broke free from the Martian containment field. Disabling their blast doors had been a snap, as always, and the freedom of the cosmos was an apt reward for a job well done. He switched on the auto-pilot, set for home, and leaned back in his seat. His mind drifted, of course, to Tyr’ahnee.

That kiss, he thought to himself, just might have been more than a distraction, more than a simple escape tactic. He closed his eyes and smiled. Maybe, he thought, if she ever gave up on the whole galactic conquest thing, he might get a chance to do it again. The engines hummed peacefully as his ship opened up a subspace wormhole back to Earth-space, beyond the reach of the Martian Empire and its beautiful Queen and, for the briefest of moments, he felt a little homesick. Someday, he promised himself…

…Someday.

No.5381
>>5375
How did those happen, anyway?

No.5384
>>5381
YO HO HO THEY TAKE A BITE OF GUM GUM

No.5386
>>5381
It was originally present-tense, but I went through again and changed it to past-tense since I prefer it that way.

I just missed a few the first time through.



Main FAQ [ baw] [ co / cog / jam / mtv / tek ] [ ck / coc / draw / writ ] [ pco / coq ] [ a / op / pkmn ] [ n ]
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