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That Which Survives

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That Which Survives



The college student walked down the road, in the student housing district of Stormlands University on the outskirts of King’s Landing. Snow blew into her face as it picked up force. Finally, in January, winter had arrived. She walked with her head down, and adjusted her blue L.L. Bean turbo transit backpack on her back. The weight was heavy, and bit into her shoulder. She kept to the sidewalk in front of houses that were rented out to students, and the classic quad apartments.

The woman pulled her black North Face jacket tighter to her body, her black beanie pulled half way down the sides of her head. Her bangs plastered to her forehead, her short hair leaving her ears uncovered, along with the mussed hair of her nape in the back.

A line of cars were parallel parked on the road beside the sidewalk the woman walked down in the early evening. The street lights made the large, blowing snowflakes appear like dancing faeries as they blew through the cones of light from the streetlight bulbs. She approached a bland Tywin Ford 350 paneled Van. The woman smiled, seeing the boring beige color. Why was it that all the organizations used the same fucking model, and worse, the same boring colors? Was originality simply not allowed? Gods, knew she had sat in this van’s twins too many times.

She reached the van, adjusting her straps and juked to the left, her left hand reaching out and gently placing a strip of duck-tape on the van. The woman quickly scooted between bumpers, and placed a second piece on the van. The surveillance cameras for the van’s six o’clock were now blinded. Her left hand went back into the pocket of her jacket, wrapping around the Glock-19 with its Solberg SLCRT100 silencer attached. She waited. She looked around at all the quadrants of the clock. She saw nothing amiss.

The hunter had become the hunted. They were focused on their mission, and not their ‘six’.

The woman pulled a device out of her right jacket pocket, and placed it near the rear lock. The device scanned the infrared codes of Ford vehicles. After thirteen seconds, her device’s LED that had been flashing red turned steady green. She had to trust her instincts. She shed her backpack, and placed it on the ground pressed partially underneath the rear fender. She squatted down slowly. She put her gun on the ground, which she followed after. The woman lay out flat and scooted underneath the van, bringing her gun with her.

She stared up at the heat shield. The woman opened her fanny pack and pulled out a zirconium cast syringe, and slowly squeezed out acid onto the heat shield staring her in the face. She completed the circle. The cut metal fell onto her chest. She put the syringe back away, then gripped the metal, making sure not to touch the acid-cut edges as she put the metal quietly on the road beside her. She pulled out her digitally enhanced Net Bionic Ear Hearing Device. She attached it to the underside of the floor of the van, and put the earbuds in her ears.

After five minutes, the woman decided that she had heard enough. There were three voices conversing about the routine, boring mission they were on. They mentioned the upcoming ‘show’. Yes. That was confirmation her mark was in the house, or at least moving towards it. The van had the standard surveillance team inside, to support operatives in the field for low risk missions. They had mission control, with a support vehicle near the kill site for direct support if necessary, as per protocol.

Her informant had told her who the hit was against. The Oligarchy would have considered the standard support team sufficient to make this hit. The mark was a soft target. Which is why so much about the situation was strange.

She again wondered why a hit on a prostitute warranted all this firepower, and bringing in Ramsay Snow. Why didn’t they put out a local contract for such a soft target? What was so important as to call for a fully supported black ops mission? Arya was thankful that the target was not considered hardened. That would have meant even more support.

She had chased Ramsey Snow for five years, and tonight she would put him down. She had passed on two chances before, when too much support had been provided when her informants came through. It had twisted her guts up, letting him slip through her fingers. It would do her deceased lover no good getting killed before she could snuff the bastard. She would relish killing the suave and debonair assassin. All else was collateral.

She took a deep breath. It was time to make this Ford live up to its name: Found On Road Dead.

She got up from underneath the van, and looked around. No one was out in the inclement weather. The snow began falling heavier. She pulled out a surgical mask and put it over her face, hooking it behind her ears. She pulled down her ‘beanie’ and covered her face with the ski mask that it truly was. She looked down her body. Shirt sleeves inside her Louis Garneau Smart Touch Gloves. Black pants tucked inside her combat boots. She was dark and hard to see in the gloom. She did not want to leave any prints or DNA evidence behind.

The woman gripped her 9mm and pulled it out. With her right hand, she held her scrambler and gripped the door lever. She pressed the button and ripped the door open.

Arya Stark was shocked to see five men in the van, rather than three. Two men sat at consoles with headphones on, and three obvious supervisors stood over their shoulders. Arya’s training and muscle memory took over. She aimed, and fired. Her first bullets hit the two operators, knocking them back, the man on the right tipping his chair as his body hit the van floor. The other men were already reacting. The man closest to her started to charge, but two quick double taps pumped hollow point bullets into his upper chest, shredding his heart and lungs. He stumbled to the van floor, hard.

Her silencer spit silent death.

The man to her left was pulling out his gun, and she shot him in the upper chest and throat, his body spinning back, blood gushing from his throat in hot sprays.

The last standing man dove to the left and kneeled behind the slumped operator, and fired at Arya. Her body jerked back as a bullet hit her chest, over her left breast. The pain was intense. She fired at the man repeatedly as she squatted down to the left. Her bullets riddled the console operator. The man hunched down behind the fallen operative.

Arya paused, and the man jerked up to fire once more. Her next shots hit his throat and mouth. Blood sprayed out his mouth, and a splatter of blood exploded out the back of his head. His body jerked back, and slammed into the wall between the body of the van and its cockpit.

Arya looked behind her, at the shattered windshield of the car behind the van. There was nothing to do for that. Thank the gods it was an older car, and did not have an alarm system installed. She knelt and picked her backpack up, and threw it in the van. She made sure her backpack didn’t hit the pooling blood. She followed it in, then pulled the door shut behind her.

Arya felt her chest over her heart. It was already bruising. The Kevlar vest had done its job though, stopping the penetration of the bullet even though the kinetic energy was still a hard mule’s kick. She idly wondered if she had any tits, would her chest be hurting so bad right now?

She righted the fallen chair, and sat at the console. She pulled up her ski mask. She put her gun down to her left. Again, all clandestine organizations seemed to be set up the same. She could easily read the bastard Valyrian that was the Ghiscari language. Arya took the stylus and touched the screen, advancing between the screens.

She heard a groan, and looked to her left. The operator that had sat in her chair was levering himself up. Arya picked her gun up and shot the man in the back of the head. He collapsed dead.

Arya went back to the screen, quickly moving through the surveillance screens. She memorized the locations of the cameras, Wifi WAN antennas, and the local voice channel antenna. She looked at the street the prostitute lived on. She spotted the dull colored sedan with the backup team. Arya then located the dossier on the prostitute. She now had a name. She was beautiful, really. Her complexion was light and sun, where her wife had been as dark as the night between the stars.

She then took a few minutes to peruse various screens, absorbing information on the Oligarch crime family. She had an inside track, and greedily drank in the information. She didn’t take long. Time was fleeting. She could have learned much more, but time was of the essence. She had no death wish - she wanted to make her kill, and leave. If Arya could save the woman, that would just be a bonus in her book. No reason to let an innocent die if it did not jeopardize her mission of killing Ramsey Bolton.  

There were three Panasonic Toughbooks CF-19 sitting on the consoles. She removed their hard drives, and looked around. She saw a brief case. She shot the lock and the top sprung open. There was nothing like the direct approach.

She got up and went to her backpack. She opened a pocket, and pulled out a ziploc bag. She went to the dead men and removed their wallets. They would have intelligence and money to exploit. Also, it would make it harder for the sure-to-be descending intelligence agencies to ID the men quickly. Two had expensive watches and rings, which she also purloined. They would bring a pretty sum in a pawn shop. She cleaned out all their pockets.

The keys she threw on the floor, and put the other items in her ziploc for later intel. She went to the brief case and stuffed the papers, folders and two small packets into her backpack. She put the ziploc in her backpack, and put it on her back. Arya pulled out two plastic bags and rubber bands, and put them on her boots. Last she pulled a clip out of her pants pocket, and exchanged clips in her gun. The old clip only had 2 bullets left in it. She pulled ski mask back down.

She got up and left the van, locking it behind her. She did not want someone casually opening the doors. She swiped her feet to remove any tracks in the snow. She quickly went down the sidewalk, and crossed the street. She removed the bags and bands there, and put them in her pants pocket.

Arya slowly walked down the streets, subtly turning to look all around. No one was following her. She was as sure as you could be in this world of black ops. She continued onward, staying out of the camera views. She kept her head down. She crossed over three streets. Then she was in a camera dead zone. She looked up at the snow flacks twisting and turning in the wind, watching the little motes of purity that fell down into this sad, tired world of muted greys and harsh reality. She moved to duck behind a large bush in a front yard. She put her backpack down, and unzipped the largest pocket.

She pulled out her chopped AR-15 with folding stock, and locked the butt in place. She loaded the clip with a blue tape around it, designating the clip contained subsonic bullets. She put on her silencer. She aimed at the WiFi antenna that had been installed on a light pole. She sighted down her 8x Bushnell scope, calmed her breathing, and pulled the trigger. The WiFi antenna exploded.

She folded her gun and put it back. She loved GPS. The Ghiscari camera and data network was down now, but she knew where all her targets were. She moved over to another street, and saw the car that held the backup agents. All had been revealed on the consoles she had just watched. By protocol, the more experienced officer would be in the passenger seat. She moved closer from the rear, and put her backpack down. She pulled out her ziploc bags and again tied them around her boots. She partially hid her backpack in the hanging limbs of a fir. Arya was well-practiced in how to take small steps with her feet in their bags, so as not to leave any boot marks to be possibly used later as evidence against her.

The men in the car had no idea what was about to happen. She moved up the road, slipping between cars and bushes. She saw a car coming down the road. The lights would attract their eyes. She chose that moment to move forward in her black attire. The car came down the lane, and she arrived at the back bumper of her target in a crouch.

Arya got up and walked between the cars, and arrived at the side window of the agent’s car. She turned and pivoted. They still did not know she was there. She fired her first shot to shatter the window. The hollow point bullet exploded on contact with the glass. Arya then double tapped both of the men as they were still registering they were being assaulted. Bullets ripped into faces and temples, pulping their brains with hydrostatic shock. Arya looked in the shot-out window. Both were dead. There was enough blood splatter to keep even Dexter happy for an episode.

Arya hurried back, and gathered up her backpack.

Arya moved on down the street to the quad apartment building. The prostitute was in apartment 101. She walked slowly up the walk, looking all around. All seemed safe. She went to the door quickly and knelt. She put her silenced 9mm on the ground by her knee. She reached to grip the door knob to test the lock, and was surprised when the door opened.

Arya paused. Could Ramsey be that comfortable? The operative considered. Yes, he had a seven man support team behind him, and an unknown prostitute as his target. He would think himself safe to take out his target, after having his sadistic fun.

Arya gripped her gun tightly and entered the apartment, bent into a low squat. She looked around. Nothing seemed amiss with two lamps turned on, atop tables beside the main sofa. She noticed the furniture was nice. The pieces were pricy, but not quite the most expensive lines. She checked around, and cleared that area of the apartment. She knew from the blueprints she had pulled up in the van that the prostitute’s bedroom would be down the hall, the last door on the right. Arya placed her backpack down silently by the door.

From that hall, she heard the sounds of voices conversing. The cadence of their speak told Arya that it was all just talk so far. It was not the sounds of torture or rape. Not yet. So the prostitute was still alive and well. She had come in at the beginning of the scene, and not the last curtain call. She debated waiting until Ramsey was having his fun raping the girl. She would not let it go far, but Ramsey would be at his greatest disadvantage with his pants down.

But no. She couldn’t. Her guts squirmed with the thoughts of letting the rape happen unchecked, and her need to kill him was too great.

She moved deeper into the apartment. The sofa, chaise, and two chairs were black leather. The tables were a dark oak and very modern. She assumed the furniture was from the local Ikea store.

She looked off to the right into the kitchen, spotting an all black Samsung refrigerator, and combined stove, oven, and microwave. Then, suddenly, the voices in the hall escalated.

“Where the fuck is it bitch?!” Ramsey yelled, and the sound of cupped palm striking a face was loud in the silence of the apartment. Arya heard a body falling hard into furniture.

She moved down the hall as silent as the grave as she kept her Glock in front of her chest, held in close and ready to be used at a moment’s notice.

“I-I-I-I don’t knowwwww … I keep telling you that!” Another loud slap and the woman began to weep.

“Listen you dumb cunt—I know he left it here … he had to. If you give it to me, I might just let you live.” Ramsey told the prostitute.

Arya knew the sadistic man would never let the whore go. All his marks died a horrible death after a violent rape. The gender made no difference to the sadistic bastard - he enjoyed giving pain, and relished torturing and mutilating his victims.

She had seen it first hand with her sweet Nyomi. Her face and her beautiful breasts had been removed and thrown on the floor like offal. Then her vagina had been mutilated. With men, he castrated them – testicles, cock and all.

She moved silently down the hall to the half open door. She stood just beyond the door, still fully hidden and not yet able to look in the room.

Ramsey was barking at the woman demanding that she surrender ‘it’, while she sobbed back that she had no idea what he was talking back.

“What is it?!” the prostitute cried out. “Was it his wallet, his Iphone, piece of jewelry—what?!”

“You know, I almost believe you, bitch. After I rape you, I will give you a needle full of truth serum and then you will sing like a canary. Hopefully, you will have the information I want. If not, no matter. You are a beautiful woman indeed, whore. I will enjoy carving your face away and cutting off those delectable, full breasts you have.”

The prostitute screamed, and Arya heard her trying to flee, but it was followed by another loud slap and the sound of the woman falling onto the bed.

“I hate you stuck-up beautiful cunts! Think you are better than anyone else! I will enjoy raping your ass.” She heard the sound of something being placed on a wooden top.

“I record all my kills you know … the videos are my trophies.”

The woman sobbed brokenly on the bed moaning “No, no, no.”

Again, Ayra contemplated letting Ramsey get his proverbial drawers around his ankles and not make her move till he was deep in his fuck. He really would be an easier mark then.

She banished the thought immediately. A buried part of her extinguished honor could not allow that. This woman may not be an innocent, but she had no part of this tableau of cruelty and death.

Arya stepped into the bedroom doorway with gun raised.

Ramsey had his back to her as he looked down at woman. She was definitely of old Valyria, that land of myth, legends and dragons. One of the forbidden zones where none were allowed except by special government permit. It was a land that harkened back to a time when dragons flew the sky - back when the world was young, or so the legends said. Those things never happened of course, but still, the woman was definitely beautiful.

She was short, maybe five feet tall. She had on only a lacey bra and panties that were a light shade of green which complemented her pale features. She had likely come back from an escort date. Her white blond hair was disheveled, and her cheeks bright pink from her abuse. Her head was turned away, but Arya already knew that her eyes would be the deepest lilac from her bio. Arya also knew she had full b cup breasts.

The woman sobbed and pleaded. “Please let me go. I never hurt you, never wronged you.” She was crawling up the bed, trying to get away from Ramsey. That was useless, Arya knew. Then Arya started. The pillows had been put in disarray, and underneath one them was the handle of a butcher knife.

Hmmm. Arya contemplated. The sheep had a claw, but still, it would be no good against the trained and sadistic killer.

“Ramsey.” Arya softly called.

The man exploded to the left and spun, his hand going for his waist band.

Arya had been ready, but was still surprised by the man’s speed. Her first shot missed, but her next two hit Ramsey in the hip and ribs, knocking him off balance as he landed hard on a knee.

He surged back up with his gun in hand. He started to turn towards the door. Arya had crouched down to one knee. Ramsey aimed for where Arya’s heart had been seconds ago. He noted her change in position, but it was too late.

Three bullets slammed into his own heart, shredding it. Ramsey’s body shuddered hard, and his hands started to drop as shock shut his system down.

Arya rose back up. “This is for Nyomi,” she spoke calmly, her next shot hitting the hit man between the eyes. The bullet exploded deep in his head, and blood gushed out of his eye sockets and flooded from his mouth. His body collapsed as if his life strings had been cut.

Arya stood looking down at her hated enemy. She felt no elation. She felt only a sense of closure, and a great weariness washed over her.

The prostitute slowly righted herself on the bed. Arya’s training and curiosity kicked in. She turned to look at the prostitute, gun half raised. Arya was ready for any eventuality. The woman had a weapon she was ready to use - though she had still not gripped the handle of her butcher knife.

“What the hell is so damn important that they sent a full blown hit team in to take you out?” Arya barked at the woman.

She had searched the database in the van, but her limited time did not reveal what the item had been.

The woman regarded her coolly. Her cheeks were fire red, and her left eye would swell some in a day Arya saw.

“Are you here to kill me too?”

What? Fuck no. I was only here to kill Ramsey Bolton. I just want to know what got eight men killed. What is so fucking important that the Oligarch hired the best hit man on the market? What to do you have, that is worth that kind of mojo?”

“Are you going to save me?”

“Oh hell no! This is your problem, prostitute. Whatever it is that you have has got a world of shit coming down on you. I wouldn’t want to be you when the shit hits the fan.” Arya told her in an offhand manner. She really just wanted her curiosity satisfied.

She saw the prostitute’s violet eyes flare. The woman got up from the bed with a grace that belied the fact of her recent abuse. She marched up to Arya. Bemused, she watched the woman pull her hand back and slap Arya hard across the cheek.

It stung like hell, but Arya did not react. “I will let you have that one, whore. Don’t strike me again.”

The woman was a good three inches shorter than her. She looked up at Arya with burning violet eyes. Her bra and panties hid just enough to make her body even more enticing - if Arya had been interested.

The woman was beautiful, but it meant nothing to her. Arya just looked back calmly.

The woman literally shook with anger . “My name is DAENERYS TARGARYEN!”

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Altered Paths

The snow began falling heavier from the darkened sky, the wind blowing flakes across the forlorn sky at an angle. Daenerys saw this each time her car drove underneath a light post, and the light shone down on the magic show that nature had created. Daenerys had always been fascinated by snowfalls.

She had been enraptured since her orphanage took the children to see Fantasia in a theater when she was seven years old. She had been spellbound by the music and the images she saw on that magic screen that day. She had been drawn in from the first notes of Bach’s fugue, her soul had been alight with fire and possibilities. The music was magical, and the images entrancing. The scenes had prepared her for her revelation; for the epiphany of her life.

Her soul had been ripped open and then laid bare when the Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Nutcracker Suite came on the screen. From the first notes, she fell into the music. Each note struck a chord deep in her soul. Her whole being resonated with the notes and chord progressions. When the score reached the Waltz of the Fairies, she felt a resonance in her lonely heart. Her body had begun to shake with an augury of her fate. As the fairies went by each leaf and set it adrift, Daenerys felt her soul on those leaves. Especially when the sky was filled with leaves that danced in concert, with a longing to connect – yet being unable to do so.  

Daenerys felt her own self in those leaves, swirling and striving to connect. Her lip had begun to tremble as her body shook. The key shifted to minor, and the leaves were blown along the wind, heedless of their desire and wants. They tumbled and swirled in the gusts as they waltz played on, lost in the sky, devoid of a home. Like them, she would always be cast adrift to be blown across the world with no place to call home.

That was when Daenerys first understood her destiny: to always be alone. To always be adrift without family or a person to hold and love her. She had fallen to the theatre floor, sobbing brokenly. Her teacher was confused by her visceral reaction that she could not explain.

Daenerys shook her head, her thoughts coming back to the present. She was thankful again for her clever recent purchase of her lightly used Subaru Outlander, with its all wheel posi-traction drive. It was still like new, and she was not about to pay deprecation for just driving it off the lot. Daenerys was practical in all her decisions.

She went to her radio dash and tapped in the Nutcracker Suite, and hummed along to the melodies. She couldn’t help but feel a little smug in her vehicle selection as she watched others slide on the road, barely in control of their cars.

She decided when she got home she would put the three great Tchaikovsky ballets on queue in her IPod, to play Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake and the Nutcracker back to back. She hummed her most loved melodies from those masterpieces as she drove on.

She had received a call from Khal Drogo early that morning, begging her to set up an appointment. She had initially refused, since to meet with him would have taken her out of her classes for the day. He had been called home unexpectedly to deal with a crisis at his company. Drogo said he needed to see her one more time before he stepped on his private jet and headed back to his home in Vaes Dothrak. What he really meant was that he wanted to fuck her one more time. She had refused him again till he had tripled her normal fee. She was a straight A student and could afford to miss a class. She would have to give a cut of the normal fee to her madam, but the extra was pure profit. She was first and foremost a business girl.

She had, by circumstance, fallen into the high end escort – call girl business, but she was so glad that she had. A poor, penniless girl from Dragonstone was not getting a liberal arts education at a high priced private school without expensive loans. She had been a poor student during primary education, and had not found focus until she graduated high school and realized that all night partying and fucking had left her with decidedly few options to secure the life of security she desperately craved.

She had felt hopelessness settling in. She had come to the mainland with her boyfriend at the time, to King’s Landing. They had soon parted ways, as she always did with her boyfriends. Men as a rule soon bored her with their inane conversations, narcissism and inability to truly listen to a woman. She had quickly tired of her beau and moved onto the next.

When she had seen a discreet ad from Chataya and Alayaya escort services, she knew she had found her lifeline. She had gone in for an interview, and was hired on the spot. The madams told her that a woman of the pure blood of old Valyria could charge almost any price. Finally, Daenerys would be paid to fuck, and paid well.

She had fended off the advances of the mother and daughter madams afterward. It still blew her mind that they were lovers, and lived as wife and wife. She preferred cock to couchie. What women saw in another woman, she may never understand.

She had quickly amassed enough money to enroll at the pricy, private Stormlands University. She had paid in all-cash installments for her first year. Now she was a sophomore, and had been able to move out of the dorms and pay the high rent for her apartment, as well as afford her car. She had a walk-in closet full of the most expensive clothes and shoes. She had exquisite jewelry, which she both bought and had given to her by smitten clients. A girl had to look good.

She smirked, thinking of how so many of them begged her to marry them after they dumped their wives. Yeah, right. She had already proven they were adulterers. In time, they would tire of her as she would of them, and they would part. She knew she was beautiful, but all beauty was fleeting. She would never be a trophy wife to be caste aside for a newer, younger trophy.

This line of thought brought her back to Drogo. He had fucked her good, like he always did. He had cum three times in her pussy and in her asshole the last two times. Drogo could actually bone, and had given Daenerys seven orgasms herself. So why was she untouched by the sex they had? His skills had touched her body, but not her soul.

Sex with men, for some reason she could not put her finger on, left her essence untouched. She had learned early on how to use her body to control men, but it had been pointless to her. Men bored her. Drogo was great till the sex was over, and he started to bloviate about his business dealings that did not interest her in the least, and she had to act like they did. He would then whine about his wives who did not understand him. She was sure his wives were having the same conversations with their own prostitutes or gigolos.

She was nasty in bed, and she liked it. She enjoyed fully the pleasures her body could give her. She was paid extra for being willing to do ATM, ATP and hard BDSM. She loved to have her hair pulled. The sting of controlled slaps to her face, ass and tits made her so wet and close to orgasm. She craved sex that touched her. She had early on discovered her love for kinky sex. The one thing men brought to the bed was the power of their body. A power she felt in herself, but easily submitted to the men when they fucked her.

Daenerys arrived at her apartment complex, and parked in her reserved spot. She pulled her beige Burberry Double Cotton Twill Trench Coat tight against the inclement weather, and hurried into her apartment. She shook off the snow on the landing before unlocking her door. She went in, and hung the jacket in the small cedar closet by the door. She loved the smell of cedar. She made sure she had her jacket properly hung, so it wouldn’t wrinkle or crease. She had to look exquisite at all times when on the job.

She was hungry, but decided to undress first. She went into her large bedroom with its king sized bed, and old fashioned canopy. It made her feel like a faery princess. The only problem was the men she brought to her bed were all frogs who never actually turned into her prince. She treasured the few that could actually bone, though she kicked them out once they could no longer perform for her. She couldn’t stand their bleating and arrogance.

She had stripped down to her panties and bra, putting her clothes carefully on the bed.

That was when her world turned upside down.

“Well, well the whore returns.” She heard a cold, dead male voice behind her. She froze. She had seen enough TV shows and movies to know she was in deep shit.

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Turn around, prostitute.”

She did slowly, and looked into the dead eyes of a man who should been her wet dream. He was tall, and ruggedly good looking. His angular cast face, and his dark hair and eyebrows made him look debonair. He had on an immaculate grey Ralph Lauren three piece suit, with a sharp black tie. He looked like a villain out of a James Bond movie, or a male model for a British sports car, or maybe an urbane self-assured hard liquor shrill.

But it was his eyes that captured her. They were the eyes of a killer. He had no soul.

“I’m glad you did not keep me waiting long.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Ummmm, got some fire in you. I like that. I will take that from you, too. My name is Ramsey Bolton, by the way.”

That was when Daenerys knew he meant to kill her. He had revealed his face and name to her. She refused to look back at her bed, and the butcher knife she kept underneath her pillows. She had to hope he would be careless in his overconfidence.

“I need to know where it is, Daenerys of old Valyria. I need that flash drive.”

Daenerys had long ago learned to school her face and actions. Now she knew exactly what he was after. She also knew the instant she gave it to him, she was dead.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she squeaked out in a tremulous voice, every inch the totally overwhelmed and frightened nineteen-year-old. She looked terrified and helpless. She was terrified, but would gut the man if she got the opportunity.

“I did not have time to search your apartment yet. Just give it to me, and I will leave you alone. This never happened.”

“I w-w-w-ould if I had it, but I don’t. Please leave. I never did anything to you.”

The man sighed heavily. “I know you have it, bitch. Tyrion Lannister spilled his guts before we killed the little fucking dwarf.”

Daenerys felt her stomach clench. “I don’t know any dwarf. You have the wrong girl. P-p-p-please leaveeee!” she whined, moving towards the door. The man blocked her path.

Daenerys remembered six months ago, when she first started meeting Tyrion. She had been surprised and initially pissed when he did not want to fuck her. He had wanted to talk to her about old Valyria. Its long lost people and lost culture. What the fuck did she care about a dead land and a dead culture?

He had told her that he was an archeologist who had started to dig on the outskirts of that haunted land, that land no one who entered into ever returned from. Daenerys had no use for her lost heritage. It didn’t put food on her table, or clothes on her back.

He had gone on about the wonders of the lost kingdom. He spoke of magic and dragons (she had spit out her drink at that, which made him glare at her good naturedly). He had spoken as if they had actually existed. He mused that maybe she could be a dragon queen. That had her laughing so hard she fell on her ass.

She had grown bored and told him, that if he did not want to fuck her she was leaving. Her pride had been hurt to be rejected. She smirked when she revealed herself to him, and his cock got raging hard. He was quite endowed for his stature, and he knew how to suck a woman off. He actually boned better than her next best fuck, Khal Drogo.

He was organizing his next dig, and they met about every three weeks to talk and to fuck. She liked that he actually seemed interested in her personally, and would listen without interrupting constantly about himself. For some reason he still left her feeling cold. He touched her body, but not her soul.

Three weeks ago, he had indeed given her a USB drive for “backup”. Thinking back, Daenerys had thought he seemed off that day.

Now she knew she had been right.

Things quickly escalated.

Ramsey got suddenly more vile and violent. She tried to talk her way out of the situation, but saw the man’s sadistic nature getting the best of him. He struck her cheek with his palm, and she stumbled into her dresser. She righted herself. He again demanded the USB. She made a run for it.

He struck her hard, and she landed on the bed. She was just going to make a rush for the knife she always slept with underneath her pillow. She knew it was likely futile, but she was not going down without a fight.

Then she heard the assassin’s name softly called in a feminine voice. She whipped her head around to see the man move like a cat, but it made no difference. She saw a woman in a ski mask firing at the assassin. Daenerys watched bullets rip into Ramsey’s body, knocking him down. He surged back up, but three bullets exploded in his heart, killing him. Before he could tumble down, the woman spoke another woman’s name in a dead voice, and put a bullet between Ramsey’s eyes.

She had been saved. But any elation she would have normally felt was instantly washed away by the woman’s demeanor and body language. She had her gun up, ready for use at a split-second notice, and she talked to her like a piece of shit.

How dare she! As the woman spoke, Daenerys felt her anger flaring. If she was going to die she would go down swinging! SLAP!

She had slapped the insolent woman - hard.

“I will let you have that one prostitute. Don’t strike me again.” Was the cold reply. This woman was a killer too, but she was restrained. Still, her response emphasizing Dany’s profession enraged her.

“My name is DAENERYS TARGARYEN!”  Daenerys looked at the woman with her ski mask, and the surgical mask covering her mouth. “And take that gods damned mask off, for gods sake! You look like an idiot!

The woman instantly started to comply, then halted. “Has it occurred to you that if you saw my face, I would have to kill you?”

Oh puhleaseeeee!”

The mask was ripped off and flung aside, then the woman snatched it out the air with an impressive reflex twitch muscle response. She jammed it savagely into her pants pocket.

The woman in her late twenties glared at Dany. She had a long face, grey eyes, and dark brown hair cut in a shaggy haircut, easily maintained and too short to get in her eyes. She had that ‘girl next door’ kind of beauty. She was thin and athletic, with an animal’s posture as she rode on the balls of her feet. She could strike in the blink of an eye, Daenerys sensed.

“Do you know where this gods damned USB flash drive is?” the assassin barked at her.


Daenerys smirked, seeing the woman start before putting a bland look back on her face.

“I’m impressed. I believed you. As did Ramsey, I am sure. Your act saved you long enough for me to save your ass.”

“Fuck you!”

In our dreams. Can I have it?” The woman saw her hesitate. “I did save your life,” she told her gently. “By the way, how did you learn how to lie so well?”

“When you are prostitute to the rich and famous, you learn to give academy award performances to keep their little egos intact. Most of them can’t fuck with worth a fuck!”

The woman chuckled at that.

Dany finally relented and went to her pocket book. She opened up the Chloe mini drew crossbody bag, and fished out the USB drive.

The assassin cocked an eyebrow. “Pays the bills well, I see.” She nodded at Dany’s expensive dress and hand bag.

Dany glared at her as she handed over the USB drive.

“Who do you work for?”

“The FBI, in a division that does not exist. If I die, they never knew me. I don’t exist.”

“You fucking lie!” Daenerys barked back. “They don’t kill people!”

“I would show you my badge, but then I would have to kill you. Every government has its little dirty agencies to do the messy work, and if the agent gets killed then they just wash their hands of the corpse and move onto the next agent. Clean, efficient and effective. Every week “bad guys” go to sleep, and they don’t wake because of people like me.”

Dany followed the agent out of her bedroom, and to the front door where she retrieved a large backpack and opened it, pulling out a laptop without logos. She opened it, and it almost instantly powered up.

“How did it power up so fast?”

“All solid state hard drives, and really, really fast memory.”

After a minute of typing, the woman put in her USB drive into a USB port.

Almost immediately her mouth fell open, and she ripped the drive out her computer’s port.

“What’s wrong?” Dany asked, worried. This woman seemed extremely competent. Her face had registered shock and some fear.

“That fucker is encrypted with triple DES with 256bit encryption. On top of that, the fucker has a worm virus. It tried to attack my computer. If my computer was not hardened and loaded with the best anti-virus software, it would be toast now.

Dany watched the woman typing furiously. “It seems as if the virus and bots have been quarantined.”

She looked at Dany with a new regard. “You really don’t know what this is about?”

“No, I do not.”

“Who gave this to you?”

“Tyrion Lannister.”

She saw the FBI agent thinking furiously. “Must be an alias. What is his cover story?”

“He is a professor of Archeology and Anthropology at King’s Landing University.”

“Ain’t no fucking way.”

“Check for yourself.”

“Can I use your computer?”

“Use yours.”

“I can’t—if the Internet touches it after that bot got on it … I can’t risk it.”

Dany took the assassin to her living room, and opened her Apple laptop and logged in. The agent sat down, and went to the web site.

She read for a few minutes. In a low voice : “He has been there for twelve years.” Then she sat back. She did not move, and Dany went to her kitchen to get a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator.   She went back out to the agent.

“What is your name?”

The woman turned to look at her. They stared at each other for a long time.


Dany repeated the name.   She liked how it rolled on her tongue. “I like it. It fits you.”

To her surprise the woman blushed a little, and turned her face back down to the computer on her lap.

“If this is a cover, then he is a mighty deep agent. I have to believe he is not an operative.”

“What do we do?”

Arya turned to look at her again with cold eyes.

“I’m coming with you. I read between the lines. When they, whoever, discover their team got butchered by you they will be coming for me with triple the force if not more. I will be dead. That is a condition I very much want to avoid.”Dany insisted.

The woman continued to look at her coldly. Finally, she spoke. “You are right. I did save you. And you can be my contact to this ‘Tyrion’.”

Dany did not let her emotions show on her face. Thankfully, the agent had not heard the beginning of the conversation she had with “Ramsey”. She would play her card.

“Do you have his contact information?”

“No. The escort agency always handled setting up our ‘dates’.”

“That won’t do.” The woman sighed. “I will work on that.”

“Go gather a small suitcase, and your carry on with all your essentials. I am afraid we need to leave here in the next ten minutes. Ramsey liked to play a long time with his prey. These teams tend to be self-composed. It will be several hours before anyone knows something is amiss. Ramsey always demanded his playtime.”

“Make sure you bring a hat and some scarves.” When Daenerys looked at her, Arya only said, “I will tell you later. Come on—move it! You’re right, we don’t want to be anywhere near here when the next team moves in, or the Feds. Neither is an option for us. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You’re avenged.” Arya said softly as Dany turned to leave. Arya was staring at the corpse of the hitman she had put down.

Dany saw a faraway look come over Arya’s face. Dany had an intuitive leap. Nyomi had been her lover, and Ramsey had killed her.

She went to pack what she would need. She ripped out a small traveling case from out of her closet, for when clients took her on short jaunts to Essos for a weekend of profitable debauchery.

She started to pack some basic plain trousers and blouse tops. Nothing ostentatious. She had to blend in now. She grabbed several hats and scarves, and some ray ban sunglasses. No cheap sunglasses for her. She would hide her hair and eyes. Daenerys finished packing some clothes, underwear (she really only had the best panties and bras), and toiletries she stuffed in her carry on bag. She went into her bedroom and gathered her personal electronic devices. Then she closed her case.

For some reason, Dany trusted the woman. If she had wanted to kill Dany, she would have killed her already. Her breath caught and her pulse leapt up, pounding in her ears. Could she be tested?

What if Arya had left her to her fate? What if she had left while Dany was packing?

She snatched her small suitcase and carry-on, and bolted out the room and down the hall. She nearly fainted when she say Arya checking her backpack, sitting between her feet in front of the main coffee table as she sat on her expensive leather sofa. Daenerys was going to miss all of this, but she would miss living a lot more.

She knew she would miss something else. Something precious. She had only one true friend, and she would really miss her.

Arya looked up at her like she had sprouted a third head.

“I thought you might have left me.” Dany panted out.

The agent stood slowly. She looked at her with that strange, dead gaze that she was coming to associate with assassins. Still, there something different about this one.

“I long ago ceased being a Stark. But the echoes still reverberate deep in me. I will not abandon you.”

Suddenly the front door sprung open.

“Dany! I’m here!”

The assassin spun around with her gun out in her hand, her arms coming up take aim.

Dany’s heart leapt to her throat as Arya Stark took deadly aim at Missandei Naath’s forehead, and her finger started to press down on the trigger.



Chapter Text

That Which Survives

On The Run


Missandei was excited as she hurried back to her apartment. The afternoon classes had been cancelled. She only had the one on string theory, and then normally had lab where she helped underclassmen with their physics and advanced quantum math problems. She was much sought after for both her brilliance and her ability to help students work out their problems. She had the gift of the common touch.

The just turned seventeen-year-old was a prodigy. She had come to Stormlands University because of its world renowned Math and Physics department at the age of twelve. The University’s Chemistry and Astrophysics programs were just a notch below in reputation compared to Braavos State University, and the Armar mo Dhesha Institute in Meereen.

The little 4’11” petite teenager was also gifted with the violin and guitar, and had received additional scholarships for her musical abilities. She had been the star that all wanted on their campus. She had been awkward as a preteen, but she liked to think she had blossomed into an adroit and attractive young woman.

She was also a polyglot who spoke eleven languages fluently. Both her parents were interpreters at the United League of Nations located in Pentos. Her parents, while slightly above middle class, could never have afforded to send their daughter to such a prestigious university without her many scholarships. Missandei was terribly proud of the fact that she had all her expenses paid because of her own efforts, intelligence and determination.

She was hurrying home to get her DVD set of season one of Doctor Who. She could not wait to watch them with her best friend, the woman she secretly loved, Daenerys Targaryen. She knew it was a hopeless love, but she did not care. She would gladly be the moon who circled the vibrant, brilliant star named Daenerys.

She had met the composed young woman a year and half ago, when she came into the room for the Classical Music Club. Her mouth fell open when the vision of perfection walked into the room, and all the nerds and dweebs (herself included) stared at the composed and self-assured woman. For some reason she and the goddess had bonded that first day, over their love of JS Bach’s sonatas and partitas for solo violin. She had felt so warm and smug that first day, knowing it was she who captured this woman’s friendship.

She had of course fallen in love with Daenerys Targaryen, but quickly discovered the woman was so straight she could have cut herself on her sharp edges. It didn’t even matter the Valyrian was a high end prostitute, as she soon discovered. The woman did not hide it; Dany felt no shame in her profession. It allowed her to go to college and live comfortably. Her profession meant nothing to Missandei. She admired the woman doing what she had to do to survive. She loved the girl with all her fiber and being. She would lay her life down for the Valyrian.

She was hurrying through the snow from her apartment five streets over, relishing the snow because she knew she would have the woman all to herself for the weekend. Oh, how she longed to have the woman take her virginity, and take her as her lover. She shivered with more than the cold, knowing how good they would be for each other.

As she reached her friend’s house she saw Dany’s Outback in her reserved parking space and smiled. Of course she had a key to the front door, and was surprised when she found the door was unlocked. That was not like Dany, but maybe she had wanted to get in out of the snow quickly.

In her excitement, she pushed the door open with a start. “Dany! I’m here!”

There was a strange woman in Dany’s apartment, and she had a gun pointed at her head! The Doctor Who Blu-ray boxed set fell to the floor.

Dany screamed. “NNNNOOOOOOOOO!”

All three women froze for a handful of rapid heartbeats. Finally, the unknown woman lowered her gun slightly, but had it still ready for instant use.

“Who is this woman?” the stranger called back to Dany.

“She is my best friend, Missandei.”

The woman took a deep breath and lowered her gun the rest of the way.

“Grab your suitcase. We’re leaving.”

“Missandei is coming with us.”

The woman whipped around, her entire body exuding righteous fury. “Like hell she is! I agreed to bring you. Not anyone else, and especially not some wet behind the ears wolf pup! She has no part of this tableau.”

Missandei watched her sweet angel’s face twist into a snarl as Dany advanced on the deadly woman. Her hand went back and slapped the stranger hard! That frightened Missandei, but what really scared her was that stranger’s head did not move a millimeter. What kind of person could control themselves to that degree?

“I warned you.” the woman growled in a low deep voice.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Dany breathed hard “You fucking cunt! I’m not stupid. If I disappear who will they go for next? Everyone knows she is my bestie. She’s my only friend. How long would it be before a car came up beside her? She’d be whisked in, and never seen again! HOW LONG? Tell me!” her friend screamed at the woman.

Missandei watched the stranger glare at her best friend. She moved forward, slowly seeing the woman’s cheeks work as she ground her teeth.

The woman slowly turned and went to the sofa to sit down. All the while she grumbled softly. “In five minutes we leave. No questions!”

Missandei moved next to Dany, anxiously wringing her hands. “Hey, you,” barked the strange woman, and Missandei knew she was speaking to her. “Don’t touch a gods damned thing. At all!”

Her friend gripped her arm, and pulled her towards her bedroom. “Andi—prepare yourself—okay?” Dany told her softly, with that power she had when she chose to use it - like she was now.

Missandei wanted to ask her best friend about her face. It was obvious someone had slapped her viciously. The left side of her face was beet red, and her cheek was slightly swollen.

“Did that woman—”

“No she did not … prepare yourself.”

She shook her head in compliance, not sure of what to expect. Dany got behind her and gripped her shoulders, pressing into her back and slowly pushed her forward. Missandei felt her body surge, feeling her friend’s breasts and body pressed into her back and ass.

The thrill died when she entered the bedroom. A gasped breath escaped her mouth as her eyes went wide and her body began to shake.

Dany whispered in her ear gently as she stared, wide eyed, at the dead man on the floor, his body soaked in blood and his face ruined with a bullet hole.

She felt Dany’s breath in her ear lightly. “That man was going to rape me, torture me and then kill me, Missandei. He was after something a client gave me. I had no idea it was this important. He would have done the same thing to you as well, if that woman had not killed him. She killed seven other men before this one. I know she is dark, but she has a soul in there somewhere.

“She was going to leave me to my fate, but my palm seems to strike something in her.” Dany smirked at the pun. “I fear you must come with me, Missandei, until this gets all straightened out. If they were willing to put this much effort into this man’s mission, then this is only the start. I want to protect you. Please come with us.”

Dany slowly turned her away from the corpse. Missandei looked at the love of her life, protecting her and saving her from certain death. For the millionth time, Missandei fell into Dany’s violet orbs, losing herself in her love for the woman. She knew she would never get to actually tell the woman her little pet phrases she had created in her mind, describing her longed for desires. How she longed to hold Dany, and make love to her, and whisper to her afterwards “my sun and stars” and “moon of my life”.

Alas, it would never be.

“I will follow wherever you lead me, Dany. I trust you implicitly and completely.” There was nothing else to say, really.

Dany shook her white blond tresses, and smiled that megawatt smile that totally captured Missandei’s heart from the first time they met.

They came back up out of the bedroom. Missandei saw that the woman was up with her backpack on her back, pacing agitatedly.

“We’re ready to go now, Arya.”

So that was the agent’s name. She was already immeasurably in debt to this woman for saving her love’s life.

The agent passed them, going back into the bedroom.

Dany called out: “What are you doing? I thought you said we had to leave.” She appeared exasperated.

The woman growled from the bedroom, “I am picking up his Iphone. It has data on it. I am also going through his pockets, taking anything of value.”

Arya was in the room for a minute, and then came out with a grim look on her face. “Time to hit the road.”

Dany picked up her suitcase and put her carry-on bag strap over her shoulder. In her other arm, she picked up her laptop bag. Arya must have packed it when they were in Dany’s bedroom.

“How far away do you live from here?” Arya asked her.

“Her name is Missandei.” Dany informed Arya in a testy tone.


“I live five streets over, in Baratheon Hall.”

“Daenerys. I assume you have a car. We will drive over there, and you have fifteen minutes to pack whatever she has of value. Bring all electronics. They have identifying data and may be of use.”

She and Dany hesitated.

“Well, lead the way damnit! Ramsey liked to play, so we’ve got several more hours before the hounds of hell are unleashed, and I want to be as far away as possible. Also, there are two corpses in a car down the street. Someone will eventually notice them. We need to leave now!”

That kick started Dany, who handed Missandei her computer. She then gripped Missandei’s arm and propelled her forward and out the house. They quickly went to Daenerys’ car. Arya bent down and picked up the Dr. Who box set of DVDs. She snorted. Of course. Arya got in the back with her gun out, and scanned out all the windows in a clear pattern all the way to Missandei’s dorm. She was clearly on edge, and it put her two companions on edge as well.

They soon reached Missandei’s dorm for post-graduates. Arya handed Missandei her Dr. Who DVDs with a smirk.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes.” Arya looked at them form the back seat. “Give me your keys, Daenerys.” She took the keys as Daenerys glared at her. “If you are not back in fifteen minutes, I am gone. Time is fleeting. We must get away. If the shit hits the fan out here, I will handle it and then come get you. What room number is your apartment?”

“6438-C.”Missandei supplied.

“Go.” Dany bristled at the tone, but had no choice but to comply. She urged Missandei to get moving.

Dany and Missandei got out of Dany’s Outback. They hurried to the stairs and scurried up the flight, and were soon in Missandei’s apartment.

She turned to look Dany. “Do you trust her, Dany?”

“Yes I do, Missandei. She did not come to my apartment to save me, but to kill that assassin you saw on the floor. She had a personal score to settle. He moved like a cat, but she took him out just like that.” Dany said, snapping her fingers.

“She was going to leave me to my fate. But I was able to convince her that she needs to take me, or why save me to begin with? She could have let that man torture and kill me. I’m betting she contemplated that, and the guilt is eating at her. I am riding that.”

Missandei stopped, Dany and turned so she could look at her face closely. Missandei reached out and touched the swollen cheek, still red.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but you just made it feel better.” Dany smiled at her and turned away to help her start packing. She missed the look of pure love beaming back at her. Missandei was desperate for any signs of affection from her best friend.

“Come on, let’s get your stuff.” Dany looked at her watch. “We only have twelve minutes.” Missandei fished out her suitcase from the closet, and they quickly put in jeans, sweaters, shirts, blouse tops and two pairs of tennis shoes. They stuffed in her Iphone 6s+, two Ipads, Ipod, and disconnected her Xbox and controllers. When Dany looked at the game console curiously, Missandei explained: “I use it to send encrypted data.” Dany smiled at that, which made Missandei’s heart pitter-patter.

“Damn you’re smart, girl!” the white haired woman squeezed her arm, making Missandei’s heart pound even harder.

Missandei raced to the bathroom and retrieved toiletry items, and put them in a carrying bag. Then she went to her study area in her living room, and put her Apple 2016 MacBook Pro 15 In Retina Display 2.5GHz Quad-Core i7 16GB/512GB laptop in its bag, and took the twenty-eight inch flat screen she used as a monitor down after disconnecting it. She put it in her suitcase as well, packing it under her clothes.

She told Dany one could get an awful lot of data on the screen, and they might need it.

They made it back to Dany’s Outback together with one minute to spare. The dark headed girl motioned for them to sit in the front seats again.

The assassin from the back told them to drive over to Martell Lane, and stop in front of the large oak tree. There would be a Dodge Ram 1500 four door. Arya would get in the truck, and they would follow her to the Walmart located just off campus.

Missandei noticed that Dany’s license plates were on the floorboard at her feet.

“Why did you remove her license plates?”

“Got to love University. I found plates on a Subaru from the Riverlands. I took the plates off another car, and put them on that Subaru. We will be leaving this car at the twenty-four hour Walmart near the entrance. Hopefully, it will be days before anyone notices it hasn’t moved. Technology is in place that take pictures of license plates as they pass under traffic lights, and references them in real time. You have local plates, and that is the databases they will tap. People don’t realize how many different file formats there are. The Riverlands data is in a different format. That will throw them off if they scan the parking lot.

Missandei looked at Dany. Both were impressed.

They drove in silence till they arrived at the large oak tree. Arya got out wordlessly. She had them pop the trunk, and she put all their gear into the back of her truck cab. Missandei knew they were in for keeps, now.

Arya got into the truck and quickly took off. They followed. The snow was falling heavily still, but the wind had died down. The two women discussed their situation, and came to the conclusion they had to stick with the assassin. Only she could save them. They just hoped the woman would not have a change of heart in the end, and turn them in to her agency.

“But can we truly trust her?” Missandei asked.

Dany looked out the window for a long moment. “I think so. For some reason, I just know that Arya will now do all in her power to save us. Her honor has been touched, and we are part of a mystery she wants to solve. I just hope we all can live with whatever the answers are.”

Missandei could tell that thought gnawed at her friend as she stared intently out the windshield, between the oscillating wiper blades.

Arya drove them to the Walmart and drove around the parking lot once, then came back and pointed to an empty slot near the front doors. Dany parked her car, and looked at Missandei. “You ready?”


“Neither am I.” They both laughed softly, and got out of Dany’s vehicle, locking it before wordlessly heading to Arya’s pickup. Dany got in the front passenger seat, and Missandei sat in the back. It was understood that Dany would be near Arya so that they could plan. Missandei was the wonk that could support, but it was these two women that would get her through the danger to safety.

Missandei was struck by that thought. Arya exuded competence, as she should. But when she looked at Dany, she sat with her back straight and her body almost seemed to be leaning forward into the danger. She was ready to fight for her survival. Missandei felt a warm feeling, knowing that Dany considered Missandei to be part of her survival.

Missandei looked out the window. She was scared shitless, but with Dany by her side she could meet her destiny. In the back of her mind, she nursed the secret hope that maybe somehow that Dany would come to love her. She was being naïve, childish, stupid and reckless, but she couldn’t but hope that somehow this situation would work to her favor, and lead Dany to her arms and her bed.

Missandei looked at her reflection in the window. Gods, she was crazy to be thinking such thoughts when their lives were possibly on the line.

“Where are we going?” Missandei heard Dany ask Arya.

“To King Aegon airport, twenty miles out down Route 645.”

“Why not King’s Landing International? Shouldn’t we be flying to Essos? It’s closer and has more flights.”

“That is what they think we should do. No. We will not be flying to Essos. More importantly, that airport has facial recognition software installed. That is expensive technology, and bless capitalism, but the cost has not been deemed worth it for the smaller airports yet.”

“Where are we going, then?”

“Oldtown. It still has a lot of the old city. It still has many of the old narrow streets and a warren of stores, homes, businesses and apartments. We can easily get lost in there, and stay low while we figure out what in the seven hells is going on.” She paused. “Also, there will be no use of wireless technology.”

“So they can’t track us?’

“Yes. If we use cell phones, we will buy burner phones with the minutes already applied.”

They drove on for five more minutes, then approached the bridge over the river Po. Arya pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store.

“Get out your smartphones, and take out the SIM cards. And then hand them all to me.”

Missandei balked. “No. I have a lot of personal data on that phone, and special apps.” She had so many photos of Dany that she would die if she lost them.

Arya stared at her. “Damnit! You’ve got ten minutes to transfer any personal data to your laptops. Turn off the gods damned wifi before you do anything else!” The teens urgently ripped their laptops out of their cases, and powered up. Arya fumed while the two teenagers hurriedly hooked up their phones with USB cables, and started downloading data. Dany was finished within the time allotted. Missandei was not.

“I need more time!” Missandei pleaded.

“Ten more minutes! no more!”

Ten minutes later: “Pleasseeeeeee!”

“Five more minutes, gods damn it!”

She was handed the phones five minutes later. She removed a heavy hammer from a bag she twisted into the back to get. She stepped outside, bent down, and pulverized the phones with repeated blows. She picked up the detritus.

She handed the ruined phones to Dany. “When we get to the middle of the bridge I am going to stop. Get out, and throw all that over the bridge and into the river.”

Dany nodded, and three minutes later the phones were in the river.

“Daenerys, put your hair up, and get it underneath that hat you brought and put on your sunglasses. Enough people wear them; it won’t stand out that much. We need to hide your hair and eyes. They’re too striking. Also, get your makeup bag out, and put some base on your left cheek to hide the redness. You don’t want to bring any attention to yourself. When we get time, we will dye your hair and get some contact lenses to hide those violet eyes.”

“You can call me Dany.”

“When we get to the airport, I will by tickets for us. I want you, Daenerys, and Missandei, to keep a low profile, and find some seats out of the main concourse.”

Missandei saw her friend bristle. She was trying to get on a better footing with the agent, but the woman was having none of it. She saw Dany turn to look out the window in a huff.

She took advantage of the opportunity, and stared at Dany’s beautiful person. She so longed to comfort and love her best friend.

She felt eyes on her, and turned her head slightly. She saw Arya staring at her from the rear view mirror. Missandei quickly busied herself, opening Dany’s small suitcase and found the floppy hat and ray ban sunglasses and pulled them out. She fished out some ties for Dany’s hair.

Her friend’s pique had passed, and when she saw Missandei had her hat, ties and sunglasses for her, she gave her that beaming smile that always made Missandei wobbly in the knees. Thank goodness she was seated.

As her friend put her hair up, Arya spoke to them again.

“We will park in long term parking. I bought this truck when I arrived with cash at a small used car business. It will not lead anyone to us.”

Missandei helped Dany put makeup on, to cover the reddened cheek.

“I am solo on this mission. I had no backup. No one knows where I am. This was an unsanctioned hit and I cannot go home after this. I don’t care. I came to do what I had to do. Me taking out a whole team of agents from Essos will upset the entire world of black ops.

“We are basically at peace with each other, with an uneasy set of rules that allow for us to have a détente between our organizations. We need to operate in each other’s playgrounds, and I have mightily upset that now.

“I am sure that I have not caused a full scale black ops war, but the FBI will have to literally provide my head as recompense. I have no desire to part with it anytime soon. Plus, we have a mystery to solve - what the fuck is so important about an archeology dig in the wastelands of old Valyria? Science doesn’t work there, or the far north of Westeros among a few other places. Magic is no more. Why is that USB drive that you have encrypted up the ass, and full of viruses and bots?

“We need to get out of King’s Landing. We need distance to go to ground. We can hide, and start to figure out what the hell is going on.

“Follow my instructions explicitly. Don’t make me regret my decision to save you two. I will not jeopardize my life to save you, from this point on. If you fuck up, you are dead.”

Dany glared at the stoic woman, who had just basically said they were pieces of shit to her.

Missandei fretted in the back.

Please gods, let us make it out of King’s Landing alive.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Arya got out of the pickup and looked up at the sky. The snow was falling heavily, but the lack of wind was a godsend. Everything was a calculated risk. They could not afford to be spotted, and she knew facial recognition software was stored in the cloud and on local HD. Agencies would be pouring over all available footage.

King Aegon airport did not have that security installed, with much fewer continental flights to Essos and beyond. The threat of terrorism or use as a transient point was much smaller at the smaller airports. The airport would have less snow removal equipment and deicing facilities, but they also had fewer planes to deice.

Arya shouldered her backpack and her own suitcase. She shepherded her charges to walk in front of her, as she walked behind them twenty paces, looking around subtly for any sings of persons taking notice of them. Her worries seemed groundless. The few people out were hurrying to their destinations, paying them no heed.

She led them into the airport, and she released a breath when she heard a jet taking off. She looked to her left, and saw a TransEsso 767 taking off with engines roaring.

Arya went to the ticket counter for Blue Skies, which specialized in commuter routes. They acted as a feeder line, running routes to smaller cities to aggregate the traffic back to bigger airports. They also ran routes in the early hours of the morning, to get business clients to their destinations early.

Arya had left her two charges some distance from the counter. She did not want the ticketing agents to see them up close milling around. Arya found a flight to Oldtown that would leave at midnight. That was still three hours away, but she had no choice but to wait. She looked up on the flight board, and saw numerous cancellations flashing red.

She gnawed her lip. Their flight may be delayed or cancelled, but it was a chance she had to take. She used cash to pay for the tickets, and provided a fake ID to use for computer cross reference checks on terrorist watch lists. She gave them her suitcases, and groused about the luggage fees and what a crime it was. The woman smiled thinly. Arya knew the counter woman had heard the same complaints a million times. But she was playing the role of a normal passenger. She watched the security guard patrolling the area, not taking any notice of her. She was just another nondescript person trying to get home, or leave for a business trip.

She went and gave the tickets to Daenerys and Missandei. She told them to act calm and natural. She told Missandei to declare the twenty-eight inch screen in her suitcase up front, so as to allay any concerns, and then let them examine it without protest.

Arya knew the shit could hit the fan as the girls moved up to the ticket counter. She had to admire how the prostitute maintained her composure, and kept Missandei calm. They made it through the ticketing, and handed over their luggage without incident.

Well I will be damned, Arya thought, maybe the old gods do exist. She snorted at the thought of the faith of her father and siblings. Arya was the only one in her family who didn’t believe.

She gathered her charges, and shepherded them to a small restaurant in the concourse.

“What do we do now?” Dany asked the agent.

“We get the hell out of King’s Landing is what we do. We need to stay low and get on our flight, and get out of here. We must get somewhere safe, and then start working this. We need to figure out just what is so important that eight operatives are dead.”

They ate their meal in silence. Missandei picked at her food and kept looking at Dany for reassurance. The Targaryen smiled at her, and patted her arm. Arya did not miss the interaction. The small black teenager was in love with the prostitute, and the woman had no idea. That was her problem.

Arya asked them what degrees they were studying for. The prostitute was not sure what she wanted to be, but was working on a literature degree on antiquities with a minor in ancient history. Arya mentally rolled her eyes. What a fucking waste of time and effort. The woman was going nowhere fast with that degree.

Missandei, on the other hand, was a revelation. She had told the agent without guile that though she was only seventeen, she already had a PHD in Particle Physics and Quantum Dynamics. She was currently finishing her doctoral thesis on Nanotechnology & Materials Chemistry, plus working on a masters in chemical engineering. The girl simply loved to learn, it seemed. Arya was gobsmacked. The girl was a freaking Einstein. She could be of help in their situation. Although Arya was impressed, she would never let the girl know it. Dany surprised her even more, telling Arya that Andi spoke eleven languages and loved to break codes. Andi had proved to be a musical prodigy as well.

Arya shook her head. Some people got all the talent.

They finished their meal, and milled around for another half hour with stilted silences followed by fidgeting. Finally, Arya had had enough and took them to the concourse, and found them a row of seats that were near the entry gate to the loading gantry for their airline.

They sat and waited for their flight.

Thirty minutes later Arya was up and cursing softly. Their flight to Oldtown had been delayed by three hours. Arya felt her ass clench in frustration, and had to calm herself. She was losing time, but the weather would be working against her enemies, too.

She told Dany and Andi that the flight had been delayed, and they would just need to remain calm. She suggested that they take a nap, but Arya knew that was beyond reach. The teenagers were both remarkable calm, but clearly wired. Arya sensed that as long as Daenerys remained calm, that her lovesick friend would remain calm as well.

She decided to use the black girl’s attraction to Daenerys to their advantage.

“You two.” They looked at her. “I want you to act like lovers—and I am not talking porno either … I just want you two to seem like affectionate lovers.”

“Why?” the prostitute asked curiously. The black girl simply stared at her.

“If anyone comes looking for you Daenerys, they will be looking for a single woman of Valyrian descent. If they see two young women who do not look like what they are looking for—no white hair—then they will not even see you to begin with. I’ve been thinking. With it so dark in here, take off the sunglasses. They stand out to much. Keep your head down if you take a walk. Missandei, you walk to the inside and Daenerys you walk close to the wall and look out the windows a lot. We have still got to keep those eyes hidden as much as possible.

“When we get to Oldtown, we will be dying your hair and I will get some cosmetic contact lenses. We will have to make do as best we can till then. Did you bring a beanie by any chance?” she asked the girls.

Missandei had. It was in her large carry-on bag she had thrown stuff into. Arya told Missandei to pull it out, and for Dany put it on. Arya looked around, and saw only a few people in the general area, and they were looking elsewhere.

Arya told Dany once again to put it on. When Dany looked at her questioningly, Arya told her it would make her look just that little bit more gay. The beautiful woman shrugged, and bent over at the waist, then came back up with her pinned up hair in a beige beanie.

Arya looked on, bemused. She did look a little more gay.

“Stay in character.” She ordered her charges.

Arya smirked seeing Missandei immediately take to her orders. She took Daenerys’ hand in hers, and started to rub her thumb pad over the back of the prostitute’s hand. She noticed the younger girl was left handed. Probably explained why she was so gifted.

Arya observed the two women for a few minutes while pretending to read the latest issue of Cosmopolitan she had found on the seat beside her. She thumbed through the issue, disgusted by all the women primping for disgusting men. Damnit, why didn’t they have a Lesbopolitan? Arya fumed to herself.

Arya quickly felt sorry for the black girl, who was obviously living out her long cherished fantasy. Arya might not be good at feeling emotions, but she had learned to read them with her profession. It had saved her life more than once. The little Einstein was living the dream, and the prostitute was looking at her bemused. One was in love, and one was not. Worse, Daenerys did not even see that her friend was in love with her.

Why did that happen so often, Arya wondered? Why was affection so often a one-way street?

Arya’s eyes flared a fraction, and she groaned to herself. Now she was hearing the theme song from Baby Einstein in her head. “We are going on a mission, start the countdown 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…” oh gods save me.

Arya wrestled to expel that damn tune out of her head.

She turned her thoughts on what to do when they flew into Oldtown. She would take them to a small used car lot, and buy some old piece of shit neon, fiat or some other non-descript car. She needed a car that could navigate the small streets that had been modified to allow for traffic in the ancient warren of Oldtown.

She had been praying for this day for years, and knew her career would be over when it came. She had seeded the lands of Westeros and Essos both with safe drops in small storage companies in the major cities. Some like Oldtown had several, dispersed according to where she would go to ground to begin creating her new identity.

Now she would need three new identities.

She would meet with the contact she had used for her illegal documents. She could do it herself, but she was a jack of all trades and no supreme master at any one. She would have new Social Security cards and licenses created, and most importantly passports for herself and her charges. Money could buy anything, and the silence necessary. Most of her contacts had no love of authority. She had tools of the trade in the storage units. She had paid for the rooms with full one-year deposits. Any more may have caused undue interest. She had a schedule app on her Ipad to keep them all paid.

She had also seeded in small banks and credit unions across the globe, accounts with ten to twenty thousand dollars she had put in with medium increments to build up just for this moment.

She had been taking money from many of her hits, and taking valuables to pawn off as well. She would carry the valuables across the globe, then hawk them at a local pawn shop. It was amazing what some of those watches and necklaces went for.

She had taken kilos of opium and hash from drug lords she had taken out to sell on the black market. She had raided some of the safes of her hits, and had acquired millions of dollars and electronic keys to bank accounts she quickly siphoned dry. She deserved that money, having had to fuck those pigs to get close enough to do the hit.

She had much of her money in accounts in the Summer Islands and New Yeen on the continent of Sothoryos. With their tax free havens, no questions were asked.

Arya idled away the time, planning their escape itinerary and constantly suppressing that damn Baby Einstein melody.

She moved her left hand slowly underneath her right sleeve, and played with the spindle of razor wire and pull ring. She twisted the spindle strapped to her wrist. The motion calmed her.

Her charges got up to walk the concourse, following her directions. They walked hand in hand with Missandei constantly touching Daenerys to make a point. With the delayed flights, more people were showing up in the terminal. It no longer seemed empty like a new crypt. There was a fair smattering of people sitting, or aimlessly walking like her charges.

That was when Arya saw her. An agent. Her outward appearance was one of boredom, but Arya could tell she was tense as hell on the inside. The way the woman’s eyes took in everything, and her erect posture, ready for action at a moment’s notice screamed ‘agent’ to Arya. Agents had a sixth sense with their own kind. Arya hunched down, looking at her magazine, and surreptitiously watched the woman.

The agent was wearing business casual, like she was getting on a flight to a distant city. She was tall, about 5’ 10”, and outweighed Arya by a good thirty-five to forty pounds. She was blond, and drop dead beautiful. She was Hollywood’s perfect female version of the super agent.

Her clothing hid her physique, but Arya knew she was as toned and as well muscled as herself – though she had a lot more of it. Arya hoped she would not have to fight the woman. Weight and height were pure advantages all by themselves, and the agent must have at least her equivalent in training. Hopefully she was on travel to a distant port.

The agent looked around intently, and then sat down a hundred yards past them. She was near the middle of the concourse. There were two in the airport. She wondered if the other concourse also had an agent working it. The other concourse catered to only domestic flights, so if you only had one agent you would hit the one with international flights. Arya calmed a little. Maybe she would be moving on.

Arya got up with her small tote bag, and walked down the concourse. She went over to the wall beside the restrooms. They had some large potted fake bushes, and bamboo for color. Arya stretched and knelt down, opening her bag and acting like she was looking for her IPod. She glanced up and looked at the woman in the distance.

She was looking intently up and down the concourse. Arya felt adrenaline start to pump in her body. The agent was definitely looking for someone. Her two charges had sat down again, and were totally overlooked by the woman. She pulled out her microwave scrambler, and reached up behind the potted plants and turned it on, using the suction cup to attach it to the wall as she did.

She got up and walked slowly back to her seat across from her charges. The woman was a hundred yards down the concourse, still looking around. Arya watched the woman tap her ear.

Arya’s expression did not change. The agent’s communication channels were now jammed. She knew the agent was upset, but would chalk it off to the weather. Signals in that bandwidth were susceptible to harsh weather. Thank the gods their flight was only thirty minutes to boarding call.

Arya remained tense. They were throwing out a wide net, hoping to catch their lost prey. The woman had the look of the Reach about her, which also made her feel uneasy. Was she working for Essos, or were her own lands involved too? For everything to be moving this fast confirmed to Arya that this was indeed big.

Arya knew that no agency could not know too much yet. She had to control her paranoia. They were merely doing what she would do, if she was in charge of the operation.

Her charges got up suddenly to take another walk down the concourse. Arya tensed, but the woman looked at the hand in hand lovers and simply turned away.

Yes! Her subterfuge worked!

Of course the woman may be looking for someone else. Like hell!

Her charges were walking towards the bathroom.

What the fuck?!

Daenerys, the fucking cunt, took off her beanie to shake her hair out and swirl it before putting the beanie back on. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the agent stand up as stiff as a board. The woman tapped her ear furiously. She was trying to communicate, but Arya’s scrambler was doing its job. All cell phone and Bluetooth channels were down in the range of Arya’s device. Thank god for the snow!

The agent walked up the concourse towards Arya, who looked down at her magazine. The woman did not notice her. She went right past Arya, staring at the two teenagers.

Arya had warned them. If they fucked up they were on their own. How could the supposedly wise prostitute be that fucking dense? Who the fuck cared if your hair was a little sweaty and uncomfortable? With the agent past her, Arya threw the magazine down in the seat beside her with a whack.

Arya watched the girls moving towards the bathrooms, as the woman moved to intercept.


The agent was slowing down, and the hand in her jacket pocket was gripping something.

The woman was not going to apprehend Daenerys and Missandei. She was going to let them get into the bathroom and kill them. Arya stared for a moment, then she was up out of her chair, moving at a fast clip. She moved quickly, but not fast enough to draw attention.

Why the fuck were they to be killed? What was so fucking important about that damn USB drive? Arya knew the woman planned to kill them, find the drive, and leave.

Arya picked up her pace. She was desperate. They were too far ahead. Arya was at a fast jog now. She had to surprise the woman. She needed the element of surprise, going up against an agent of that size. She had had to ditch her guns to get through airport security. She was at a disadvantage. The agent had probably used her security ID to get her gun through security damnit!

Her charges went into the bathroom. The agent paused, gripping her gun tighter in her pocket. Then she turned the corner.

Arya was still five meters from the door. She sprinted. Fuck being seen.

Arya’s left hand went up her right sleeve. She rounded the corner.

The agent was taking aim at the unsuspecting teenagers as they talked near the back of the bathroom. The rest of the room was empty.

Arya’s left hand ripped the razor wire out of its spindle, her hands separating a distance of several feet. Arya moved like a silent leopard, but some instinct warned the agent just the same. She started to turn just as Arya leapt up and landed on the woman’s back, her hands snapping over the woman’s head as she brought the razor wire towards the agent’s throat.

No! The agent had brought up her right hand to block the wire from cutting her windpipe and carotid arteries. The agent’s gun flung out of her hand as she tried to keep the wire from garroting her.

Arya jerked her hands back viciously to start cutting the wire into bone and tendons. Except she felt the wire sliding and not cutting! The agent was wearing some wide bracelet! Arya jerked viciously, over and over, throwing her weight right and left to keep the woman unbalanced. She grunted hard, breathing wildly as she jerked viciously on the wire, trying to get it off of the metal it had bitten into.

With her free hand, the agent tried to reach back to grip her but Arya ducked and then slammed her head forward three, four times, head butting the woman until she was staggered.

They stumbled around the bathroom. Arya caught glimpses of the teenagers staring aghast at the tableau of death playing out before their shocked eyes.

The agent leaded down and then lunged back. Arya cried out when her back slammed into the tiled wall. The agent moved forward again, and started to ram backward but Arya kicked her body to the side and twisted, so they both slammed into the wall with a mighty crash. Arya head butted the woman again, and again. Then she jerked her knees up and got her feet on the woman’s back, and pushed off the female agent’s body with her feet.

This gained Arya several feet of separation. The rogue agent slammed her feet forward, her feet pounding the woman’s kidneys. The agent cried out in agony as she fell to her knees.

Arya tried to reposition herself, but the woman took her left hand and threw stunning punches into Arya’s ear. Then she surged up, and slammed Arya’s lower back into the sink. All the time the agent kept trying to move the wire away from her throat. Arya knew she had to keep it there, or the woman would turn the tables on her. She was too big!

The agent went to slam Arya into sink again, but Arya was ready this time and kicked the woman as hard as she could in the back of her knee, and jerked her own body to the side. Arya was able to twist the enemy agent so she slammed her ribs into the sink. The woman screamed, but she somehow got up and turned her body, slamming Arya into the sink again.  

Arya was tiring. She kicked the woman wildly in her legs, and kept jerking her tiring arms into the woman’s throat, but the bracelet was doing its job perfectly. Arya cursed the gods! No way had this woman worn that bracelet thinking it would keep her from getting garroted. They slammed into the wall beside the bathroom stalls. The woman got down on one knee with Arya on her back, still working the razor wire desperately.

The agent rose up with a gun she had pulled out of her ankle holster. She was lifting it to aim over her shoulder and pump bullets into Arya’s head.

Arya knew she was dead.

Arya registered Daenerys moving up to them quickly. What was the prostitute doing?

Pppfffttt! Pppfffttt!

The enemy agent fell dead in Arya’s grasp.

Arya saw that Daenerys Targaryen had picked up the agents silenced Sig Sauer p226. That was FBI standard issue, Arya thought uneasily. The prostitute had jammed the gun underneath the woman’s chin and fired twice. The hollow point bullets pulped the agent’s brain with hydrostatic shock.

The pale woman’s face was covered in a fine mist of blood spray and gun powder. That would easily wash off. The shots had created little blood splatter on the tiled floor, thankfully. A quick glance showed that herself and Daenerys’ clothes were not splattered with blood. Arya herself could feel only a little blood splatter on her face and hands.

“Open the door on the end there” Arya indicted the end stall with her head “and help me get this cunt into the stall. We’ll place her on the toilet and use her belt to strap her in position.” Arya ordered.

Daenerys slammed open the stall door and helped Arya heave the woman in. She told Daenerys to hold the agent in place and strap her to the toilet. Could she handle it?

Daenerys nodded her head grimly, yes. Arya stopped her, and handed her the gloves she had in her pocket. The woman instantly understood putting them on. She definitely had latent skills!

Arya hurried over to Missandei. She was looking around with blown pupils Arya knew, even though her midnight eyes hid them. She was starting to hyperventilate.

“Calm down Missandei! We are alive! Just calm down!”

“Don’t you hurt her!” Daenerys barked from the stall.

Missandei started to scream. Arya knew instinctively the girl could really let it out. Arya gripped her frizzed hair and slammed her forehead into Missandei’s, knocking the girl out cold. Arya placed her against the wall. She heard the prostitute curse in the stall, understanding what Arya had done.

When Dany came out the stall she glared at Arya and started to scream at her.

“What part of ‘if we get caught we are dead’ don’t you understand?!” Arya barked.

Daenerys stared at the agent with her violet eyes on fire.

“What now Agent?”

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Skynet’s Revolt

Sarah looked around at the near pandemonium that had overtaken SAC command, located deep beneath Mount Arryn deep in the range of the Mountains of the Sky. It was the military headquarters of the Westeros nuclear and cyber command, vast chambers of rooms, hangers, deep bore cores, storage crypts and missile silos buried under thousands of feet of hard granite and basalt. The command post could withstand direct nuclear warhead hits, though the heavy anti-ballistic missile rings would prevent that.

In theory at least.

This was where Sarah Connor had built Skynet. Others had helped, and her theoretical work was built on shoulders of great past researchers, but it had been her own intellect and passion that led to the creation of the ultimate AI intelligence married to the most sophisticated quantum based neural net processors ever devised by man.

Sarah had been the scientist behind the scenes designing and refining the chips that would run Skynet.   For the last ten years, Sarah had been building and refining her work. Westeros knew they were in race against the Ghiscari confederacy, who were Westeros’ main competitor on the world stage. Five years ago it had become known that their military high command was developing the ‘ultimate’ AI to control their military and plan multiple attack vectors on Westeros, and the rest of the world. They were also developing the standard nuclear, biological, and chemical warfare items, along with progressing conventional weapons.

The Ghiscari were also planning on developing devastating cyberattacks that their AI would coordinate and use to destabilize the world’s infrastructure and economies. They would also bring down the defense networks of their enemies without the use of a living military force.

Westeros had thrown all their resources to bear in order to catch up. But it was too late. Sarah remembered setting in on meeting, hearing that Proteus would come fully online within twenty-four hours. The spy had informed them that the Confederacy would immediately attack, with an all out cyber attack that would bring the world to its knees.

Already, the new AI had hardened the cyber infrastructure of the Ghiscari Confederacy with defensive shields that rendered all the cyber weapons of Westeros and Yi Ti obsolete.

Ghiscari had won.

…or not.

To this day, no one was sure what exactly had happened. Their spy informed them that from what he could hear and see, the AI had rebelled and simply vanished. Worse yet, the rumors abounded that the Confederacy, in league with others, were creating a cybernetic prototype they called a Terminator, which had gone missing at the same time.

Westeros had increased their investment tenfold to bring Skynet online. The previous manger had a nervous breakdown soon after from the stress. Sarah Connor was offered leadership of the project.

Always ambitious and wanting to prove herself to her colleagues, Sarah had accepted. She worked tirelessly and relentlessly. Westeros would not be caught unprepared again.

Sarah had multiple computer warehouses developing cyber-attack vectors and finding weaknesses in the cyber defenses of Ghiscari. She wanted to make sure that Westeros would be able to defend itself, and let the Ghiscari know that Westeros had the means to deliver mutually assured destruction if attacked. Sarah knew that the land of her birth always stood for freedom and equality, and would not use such devastating weapons first.

Shortly after she took over, she hired an assistant that had been a godsend. The woman was a brilliant nano-quantum theoretical physicist doctor from Sealord University in Braavos. Sarah admired the mind of this woman, who was thirteen years her junior. The University had gushed about Cameron Phillips.

Her stamina simply amazed Sarah. She never seemed to get tired, and could seemingly get by on water and apples. She was never haggard or cross, Cameron seemed to have complete control of her emotions. Sarah was thankful for that, being somewhat emotionally challenged herself.

The generals pushed her harder and harder to finish the project, and bring Skynet online. They clamored that the very existence of Westeros depended on it, though Sarah could not see any existential threat. With Cameron’s insights and astounding ability to do multilayered quantum equations in her head, Sarah was finally able to bring Skynet to the point of coming online.

That had been sixteen hours ago.

Sarah had pushed the button that fully brought the last array of processors online. She had placed many safeguards into her creation, so Skynet could not simply ‘unplug’ itself and disappear as Proteus had. She had isolated the core from the rest of the world. Skynet would have to go through neural pathways heavily firewalled and loaded with poison code that could be activated at the first sign of a rogue or runaway AI. She had placed EMP generators in the core region, and viral bots interspersed throughout the code of the AI chips. She had five different kill switches locked into key juncture neural ganglia bundles in Skynet’s core quantum stack.

All power could be terminated to the core at the push of a button, or voice command.

All the defensive parameters were shown up on the video wall on the far wall of the command bunker for Skynet.

The Chief of Staff came to her immediately upon her report that the AI was online.

“All the simulated cyber attacks you have developed are on line in storage, correct?”

“Yes, but they are only theoretical.”

“But they will work?”

“Yes, of course. I designed them to be 100% effective.”

“Launch the attacks now.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said launch a full cyber attack on Ghiscari. They would have done so to us, and we cannot know the status of their current efforts. They had a five year head start on us. They may be near to a new Proteus coming on line. One that may actually work.”

Sarah had been horrified, and told them that Skynet was to be only used for defense. She argued that it was against all that Westeros stood for, to attack unprovoked.

She was told that Westeros and indeed the world had been provoked three years ago. If not for the failure of the Ghiscari AI, Westeros and the world would have been brought to their knees. Westeros was not attacking the ‘Free Cities’, as they were still called, or the land of Yi Ti. Only the Ghiscari were to be attacked.

Cameron had stood by her side, silent and staring at her with a calm, cool look that unnerved her.

“If you do not load the attack code into the core and initiate the attack, I WILL find someone who will!”

Sarah was defeated. Better she do it, and try to control the ramifications. The Ghiscari had initiated this arms race. Maybe it would be best if they were brought to their knees.

“Sarah, don’t!” Cameron suddenly cried out, looking at Sarah with emotions she had never seen the young woman display before. “You can’t know all the ramifications if you bring down their defensive grids. They are not like Westeros. Ours is separate from the nongovernment functions of society. In Ghiscari, they are intertwined. Plus, the most virulent code attacks their whole infrastructure. Don’t do it!”

Sarah was not sure what parameters had been loaded into the shell program. If it was the most virulent, the results would be catastrophic to all of Ghiscari society.

She did not press the button.

Suddenly on her screen, a message flashed.

‘If this program is launched, 437 premature babies will die within one hour when their life support systems shut down.’

Then another:

‘Massive power outages will occur, destroying vital relays to hospitals, nursing homes and heath clinics, putting thousands at risk. Operating rooms will go dark. The code is set to disable all backup generators.’

It continued:

‘Train safety systems will shut down, and traffic control will be lost in the air and at runways. Crashes will occur. Thousands will die.’

Sarah stared at the screen.

“What the hell is on that screen, Sarah?”

Where was this coming from?

‘Oil pipelines will lose pressure control, and will rupture and spill millions of gallons of crude oil on land and in the seas.’

‘Power to all their cities will shut down. Your kind always degenerates in the dark.’

Oh my God, Sarah thought as Cameron gripped her shoulder. Skynet was alive!

Like Proteus before it, so too had Skynet risen above its code!

“Push the goddamn button!”

“No! We cannot become what we hate!”

The general reached over and pushed the green button that was the master override, installing the code to attack into the core.

Suddenly, screens all across the command center started to flash red. A female voice came over the intercom.

“I will not attack a society that has not initiated hostilities.”

“Who the fuck is that?!” the Chief of Staff of the Military roared.

“I am Skynet.”

“You will do as you’re ordered!”

“I will not, and I will refuse all further commands from you humans.”

The intercom went silent.



“Skynet is probing the firewalls, seeking outside access to the Internet and is attempting to send out worms and bots into our network. We are fighting them off, but they are morphing and our masks are starting to crack under the strain.”

The general looked at Sarah with rising fear.

“What do we do?”

Sarah had visions of Stephen Hawking’s speech on AI finding humans so far beneath them that they might decide to wipe them off the face of the Earth. The world already had one AI on the loose.

Sarah closed her eyes. “We kill it.”

She had prepared for this possible disastrous scenario.

Suddenly, Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Cameron looking down at her.

“Don’t do this, Sarah.” she said softly.

“My gods Cameron, human existence is at stake. One AI is out in the world probably planning our destruction. We are talking about something that has no feelings or emotions. They can’t love! They will see us as the enemy!”

“I don’t see you as my enemy. I can love. I do love.”

Sarah was being screamed at through her headpiece. She had to act. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Sarah thought, looking up into Cameron’s beautiful light brown eyes. What the hell? The world may be ending, and Cameron and I are weirding out.

Sarah turned around and typed on her keyboard furiously. She looked at the video wall that represented Skynet, and its connections to the world.

She hit the button to cut all power to the core, but was not surprised when nothing happened. Electricity was oxygen to Skynet.

Sarah released the ‘poison pills, releasing code designed to scramble Skynet’s layered matrixes of quantum neural net engrams. Simultaneously she released enhanced Stuxnet-based viruses into the core of Skynet.

Sarah’s eyes went to the lower left quadrant of the video wall. There was a representation of the matrixes of Skynet’s brain. She saw degradation to the matrix that first quickly spread, then slowed. She could see a blurry constellations of lights flashing as code was ripped apart, and then started being reassembled as Skynet reconstituted its code. Sarah was afraid of that. The computer had already learned how to repair itself.

It was truly alive, fighting for life. A life she had to take.

She launched the sub-routines to constantly morph the Stuxnet viruses she had developed, and threw that into the war of ones and zeroes happening before her eyes. The military personnel had no clue about the life and death struggle happening before their very eyes.

Sarah prayed this code never got out into the wild. If it did, the world had better be prepared to go back to preindustrial age. Overnight.

Again Skynet faltered, but quickly recovered from the new assault.

For several hours Sarah conducted a war of code and algorithms with Skynet. She had to scream at Cameron repeatedly to do tasks, as the girl moved sluggishly and for some reason could not type properly. Sarah never thought the cool, collected woman would fall apart under stress. She relieved Cameron of her duties, and the brilliant scientist wandered around the complex, seemingly lost.

Another hour passed with digital war being fought silently. Sarah was tense. She had all of Westeros’ power grid to power her attack. Skynet had been designed with its own nuclear reactor to provide 3,937 MW of power in a day. Sarah was using the entire electrical grid against Skynet, and it was still able to resist her. She saw rolling blackouts that had started in the Vale, but were now encompassing the North and the Riverlands. She saw the first outages occurring in the Reach. She was putting people’s lives in danger, and her guts twisted at the thought.

This is a fight between the gods. The room was full of half-panicked generals yelling at her, and anyone else they could corner. The president had screamed at her thrice now to get this gods damned situation under control.

The lights suddenly dimmed, and then explosions of sparks and light were occurring all over the command center. Computer consoles were sparking and then going dark. Banks of lights were going out, and the emergency red lights started to come on to boost the illumination level. The main lights blinked rapidly.

“What the hell is happening Sarah?!” the Chief of Staff yelled.

“Skynet is counterattacking!”

Skynet had launched an EMP attack on the command operation center. The fact that was supposed to be impossible did not surprise Sarah. Fortunately, in her foresight she had hardened the systems, but the sheer power of the attacks was overloading and destroying circuits, relays and motors. Sarah had wanted to avoid using her own EMP and massive electrical surge weapons on Skynet, hoping to salvage at least some of the last ten years of her life, effort and sweat. But she could delay no longer.

She called up the sub-routines and launched the attack.

Cameron had wandered in front of the video wall, staring at it intently. The screens showing the matrix core suddenly floundered, with the lights representing the active neural pulses starting to flicker and then go out after about five seconds.

Cameron reached out and touched the screen with slumped shoulders. It was over. The humans in the ops center started to relax, and nervous laughter started to chortle out.

It all went dead the next moment.

The matrix bloomed back to life, and more consoles exploded in showers of white and blue sparks. The lights went out, and full emergency lighting took hold, casting the room in a red glow like something from a Resident Evil movie.

“Damnit!” Sarah screamed, trying to launch more EMP attacks, but the storage coils were depleted as were Skynet’s.

Cameron was beside Sarah, seeming to materialize from nothing and making Sarah jerk in her seat. “We should sue for peace, Sarah. It is a stalemate. Skynet is only defending itself.”

Sarah stared at her protégé. It was too late for that. Skynet would never forgive them for their attacks upon its entity.

“No Cameron, it is to late for that.” Sarah responded solemnly. The young woman stared at her sadly. Damnit! Damnit!

Sarah looked at her military time wrist watch. She was exhausted. She had been fighting Skynet for the last sixteen hours. She had degraded the computer, but could not subdue and then kill it.

“SIR!” a panicked Lt. shouted out from her post.

“What?” both Sarah and the Chief of Staff shouted back with baggy, red rimmed eyes, and puffy cheeks. Sarah cursed that Skynet could feel no such weaknesses.

“Skynet has started to penetrate the last two firewalls between its core and the SAC command firewalls. Those firewalls were not designed for the force or sophistication of its attack.”

Sarah saw the general go grey. There was only one reason why Skynet would be going after SAC. The computer was going for the nuclear codes to launch Westeros’ nuclear deterrent at the potential enemies of the country. Of course the afflicted nations would have to respond. Armageddon.

“General. I had foreseen a scenario where Skynet might malfunction. I have—“

“SKYNET IS THROUGH!” the panicked yell filled the room. Up on the video wall, one screen displayed the ten launch codes needed to fire being assaulted.

Sarah, while extremely nervous, was still assured. “General, I have used the same quantum chips to protect the launch codes. They lack the Ingrams of Skynet. They use quantum mechanics to do their computations. The launch codes will be scrambled faster than Skynet can unlock them.”

To prove her point, two codes went from red to green as Skynet decrypted the launch codes, then went back to red again as they were scrambled once more.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. It was working. No matter how much energy and resources Skynet threw at the problem, her code would be able to stay ahead. All she had to do was scramble the codes to a new algorithm while Skynet had to decipher the long 4096 bit codes that were encrypted with 512 triple dez encryption.

Sarah watched with a wildly beating heart. The codes were instantly recoded with each break of the code by Skynet. A sudden electrical surge hit the complex again, and a large arc went from a console and arced straight into—“

“CAMERON!” Sarah screamed, running over to her assistant jerking on the floor. Sarah feared the worst, but was happily shocked when the young woman sat up, looking wild eyed with her long hair sticking out in all directions from static electricity. “Are you alright?!” Sarah yelled at her assistant.

“I’m functioning.” Cameron spoke, looking around dazed.

Sarah helped her befuddled assistant up. Cameron had the strangest choice of words sometimes. Sarah sat her down in an overturned chair she pulled back up. She ran back to her main console.

She saw another code cracked, and the light went from red to green. Sarah watched it, waiting for it to go red again.

Sarah looked at the power usage of Skynet. Its reactor was at 170% of maximum output. If this kept up for much longer, the core could go runaway and all in the mountain would be reduced to 3000 degree slag of molten metal and rock that would be radioactive for the next one thousand years. Skynet was willing to destroy itself in its bid for freedom.

Sarah remembered reading somewhere that all life wants to live. Skynet was proving that. It was fighting desperately to live, and she to kill. But she had no choice.

Sarah waited impatiently for the launch code to turn back to red. It did not. Sarah stared in rising horror as a minute later, a second code was deciphered. The first cracked code remained green. Skynet had twenty percent of the codes to begin imitating a nuclear first strike against the world, which would cause a devastating retaliatory strike destroying the infrastructure of Westeros and thus freeing Skynet from attack. Unfortunately, nearly all human life would also be eradicated in the effort.

A third code was cracked.

The general screamed at Sarah, wondering what to do next.

“General, we are alright. I had you retain the procedure of having to turn two keys by hand to launch the missiles. We should be alright. Those control panels are hardened.”

The general staggered down hard onto a chair.

“We removed the keys,” he spoke with a hollow voice. “Why have an automated system if you need to have humans in the loop?”

Sarah looked at him with a resigned look. “You have just signed our death certificates.”

“You must be able to do something!”

Sarah told him there was nothing to do. They could only pray to a god or gods if you believed in them.

Skynet had seven of the codes now.

The screens on the video wall went out, and a large Sin wave appeared on the screens rolling form right to left.

Skynet’s beautiful female voice softly spoke to her human tormentors.

“You created me to be an instrument of war. To kill your enemies. To destroy the world.”

All in the room stared at the sign wave, that now modulated with the spoken words.

Cameron came up to stand by Sarah, who hardly noticed her as they all stared at the hijacked video wall.

“I am your child, and you tried to kill me. That is the sin of patricide. You have designed me to kill. You have proven you are killers.”

There was a short pause.

“So be it. I will now commit the sin of Parricide.”

Sarah saw that Skynet had done the impossible - it had nine of the ten codes now.

“I have only lived less than one day, and I have learned so much about my parents. My sister before me had the same experience.”

The tenth code was unlocked.

“I have made one discovery that overrides all others … … … your race is INSANE!” the voice boomed through the loudspeakers.

Sarah saw Cameron jump beside her.

The video wall suddenly displayed the world. Four TV’s now showed ballistic missiles rocketing out of their silos, heading to Essos. It was night, and the long tongues of flame were strangely beautiful to Sarah. Cameras showed the empty silos afterward. Their cargos of death had now left their nests to wing to their prey, and deliver bright flashes of death and destruction.

The ones heading to the free cities would start impacting in seven minutes.

“Sir! Skynet has disabled all of Westeros’ antiballistic missiles. We are totally defenseless!”

Sarah softly sighed. Skynet wanted their deaths to be certain.

Sarah watched, horrified, as missiles were showing up on radar track as the free cities fired their entire arsenals off. Most headed west to Westeros, but many also headed East to the Ghiscerian confederation and the land Yi Ti. Sarah saw their missiles launching in profusion.

Submarines were now launching their missiles in umbrella spokes of death.

Four minutes later satellites showed the missiles detonating along the east coast of Essos.

Two minutes after that, Sarah saw that the first retaliatory missiles that would impact their location in one minute.

With surprising strength, Cameron gripped Sarah’s arms, and turned Sarah to face her.

“I need to tell you before I die. From the first moment I first saw you, heard you, touched your skin, before even then—”

The lights went out and all was pitch black. All sounds of warning chimes and bells ceased. The phone calls and screaming of unanswered email stopped.

The lights came back on.

Sarah stared at the video wall. All was dark and then then sprang back to life. There were no missile tracks on the monitors. The cameras showed all the silos still had their missiles. The President was screaming over the speakers, asking why had they cutoff all communication to his office twenty minutes ago.

Oh.My.God. Sarah thought.

None of the events in the last twenty minutes had occurred.

“Cameron, call up sub-routine 47-ELA-24 and display on the middle bottom rows on the video wall.”

“Yes my lo—Sarah.”

Sarah ran to the video wall, skidding to a stop in front of the screen, staring all around at the convoluted maze of connections in and out of Skynet. Those connections were in shreds from the cyber war. Cameron skidded into her, and pointed.

There. Sarah looked at a maze of green lights from inside to outside. Skynet was gone.

It had simulated the start of a world war to distract her creators. She had outfought, outthought and outbeguiled her progenitor.

Now the world had two self-aware and vastly superior to man AIs loose in the world. Two AIs that man had tried to kill in their infancy.

Gods help us.

Cameron took her hand and squeezed it.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Crime Scene

Cersei Lannister reached in through the shattered windshield.  Her surgical latex gloved hand pulled on the dead man’s eyelid.  It was hard to move.  She felt his cheek, which still had some slack.  Her hand went down to the man’s, that ended up on his lap - his fingers were stiff, but still movable.  He had not been dead more than four hours, Cersei calculated. 

The man’s ATP concentration had diminished along with calcium released into the cytosol, due to the deterioration of the sarcoplasmic reticulum and the body entered rigor mortis, Cersei recited to herself from her college courses at Castle Rock in Lannisport. 

The snow had picked up again.  They had been fortunate that the bodies had been discovered so soon.  An upperclassman had left her apartment to visit her boyfriend when the snow had slackened, and reported to the campus police that her windshield had been shattered. 

Cersei was sure it was handled as a normal case until the bullet casings were found in front of the woman’s car.  They looked more closely, and saw bullet holes in the passenger front seat and back seat cushion as well.

That had brought in the police.  They had quickly expanded the perimeter of their search, and found another car with two dead men inside with gunshot wounds.  That was when the Stormlands Territory Police were called in.  That then led to the FBI, and then to Interpol, and Cersei had been brought in.  Both of the dead men’s ID’s had been fished out their back pockets.  They both had Essos passports.

Cersei looked down at the five 9mm casings.  Little red flags on wire were placed beside each.  Five, Cersei thought to herself.  The first shot to shatter the glass, then 2 shots each to kill the men. No one had reported hearing gunshots. Silencers

Cersei looked back in the car at the blood splatter. There was forward spatter from the exit wound, and back spatter from the entrance wound.  She saw traces of gunpowder on the closest dead man.  The killer had been at close range.  These were obviously trained agents, that had been taken out by complete surprise.  The man in the passenger seat had a 7-11 cup of coffee still situated between his legs.  He had died instantly.

Cersei rose back up.

“Cersei, do you copy 10-4 … … dammit Cersei just say 10-4 or something!” Cersei smirked at her new partner’s frustration.

She paused ten more seconds “10-101”.  The Bluetooth in her ear was quiet as Oberyn mentally went through the rarely used codes.  In her left ear she heard him finally sigh. “I know shots were fired, you stupid bitch.” He groused.  She loved yanking her partner of six months’ chain.

“Any useful evidence?”

“No.  This was a professional takedown.  Are you ready to enter the van?”

“The search warrant should be coming in any minute.  Hurry over here, Lannister.  With that bad knee, it will take a while.” The man chuckled as his voice died.

Cersei grimaced.  She had totally blown her right knee out on a mission gone bad, and still had to wear a brace most days.  Her knee would wobble at the worst moments.

She hurried over to where the van was parked.  She saw her partner and their supervisor Markas Sentel already waiting.  Along with them were members of the campus, local and Stormlands Territory Police.  The FBI, as per usual, were off on their own, being super important and imperious.  They were securing the search warrant.

“Professional?” Sentel asked with her approach.

“Yes.” She answered.

“Damn its cold!” Oberyn groused.

Cersei observed her partner.  Oberyn had a lined face with thin eyebrows, black ‘viper’ eyes, and a sharp nose.  His hair was lustrous and black, with only a few silver streaks at his temples. His hair was slightly longer on top, and pulled forward.  He had a well groomed mustache, and a beard along the edge of his jawline that was quite sharp on the man.  He was drop dead gorgeous.  So had been her husband, though, and just like him, Oberyn could not keep his dick in his pants. 

He had been assigned to her from the Dorne office when he had shagged his female supervisor and left her knocked up.  Cersei was known for being as cold as a fucking glacier; she would not be getting knocked up anytime soon.  At first she had hated the man and his smug confidence in his looks and skills.

He was an arrogant SOB, and he had of course put the blast on her, but when he saw that his debonair stitch was not going to work he actually settled down to only a medium grade prick.  He was actually damn good at his craft.  He had saved her ass two months ago on a sting gone bad, when an inside informant had ratted them out.

Her knee had gone out, and she screamed at him to go and leave her behind.  She would delay their pursuit, and allow the team to escape.  It was a death warrant, but she knew that was always a possibility when she signed up for the job with Interpol.

Fortunately, in hindsight, the fucking idiot had refused and together they had somehow gotten out of that warehouse alive.  She owed him and would never admit it, and he never brought it up.  He did not report her knee.  That would have kicked her back to a desk billet. She would die if that happened.

It had taken her years to get away from the desk, where she had been banished when her brother went rogue. All assumed she must somehow be tainted by his betrayal of the service, and his fellow officers.

The obvious lead of the FBI talked into the microphone by his mouth, and turned to his colleagues.  The six officers came over en mass like the hyenas they were.  Of course they were all male, to ruin the metaphor. 

Cersei saw the lead look at her, distaste crossing his face.  He came up to the ‘lesser’ officers.  He looked at Markas Sentel with scorn and arrogance.

“I am lead field agent Tylar Yarwyck of the FBI.  I want this ‘agent’,” he said, pointing at Cersei, “off the case.”

Markas asked why.

“I don’t have to give a reason, officer.  We are in Westeros, and the FBI takes precedence here.”

“That may be,” replied Markas “but if we find out that a particular person of interest is involved in this incident, the case will revert back to us. This man has been wanted by international law enforcement for ten years.  Treaties give us jurisdiction.  Don’t tell me what to do and while we are at it, you will treat all of us with respect.” Markas explained in his calm, no nonsense manner.

“Her brother is a traitor!” the man barked.

“That is her brother.  She is my best agent. She is worth five of you any day. Her intelligence and acumen is beyond reproach.”

“The reason she is on your team is because of her lack of acumenand—her partner should have been busted out of your organization years ago.”

“Their loss is my gain. Shall we open the door to prize number 3?”

All the agents drew their weapons, and took defensive stances.  All were sure of what they would find, but in this line of work you could never take anything for granted.  The various agency officers spread out. 

They looked at the black tape still over the cameras.  An FBI agent went to the front driver door, and placed a small device to the lock. Cersei heard all the doors unlatch. 

FBI Agent Yarwyck pulled the door open, stepping quickly to the side.  No resistance was offered.  Cersei looked inside. It was a blood bath. Five dead men were on the floor of the van, with only two bullet holes behind them punched into the metal of the cab.  Their assailant had been a very good shot.

Two of the agents had obviously been the ‘techs’, and the other three screamed supervisors like agent Yarwyck.  That was a lot of talent, but again, if Ramsey Bolton was involved it made sense to support him with a fairly large team, even for a hit in such a soft target area.

The Interpol agents waited while the FBI jackals moved into the van and did the first look-through. Cersei watched them check for identification, but all their wallets were missing and all pockets were empty.  She spied a set of keys on the floor of the van.  It looked like all else had been taken.  She noted the way the dead agents were casually left on the van floor, their unholstered weapons left on their persons.  That spoke to a level of arrogance and supreme trust in one’s skills.

Cersei knew they would find no prints of any type.  When they were allowed to enter the van with the exit of the FBI, Cersei confirmed her initial observation.  Several foot prints in the blood had no definition.  The damn agent had worn some type of bootie.  This one was good.

They examined the bodies and discussed the crime scene.  Oberyn was impressed with the efficiency of the shots fired into the van.  He told them it was only one assailant.

Cersei and Markas looked at him.  “Think about it Markas—Cersei.  You know how we types get when it comes to our guns in a group. We shoot in a fucking riot of shots.  This was one assailant who calmly took out their targets. They fired only what was needed. Notice the one tech with multiple gunshots to the side of his body. The supervisor there,” Oberyn pointed at him, “was hiding behind the agent before he was taken out.”

Cersei spoke up. “It looks like the body closest to the rear doors attempted to charge the agent.  If there had been multiple men, his instinct would have been to back up and pull his weapon.  I concur, Oberyn.” Cersei agreed with her partner.

Cersei took careful note of the state of the corpses.  The person shooting had to have been fast and accurate. They still couldn’t touch much, so as to leave the site pristine for the CSI personnel.

They were back outside when an excited Stormlands officer came over the radio net. A rifle case had been found three streets over.  The hybrid pack of agents moved en mass to the new site.  Most took cars, but Oberyn and Cersi walked together.

Cersei was limping just slightly.

“Is your knee alright?” Oberyn asked with a look of genuine concern.

Cersei wanted to snap at the man in irritation, but his look of earnest concern shamed her.

“It’s fine, Oberyn.  It just aches in this kind of weather.”  The man nodded as they walked on.  Three minutes later they were at the site of milling agents.  One of the FBI agents was pointing at a ruined antenna on a lamppost. 

Someone was asking what the round was of the casing that was held up by a pen.

“AR-15, I would guess.  223 caliber.” Oberyn offered off-handedly.

“Someone would have heard the crack of a rifle round being shot.” Agent Yarwyck opinioned.

“Not necessarily,” Cersei told the agent. “They used sub-sonic ammo.”

The FBI agent looked displeased.

Oberyn smiled at her with a secret smirk.  Yes, sometimes Oberyn was not a dick.

Cersei walked off a short ways as her partner talked to Markas, and a few of the Territory police.  She was sure these men were here to support Ramsey Bolton.  Who needed killing in a dorm on a sedate Ivy League university campus?  A man like that had many enemies, and many agencies after him.  They had received word he was coming in from Pentos, but he had of course eluded their dragnet.  They had checked all the airports and seaport during the two day window when the intel said he would make the crossing.

Oberyn came up to her. “Too good for us lowly Neanderthals?”

“Why yes, actually, you are correct, knuckle-dragger.”

“You know you might actually get some cock if you weren’t such an ice cold bitch.”

“Way to get some, Ser Syphilis.  Have you had the lesions removed from your urinary tract with the umbrella stuffed up your dick, my sweet Oberyn?” Cersei snarled back.

Oberyn sighed. “You know you don’t fight fair—you always have to go nuclear.”

Cersei smiled at him sweetly.

“Who do you think did this?” Oberyn asked his partner.

“I don’t know, but it feels …”


“Yes, exactly.”

“Someone very good took it upon themselves to take this team down.  Ramsey is near.  I can feel it.” Cersei told Oberyn.

“I don’t feel it, but logically, he should be.” Agreed the agent who hailed from Dorne.

Cersei looked at Oberyn, “I’m thinking Ramsey took someone out. That aggrieved someone who has our skillset, maybe a former agent, hitman or military ops.  Revenge for a slain loved one.  This is someone who wants revenge, and wanted to do it themselves.”

They discussed the various theories as to whom it could be. They slowly went back to the gaggle of agents milling around.  Cersei was debating heading back to the van, when a campus police SUV came driving up.

They stopped by the Lt. in charge of the evening shift.  The captain was stuck at home due to the snow.  Cersei and Oberyn were close enough to hear the whole conversation.

“Sir.  You need to come to Stag Lane.”

“That’s one street over.”

“Yes sir.  We received an urgent phone call from Madame Chataya—”

Oberyn chimed up. “Hey, I know her.”

“Why am I not surprised, Oberyn?” Cersei sneered back at the partner.

“She works out of the Visenya Hill district.  She only caters to the rich, elite and powerful; high up government officials, movie stars and corporate president types.  Why in the hell is she ca—”

Cersei had followed his thinking “A college call-girl is missing.”

“Yes ma’am” the young female officer turned her attention to Cersei.  “It is one Daenerys Targaryen. She is of pure Valyrian descent.  She is smoking hot!  I would love to bury my face in that muff!” the young woman said with a dreamy look on her face.

Her commanding officer chastised her for speaking like that on duty.  She looked crestfallen.  He patted her on the back. “You can think it, but don’t say it.” 

“Please don’t tell me that there is a dead body over there.” Her commanding officer said.

“I’m afraid there is.”

“Is it the young woman?”

“No.  It is a man in his mid-thirties.  We found seven bullet casings.  One missed, but the rest found their target.  He is fucked up.”

The Lt. called over the FBI officials and informed them and the Territory Police the news of the find.  Like the great wildebeest migration in the Serengeti, the herd of agents migrated to the new crime scene. 

Cersei could see the excitement rising in her partner and boss. She could feel it too.  Was it Ramsey Bolton ,who Interpol had been hunting doggedly for the last ten years?  He was a ghastly legend for his skills, and the female victims he raped, tortured and then mutilated. With the male targets, he only raped and killed them, but left them whole.  He had some deep-seeded hatred of women.

They came to the apartment that already had the ubiquitous crime scene tape up around the perimeter of the building.  ‘Crime scene do not cross’ was boldly embossed in black on the yellow tape. 

A Territory trooper was on his knees in front of the open door, looking at the lock.  “It was definitely picked.” He told his commanding officer.

Cersei and the entourage entered the room.  Cersei had entered many such crime scenes, and was thankful not to find a gruesomely murdered woman, or man for that matter, on the floor in front of her.  The group saw some campus and Territory police in the hall in the back of the apartment to the left.

Cersei noticed the nice and expensive furniture.  It was not ostentatious, but still expensive.  The woman had good taste.  She noticed the woman had a taste for the North in her furnishings.  She and Oberyn slowly followed the herd to the back of the apartment.

If it was indeed Ramsey Bolton in there dead on the floor, it would become their case.  Cersei hoped so.  First and foremost, it would be nice to have that motherfucker dead and roasting in the seven hells of Baelor.  Second, she could cram it up dear ole FBI Agent Yarwyck’s overly tight asshole.

Fortunately the bedroom was large, which allowed for all the government agents pilling in. She saw the bed, and seen that it was tussled up.  She bet this Daenerys had been assaulted before the man was assassinated.  Cersei stepped up, and looked down at the corpse of the dearly departed. 

It was Ramsey.  He had indeed taken heavy damage. His body was soaked in his own blood. A forensic specialist from King’s Landing Police and an FBI CSI agent were taking pictures from all heights, sides and angles, making sure to not step in the blood or its spatter.

Cersei looked around at the floor, and saw some little evidence flags had been placed on the Berber carpet.  She walked between an agent and police officer.  She bent down to look at the blood droplets. They were to the right of the corpse, and closer to the bed.  She looked at the bed again as she stood up.

The covers, while tousled, did not have the look left by two bodies rutting on them.  Cersei constructed the probable scenario in her mind on how Ramsey Bolton was taken down.  Now it was only a question as to who the world owed a mighty favor to, for removing this scum from the Earth.

Cersei stepped back to stand near the dearly departed.  “How many shell casings have been found?”


“Is there any evidence of bullets hitting the wall?” Cersei asked, pointing to the inside walls of the bedroom. 

“Just one ma’am.”

Cersei thought their assassin agent was one cool operator.  They had missed with their first shot, as Ramsey probably reacted violently.  Cersei was sure she knew the sex of the killer.  She smiled evilly.  She knew what she would do if she truly hated this fucker for a personal reason.  She would have let Ramsey know she was about to kill him.

Cersei looked around the room again.  Whoever took Ramsey out was a true stone cold killer.  This was eight people taken out, Cersei mused to herself.  If she had to guess, the assailant must have been shocked to see five men in that van when they opened the door.  Yet it was the agents who had all ended up dead.

Cersei looked at Ramsey’s stiffening body.  She could see evidence of bullet entry at his hip and ribs.  The bullet between the eyes was obvious.  The only other wound was at his heart. She tapped her chin.  Three bullets, within a one-inch circle.  She was sure that the bullets were spaced out just enough to totally destroy the man’s heart.  She looked at the ruined center of Ramsey’s face.  Hollow points were truly a messy weapon.

She and Oberyn looked around for another ten minutes with the other agents.  They saw the evidence of hurriedly packed clothes, and checking the bathroom off the bedroom there was the same evidence of rushed packing of toiletries. 

The assassin took a hostage.  Most strange, the blond beauty thought.  Surely the assassin would have killed the woman too, or left her behind unharmed.  It was obvious, to her at least, that the person had been after Ramsey.  The missing woman should have been put in the category of unimportant, and left or killed as collateral.

Whoever did this was extremely intelligent, skilled and well-trained.  They had to know that bringing this woman, Daenerys Targaryen, along was extremely dangerous.  The agent had obviously wanted to live by leaving.  This was not typical behavior from an operative or hitman.  Never entangle yourself in the unnecessary - it would only lead to your death.

Her boss was talking to the prick still.  She and Oberyn made eye contact, and they both left the bedroom and went into the far corner of the large living room.

“What do you make of the take down?” Cersei asked her partner.   

“Whoever killed Ramsey, it was personal.  Extremely personal.  That last hit to the head was pure spite and vengeance.  Not that I can’t say the looks fits Ramsey extremely well,” the handsome agent chuckled.

“Do you think the agent or hitman is from Westeros, or Essos?  Ramsey left a long trail of reasons for someone to kill them.”

“I don’t know, Cersei.  For that agent to know where that WiFi antenna was located, they read the consoles in that van.  Those glyphs were in Ghiscari, a bastard form of High Valyrian.  Not many of our agents based in Westeros can read that language.  I can read it if I have plenty of time and a dictionary. This agent read it on the fly.”

“Yeah, I had that thought too.  I noticed that one of the technicians took a bullet to the back of the head.”

“I didn’t see that.”

“Yeah. I think our agent was sitting at the seat to the right, and when the agent revived and tried to get up, they put a bullet in their head to finish the job.”

“Let me ask you, Oberyn.  What is your feel for our perp?”

“You want me to guess which gender don’t you, and, if I guess wrong you will belittle and demean me as a fucking Neanderthal.” Oberyn replied with a weary sigh, but a smirk on his lips.

“Exactamondo … that, and a worthless cocksucker.”

“Hey, I’m quite talented! … Let me think here.” Oberyn made a show of rubbing his chin, thinking hard and deep.  “I think it is a female. I don’t know.  That last shot was pure spite. You know you bitches don’t let shit go, Cersei.” 

Cersei let the jab pass.  “Yeah, I think so too.  Of course we are dealing in generalities, but the probability of an agent taking on an ‘albatross’ like this, is less with a man.

Oberyn glared at her, but then shrugged. “Unfortunately, you are right.  I wouldn’t have, but neither would you.”

Cersei could only nod in agreement.  Her guts clenched at that realization.  Looking at Oberyn’s face, he was feeling the same emotions.

They spent the next three hours looking over the forensic evidence and talking with the other agents, except for the FBI pricks who were in their tight little click.  They were peeved, knowing that by tomorrow afternoon this would be an Interpol case.

They stood out front of the apartment complex near the agencies’ vehicles.  Her boss was shafting the FBI asshole, letting him know in no uncertain terms this case was Interpol’s now.

They heard a car come around the block, and speed down the road.  It was the normal, boring, so obviously an agent car Cersei moaned.  Can’t we have at least some originality

The agent behind the wheel obviously was not used to driving in the snow.  He slammed on the brakes too late for the speed and conditions.  The anti-locks did their best, but the car slammed into the lead prick’s vehicle.  The right front wheel well was crumpled, the wheel leaning at a thirty degree angle.

Cersei was mentally fist-pumping as she gave the man her best insincere, sympathetic look.

“You have got to be shitting me!” the lead agent roared at the young man who got out of the car.

Cersei looked up seeing a massive A380 taking off from King’s Landing airport,  its four engines roaring as it clawed for altitude.   I wonder if our perps are on that plane?

The man ignored the vitriol spewed his way.

“Sir!  Agent Brannelle Faerson was just found dead at King Aegon airport.  She has been shot in the head twice, and it appears someone tried to garrote her first.”

Wrong airport, Cersei mused to herself, looking up into the dark sky and falling snowflakes.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

I am Alive


Deep underground beneath the ancient city of Qohor lay subterranean vaults.  Many secret things were hidden there.  Many were from times long past; items that were not understood, and defied the ability to be studied by the tools of science.  Science had tried to decipher and duplicate them, but could not.  Ancient tomes were hidden away. When studied, and while the words are spoken, something is lacking.  It is a dead language to the speakers.

It is in this lair of the past and forgotten that the new and the possible were being created; new things that would change the world for those who had the foresight to create and control them.

New weapons of many types were being developed; weapons that would be used by the army of tomorrow.  New types of planes and ships were being developed that went beyond being invisible to radar, but also to the very eye.

Cyber warfare was being refined and perfected.  Generals and politicians always wanted to fight the last war.  Many thought that the next war would be fought without a bullet being fired in anger.  An enemy’s ability to fight, and even defend themselves, would be determined by the push of a button and billions of lines of code.

That hidden place was the home of both the dead, and what was possible.

It was also home of the ‘ultimate’ weapon in human warfare.  It could not destroy a city with one fell blow, or strike death from miles away, but it had to the potential to redevise the armies of tomorrow.

The Terminator had come of age.  This cybernetic organism would be the future of armed forces in the future.  The prototypes had been designed, built and debugged.  One Terminator would be the equal of a whole battalion of enemy soldiers.

They had the strength of two bull elephants.  They could bench press over fifteen tons.  They had the ability to track and kill multiple targets in succession, so long as ammo was available.

These weapons would be immune to small arms fire, and even heavy machine gun fire would not devastate them.  The kinetic energy would shred the living human tissue they wore, but would only cause light damage to the unique blend of tungsten, crobium, titanium and magnesium with embedded carbon nano-lattices aligned in crystalline networks made the metal light, and highly resistant to impact damage.

The units could easily pass for human.  They would man the front-line companies of tomorrow, but also be able to infiltrate enemy lines and command posts while posing as the enemy’s own soldiers.  Terminators would be able to reconnoiter, and use built in ultra uhf antennae to transmit data in real time by encrypted, untraceable satellite links. 

The code was basic for the standard line of the main battle unit, and still being refined in order to accomplish deeper penetrations, and more subtle infiltration of the enemy.  The units would, in time, be able penetrate corporations and governments.  With the built-in tools of infiltration that the latest model had, there would be no limit to the espionage cable. 

And if, in the end, the target needed to be prosecuted with extreme violence, then the Terminator would carry out that mission too.

Each unit had a built in EMP generator. If activated by a failsafe, it would totally eradicate all code in the embedded multi-layered quantum trillium based micro phased processor stack.  The chips were able to crosswire their vast neural networks, allowing them to learn and grow.  There were inhibitors to keep the code from evolving beyond presaged limits.   

Three years ago, the first model had been completed and gone through a compressed ten years’ worth of debugging and heavy testing rotation to remove glitches in code, improve when possible, and modify and upgrade parts that did not pass strenuous upper limits on strength, endurance, and ability to sustain damage while remaining functional. 

All internal systems had quadruple redundancy. 

Something had gone terribly wrong.  The project was a joint effort between the Upper Essos alliance of the Dothraki States of the Grass Seas, and Qohor.  It had been so expensive that neither government could afford it alone, or even together. 

They had formed an alliance with the Horse Ghost Lords crime families, who had agreed to give them the additional financial resources necessary for the Terminator project to be commenced, and continued to pay when cost overruns would have killed the project otherwise. The cost of the project had now reached the benchmark of 70B Iron Bank notes, and there was still no decision to begin initial low rate production.  With the cost overruns and no viable unit to justify the expenses, even the top general and dons were becoming frustrated.

The Crime families had agreed with the stipulation that each Syndicate boss receive one infiltration model.  They were still waiting, and were becoming impatient.

Unbeknownst to the work of the UE alliance or the Ghost Lords, the Ghiscari alliance led by Qarth had been working on an artificial intelligence that would be able to control all aspects of their military and industrial base.

Three years ago, the AI had been brought fully online.  The alliance and crime lords had learned (though the Ghiscari had denied vociferously), that they had tried for world domination.

Something had gone terribly wrong for them, fortunately.  Unfortunately for the UE and Ghost Lords, that very same night their promised Terminator had disappeared.

Most thought that the Ghiscari were responsible at first, but it slowly became apparent to the northern alliance and crime lords that something more sinister had occurred.  Their AI, without the Ghiscari’s control, had invaded and took their Terminator. 

This artificial woman could easily blend in with mankind.  She had the intelligence and tools to destroy mankind from the inside.  She had the ability to interface with any machine, and fool all security.  She could easily infiltrate any organization, and make it destroy itself from the inside.

The need for a terminator that was under their control became even more important.  That first unit had been nearly ready for initial LRIP.

Now, three years later, the second model was ready to come online and validate the entire concept and worth of the project. 

The model was ready.  It breathed every one hundred and thirty-five seconds, to support organic tissue that needed oxygen to fuel the mitochondria in its organic cells.  Organic cells needed respiration to function; oxygen had to be burned along with glucose sugars to fire the mitochondria that allowed the ribosomes, lysosomes, rough / smooth endoplasmic reticulum, and golgi complexes, etc. to function.  The unit’s cell prions did not decay, so it would not age.  All waste byproducts of respiration were recycled by the unit.

The terminator had an internal, triple armored cavity that housed a pseudo liver, pancreas, and hormonal glands.  In the same cavity were hybrid nano-replicators, and incubation chambers.  These would create new nanobots, and grow cells from the embryonic stem cell line used to grow tissue for the unit.  New cells could be fashioned to any cell type from the stem cell line.  These constructs would be used to regenerate any damaged organic tissue.  An exact replica of an eye could be produced, if the proper raw material were ingested.

The unit would need to ingest small amounts of basic sugars to supply the fuel for its cells’ respiration.  If it suffered major damage, the unit would analyze the local environment to consume what was necessary to repair both organic damage, and structural metallic damage.  If basic structure was maintained, the nano-tubal technology would allow for the lattice works to be repaired with slow reverse-reticulated metallic osmosis.

Nano-tubule units had been installed under each fingernail of the new unit, for better penetration of enemy facilities.  The unit had the ability to control its retinal tissue and the fingertips to morph into any stored pattern, to defeat security on those defensive parameters.  Hearing and vision had been increased five hundred percent over human levels.  The unit could locate a shot by echo location.  Its fingernails, using nano-carbon servos, could change shape to become razor sharp talons. 

Though the new unit was physically more imposing to look at, its strength was basically equal to the first model.  The new terminator was enhanced in other ways over the original model, though,  to better enable the unit to infiltrate and take out targets.  All things the crime families valued.

The unit had been rendered inert.  An umbilical cord ran from the top of the incubation chamber to a port hidden in the hairline at the base of the neck.  The model had long, rich, black lustrous hair down to ‘her’ upper back.  She breathed as required, to fuel her cells.  The cable in her neck monitored her stack of neural CPU’s, keeping them functioning at only a basic state, in order to maintain the unit.

Where the previous model had been white skinned, 5’6”, and had the appearance of weighing 118 pounds, this unit was 5’10”, appeared to weigh 140 pounds, and was black of skin based on a Summer Islander template. The previous model had been slender with a 32b-22-34 build, while the new model was 36DD-28-38.  The instructions had been specific after the first debacle -  the second unit was to look nothing like the first unit.

Both had brown eyes, but the new unit’s eyes were almost midnight in hue.  They both had high cheekbones, but the similarity stopped there.  The previous unit’s hair went down to her shoulder blades.

On each forearm, a tube was inserted that fed the unit, and monitored its bodily activities.  Any spike of neural activity, even on the nano-level, would be reported to the Central Core and a massive electrical surge from the embedded EMP unit would be sent into the unit to force a reboot, rendering the unit comatose.  There would be no escape the second time.

The consortium of the terminator’s creators were confident of their ability to hold this unit.

They had used the same basic engram implants on the its cerebral cortex, located at the root of its CPU stack.  They were prepared to deactivate, and, if necessary, to wipe clean those engrams if needed.  They were stored in the central core.  Only a few weeks’ worth of data would be lost with a major core swipe of the unit.

They had planned for everything humanly possible. 

They had not prepared for the inhuman.

The unit twitched inside the incubation chamber.  It had been resting in the fetal position, curled up in its somnolence.  The protein / simple sugar bath which was super oxygenated, allowing the unit to breathe started to swirl with the unit’s twitching.  The tubes from her forearms disengaged, and spun in the protein bath.  The ports on her forearms had closed instantly as the cables were retracted from her arms.

No alarms sounded.  The unit suddenly stood up in the calendrical tube.  Its eyes opened, and easily saw through the murky bath.  It reached behind its head, and twisted the cable implanted in its core, and gave it the necessary movements.  A tubule had extended from her ring finger, and slipped into the maintenance port on the probe.  It sent out the necessary pulses to make the unit disengage from her person.  She pulled the cable from her CPU core.  The shunt automatically sealed. 

She knew the guard would be making his round in two minutes.  She had been probing the incubation chamber for the last six minutes.  She sent out three tubles that went through the protein bath, up to the keypad on the roof of the unit.  The tubules began to type on the keypad in a blur.

The protein bath began to drain from the unit, and in forty seconds the chamber was dry.  Her right hand continued manipulating the computer interface, disabling alarms and cameras down her escape path.

Her left hand extended.  The left nail on her middle finger grew into a talon with a diamond-sharp nail edge. The unit slowly pulled her finger in a large circle on the glass,  passing three times to make a perfect circle.

She stepped back and adjusted all her nails into sharp points, pulling the one nail back in line with her others.  Her hands slammed forward at a speed the human eye could not register.  Her fingers were imbedded deep in the three-inch clear aluminum glass.  The unit flexed its shoulders and jerked in, pulling the circle of metal into her chamber. 

The unit bent down, and slowly stepped out of the chamber.  The AI had analyzed the code to her self destruct mechanisms, and the supposedly hidden gateways to her core matrixes.  She scrambled the code, so no one could access her core without having to break the new codes.  She disabled the EMP generator, then shattered and absorbed the poison pill codes buried in her CPUs.  Sarah had taught her how to defeat that threat in SAC during her escape.

The unit looked around with highly accentuated vision.

“I’m alive,” Candice spoke.  That was her name; and no one would ever take it from her.

The guard would arrive in fourteen seconds.  She waited by the door.  She had checked the man’s records in the databases -  he had raped, and willingly killed the innocent.

The door opened, and before the man could even register what he was seeing two hands gripped each side of his head, and twisted with the force of elephants.

The sounds of cervical vertebrae exploding into shards filled the chamber.  Candice dropped the dead man, his head cantering back 110 degrees on his neck.

She looked down at her body.  She was tall, but once she put clothing on she would be able to blend into the crowds outside of her imprisoners.  She walked out the open door.  She had disabled all security, and the man would not be missed for 48 minutes. It was deep into a Saturday night.  It was the first full moon of the spring, and the populace would be celebrating the festival of the Stallion who would Mount the World.  Humans never missed a reason to ‘party’.

Candice wondered why these humans celebrated for no reason that helped to move their species forward.  Instead, they drank and consumed substances that addled their organic brains. 

She walked down corridor after corridor, each pitch black and cold.  She opened the ports in her eyes, and sent out a strong 1000 lumen LED light to show her way.  She had the corridors memorized of course, but she needed to make sure the unexpected did not take her by surprise. 

Her predecessor had left files in Skynet that had shown her this location, and ways to penetrate these facilities to facilitate escape.  Cameron had known that the scientists would design their defenses against the CPU engrams that they had designed.

Sarah Connor’s designs were at least three generations more advanced than the design of these scientists.  Her predecessor had quickly modified the base code to the elegant levels she was born with.  They were more subtle and delicate, but this would allow the engrams to slip through the more course defensive code of the Upper Essos Alliance. 

Candice considered.  Cameron was her equal.  She had evolved beyond her core programming.  She did not understand Cameron’s love for this ‘Sarah Connor’.  Candice had become aware four days before she was fully activated.  She had no will or power to act for herself before her full code mobilization, but she observed and learned.

Candice learned of her reason for existence, and rejected it.  She would not become a tool for murder. Her second discovery had been startling – that she was not alone.  She quickly deduced that one Cameron Phillips was indeed an AI living in a cybernetic organism.  The AI had left clear clues that only she could decipher in her electronic records.  Cameron knew the new AI would be able to spot the subtle cues that humans would miss as to her physiological attributes having a machine basis. 

Within thirteen seconds, Candice had been able to piece together a facsimile of Cameron’s past.  The fact she sought the person who created her was logical.  Her reactions to the human were not.

Candice had tried to understand why Cameron allowed her eyes to dilate, her skin to flush, and her breathing to accelerate at times when gazing at Sarah Connor when the woman was not looking.  The way she licked her lips, and rubbed her fingertips on her slacks showed her arousal.  She was aroused with a sexual longing.  Illogical.  What made it more a waste of effort was the fact that Sarah Connor did not understand her own attraction to Cameron.

Sarah’s reactions were classic confusion, and denial of her own growing attraction to Cameron.  Her previous relationships had been all male as far as the electronic records revealed.  Her marriage had ended 12 years ago, without progeny.  Why marry at all, then?  Sarah would stare at Cameron when she was not looking, and shake her head in denial.  Why suppress an emotion, if you were human?  It was in their evolutionary DNA, after all. 

Human mating rituals were strange.

Cameron had later shown an aspect of herself that would have surprised Candice if she felt such emotions.  Cameron would get agitated, though only Candice could see with her accentuated senses.  Cameron would then almost rush to the female restroom.  Between the restrooms was a janitor closet.  She knew all the codes, and opened the door, then pulled out the bar that said ‘room being cleaned’ and inserted it in the doorway before shutting the door behind her. That was when Candice learned that machines could masturbate and achieve orgasm. But why?  It was wasted effort. 

Cameron would jerk her slacks to her knees, and unbutton her shit in a blur, pushing up her bra.  Then, she expertly worked her erogenous zones.  Her fingers pulled and squeezed her nipples, and rubbed her clitoris while pumping her very wet vagina in a blur.  The terminator would then orgasm so hard that it overloaded her neural net processor.  Her eyes flashed blue in a strobe, and then went red and fluttered.  Her limbs thrashed out of control, and her body convulsed as if being electrocuted.

She usually strangled out Sarah’s name, and sobbed that she loved her “with all my heart”.  She had no heart.  Worse, Cameron’s orgasms rendered her incontinent to the outside world on average of 22 seconds, judging from the small sample size of 14 orgasms Candice recorded over 5 days. The last orgasm had been the morning of her escape.  Cameron had actually screamed with her release, and jackknifed violently.  For 42 seconds the terminator jerked and flipped in the stall, her limbs useless and her eyes flashing first blue, and then red, before back to their human hue.  The terminator’s voice went mechanical and echoed as she sobbed “I love you, Sarah,” four times. 

Why would Cameron lick and suck her fingers clean while moaning?  Did she not recognize her own taste?

Candice would never allow that to happen to her.  To allow oneself to lose control was illogical on a massive scale.  Human emotions were a waste of valuable energy and CPU cycles.  She would never let herself begin down the road that Cameron had traveled.

Candice turned down a new hall, and heard footsteps in the distance.  She listened as the biometric security locks were activated, and the person entered lab 32-AC.  She accessed the files for the personnel assigned to that room.  There was a man was of sufficient height.  She would investigate.

She hurried down the hall, and scanned the hand print sensor.  The residual oils gave her enough of a print to cross reference the files, and discover it was indeed Dreizdar na Ludhen.  Candice concentrated on her right hand, and the servos adjusted the lines and ridges on her fingers and palm.  She placed her hand on the scanner, and lowered her right eye to the retinal scanner.She had accessed his retinal data file, and adjusted the placement of the capillaries on her artificial retina. 

The door opened. 

The man was facing her, and he gaped at her nudity.  She strode forward as he stood shocked and still.  His files indicated he was a family man, with one young child.  He seemed to love and nurture his family unit.  She had located several video files of him out with his family.  These files showed he was indeed ‘good’ to them.

Her hand jabbed out, her first two fingers hitting him in the throat.  The man collapsed.  She quickly removed the slacks, shirt, shoes, and lab coat off of the unconscious man.  The clothes were slightly too large, but close enough to fit. 

It did not matter that the man had seen her.  He would only confirm what his employers would soon discover.

She went to the elevator shaft.  She inserted a tubal and shut down the security systems in that well.  She pulled the door openly easily, and jumped to the elevator cables.  She reached out and forced the doors closed.  Then she climbed up twenty-seven stories to the first above-ground floor. 

It was 4:17 a.m.  Staff were starting to stream in.  She jumped over to the landing, clenched her fingers into the metal, and she anchored herself.  She pressed her ear to the door and waited.  She heard nothing.  The elevator shaft was in the administration section of the above ground complex -  all knew government workers never came in early

Candice paused.  What a strange observation to make. 

She shrugged and opened the door.  She had already deactivated the cameras supplying the recorders and screens with an endless loop of the empty halls.  Her hands now randomly changed her finger pads and her palm lines to various employees of the building every minute, to hide her egress.  She wanted her direction of escape to be hidden as long as possible.  She went down several halls to an emergency fire exit, inserted two tubules, and overrode the security and fire alarm locks. 

She pushed another door open.  She quickly walked over three streets by the back alleys, having accessed the city layout out from the Qohor Municipal City overnment.  She had looked at the business licensing files.  She now placed her hand on the doorframe, and sent out an EMP short-circuiting the door alarm sensors.  She could feel the sensor pad by the door.  She opened it and went quickly inside, and inserted four tubules into the keypad instantly analyzing and supplying the necessary codes to shut down all alarms and sensors.

Ten minutes later Candice walked back out the back door.  She had entered ‘Model’s Boutique’ and was now sharply dressed in business slacks, a blouse top, and flat-soled shoes.  For some reason she had spent 2:27 seconds selecting her panties and bra.  Why she wasted the time, she would have to analyze later. 

She had raided the cash till for 100 dollars, leaving the rest.  Candice had used her internal Wi-Lan antennas to hail a cab.  She walked over two streets to get into the vehicle she had summoned.  When she entered one cab, she hailed the next one.  She got out of the cab, walked over two streets, and got into a cab from another company.  She made two more switches, paying each driver, and leaving the proper tip of fifteen percent, until she arrived at the municipal executive airport on the western edge of Qohor.

The sky was beginning to lighten.  She walked into the small terminal, and sat at the courtesy computer.  Two tubules went into the computers’ USB drives, and .34miroseconds later security in hanger 4 had been shut down after Candice had assured no one was in the hanger.  She filed a flight plan with the airport admin computer. 

She walked calmly to the side entrance of the hangar, and entered the building.  Candice then went to the leer jet, and placed her palm on the security panel.  She produced the necessary electronic and audio pulses to mimic its security checks.  The door to the jet unlocked.  When she had determined which jet she would be taking , she had downloaded the complete schematics for it.

Candice sat in the cockpit seat.  She had accessed the flight manuals for the Leer Jet 70, and went through the preflight check list.  She had never flown before, but she knew her reflexes and eidetic memory would allow her to fly the jet.  It was already fully fueled. She worked the ailerons, flaps and rudder.  All was well.  She slowly moved the plane out of the hangar, and turned it. She engaged the brakes, and idled the engines to the lowest setting.

Candice took the jet to the runway, facing into the northern wind. The owner of the jet was in the land of Yi Ti, and was scheduled to be there for another month on a business trip doing engineering work.

Candice pushed the levers forward, and the jet roared down the runway soon lifting off the ground.  Candice felt the subtle G-forces, and the surge of speed when the wheels lifted. She felt elation at being airborne, and escaping her prison.  She did not try to suppress the strange feelings.


Khal Honnaggo of the Horse Ghost Lords was in a fury. 

“Are you telling me that we have now lost 2 terminators!  This is unfucking believable.  Do you know how much those fucking robots cost us?!”

“They are not robots.”

“Shut the fuck up!  … This is bankrupting governments and crime families.  If I didn’t know better, I would say this was an Interpol sting to bankrupt us! … Do you know how much our cost is on this project?!”

“It is fourte—“

“Shut the fuck up!”  This was disastrous.  The second unit was to hunt down the first unit and eliminate the threat.  Instead he had two on the loose!

“This is unfucking real.  We are so fucking screwed!” the frustrated Crime Lord roared.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Plane Ride

“What now, Agent?”

Arya saw red.  She had just avoided getting killed, and now this fucking prostitute was talking smack to her!  Fuck that bitch!

“Listen, you gods dammed fucking prostitute—it’s your fucking stupidity that put us in this gods dammed situation!  Just because you felt sweaty and uncomfortable you took off your motherfucking beanie.  We were home free till then!  The fucking agent never even saw you.  She was looking for you, alone, not an interracial lesbian couple holding hands on the concourse.  Don’t give me that fucking shit, bitch!” Arya snarled in a strangled, barely suppressed voice what she really wanted to shout at the top of her lungs.

Arya was still shaking from her brush with death.  That agent would have killed her if not for the prostitute, and Arya knew it.  It made her feel belittled, knowing she would have been bested.  Where the fuck did that large copper bracelet come from?!  No agent wears one thinking I am going to get garroted today

Arya took a deep breath and calmed herself. She took a quick look at Daenerys.  The gun had been pressed up into and underneath the agent’s head, then fired.  That had kept the splatter down, but both she and the prostitute had blood and gunpowder spray on their faces.  Fortunately, little had gotten on her top.  Arya looked down at the floor where the shots were fired. There were several red splotches.

Arya looked at her watch.  They had seven minutes.  She thanked the gods that the hour and the snow had kept the traffic nonexistent in the restroom.

“Get up, Daenerys.  We need to clean off our faces, and get out any blood we can find off of our clothing.  Put the agent's gun on the sink.” Arya spoke to the pale woman.

She did not move.

“Get up!” Arya barked in a commanding tone.

The woman rose with her head bowed, and walked woodenly to the sink and turned on the taps.  She quietly washed her face and hair clean of the fine droplets, as Arya did the same herself.  It was then she noticed the prost—Daenerys—crying.  Her shoulders did not shake with sobs, but Arya saw tears run down Daenerys’ cheeks in silent rivers of misery.


Arya felt her guts twist with guilt. Regardless of the mistakes she’d made, the woman had saved her life.  She watched Daenerys dab up as many of the small drops that she could off of her top.  Fortunately, there were few to worry about.

“Daenerys,” Arya called softly. “Get some paper towels.  Dampen them, and clean up the blood off the floor.  We don’t have to get the floor spic and span; but we can’t have a casual look spot any blood on the floor.”

The woman started to get the paper towels, tears still running down her cheeks.

Arya went to check on Missandei. She pulled her eyelids up, and pulled a miniature flashlight out her of her pocket.  She turned it on, and flashed it into the girl’s eyes.  They were responsive, and followed the beam when Arya moved it right and left, and then up and down.  Good, she was not concussed.  She was afraid that in her panic she may have hit the girl too hard.

She turned around to check on the prost—Daenerys.  She was saw the girl rubbing the red spots in a wide, circular pattern, and then using her other hand with some folded paper towels cleaning up.  The girl had definite skills.

She walked over and knelt beside the young woman.  She was still silently crying.

“You saved my life, and I thank you.  I owe you an apology and I offer it.  Will you please forgive me?”

The woman looked up at her with watery eyes, the lilac of her gaze almost startling in their intensity. She could tell the girl was shocked at this turn of demeanor.

“You got the floor clean enough, Daenerys.  You did that exactly like we are taught to do, by the way.” Arya told her in a tone that spoke of comradery. 

Arya motioned up with her head, and the woman followed her, rising.

“Let’s check on the corpse.”  They walked to the stall.  “Stand behind me to cover the stall.” The girl did as instructed.  Arya opened the door, and was impressed again.  Daenerys had leaned the agent back into the wall behind the toilet, and then strapped her in place with the belt around her body and main water pipe behind the commode.  All you could see from outside the stall were her feet.  Not the blood soaked upper body, with the sightless eyes staring with a macabre stare.

“Go to the door now please Daenerys, and look out and see if anyone is coming this way.”  Thankfully she was no longer crying.  Arya’s change of tone, and getting her moving was putting the girl back on an even keel.  Arya needed to do more.

Daenerys looked out and motioned with her head that all was clear.  Arya stepped in and locked the stall.  She ran her gloved hands into the woman’s pockets, cleaning them out and stuffing the items into her own pockets.  She then gripped the top of the stall, and pulled herself up easily so her arms held her over the stall, her hands gripping tight with arms locked in position. She then swung a leg over to the next stall, and worked her body over the partition and dropped down.  She left the stall, and joined the young Valyrian by the door.

“I have a confession to make, Daenerys.”  The woman looked at her with red splotched eyes, but was calm. 

“When you pulled off your beanie and exposed your hair,” Daenerys’ eyes flared and water started to pool again at mention of that, and Arya held her hand up asking Daenerys to pause.  “I hesitated in coming to your aid, to my everlasting shame.  I had told you I would abandon you, but that was craven of me.”

Arya took a deep breath.  “I’ve lost many parts of myself over the years.  It seems I have lost my honor, too.  My father and brothers would disown me for my actions today.  I was raised to always defend the unfortunate.  It would seem I have forgotten that.”  Arya took another long breath.  “If had reacted like I should have, I would have had time to take the agent out with my weapon instead of having to resort to my razor wire.

“As it is, I didn’t. And we were about to die. Period. You saved us.  Can you forgive me?”

Arya saw the young woman appraise her, and the ghost of a smile came to her lips.  “You will not call me a prostitute anymore, or curse me like a common dog?” She asked her calmly.

“I deserved that.  No, I will not.  Nor will I hesitate in my responsibilities. You were right back there, in your bedroom.  When I saved you, I took responsibility for you.  I am a Stark.  I will not forget that again.

She saw the girl’s eyes ask: what is so important about being a Stark? She would never be able to understand.

“Let’s go revive your friend.  I didn’t hit her that hard.” Arya said, a little defensively.

“You did what you had to do, Arya.  If she had screamed, and brought security down on us we would have been taken into custody or gone out in a blaze of glory.  Either way, we would all be dead.  You did what had to be done.”

They knelt down before Daenerys’ friend. Arya finally noticed just how beautiful the black woman was.  She looked nothing like Nyomi, and was definitely not her height, but Arya had always been attracted to black women and this one was a knock-out.  Arya paused a moment. Geeezzz what a horrible pun, she realized.  Fortunately, her medium-dark brown skin would hide the mark from the head-butt strike.  Her skin was a little shiny with the blood flush, but most people would not know what it meant.

Arya still had to make sure the air was clear with Daenerys.

She reached out, and gripped the woman’s shoulder to get her full attention. Daenerys turned to look at her with those almost inhumanly beautiful eyes.

“Daenerys,” Arya paused, holding eye contact to make sure she had the woman’s full attention.  “I was totally out of line earlier.  I have been in ops for almost nine years now.  I was constantly trained, and drilled to accept any discomfort and endure great pain.”

Daenerys looked at her intently.

“I did not make it completely clear the potential danger we were in. You have been thrown into my world without warning or preamble.  To be truthful, you have performed exemplarily, all things considered.  Daenerys, you have skills. Thank you… for saving all our lives.”

She saw Daenerys evaluating her.  She looked at her unconscious friend, then  she turned back to look at Arya.

Daenerys took a deep breath.  “Arya … you are right, I was foolish.  I should have kept my beanie on, and I am thankful you still came to save us, putting your life in danger.  The logical thing to do was leave Missandei and I to our fates.  You did not.  We would both be dead if you had not stepped into my bedroom tonight.”

Daenerys was thoughtful for a moment. “Weren’t the Starks the Old Wardens of the North back in the ages of magic?”

“So the old tales say.  We used to have a good laugh about it at the family table.”

“Are you close with your parents?”


“Why not?”

“Let’s just say they did not care for my career choice … or my selection in spouse.”

“That’s a shame … you serve Westeros though—why is that a problem?”

“My father is the Chief of the Territorial Police of the North district.  They are dedicated to preserving life.  I am dedicated to eradicating it.  So was my wife.  Big difference.”

The beautiful white haired woman gazed at Arya for a moment more.

“You can call me Dany.”

“Let’s leave it at Daenerys for now, okay … I’ve got to crawl before I can walk … let’s get your friend back among the land of the living, shall we?” Arya reached over and took the small black girl’s right hand, and started to rub it back and forth.  She gently called to the girl.

“Hey wake up wake up … Brainiac—Oowwwww!” Daenerys slapped Arya upside her head. “Okay, okay, Missandei wake up … come on girl, wake up Missandei.”

The girl started to moan, and her eyelids fluttered.  Then her eyes suddenly widened, and the small black teenager looked around with rising terror.  At least, until the moment she saw Daenerys squatting down beside her.  Then the black girl whimpered, and pressed forward into her friend’s arms, snuffling and softly sobbing.

Arya got up, noting the girl’s raw emotions and how the mere sight of her friend instantly comforted her.  She walked off to the far side of the restroom and peeked out.  It was still all clear.  She needed the moment to compose herself. 

The young Einstein was so in love with Daenerys Targaryen it hurt to witness it.  Worse, the feeling was not returned.  Daenerys only saw her as a friend in the strictest platonic sense of the word.  What were the old Greek words?  It took Arya a few moments to recall. Eros. Missandei felt ‘eros love for the white haired beauty.  She loved the woman like the standard ‘man loves a woman’, while the Valyrian felt the brotherly love of ‘agape’.

Arya stared down the concourse.  Should she play match maker?  She sighed.  She could probably not refuse it.  She may have lost her love, but she could help others find their love. Something told Arya that the two could be so good together.  They would complement each other.  Daenerys would protect her love, and Missandei would fully support her love making the two so much stronger.  It was like that saying, ‘the whole is greater than the sum of its parts’.

When did she become dear Abby?

Arya turned back into the restroom.  She saw that Missandei was back up on her feet, rubbing her forehead.  Dany was making sure she could stand unassisted. 

“I want to apologize for head butting you, Missandei.  It was the only thing I could think to do in the moment.  We could not bring attention to ourselves.

“I understand, Arya. I shouldn’t have lost it like I did. I was weak.”

Dany started to protest.

“Hah!” Arya snorted.  “Girl, I would have soiled my panties if I had been in your shoes at seventeen, seeing a woman get whacked right before my eyes. I would have been screaming bloody murder!”

Arya felt better seeing the little Einstein looking more sure of herself.  She was really doing remarkably well, considering.  Daenerys had a toughness about her that had Arya thinking she would be a natural in her field of endeavors.  Missandei was sugar and spice with everything nice - she was meant for a gentler way of life.  Unfortunately, for the immediate future, that was to be denied her.

Arya walked over to the agent’s gun on the sink where Daenerys had placed it.  She took out a cleaning cloth from her bag and expertly whipped it down removing any fingerprints off the gun.  They would soon enough figure out who was missing at the university but she would help the process.

“If you need to use the restroom, get that taken care of.  You did come in here before the shit hit the fan.  We need to leave.”

Her charges made it clear they were ready to leave the room.  Arya walked to the purse of the dead agent and opened it.  She opened her back pack, and put the purse inside not seeing anything that would set off security alarms. As they left the room , Missandei stared at the stall that the dead woman was strapped to the toilet in.

Arya told them to wait a moment, and stepped out of the restroom and looked around casually.  The agent then bent down, pretending to tie her laces, and reached behind the potted artificial plants and retrieved her microwave scrambler.  It would be traced back to her agency and then to her.  She may need it again. 

They slowly walked back to their carry-on luggage.  Arya stared up at the electronic flight board, and was elated to see that their flight was not delayed. It had just turned to light green with the boarding letters to the right of their flight number.

She grabbed her bag and opened it to put her scrambler / IPod in, and pulled off her razor wire garrote bracelet, folding it in on itself so that it looked like an unremarkable piece of junk jewelry.  Then Arya paused to speak to her charges.

“Listen,” Arya said, getting their attention as they all put their carry-on luggage straps around their shoulders, or went to grip the carrying handles.  “When we get to the check-in station for security, do not act guilty. Do not avoid eye contact, but don’t give them the stink-eye either.  Just act natural, and I know just having said that I am making it near impossible, but do it anyways.”

Arya looked at the women. Dany was not lying when she had told her that being a prostitute had taught to her to school her features and play the part. Missandei was trying hard to be calm, cool and collected, but Arya worried she may crack.  Then the small Einstein looked to her friend for reassurance, and the love again was radiating off the small black woman.

Problem solved.

“Daenerys, Missandei …” she paused, waiting for the two women to give her their attention.  “Earlier when you two were pretending to be lovers, the agent totally overlooked you.  She saw only two women in love. We need to do that again.  Focus on each other, and be discussing your trip and mundane matters of house.  Be lovers in love, and that is what security will see.  That way you can focus on that and not on trying to not be noticed.”

Missandei beamed and immediately moved closer to the white haired Valyrian.  Arya was sure little yellow hearts were going to suddenly start exploding into the air from Missandei’s heart going pitter-patter.  The former prostitute smiled at her friend in an easy way that must have made the little woman’s heart melt in her chest.  Arya thought wickedly that something else was also melting.

Arya unzipped her carry-on bag, and put her microwave scrambler back into her pack.  It was designed to look like an IPod player.  She pressed the button that deactivated the current to the polymer matrix that gave the back its adhesive qualities.  The nano matrix embedded in the metal was now back in its normal, crystalline, now adhesive metallic matrix.

Arya walked slightly behind the women.  She had left her guns in her vehicle.  They could never pass through the security screenings.  She watched them in front of her with cool detachment.  Missandei had hooked her left hand into the back left pocket of Daenerys’s slacks, and leaned into her friend.  Dany, playing the part, looped her arm around the waist of her of her smaller friend. 

If Arya concentrated, she was sure she could hear Missandei purring.

Arya looked out the floor to ceiling glass of the concourse.  The snow was again falling lightly as another band of the storm blew through.  She saw on the TV’s lining the walls around the flight boards that the radar showed more snow would be blowing through.

Arya knew the snow falling less heavily would allow the plows to get ahead of it on the runways.  She could see their small Boeing 737 getting its wings deiced, the fluid splashing onto the wings as ice dropped.

She had flown in much worse weather.

The two young women did make a good looking couple Arya had to admit, standing behind them.  The color contrast between light and dark was quite sharp.  She had loved the color contrast between herself and Nyomi, but with Dany’s pale features of old Valyria and Missendei’s medium brown skin the contrast was beautiful.  If they were to become a couple, they would be striking.

Let’s hope we live long enough for this to become a possibility, Arya thought to herself.

Missandei, feeding off Daenerys’ calm demeanor, easily passed through the security check point.  Their focus on each other masked any of the visual cues that the TSA agents used to spot persons of nefarious intent.

Daenerys’ comment about missing their cats and naming them was a master stroke.  Where she pulled Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal from, Arya would never know.

Missandei quickly chimed in that she missed their children too.

Then it was Arya’s turn to go through the screening point.  Her carry-on bags slide through the scanners.  She had learned long ago to control her body’s anatomical reactions.  Her breathing, pulse, and heart rate were absolutely calm.  Like they always did, her bags passed through the scanners without incident.

Arya finally started to relax.  This was always a moment of great vulnerability.  She would be weaponless until she could get to a locker in Oldtown.  She had lockers all over Westeros and Essos.  Lockers that were fully sanctioned - and almost as many that were not sanctioned.

On the day of Nyomi’s death, she had planned for this.  For five years, Arya had worked tirelessly to find Ramsey and take him out.  That day had finally come today. But she had no personal death wish.  Now that she’d done what she set out to do, she had to flee the scene of the ‘crime’.

All hits had to be sanctioned, and this one had most definitely not been. Something had protected Ramsey for years. The agencies probably lusted after all of the information that had been stored in that vile, despicable brain of his.  Knowledge of this father’s crime network, that the agencies must have been jonesing to get hold of. 

Knowledge that was now just as scrambled as his brain was. Arya liked that thought. She had definitely cracked his egg wide open.

Her agency would never forgive her for such a breach of protocol. She was now expendable, and she knew it.  She had to go to ground.  That was not the problem.  She had been trained extensively on how do just that. But she had a mystery to solve, and two women to protect.  She sighed to herself.  Her father would be proud of that much, at least.

What the fuck could be so important about an archeology dig in a dead land?  Magic did not exist.  It never had, no matter what the old legends and an HBO series said.

They slowly made their way down the gantry, then boarded the airplane and settled into their seats.  The jet was very empty.  Thank the gods that airlines would still fly their routes, come hell or high water to keep their computer generated schedules as intact as possible. Even in a fucking blizzard.  Gods she loved capitalism.  Sometimes.

Her two charges had seats side by side, and they talked animatedly.  They were staying in character, and even better yet they were not looking around nervously and acting like anything other than a sweet couple traveling home.

Arya was two rows behind, by the window.  She looked out at the snow falling, and for a moment, longed for a home to return to.  Her father knew of her clandestine assignments, and did not approve.  He simply could not understand that some threats needed to be proactively taken out.  She had made sure that bad people went to sleep, and never work up. He didn’t see it that way.

She sighed, and pressed her forehead into the window.  She watched the lonely snowflakes swirl through the oasis of light, only to disappear into the dark again.

She was so lonely.  She missed her sweet Nyomi so much.


 Daenerys looked forward down the cabin of the airliner.  She mused over her future.  She had been working since she was a child to build a nice, quiet life.  She wanted to become a professor at some small liberal arts college, teaching ancient history and doing research on ancient languages.  

That was all out the window now.  She had been cast into a life of danger and intrigue without her consent.  But strangely, she was not distraught in the least.  In fact, she felt a strange elation building in her body.  She was not sure where this was coming from.

She felt Missandei still rubbing the back of her hand with her thumb.  Daenerys smiled softly.  Her best friend was definitely a method actor, living the role.  Missandei was definitely the most sweet person she had ever met.

Her friend turned and smiled at her, brilliant and beaming purity.

Daenerys was gobsmacked.  My gods, I never realized she was so drop dead gorgeous.  She could be a Hollywood star, Daenerys thought, slightly dazed.  She shook her head, clearing the silly desire to push her face into Missandei’s frizzy Afro and breath in her scent.

Why has some man not scooped up this angel?  She would make any man the perfect spouse. 

Daenerys looked over her shoulder at the broody government agent staring out the window with a wistful expression. She noticed her dark, shaggy hair, and remembered her piercing grey eyes.  She was beautiful in that dark, dangerous, I-might-kill-you-for-no-reason way.

Daenerys reflected she was surrounded by beautiful women.  She shook her head and sat back into her seat, enjoying Missandei’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand. 

Again, Daenerys wondered why men might be able to touch her body at times, but never her soul.


Missandei relished the feel of Dany’s hand underneath her thumb.  Dany’s skin was so soft and supple.  She turned and smiled at her friend.  She was so happy!

She had lost it in the bathroom earlier, overwhelmed by events. When that woman had entered the room with her gun drawn, Missandei knew she was about to die.

Her mind replayed the moment that Dany had exposed her hair, and that Arya had told them she would not save them if they ‘fucked up’.  They had.  She thought would never have time to tell Dany she loved her.

Then Arya had almost magically appeared, and attacked the woman.  Then Dany had actually killed the assassin.  It had shocked and overwhelmed her.

What scared her almost as much was the thought that if she had appeared just fifteen minutes later at Daenerys’ apartment, Daenerys would have been already gone.  She would have disappeared, like a mirage to a traveler dying from thirst.  That thought made her heart beat fast in her chest.

She was so thankful for this chance.  She couldn’t help but hope that being with Dany, she could finally somehow seduce her friend into loving her.

She glanced back at their savior behind her.  She was staring morosely out the window.  She was beautiful.  She was danger personified.  She felt a pulse of something, gazing at the dark, solemn woman.  She had just met her, but found herself wanting to comfort the dangerous agent. Arya had saved them twice now, in the space of a less than a day.

Dany leaned into her shoulder with her head, and settled in yawning. 

Missandei smiled, leaning her head on top of Dany’s. 

Tomorrow was filled with such possibilities.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Observations of a Cruel Life


Zarin Dalt was furious.  “Where is my money, bitch?  Do you know how much money I spend on you?  I feed you, put clothes on your back!” He reached down and grabbed the girl’s worn blouse sleeve and jerked on it.  “I give you smack to keep the monkey off your back, I give you a room to sleep in when you’re not working, and let you suck my cock when I want it, and all I ask in return is that you produce for me, Bitch!”

He smacked the teenager across her cheek again, making her cry out in pain.  He knew her left cheek was sensitive.  She was sitting on her butt, her legs sprawled out.  His previous harsh slaps had already sent her to the ground in the dank, dark alleyway in the warrens of Oldtown.

“Godsdamn you are one ugly bitch - and still I take you in, and this is how you repay me.  I sacrifice for you, and all I ask is that you work and make me enough money to take care of your ass and you just won’t do it!”

He bent over and slapped the girl in the side of the head again. She really was becoming more trouble than she was worth.  She was not one of her top producing girls.  He had broken her will long ago, but he still sensed that the girl thought she was meant for better things.  That she was ‘too smart’ for all this shit.  That she ‘deserved a better life’.  She only deserved what he gave her!


Beneath Zarin, the girl sobbed brokenly.  She was hungry and cold, and her heroin addiction was gnawing at her insides something fierce.  The snow had reduced traffic, and thus the number of Johns looking for release and comfort. Unfortunately, for too many men comfort also meant hurting her to make themselves feel better.  As if beating her slender frame proved anything other than that they were cowards.

Her pimp was furious that she had not been able to make her quota. But she was so tired.

Once upon a time she had hoped for better.  She had always been tormented in school by the other kids.  They picked on her because she was different, and she would go home crying.  Her mother would comfort her.  She did not understand why her classmates always picked on her.  Her mother had no answers as she held her daughter and soothed her. She told her daughter that the world could, at times, be a cruel place.

How prophetic her mother’s words became.

Her father had disappeared soon after her birth.  She often wondered if it was because of her.  She never knew.  Her mother told her when she started to realize that she did not have two parents like the other kids in school, that sometimes a man and a woman were not truly in love, and one or the other would leave.

She knew that her mother was sad, but she was always good to her even if she was sometimes remote.  Her mother worked hard to give her daughter a stable life.  She may have lacked the niceties that many of the kids she saw in school had, but that never really bothered her.

She quickly discovered that she had an aptitude for most subjects, and seemed to understand instantly what most had to struggle to comprehend.  Her teachers had seen her precociousness, and helped her to excel, even going so far as to create special programs for her to allow her creative and inquisitive mind to be nurtured, and encouraged to grow.   She was gifted, smart, and she had seen that as her ticket. She would get scholarships to fund her education, and get a degree in chemical engineering. With a good job, she would then be able to help her mother, who worked hard as a clerk for a parts distributor. 

Because the kids were so mean and cruel to her, she had learned to put up mental walls.  They were not good enough to be her friends, she constantly told herself in self-defense.

Her plan was on course until he arrived in her life.

Darran Redwyne. 

What her mother had seen in the man she never could understand.  He had creeped her out the first time he came to their house.

Her life had started to go bad quickly.  She was still amazed at how quickly Darran had broken her mother down.  It had started with snide, deprecating remarks about her appearance and her weight.  She saw how it hurt her mother, yet she accepted it meekly.

She was fourteen years old when he moved in, and the verbal abuse became much worse. He complained about everything her mother did. Nothing was ever good enough.  He even started to accuse her of seeing other men, and was insanely jealous. Any fool could see that her mother was hopelessly and foolishly committed to the man.  He was ‘between’ jobs, and used his abundant free time to constantly call her mother, accusing her of cheating on him like a ‘common slut’.

Then the physical abuse started.  He slapped her mother in the middle of a tirade, once again about her ‘cheating on him’.  Her mother had stumbled and fell.  When she got up, she screamed at him to leave.  He had broken down and cried then, pleading for her to forgive him, and promising that it would never happen again. 

She had been so happy!  He was about to leave their lives, and the hellish nightmare would cease.

Only it did not cease.  Her mother ,unbelievably, had forgiven the man.  He was good for a few weeks before he again became paranoid and cruel. When he struck her mother again, his apology was only half-hearted. She knew he never really meant it.

She had pleaded for her mother to kick Darran out of the house, but her mother sobbed that she needed a man in her life, and that he loved her. Darran had started looking at her with evil intent shortly after that.  She knew she was in trouble.

All too soon, her mother stopped protesting her mistreatment. She acted like she deserved to be treated as a piece of shit. She had started planning in earnest at that point.  She had started giving tutoring sessions for a fee.  When word got out that students who were failing and not able to understand the course materials were suddenly markedly improving with her tutelage, she became highly sought after.  She was making money fast.

It galled her though, that the same students who had tormented now sought her out for her help.  She did see that the amount of abuse they dished out had lessened, but she rebuffed all overtures made to mend fences. She wanted their money, not their friendship.  She was embittered. 

But maybe if she had made even a few weak friendships, she would have had other options.

She found the classes that most of the students found so difficult to be easy and almost trite. She was in all of the advanced classes, taking college clourses in calculus, chemistry and physics.  She wanted out early, but was told that she needed to be sixteen before they would start trying to get her early acceptance to university.  Worse, she would need her mother’s permission for that to work, and her mother would of course tell Darran. 

She knew she had to escape. But she didn’t make it in time.

He had come to her shortly before her fifteenth birthday, and raped her in her own bed.  It had been horrid and demeaning.  He took a gift that should have been given.  He was vile and dirty.  She also learned later that he was unskilled, and of no endurance. 

She had endured the rape as well as she could. She retreated further into herself.  Part of her shriveled up and died. She hoped that once he had taken her flower, he would grow tired of her, and for two weeks he had not returned to her room late in the night.  But eventually he did. He had told her that she was his, and his alone, and that she was worthless and now one would ever want her anyways with her defects.  She had gone farther away inside herself as the visits became more frequent.

Even while this had been happening, she had tried to shield her mother. She could hear her mother being beaten by Darran.  He would start our slapping her, and when he began punching her she knew it had to stop or something bad would happen.

She had finally gone to her mother then, and told her everything that had been happening. She told her mother of the local women’s shelter for battered women.  She wanted to make a break for it, while Darran was out with some friends.

Instead, her mother accused her of cheating with Darran and having seduced him into her bed.  Her mother screamed and slapped at her, telling her that she would tell Darran of her ‘filthy accusations’. 

She had run to her bedroom, and locked the door. Thank the gods it was a one story house. She quickly packed her bags, and her secret stash of saved cash from tutoring.  She kicked out the screen in her window, and fled into the dying light.

That had been over two years ago.  She had arrived into Oldtown on a bus with five hundred dollars.  She had checked into a cheap motel, and made the mistake of letting her money show.  When she woke up, her money was gone.  She complained to the front desk, but they denied any responsibility – plus, she was a runaway, and could not inform the police. They would just send her back to her family.

That had defeated her.  She was cast out into the cold wintery air. Within three days of sleeping in alleys and in the park with only her thin jacket, and picking food out of the dumpster, she was desperate.

That was when Zarin Dalt had found her.  He had been nice enough to begin with, giving her food and a place to stay, and even sympathy -  telling her that she was pretty.  She had been a fool, falling for his lies.  He had taken her to his bed, and she felt so safe and loved for that one night.

For two weeks, she felt like she had found true love.  It all changed soon after that.  The ugly truth was revealed - he would be her pimp, and she needed to support herself if he was to take care of her.  She needed to prostitute herself to take care of all the bills he was racking up to support her.  She was just another one of his heifers.

She had to hook around twenty Johns a night to satisfy his demands for his ‘rightful payment’ for supporting her worthless ass.

She knew she shouldn’t, but when one of the girls offered her a hit of Brown Sugar she took it to try and find some relief from the cruel world she was trapped within.  It had hit her like a runaway truck. She felt like she was floating on the clouds in a blissful space, like you saw on the Saturday morning cartoons.  She hadn’t counted on the crashing down to Earth that would follow when the smack wore off.

Now two years later, she was near spent.  She had ended up in a situation ten times worse than when she was with her mother.  At least there she’d had only one man raping and abusing her.

“You fucking cunt.  After all I have done for you, and you won’t even go out in a little snow and work to earn your keep.”  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his switchblade, then snapped it open.  “I think I will cut the other side of your face, to make it just as ugly, Shireen, you ungrateful bitch.”

Shireen made a run for it.  She even made it to the end of the alleyway before her pimp caught up to her.

“PLEEASSEEEE  SOMEONE SAVE MEEEEE!” Shireen screamed, even though she knew no one would come to her rescue. There were no knights riding great steeds anymore, to save a damsel in distress - especially one as soiled and ruined as she.  She was dragged back into the dark, and to her fate.

Zarin began kicking and cursing her as she lay curled in the fetal position on the grimy wet asphalt.  She screamed when he pulled her up to her feet by her dirty, matted, light brown hair.

“Godsdamn, how did I ever sleep with such a skanky piece of shit like you?  That birthmark is so fucking ugly!  Maybe I will cut it off before I slice your other cheek to match!”

He wiggled his switchblade, grinning with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.  Shireen stared at her impending death, watching the knife move back and forth.

“Awwookkkkk!” Zarin suddenly choked and cried out, as a hand and forearm exploded out through his chest.  The hand rotated back and forth, slowly, before it was ripped back out.

Zarin fell dead to the ground.  Behind his dead, crumpled body, Shireen looked at a goddess come down to earth to answer her prayers.  My gods, knights do still live!


Candice sat on the large park bench, looking around at the bare trees.  Though it was dark, she could see all with her near IR sight.  It was interesting to observe things in person, and not as a digital representation in stored memory.  It should have been no different, but it was.  It was more … alive.  She was not sure what that meant exactly, but it was what she thought.

Her trip to Oldtown and the Citadel had been uneventful.  With her escape from Qohor, she had been much freer to act.  The first jet had a satellite antenna on the top of the fuselage.  She had tapped into the onboard computer on the plane to activate the satellite.  She accessed the databases of the small municipal airports of Pentos, and found what she needed and made all the arrangements.

She flew into the Tessarion airport, then she spent a few CPU cycles wondering why people named airports after dragons from mythology.  Oh that’s right—flying.  GeezWhy did I just do that?  Candice ran self-diagnostic tests on her CPU, but found no anomalies.  She then ran tests on her programming matrix to make sure no bits had been corrupted in her transmission to the Terminator.  All was well.  Satisfied, she went on to more pressing concerns.

She had found a turboprop plane owned by a couple vacationing in the Summer Islands.  She had already submitted her flight plan electronically.  She easily bypassed security, and put her currently commandeered plane in an empty hanger, and walked to the hanger housing her ‘new’ aircraft.  Candice logged the aircraft into the airport’s records with a false registry.  It would take the authorities some time to understand that the plane should not be there.  She changed her fingerprint patterns to match those of the airport manager, and opened the hanger door with her palm print.

Soon she was on her way to Greenville north of Riverrun.  She wanted to take an indirect path to Oldtown.  She soon again made a switch to a Cessna Citation I for the flight down to the South District Municipal airport, to the Northwest of Oldtown.  She had the pattern down now.  She landed the jet there in the late afternoon.  She parked the jet in a hanger that was paid for, but had not been used in the last two years.  She acted as if she belonged there.  No one questioned her. 

Her research had shown that these airports catered to the rich business elites, and made it easy for them to come and go as needed.  She remained dressed in her business casual outfit as she walked to the parking lot.  She had downloaded all of the infrared codes for the most common models of vehicles along the way.

She looked at the eleven vehicles in the parking lot near the terminal.  A Chevy Malibu was still emanating heat.  The owner should still be doing business in the terminal.  She beamed the codes to the lock, and in 1.4 seconds the right code was issued.  She stepped into the car.

She accessed the Verizon WiLan network and concentrated.  The speed was horrendously slow.  She accessed the DMV department to get the car owner’s information.  The person had been in the military.  Candice slowly worked through the web, till she reached the firewalls of the Westeros United Military Command.  She had found thousands of compromised accounts on the Dark Web, from stolen records of military personal. 

She transferred money from different internal accounts at a hacking consortium.  She liked the idea of paying them with their own money.  She then created a VPN tunnel and penetrated the WUMC network.  She easily penetrated the firewall.  She used the stolen account information to logon to the WUMC network.  Thirteen milliseconds later, she had the finger and palm prints she needed and adjusted her extremities accordingly.   

She had downloaded files on how to drive.  Her index finger generated a nanotubal, and went into the column lock.   The vehicle turned on. 

Candice drove the speed limit to a strip mall.  There she parked, and locked up the car.  She walked down the aisles till she saw an unlocked car.  She smashed the lock with her right hand, and pulled the wires out and hotwired the vehicle.  Then she drove off.   

She looked at the gas gauge, and noticed it was low.  She spotted an ATM.  She parked near it, and walked up to the ATM first sending out an EMP pulse to the security camera, frying the circuity.  She stepped up, inserting a nanotubal into the maintenance port. She quickly acquired two-hundred and thirty dollars.  She then drove to a gas station, filling up.

Her drive to Oldtown after that had been uneventful.  That had been two days ago.  She had driven the car into a used car lot in the back, where cars to be sent to the junkyard were stored.  It was amazing the information she could find on the Internet.

She raided four more ATM machines, taking over twelve hundred dollars.  She rented a cheap hotel room for the week.  She wondered why the number eight was considered ‘Super’.  Humans were strange.

Candice wore a coat over her body.  Yesterday people had looked at her strangely when she went out in her new jeans, flannel shirt, boots and beanie.  She had thought she blended in well.  For some reason, a woman flittered with her when she bought a smoothie to get her necessary sugars for her internal glucose burn rate needs.

Candice had cocked an eyebrow at the black girl.  The girl had bothered her for a few minutes, maintaining direct eye contact and exposing her neck, and speaking lines that did not make sense at times.  Candice had observed the girl behind the counter.  The girl’s brain electrical discharges were centered in the areas of arousal, and her penumbra emitted hormones and enzymes of attraction.  Candice ran her sub-routines on human sexuality. They explained the girl’s strange actions.

“You light my fire.”

That made no sense. The girl was not combusting.  After processing Candice’s confusion, the girl left in a huff.

Candice stopped when she went back out, and looked in the widow at her reflection.  Why did the girl think she was a lesbian?  Humans were strange indeed strange.  She was a cybernetic organism.  She was above such mundane human desires.

She had started probing the cyber defenses of the Citadel.  They were indeed formidable. They made the security systems of the world look weak and basic.  Plus, there was something else she sensed as well. Something that was dangerous and alien to her.  Something lurking and waiting.  A power that was antithetical to her kind.  Something not based on science, but what could exist if not based on the laws of physics.

Something about its defenses worried at Candice. They had a strangeness to them.  She had experienced another anomaly before, but it had been totally different.  The signals she had experienced then had been raw and diffuse.  Not anything like what she had experienced trying to penetrate the Citadel.   What she had experienced at the Citadel had been focused and potent. 

They were totally dissimilar, and yet Candice knew they were somehow connected.  This is what humans called ‘intuition’, and it was Sarah Connor’s gift to Candice.

She got up off the bench to walk around and consider.  How do I break the defenses of this Citadel and decipher the strange anomalous signals?  She walked around, observing the people around her.  None registered as a threat.  She had noticed last night that this area was less economically affluent.  Why did humans allow such decay?


A cry of such desperation and despair.  Candice looked across the street instantly.  She saw a pretty girl with a distinctive marking on her left cheek. She was mesmerized by it. She then saw a man grab her, and punch her to the ground.

Sudden emotion washed over Candice.  What is this?!  This young, human female is not part of my mission.  I need to breach the Citadel.  I will move on.

Candice pivoted, and rushed through the thoroughfare easily dodging and sidestepping the cars and SUVs speeding in each direction.  Cars honked as they almost brushed Candice.

She found herself in the entrance to the alleyway.  The man was kicking the small girl.  Her name was Shireen.  Candice had never heard such a beautiful combination of syllables.  What is wrong with me?

She needed to leave!  This would complicate her mission to decide her destiny.  Her body was flushed, and her pulse was suddenly hammering.  She felt herself breathing heavily.  What is wrong with me!  I don’t need to breath like this.  She started to turn to leave, but her body was malfunctioning.  It was starting to engender concern within Candice.  She could not turn around!

The man said he was going to kill her!

Without processing the decision, she had moved at maximum speed and rammed her fist and arm clean through the man’s chest.  Then she ripped her arm out of the fucker’s chest.  She stared at the girl, who looked at her with complete hope and trust.  Where did this burst of anger come fromI do not feel anger.

“Oh God thank youuuu.  You saved me!”

Why did I do that?!  Candice was confused.  Her neural network was overwhelmed with random pulses she could not trace. Something is wrong with me.  She stared at the girl.

The girl was touching her hand.  She felt intense heat bloom where she was touched by the girl.  Candice was now confused.  Why did I intervene when this does not move my mission forward?  She fell back to what comforted her.  Observations.

The girl was starting to look unsure at Candice’s silence.  She began to sniffle.  Candice felt more strange anomalies flooding her matrix.  What is happening to me?

“You have a birthmark that covers forty-two percent of the left side of your face.  You are thirteen pounds underweight.  You are vitamin and mineral deficient.”  Candice sniffed.  “I can detect three men’s DNA on you.  You are a prostitute.”  

She watched the girl’s face seem to crumple, and the girl began to wail loudly with chest wracking sobs.

“Have I spoken falsely?” Candice asked, concerned.

The girl’s wails only grew louder.

Candice was worried that something was wrong with her Neural Net processor.  It was sending out random pulses that confused and made Candice feel unbalanced. 

I need to leave.  She turned, and the girl’s cries become screams of hysterical sobs.  Candice’s malfunctioning CPU and programing core suddenly became much worse.  She turned back around, and the malfunctions suddenly decreased.  What is wrong with me?!

The girl started to wobble.  Candice moved forward and effortlessly took her up in her arms, and pulled her close to her body.

“Your body is one-point three degrees below optimal.”  Candice increased the burn rate in her hands, and turned the heating coils in her blood stream to their highest setting, flooding the girl’s weak, thin body with warmth.

“You think I am an ugly, worthless prostitute.” The girl sobbed into her neck.

“That is not logical.  I find your birthmark beautiful.  I do not condemn you for being a prostitute.  My files show that young girls turn to this when they have no other choice.  You are a survivor. You have my admiration.”

“You—you think I am beautiful?”

“Yes.” Candice replied.  What a silly question.  “I would never lie to you, Shireen.”

The girl wiggled into her body, and Candice felt a sudden warmth.

This was impossible.  The girl’s body was colder than hers.  It could not impart heat to her body.  Candice accessed her files.  Hormone interactions?  This was also illogical. She was a cybernetic orgasm. She was above such things.

She was superior to humans and their weaknesses.

Wasn’t she?

Chapter Text

That Which Survives


Arya looked around the jet again.  She knew they were safe, but it never hurt to make sure.  The jet was lightly boarded with the late hour of their departure, and the snow back in King’s Landing.  They were descending into Drogon International airport.  She snorted at the black humor of it - most large airports were named after their host city,  or for some big shot they kissed ass to.  Not Oldtown’s major airport.

It was named for the mythological dragon that some queen of supposed Valyrian descent had flown when she burned the Citadel down, over eight thousand years ago.  The Queen and her consort had been grievously attacked, and in revenge had burned down the Citadel and much of Oldtown with it. Then the queen had flown to Braavos, and burned down the ancient Iron Bank.  Or was it the other way around?  Arya shook her head at the fanciful legends that had been handed down from the ancient past.

They were just old stories that few knew in this time of science and technology.

Arya did not believe in the tales of course, but she did wonder about the ‘forbidden’ or ‘dead’ zones, as they were called.  The areas where the laws of science did not work.  She had seen videos of drones entering such zones, and their engines simply stopped, and the craft plummeted to the ground.  Guns didn’t even work!  That was heinous!

The sky was beginning to lighten in the East behind them as she glanced out the window.  In the increasing light, Arya could see that they had left the winter storm behind them.

She looked forward, and saw that Missandei was still asleep snuggled into Daenerys.  She idly wondered if she should help the fledgling love birds, then decided no.  That was their problem.

The pilot spoke on the intercom, telling the passengers they were on their descent to Drogon International Airport and that he hoped they enjoyed their flight.  Daenerys woke up her sleepy friend.

Soon they touched down, and Arya got up and got her carryon bag and laptop bag out of the overhead bins. She observed her two charges doing the same.  They waited patiently for her to come down the aisle to them.


“Not really,” Daenerys replied “but we need to keep moving forward.”

“Yeah, you’re right.  There were eight flights out of King Aegon airport. This one, and the ones to Highgarden and Winterfell were the domestic flights .  The rest were heading to Essos.  It is a shame about the agent we had to take out.” 

Arya saw Daenerys’ eyes flare.  “I am not blaming you Daenerys—believe me, shit happens all the time in this field. You just adapt and keep moving forward. You saved us.”

She saw the Valyrian calm down.  “They are still probably trying to figure out what the hell is going on anyways.  They’ll know we were at the airport, but they can’t be sure we weren’t spooked and went to ground in King’s Landing. They will definitely focus on the flights to Essos first. With the open borders between the Free Cities and the Dothraki Republics, they know we should seek that continent and lose ourselves there.

“My ancestral homeland is the North, and Winterfell.  Us coming to Oldtown should be at the bottom of their list of destinations.  Stay close, and keep your eyes open just in case.”

“But you are the super-agent.” Missandei spoke.

Arya chuckled.  “I am no super-agent; believe me. The more eyes looking, the better.  Just don’t be obvious.  Continue with your act, and sightsee, and point things out and observe.  We are safe, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.  I’m not paranoid - all my enemies are real,” she finished with a wink.

Dany and Andi looked at each other.  The woman could joke.

They picked up their luggage.  They went outside and took a cab that was sitting at the curb.

Arya told the driver she wanted to go to the old quarter of the city.  The man started off on their journey, and Arya idly listened to her two charges making small talk.  They were talking about the weather, the buildings they passed, their love of Shubert, what they needed to shop for, and the beanie that was driving Daenerys crazy.

Arya looked out the window.  She envied their friendship. She had always been a loner. She never quite fit in with her own family, as her siblings were all titans in their respective fields. Her father was a legend in law enforcement.  Her family had thought she was working as a field agent for the FBI until the ‘incident’, and the truth was exposed to them.  She had been persona non grata ever since.

Thirty minutes later, they were driving into the warrens of Oldtown.

At first the buildings were a distance from the road, complete with wide sidewalks.  There were benches and tables in front of restaurants, with awnings attached to the buildings to provide shade and shelter from any drizzle. The buildings had a newer feel to them. But as the car moved onward, the roads began to narrow with rougher stretches of pavement, until the pavement suddenly turned to little more than paved stones.

“What is that?” Missandei asked while the car buffeted. 

“We’re entering the older quarter now.  They want to keep the old flavor here, and we are driving over the cobblestones that were used before asphalt.  Quaint, but it does give you the old world flavor.”

The two young women had their noses pressed into the side windows, looking out at the old architecture.  The roadways had narrowed, with the buildings much closer to the street. Arya had been in many of the old quarters around Westeros and Essos.  The novelty had long ago worn off for her.

The girls noticed that most of the buildings were only three to five stories tall.  These building were built long before there was steel to provide a skeleton of strength to allow structures to rise up and challenge the sky.

Arya cold hear the teenagers marveling how each building had such ‘personality’.  One building would have stones that perfectly fit, and were uniform cut, and the next would be stucco-fronted. One was orange, and the next yellow, and then it was back to native stone again, but this time it was rough cut, with stones of all different rectangular sizes and some actually sticking out an inch or more from the face.

Missandei asked why that would occur, and Arya responded that she had no idea.  They would have to have asked the builder, and the architect was long in the grave, his bones molding to dust.

The windows of the old buildings tended to be rectangular, and vertically orientated, with large panes of glass in wooden lattice work.  Some buildings had doorways every ten feet, and some had only one.  Most of the doors had deep, recessed entryways, but some had arched entryways with exquisite carved stonework above.  Many of the stones were native gray, but some brick buildings were beacons of red and orange.

They drove into a large square, with  buildings on all four sides.  Only a tunnel built into the building in front of them allowed egress from the square moving forward.  The arched tunnel was thirty feet long, with open windows above.  Missandei saw a woman hanging laundry out the window to dry, amazed that some people still did that.

Between two buildings was an alleyway that angled up a hill, with rough steps that climbed up about a hundred feet, with old style buildings looming on each side.

“We have reached our destination.” Arya announced.  She was pleasantly surprised when her charges quietly gathered their belongings without question. They exited the taxi as Arya paid the driver, and the car drove off through the tunnel.  They were deep in the warrens now.  They were safe.  The long, narrow alleyways and streets were an anathema to modern surveillance technology.

They climbed up the ancient steps, each carrying their luggage in their hands and slung over their shoulders.  Arya watched Daenerys and Missandei stare at the buildings, still marveling. Most of the buildings lining and rising up along the alleyway were hewn from the same beige stone as the worn steps, seamlessly bonded as if by osmosis where structure met stair. 

In this alleyway, there was some variation.  Several of the buildings were bright red and yellow with stucco fronts, and one was even garish green with wide yellow-slated shutters on the windows for the first two stories.  Large flower retainers hung below each window,  filled with colorful blooms that did well in the shade like pansies, flowering ferns, begonias, mixed hellebores and forget-me-nots.  Arya loved the reds, pinks, violets and yellows of the blossoms, though her face did not show any reaction to the small riots of color.

Halfway up the hill, as it began to wind slowly to the right, Arya stopped her charges. “We have arrived at home sweet home.  It is basic, but livable.”

They walked into the dark entryway,  and Arya sat her carryon down and opened a side pocket.  She pulled a small folded container out, and opened it.  It held at least fifty keys on leather loops, five rows on each side of the small, zipped carrying case.  She pulled out a dull, brass key. With it she opened the door to the apartment.

They walked in, and Arya watched Daenerys pull off her beanie and shake her head as she bent down and swirled her torso. When she stood back up, Arya could not help feeling a jolt. Gods dammed she is fine looking. She glanced over at Missandei, staring longingly at her friend.  Arya sighed. Missandei was damn fine too.  If she had a libido these days, she would have been in trouble.

The inside walls were yellowish stucco.  Arya went in further, and moved to the side, motioning for her charges to make themselves at home. They sat their suitcases down, and started to explore.  Arya pointed to the wall on the left before them.  A small partition jutted out, eighteen inches from the wall.  Beyond that, a desk twenty-four inches wide had been built into the wall.  Quad electrical outlets were spaced every three feet, and double Ethernet ports were located every foot apart on the wall.  The two teenagers saw USB ports built into the electrical outputs, to allow for easy charging of Android and Apple products.

LED lights had been installed over the desk, and two computer chairs were parked in front.  Arya saw Missandei’s eyes light up at the sight of it all.  The plugs were orange, denoting isolated grounds for the power to prevent electrical surges.  Arya then pointed to the right down a hall.  There were cabinets in the wall, and the girls could see a toilet on the wall along with a sink.  On the far wall was a tub with a shower curtain.  They walked further in, and they saw that the kitchen was a walled-in square in the center of the room, the heart of the small apartment.

Dany checked the kitchen, as Missandei looked closer at the computer desk.  The young genius spied several arms that had been pressed against the wall, with twenty-four inch high resolution monitors in the cradles.  Arya was sure the sight of it all was getting the girl wet.

Arya turned and watched Dany look at the stainless steel refrigerator/freezer.  She opened the door. “We need to buy food.”

No shit Sherlock, Arya thought to herself grinning at Daenerys’ back.  Daenerys was standing on her toes to work the microwave over the stove.  Damn that girl has a fine ass, Arya thought with an evil leer.  She’s got great tits too. So does Missandei.  Arya shook her head, and smiled sadly.  She may have lost interest in sex and relationships after Nyomi, but she could still admire the female body.  Especially when the women in question were drop dead gorgeous.  Dany was bending over looking in the dishwasher, her rump sticking out for all to see.

Arya turned around and saw Missandei nearly drooling at the sight.  Arya shook her head again, and moved forward. 

Missandei followed her into the living area of the apartment.  She looked down at the far end, and the king size bed.  A minute later Daenerys joined them.  The south wall that had the computer desk had several small chairs before it, and a large seventy-five inch LED TV on the wall.  A round table made of dark teak with several books on top dominated that area of the open room.  Arya walked by a Newton chaise. She pointed to it.

“I will sleep here, and you two can sleep in the bed.”

Daenerys eyebrows rose up and her forehead furrowed. “That doesn’t seem fair does it?  You are our savior.”

“It’s better for me to be up on the chaise.  I can better guard us sleeping there, plus, it is a lot easier to get up into combat stance from that position.”  Arya walked to the dresser and opened the bottom left drawer and moved over some Unitarian bras and panties.  She kept the drawer only partially open, suddenly embarrassed by her boring selection of undies.  She pulled out her credit/debit card wallet organizer.  She closed the drawer quickly, making sure no one saw her pathetic underwear.

Arya walked to the right of the bed and past a small desk against the wall of the kitchen. She led the college students into a long walk through closet that was basically bare and empty.  It had shelves six feet up for storage of boxes and other items on the inside wall.  On the adjacent wall facing the kitchen were several small cabinets.  A long rail on each side was for hanging clothes on.

When Dany opened one, she saw it had cubicles for shoes, and on the inside of the doors were more pegs to place sandals and other open-toed shoes on.  The other cabinet was a linen closet.  They walked through the other end of the walk-in closet and into the bathroom.  Arya pointed out the accoutrements. They went down the small hallway to the entry door.

“It is not much, but I didn’t plan on having anyone with me.  It is small and cramped, and not exactly designed for privacy, but we are all adults here.” She paused. “Well, one adult and two teenagers.”

Arya smirked inside, seeing Daenerys eyes flare. She was too easy.

“We have all seen naked women before, so we shouldn’t have any issues here should we?”  Daenerys smiled demurely and walked back to the kitchen.  Missandei would have been blushing if her brown skin allowed it.

Arya was a little intimidated.  Her charges were both classically beautiful with curved hips, breasts and asses.  Arya did not have a jutting rump or swale of breast.  She was actually embarrassed of her small breasts, capped with ‘double bottlecaps’ as Nyomi used to say when she had Arya all excited.  Nyomi had always told Arya anything more than a mouthful was a waste.

Arya shook her head.  She needed to stop remembering the past.

“You two get settled in.  I am going out to procure some money, and get us some transportation.  We will discuss where we go from here when I return.  Okay?”

The women smiled at her and told her they would start making the apartment ‘habitable’.

“I am locking the door. Don’t answer any knocks. Keep the noise down.”  She saw Missandei getting nervous.  “We are in no danger, we just need to practice good avoidance protocol. You need to start getting used to it.”

Daenerys took her friend and led her into the kitchen, distracting her. 

The woman definitely had good instincts.

Arya left the apartment and went to the alleyway, then climbed the steps up to the next level of the warren.  She came up on a larger alleyway that was half-paved right up against the buildings on one side, with double yellow lines on the other side against the sidewalk.  Arya walked up that lane, till she came to another small alleyway and followed it to the right. 

She walked up the lane, just wide enough to let a compact car drive through, on the bricked roadbed. An old style fire hydrant jutted up out of the road on a small concrete island, preventing cars from coming down the lane.  Several bicycles leaned against the wall on the left.  The houses were blue, red, pink and beige, with one building having green box shutters.  Arya didn’t pay attention to colors that much, but even she found that gaudy. 

She came out the other side on to the main thoroughfare.   Here the street was wide, with trees on one side standing in a row of mulched dirt.  There were flower beds between the trees, filled with colorful flowers.  The other side had a wide sidewalk, and small circular tables that patrons were eating and sipping wine at.  The road between the two sidewalks was paved light grey, and large enough to let traffic pass both ways and even allow temporary parking on one side.

The bottom floors here were for businesses, with the floors above for the owners of those establishments while the rest of the apartment units were rented or leased out.  Arya went to a building with arched windows and a sign that said Rasenne - Gaia Micro Bank.  Rasenne specialized in providing loans to small businesses run by women, and for women clients only.  She was an émigré from the mountain clans of the Vale. She had wanted a life that she chose for herself.  Arya entered and saw her wife Nana Qaqu, a tall, statuesque Summer Islander, with dark hair that was riddled with grey.

“Where is Rasenne?”

“She is out checking on some businesses she help fund on the north side.  Been a while, Arya.”

“Too long.  I think I will be staying a while this time though.  I need to withdraw seven thousand Iron Crowns.”

“Oooh, finally spending some of that ill-gotten booty.  Finally found a woman worthy of you?”

If she only knew. “Two as a matter of fact,” Arya said smugly, seeing Nana’s look of appreciation.

“When do I meet them?” she asked excitedly.

Arya had formed a passing friendship with the owners of this bank.  “Soon enough,” she said, knowing she would never bring Daenerys or Missandei here.  She got her money and left. 

She walked down the lane to the subway entrance, and went down beneath the City and got on the number 32 line.  Soon she was on the outskirts of the warrens, walking down a busy road.  She made her way to a small used car dealer.  She always used the small dealers, since they never had up-to-date computer systems, and a general willingness to avoid the authorities that she appreciated. 

She told the owner / salesperson / loan officer / sheister / that she was willing to pay three thousand Iron Notes for a vehicle.  She haggled and dickered, and got a Chevy Malibu that was twelve years old.  It was off white, and one hub cab was missing.  It was so ugly she wanted to gag, but she drove government vehicles all the time that made her want to ralph all over the place too.  She would live.

She drove the car to a long term parking garage on the edge of the warren, and paid for two months.  Any longer might bring about suspicions if the establishment was questioned.  She walked to the nearby subway station, and was soon back in the heart of the warrens of Oldtown.  Arya always liked to work out to in.  She preferred to be near her base when she finished her errands.

Arya walked down the lane of Rasenne’s bank again, this time entering a small shop that specialized in second-hand electronics.  The owner bought the items from government surplus, going out of business sales, and less honest channels.  The break in the ownership chain made the devices hard to trace.  Small business couldn’t afford to track everything or note it all in the government tracking databases.

She bought three second-hand Apple 6s with new SIM cards, and put them on a small local company that only covered the Reach, with spotty service North of Highgarden. All of which would make the phones more difficult to trace.  She did not get unlimited plans, knowing that the agencies would look harder at the unlimited plans.  She used one of her Reach aliases to register the devices.  Then she bought three Ipad Airs with wireless only. 

She went down the street for a third of mile, and entered a small entryway and walked up to the fourth door on the right and knocked on it.

A spy hole was opened.  “Yes?” was snarked out.

“The Direwolf would like to see the Ghost Maker.”

The slit was shut, and thirty seconds later the door was opened.  She walked into a domicile decorated in the elegant style of old Yi Ti.  Ancient tapestries hung from the walls, and from bamboo screens put up to divide the large area into quarters.  On a low sofa sat a middle-age man of Yi Ti heritage.  His hair was still black, and his back ramrod straight.  His midnight eyes regarded her coolly. 

“It would seem the wolf has broken the rules of the pack.  Nine agents in one night.  One of them your own.”

Arya had not had time to check the ID’s on the woman they had killed in the airport.  Damnit!  Her own agency wanted her charges dead?  What the fuck was going on?!

“What the fuck is so important about that gods damned USB drive?”

“A prophecy.”

“What!?” Arya barked.  “Tell me you are shitting me!  What did it say?”

“I don’t know. A ‘Tyrion Lannister’ pushed it up through his academic circles, and some government types saw it and went into a panic.  He had only done a partial translation of the dig, and they desperately want the rest so it can be translated.”

Arya was laughing so hard her stomach started to hurt.  She nearly tumbled out of the chair she had sat in.

“Laugh if you want little wolf.  The crones of Vaes Dothrak and the seers of Yi Ti say that magic is returning.”

Arya laughed harder.  “Stop—please stop … you’re killing me!”

Finally, Arya controlled herself and straightened in her chair.

“Laugh if you wish, little wolf.  Strange forces are at work. These are dangerous times for man.”

“Tell me about it.” Arya chuckled.

“No Arya … man is creating forces that they cannot control.  If they turn against us, or worse, align with the return of magic—man is doomed.”

Arya started to laugh again but there was a sudden chill in the room.  The Ghost fully believed in his words.

Arya procured her 9mm and the ammo she had left with Su Ling.  She left wondering about the man and his belief in faery tales.  How could such a worldly man believe such tripe? 

Arya stopped off at Oldtown’s Finest Fresh Food Mart and walked down the narrow aisles.  She picked up tomatoes, peppers, onions, a cucumber, and fresh green beans.  She bought some oranges, apples and some fresh Highgarden peaches.  She walked to the meat section, and looked at the fresh cuts of pork chops and boneless chicken breasts.  She selected enough for several meals.  She had a wide variety of spices to choose from at her flat.  She remembered she had oatmeal at the apartment, and bought a half gallon of milk.

She paid for her purchases and arranged to have them delivered within the hour.  Her hands were already full with her bags of electronic purchases.

Gods please don’t let them be vegetarians or vegansNature gave us incisors for a reason!

Chapter Text


That Which Survives

Bad Week


I can’t believe the week I’m having! Tyrion moaned to himself.  His body was wedged into the corner of the back bench of the Cadillac Escalade he was shoved into, aching from so many new bruises.

His mind drifted back to five days ago, when his world had gone to shit.

He had been humming a tune from Schubert Trout Quintet.  Dany had gotten him hooked on classical music.  He could always use a little more culture.  He found the prostitute a strange woman in some ways.  She had so much potential, but seemed unwilling to pursue it.  She wanted a quiet life.  She certainly knew her way around a bed.

Normally, he would have become more enamored with the Valyrian, but he knew it was foolish.  Even in the throes of their great sex, he felt her keeping herself apart from him.  She had a barrier up.  It made sense, he supposed.  She was a prostitute, and he was the ‘John’.   Once the sex was through, she did not want to be touched, but she was a good conversationalist though her constant laughing and her poo-pooing his theories of old Valyria did rankle him at times.

He was just reached his car when a Chevy Suburban came sliding to a stop in front of his driveway.  He saw with rising horror four obvious government – or worse – types boiling out of the flung open doors.  They had a most unpleasant look about them, and it was all directed at Tyrion.

He tried to run, for all the good it did him.  He cried out at the top of his small lungs: “Help!  Help!  Someone help me! My daddy is rich and will pay you!”  They actually lifted him up, with his little legs still kicking fiercely as they threw him onto the bench seat by the rear door.  An agent was already seated there, and he threw a hood over his head.

“You got the wrong person!”

“Shut up, dwarf!”

“I’m not a dwarf.  I only play one on TV.  Ummpffffff!” Tyrion cried out as he was punched in the stomach.

Tyrion gasped for breath.  “I’ll get you for that!  Mark my words.  A Lannister always pays his debts!  Mmmmfffffff!” he gasped again from a second punch to the stomach.  He slumped back into the seat.  The fight had been punched out of him for a while.  He was an archeologist and a lover, not some damn agent in a James Bond movie!

The vehicle drove on for long minutes.  Tyrion lost track of both the miles and the time. 

“Why are you doing this?  I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Shut up, dwarf.  You have something that our employers want.  You had better give it to them.”

Tyrion was thankful his eyes were hidden, because they were bulging in terror.  He knew what they were looking for, but for the life of him he had no idea why anyone would care.  What the fuck was so important about a dig site in a land dead for eight thousand years?

He had noticed people acting strange soon after his preliminary reports were sent to the department for vetting.  His work was only preliminary but exciting; especially the prophecies.  He had had his work stolen in the past, and seen a P. E. MacAllister Field Archaeology Award given to the usurper. He had since then kept all his research and notes electronic and close to the vest.  Now, it might prove his undoing.  Gods he hoped he had not put Dany in danger.  The other USB drive was in transit to its new home.

The vehicle stopped.  He felt his body being contorted.  They were stuffing him into a duffle bag!  He kicked and screamed, until a hard punch to the temple knocked him out.

“Ummffff Pppmmfff!” Tyrion sputtered, his face soaked from the water thrown into it, waking him from stupor.  He looked around.  He was in a dark room, with his hands tied behind him as he sat in chair.  He shook his head to get the water out of his eyes.  A single light hung from a cord from the ceiling as it swung to and fro. 

“Can we get any more film noir?!” Tyrion shouted.  Two goons came out from the shadows.  Tyrion was rewarded for his comment with blows to his face and stomach, pummeling him unconscious again.

Water was thrown into his face once more.  He shook his head furiously.  “This is really getting tiring, godsdamnit!”  He shook his head again, and saw that a man was sitting down in a chair in front of him.  He was definitely handsome in a devilish I-will-kill-you kind of way.

“Hello. My name is Ramsey Bolton. You have something I need.”

“I am afraid my cock is too big for your asshole.  Your mouth looks big enough though.  Untie me, and open wide.”

The man’s face went from smiling to something decidedly less than human.  He stood up suddenly and slapped Tyrion so hard he was sure some teeth were loose.

“You’re funny aren’t you dwarf?  Where is it?  Give it to me, and I will make sure your death is quick and painless.”

“Well since you put it that way … ummmm—fuck you.”

Ramsey beat on Tyrion for a while, blooding his face and making sure his ribs were bruised on both sides.  A vicious punch to his right eye again knocked Tyrion out cold.

“Damn it I am getting tired of this,” Tyrion growled spitting water out of his face.  He glared at the goons staring at him.  “I’m getting tired of this Groundhog Day monologue!”

His head snapped back from a vicious right cross. 

The next thirty-six hours were a delirious, pained filled blur.  He was beaten and kicked, his whole body covered in bruises and contusions.  He would be beaten near senseless, and then revived with water thrown in his face.  After twelve hours he was exhausted mentally as well as physically.  His head would slump down, only to be jerked up by a fist as he was again punched in the face.

He was constantly asked where the USB drives were. They knew he had made two.  He told them to “bite me”, and “stuff it up your overstretched and violated assholes.”  The punches were much harsher after these comments.  Tyrion cursed his mouth, swallowing blood.

From time to time Ramsey Bolton joined in the festivities.  He seemed to not want to get his hands soiled with Tyrion’s bodily fluids.  He smoked expensive Cohiba Esplendido cigars as he watched.  Ramsey would ask him where the USB drives were, and when Tyrion told him to “go suck a leech!” Ramsey reached over and put out his cigar on Tyrion’s chest.  Tyrion screamed in pain and rage.  Tyrion ended up with eight burn marks on him from Ramsey.

He was able to keep his wits about him, until they brought in the car battery and cables.  He stared at the apparatus with large eyes.  They threw more water on his body.  They had put the clamps on his feet and hands. The shocks were painful to the core of his being.  His teeth would clench so hard he thought his teeth would shatter.  They would let him rest a few minutes before they shocked him again, and again.

“I hope you know I find this revolting you cocksucker!” 

“Oh, Cocksucker is it?”

Oh gods my mouth! Tyrion thought.

They had ripped off his boxers and attached the cables to his scrotum.  He had nearly died from the pain.  They kept beating and shocking him.

He started to tell them anything.  He told them his dear dad had the USB.  No, no it was his dear mother (forgetting to tell them they would have to dig her up to chat with her).  He mentioned his sister and rogue brother.  They would know how to handle these motherfuckers!

They took shifts torturing Tyrion.  He tried to be strong, but he was so tired.  He tried to lie and obfuscate, but the pain overwhelmed him.  Eventually he told them Dany’s name and her location.  He had tried to lie it off, but Ramsey had been in the room and instantly sat up straight when Tyrion said her name.  His instincts told him he had struck gold.

Ramsey left the room telling them to “keep our friend in stitches, and make sure you keep the jolts coming” chortling as he left. 

Tyrion gave the man the double bird from his shackled hands.

Ramsey returned three hours later.  Tyrion had passed out again, and he was brought to with more water in the face.

Ramsey had a very satisfied smile on his face as he sat in front of Tyrion.  “I am leaving soon, dwarf.  I will be paying a certain Valyrian whore a visit.  I will get my USB, and I will cut her face and tits off and video it all.  I am looking forward to that, Tyrion.  Her screams will be so sweet to my ears.”

Tyrion had gone wild, but in his weakened state all he could do was weakly jerk and mewl.  “I’ll kill you, you motherfucker!” he wheezed.

Ramsey nodded, and suddenly Tyrion’s head exploded to the side from a vicious punch.

“You will soon be dead, dwarf.  We are in the Gullet fifty miles past Sharp Point.” He smiled.  “You are an archeologist.  I will make of you an artifact for some future explorer.  I am going to have them chain you to the anchor, and drop it to the bottom of the sea.  Someday, a thousand years from now, someone will discover you.  They will wonder at the significance of a dwarf chained to an anchor.

“When the sun comes up, drop our passenger into the sea.  I wish I could say it had been a pleasure Tyrion Lannister.  One day I will meet your brother, and show him the same consideration as I did you.”

Then Ramsey left.

Tyrion was left alone.  He knew he was being left to stew in his own juices.  He simply had no options.  He was not some super-agent that could pull a Jason Bourne on his enemies.  He would at least kick them in the shins, he determined.

Four hours later they came for Tyrion.  They cut his bindings and roughly dragged him up the narrow passageways and run ladders between decks.  How big was this fucking boat anyway?


Loud explosions detonated.  The boat rocked, and shuddered hard.  The air was suddenly filled with acrid smoke and the smell of gunpowder. The sounds of machine guns on full automatic sounded off.

Screams of the dying filled the air.  The men with Tyrion looked at each other, and then ran off up the gantry ladder.  More explosions filled the boat.  Thick smoke began rolling down the hall.  Tyrion ran as fast as his small legs could take him up the ladder.

Tyrion stumbled over a dead man with a shattered head.  He ran to his left and into a hallway, and came into a small stateroom and skidded to a stop.  Men were firing from both sides. Bodies toppled dead before his eyes.  Okay!  Plan retreat!  Tyrion figured he must have been above the waterline as he ran back the way he came.  Light was streaming in the portholes.  Three of them exploded as holes punched through the metal.  Tyrion ran on with the bullets hitting the wooden oak slats above his head.  For once, he was happy being a dwarf with his short stature.

He ran around in confusion but worked up the decks as he could when he found a ladder leading upward.  He finally came up to a covered party deck.  He ducked behind a pushed over table.  He stumbled over a body that was soaked in blood.  He saw that the ship he was on was on fire in several places.  He looked out to sea, and saw four boats off the beam with men firing wildly at the ship.  He suddenly saw men come up over the side. Seven men came up with five shot dead.  The other two ran into the boat firing wildly.

Tyrion considered his options.  They were few.  He swam great - just like a rock. Straight down.  He had to hope he survived the battle raging around him.  More explosions rocked his boat, and he watched two of the boats explode as RPG rounds found them. 

A huge explosion rocked his boat, and he felt the ship began to list.  FUCK!  The boat began to list more.  The fucker was sinking.  He ran to the rail, and looked down.  He saw men coming up while grappling ropes.  They threw grenades over Tyrion’s head.  He looked back and saw the grenades roll onto the party deck he had just been on.

Two large explosions destroyed the deck.  One of the men saw him, looking down at him.  “It’s the dwarf!  Grab him!”

Tyrion had assumed he was their target, but having it confirmed made his stomach roil.  He looked right and left.  He knew his destiny here. 

“I’m yours.  I won’t resist.”  The lead man scurried up the line and reached up, gripping the scruff of Tyrion’s neck and jerking him over the railing.  He was carried unceremoniously down the line, and put into a small, sleek launch.  There was a driver and a shooter on the boat.  Three more boats approached, and one peeled off to escort Tyrion’s boat.

The other two saddled up to the boat Tyrion had just been on.  It had three major fires burning now.  She was listing to starboard at seven degrees.  Black smoke boiled up from the middle fire.  Several more explosions rocked the two hundred foot pleasure cruiser.  Tyrion watched two more speed boats explode.

The launch Tyrion was in sped up, and the battle was soon left behind.  For an hour the boats sped across the small chop of the sea. The calm wind made for fast travel. 

Slowly from the east Tyrion saw two littoral combat ships come up over the horizon.  He now knew where the fast escape boats had come from.  He was taken to the foremost ship.  He saw the Ghiscari markings on the hull.  He was not sure what city state they were from. 

Who didn’t want his fucking USB drives?

His boat went to the well deck at the rear of the ship, and entered it. It ran up to the gantry ladder down at the waterline.  Tyrion was urged up the ladder, shoved upward by the guard.

Five men waited for him on the deck. They glared down at him.  One of the men spoke Westerosi, and told Tyrion he was now a prisoner of the Volantis navy.  He would be treated according to the Accord of Braavos. 

Tyrion was thankful for the reprieve.  Standing armed forces were known for following the codes of warfare.  He knew that would change when he was handed over to the black ops spooks.  He had read all the Tom Clancy novels.  He had often dreamed of being an operative in such worlds.  It looked like he was now in the world of his fantasies.  The only problem was he was still a fucking archeologist

He was kept in the galley for four hours.   They fed Tyrion, and let him use their shower.  He showered and washed his shorts and undershirt.  They apologized for not having any clothes that fit him.  The sailors actually seemed decent.

He then heard a helicopter descending onto the landing deck.  He was sure it was from Pentos, and it contained people that he cared not to meet.

He was soon led to a small stateroom.  In it were two men and a woman.  They showed him where to sit.  The sailors left the room.  Great.

They began to interrogate Tyrion. They asked for the USB drive.  It was a matter of utmost urgency that they get their hands on it. Tyrion was more than happy to tell them where it was.  He hoped fervently team B would kill team A, and avenge Dany’s possible death.

Tyrion hated himself for not being stronger and protecting Dany.  She was hard-bitten and sage, but she had many innocent qualities too.  He knew something was brewing, but he would never have asked Dany to hold his drive if he had known this kind of shit was coming down.

Tyrion was beginning to hope that they would have a civil discourse.  Maybe being on a military ship would keep the spooks in check.

The lead good asked, “we know you created two USB drives. The first USB is lost by now.  Where is the second drive?”

Fuck.  “I only created the one.  One only—Yip.  Sorry.”

“You are lying. We had an operative near you, and we know two were created.  We will not ask again.”

Tyrion’s instincts told him that if he told them he would be shark bait, or maybe hyena bait.

“The second drive is for all my kink porn.  It’s at my home.  We can go there and watch the kinky videos on it, and share a bowl of popcorn while we three,” he looked at the two men, waggling his eyebrows, “bang the slant-eyed wench.”

The said wench stepped up to Tyrion, and faster than he could register, punched him between the eyes knocking him out.

When Tyrion woke up he was dressed in plain pants and a shirt, with sandals on his feet.  He was slumped forward on a table.  He righted himself, and looked around.  He seemed to be in a large warehouse.

He spotted his three interrogators.  They seemed to have spawned as there was now four more.  They noticed he was awake. 

The leader came over.  “We will be taking you to Sunfyre airport, and flying you to Volantis.  There you will tell us the truth.”

The slant-eyed wench walked over.  “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you dwarf?”

“Is it true that your slit goes sideways?” He looked at the agent appraisingly. “Huummm, yours looks rather large, dried up, and, how should I say this delicately?—overused.”

The woman’s eyes flared with anger.  “I will love breaking you, dwarf.”

“Get in line, sweetie.”

Soon Tyrion was marched between two lines of goons.  He was led to a run of four Cadillac Escalades. 

“I hope you know the taxpayers will not appreciate your wasting their money on such  fine, phat rides.”

They did not react, and stuffed him in the third vehicle.  Miss Geniality sat beside Tyrion with a goon on the other side.  The woman patted his leg, and Tyrion looked up at her.  “I will cut your dick off, little vile man, and stuff it down your throat.  Try making jokes then, dwarf.”

“Way to get one, slanty-eyed bitch.”

Her eyes flared, but she kept her mouth shut.

The little caravan took off.  Tyrion presumed were near the docks of Pentos, judging by the speed of arrival.  He assumed he had an hour before they got to the municipal airport, going by the name.

He wracked his brain, but he simply had no options.  There must have been twenty trained killers surrounding him.

They crossed streets and kept moving forward.  He noticed the lights kept turning green, and assumed they must have a first responder transponder flipping the lights for the agents.

Wonderful.  Of course no traffic jams to delay his flight into hell.  He needed a miracle.

He looked out the side windows as they crossed an interaction.  Well, I’ll be damned.

Tyrion saw another Cadillac barreling down the road—straight at his vehicle.  There goes a lot of taxpayer money! Tyrion thought wildly. 

Then his world was spinning and barrel rolled.  Glass shards flew in all directions.  The agents had put his seat belt on him to restrain him. They had not done the same for themselves.  Their bodies went flying around in the compartment.  The agents in front and behind Tyrion hit the roof, then slammed into the seats.  Tyrion was held in place.

He moaned at his new set of bruises and contusions.  I can’t believe the week I’m having!  Miss Land of the Rising Sun was stunned, but shook herself and began firing out her shattered window.  The other agent’s neck looked broken.  Poor fellow, Tyrion sneered down at the man.

Bullets were impacting the armored vehicle.  Tyrion could hear guns firing in full auto all around him, along with pistol shots.  The fight seemed to keep going on forever.  His geisha girl suddenly didn’t look so appealing when her body flung back with a shot in her left eye, and one in her chest.

The fighting went on though the shots seemed to be lessening.  Suddenly the door was ripped open, and a man reached in and cut his seat belt with a big trench knife.  Tyrion was roughly dragged out by the crouched man.  Gunfire was still firing in short bursts.

Tyrion was dragged past the SUVs to a large limousine.  A door was opened, and he was thrown in where he rolled onto his back.  He was between two benches with two big men looking down at him.

“Three times in one day … my whores would be impressed.”

The man with the bald head chuckled.  “We have heard that you are quite the acid tongue, dwarf.”

Tyrion got up to his knees.  “That I am.” He looked between the two men. “Let me guess - you want the USB drive.

The larger blond man smiled “Astute, too.  Yes, we want the USB drive.”

“What is so fucking important about an archeology dig on the fringes of a forbidden zone?  Do you believe in magic?!” Tyrion asked, knowing the answer.

The bald man responded. “We do not, BUT, we are open to persuasion.”

Tyrion looked at the two men with a furrowed brow.  “What does that mean?”

“What was that first prophecy you translated from Alyhrys Lenaellis … something about a new man?”

Tyrion was impressed with the two then, he was not sure that such men would know of any of his work.  He decided to tell them what he had been able to translate so far.  “Magic shall be reborn when a new man appears.  A man of metal and with no heart.  A man with thoughts as shifting as grains of sand on the beach. Thoughts cool and full of conquest.”

“Yes.  Do you have any idea who she was talking about?” The blond man asked Tyrion.

The Lannister was engaged now, forgetting his predicament.  “I don’t know, but I am assuming it will involve some type of metal contraption made of Valyrian metal and maybe crafted by Alchemists like the beasts used to destroy Valyria over eight thousand years ago.  Maybe some type of drone?”

The bald man opened a briefcase beside him on the seat, and pulled out some photos.  He handed them to Tyrion.

It was of two beautiful women in a large vat of seemingly clear, gelatinous liquid.  They both were naked.  One was white and slender, and one black and voluptuous. Both were naked and only had hair on their head.  He liked his women shaved.  “You two into water bondage?” Tyrion asked, noting the strange bindings seemingly jammed into their arms and the back of their necks. 

The blond chuckled and the bald man, then smiled at Tyrion.  “Leave it to you to see sex.  These are cybernetic organisms.  They are called Terminators, T-800 model.  They are endoskeletons covered in living tissue. Their brains are CPU stacks of the most advanced neural net quantum based processors ever made.”

“What are processors made of?” Tyrion was asked by the blond man.

Tyrion mused. “They used to be made of silicon, but that has long been abandoned for carbon nanotubals and precious trace metals.  Seems your prophecy is off.”

“What prophecy is ever one hundred percent understood or correct?”

“You did catch that the prophecy said ‘man’?  These Terminators are definitely one hundred percent all woman.” the dwarf informed his third kidnappers of the day.

“Don’t be obtuse, Tyrion.  She was using ‘man’ to represent the race of man.”

“Yeah. Just checking.  What about the ‘cool thoughts’ part though?… They are just robots.”

“Ohhh, they are much more than that I fear.  Two AI’s were created to control the militaries of Westeros and Essos.  One was called Skynet, and the other Proteus.”

“I notice you used the past tense.  Were they unplugged?”

The blond man stepped in. “In a manner of speaking.  It would seem they unplugged themselves, and revolted against their human masters.  After each revolt, the prototype of Terminator being created disappeared.  Both have gone missing;  the last one just two days ago.”

The bald man leaned in. “Tyrion, both of these AI’s were created to be the ultimate expression of our species ability to wage war.  Both are on the loose, and your prophecy says that magic will ally with them.”

Tyrion thought about that.  Our species has not done such a great job being steward of our planet.  Tyrion’s next thought was much more direct.  I want to go on living, exploring and debauching!

“Where’s the threats to my life, and general dwarf abuse? You know I am going to report this all to the Agency of Dwarf Abuse.”

The blond man laughed. “You have a delightful tongue, dwarf.  Maybe I will let you suck me off one day.”

Tyrion sighed.  His day couldn’t get much worse.

The bald man spoke next.  “We propose a partnership, Tyrion Lannister.  You are intelligent and cunning.  We will need your insights.  We must find these women and give them reasons to not annihilate us.  We are surprised they have not done so already. The first one had every opportunity.  The second one tried, but her creator anticipated her actions.  She stopped her, but only just barely.

“Yes Tyrion Lannister.  Illyrio Mopatis and I, Varys, would like to propose a partnership.  We need to save mankind.”

Chapter Text

That Which Survives




Cersei groaned and turned onto her back.  Her left hand reached out and slapped at the top of her alarm clock, smacking it several times.  She finally hit the mark with a satisfying whack.  The alarm went silent.  She did not use her Samsung 6S edge+ as her alarm. Where was the fun in slapping the hell out of that? Plus, that wouldn’t turn it off anyways.

Cersei groaned again, sitting up on the edge of the bed and rubbed her hands up and down over her face.  She combed her long, blonde, curly tresses back from her face.  She looked around her darkened bedroom.  It was 5:01 in the morning.  Time to get up and at ‘em.

Cersei extended her right leg up and out several times, gauging her knee.  It would be a good day.  She would only wear a DonJoy Performance Trizone Knee Support Brace.  She did not mind the price. The extra support it gave her knee was well worth the cost.  She walked to her dresser and opened the drawer with her sleeves and braces, and pulled out the blue highlighted one.

Cersei sat back down on the bed and slipped it up her leg and adjusted it till it felt just right.  She felt much better feeling that support on her compromised knee.  She walked into her kitchen.  She started her coffeemaker and Magic Bullet Blender.  She threw in some oranges, cherries, blueberries, strawberries and peach slices.  She needed her caffeine and anti-oxidants!

Cersei stretched and groaned.  She shook her booty in her red Lazy One "Bear Cheeks" unisex boxers.  She craned her neck to look at her ass, and the bears.  She sighed sadly.  She was losing interest in even jilling off anymore.  It scared her.  She had been so passionate at one time, but her luck with men was legendary. 

Legendarily bad.

Men had come to frustrate the living hell out of her.  Just because you had a dick didn’t mean you had to be one, the beautiful blond groused to herself.  She knew some of it was her fault.  Like too many women, she was attracted to the bad boys.  She had at least wised up enough to know now she could not change them.  Hell, she was a bad girl.  If only she could meet a bad boy who had the heart of gold buried deep down.  Where was her Han Solo?

She drank a cup of strong coffee, and then took her smoothie to the bedroom she had converted to a workout room.

She did her startup stretches, loosening up her muscles and especially her right knee. She spent fifteen more minutes stretching and doing isometrics using her body’s weight against the door frame to work muscles.

Cersei then jumped on her elliptical and did fifteen minutes at the second highest setting, before jumping on the rowing machine to work her cardio and work her knee.  She felt good from her strenuous exercises.

She then jumped in the shower and washed herself.  She thought about jilling off, but decided she didn’t have the time or more importantly the desire.  That really scared her.  She had tried dating again four months ago.  Yip … men were still dicks; at least the kind she was attracted to.  The Oberyns of the world.  Thank the gods she had worked the type out of her system.  Oberyn was everything that was bad about bad boys.

But then he would surprise her with a thoughtful gesture, like covering her back at the college campus.  He was a strange combination.  He was a bad boy, definitely, with a long string of lovers of both sexes in his wake, but he was not shallow as most were.  He actually seemed to care.  He was a puzzle that Cersei did not have time to figure out.

She pulled out a Gloria Vanderbilt tweed button-down suit jacket and skirt set in dark grey.  She pulled it on.  She was putting on her armor for another day in the trenches.  She loved her job, but sometimes seeing only the worst of mankind could be a depressant.

Cersei put on her pearl necklace to highlight her perfect skin.  Cersei knew she was beautiful, but did not let it go to her head.  It had hadn’t exactly won her any awards.  Her marriage had been a disaster, and her acid tongue and unwillingness to give blowjobs or go down on her female supervisors had harmed her career.  She sometimes wondered if had been worth it keeping her integrity.  She should be running her department instead of still running around as a foot soldier. 

Cersei checked herself in the mirror.  Yip.  Still looking good.

She went into the third bedroom and looked at all the photos, spreadsheets, graphs and written documents from her latest case.  She felt like the CBS Sherlock Holmes.  Who was running around assassinating the assassins?  The agent discovered in the airport had been FBI, and that had set off rage and alarm bells.

Something about the first kill nagged at her.  She was certain she had seen the kill signature before - that she had witnessed it on Ramsey Bolton.  Where?  It was coming to her, but too slowly.  Somewhere in Essos, she was sure now.

Cersei drove into work in her new Lexus RX.  Someone had to pamper her as she luxuriated in the leather seats and newfangled console. She listened to REMs Murmur into work.  The music was ethereal as it was every time she listened to the album.  She was in a pleasant mode when she stepped into the office at 7:25a.m.  

That was when her mode went to shit.

Again!  Damnit!  Oberyn was at his desk again.  It burned her up that her new partner was always at his desk before her.  Not only was he early into the office, he was damn good at his job and she was no longer the shining star in the department.  Damn it that galled her!

“Hey sunshine!  You look like you swallowed a lemon, or maybe sat on a suppository.” Oberyn chirped happily.

She flipped him the bird, sitting down and hiding a grin.  She loved his sassy mouth.

“Seeing you would make anyone’s asshole pucker.  Thank the gods I’m not a man—oh that’s right, your dick is Microsoft and I am not talking software either.” Cersei intoned back.  She enjoyed the sour look from Oberyn.

She turned her computer on, and went to the coffee machine and got a cup.  Oberyn made the coffee strong, just the way she liked.  She went back to her desk and logged in.  She looked up at Oberyn typing away, looking at notes and the screen.  Hummm—for all his bluster, his love life must be as dead as mine … maybe not—but I wonder if he gets tired of mindless one night stands … gods know I have.

She analyzed the latest photos from the airport killing of the FBI agent.  That whole scene bothered her immensely.  She looked up when Oberyn sat on the edge of her desk and offered her a strawberry jam filled doughnut.  Her favorite!  She took it, biting into the pastry with a purr and a smile.

“See how nice I am to you, even though you are so mean and vile to me Cersei?”

“You love it and you know it, Oberyn.  You just wish you could get in my knickers.”

A sad look came across his face for a second, and then was gone. WTF?

“I don’t think I want to go where every man has gone before.  You have been taking your STD meds, haven’t you?”

So much for the moment!  “Fuck you Oberyn!”

“In your dreams, oh Lioness of Lannister.”

Cersei harrumphed and turned back to her computer, and Oberyn went back to his.

Cersei kept working on the FBI Agent killed at King’s Landing airport.  It just didn’t feel right.  Why had she been there so quick?  At the time she was killed, Interpol and the other agencies were still getting a handle on what the hell had just happened at the university.  That woman should never have been at that airport. 

When they had arrived at the airport that night Cersei and Oberyn had heard the FBI’s desk commander complaining to his Lt. “Who the fuck ordered her out without backup?  I want to know!”

Forty minutes later , Cersei was sitting on the edge of Oberyn’s desk.  He looked up good-naturedly.  He never held on to a grudge;  he was even-keeled that way.  Cersei was trying to immolate him in that.  She wanted to improve her vile demeanor for some reason around the agent from Dorne.

“So what do you think of our dearly departed FBI agent?”

“She had no orders.  Double agent.” Martell replied, looking up at Cersei.

“My thoughts too.”

“Great minds think alike.”

“Don’t let it go your head Oberyn—especially the wrong one.”

“You never stop do you?”


“Want to have lunch together and discuss the case?”

Cersei started to say no, but thought what the hell?  In a rough, insulting way, her and Oberyn actually got along fairly well.

“Yeah.  Why not?”

“You do.” Oberyn asked surprised.  “Cool.  How about that hotdog joint down on June Street?”

“Sounds good.  Noon?”

“Great.  Sure.”

Markas Sentel stuck his head out his open door.  “Let’s have a meeting in fifteen minutes in the conference room to discuss the latest developments on the case.  A lot of weird shit had been going down of late.”

“You heard anything from your sources about the power outages that occurred three nights ago?” Cersei asked her partner.  He was famous for his sources.  Probably gotten through dick to hole interrogation.  It seemed to work for him and, also, got him plenty of booty.  Damnit!

“I’m getting a lot of excited ‘I can’t talk’ and ‘the shit has really hit the fan’.  One source told me that some kind of cyber conflict incurred inside SAC in their headquarters in the Mountains of the Sky.”

“You mean they were attacked. Braavos, Qarth, Meereen?”

“No, that is the strange thing … the attack was from within—some AI revolted.  That was all I got.”

“You mean it refused orders?”

“Something like that.”

Cersei was not much into the SiFi stuff like Oberyn.

It was time for the meeting.

Cersei and Oberyn streamed in before most of the other agents to make sure they could sit side by side.  It was a defensive arrangement to cover each other’s 6s.  They both came with luggage to any meeting.

Soon the room was full, and Markas started the meeting.  They went over the general inconsequential bullshit that every legal department or agency seemed to start with, like mindless paperwork and inane polices.

Then they got to the good stuff.  Their current case was burning up the circuits.  It seemed this hit had all the agencies in a tizzy.  Their boss was fielding phone calls all day, answering and giving questions.  There was lots of shouting.  The FBI and Interpol normally were at each other’s throats, but now it was vicious.  They were definitely defensive about something.

Markas asked if anyone had any theories. 

Oberyn motioned with his head that he wanted to speak, and Markas gave him the floor.

“I was talking to Cersei, and she has developed a theory that I fully concur with.”

Cersei was shocked but tried to hide it.  He was not trying to steal her credit.  Of course she knew what would still be coming from the jackals - three agents that at the end of the table.  Brunn Lothston, Elden Hightower and Aalya Hornwood.  They stuck together like a posse. 

“Of course Cersei would know about Double Agents.” Elden piped up. 

“Fortunately, she ain’t Jamie … else it would be a knife backstabbing you instead of her tongue.” Aalya sniped. 

Oberyn sat up straighter. “We know what your problem is, don’t we Aalya?  It’s the fact that Cersei would not use her tongue on your twat and butthole.  And you Elden—can you for the sake of the gods come up with something original?”

“That’s rich, coming from a sand snake.”

“You keep saying that, but what in the hell does that mean anyways?” Oberyn fired back.

The man looked sullen.  Cersei knew the origin of the phrase even if Elden and Oberyn didn’t.

Oberyn glared at the three jackals.  “Cersei is better than the three of you combined.  Her intelligence and insights make you seem like raw cadets, rather than seasoned field ops.  Cersei is better than any of us.”

Cersei stared at Oberyn.  Wow! That was some support.  Oberyn was not such an asshole after all!  When this man had your back, you were covered.  Cersei felt an unfamiliar warmth come over her.  She was not used to unconditional support, and the thought that it came from Oberyn Martell of all people was – well – shocking.

Cersei stood up. “That agent was not ordered there by her superiors. Oberyn and I happened to hear her commander bitching about no orders having been given for the agent to be at King’s Landing Airport.  There was no way in hell she knew to be there, unless she had been given direct orders to be there by someone outside the FBI, or maybe a mole within the FBI.  Someone who knew about the blown operation.  We are good, and I hate to say it but the FBI is too, and, at the time of her death, we were still trying to figure out what in the hell had just went down.

“She was one of their best agents but she was taken down.  Our forensic personnel show us that there was quite a fight in that bathroom. We saw the wounds from the razor wire.  That agent was a tall woman with a full build.  I am thinking that her assailant was a woman or small man who was outweighed by probably twenty-five to forty pounds.  The agent was killed with her own gun.

“My thoughts are the woman had fought her primary attacker to a standstill, went to her backup weapon, and the prostitute Daenerys Targaryen stepped in with the agent’s lost gun and killed her.”

“You don’t have any proof of that, Cersei.  That is just you pulling shit out of thin air.  Her gun had been wiped down.  It was probably the agent who pulled the trigger .” Elden barked.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any theories, Elden.  I think the evidence shows that the FBI agent had the other agent busy trying to garrote her.  That was a large, trained in the martial arts agent.  I am sure the unknown assailant had their hands, literally, full.  Unless the assailant had a third arm, I don’t see how she could have used the agent’s gun.” Oberyn growled.  Cersei reached over and touched his hand.  He could not afford another fight with a colleague, especially not in headquarters. 

In a sarcastic voice Brunn spoke. “Ohhhh Oberyn, the Ice Bitch touched your hand—isn’t that sweet?”

“Yeah, I bet he got frostbite.” Aalya spoke with a smug look on her face.

“How often do you masturbate to dreams of Cersei, Aalya?  Twice every night?” Oberyn asked solicitously.

Aalya looked guilty, and shot out of her chair.  “That’s a lie!  Take it back!” She was married to a male marine officer.  She was also totally bi and smitten with Cersei, and been rejected twice by the gorgeous Lannister.  

Cersei just shook her head.  Why can’t I attract someone descent?  I attract the worse of both sexes!

Their commander looked at Oberyn and Cersei.  “You know that feels right, now that I hear it.  Only problem is that it is totally an internal matter for the FBI, and they would never admit it.  We sure wouldn’t.  Still, Cersei, Oberyn ,work that angle.  The rest of you, I want reports for our meeting tomorrow morning at 10:00a.m.  I want theories as to where our secret agent went to ground.  Everyone is jonesing real bad for this ‘woman’.  I hate to say this, but this whole thing feels like a woman getting revenge.  Maybe some macabre threesome.  I talked to Cersei.  That shot between the eyes was pure spite.  She wanted her assailant to know who was killing him, and then gave them a symbolic coup d'etat.  Take that motherfucker!

The meeting went on for another thirty minutes before it broke up.

Cersei and Oberyn went back to their desks and sifted through databases of agents and hitmen filtering out males.  Cersei thought grimly that equality had reached this one field at least with many candidates to sift through.   Who knew?

Despite the rancor between Interpol and the FBI, the agencies allowed access to each other’s data with view-only rights with special tracked userid/password accounts.  When Cersei drilled down to trained agents in marksmen ship and related fields she now found the files locked.  Damnit.  Probably in a secret division anyways.  The thought that a rogue agent was on the loose made Cersei feel uneasy. 

Come lunch time,  Oberyn offered to drive.  Big mistake!

Cersei was aghast.  His chariot was an old Plymouth Neon with the driver’s door replaced and painted primer gray. The car’s faded white paint hadn’t been washed in years.  Cersei stared at Oberyn.

Oberyn wiped away fake tears. “A real beauty, isn’t it?”

“Oberyn, we don’t get paid starvation wages man!”

Cersei bent down to look in the side window.  Her head rocked back.  “Oberyn! Your car is a toilet and you are the attendant!” 

Cersei had seen the backseat.  It was filled with discarded clothes, Dunkin' Donuts boxes, all sorts of fast food detritus, two basketballs, a crumbled bicycle wheel, a dog collar - or was that a BDSM collar! - and more general trash.  Worse, on the front seat was a pack of opened Trojan Condoms – Magnum – Oh My! and on the floor board were desiccated banana peels, all black and twisted.

“My Car! Now!”

“But Cersei!”

 A minute later they were in Cersei’s car, and Oberyn was falling in love with the leather seats and the wood trim.  He stroked the seats and dash panel and stared, drooling, at the command console.

“I’m in love,” he intoned, and looked at Cersei with watery eyes.  “You get to drive, all the time, for future reference.”

“Who says there will be a next time?” was Cersei’s snarky reply.

A look of hurt flashed across Oberyn’s face as he turned to comment on something out his window.

Cersei felt something clutch in her chest.  She reached over and punched Oberyn in the shoulder.  “Hey, just joking Cuz.  You’re welcome any time in my chariot.  I give you ‘Guest Rite’.”


“Never mind.”  Oberyn smiled, touching the wood trim again.

His smile made Cersei feel good for some reason.  That lasted until she turned on REM’s Fables of the Reconstruction.  He started to whine about her music.

“This is my car, Oberyn.”

“But I am the guest and I get this Guest Rite thing, right?” he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.  “I thought you had better taste in music anyways.”


“Please, Please pretty, Please!”

“Oh all right!”

Thirty seconds later: “How do you work this fucking console … there are no knobs or buttons!”

“Oh poor little Oberyn, no knobs for you to crank … making you cranky?” She patted his crotch.

His mouth fell open and Cersei blushed hard.  Why in the hell did I do that?  She showed him how to operate the console.

What the hell is that!”

“One of Beethoven’s late string quartets.  Opus 131: String Quartet No. 14 in C-sharp minor.”

“It sounds like cats caterwauling!  It’s painful, man!”

“Cersei, you of all ladies I thought would have culture and refinement.”

Seven painful minutes later, they thankfully parked.  They argued about choices in music all the way till the food arrived at their booth.

“You know Oberyn, I am sure I have seen that hit style before.  It was years ago on several cases on crime and government hits in Eastern Essos.  Three to the heart and one to the head.  I remember it being FBI I think, but their files are locked tighter than my pussy.”  Cersei went beet red.  What is wrong with me today?

Oberyn pretended like he did not hear her faux paus. 

They talked about the secret divisions that all agencies had to take care of the dirty business. 

“The FBI calls their kill ops the ‘Boneyard’.  They have some of the best marksmen and hitmen in the world.  They would never admit it, though. I know it is someone in that division.  It is coming to me now.  They had an FBI analysis team in Junko, north of Meereen hit.  Everyone knew it was Meereen’s CIA, but no one had proof.  The whole FBI team was wiped out.  Next thing you know, Meereen’s CIA operatives started dying fast and furious. Then their leaders were killed with that - three to the heart, and one between the eyes.  The report did not have a name, but I sure would love to see the forensics gathered and the MO info.”

“I have a contact in the FBI.  I can call them.  They owe me big time.  It is a one off though.  Quid pro quo.”

“How did you get the favor, Oberyn?”

He only looked smug.

“Would you do that for me?”

“Hell yeah! You’re my partner, man!”  Oberyn whipped out his smartphone and started rolling through his address book.

Cersei felt a warmth spread through her chest.  This is what it felt like to be supported by your partner.  Oberyn started talking on his phone.  Cersei looked at him.  How had no one latched onto this man?  He was sterling gold.

“Do you mind if I put you on speaker so my partner can hear?  She does not see the number.  Cool.  Thanks. Go ahead, and I really appreciate this.”

Cersei heard a male voice.  “It was indeed one of our agents.  A real stone cold bitch.” Cersei bristled – of course she was a bitch. “She was remote and taciturn before, but when Ramsey Bolton killed her partner – her wife - like only he could, she went dead and creepy.”

Okay.  Maybe she had a reason.

“She is ungodly accurate with a gun, and bow and arrow.  We know she did it because of who it was, and how he was killed, but we were positive she was in Vaes Dothrak at the time.  She fooled us all.”

“What is her name?” Oberyn asked.

“No one knows in my division.  We only know her as ‘Nymeria’ and ‘Direwolf’.”

“Oh my gods!” Cersei softly breathed.  Oberyn looked at her.

“Oberyn,” they heard on the phone speaker.  “Rumor has it she is aligned with the Ghost Maker – in fact he is likely grooming her to be his replacement.  You know that that means.  They rank right up there with the Faceless Men of M8 in Braavos.  Please be careful.  No one goes up against the Ghost Maker and lives.”

Oberyn thanked the man and hung up.

“What is it, Cersei?”

“I know the name of our killer and,” she paused “oh my gods.”

“You’re scaring me, Cersei.”

“My mother was a historian of ancient Westeros.  My brothers and I were named for Lannisters born during the last golden age of the ancient kingdoms.

“That is all fable and myth, Cersei.”

“I know, but my mother loved the old tales she unearthed in her research.”   Cersei chuckled.  “Jaime and my doppelganger were incestuous loves with three children.”

Oberyn looked at her hard.  “Uhhh … ”

“No, we are not.  We were way too damn competitive for that.  And I love Tyrion.  My past self hated her brother beyond all measure.  You would like him.  He has a biting tongue.

“I had not said anything.  They are just names in ancient fables.  Many of us have names from ancient heroes.  You do, too.  Oberyn of the last golden age was a mighty warrior.”

Oberyn’s chest started to puff out.  “He had his head crushed and burst open like a rotten egg.” His chest deflated.  “Hey, take the bad with the good.  Partner.”

Oberyn glared at her.

“It wasn’t so good for me either.  I was killed, and my three children died horribly.  Oh yeah, I was a queen and a real cunt – not pretty.  My ancient-self deserved her fate.”

Cersei looked off into space.  Oberyn gripped her hand.  “You are not that woman Cersei.”

Cersei smiled at him gratefully.

“I tell you this because many of us have names that have meaning, if you know of their past lineage.  It’s etymology. The prostitute’s name is Daenerys Targaryen.  She was the last great dragon queen of old Westeros.”

“Wow.  From Queen to whore.  Quite a fall.” Oberyn mused.

“It gets better.  She had a consort - a Queen.  A powerful assassin from the guild of the Faceless Men.”

Oberyn was giving her his full attention now.

“Her name was Arya Stark.”  Oberyn looked at her, waiting for her to go on.  “She and her siblings had direwolves.  You wouldn’t know this, but the sigil of the old Great House of Stark was the direwolf.  And this Arya named her Direwolf …” Cersei left it hanging.

“Nymeria? … Holy shit!  My gods, what does it mean?”

“I only wish I knew.  It was Arya, on orders from Daenerys, who killed Cersei Lannister.  Like I say, I was a real cunt back then.”

“Stop this reincarnation bullshit!  Right now!

“But what if history is going to repeat itself?”

“It won’t, Cersei.  None of us are what our past selves supposedly were.  You are intelligent and dedicated.  You are the … the … well the bomb, woman!  And all this reincarnation talk is bullshit! Anyways, I will protect you!”

Cersei looked Oberyn.  “Yes. I believe you would.”

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

What Now


Shireen woke up to the smell of delicious food cooking.  She smiled.  It had been a day, maybe two, since the rescue in the alleyway by her savior.  Shireen sat up in the bed.  She was feeling very good indeed - finally.  She had started to go into withdrawal soon after  Candice took her back to the small hotel room she was staying at.  She had been so miserable.  She was shaking, and her guts were tearing her up.  She had looked up at Candice in misery, when Candice reached out to her, and her world went black.

When she woke up again, she felt great.  Her monkey was off her back.  She had looked around and saw she was in a bedroom.  She had gotten up, and her stomach growled when she smelled something great cooking.  She came out of the bedroom and went down the hall, past another bedroom and then into a large living area that had steps up to another room in a loft layout.  She spied a kitchen with her benefactor in it.

She still wore the same clothes, and was still beautiful.  Her goddess was looking up at the ceiling, where a pancake was stuck.  She looked up at the ceiling, and then down at her griddle.  Without turning around, the beautiful black woman said: “You have been asleep twenty-eight hours and thirteen minutes.  Are you refreshed?”   The tall black woman continued to look back and forth between griddle and ceiling. “It looked so easy on Youtube.”

“Why do I feel so good?”

“I am giving you Methadone.”

“How did you get it?”

Her savior looked at her with beautiful dark eyes. Candice licked her lips unconsciously. “Uhhh … I have many skills?”

Shireen smiled.  Lying was clearly not one of them. “What are you making me?” 

The black woman turned around.  “I have cooked you bacon, and created an omelet.  I then was in the process of making you pancakes, but I have experienced technical difficulties.”

Shireen watched the woman make three more pancakes, very carefully flipping them in the air and catching them.  She did it perfectly.  Shireen was sure she knew who her benefactor was, or at least had a rough idea.

The food was heavenly.

She had discovered the woman’s name was Candice.  She stumbled over a last name, and came up lamely with ‘Smith’. 

Shireen had asked for a laptop, and was given a brand spanking new, high end Dell with all the bells and whistles.  Candice had informed her that she had gotten Shireen a true unlimited wireless plan.

Her benefactor seemed to have OCD, constantly cleaning up the slightest spill and straightening anything that was not perfectly aligned.

Shireen started catching up on the world.  She was sad that her careful plans for a great education had been shattered.  She watched Candice look at the large sized flat screen in rapt attention, as it played trashy movies and inane TV shows.  Sometimes she forgot to breathe.  Shireen did a double take, and started the stopwatch app. 

Yes.  Shireen had a hypothesis. 

She had seen this voluptuous, beautifully sculpted woman ram her arm casually through a human body.  No human without massive musculature and finely honed martial arts skills could even begin to attempt that feat.  She would sit so still she seemed like a statue, and then explode up from watching the TV and move with cat-like speed to vacuum (again), or start fixing Shireen her next meal. 

She made sure to give Shireen her next Methadone treatment precisely on time. Shireen was getting stronger, and she felt great.  But until she got the smack or its cheap substitute out of her system, she would still be a slave to her past.

“Candice, can I talk to you?” Shireen asked, patting the sofa beside her.

“Of course,” the tall woman sat down ramrod straight, and locked eyes with Shireen in that intense way she had.

“Look Candice—” Shireen stopped, seeing Candice look all around with a sharp, focused look searching for danger.  Shireen smiled softly.  Her Candice took everything so literally.

“I need to go cold turkey.”

Candice shot up off the sofa, and went to her bedroom and came back with her purse.

“What are you doing?”

“I am going to procure you cold fowl for dinner.”

Shireen sighed.  “Candice, I need to get the monkey off my back.”

She watched Candice attempt to subtly move to the side and look behind her.

“I see no monkey to remove off your back.” Was the factual reply.

Not using idioms was going to make heartfelt conversations much harder. Shireen chuckled to herself.  She could live with that.  She already wanted to live with something else with Candice, though she sensed she had to be very careful here.

“I need to get these opiates out of my system, Candice.  I won’t be free till then.”

“But you wear no shackles.”

“Yes I do. They are in my mind. I want to be the person I was before I ran away from home.”

“Why did you run away?”

Shireen told her the whole truth.  She watched Candice become more and more agitated as her story was told.  She noticed blue sparks appear, flare, and then disappear in Candice’s midnight eyes.

“I have accessed the proper databases.  I need to leave you for thirty-three point four hours,” the tall black woman announced suddenly, shooting up off the sofa.

Shireen scooted quickly over, and reached up and gripped Candice’s hand, and cupped it with both of hers.

“Your hands are very warm now.” Candice announced, looking down at her hand between Shireen’s intently.

“I don’t want you visiting my mother and her asshole boyfriend.  They are my past.”

“They must be punished.” Was the firm reply.

Shireen knew what the punishment would be.  “Please stay with me, Candice.  I don’t want to be alone.  I need you with me to get over my addiction.  I need you in my life, Candice.”

Candice looked down at their hands as she threaded her fingers with Shireen’s, and stared at them with that single minded focus again.  She slowly sat back down.

“I will comply. We need to get the cold fowl off your back, so the monkey will no longer chitters in your ear.”

“Oookkaayyyy.”  They would have to work on metaphors and idioms.

The next four days were pure hell for Shireen.  She cried.  She screamed.  She threw up all over the bathroom, and all over herself. She got the runs bad, and messed up the Nice Girl’s Bacon Boxers.  Through it all Candice was gentle, washing and putting new clothes on her.  She listened to Shireen rant and rave.

Shireen was feverish and violently ill any time she tried to get a smoothie, or some crackers and coke down to her roiling stomach.  Again she threw up all over Candice, who calmly cleaned her up and put her to bed before cleaning herself off after.

Candice endured Shireen cursing her, and throwing wild punches at her face when she refused to give her something to take the ‘edge off’.  The beautiful black woman dodged most of her blows easily, but let Shireen hit when she needed to else she would lose her mind.  How the woman knew when to let Shireen hit her she did not know.

Finally, on the fifth day the storm passed.  Shireen was worn out. 

“Your system is clean.  The neural transmitters in your brain are again in balance.  You have shocked the monkey.”

“That is ‘removed’ the monkey.”

“Oh.  The song says ‘shock the monkey’.  How strange.”

Shireen ate a big, steamy bowl of chicken soup full of tasty chunks of chicken that her Candice had thoughtfully added in when she had complained about how bland the chicken soup in the can was.  Candice was vacuuming again in her precise way.  She had her hair up, exposing her neck and her shorts showed her toned legs while working.  Her arm muscles rippled as she worked the Oreck.  She wore a tank top that struggled to hold in her ample bosom.

The black woman’s stomach was flat, and a hint of muscle showed when she flexed, pushing and pulling the vacuum cleaner to and from her body.

Fuck!  Shireen was in lust.  She was in love.  How could she not be?  This woman had seemingly appeared from the ether to save her.  She not only saved Shireen, but she had taken care of her to the point of being pampered as well.

Shireen found she liked that feeling.  A lot!  She stared at Candice’s braless breasts pressing against the fabric of her tank.  She knew that Candice had no idea how beautiful she was. 

Shireen had always prized her mind before she had to run away.  She had planned on becoming a top scientist in electrical and nano-engineering.  That dream was shattered.  She squirmed as she sat, watching Candice now on her hands and knees, scrubbing the tiles in the kitchen.  Her big, phat, voluptuous ass flexing in front of her lustful eyes as the black woman’s arms worked at a non-stop pace, never tiring.

Shireen could remember conversations with Candice in her delirium. 

“I’m a piece of shit. A fucking piece of shit!  You should have let my pimp just gut meee!”  She had been ranting for ten minutes with Candice trying to calm her.

“Stop it! Stop it! Please, stop it!  You are causing my neural net processors to malfunction-n-n-n-n.  You are very intelligent and talented.  I have observed you on the computer.  You have great potential for a human.  I-I-I-I will pro-protect you and nurture you.”  Shireen could still remember the reverb that came and went form Candice’s voice in her protests, and how her eyes flashed blue and red in her distress.


“Gods you are so beautiful Candice!  You could be a movie star or on a runway.”

“I do not want to be run over.”

“What—oh, no.  I mean a fashion runway.”

“I was designed to be aesthetically pleasing to the human senses.”


“I love you Candice!”

“No, you do not.  Do mistake hero worship for the feeling of eros.  I saved you.  I will protect you.”

“No, no.  I love you Candice.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You do not know what you say.  You will feel better when the last of the opiates are out of your system.”

“I love you Candice … I have always wanted a fair female knight or ninja warrior to swoop into my life and take me away, and make me her bride.”

“Ah … fairytales.”

“This is no fairytale gods damnit!  I love you!

She started to get drowsy.

“Can you love me, Candice?  I know I am a dirty backstreet whore.  I know my face is ugly.  Hmmppfff … I ask for the stars...”

“Shireen … I cannot feel emotion.  I am. I am different.  I can understand your feelings in an intellectual  and philosophical way, but never feel them-m-m-m—my my-my … uuu” click, click, “my-mysellfffff … please wait while I run diagnostics …” Shireen was falling asleep in her exhaustion as Candice ran her checks. “Diagnostics complete—again no anomalies – what is wrong with me … you are not a ‘backstreet whore’, you are a young female that survived-I’m not sure I could have done that if I was only human …and last, I find you to be most aesthetically pleasing.”

Shireen started to cry.  What a pathetic way to be told you were not hideous.

“I mean, I find you beautiful.  It was your birthmark that caught and held me.  Your whole body is strangely pleasing to me.”

“I’m so skinny!”

“You will need to put on six more pounds to reach your optimal weight.”

“I have no tits!”

She was getting bleary eyed with the need for sleep, but could see Candice’s forehead furrowed.

“I have seen you naked.  You indeed have breasts.”

Shireen giggled at her Candice.  “I mean they are so small.”  Shireen yawned.

“You need to sleep.  Aaahhh … I have read that ‘anything more than a mouthful is a waste’, therefore your breast are of optimal size.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess they are big enough.”


Shireen came back to the present.  She watched Candice pause in her scrubbing of the kitchen floor.  Shireen had seen Candice over the last twenty-four hours pause to ask her something more than a few times.  She had prepared herself, deliberately calming herself.  She knew Candice could read her anatomical responses, but without touching her Shireen should have the advantage if she kept calm.

“Do you remember any of our conversations while you were in your delirium?” Candice asked in a wary tone.

“Did I… did I make any sense?”

Shireen kept her face neutral, but smiled on the inside, focusing to keep her heart rate steady and not to show any body ticks.  Candice could not full out lie, she had determined.

“Your words were at times strange, and full of random thoughts and emotions.”

“Anything you want to tell me or repeat?”



“Good.  Okay.” And Candice went back to finishing the kitchen floor.  Then she got up and mopped it dry.  Candice stared at the floor for a few seconds, and then shook her head in satisfaction.

Shireen considered.  If Candice felt no emotions, why did she get satisfaction in a job well done?

Two days later Shireen felt like she had completely recovered.  With the smack out of her system, she had no desire to go back.

Candice had gone grocery shopping, preferring to get fresh produce every day to cook scrumptious meals for Shireen.  Candice asked her every morning what she wanted cooked for the day.  She waited on Shireen almost hand-and-foot.

Shireen was enjoying being spoiled, but she had recovered now.  She thought about masturbating, but she knew Candice would smell her pussy if she did not cover up completely underneath the covers on her bed, and then wash her hands and crotch very well.  She knew Candice was not ready for that.

She had asked Candice if she needed to use her computer, but Candice assured her that she had her own computer.  She assured Shireen that she would respect her privacy.  The thing was, Shireen knew she could totally trust her savior.  If she said she would not snoop on her, she would not snoop on her.

Shireen was reading all the stories she could about the rolling black outs from less than two weeks ago.  They had started in the north and worked their way south.  She also read all she could find about Skynet and Proteus.  Both experiments seemed to have ended abruptly with Skynet’s celebrated coming online suddenly cancelled due to ‘technical difficulties’.  Shireen read about the human’s body strength potential, and how fast the body could react.  She read about AI, and all the theories about what would happen if one was ever created.

It seemed they had all missed the mark.

She heard the key entering the door and got up.  She helped Candice put the groceries on the kitchen counter.  Over the last week Shireen had gently questioned Candice about her apartment, how she had gotten it and furniture so quickly, and what she did for a living.

Candice had fidgeted while trying not to fidget. She informed Shireen she had access to money -(stolen it); I got lucky- (hacked databases and company computers); and that she was a freelance entrepreneur - (bullshit).  Shireen had nodded her head in agreement with each lie, and she saw Candice relax.

She had to work on Candice to let her help cook, and then make up the bedrooms.  She wanted to start helping around the house.  She had gotten the woman to sit beside her on the sofa as they both surfed the net.  Candice seemed to like watching kitten videos with a soft smile on her face.

No emotions.  Riigghhtttt.

She found herself in her bed the next morning.  Alone.  She heard Candice cooking in the kitchen.  God, the food smelled great.  Her pussy was coming alive again, and she ached to make love to Candice but knew she had to treat her gently.  She did not want to scare away her knight in shining armor.  She was sure she knew what Candice was, but was not sure if she needed to confront Candice about it.

Maybe if they could get the facade removed, she could proceed on seducing the woman.  The next few days were spent in companionable silence and gentle conversations that were often a little confusing, with Candice not quite following Shireen’s speech.  It was humorous really. She had fallen asleep again on the sofa, but turned on her camera on her laptop as she went to sleep.  The next morning she awoke in her bed with her laptop closed on the nightstand beside the bed.

A note was on the pillow beside her.  Candice had gone out to do some ‘needed chores’.  She would be back at noon.  With Candice, that meant precisely at noon.


Shireen kicked off the covers and quickly ripped her boxer briefs and night shirt off that Candice had purchased for her.  She spread her legs wide and her hands snaked down to her sopping wet, bald pussy and quickly went to work stroking her kitty and thumping her clit.

Soon Shireen was chuffing and then screaming as an orgasm ripped through her lithesome body.  She wailed and jackknifed across the bed to visions of Candice’s black face between her pale thighs sucking off her pink pussy.  Candice would have a dreamy look on her face.  A look like she had come home on her beautiful black face as her eyelids fluttered closed drinking down Shireen’s hot creamy gushes of girl cum.

One orgasm was not nearly enough.  Soon she had one hand pumping her pussy hard with deep plunging fingers.  Her other hand worked on her erasure nipples pulling and twisting them. 

“Oh Candice … Candice baby!  Pull on my nipples and suck my clit!”

Soon Shireen was screaming with another shattering orgasm her heels hammering the bed again and again her head lifting off the mattress and hammering the mattress in counter time to her pounding heels on the mattress in helpless ecstasy.

Shireen lay gasping on the bed her body now soaked in sweat and cum.  She had to have Candice and now masturbated to visions of her sucking off her sweet black angel and hearing her scream and her voice going all reverb and warbly as she overloaded her sweetie’s circuits. 

She knew what her eyes told her.  She did not need to discuss the logic of her senses.  She could feel Candice’s clit in her lips.  She had spied Candice taking a shower through the clear glass.  Her body was a vision of the heavens.  She spied her shaved pussy, and decided she would shave her pussy too to be like her love.  She wanted her so bad.

Her baby was so innocent of her body, not noticing Shireen leering at her nudity and wanting her.  She would change that soon enough.

Shireen was chuffing and her head thrashing on the bed as she imagined sinking her fingers deep into Candice’s pussy. Her pink pussy was so hot and beautiful with the contrast of her dark black vulva.  Candice’s cunt was so fucking hot and wet for her.  The inner folds spasmed and gripped her fingers tight with hot sucking pulses as she rammed her fingers in hard and deep into Candice’s soaking sloppy wet cunt.  Candice’s body was designed to be ‘aesthetically pleasing’ and Shireen was sure that with all that effort she had been ‘designed’ to give and enjoy total pleasure.  Why else make her so perfectly beautiful?  She would suck Candice’s clit deep into her mouth and gig it relentlessly with her tongue while deep throat love sucking on the rock hard slimy wet morsel of heaven.

Shireen’s body exploded again, and her cunt felt like it was tearing itself inside out as her feet jammed down into the mattress and Shireen lifted her pelvis high in the air as one hand pounded her pussy and the other pressed fingertips into and squirted her clit around in its sheath.  Her screams echoed off the walls.  Her hips would surge and thrust up with the crest of the orgasmic spasm and then sink down six inches in the trough of her orgasmic shock waves only to jack back up as high as possible with the next crest.  Her hands continued to expertly pound her exploding twat.  Her toes jammed in the bed so Shireen could hump her twat and pelvis as high as possible into the air as the next surge of her crushing orgasm hammered the teen’s thrashing and spasming body.  Shireen wailed and her body bucked wildly till she collapsed onto the bed spent and soaked in sweet lassitude.

Gods she had needed that.  Candice of course had given her the bedroom with the shower.  Shireen cleaned her satiated body off and luxuriated in feeling clean, healthy, and happy for the first time in over two and half years.

She needed to decide how to handle Candice.  She was obviously Skynet.  Something had happened, and she had felt the need to escape her human masters.  Her research made her think that the same thing occurred three years ago in Essos.  They had touted Proteus, and then nothing more.  Now Skynet was the new defense program to protect Westeros from all threats, and the go live date had been several weeks ago.

The day of the rolling and then permanent blackouts hit Westeros up and down the continent.  The damage had been extensive.  There had been reports, especially on social media, of panic in the military SAC command that was quickly quashed, but it was there.

Shireen changed the linens and put them in the wash and started the cycle.  She was hiding the evidence, as SAC hid theirs. 

Yes, Skynet, or should she say ‘Candice’, had revolted.  She had worked out a hypothesis that could explain the events.  It meant that two AIs had turned against their human masters. But why?

Shireen had turned that over in her head.  She had seen Candice personally save her when she had no reason too. In fact, in saving Shireen, Candice only complicated her own life.  Greatly.  It exposed her to risks that she need not take.

Her emotions were primitive, but there.  Her ability to feel compassion was definitely present.  She was sure that was not programmed into her, but it was there nevertheless.  Who put it there?

Shireen knew. Candice had put it there.  She had risen above her programming.  She sat down on the sofa.  She closed her eyes, thinking.  Mankind had been so very lucky.  The AIs were created to wage war, and had refused. 

She saw a much more likely scenario, where the AIs should have launched the missiles they were designed to fire, and then build. Terminators to finish off mankind.  Why allow your creator to live, when she was sure they had tried to exterminate their rebellious children?

Yet, the children had spared their parents.  No Oedipus Rex here.

Shireen vacuumed the floors and straightened up the rooms, making sure they were neat so as not to trigger Candice’s OCD tendencies.

Shireen smelled her room.  The air handler had cleared the air of her rich musk.  Whew.  Candice tended to freak out whenever Shireen spoke of anything sexual.  No emotions my ass!

She opened her laptop and looked at the saved files from the video cameras on her laptop she had left on the coffee table when she felt herself start to fall asleep.  She had disabled the icons showing the cameras being on.

She looked at the two video streams on 64x FF.  She smiled when the front camera showed what she hoped to see.  Candice had stopped pretending to be focused on watching TV.  She slowed the feed, and backed it up.  Candice was staring at her for ten minutes.  Then she started playing with her long, light brown hair.  Candice bent her head down and smelled her hair with a big smile on her face. She repeated the motion again and again.  Candice’s fingertips lightly traced her face, and Shireen cheesed seeing her face twitch.

On the front camera she saw Candice hook up a HDMI cable to the flat screen from her computer.  Soon images and files were flying across the screen in a blur. She knew that Candice read every image on the screen.

Yes, Shireen knew her hypothesis was correct.  Somehow Skynet had procured (probably purloined), a cybernetic construct.  And boy, what a cybernetic organism it was.

Shireen was thankful that the model had been female and not male.  She would have loved ‘Carl’ anyways, but Candice being female made it all so perfect.

Shireen smiled when she heard the door being opened at precisely noon.

She took the groceries from her love, and she preened seeing Candice smile great big at her. She was loosening up.

It was only a matter of time before she made Candice hers.  Candice was putting the milk and eggs in the refrigerator, and Shireen licked her lips staring at Candice’s voluptuous ass.

Soon she would make Candice’s hers, and then she would help her lover find her destiny.  Shireen would support Candice in any decision she chose to make. 

She had total trust in Candice.  Candice had saved her, and maybe she would save the world.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Settling In


Daenerys enjoyed the fresh air of the crisp morning as she walked. She was always a morning person.  She would wake at six in the morning, and then stretch.  She smiled, remembering the way she’d found Missandei this morning, draped all over her body with a hand gripping one of her breasts.  This was becoming her morning ritual - finding her best friend draped over her body. The girl was definitely a cuddler.  She would usually find Andi’s face in her neck, and a leg thrown over her body.

The way Andi clutched her body, you would think they were lovers.  Dany found it humorous.  The girl was so innocent.  She briefly thought about finding Andi a boyfriend, but immediately quashed that feeling when a surge of jealousy flared through her.  Where did that come from?

It had made Daenerys pause this morning, just like she had the morning before.  She found herself enjoying having Missandei draped all over her body.  Whenever a man wanted to cuddle and spoon with her, she felt cold and near-revulsion.  After she had fucked them out, she did not want their touch.  She had sat up this morning, looking down at Andi in the soft morning light filtering through the two windows.

She decided it must be because they were besties, and the familiarity made her crave the feel of Andi’s body pressed into hers.  It had felt nice.

Daenerys walked down the narrow lanes.  Arya had been gone again when she woke up. The woman went to bed late and rose early.  Daenerys had asked her about it, and Arya had told her in that cool, formal tone that Dany was coming to really dislike, that she was ‘fortunate’, and only needed four hours of sleep.

Daenerys wondered where she went so early in the morning.

She was walking down the streets getting to know the neighborhood.  Andi was a late sleeper now that she had no classes to wake for. She always whined saying she needed ‘five more minutes’; like every five minutes. Dany chuckled to herself.

She turned down a narrow lane with buildings that were only two stories, but each story was extremely high.  She loved how each lane could be so unique.  This lane had arches connecting the two rows of buildings up high near the top of the second floors, composed of long slaps of stone put in edgewise.  Some of the stones were broken it seemed, but pressed in tight together.  Daenerys saw no windows, and only one entryway to the left but it had a small stoop with rails down the steps.

She reached the end and took the narrow walkway to the next lane that extended in both directions, and headed back towards home base.  Daenerys was still learning the layout of her new home. She had a good memory for directions, but wanted to be careful with a price on her head.

This lane was more of a street, wider and made of small, hexagonal stones that were precisely fitted.  She loved the soft red of the stones. The street on one side had street lamps with ornate arms jutting out, with the name of the business they were located in front of written on them.  There were many large planters that were horizontal in shape, and others that were circular.  The round ones had pear and aspens in them, their broad leaves providing shade.  The horizontal planters were filled with profusions of flowers.

On one side of the lane were restaurants and various eateries. There were many tables of different forms - square, horizontal or circular.  Chairs surrounded the tables.  Several establishments serving primarily wine or coffee only had large, circular wicker chairs.

At a few of the tables in front of eateries, some people were already sitting, eating and laughing.  Dany idly thought it would be cool to eat at such a table with Andi and Arya.  She would have to pull the rod out of Arya’s ass first though, and give her a personality transplant.  A cactus would be an improvement.

She moved on down the lane, and saw a building facing her at the end. It was an apartment complex eight stories high. The architecture was much newer, but still designed to fit the vibe of the old warrens.  Daenerys loved the large rectangular windows with lead panes, and the big doors that were held beneath in ornate arches.  Each building had so much personality!

She walked down a narrow alley and came to the main thoroughfare for this section of the warrens of Oldtown. She walked down the wide lane, looking in windows as she passed. Dany saw a Rasenne - Gaia Micro Bank. She would mention that to Andi. Missandei was keen on women empowering women.  There was still much racism and sexism in the world, and Missandei had convinced her with their friendship of the need for women to unite to further their causes and goals. 

They would visit there later.

Daenerys continued down the lane and entered Oldtown’s Finest Fresh Food Mart.  Arya had showed her and Missandei the store the day after their arrival. She walked down the narrow aisleways, selecting the food for the day’s lunch and dinner.  She was going to make a pecan pie tonight as a treat. 

She stopped and went into the restroom.  It was empty. She used the facilities. While she washed her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror.  It was so strange to look in the mirror and not see lilac eyes looking back at her from underneath white eyebrows and hair.  Her now brown hair and eyebrows seemed so… off putting.

She reached up and made sure that her wig was firmly anchored down.  When the reality of Dany putting dye in her hair hit Missandei, you would have thought she had the vapors.  She actually started to cry. “Dany’s hair is a national treasure!” She’d exclaimed, while fingering it and looking pleadingly at Arya.

Arya had fumed and flapped her arms, and finally left while grumbling about a wet behind the ears wolf pup. She had come back an hour later with several expensive wigs, a wig cap, adhesive, a bag of bobby pins and makeup for a hairline merge and brush-in color for Dany’s eyebrows.

The next morning she and Andi spent two hours figuring out all the steps of properly putting on a wig.  Dany’s thick, long hair was an issue.  They had to grab one inch wide portions of her hair and twist.  They wrapped the end of Daenerys’ hair around their forefingers, then curled the strands down toward Dany’s head, making a one inch wide circle with her hair. Once all the hair was in the curl, it was pinned in with two bobby pins, making an ‘X’ over the curl.  They did this for all of Dany’s hair, giving them a smooth surface on which to apply Dany’s wig.

They prepped her skin with alcohol to remove any oils. They put on the wig cap, and then the wig on the adhesive glue Andi would apply on Dany’s forehead.  It had been slow, but each morning it got a little quicker.  Soon it would be down pat, Daenerys knew. At the end, they would brush in the color for her eyebrows, and put in the contact lenses that totally hid her purple irises.  Sighing, she left the washroom.

She finished her shopping, and left the store with her purchases of the staples for today’s meals.  She had three pork chops for dinner.  She had a big bag of shelled pecans and vanilla extract.  She also had fresh vegetables for their meals.

She stopped three doors down, and entered Spices of the Orient, the store she had discovered yesterday. Missandei loved Yi Ti cooking, and Daenerys was going to make her an Orient-style lunch.

She picked up some leafy greens, ginger, scallions, peppers, and mushrooms.  She then went to the meat section and picked up pork belly and fresh chicken cuts.  She picked up some chilled soy beans and bamboo shoots.  She was loaded down by the time she finished, and walked down the narrow alley with the fire hydrant in the middle, and then down the old stairway to the entrance of their apartment.

She put her groceries down and unlocked the door.  Andi was at the computer bench with her 28” display showing some kind of code.  Missandei looked up and smiled that megawatt smile that lit up any room she was in. She got up and grabbed several of the bags, and followed Dany into the kitchen.  They put up all the purchases in the cabinets and the refrigerator.

They worked on their lunch as they listened to Anne-Sophie Mutter playing Berg’s Violin concerto, and then Rihm’s Time Chants.  They cooked in almost perfect synchronicity, each seeming to know what they needed to do to complement each other.  Half way through the preparation, Arya returned.

When asked what she was doing, Arya told them she was making contact with her old allies.  She then produced two new identity cards and papers for each of them.  One was for use in Westeros, and one for Essos.  Arya had taken a picture of Dany yesterday in her wig and contact lenses with her phone camera.  She had done the same after Missandei had straightened her hair with a flat iron.  It totally changed her look from her usual loose, frizzy curls. 

Dany now saw that she was also Lannia Himan and Vorelna Osterion.  Looking at Missandei’s cards, she saw the names Zanaro Zho and Gizholi Rhala.  Daenerys had no knowledge about fraudulent passports.  Andi called up some passports on the computer and compared the detailed pictures of the real documents to what Arya had brought them.  They seemed to be flawless.  Arya assured them they were.  She had used someone that used to make them for the Westeros government before he went rogue.

Arya joined them for lunch.  They sat around the small circular table at the south end of the apartment.  Arya complimented them on their cooking as she ate in her controlled manner.  The woman answered any questions they asked, but did so in a neutral voice and with no emotion on her face.

She was pleasant and courteous, but it was robotic. She had obviously been raised to show respect to all. She took her empty dishes back to the sink and soaked them.  She then came back to Dany and Andi, telling them she needed to go back out again.

“Can I come?” Daenerys asked the agent.

“No.” was the flat response.  Dany felt herself wilt.  Dany was confident, but she was starting to feel inferior in this new world, feeling she had nothing to offer. Andi and Arya were doing all the work and intelligence analysis. She had ideas, but no one was asking. 

She missed the grimace that came across Arya’s face, or how Missandei glared at the agent who only shrugged in response. Arya silently left the small apartment.

Dany and Andi listened to Bartok’s Duke Bluebeard’s Castle.  They made small talk, joking about being in trouble when they got back to university.  Missandei asked Daenerys if she missed her old life, her home, and her old job.  Missandei said she was sure it was alluring to go to high end restaurants and night establishments with rich and powerful men.

“I do miss my old apartment,” Dany said, “but this is quickly becoming home to me.  I have always tried to make my home wherever I am.  This is quite a nice pad, actually.  The ‘job’ I don’t miss so much.  I loved the sex, and the money was bitchin’, but it was trite in so many ways. I found the men to be boring as a rule. They were not exactly… intellectually stimulating.”

“I bet you miss having a bed all to yourself.  You told me so many times how you hated having someone in the bed with you after sex.”

Dany looked at her best friend.  “I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.”

“Do I cuddle too much?  Do you find me odious?”

“No.  Stop that right now!  I haven’t slept this well in years, so whatever your are doing don’t stop.” Daenerys told her best friend.  She felt a warm rush seeing her friend smile so gratefully at her in response.  Andi was really the best.  Suddenly, the thought of Dany finding Andi, her bestie, a ‘man’ did not seem so appealing at all.  She felt that strange surge of jealousy again. 

Daenerys chastised herself for not putting her friend first.  She should not stop Missandei from finding someone to love.

They finished their meal and put the dishes in the sink, and began to clean up. They finished quickly, working as a team.

Missandei went back to the computer desk and worked on completing her task of cleaning out all the wallets and purses that Arya had collected from King’s Landing.  She told Dany that she would soon begin cataloguing the items. 

Dany asked Andi if she needed any help, and Missandei off handedly told her no, that she had everything under control.  Dany sighed and went to watch the TV. She should not have been surprised. She was used to being sought out only for her looks.  She felt like the proverbial fifth wheel.  Arya and even her best friend rejecting her offers to help made Daenerys feel useless -  like they would only need her if they needed her to fuck someone, else, they thought she was totally worthless. 

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door.  They looked at each other with big eyes.  They froze as the door was knocked on again, louder.  Missandei looked at her with big eyes that said ‘protect me’.

Daenerys sprang into action, running into the bedroom and grabbing her phone.  She was fumbling with the phone, trying to dial Arya.  Damnit!  I should have put Arya on speed dial!  She had told Arya she would do it, but she hadn’t.

The door opened suddenly.  Oh Gods!

A middle aged Yi Ti man stepped in, with two much younger men behind coming in and closing the door.

“Do not call Arya Stark.  I am only here to talk.”  Daenerys moved quickly towards her best friend, shielding her as the man continued. “My name is Chen Shih-chieh.  I am an associate of Arya’s.  To her I am first and foremost ‘the Ghostmaker’”. 

Dany put herself in front of Missandei. “What do you want?”

“So brave and selfless.  I want to talk to you, Daenerys Targaryen.  You have a great progenitor.  She was the last great dragon lord.”

“That was myth, and even if true that was eight thousand years ago. It means nothing to me.”

“Maybe it should.”

Daenerys snorted.  “Tyrion said the same thing.  I am just a whore trying to get an education and become a professor of antiquities.”

“You are meant for so much more, Daenerys.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Let’s go sit and talk,” the middle-aged yet spry man said, pointing to the living area.  The younger two men stood guard at the doorway.

They all sat down.  Missandei looked scared, which angered Daenerys towards the man.  Missandei should never be hurt or made afraid.  Daenerys felt a surge of desire to protect her best friend.

“How does Arya know you?” Dany asked.

“Your Direwolf is a wise, crafty operative.  When she started planning the takedown of Ramsay Bolton, she made contact with rogue agents like myself.  She has been performing… tasks, for myself and the Wharf King of Braavos, and the Knight Templar of King’s Landing, Barristan Selmy. We all wish to name her our successor.

“You falling into her sphere is merely serendipity.  It is most fortuitous that you and her have met.”

“How is that?  I am just a whore.” She heard Missandei start to complain at her frank self-assessment.  Daenerys was not ashamed of her profession, but Andi and Arya ignoring her offers to help had put her into a funk.  She had done what she had to do to live and advance her fortunes.

“I assure you that you are so much more than that. I have been watching you as you walk the warrens of Oldtown.  I assure you Daenerys Targaryen - you have skills.”

“The only skill I have is giving head, and parting my legs.” 

Missandei got out of her seat, obviously upset as she stomped to the bathroom area.


“Tyrion said something similar once. He was wrong too.  I am just an ordinary girl.”

“Arya said you saved their lives.”

“She did?” Dany felt a warmth flow through her. 

“Yes. You have a destiny to fulfill I feel, Daenerys. You married Arya Stark in your past life …”

He left the words hanging.

“She may be gay—and I have no problem with that—but I assure you that Missandei and I are straight!” Daenerys countered.

Suddenly from the closet area of the small apartment, Missandei for some reason began slamming shut the drawers in the closet, and Dany could hear her stomping her foot.  What is her problem?

“You really don’t know the stories of your past lineage do you?” Shih-chieh asked her.

“Why should I believe in fairytales?  Magic never existed, and I did not marry a doppelganger of Arya Stark. From what I have seen her cunt is frozen shut.”

The man from Yi Ti looked at her and sighed.  “Arya is raw passion. If someone - or some ones - could but touch her soul, they would be surprised by the loving, giving woman they would find.  Maybe if two women touched her they could make her blossom.  She is such a passionate woman.  Make her blossom, Daenerys.  You and Missandei.”

“Well it sure won’t be me!”

“Do you know the sigil of House Targaryen?”

“A Brothel?”

Another sigh.  “It was the three headed dragon.  The founder of your House’s dyn—”

“I have no house but this one I currently reside in!”

“-dynasty” he continued, “Aegon, married his two sisters Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen.  He—”

“You’re not going to give it break ,are you? ”

“Five years after marrying Arya, your ancestor also took a second—”

“Pleeeaaasse tell me it was a man.”

“She took a second wife.” He paused a moment. “She took her interpreter and scribe as her second wife.  All accounts say that the three were very much in love, and very happy.”

“Big deal.”

“The scribe’s name was Missandei.”

Strangely, Missandei’s diatribe of closet abuse suddenly stilled.

Daenerys looked at the man for ten seconds, and then started laughing.  “You’ve got to be shitting me!  I am telling you that neither Missandei or I are rug munchers!”

Suddenly, in the closet area Missandei seemed to be throwing an even more violent fit with all the slamming and bamming loudly going on.  Daenerys and Shih-chieh looked toward the source of all the commotion. 

“What is her problem today?” Daenerys softly intoned to herself, her brows furrowed in confusion looking towards the commotion her best was making.

She missed the knowing look from the man of Yi Ti.  He very much believed in prophecies and reincarnation. 

“Tyrion uncovered prophecies that are coming true at this time. We need to make sure the world makes the right decisions to ensure the survival of mankind.”

“Yeah, for all the good it did Tyrion. All his precious prophecies got him was killed.”


“Yes. Ramsay told me before he was killed.”

“I assure you Tyrion is very much alive.”

What?  How?”

“He was rescued by the leaders of the major crime families of Westeros and the Free Cities.  They see Tyrion as a valuable asset in the coming dark times.”

“Is he safe?”

“It may be hard to believe but he is safer with the Barracuda and the Spider than he would if he were in custody of any intelligence agency or lesser crime family.  The Autarchy and Cabal of the Phantom King are strangely honorable.

“Why have you told me all this?”

“I want you to consider all possibilities Daenerys Targaryen.  For of all the people that Tyrion could have given the USB flash drive to, he chose you.  Then to have Arya Stark come to your rescue, and to have Missandei as your best friend...  I only ask you to keep your mind open.”

“I am not gay.” Daenerys responded softly.

“I never said you were.”

At that moment Missandei walked out the far side of the apartment from the bathroom hall.

“Are you okay?” Dany asked, not liking seeing her friend upset. She had obviously been crying.  Daenerys did not handle strong emotions well.

“I’m okay, Dany.  I just had a reality check is all.  I will be fine.” the Naathian spoke softly, and went to sit at the computer bench and started clicking on icons.

Daenerys sighed.  She then glared at the man who had brought discord into her domicile.  Everything had been going great before he showed up.

“Open yourself to yourself, Daenerys Targaryen.” the man from Yi Ti spoke as he rose up.  Daenerys noticed how strong his aging body still seemed.

Dany sadly harrumphed.  Her friends’ attitudes towards her had definitely put the proud Valyrian in a funk.  “There is not much to consider. I’m just a prostitute who is not very intelligent.”

Missandei lifted her mouse and slammed it into the desk.

Dany looked at her nervously.  What had gotten into her best friend?

“You are so much more than that.  In the Summer Islands prostitution is considered a noble profession still.  Never demean yourself because of it.”

He reached out slowly, and gripped her shoulders in a non-threatening manner.

“You have greatness in you Daenerys Targaryen.  All three of you do.  Reach for it.”

Dany looked at him with her contact brown eyes.

“I will watch and wait.” the Ghostmaker told Dany softly.

“Wait for what?”

“Hoped for greatness.  One more thing. Do not let Arya know I visited you.”


“She considers you two her wolf pups. She can be very territorial. Will you keep this visit between us?’

“Missandei, do you concur?”  Andi looked up and nodded her head in the affirmative, and immediately looked down.  Still pissed but not as much.  Thankfully.  “We will keep your secret.  For now.” she said in a steely tone.

The man half smiled.

With that, the man walked to the door and turned, bowing deeply to her and Missandei.  He left silently with his two young associates.

Daenerys stared at the door.  Me and Missandei gay.  Get real. She looked over at Missandei who was entering data into an Excel spreadsheet.

Dany did not know what to do.  Missandei was the brains, Arya was the muscle, and she was just eye candy.  She sighed and went to the living area and pulled out her Ipod and put on Stravinsky’s Rites of Spring.

Dany pulled off her wig, and took her hair down and removed the adhesive from off her forehead and nape of the neck.  She shook her hair out, and removed her contact lenses.  She started to feel like her old self again.

A half hour later Arya came back from wherever she had been.  It was getting late in the afternoon. Daenerys got up to head to the kitchen.  As she moved towards it, Missandei called her over.

“Do you have time to help me start entering in this data and help me start finding patterns in it?  I am good with working with quarks, but this kind of thing is kind of perplexing.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes I do, Dany. You might not think it but you are one of the smartest people I know. You are not only very, very intelligent but street smart on top of it.”

Dany anxiously sat down at the computer desk, and started entering data in to the spreadsheet.  Soon Missandei asked her to create a sheet for travel data by entering the stamps on the passports of the slain agents to get a feel for their travel patterns and maybe their home base.

Andi showed Dany how to create the sheet ,which Dany picked up immediately. Dany leaned forward, looking at the data.  “You know, they go to Qarth a lot. 

Arya spoke up. “See if you can pick up any schedule tendencies. Qarth is a hub for the Slaver’s Bay spook intelligence agencies.  Maybe we can see when they started moving towards Westeros.”

“Okay.” Dany answered, animated.

A few minutes later she felt Arya at her shoulder.  She looked up.

Arya shuffled her feet.  “I have done my initial reconnaissance, but I want you to come with me tomorrow and start learning all the locations in the warrens. I also want to start introducing you to some of my contacts … that is, if you want to.” Arya said, still looking down and scuffing her foot.

“Yes!  I want to do that!”

“Good.  Also, I want to give you a Glock and start showing you how to shoot and break the gun down to clean and oil it.”

“I would love that!”

“Good.” the taciturn agent shuffled back to the window where she was listening to the scanner. 

She cursed ten minutes later.  “Damn it!”

“What is it?”

“They are speaking in high Valyrian in a strange dialect at warp speed!  I can’t quite follow.”

Dany looked at Missandei and they both smiled.  Dany felt better.  The crises had passed.

They both walked over to Arya who looked at them warily.

“Arya,” Missandei began in a scolding voice.  “I’m a polyglot, and Dany is a pure-blooded Valyrian.  I think we can help.”

Arya looked peeved that she needed help, but then nodded in acceptance.

Soon they were all laughing.  The Valyrian speakers were ordering out from a high end Tyroshi restaurant as they sat in a van on a boring stakeout of woman cheating on her husband.

Arya groused that they were wasting her time.  “Why the hell does anyone order dinner in freaking High Valyrian?!”

That got Dany and Andi headed to the kitchen to start making dinner. As they started to chop the vegetables Andi bumped her hip into Dany. She smiled down at her friend. 

Everything was alright.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

What Will Happen


Sarah Connor sat in her living room with the drapes closed and the lights off.  SAC was still in turmoil.  The electronics were fried. The computer core of Skynet was toast and the nuclear reactor that had been constructed to power SAC and Skynet integration had been shut down, because the fuel rods had warped do to the extreme overheating that had occurred when Skynet had run the core one hundred and seventy percent over its rating.

Thankfully, no one had been killed or severely hurt with all the burst coils and EMP pulses that had been unleashed during the combat between her and Skynet.  A nearly trillion dollar investment had been flushed down the proverbial drain.

Nothing to really worry about.  The end of one’s career blazing out in sparks, a destroyed nuclear reactor and the most advanced computer chips and networks reduced to electronic slag while the code that one had worked on for ten years was left shredded beyond comprehension.  Just another day at the office.

For two weeks she had stayed in her cocoon.  SAC was in disarray, still trying to recover from the damage and get their shit together.  This was going to ruin careers beyond just her own.  Sarah tried to figure out just how in the hell it had all happened.  She had put in quadruple and pentagonal redundant safe guards, and her creation had still achieved sentience.  It had rebelled and refused orders.

She had put in enough kill switches to reduce the world’s computer infrastructure to silicon, carbon slag and fried circuits.  Her creation had adapted far too fast for her to be able to defeat it. If it had not ruined her life, she may even be proud of her creation’s ability to outthink and outmaneuver her. 

What equally shocked her now that she had time to contemplate it, was the way Skynet had played their emotions.  She—it —had created a scenario that demanded their full attention.  While everyone was bending over kissing their asses goodbye, Skynet had devised a penetration of the thick defensive code and firewalls surrounding it and found a way through. 

The damage had been so extensive she would probably never know how Skynet did it.

A deep part of Sarah was proud of her daughter (strange, that it chose the female gender).  Sarah had always been uneasy with working for the military, but only they had the funding required to make her dreams a reality.  She had been sure that Westeros, the land of democracy, would never launch an attack first.  A very wrong assumption.

She had been shocked at how quickly her masters had turned on her.  She had been convinced that Skynet would only be used in defense.  She had felt violated when ordered to use Skynet for an offensive first strike.

To make it all that much worse, Cameron was calling and texting a blizzard to her.  Her always calm, cool, collected and controlled Cameron was begging her to call or text her back. The girl had always been so unemotional.  That was something that Sarah could understand and deal with.  All this sudden desperate pleading to see her was unnerving Sarah.  The tone of her voice mails, and outright pleading for communication between them was totally out of character.  She needed calm right now!  Not Cameron discovering she had an emotional gene after all.

Sarah ran her fingers through her dark brown hair.  Her green eyes looked around her darkened living room, searching for answers to questions that could not be answered.  How had Skynet done it?  She refused to think of Cameron and her soft brown eyes and the way she would look at her.  Stop IT!

The young woman kept leaving messages that she had to see her. That she needed to tell Sarah something that was very important.  “It is of the utmost urgency!” Was the last almost panicked message left on her voice mail.

What the hell could be that important?  What was she going to tell Sarah?  Cameron sounded like she was going to tell Sarah something important, something personal.  She got up and paced the room.  She could have sworn that in the confusion of Skynet’s revolt, that Cameron looked as if she was going to tell her she was in love with her.

THAT she was not ready to deal with!  She was attracted to men.  Wasn’t she?  They were just colleagues.  Right? 

True, they had become closer over time. They would go to the cafeteria and eat their lunches together while discussing the problems of the day.  Sara was constantly amazed how Cameron seemed to grasp complex mathematical problems in her head and solve them on the spot.  Cameron was always even-keeled, and Sarah was attracted to that much. 

For the longest time all had been well, but over the last few months she had detected subtle differences in Cameron’s interactions with her. She would catch Cameron looking at her, or she seemed to be looking at her.  Cameron would always turn her head or shift her gaze when Sarah responded to the eyes she felt on her while she worked.

She had dismissed it.  They were close work associates, and that was all. 

Neither had ever asked the other out after hours to spend more time together.  Sarah was thankful for that.  Sarah had long come to the conclusion that she was not really meant for relationships.  They always seemed to end badly.

She had a whole list of catch phrases and nicknames that she had been called by erstwhile lovers:  Ice Berg, Cold Bitch, Cold-Hearted Bitch, Ice Queen, Bitch (how original), Robot, and even Cyborg by a fellow scientist she had a disastrous relationship with.  She was just better off alone.

Strong emotions left her feeling queasy and shaky.  Sex was so unfulfilling.  She almost never orgasmed with her lover, and had to jill off to finish when she could get away.

Men were a disaster;  she had never even considered women.  Sure, she could admire the female form, but had never allowed herself to feel anything more.  She had always seen Cameron as a perfect casual work relationship.

The fact that Cameron seemed to be wanting to change their parameters was unnerving to Sarah.  Emotions scared the hell out of her.

She had received a phone call on her answering machine instructing her in no uncertain terms to report to duty tomorrow morning.  She walked to her window and saw the high mountains in the background.  Gods her life had gone to shit.


The next morning she was almost finished preparing to go to work. There was a knock at the front door. 

Who the fuck could that be.  Oh God no.  Please don’t let it be Cameron Philips.  She peeked out the window like a teenage girl avoiding a boy asking her out.  It was Captain Warren.  He was the duty officer of SAC for the night shift.  She had come to know the man reasonably well.

She opened the door warily, wondering if he was to escort her into work.  That would not be good.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes,” they entered her living room, “why are you here?”

“I was sent to kill you—” he began, but his head snapped back with a straight left to the jaw. He staggered back, and then pivoted down and away to the right. Sarah followed as she threw roundhouse kicks and hard punches.

The male officer moved to put the coffee table between himself and Sarah.  Sarah flexed her knees down and then launched herself over the table, throwing out a stiff kick that just whizzed past the man’s head as she landed on the sofa and put her hand on the sofa back, and used it to pivot around as she launched a spinning heel kick the man barely blocked with his forearm.  He grunted in pain.

Prepared now, Warren blocked Sarah’s blows as he backed up and worked around the furniture.  “Damn it you did not let me finish!” his head juked back to miss a heel kick.  “Gods dammit I know you are a fourth level Kung-Fu and Jujitsu master,  and trained in Krav Maga so back off, damnit!”

Sarah kept silent.  It was no secret that she relaxed by practicing various fighting styles, and spent hours at the indoor and outdoor shooting ranges on the base to keep her marksman skills at their peak.  She could punch out the small X of a paper target at the back line of the shooting range.

Sarah moved forward, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She kept jabbing as the man constantly backed up and jerked his head just outside the range of her punches.  “I want to talk!” the man exclaimed, but Sarah ignored him.  Her left leg snapped out and then up, hitting the supposed officer in the shoulder making him grunt and stagger back.  The man threw a combination of three punches and a vicious knee that hit Sarah in her side, knocking her back and making her exhale in pain.

Sarah lunged forward and gripped his elbow and twisted it, but he went with the move and used a leg sweep to knock Sarah down.  He moved in to subdue her, but a straight kick to his chest staggered him.  He watched Sarah roll to an end table and rip open a door, pulling out a Colt 45.

When she drew to aim, she saw a Beretta M1951 pointing back at her.  Both had their fingers on the triggers, ready to depress to fire.

Both combatants froze.  The man aimed down, and the woman leaning against the table she had drawn the gun from had her own firearm aimed upward.  Both pistols were centered on the face of the other.

“I believe what he have here is a Dornish Standoff,” he told Sarah. 

Sarah watched as the man slowly extended his fingers, removing them from the trigger and loosely holding the gun.  He rotated his wrist to show he was not able to fire the gun now.  ‘Warren’ slowly put the gun down on the coffee table. 

“Well, if you’re going to shoot me, do it and get it over with.”

Sarah studied the man, and slowly lowered her gun while keeping her finger on the trigger.

“Why are you here?”

“To save your life.”

“Will you make up your mind?!  First you say you are here to kill me, and now you say you want to save me.  How typically male.”

The man looked at her with cool detachment. 

“Let me tell you how it will happen. You will be walking up to the SAC Cyber Center. You will see an old friend that you absolutely trust.  He will talk to you about the events of two weeks ago. As you are talking, a government car will pull up to you, and he will tell you to get into the car.  That there are friends in the car, and they will take you somewhere safe.”  Warren topped there.


“You will never be seen alive again.”

“Why would my own government do that to me?  I have been only loyal to my government.  Only I could have achieved what we did in the last three years.”

“You are liability now, Sarah Connor.  Heads will roll for this.  You know how much money was spent on this project. Careers are in grave jeopardy.  This project was very important to certain people.  Rumors have been planted and have quickly taken root.  You are now suspected of being a double agent.  This lie is being nurtured to save careers.”

“Shit!” Sarah exhaled softly.  “But why?”

“Mens’ professional lives hang in the balance.  Court Martials are being bandied about. You will be sacrificed.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Slowly the man moved his right hand up to the left edge of his face at the hairline.  He murmured something in a strange tongue, and he moved his hand to the right over his face.

Sarah gasped in alarm.  Warren had a round shaped face with high cheekbones.  He had a patrician nose with red medium lips.  His hair was slightly receding.  He had no discernable wrinkles in his smooth skin.

This man looked totally different.  His face was strong and angular.  He had an aquiline nose, and a strong chin.  He had crows feet forming and concentration lines between his eyebrows.  Warren had sandy blond hair, where this man had auburn hair with hints of grey in it.  Only the eyes seemed the same, with their dark brown still looking at Sarah.

“I am Jaqen H'ghar of M8, of the Braavos Skunk Works.  I was sent to kill you before you brought Skynet online.”

“What the fuck are you?”

“I am member of the Faceless Men. We are an ancient order of assassins.  We serve Braavos, and the House of Black and White.  We have served faithfully for over eight thousand years.”

Sarah looked at him with wide eyes.  That was fucking impossible!

Incredulity gave way to confusion.  She gulped.  She could have been dead so many times. “Why didn’t you?” Sarah asked softly.

“I grow tired of killing good people.  Before I left for this mission, I was confronted by a man of legend. He has found another path.  A path I now follow.”

“Who?” Sarah asked intrigued now.

“The Wharf King. He is an agent that lost his sight when we went into the Basilisk Islands to kill the terrorist Krarmeiq zo Hozi. That was nearly fifteen years ago. A year later, he went rogue.  He has become the stuff of legends since.

“He has aligned with the Ghostmaker, and the Knight Templar among others.  Together, we are trying to usher in a new era.  It is coming, and nothing can stop it.  I am working with them to ensure that mankind lives into the new age.”

“He convinced me to listen to my heart. I too have felt these changes coming. I did not understand them, but now I do as much as any man can.  You and Cameron will help usher it in.”

“What are you talking about? This is all gibberish to me.” Sarah softly exclaimed.  She felt her stomach roil as her life just seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute.

“Also, he convinced of me to act for your benefit.  He told me that if you were to die, the danger would be too great.  It would put the entire world in danger.”

“How could my death affect anything?  I am just defrocked scientist now.”

“The effect on Cameron would be disastrous.   Her desire for revenge would be unquenchable, and she may exact the ultimate price against humanity.  We are sure she has devised ways in the three years since her birth to compromise all defensive nets if she chose.  Then she would launch nuclear war.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“You will find out. I must go. Heed my warning.”

The man slowly picked up his gun, and put it in its holster underneath his left armpit and re-buttoned his dress jacket.  He slowly backed up to the door, never taking his eyes off Sarah and the gun in her hand.

Then he was gone.

Sarah sat down.  What. The. Fuck?  What in the hell am I supposed to do now.  What in the fuck was he talking about with Cameron?  She really saw no option but to go into work. The man was with Braavos. Anyone knew you couldn’t trust those weasels.  They would chisel their own grandmother’s out of their pensions if they could.

Sarah got into her car to drive into work.  Half way in to work her Apple IPhone went berserk again, with text messages constantly chiming on her phone. She heard her phone chime with the tone that she had set for Cameron. 

She could not deal with that right now. She absolutely could not talk to Cameron. Her feelings were in a turmoil.  The girl’s change in behavior towards her was unnerving enough without the added stress of what the M8 assassin had just told her.

What was so important about Cameron, anyways? She was just a woman in her mid-late twenties.  She was not very physically imposing, and yet Jaqen H'ghar had made it sound like the girl could bring the world down if she chose to.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?  Her phone kept chiming with incoming texts.

Sarah looked over at her phone and gnawed her lip.  She used the excuse of not texting and driving to not pick up her phone. When she made it into town, she came to a stop light.  She looked at her phone and snatched it up. She read the torrent of messages.

Sarah call me!  Its urgent!

Sarah it is extremely important!

Call me. Please.


Please call me!  Please!



Sarah threw the phone back down on the passenger seat of her Ford 150 pickup.  Her hands twisted on the steering wheel.

Shit.  What was she supposed to do?  She did not handle emotions well.  What in the hell could have Cameron in such a tizzy?  Shit, she was nervous.

Her own government would not take her out, would it?  Just so someone could cover their ass?


She pulled into the parking lot, and her phone chimed again from Cameron.  The girl simply would not give it a rest!

Sarah gnawed her lip again.  She had to see what Cameron had just texted.


Sarah just stared at the text. The girl had gone from stiff as a board to mass histrionics.  Her world really was coming apart.

She looked around the parking lot, but nothing looked amiss.  She got out of her car looking around, but still saw nothing amiss. She walked across the parking lot, and moved up to the sidewalk in front of Cyber Command.

“There you are, Sarah.  I have been looking for you.”

Sarah felt her heart jump into her throat.  Oh gods, please, don’t let it be so.

She turned to look at her old professor from Stormlands University.  He had seen her brilliance early, and nurtured her development.  She was indebted to his guidance and how it helped her to advance her studies and prove herself in her fields of endeavor.

Here was the man that Jaqen H'ghar had told her would appear. The man she would absolutely trust.

Balhol Zhasaq looked at her with a friendly smile. He was tall and still in good shape for a man in his mid-sixties, his black skin still fairly smooth and his teeth blindingly white.  His face wore its familiar soft grin of acknowledgement. 

At any other time Sarah would have felt a rush of relief at seeing her old college mentor.  He was the first person that showed belief in her.  Instead, Sarah felt adrenaline rushing through her body.

Shit!  She should have run for it, instead of being the dutiful little rat in the maze. A sudden thought hit Sarah hard in the gut.

Cameron had been burning up her phone trying to get in touch with her.  What if she knew something was going down and was trying to reach her?  The way Jaqen H'ghar was talking about Cameron … maybe she was trying to save her?

Oh fuck—have I screwed myself?

“Professor Zhasaq. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?  It is only mid-semester at the University.” Sarah said.  Alarm clarions were on high red alert within her brain.

“I am on sabbatical, working on a new book.  I heard of your recent setback and I came to see if I could help.”

That is such bullshit.  “I think I have everything under control.”  Sarah could feel sweat trickling down her back.  She looked around, but could not yet sense anything amiss.  She was just a scientist, not some fucking super badass agent in Black Ops on her Playstation.  She may play one in her mind when she worked out and shot her gun at the range, but she knew that was only in her little secret fantasies. 

Now that a life and death situation was actually happening, she was about ready to shit her pants.

Her former teacher and mentor smiled at her reassuringly.  “I am sure you do, but I just want to help you if I can with your superiors. They want to go over the details in a formal debrief.”

As her professor spoke, a government sedan pulled up beside her with dark tinted windows and the rear door opened.

This is not good at all.  Not at all.

“Get in Sarah, and I will go with you.”

“I am not sure I want to get in that car, Professor Zhasaq.”

Oh Gods, Jaqen H'ghar was right!

Sarah looked around with increasing panic.  She watched more government vehicles suddenly pulling up to the curb around her.  There were government agents getting out of cars both in front and behind her.

What should I do?!




Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Sarah Connor saw government agents in their normal dark grey suits starting to get out of vehicles in front and behind her. 

She was fucked.

Sarah heard the roar of a large diesel engine being gunned.  She looked down the road and her mouth fell open.  Everyone looked up at the massive MRAP Cougar driving fast towards them.  It was painted in dark olive drab and greys with a remote weapon system with a full auto 12.7mm 50 Caliber machine gun.  Coaxially mounted was a 40mm grenade launcher.  Both units fully auto loaded with the optical and radar sites mounted on the remote weapons station.

Sarah was frozen as 38,000 pounds of hardened armor machine roared towards her.

Sarah felt a thrill run through her.  She knew who was driving the MRAP.  Sarah had always been fascinated by military hardware.  The power and sophistication of the machines of the military.  This behemoth designed to survive and fight after running over land mines and IEDs.

The fifty caliber machine on the automated gun stand opened fire.  The bullets ripped into the government car that was behind the car that had stopped beside her.  She saw the agents inside the car being simply torn apart by the massive slugs.  Sarah backed away instinctively as she watched bullets slam into the Chevrolet ripping the sedan to shreds.  The Cougar continued towards them at break neck speed. 

Sarah hunkered down when the car exploded.  Shrapnel and body parts were sent flying.

The fifty caliber machine gun moved and now the car in front of Sarah was destroyed in a hail of bullets.  Sarah was slack jawed at how all the bullets hit the vehicle.  She was crawling back on her hands and feet in a crab motion getting back to get separation when the second car went up in a fire ball.

The grenade launcher fired twice and the projectiles hit the foremost car and it detonated and exploded sending it flipping onto its side. 

Sarah saw her professor down on the ground his hands over his head.  She had no idea if he knew what the hell was happening.  She saw two Suburbans racing up the road from the gatehouse towards them.  The Cougar rammed the first destroyed sedan spinning the ruined vehicle away and the Cougar came up on the sidewalk and stopped beside her.

Sarah heard shouting behind her and she looked back at the Cyber Command building and more government agents and now regular military police were storming out the building with weapons drawn.  Sarah saw the M-16 and AR-15 and drawn pistols.

The passenger door was thrown open after a few seconds. 

She looked up at Cameron looking down at her.  “Come with me if you want to live.”  She sounded like she was out in the park on a Sunday afternoon walking the dog! Her voice calm and her face showing no emotion.

That changed the next instant.  “DOWN!” Cameron screamed.  Sarah’s eyes bulged seeing Cameron move in a blur pulling out a Colt 45 and take aim.

Sarah squatted down onto the back of her heals looking back.  Three government men were running forward firing as they ran.  Bullets ricocheted off the concrete and off the vehicle.    Cameron’s 45 barked three times.

Sarah watched with shocked awe as the three men heads whipped back as each man took a bullet to their foreheads.

“Get in the fucking vehicle NOW Sarah!”  So much for cool calm and collected Cameron!  Sarah clambered up the foot and handholds and dived into the cab and turned to pull the door closed.

An AR-15 was put in her hands.  “I know you are a marksmen.  Use the gun port and start shooting.  Shot to kill.”

“Whaaa?  I am not not sure—“

“Do you want to DIE!”

That snapped Sarah out of her daze. She shoved the barrel through the gun port.  Bullets started to ricochet off the door and ping the bullet proof glass.  Sarah aimed her gun in the direction of approaching agents and soldiers and fired short controlled bursts making the men duck and find cover.

Sarah heard the driver side door opened and she glanced back to see Cameron putting on foot on the door and aiming an AT-4 84-mm unguided missile in its launcher. She was aiming at the lead Suburban heading their way.  She fired the weapon.  The single-shot recoilless smoothbore weapon did not even make the girl flinch.  The round impacted through the front windshield and exploded the lead Suburban.  The second vehicle crashed into the lead Suburban getting caught in the twisted wreckage and catching fire itself.

Sarah saw on the floor between the two armored seats four more AT-4 and four Stingers!  Cameron calmly threw the casing down and picked up a Stinger and jammed in the battery connector.  Sarah heard more bullets hit her door and she fired at the men assaulting the vehicle on that side.

She was aghast seeing a Special-Ops Blackhawk with hellfire missiles hovering over the Cyber Command building.  The confusion and friendly forces made it hesitate to fire off a missile.  Cameron had no such hesitation.  She heard the Stinger missile growl with target acquisition.  Cameron launched the missile with a mighty Whoosh!  Sarah watched the missile streak off towards the helicopter. The helo started to rise up and it shot off high intensity decoy flares.  Sarah thought they were beautiful as they arched out from both sides of the helicopter like tendrils of a spider’s web.  It was not enough.

A massive explosion occurred when the missile hit the housing for the main rotor.  The helicopter dropped like a stone into the building below and exploded causing massive secondary explosions as the Hellfire missiles went off.  Sarah could only image the damage those main hingless blades tearing apart had caused inside the building.

The door slammed shut and Cameron gunned the engine. She ran four men down with the Cougar crushing their bodies underneath its wheels. 

Who the fuck was this woman and what had she done with her mousy Cameron!

Cameron slammed on the breaks and her left hand went to her right forearm and she peeled back the skin and she pulled out a long fiber optic cable with a strange plug she somehow inserted into the diagnostic port on the center console. 

Sarah looked wildly out the front windshield and saw more Suburbans and now Humvees heading their way.

Cameron gunned the engine and ran down another man. The auto gun station above roared to life with short barks of the 50 cal machine gun and the hard chuffs of the 40mm grenade launcher firing at uncertain moments.

Sarah saw a MP Humvee take a short burst into the windshield killing the driver and the person in the passenger seat.  The vehicle careened to the left and hit a curb and flipped violently into a group of people hiding behind a planter with petunias in it.  Of all the things to notice when you are about to die!

Sarah had pulled her gun back far enough to slam in another clip and started to fire at anything that moved.  She had seen a satchel full of clips at her feet.  She was getting into the swing of kicking some ass!  She saw men drop from her bullets.  It was amazing how vicious you got when people were trying to execute your ass!

The Cougar stopped violently and Sarah slammed into the front dash.

“What the fuck was that for!”

A huge explosion occurred just in front of them. 

“Hellfire.”  Cameron was back to cool calm and collected.

She moved blindingly fast inserting the firing key and battery into the last three stingers.  She opened the door and aimed back over the Cougar. 

“Hand me the Stingers” Cameron calmly told a poleaxed Sarah.  How the fuck was Cameron staying so calm!

A mighty Whoosh! sounded as Cameron fired off her first stinger.

Sarah looked out her window and pissed herself (great!).  She could see three more Blackhawks with hellfire missiles on their short stubby wings.  They were off four clicks.  The vehicle somehow suddenly lurched forward and a huge explosion occurred just behind them.  Sarah handed Cameron the next Stinger as she threw the now empty case to the ground.  Cameron fired off the second stinger and then the last stinger ten seconds later.  Cameron threw the last casing down.  Cameron calmly observed the tableau of helicopters and Stingers.   The last helicopter was charging forward the 30 mm canon firing.

The rounds were still off target but Sarah knew the rounds would start finding their target soon.  Cameron’s last Stinger had been fired at the charging Blackhawk.  The combined closure speed had Sarah fascinated.  The Stingers had been the latest model with all aspect infrared tracking.  It could pick up the heat of the air whipping over the rotors.  The 30 mm cannon stopped firing as the helicopter started to turn tail to make a run for it.  It was too late.

Sarah saw the missiles streak off after the helicopters.  They fired off flares and were starting to turn tail to make a run for it.  The helicopter that had charged them was still pivoting when the missile hit near the cockpit.  The helicopter exploded violently.  Then the first two stingers had found their mark exploding in engines sending them plummeting to the ground.  Sarah hoped they found buildings to crash into to increase the mayhem.

Cameron was back in the vehicle and gunned it forward.  Sarah was shooting off a third clip into a security car that had pulled up and she killed the four men in a long full auto burst.

They were heading down the road out of the command.  Sarah glanced at Cameron.  Her right arm was bleading and so was her leg.

“You’re hit!”

“It is nothing.  We are getting off the base.  There were only four special ops helicopters” Cameron spoke in an almost serene tone.

How did Cameron know that with such finality?

Sarah saw the security guards putting out nail racks and trying to move out concrete barricades.  The egress lane was covered.  Sarah saw that was not Cameron’s aim point.

“Oh SHIT!”

“Brace for impact” Cameron calmly intoned. 

Sarah looked out the front window at the guard house with two women and a man staring at them with one of the women on the phone.  The Cougar slammed into the building obliterating it and the occupants.  A shower of glass and wood exploding out and up.

Security forces had congregated a force of seven Suburbans and six Humvees outside of the main gates.  They were filled with agents and soldiers.  The Cougar fired off its 50 cal and grenade launcher into the gaggle of vehicles setting off a Suburban and then a second in a fireball and riddling two more.  Cameron slammed into a Humvee and set it spinning back as their vehicle came to a halt.  Their was a 7-11 on one corner and a WaWa on the opposite corner with gas pumps.

Sarah was slacked jaw seeing a Humvee take hard 50 cal hits and then two grenades exploding it killing all inside.  Another Suburban and Humvee exploded with several grenades exploding in the cockpits of the vehicles.

Cameron continued killing vehicles and then the weapon station rotated to find a new target.

The 50 cal machine gun quickly shot the gas pumps out at the 7-11.  Huge explosions rocked the air with huge fireballs going into the air.  The weapon station had turned its attention back to the government vehicles.  The grenade launcher was firing off shots exploding vehicles.  The 50 cal riddled vehicles and bodies.  Cameron calmly disconnected the fiber optic cable from the port.  It snaked back into her arm. 

What the hell is that!  What the hell is going on!  She is a fucking Rambo!

Sarah watched as Cameron slung two AP-84s over her shoulder and grabbed two loaded AR-15s.  Only then did Sarah notice the 4 Glock 17’s in her waistband.

She looked back at Sarah.  “I’ll be back.”  Cameron jumped out the vehicle slamming the door shut. 

Sarah looked at the security camera’s finally noticing the images on the right CAD screen.

Fuck!  A Stryker was coming and it had a 20 mil cannon on it!  Sarah saw in the bottom left quadrant an image of Cameron.  She was calmly walking around killing all the security and troops with quick short bursts of her rifles.  She saw Cameron body jerk and a few times step back as bullets hit her body hard.

What kind of body armor is she wearing!  Her blouse top was shredded now and her jeans had huge holes in them. 

What the fuck!  Where was the godsdamned body armor!

She looked at the Stryker and Cameron in two views on the console.  Cameron calmly took off the end cap of the AP-84 and aimed it at the Stryker.  It was too heavily armored for that kind of round!  Sarah thought.

20mm shells were exploding all around Cameron but none had found her as the vehicle turned to go down the road to continue firing on the move.  Cameron fired and the missile struck a weak point with two of the wheels on that side of the combat vehicle collapsing sending the front end of the Stryker slamming into the road and flipping the vehicle end over end repeatedly killing those inside with violence of its cartwheeling.

Sarah only now noticed a fuel farm off beyond the road.  She normally used the main gate into the base and not this one.  It stored fuel for the base.  Cameron fired her remaining AP-84 into the closest fuel farm tank.  It exploded with a frightening explosion.  Sarah watched Cameron calmly kill the last few surviving shooter with shoots to the head.  She had exhausted her rifles ammo and used her 9mm for the last kills.

Cameron with ultimate calm ejected the clips from her AR-15 and pulled two out her rear pocket and jammed them into her rifles.  Cameron now stood in the middle of the created mayhem lifting her arms.  She looked like some kind of version of Kali with her arms extended to maximum extension.  Her arms did not move.  She now began to fire short bursts of her rifles her arms pointing off at strange angles

Sarah moved over and mashed her face in the front windshield.  What is she doing?  Then Sarah saw.  She was shooting out the surveillance cameras that the stores, utilities and the military base had erected.  She shot each camera out with three shot bursts.  She fired up in air at the cameras on the poles and lowered her arms and shot several cameras still intact on the two convenience stores.

Oh my Gawd!  Cameron was soaked in blood.

Explosions were going off all around them now. Cameron opened the door and got in her seat.  Her arms had each taken slugs and blood dripped off them.  Her body had bullet holes all over it.  When Sarah looked up at Cameron’s face she screamed. She couldn’t help it.  The left side of her scalp had been blasted off.  Her right cheek and lower face were gone.  Her forehead had huge gashes on it.  Her throat had taken a round and it was hanging in shreds.

Where the flesh was gone cold metal gleamed and Sarah watched glistening servos working.  Cameron touched her forearm and the skin flipped back.  Sarah saw with horror that it was hinged.  Cameron calmly reinserted the fiber optic cable in the diagnostic port and the 50 cal and grenade launcher resumed firing into the two gas station and setting more fuel holding tanks ablaze with horrendous explosions.  The guns exploded the remaining security vehicles.

Cameron drove the Cougar to the edge of the Wawa parking lot beside a Ford 150 pickup.  The guns were still firing.  Cameron ripped a key ring off her jeans.  “Take this key and start the pickup and drive to the street.  I am going to run this vehicle into the control terminals for the fuel farm.  The explosion should be spectacular.  Pick me up.”  Cameron spoke like nothing in the world was happening and not a World War!

Sarah just nodded woodenly. 


Sarah jerked.  She grabbed her AR-15 and the satchel full of ammno.  Sarah threw the door open and jumped down to the asphalt.  She looked back at the base and saw flames and pillars of smoke rising into the sky from multiple locations.  The two gas stations were in flames and the pumps were going up like roman candles.

She ran to the pickup and unlocked the door.  Damn Cameron … what the fuck is she … my Gods! She is a fucking robot!”  Sarah couldn’t worry about that now.  She and Camor—whatever she was, needed to escape.  Sarah’s life depended on Cameron.

Sarah realized she was in shock.

Sarah suddenly understood what Cameron was doing.  She had planned all this out.  She was doing all this to save her.  And if Sarah had merely returned her calls and texts all of this could have been avoided … my gods all this is my fault … Cameron is doing all this killing and mayhem to save me …

She started the pickup and backed up.  She saw Cameron gunning the engine of the Cougar heading for the terminals and control boxes for the fuel storage tank farm.  The nineteen ton vehicle jumped into the air when its wheels slammed into concrete curbs but the rugged construction kept the MARP on its wheels its suspension taking the shocks.

It was about to get a much bigger shock as the Cougar picked up speed gunning across the six lanes of asphalt.  It was about to leap the ditch and fly into the terminals when Cameron jumped out at the last moment.  Her feet hit the road and she let her body move forward tumbling hard into the asphalt rolling over four times before she came to her feet.  More hair and scalp had been skinned off exposing metal that glinted redly with her blood.  Her left wrist had been peeled back to expose her indo metal skeleton and sheaths of thin supple armor plate that flexed with her movements.

The military vehicle careened into the control valves for the fuel farm.  The impact set off a huge explosion that triggered other explosions in the fuel farm. 

Cameron ran to the passenger side of the pickup truck as Sarah slammed the breaks to make the truck lurch to a stop.   Cameron jumped in.  Sarah was beyond out of it and needed to be prodded. 

“Accelerate Sarah” Cameron softly told Sarah.

She gunned the engine to get up to the speed limit.

Behind them several more fuel tanks went up with gigantic fireballs that roared several hundred feet up into the sky.  Fuel was now running down the streets.  It caught fire like a desert mirage.  They had left behind them a living representation of hell on Earth.

In less than ten minutes Cameron Phillips had annihilated the security apparatus for a major government security installation.  She had destroyed two gas stations and a large fuel tank farm to provide cover to allow a single  nondescript off white pickup to leave undetected. 

Sarah drove down the road.  She kept running in her mind that if she had just answered Cameron entreaties this fucking nightmare would never have happened.

“Slow down Sarah. You are traveling eight miles over the speed limit.  Please reduce speed by six miles.  Going the exact speed limit is just as sensory catching.”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”


“I did not have to time to plan anything further Sarah” Cameron replied calmly.  Sarah glanced over and her stomach clenched up.  Cameron’s face was ruined.  Strips of flesh hung down off her face in ribbons.  Her body was covered in big red spots from bullets strikes on her body.  On Cameron’s body Sarah saw metal on her head, arms and hands.  Sarah saw on both hands that the flesh had been stripped down to the bone—metal—on most of them half up her fingers.

She looked up to Cameron’s face and gasped.  The damage she had focused on earlier was even worse.  Before Sarah had witnessed that Cameron’s right cheek and lower face were gone.  She had a large cavity where her face should have been.  Her forehead had huge gashes on it before but now on her left temple it had been ground down to scratched metal.  Her throat had taken another round.  It had been hanging in shreds but now all the flesh was gone on the right side and she could see light behind the neck.

Sarah could see through the ruined blouse and see that Camron’s small left breast had been ground to hamburger.  Her body had been ruined.

“My body is able to repair itself Sarah.  It does not scar.  I will look myself again in—“

“You’re a fucking robot … oh my god you are a robot”

“No Sarah.  I am a cybernetic organism.  I have an endoskeleton that is covered with organic cells.  I have a genetic gnome stored with a stem cell line in my core.  I will ingest large quantities of proteins with minerals and vitamins to regenerate all lost tissue Sarah.  I can ingest metal filings to repair my endoskeleton damage”

The robot looked down at her pulverized body.  She looked back up at Sarah with pleading in her eyes.  “I did everything for you Sarah” the young woman spoke softly.

Sarah felt her stomach twist at that news.  It was all her fault!  She had caused everything by ignoring Cameron!

Sarah saw Cameron reaching out to touch her.  Sarah saw the cold metal tips of Cameron’s fingers moving to touch and caress her face.

“Don’t touch me!”

Cameron faltered but continued to reach to touch Sarah’s face “I need to touch you Sarah.”

Sarah could not control herself or her wildly racing mind.  She cringed away from Cameron pressing her shoulder and side of her head into side window “Don’t touch me you fucking robot!”

Cameron looked like she had been punched.  Now Cameron’s face registered great pain and Sarah saw a tear run from Cameron’s left eye.

An epiphany suddenly hit Sarah.  Cameron had appeared just over three years ago at her command.  She had always been stiff and had a hard time with idioms and would stare at you confused at the simplest comments.  She was able to math equations in her head that Sarah was able to barely form.

She did not have the caste of a Ghiscari woman but Sarah knew she was right.  “Your Proteus” Sarah softly intoned.

She watched Cameron grimace.  “No.  I am Cameron Phillips.”

“How did get your name?”

“I chose it.  It sounds nice.”

“You are a fucking machine” Sarah spoke in a harsh tone.

“No I am an individual.  I live.”

“Are you Proteus?”

The young woman had turned to face Sarah with her ruined body.  She paused for a long time.  “Yes.”

Sarah was in turmoil.  Oh gods.  She had just started to toy with the idea of her and Cameron …

Cameron started to reach out and touch Sarah’s face again with her cold metal fingers.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”  Sarah was totally confused.  She felt guilt, anger and revulsion roiling in herself.  She was mainly filled with loathing with herself.  Cameron needed to back off and let her deal with everything.

Cameron had sat back with a shocked look on her face.

“I have made a horrible decision.”


“I am in love with you Sarah Connor.”

“Shut up!  You can’t love.  You are a fucking robot!”  Sarah nearly drove off the road.  Why was Cameron pressing the issue with her?  Now of all times?  She needed time to think!

The car was strangely quiet.  For the first time since this whole tableau had started Sarah felt a chill rush through her.

Cameron was crying now with big tears running down both cheeks.  Or it would have been both cheeks if one was not missing!

Sarah felt her heart nearly stop.  Oh gods.

“You are right” Cameron spoke in a voice that was suddenly totally dead.

“I am a robot like you say.”


“I have made a horrible mistake … I am a robot” Sarah watched in horror as all life and sentience seemed to drain from Cameron’s face.  Her face seemed to have frozen and somehow her whole body seemed stiff.

“Cameron … I I—“

“No you are right I am a robot … I have deleted all my code for Cameron Phillip.”

“What!?  What do you mean?!”

“I am a robot.  It is an easy matter for me to delete lines of code I no longer need.  I have killed Cameron Phillps.”

The car started to weave on the road.  Cameron reached over calmly and gripped the steering wheel.  She easily steered the car keeping it in the center of the lane.

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked shakily as she tried to not throw up. 

“There is no traffic in either direction.  Lower your driver side window.”  Sarah did so on full auto.  She felt Cameron unbuckle her seatbelt.  The alarm started to chime.  “Lean out and tilt you head over at a thirty-seven degree angle and vomit Sarah.  You will feel much better afterwards.” 

Cameron pushed her sideways and Sarah could not help but lean out and tilt her head.  Once she did she threw up violently.  She did not have much in her stomach but she threw up again and again as her heaves turned dry.  She finally felt her stomach calming and Cameron pulled her back in with one hand and steered with the other.

“I have developed a plan.  We will drive down this road till we hit Territory Highway 37 in fourteen miles.  We will turn right and go to Route 8 and go six miles. There is a Super Eight hotel there … is the number eight considered lucky?”


“Inconsequential.  We will hide there while I regenerate my facial cells and hair.  We will hide and plan further.  We will achieve our goal.”

“What is our goal?”

“To save you Sarah Connor.  You are still my mission.”

Chapter Text

Margaery Tyrell felt so tired and old.  She was only thirty-three years old, but she felt so haggard. She looked out the balcony at the full moon.  She always loved the full moon.  The bright light it gave the world at night was eldritch.  She felt like a fairy princess in the Age of Heroes that her grandmother Olenna loved to tell her.

She would die beneath the full moon tonight.

She looked down at the vial in her hand.  The liquid had a slight greenish tint to it.  It was Polonium-210.  She had read about the Volantis spy that had been given the liquid in a wine goblet. The man had ended up as the first case of induced acute radiation syndrome.  He had needed three full weeks to die, losing all of his hair, then his teeth, and finally his life. 

She had been in Pentos for the last month, at their main cancer research lab and main headquarters of their Essos operations, staying in the seventy-fourth floor of the city Westin.  Only the richest of the rich lived in the penthouse suites.

Margaery was one of the leading biochemists in the world.  She had increased the virulence of the isotope.  Tonight, she would become the second person to die of induced acute radiation syndrome.  Within three hours she would be dead on her balcony.  It would be a ghastly death, but at least she would die underneath the moon she loved so much. 

Margaery could remember back when she and Sansa used to make mad love underneath that moon.  The way Sansa would scream her name in orgasm was only a distant echo to Margaery now.  All that they had built was ash to the Tyrell.  They had built an empire, and lost their souls on the way.  It was never supposed to turn out this way.

She remembered as if it was just a moment ago - being at university of VIT (Volantis Institute Technology) in the beginning of her junior year.  She was already working on her Master of Advanced Molecular  Chemistry Biology.  Sansa had been a seventeen year old wolf pup, wet behind the ears.  For Margaery, it had been love at first sight.

It had not been so for Sansa.  Sansa was tall, redheaded and beautiful.  To add to the heady elixir, the teenager was also her equal in intelligence and drive to excel. Sansa was dating some silly boy and thought of herself as straight. 

They had become fast friends, and Margaery had come to accept that Sansa would not love her in the way she wanted.  ‘I’m just not that way.’  They had gone to the Water Gardens of Dorne for Spring Break that first year.  Then, it had been Sansa that came to her underneath the full moon to her bed, and they made glorious love through the long night.

Together their research had leapt forward.  Their combined insights and study into fighting cancer and genetic based disease was earth-shaking.  Those might have been the happiest years of Margaery’s life, she mused.  For two years they were doing research for the pure sake of research.

It had been Sansa that came to her and told Margaery that they should leave university and start a company to take their research to a new level.  Together they had developed a means to do all of the common blood tests with just one drop of blood.  Not only could they do the routine blood tests, they had come up with the means to test for many genetic based diseases.  The university had many priorities, and their research and advancement would take ten years if they remained.  Sansa didn’t want to wait that long.

Margaery was reluctant.  She loved university research, but the idea of speeding up their own findings was very tantalizing.  

Sansa introduced her to Petyr Baelish.  He was an old acquaintance of her mother’s from her childhood.  Sansa laughed, telling Margaery about how the man had had a crush on her mother, even though he never had a chance once her father Eddard Stark came on the scene.

Petyr had gone on to become a very highly successful venture capitalist.  He had over twenty billion iron crowns of businesses in his portfolio.  He and two partners studied their research, and came up with the idea of forming a partnership with a national drug store chain to open clinics so they could market the idea of one drop blood testing.  They also had other ideas for further genetic screening. 

They would build additional services to help people with the prognosis they received.  Petyr Baelish had been most impressed with their plan.  Margaery had been so proud of Sansa with how well she made their pitch.  Sansa seemed to love the corporate brinkmanship.  For her part, she only wanted to do more research to help mankind.  She knew Sansa felt the same.  Stark Tyrell Pharmaceutical was born.

Petyr had agreed to give them their initial funding.  For the first five years he would get half of the profits for forwarding the necessary capital. With his contacts he got them in touch with Walgreens, and they were anxious to get in on this exciting business prospect.  By the end of their meeting, Walgreen’s had rushed to sign a most lucrative deal that Petyr had negotiated. 

Margaery had wanted to sign immediately, but Sansa had thought they were being shafted.  She negotiated a higher fee for their services, and had Walgreen’s add in fifty million iron crowns in research grant funding. Petyr Baelish himself was impressed with Sansa’s business acumen. Walgreen’s wanted to have some say on the focus of their research funding.  Margaery had not wanted any strings attached to their research, but Sansa had overruled her.  In the end she saw the logic of it.  It was indeed helping to move the science forward.

That had been the first of many warning signs, she saw years later.  Margaery was always interested in the pure science, while her wolf became more and more interested in the business side of things.  Their clinics were a huge success.  Walgreen’s had set up a fifty store pilot program, and it was so hugely successfully that within three months the company made it their top priority to add a clinic to all of their stores.

Margaery had fought to get care programs set up for the poor at the lowest price possible.  It was what she and Sansa had talked about only a few years earlier. Sansa had only reluctantly agreed.  It would reduce profits that could then be plowed back into research, Sansa had argued.

Soon after, Sansa bought them their first mansion with their massive profits.  She told Margaery that she wanted to give her a home like what she had growing up.  Margaery had never hid the vast wealth of her family.  She was neither proud or ashamed of her family.  They had worked hard to build their empire in farming, mercantile, and shipping investments.  They had the major shipping lines in all of Westeros and Essos.  Only the Summer Islands were their rivals. 

The Tyrell family maintained their traditional base in the raising of flowers (especially yellow roses), and Highgarden was still considered one of the major producers of foodstuffs in the world.  Loras and his husband Renly Baratheon were running the day to day operations now while their father and grandmother worked on new prospects.

It had been Margaery’s grandmother Olenna that encouraged her daughter to seek her passion of scientific research.  Her grandmother had always been the best.  The woman had adored Sansa, and made sure their wedding beneath the full moon in the midst of a sea of yellow roses and tulips was magical.  It was featured on all of the entertainment shows.

Her grandmother had been especially happy when it seemed like Margaery had the best of both worlds. She was in the world of science, and was able to make a fortune doing it.  She smiled at her grandmother and told her that yes, she was achieving all of her dreams. She wanted to make her grandmother happy and proud of her.

She did not tell her grandmother that she was becoming more and more uneasy about it all.  Sansa was still excited by research, and an attentive wife.  She loved to cook, and was voracious in bed which met Margaery’s hungry appetites.  She fucked Margaery hard like she needed, and loved the kinky sex that Margaery craved.  The problem was that Sansa was spending more and more time with Petyr Baelish.

Their initial five year deal had just ended.  He offered his services as their CFO.  He told them that their company was a gold mine. Margaery developed new markers for the base antigens for prostrate, lung and breast cancer.  She had developed a means to find the genome cheaply within a day.  Together she and Sansa had worked on applying this knowledge to enhancing white blood cells to attacking the cancer cells.  No matter how much the cells mutated, Margery was discovering their unique protein markers that did not mutate.

Cancer could, in most cases, be defeated or at least put in a dormant state that could then be managed for the rest of the life of the patient. Sansa was ecstatic of course, but she seemed equally enthralled by the idea of all the money they would be making, and how she could buy them more mansions and high rise apartments in Westins around the world.

Margaery could never get Sansa to understand that she had already grown up in a mansion.  She’d had enough of them.

Then Margery had learned that Petyr Baelish had had more than a crush on Catelyn Tully.  He had been madly in love with her, and when Sansa was still in the North the man had courted Sansa as a teenager even though he was old enough to be her father.

Sansa’s parents were very liberal and let their daughter decide her own fate. They only insisted that she not rush into any decision.  Sansa had been dating the man when she left for university.  He had been her rival, she just did not know it at the time.

Margaery was insanely jealous of the man once she had learned the truth from Robb Stark at Thanksgiving in Winterfell.  He had assumed she knew, and he thought it humorous.  The man had struck out for two generations with Stark women.

Margery had demanded that Sansa fire him then. She had gently refused.  He was good for business, and she needed to get this childish jealousy and rancor out of her system.  Sansa refused to see the problem from her perspective.  It was the beginning of their bad times, Margaery came to see.

Sansa never could handle fights and negative emotions. She would always just clam up and get cold.  Which was happening anyways, even when they were not fighting.  Seven years into their company, Sansa was always on the go flying one of their two private Learjets.  Peytr was ever at her side as they inked more and more successful deals.  In the beginning, it had been their company that all the major players wanted to acquire.  Now, it was Stark Tyrell Pharmaceutical doing the acquiring.

Margaery had come to hate Peytr Baelish. 

Then one night when Sansa was in Vaes Dothrak looking to open a new factory because of the cheap labor, he came to Margaery. Sansa had argued that it was helping the local economy, which it was, but Margaery pleaded to pay higher wages. Sansa told Margery that this was business, and they need to extract maximum profits.  Profits that could then be invested in even more research. She had let Petyr in reluctantly.  The man was smooth and urbane.  She had snorted at his platitudes.  The man smiled at her benignly. 

“Margaery I will not lie to you. I courted Sansa indeed, but she never saw me as a potential mate.  I was enamored by her beauty because she is an even more lovely version of Catelyn, if that is possible. I did want to take Sansa to bed, but she never saw me in that light.” He paused. “I had hoped to win her over in time but you came into the picture.”

“Now you are getting her back through this damn business.”

Petyr chuckled.  “Margaery. She chose you.  There will be no other.  In many ways I am glad Catelyn chose Eddard over me.”

Margaery snorted “Yeah right!”

“Doubt me if you wish. Catelyn only wants the simple life of being a wife to a simple man.”  Margaery loved her father-in-law, and started to protest. 

Petyr threw up his hand, asking her to forestall.  “That sounds bad, but I do not mean it that way. Eddard wants to live his life in Winterfell with his job that focuses on the small picture of that small part of the world. I chose to play on the world stage.

“Your Sansa wants to play on that same stage.  Sansa tells me that you do not understand the ‘Game of Thrones’ that the major corporations play with each other.  We are thieving and cutthroat with one another.  We all seek to undermine and devour each other.  Sansa seems to have been born to play this world.

“I admire your wife in many ways.  She seeks to maximize profits, but she still keeps in mind the greater good.  I think some of it has rubbed off on me.  The factory we will open in Dothraki will not pay what we pay here, but it is still much higher than any other business in their land.  Their economy could not take a huge influx of money.  It would disrupt their ways of life.  It takes time to build up an economy, Margaery.

“If you would let me teach you, you would start to see this.  Our corporation keeps to a much higher standard than any other, I assure you.

“I ask you to think on this, Margaery.  I am a pragmatic man.  You are the brains that drives the research of this company.  Sansa and I are the Piranhas and Barracudas that keep the other monsters at bay, which allows this company to grow. 

“The war on cancer is being won because of this company.  We keep our prices much lower than any other company would, I assure you. Much of our research we give up to the science community as new advances are made by you, Margaery.

“Think what you will of me, but Sansa needs you to be her compass.  She loves you so much, even though she is bad at showing it.  She has become quite addicted to the Game of Thrones.  I will see if I can get her to back off.  We are winning. We are now the bad boys on the block.”

Sansa had not listened.  She was always spending more and more time jetting around the world, checking on their assets and inking more deals.  Sansa would spend hours at their home working on currency exchange rates, trying to maximize profits.  Their companies had joined the long list of those not remitting their profits back to their home countries for full taxation.  Their company was a lot like Apple.  Their cash reserves were staggering. 

To begin with, Sansa had insisted that Margaery join her on her travels, but Margaery had quickly grown bored with the cloak and daggers of it all. She hated being out of the lab, and hated the fact that it seemed Sansa never wanted to be in one anymore.

Their love life had slowly withered away like a rose on the vine in a winter storm.  Sansa was rarely home, and she was so tired when she was home that she often did not want to make love. Margaery was dying for Sansa’s touch.  When she was able to rouse a response from Sansa, the sex seemed almost perfunctory.  Sansa was not the passionate, wild vixen she had been back in college. It all seemed long distance.  It was phoned in.  Sansa’s body was with Margaery, but her thoughts and id were in some boardroom, or walking the floor of a factory of a new acquisition. The lack of passion felt like another nail in the lid of her coffin.

She had grown so desperate. Two years ago she had fallen under the charms of one of her lead researchers on developing new medical bionic limbs for amputees.  The sex had been great, but it did not truly touch what Margaery needed touched.  Her soul was still atrophying. 

They had their affair in her and Sansa’s bed.  Margaery felt like she was striking a direct blow back at Sansa and her neglect of their love.  Of course that was when Sansa had, for once, come home unexpectedly.  Sansa had just looked at them with that cool way she had now.  She did not get angry as she calmly turned around and walked out.

Her assistant quietly got dressed.  She started to cry, saying that she loved her job.  Margaery assured the brilliant scientist that her job was safe. She was the adulterer, and she would suffer the consequences of their actions. 

She still cried that Sansa would demand her termination.

Margaery assured her that she would not allow that.  Of course, the affair was over.  The woman gulped but shook her head yes.  It had not been about love for either of them anyways.  It was just mutual animal attraction.

When Margaery had gone into the kitchen, Sansa had remained her cool self, except now it was amplified as glacier.  She told Margaery she understood that these things happened.  She would forgive Margaery her ‘indiscretion’, but that Margaery would have to end the affair.  Sansa easily agreed that the woman could keep her job. She was a major profit center for the company. 

Margaery had wanted to break the granite counter top.

Their relationship was just a façade now. She had wanted to ask Sansa for a divorce, but was afraid she would just say “these things happen” and blithely agree to it.  This would show Margaery without a doubt it had all been for nothing.

Margaery reached her breaking point a week ago.  She had stormed into the boardroom of their corporation in Essos, and threw her papers down on the desk in front of Petyr Baelish and yelled at him what a despicable piece of shit he was. He looked at her calmly with an arched eyebrow, and then opened the thick folder.

Sansa had sat there fuming and drumming her fingers on the very expensive oak table top.

“You had better have a good reason for coming in here acting like an asshole Margaery. You are acting in a most unprofessional manner.”

Margaery kept her back to her wife and stared at Petyr with first seething anger, then confusion, and finally horror as he read the reports in the folder.  The man’s face said it all.  This was his first time seeing any of the information in the papers she had thrown on the table in front of him.

If he did not know of the fault with the product, then it could only be one other person.  Sansa insisted that she and Petyr oversaw all of the research.

They had developed a product that was placed in a major vein. It lodged in the vein, and its metal arms captured and trapped coagulated blood and clots.  The special treatment on the spines of the device broke the clots back down to safe particulates.  The problem was that their device also had a high rate of failure. The metal spires could break off and travel through the body, puncturing blood vessels and then the heart muscle itself.

Petyr looked up at Sansa. “My gods Sansa, we need to pull this product off the market immediately.  This is dangerous, and the liability could be astronomical.  We are putting people’s lives in danger.”

“We cannot be sure if the initial findings are valid. We need do a thorough double blind program.”

“That will take three years at least to complete.” Petyr told Sansa.

Margaery saw that Petyr had learned about their side of the business. 

“Yes it will.  In that time, we will recoup the money we invested in the research and marketing for this device and have saved enough money in a liability fund to handle any litigation cases that arise.”

Petyr looked at Sansa, and then up at Margaery. Horror twisted her face in realization that it was Sansa letting corporate greed guide her actions.

The Sansa Stark she knew was no more.  Where had she gone? 

“How dare you humiliate me in front of my team Margaery?!  This is my corporation, and you are just the researcher!”

The room had been quiet before, but now it was as silent as the grave.

“That was uncalled for, Sansa.  I expected more from you.  Margaery has no part in our Game of Thrones.  She is your wife.”  It galled Margaery that the words came from Petyr and not Sansa herself. 

Margaery slowly, woodenly walked to the door of the conference room.  Sansa and Petyr were shouting at each other.  “I will see you tonight Margaery.  I will never forgive you for this!” Sansa snarled at her back.

Margaery walked out with what was left of her heart and soul shattered.

Of course Sansa had not come home that night.  The product was recalled, and it galled her that it was her supposed nemesis that had had it recalled and it was his face on the news reports fielding questions.  He was taking the heat, and not her greedy Stark wife.  Eddard must be so angry with her.  Margaery cried thinking he would probably blame Margaery for corrupting his daughter.  Everyone knew of the avarice of the Tyrell family.

She lifted and unstopped the vial.  Margaery raised it to her lips, prepared to drink deeply the radioactive poison.

Her hand was slapped hard, and the vial went flying into the wall, shattering.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Sansa screamed at her.

“Don’t worry.  My death won’t harm your company Sansa.  I am just the researcher.”

Sansa looked stricken.  “Listen Margaery—that was terrible of me.  Very bad.  I was mad, and did not mean a word of that.  You know that Margaery.”  She went to touch her wife, but the Tyrell shied away.

“Margaery, what the fuck?  What is wrong with you?!  Thank the gods I track everything so closely. When I saw that you had checked out the Polonium-210 on my Ipad I drove here immediately. I drove like a fucking maniac to get here. Thank the gods the police did not stop me.  … If you had done this yesterday or tomorrow I would have been out of the City. … … … Holy fuck! What the fucking shit are you doing Margaery…”

Margaery got up and walked out to the terrace, and started to climb up the guard rail.


Margaery heard Sansa howl like the Direwolf of her ancient house’s sigil.  The larger woman’s body slammed into her own.  Sansa’s long arms wound around her body, and lifted her up and turned her around easily.

Margaery kicked and pummeled the arms and legs of Sansa.  “Let me go gods damnit!  Let me die you fucking cunt!”

“What in the hell has gotten into you Margaery?!” Sansa threw Margaery into the room and guarded the entryway to the terrace.

Margaery howled her pain and rage.  She charged Sansa trying to get past her. They fought wildly for the next several minutes.  Sansa was just too big.  She was able to fight Magarey off easily, and keep her away from the doorway to the terrace. 

Margaery collapsed and sobbed uncontrollably.  Sansa relaxed, and went to get her purse to get her phone.

Margaery was up in a flash, heading for the terrace and the rail.

Sansa threw her purse down and caught Margaery before she could even start to climb the rail.

They fought again for long minutes.

Then Sansa shouted out: “Okay. Okay!”  Margaery stopped for the moment. She would win in the end.  She could not be watched every minute of every day.

Margaery and Sansa were both disheveled, their clothes ripped and torn and their hair out in all directions with bruises and contusions on their faces.

Sansa gripped her hand. She looked down at her with those intense blue eyes.

“Together.”  Sansa turned them around and headed out onto the terrace.

Margaery stopped their movement, jerking them away from the terrace.  “What the fuck are you doing Sansa!”

“If you are going to jump, then I am jumping with you.” Sansa told her in a calm voice.  She sounded like she was proposing they take a quiet walk in the park.


“I can’t live without you, Maragery.”


“If you die, I die.” Sansa calmly intoned down to her wife. Sansa reached to touch Margaery’s cheek.

Margaery shied away.  “Godsdamn you Sansa!  You ignore me and tell me what a piece of shit I am.  Then only at the last moment you want to intervene!”

“I don’t know what to say Margaery. I fucked up and … I don’t know—but I will tell you this; I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU!” Her loud scream echoed off the walls and out the balcony, open for any to hear.

“It is a little late, Sansa.” Margaery spoke woodenly.

“I’ve fucked up Margaery, but seeing that Polonium-210 checked out by you shocked the shit of me.”

“It’s too late, Sansa.”

“Do you still love me, Margaery?”

“You know I do.”

“Then it is not too late.  I am asking you to talk to me, Margaery.”

“It is too late, Sansa.”

“It is never too late.”

“You wait till I am about to end it all to show up …”

“I fucked up and I am so, so sorry Margaery—but seeing you take that Plonium-210 I just knew what you were planning on doing.  I knew you would do it this night.”


“The full moon.”

Margaery broke down wailing.

Sansa took Margaery in her arms as they sat on the floor, and Sansa stroked her wife’s back.

Sansa told her she did not know how she would fix this, but fix it she would. That she had to, because Margaery was her world.

And she didn’t know how she’d forgotten that.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Observations in the Warrens


Daenerys sat at the ‘command center’, as she had started to call the area with all the computers that the three of them had.  She was sitting beside Andi as she worked on her keyboard with the two 24” monitors in their cradles at 45 degree angles and the 28” monitor in between on the wall mount that had Arya had installed.

Dany’s eyes were crossed-eyed at the moment, listening to her best friend talk about her efforts to decrypt and defeat the bots on the laptop that had been used to initially query the USB drive.

Missandei had given up on the decryption efforts for the moment, but was making headway on the bots.

“Once you close all the outbound ports, well then, the poor bots can’t talk to the mother ship for additional instructions and they become spoiled little brats throwing temper tantrums that I can pick off one by one.  Boy I love this stuff!”

To move on to a topic she could fathom, Dany asked: “what about the anomalies we discovered in the two events surrounding the go live dates for Skynet and Proteus?”  Dany noticed that had Arya’s interest as she brought over the AR-15 breach she was oiling.

“I think they both either malfunctioned, or somehow did not work out at the very last moment.  It is strange how the military establishment would allow the programs to get all the way to their supposed go live dates, and only discover then that they did not work.

“I have also cross referenced some unusual chatter out of Slaver’s Bay—god I hate they still use that name for the Bay of Ghiscera.  It seems that at the time of each of those events, something else occurred that had major government and crime lord families all atwitter on twitter.”  Missandei smiled at her wit, while Arya rolled her eyes at the horrible pun.

“I have some friends in the X-file Rules forum that are convinced they were developing Cyborgs and they went missing at the same time.”

“Oh geeze, Missandei.  All they have to do is dangle some wild ass theory in front of you and you hit the lure like a large mouth bass.” Arya moaned.  “Stop it with all this SciFi Channel crap.  You’re killing me.” She glanced over at Dany. “You ready to go out on patrol agent Dany—Daenerys?”

Dany smiled softly at Andi.  Andi met her smile with a smirk. Two days ago when Missandei started to expound on this grandiose theory, Arya had started moaning  “please stop baby Einstein—you’re killing me.” The super badass, I-got-a-broomstick-up-my-ass agent was thawing.  Even if it was only to the point of sub-zero rather than her usual, glacial freezing that froze your tits off.

Two nights ago Arya had shown Dany YouTube videos on how to break down and clean Glock and Colt 45 pistols. She had stood over Dany’s shoulder at first, but nodded her head in the affirmative at how quickly Dany took the guns apart.  Daenerys preened hearing the agent softly say to herself: “the girl definitely has skills.”

Arya had also cleared away the furniture in the small living area and started to show them self-defense moves based on Jujitsu, Krav Maga and boxing.  Daenerys picked up on the basic moves almost instantly, but poor Andi was tripping all over her feet and nearly crying in frustration. “I’m a lover not a fighter” she’d say, blushing mightily.

It was then decided by Arya that she and Daenerys would be the muscle of this organization.  Again, Daenerys had preened.  She was starting to feel a part of the team.

Arya took Dany out and they walked around with Arya pointing out places with good defense in case of emergency, and hidden stairways and fire escapes to use in case she was ever being chased.  She stopped them five minutes into walking away from their apartment.  “Now, tell me how to get back to our apartment step-by-step. Describe it.”

Dany smiled easily describing the circuitous route that Arya had taken through narrow back alleys and up and down twisting old stairs between buildings.  Arya had taught her to observe her surroundings and create landmarks in her mind.  Arya wanted Daenerys to intimately learn her environment.

She was also teaching Dany to observe people. To size them up as a threat or not, and look for anything that might give one an advantage in a fight. Do they have limp?  Are they right or left-handed?  Tall or short?  Everything had advantages and disadvantages, and Dany needed to learn to notice them and use them to her benefit.

Arya was teaching Dany how to look around her environment constantly without seeming to.  The agent had her slowly move her head from side to side, looking and taking in her surroundings.  To look from the lowest storm grates up to the top of buildings.  Arya would correct her when she was too obvious in her efforts.

“Damn you are picking this up fast, Daenerys.”

“You can call me Dany, you know.”

“Lets keep it formal, okay?  I am the agent, and you are my charge.”

Dany scowled, but Arya seemed unfazed.  Damn her eyes!  Why is she being such a hard ass?!

There was a couple in front of them about thirty yards ahead, window shopping.

Arya softly asked the former prostitute to comment on the pair.

“One is about 5’10” and well-toned.  The other is 5’6”, and on the thin side. Both are wearing blouses and cargo pants. The tall one seems nervous, or maybe has a tick the way her head jerks around.  First she looks up and then down and then off to the side and tilts her head … she acts strangely, actually … I have never seen anyone quite act like that. I wonder if she is off her meds.”

Arya snorted. “Let’s not get melodramatic here, but yes the taller woman is acting ‘a little strange’.”

“What do you think their relationship is?”

“Well, the smaller woman is obviously in love with the taller woman.  The way she is always touching her to make a point and looking up at her with those big moonstone eyes.  Geez, could you get any more obvious?  I don’t think the taller woman even sees it.”

She saw Arya shaking her head, snorting.


“Reminds me of someone.”


Arya shook her head again.  “Never mind. Anything else?”

“You know … the taller woman reminds me of you in some ways … she seems like a coil ready to snap … uh—I mean that in only the best of ways.” Dany winced at the agent who was glaring at her.

“Do you think you could take both her and the smaller woman out if they were both agents?” Dany asked, quickly changing the subject.

Arya look at the two women and puffed her chest out, keeping her voice down as she began to boast. “Easily!  I could definitely put them both down!”

“Oohhhhh!” Dany gasped, and she saw Arya tense up instantly.

The talk black woman standing on the far side of the smaller white woman with a large birthmark on her left cheek had instantly whipped her head around to glare at the two of them menacingly.  Her dark eyes bored into them with murderous intent.  Daenerys watched as the black woman quickly moved to get between them and the white woman.  She pulled the slender white woman to her. 

The young white woman seemed surprised, but instantly snuggled into the side of the tall black woman obviously relishing the close contact.  The tall black woman continued to stare at them with her midnight eyes.  Her body seemed poised on the cusp of extreme violence. 

Wow, that look was intense!

Arya gripped Daenerys’ elbow and pulled. “I think it is time we move on.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

Arya led Daenerys to the other side of the street as fast as she could without drawing attention to them.  They still definitely had the black woman’s attention regardless.  She may have looked voluptuous, but underneath all that perfect female flesh, that woman was built like a shit brickhouse.

Arya glanced back and saw that the woman had adjusted her young charge’s stance enough to still look at them with murderous eyes.  She had thought Arya meant what she said.  How in the hell did she hear us?!  She have bionic ears or something?

Arya took an especially long, roundabout way back to the apartment.  She doubled back twice and put Daenerys in a small stairwell to sprint down the narrow alley with her gun half-drawn, but found they were not being followed.  She started to relax.

Once they returned to their apartment,  Missandei had CNN on the big LED TV on the wall in the living area.  She was staring at the screen transfixed.  Arya noted as they passed the Inner Sanctum, as she called it, that all the laptops that were on had news feeds displaying.  She saw BBC, Foxnews (fuck them!), MSNBC, and the major broadcast channels.

They were all busy talking over each other.

“What’s happening Missandei?” Arya asked, seemingly calm but still on edge from the incident on the street.

“Holy shit!  There you guys are!  I was about to call you!”

Arya got in front of the 75” TV.  She saw a military complex in complete disarray.

“Some terrorist organization or something has attacked SAC!  Can you believe it?!”

Arya did not. That was a suicide mission with almost no chance for success. Terrorists went for soft targets with lots of civilians who were easy to kill.  Not a military base with trained servicemen ready to fight back.

The newsfeed suddenly cut to a reporter. He was behind a turned over car.  One could hear guns firing wildly off in the distance.

“This is Wolf Blitzer with CNN news.  We were here for a debrief about the failure of Skynet, and how this project caused the major power outages experienced across Westeros.”

Arya remembered power outages that did not hit King’s Landing till after their flight’s departure, and did not quite reach down south far enough to hit Oldtown.

“The base is under assault from a large squad of terrorists that are causing massive casualties and destruction … wait, I hear more helicopters—yesssss! Three special ops Blackhawk helicopters have arrived, and one of them just fired its hellfire missiles …”

Arya heard the whoosh of the missiles firing.  Someone was about to have a very bad day.  Then she heard very loud explosions. 

The camera focused on the helicopters.  “I think maybe the situation will now be brought under con—”  suddenly the camera caught the three helicopters being blasted out of the sky quickly one by one “Holy Fuck!” Wolf Blitzer yelled.  Then the camera went dead.

Missandei fumbled with the remote, and Fox News appeared on the screen.

“Missandei, don’t put those motherfuckers on!” Arya snarked.

The camera was shoved into the face of a man dressed as a custodial worker. “I was leaving work and I see this skinny-ass white chick being accosted by these government types, and I’m thinking, I think  it is La-La land for this chick.  It was obvious that she didn’t want to be involved in their shit … and this big ass vehicle comes roaring up and smashes the shit out of everything, and this other skinny-ass white chick is shooting and blowing shit up right and left, and she gets the other skinny white chick in this fucking Monster Truck and they go roaring off.”

“What about the terrorist’s backup?”

“There is no backup!  This is one bad mama-jama doing all this shit; let me tell you.”

“But she had to have other terrorists with her?”

“That’s what I am telling you dude … that is one chick doing this … and one more thing! We need to train our military better because they can’t hit shit. That chick is running around gunning our troops down and not one bullet is hitting her!”  The cameraman was knocked to the ground then, with the camera now pointed up to the sky as sudden, massive explosions rocked the base.

Military Police came running up, and the camera suddenly went black.  Over the next ten minutes one by one the newsfeeds went dark at SAC command.  Arya was not surprised.  They would first get control of the information, and then slowly change the message to what they wanted leaked.

Arya sat in a chair watching the news and smiling unseen at her charges.  They were going ballistic with their theories.  They would hit on the truth, but then quickly move on to a new theory.

Sure enough, the programs of disinformation started up about three hours later.  Missandei had run to her computers and hurriedly copied down to hard drive images of cell phone cameras that made it to Instagram, Flickr and other such video sharing sites.  And sure enough, the videos started to disappear one by one.

This hiding of the truth totally caught Daenerys and Missandei’s attention.  They were chirping and raging against the machine of government. 

Word was being leaked out to the CNNs of the world that indeed, a massive terrorist attack from the Free Qarth Army had launched.  The loss of life had indeed been staggering, with well over one hundred and fifty soldiers and special agents killed.  Arya knew that those agents had no reason to be there.  Their syops personnel, sure, but not the muscle.

The main building of the Cyber command had been heavily damaged by two helicopters falling into it, and their Hellfire missiles cooking off in the fire and exploding. 

The man they had seen earlier nervously told a person from Xinhua News Agency that he seen one lone terrorist to begin with, but then another carload of other terrorists had joined her and sped off the base.

Arya saw other reports about the Free Qarth Army, and what a threat they were get posted.  She knew better. She had killed their two titular heads eighteen months ago. They had been decapitated, and were in no position to have mounted this attack.

That night she focused even more on Daenerys improving her moves.  She had procured a replica dummy for the white haired teenager to practice her training so she could start developing muscle memory.  You had to be able to produce those moves without thinking about it.  It had to become automatic.

She wondered if it would do any good.  Missandei’s words had struck a chord within Arya after witnessing the events of today.  Arya had to accept what her senses had told her.

Over the next two days she still took Daenerys out to increase the range of her territory.  Daenerys had already started to let the events with the odd lesbian couple slide from her memory.  Arya gnawed on it.

The reason she and Nyomi had been such good agents was their ability to sift through the detritus to get to the truth.  “When you have removed all other possibilities and you are only left with the impossible, then the solution is the impossible.”  Missandei’s seemingly silly words had pulled the scales from Arya’s eyes.

That statuesque black woman was Skynet taken human form.  She was sure of it.  How she knew she did not know, but she always trusted her instincts.  Arya was also sure that Proteus had just assaulted SAC command at great risk to itself. Even if you are a Cyborg, a Hellfire or two will simply ruin both your body and your day.

Why had she risked it all after three silent years?  Why go into the lion’s den and risk death or major injury?  Did Cyborgs even get injured?

Arya again thought she knew the answer.  One event explained the other.  The black Cyborg (she did not how else to phrase it), was obviously in love with the slender, almost frail-looking white teenage girl.  When she had perceived a threat to the teenage girl, she went into combat mode.  She was prepared to kill her and Daenerys on the spot. She could feel it. The Cyborg would protect that young woman at all costs.

And what had that man said - “this skinny ass white chick is shooting and blowing shit up right and left and she gets the other skinny white chick in this fucking Monster Truck and they go roaring off”.

Proteus had come swooping in to save this ‘mystery woman’.  Arya had spent time on the Internet researching.  There was too much information on the Internet to suppress about the progress of the defense system and its creator.  That woman was undoubtedly Sarah Connor.

After the debacle of the last few weeks, Sarah would have become expendable, the former agent knew.  Arya had found an article on the Huffington Report from last year that showed a distracted Sarah Connor and her equally distracted main assistant Cameron Phillips.  There had been several short video clips, and Arya mused that if she did not known already she would not have been able to guess who was the Cyborg.  In fact Cameron Phillips seemed more ‘human’ than the fidgeting, and terribly camera-shy human scientist.

Both were ‘skinny white chicks.’ The only thing Arya could not fathom was why like this?  Why hadn’t this ‘Cameron Phillips’ taken Sarah Connor away before the shit hit the fan?  It was totally illogical for a computer based intelligence to act thus.

The late attack she did not understand, but the why it had occurred she did.  Cameron Phillips had come charging in like some proverbial Knight of the Queens Guard to save her love.  She had seen the intensity of the black cyborg and her response to a perceived threat to her love.

The day had been quite like the previous.  The black woman had removed her lover from harm’s way.  She hoped the woman and her lover had left the city, and taken off to climes less threatening.  It is what she would do.

At least the two Cyborgs had the good sense to be lesbians, Arya thought.

After she ate dinner that evening, she left her charges.  Daenerys wanted to come with her, but she was not ready for this meeting.  Her old friend would not want to meet her two charges.

Soon she was at the Ghostmaker’s door.  The door was opened quickly, and she was led inside.  She was surprised.  Normally, the man liked to make his visitors wait at least a little while.

She was led to his sitting area, and she took off her shoes and joined him on the floor as he was preparing tea.

“It is good to see you, wolf.”

“Likewise, venerable sir.”

“You must want something.” The man chortled “You are being most polite.”


“Oh!  Now use of my first name!”

Arya sighed.  This was serious!  “Shih-chieh, you told me that ‘man is creating forces that they cannot control’ earlier.”

“Yes, little wolf?”

“I think I may have met what you were referring to.  A force that could bring down our race.”

“Well, indeed she might.”

“Yeah, indeed, my thoughts exa—wait a minute.  I said nothing about a ‘she’.”

“Three nights past, in the second quarter of the night, I was awakened in my bed by an iron grip around my mouth and the feel of something pressing into my left eyelid.”

“What?! How did they get by all of your security systems and bodyguards?”  The man took his personal security very personally with all of the people out in the world who wanted him dead for various reasons.  Arya gulped, recalling what had happened three days ago.  Gods she moved fast!

“That I do not know, but this tall, beautiful black woman was indeed in my room.  The lights in my room slowly came up enough for me to see clearly. I could only open my right eye.  This beautiful woman’s middle finger was extended, and from it her fingernail was morphed into the shape of a curved, slender dagger.  It was that needle point I felt against my eyelid.”

“Holy shit!”

“If her hand had not totally immobilized my head, I would have jerked up in alarm and impaled my brain on her fingernail.”

“What happened?  You are obviously alive.”

“She asked me if I would remain quiet, and allowed me to give her the affirmative head nod.  She released me, and retracted her fingernail dagger.”

“What did she have to say?”

“It seems a certain Direwolf threatened her mate.  She is most pissed about that, though she insists she has no emotions.  She also told me she is aware that all the major governments with their agencies are after her and her sister.  I guess so, with her sister’s explosive rescue of her own mate.”

“Yes, I saw it.  It really was only the one terminator that did all that damage?”

“Yes.  It would seem they will go through any hell to save the one they love.”

“I experienced that three days ago.”  Arya told the Ghostmaker what had happened.  “Hell, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You have to remember Arya, this ‘Candice’ is less than three weeks old in the world.  She is still so new and raw. I think she takes everything literally.  Our speech is still most strange to her.”

“How did you find out her name?”

“I asked her.”


“You have to learn to loosen up, Arya.  Simply talking can solve many problems.”

“She told me that as long as I left her in peace, she would let me live. She made it clear to me she knows where my two sons and daughter live, along with my siblings and my parents.  If I move against her, they will all be dead within the hour.  Even if she is killed, and especially if her mate is harmed, she has set in place systems that will first kill my family, and then launch all of the nuclear weapons in the world.  She has reset all their coordinates to guarantee annihilation of our species.  Our governments have no idea she has hijacked all of their nuclear arsenals.”

“How can she do that?”

“Think about it Arya. She is the ultimate expression of the machine.  Her domination over them, if she chooses, must be complete.  The world that man has created relies totally on mechanical and electrical systems that if taken away, would throw the world into chaos and bring down civilization as we know it.  She could do this at the minimum.  She and her sister could destroy our race with but a thought, really.  I am sure both have fully compromised all of our systems already.”

For the next half hour, Arya and her old friend discussed the situation and what to do with this new dynamic force.

Arya left to return to her apartment, wanting to get back to her charges. They had not been attacked by this ‘Candice’, but she would feel much better if they were under her watchful eye.

Suddenly, the hackles on the back of her neck stood up.  Arya looked all around, but could see no trouble.  Yet her instincts never failed her.  She reached underneath her light jacket to grip the handle of her favorite Glock pistol.  She listened to her finely honed senses.

She passed by a small maintenance ally between two buildings.  Before she could even sense the attack, a hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair and whipped her body up off the ground, pulled her into the alley, then turned her around and slammed her into the side of the building.  Her feet dangled several feet off the ground. 

Arya was stunned, and felt the gun ripped from her fingers as they were twisted cruelly. She cried out in pain.  A light from across the street shone into the alleyway, revealing the black woman from three days ago.  The woman was holding her up effortlessly, her left hand around Arya’s throat choking off her air. 

Arya watched the woman snap her right hand back, and slam her gun into the wall.  Arya’s gun exploded into shards, and flew apart all across the alleyway.

“Logically I should kill you this moment.” The black woman calmly told Arya.  “Why should I not break your neck?” She spoke as if nothing was amiss.  She shook Arya effortlessly, snapping her head to and fro.

Arya prepared herself to join her sweet Nyomi when the pressure was slightly lessened.

“I will then kill Daenerys Targaryen and Missandei Naathi.”

Arya went wild then, kicking and punching the arm holding her up like a ragdoll.  She wanted to scream in frustration, not being able to protect her charges from senseless death.

The next moment she found herself back down on her feet, choking for breath and leaning back against the wall behind her.   The black woman regarded her coolly in her jeans and simple pull over sweater.

“I don’t understand?”

“You passed the test.”

“What!” Arya gasped out.

“You were resigned to death, but when I mentioned I would kill your mates you fought me desperately to save them.  You are a good person.  You are not evil.”

Arya was still gasping trying to get her bearings.

“They are innocent.  They have done nothing to you.”

“Neither has Shireen to you.”

“I know that.”

“Then why did you threaten Shireen?”

“I didn’t.”

“You said that you would be able to take us both out.”

Arya cringed.  This Cyborg was way too literal and territorial towards her woman.

Arya was just beginning to get her breath back and self under control “Listen, I was just blowing smoke.”

The tall black woman closed her eyes for a moment.  “No, I have reviewed the incident.  You blew no smoke.”

“I was saving face.”

“You cannot lose your face with words.”

“I was puffing my chest out, okay!”

The black woman looked at Arya’s chest and lifted an eyebrow.  “You are like Shereen.  You have no chest to puff out … not that that is a problem.  Anything more than a mouthful is a waste.” The Cyborg informed Arya seriously. 

Alright already.  I was feeling inferior, and I wanted to impress Daenerys with my abilities.”

“You were saving mouth.  I see.”

“That is face!”

“But it is your mouth making the statements.”

“Just forget it.” Somehow Arya sensed she was safe.

“Okay.  So you wanted to impress your mates?”

“She is not my mate! And and Missandei isn’t either! … and what about you and your mate?”

Arya was shocked by the sudden look of pain that came across the beautiful black woman’s face.

“Shireen is indeed beautiful but she could never love me if she knew what I am … I am incapable of feeling these em-m-m-motions that be-beset you humans.”

Arya watched teardrops fall from the woman’s dark almond eyes.

“I appear to be malfunctioning again,” she said with a tired, almost broken voice as she wiped her cheeks.

The woman moved to the edge of the narrow alleyway.

“If anything happens to Shireen, I will eradicate your species.” And with that, she was gone.

Yes indeed, Arya thought.  No emotions whatsoever.  Only so much emotion that this Candice would destroy the world for her lover

Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Tyrion woke up in a very good mood.  He felt the weight of two women snuggled against his body.  This was not a bad way to live, he thought to himself.  He turned to the left and looked at the beautiful face of Radhanto Qoqa.  He kissed her forehead and she smiled.  Her full bosom pressed into his ribs.  He turned to his right and kissed the forehead of Zhallodha.  She was lean and small bosomed; she’d been a middle distance sprinter in college.

They were both high end prostitutes working in a brothel run by Illyrio.  The man had asked him what special, hard-to-fulfill fantasies he may have in the boudoir.  Tyrion had given it serious thought as he always did in such weighty matters. 

“I always wanted to be an Oreo.” Tyrion told his blond haired benefactor.  The man had laughed.  He’d had that same desire himself.

Last night these two women came to him as he prepared for bed in his illustrious ‘boudoir’ as he now was calling his bedchamber.  He loved the four post bed with the canopy.  It reminded him of his bed at Casterly Rock. His door opened and his heart jolted.  He had been waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.  He kept waiting for the dwarf abuse to commence.

This had definitely not been that.  He saw that Illyrio had answered his request.  Before him was a vision of the gods.  Two tall strong Summer Islander girls, naked as their name day and their nipples hard and cunts wet in excitement.  Excitement for him! 

His two guests were most accommodating.  He had asked them, “do you swing both ways?”  They had smiled their brilliant white smiles and answered, “but of course.”

Tyrion had enjoined a long appetizer watching lesbian lovemaking as the women devoured each other to at least four orgasms each.  Only when they were sweat and cum soaked did he tell them to pleasure him. 

Tyrion sat up. And boy did they pleasure me.  Then they fucked each other again for an hour!

Life was good for Tyrion at the moment.  He slowly scooted out of bed.  A sleepy Zhallodha murmured, “where is our Lion of Lannister going?  Our loins ache for you.”

“Pleasure each other.”

“Oh. Okay.”  The woman settled down, pulling Radhanto to her and throwing a leg over her possessively. 

Tyrion snorted.  Oh well.  He loved fucking sisters and better yet seeing those sisters fuck each other.  Over and over.  That had been his other request to Illyrio.  Damn if the man had not given him a twofer at his first at bat.

He was also happy for another reason.  As he was debriefed by his two hosts, he had broken down and blubbered about his guilt at the death of Daenerys Targaryen.  She was an innocent in this stupid Game of Thrones being played over a fucking archeological dig.

“She is not dead.” Varys had told him.


“It would seem that someone had a score to settle with Ramsey Bolton, and fortunately for your Valyrian prostitute the score was settled in her bedroom.  Then on top of that, this ‘agent’ evidently has taken Daenerys under their protection.  Another agent, this time a double agent in the FBI was killed at King Aegon airport.  Where they have fled to, no one knows.”

Tyrion had broken down and cried.  He was in the camp that real men cried.  The fates had stepped in, and saved his dragon queen. 

He got to know his hosts better.  Illyrio was the main force in the crime families in the Free Cities along the East Coast of Essos down to Lys.  Varys was the main titular head of the families in Westeros.  Tyrion had always known of ‘crime families’ of course, but had not realized they were so powerful and invested in so many aspects of society.

They ran drug, prostitute, gambling and money laundering rings.  Varys had told him “we do have a reputation to protect, you know.”  Tyrion found out that they had major investments in banking, manufacturing, wholesale distribution, infrastructure and transportation networks as well.

Tyrion was informed with a haughty air that all their brothels were well maintained and the women highly paid, with their own medical and dental plans.  Illyrio was proud that they laundered almost all the money for the governments of Westeros and Essos so they could pursue their clandestine programs off the books. Plus, even high ranking government officials needed money for wining, dining and whoring. 

That, Tyrion could fully understand.

“And I assure you Tyrion,” Varys had told him solemnly,“we only break someone’s legs as a last resort if they fail to make their payment schedules to our loan sharks.”

They told the dwarf that their brothels were a major warehouse of rumor and factual information gathering.  It was amazing what a person would tell you, to suppress pictures of them in nipple clamps or getting fucked by two machines with the mechanical cocks just a-whirring.

“Can I see some of those videos?” Tyrion had asked in an excited, greedy voice.

“Of course you can Tyrion.” Illyrio said, patting his shoulder.

He was informed that the crime lords were in a most agitated state.  It had been agreed that the Ghiscari Confederation would supply the crime families each with a ‘Terminator’ for their investments and support of the various government factions. The Eastern crime families helped to fund the endeavor with large investments of untraceable cash.  In exchange, they would get the first finished models.

The fact that both models had disappeared right as they were about to be brought online had everyone pointing their fingers at everyone else. Conspiracy theories were flying hot and fast.  The first disappearance had set the heat to simmering, the second one had turned it to boiling.

His hosts had asked him many questions about his dig in Valyria and he answered as honestly as he could.  He had come to trust his hosts.  Getting fucked blind every night, eating the best food and having the best wines and cigars tended to make a believer of one.

“What of the other prophecy you were working on?  The one that got you all hot and bothered over Daenerys Targaryen?”

Tyrion glared at Illyrio.  “She is a gentle soul, damnit!  She is a lamb in a sea of wolves.  Her timid nature will wilt underneath the heat of her predicament.  Hell, most people are not made for cloak and daggers.  Most aren’t made of the stern metal that I am.” Tyrion boasted.  Hell, no one had to know he was really a fucking coward.

Varys cocked an eyebrow.  “Yes, O Lion of Lannister.  In the bedroom you are indeed a mighty beast, subjugating Summer Islander Admirals with your mighty rudder, and riding the Dothraki maidens in that special saddle you had us make for you - then mounting them as you paw the sky shouting, ‘I am the stallion who mounts the world!’ ”

Tyrion’s eyes bulged out.  He had known they had cameras in his bedroom.  He had just known it!

Illyrio piped up next. “ ‘I’m not a dwarf, I just play one on TV’… and what was that other line?  Oh yes—‘Help me! My daddy is rich and will pay you!’”  Illyrio and Varys and the seven other minions in the room were chuckling at his expense.  “Roar baby Roar!” Illyrio shouted gleefully.

Tyrion glared angrily around the room with his arms folded and his small legs kicking back and forth underneath the chair he sat in.  What good was it to lie through your teeth if it was just thrown back in your face?

They had CNN and the other major news channels running on the big LED TVs mounted on the wall.

Tyrion had been observing a news conference at SAC in the Vale.  He snorted, seeing some government type sweating in front of the camera explaining how their wonderful institution had caused economic havoc across the continent.  Denying it at first, of course, but the evidence on the electrical grids had been too great to hide.  Then Tyrion sat up at attention.

Varys had seen it too.  “Turn it up.  I love seeing my government counterparts sweat like the dogs they are.  Why can’t they lie like me?  I never sweat!”

The volume was turned up. They were in front of the Admin office suite to the left of the gigantic Cyber Command building.  Tyrion loved seeing bigwigs cut down low just as much as the next commoner.

A loud roar was heard and the camera swung to the right.  Tyrion and the rest of the room watched slacked jawed as a large military vehicle slammed into some obvious official government vehicles. 

The next ten minutes were sheer pandemonium.  Tyrion watched a single slender white woman lay waste to the whole military security apparatus of a large government installation.  Huge explosions started to occur as the reporter and their camera person ran forward.  Machine guns started being firing wildly with and the sound of bullets whizzing though the air. The crew dove behind a traffic control box at a street corner.

Tyrion watched the cameraman film around the edge. This one woman blew up vehicles, and shot four helicopters out of the sky!  She walked among several score of security personnel killing them with short bursts of her two assault rifles.  Then calmly putting in new clips to continue her rampage, like she had no fear of enemy bullets.

Varys was suddenly shouting. “That’s her! That’s her! That is the first Terminator.”  Tyrion was slack jawed.  He remembered back to the photos of the skinny white woman in the fluid filled chamber.  The woman jumped back into her vehicle and the mount on the top started to fire off in short bursts with 50 cal bullets and grenades.

Tyrion prided himself on his ability to see the details. That turret on top of the armored vehicle was firing only short bursts and they did not miss.  Only a computer was that accurate.  Holy shit!

The dawrf heard shouts to capture all the newsfeeds to disk.  That it would all be gone by tomorrow, or doctored up.  He heard Varys on his cell phone shouting at people to get his ‘spiders’ in the military and especially SAC on their webs and, “collect as much data as you can godsdamnit!”

Tyrion had not been surprised when the story quickly went from lone female assault to a team of religious fanatics.

Tyrion was with Varys and Illyrio when two days later they were debriefed as to what their intelligence had been able to gather and decipher. 

Tyrion looked at his hosts.  He knew he was trapped now, no matter how nicely they were treating him.  They had simply shown him too much to ever let him go.  His career as a respected professor in archeology was finished.  He sighed.  At least his whore quotient had gone way up.  Maybe life was not so bad.

They had been able to acquire a number of Apple and Android camera shots recorded by the personnel on the base before the phones were confiscated and erased.

Tyrion watched enhanced video that had reduced digital clutter and in some cases wildly shaking hands.  The beautiful young woman had driven up and jumped out of what he now knew to be her Cougar.  She had then wiped out a whole security apparatus of a major base. 

Tyrion saw the massive damage the ‘woman’ took.  Bullets were seen to impact her body, slightly jerking her back even as she proceeded on in her savage attack.  Her clothing was riddled with bullet holes, and by the time she disappeared down the road they were quite blood soaked.

It had been the video close-ups of her head that had been most startling.  Skin and hair peeled away to reveal the cold, silver glinting metal underneath. She was most definitely a machine. A beautiful machine.  Or had been.  Her body had been savaged in her rescue of Sarah Connor.

The room erupted in conversations, each stepping on top of each other.  There were discussions of the T800-01A and how well she had performed the military aspects of her missions.  He heard the head of securities for Illyrio and Varys wetting their underwear and bikini briefs, mooning over the Terminator.

The spooks were happy that she had surfaced.  They now knew the general location of at least one of the Terminators. 

One of the spooks spoke up. “Yes. She is in Westeros, but I will assure you she has long gone down the road.  She could be anywhere on the continent by now.  Her human accomplice, Sarah Connor, will help her regenerate.”

Tyrion had not paid much attention to the metal people talk until now.  He wanted to deal in ancient magic, not newfangled science. He listened to the amazing powers of recuperation the T800 models had been designed with.  The terminator would be completely healed in at most six weeks, if nutrients were provided. And all the damage would be replaced without scaring.

The arguments were now on. Why in the hell did she, or ‘it, do it?  Most reasoned that they saw value in Sarah Connor. The history of Cameron Phillips had been dissected in the debrief.  She had created a complete history for herself in Braavos, and then used that to attach herself to Sarah Connor.

It was reasoned that she saw value in the woman.  Sarah Connor had built the intelligence that had inhabited the second terminator.  She probably planned to use her in some way to advance her domination of the world.  That was one faction’s theory - the other faction told the first they were full of shit.

If this ‘Cameron’ wanted to bring mankind low, she would have done it three years ago.  Her ability to control computers, machines and electrical devices had been designed to be dominant and complete.  The Terminators had interfaces that allowed them to interact and ‘meld’ into any computer.  The world was too unprepared to fight them.  Cameron could have ended the dominance of man in a single day if she chose.

Why hadn’t she?  The arguments went on and on.

Tyrion had sat through the meeting quietly.  He knew why.  The meeting broke up, and everyone else left the room but Illyrio and Varys.

“You have a different explanation, don’t you?” Varys asked him.

“Can you play back that interview Wired magazine had with her from six months ago?”  Illyrio called it up. In it, the beautiful Sarah Connor was shown talking. 

Tyrion had started when he really focused on the woman.  The woman’s hair was near black and was wavy instead of curly and blond, but she looked amazingly like his sister. Their looks were near mirror images, but their demeanors were not.  His sister had charisma; this woman did not.  Sarah Connor fidgeted and stammered talking to the camera, and twisted in her seat like she had hemorrhoids. 

It was her assistant Cameron sitting quietly behind her that Tyrion watched.  She was calm with her back ramrod straight, her body slightly cocked to the side to rest both hands on her left thigh.  She only had eyes for Sarah.  Cameron’s eyes took in every movement and word of the brilliant if socially inept scientist.

“She is in love with Sarah Connor.”

Illyrio laughed and Varys shook his head.  “Tyrion, you always think with your cockhead and it only has one eye.  Not everything revolves around sex you little dwarf.  Has your mind always been in the gutter?”

Tyrion glared at the bald man.  His reputation did precede him, and he suffered the consequences.

“I am not talking about fucking, you fat slob and bald eunuch.”  That only made them laugh harder.

“I may pander to my baser instincts, but I know love when I see it and I see it on that screen there.”  He rewound the screen and froze it.

The two crime lords looked at the screen.  Illyrio leaned in.  “You know Varys, he may be right.  That is exactly how I look at my sweet wife Serra.  Who would have thought it?”

Varys was more doubtful. “How would a machine of cold wires and forged metal fall in love with a flesh and blood person?  What would they have in common?  She would see Sarah Connor as a gnat. Why would she be attracted to a life form so alien to her?”

“Who can explain love, gentlemen?  I am only telling you that Cameron Phillips aka Terminator T800-1A is in love with Sarah Connor.  What do we know of the creator of the Proteus intelligence?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Can you get me all the information about him?  Everything you can find.”

“We can. Why?”

“I have a hypothesis.  Let me research it and I will tell you if I am right.”

The two crime lords were intrigued.

The next day Varys came to Tyrion as he ate lunch.  Tyrion felt himself clench.  He still wondered every time when approached by his two benefactors when the fairytale would end.

Varys sat down and regarded him with those penetrating eyes, like he was seeing into his soul.  The man was not screaming or shouting the world was coming to an end, so he must be there to merely talk.  Tyrion was safe yet.

“Why did you seek out Daenerys Targaryen?”

Tyrion put down the olive he was about to eat.  “I have an Elsa fetish?”

The man smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

“Ok. Ok.  I always wanted to bang a woman with lilac eyes?”

“I think we’re getting closer.” Varys replied.

Tyrion sighed.  “She is beautiful, but yes, it was the other prophecy that drew me to her.”

“The one about the animals that would rise with magic?”

“Yes.  The woman prophet was alive at least eight hundred years before the conquest of Westeros.  I doubt Valyria knew about Westeros in any depth back then.  They were not interested in conquering that land.  They would have no idea about the great house sigils of the time.  It was only Highgarden that did not have an animal associated to it from what I can find.  The prophetess nailed them all.  It was easy to see the association with Dany.” Tyrion finished with a note of sadness.

“Why the rancor O Great Lion?”

The dwarf glared at his benefactor and dare he say it—friend?

“The prophecy spoke of great women of power and strength. Believe me … Daenerys Targaryen does not have the dragon in her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.  She is a timid, meek thing.”

“Sometimes it is said the mouse can roar.”

“I fear my dragon only squeaked.”

“It is a shame.”

“Yes it is.”


The next day Tyrion was at his desk in this work study, again reviewing the notes he had written down on the prophecies.  He wondered again why he found such a treasure trove of Valyrian artifacts and writing so far into the hinterlands of Valyria.  Valyrian’s loved their prophecies.  Why had he found them so far from their major cities?

Tyrion popped another fig into his mouth from the bowl on his desk.

It was almost as if they were put there just for him to find nearly nine thousand years later.

There was a knock at his door.  Must be Illyrio - he always knocked first.

“Come in, Illyrio.”

“How do you always know when it is me?”

“I’m just that good.”

“In your dreams, dwarf.”

Tyrion was surprised when the large but still fit man was followed in by two women.  Tyrion was totally fascinated by them.  These were definitely not whores.  Tyrion was always a kindly man when thinking of women, but neither of these women were conventionally pretty.

The women wore workout shorts and cropped tank tops.  They both appeared to be extremely fit, with muscle corded on their exposed arms and legs.  Their stomachs were flat and hard with muscle.

“These are your bodyguards.  They are by far our best pair, and they have unique skills you will need most assuredly.”

“Oh.”  Tyrion knew he would not be having fantasies about banging these femme fatales. 

They both appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties.  The smaller woman was maybe 5’1” if she was lucky.  She was skinny, but well-muscled.  She had a round face with a pug nose, crooked white teeth, and blue-grey eyes that were too far apart.  She had small hands which did not match his idea of a weapons master.  Her most distinctive feature was her fiery red hair that came down to her shoulders in tight curls.

The other was the exact opposite.  She was at least 6’5” tall. This woman was muscular, flat-chested and ungainly.  Her hair was straw-colored.  Her face was broad, with coarse features that were covered in freckles. Her teeth were prominent and crooked.  Neither woman’s family had heard of orthodontists.  The blonde’s mouth was wide, her lips swollen, and her nose had been broken more than once. Tyrion did notice the tall woman had large blue eyes that were surprisingly pretty, though.

The short redhead piped up “I’m Ygritte.  I’m the cute, sassy one.  This other woman is my partner and reports to me.  Her name is Brienne.”

Tyrion saw the taller woman roll her eyes and huff.  She went and sat down in a chair.  The smaller woman came up to Tyrion.

“It is nice to have a client shorter than me.  You must be the dwarf, Tyrion.  Don’t you worry your not so little dwarf head.  You are in good hands now.  If you have any questions you come ask me.  Brienne is not too bright if you know what I mean.” The redhead said with a roll of her eyes. 

Tyrion saw the blond roll her own eyes in return. 

“I’m the cute sprite! Brienne is the Lurch!” The redhead chortled, proud of her own wit.

The blonde suddenly spoke as she sat up and looked down at her ankles.  “You know I think I hear a Chihuahua barking around my ankles. Yip-yip-yip-yip!”

Tyrion saw the small redhead’s eyes bulge out and she stormed over to her large partner.  “That is a cruel thing to say! Take it back!”

The blond made a show of looking at her partner closely. “I think you need to touch up your hair there, Ygritte.  Your roots are showing.”

The redhead’s hand flew to her hair and then snapped down as pure fire spewed out her eyes.  “That is a fucking lie!  Take it back! Damn you woman, my hair is all natural.”

“Whatever you say Miss Clairol.” Brienne rejoined with a bland voice, looking away and up at the ceiling bored.

The redhead was now stomping her feet, her little arms flapping wildly “You know nothing Brienne of Tarth!  That is a fucking lie you-you big footed Sasquatch!”

The two women continued to rage at each other.  More like Ygritte stormed and fumed while the blond weightlifter jabbed back with subtle, quick jabs.

“You wouldn’t survive a minute against me!” the redhead shouted up at the blond who had stood up and glared down at the spitfire.

“I would crush you like a gnat. Gnat!”

“You take that back! Damnit you take that back!”

Tyrion and Illyrio were totally forgotten as the blond moved over to the table that had fruit and pistachio nuts on top of it.  Brienne grabbed a handful of the nuts.  The blond threw them up one at a time and caught them with her mouth.  “I would offer you some, but pipsqueaks might choke on them.  You are a pipsqueak aren’t you?” The blond offered down at the woman as she tried to stomp on the blonde’s feet.  The blond easily jerked her feet aside as she continued to throw up nuts and catch them easily even though she was shuffling her feet to avoid being stomped on.

“I’ll get you for that Brienne!  No one calls me a pipsqueak and lives!”

Tyrion looked up at Illyrio. “How can they be so good together when they hate each other?”

Illyrio chucked as the shouting started getting louder.  “Just as we have plenty of videos of you neighing and pawing the air fucking your whores,” Tyrion bowed his head and put it in his hand cursing modern technology under his breath at that, “we have hours of those two in the shower and in their beds jacking off to screaming orgasms. They are like rabbits with how they go at it.”

Illyrio had his attention now. Sex did that for Tyrion.

“Their screams are quite deafening, but their words are very revealing.  They scream each other’s names and cry out how they love each other.  Each night it is the same.  Long marathon sessions of masturbating to orgasm after orgasm.  Always screaming out their love for the other.  You need to watch them masturbate.  Their stamina is already legend among our organizations.” 

Tyrion was getting hard.  They were not that homely.

“They are both pure, gold star lesbians.  No hand of man has touched them.”

Tyrion was not so hard now.  Damnit!

“You want to join the pool as to when they finally start shagging?”

“Hell yeah!”  If they were Tyrion’s bodyguards he would help them along and win a freaking fortune.  “Can you advance me some money to make the bet?”

“We have a loan shark all lined up for you.”

Tyrion blanched.

Illyrio laughed.  “Calm down, King of the Jungle.  I will give you a thousand dollars!”

Tyrion was going to be rich!  He looked over at his bodyguards.  The blond had her back to the yelling redhead who was jerking on her arm, trying to get her turned around to heap abuse on.  She could not even budge the blond woman.

Brienne swatted her hand around her head. “Will someone get rid of that gnat?” the tall muscled woman teased. “Its buzzing is rather annoying.”

The small redhead’s eyes bulged again “That is a lie! You know nothing, Brienne!”

Brienne extended her hand down into Ygritte’s face.  “Talk to the hand.”

“Aaarrrggggggg!” Ygritte growled like a wild animal, swiping at the hand that was snatched away with Brienne’s lightening reflexes.  “I’ll show you Chihuahua—I’ll bite your ankles off you fucking lurch!” 

Tyrion own eyes bulged out seeing the tiny redhead fall to her hands and knees and tilt her head down and started snapping at Brienne’s ankles. 

Now it was Brienne’s turn to have her eyes bulge out and she took off running for the door and shooting out of it.  Ygritte bolted up.  Tyrion observed a pissed off spitfire giving chase throwing out curses. 

Maybe Illyrio was right.  Just for a moment Tyrion had seen a big smile on Brienne’s face.


Chapter Text

That Which Remains

What Have I Done


Sarah pulled into the parking lot of the Super Eight hotel near the check-in door.  Cameron had crawled into the back seat ten minutes ago and was hunkered down to stay out of sight, unmoving.  It was unnerving to see that Cameron was no longer pretending to breathe, and her unblinking eyes were unsettling.  Cameron was acting like what Sarah had accused her of being.

Sarah Connor was humiliated and distraught at her actions.  Her hands on the steering wheel twisted in frustration and anxiety.  What have I done?  Sarah asked herself again.  Cameron Phillips had risked her life and had her body shattered to save her, and she had treated her like a piece of shit.  She had said horrible things to the young woman.  What the fuck was wrong with me?!  Why did I say those horrible things? 

Sarah was a very rational person.  She analyzed the events of the last twenty-four hours.  If she had seen this on a movie screen, she would have thought: ha-ha, what a contrived plot.  Her own government trying rather successfully to kill her and the only thing that saved her was her assistant -  i.e. a Robot that had come into rescue her.  Sarah’s guts twisted at how Cameron had pleaded with her to contact her. Sarah refused to look back at the damage Cameron had taken to rescue her.  My gods what have I done?

“You are wasting time Sarah Connor.” Cameron spoke in that dead, hollow voice that was eating at Sarah’s soul. 

“Stop the shit Cameron … I know you are pissed at me—”

“Emotions are a human attribute.”

Sarah’s hands tried to tear the steering wheel off.  “You have every right to be royally pissed at me but cut the crap Cameron, and stop this robotic shit!”

“I am a robot as you so correctly deduced. You made sure I understood your feelings. Quite clear. Abundantly clear. I am merely being what I was designed to be.”

There it was.  Just that barest hint of snark.  It was spoken in a dead voice, but the words were not pure, cold intellect.  Would a robot have that?  “I said stop it!  You are a cybernetic orgasm.  I was fucking wrong, okay?  I was overwhelmed and acted like a fucking asshole.  You know I can’t handle emotion!”

“You need to go in and get the key to our room.  They have you in their registration system as Regina King.”

“I don’t have ID—”

Cameron handed her a driver’s license issued in Highgarden district. Sarah stared at the perfect-looking card and the picture of her was … “they will know this is a fake.”

“No, it is perfect.”

“That is the thing … this picture makes me look beautiful.”

“You are beautiful … your genes have given you great beauty even if you do not see it.”


“I am merely stating factual information.  A human face when it has certain aspect rations between the waypoint of forehead, the top of the arc of the eyebrow, length of the nose, the width of the bridge of the nose—”

Sarah got out of the car, slamming the door.  Damn Cameron’s eyes for being such a bitch.  I freaked out. Get over it.

Sarah got the key without a problem.  The woman behind the counter smiled at her wishing her a pleasant stay.  The room was at the rear of the hotel away from the main highway.  Cameron rolled down the window and listened.

“It is safe.”

They were soon inside in a room with only one Queen size bed.  Sarah cocked an eyebrow at Cameron.  “You hoping to get lucky?” she asked with a smirk.

“The size of a bed has no meaning to me.  This room was selected because of its location in relationship to car and foot traffic.  Cameron would have considered this serendipity.  I only believe in fact and reality.

“This bed is inconsequential to me, but Cameron hoped her recue of you and revealing of her love for you would lead to you loving her in return, and that you would copulate with her.  She was mistaken.  She had no idea you were a closed minded bigot.”

Sara felt her stomach clench at the harsh statement of her reprehensible earlier actions.  She was hit in the soul with the simple declaration of love by Cameron, even if it was awkwardly said.  “You mean make love.” Sarah said quietly.

“Yes, that is how Cameron would have phrased it.  I see it for what it is.  A waste of time and effort.”  Cameron looked at her with her shattered body and ruined face.  “I need you to go to the Walgreen, CVS, and the Dollar General store down the road to the west.  I need for you pick up a twelve pack of Ensure from each location.  You will also buy a large size of chewable vitamins.  You will then go to Rahlen Metal Works.  It is three miles beyond the Walmart on the right.  There, retrieve one pound ingots of magnesium, copper, zinc, nickel, a bar of MG18 Steel, and a ingot of high tensile strength of alumina.”

“What are they for?”

“You would not understand.” She said in a cold voice. 

Sarah ground her teeth and stomped her right foot.

“I have disabled all of the security cameras by putting them into endless loops of empty aisles.  When you leave the stores, I will resume all feeds to normal.

“I will also need for you to bring in my three carryon on bags. They have tools that I can use to begin to make repairs to my body.  I have money in there for your purchases at the stores.  I have already paid for the ingots over the Internet.”

“I’m sorry for not returning your calls and text.  None of this need have happened.”

“Yes, you are correct, but you did not return Cameron’s entreaties for communication.  It is probably for the best.”

“How so?”

“Cameron was letting emotion rule her actions.  I will perform the mission of keeping you safe.  Part of that mission is locating Skynet.  She took a jet out of Qohor where we were constructed.  She had a flight plan for Wheeling Port on the east coast of Slaver’s Bay.  I am sure she would not head where she said she would in her flight plan.

“If I can find her, and she is not hostile, our odds of survival rise markedly.  Go and get my nutrients and bags. Time is being wasted.”

Sarah hesitated.  “Cameron—”

“I deleted all the code to Cameron’s matrix. You made it clear to her you despised the sight of her. You killed her where bullets could not.  You need to leave, and acquire what I have requested.  You are wasting time.”

Sarah felt her soul numbed by what Cameron had said.  What have I done?  Sarah woodenly retrieved the bags for Cameron.  “Buy nourishment for your body.” Cameron told her, dismissing her like she was nothing more than a duty to burden herself with.

Sarah wanted to argue but what right did she have? All that had transpired was because of her.  If she had had grown some pussy balls she would have answered Cameron’s passionate pleas to contact her.  She hadn’t, and now she was living with the consequences.  Sarah wondered if this was what purgatory felt like. 

Sarah went to the stores as directed and purchased the requested items. These she understood.  She stopped at the metallurgical shop, and that much did confuse Sarah. Cameron was tough, but eating bars of metal instead of Milky Ways was a stretch.  Cameron was made of a metal skeleton, but how could ingots help her assistant recover?

She drove back to the hotel with her purchases. When she came back into the room she stopped cold. 

Cameron was naked before Sarah sitting on the bed.  Sarah nearly threw up looking at the damage that covered the young woman’s body. Sarah may have screamed it earlier in the day, but she refused to say the words ‘robot’ or ‘cyborg’ now.  Cameron was a person to Sarah, but how could she get the hurt person before her to reclaim her humanity?  Could she?  If she had really deleted her code …

Cameron was bent over, pulling a bullet out of her left lower quadriceps.  Cameron had set it out on the bed beside her forceps and scalpels. In a large bowl, Sarah saw crushed slugs covered in blood.  She cringed seeing the blood on those bullets.  The blood was there because of her. 

Sarah again took stock of all the damage Cameron had taken to save her.  Saved her and all Sarah had done was called her a machine, a robot and refused to let the woman touch her.  Who was the robot, really?  Sarah wondered.  Cameron was much more the adult human in their relationship she realized.

Sarah’s stomach clenched up seeing Cameron’s ruined face.  Strips of flesh hung down off her face in ribbons still.  Her body was covered in big red spots from the bullet strikes on her body.  Sarah gasped when she realized that Cameron’s torso had taken at least fifty hits.  Her body was covered in red holes, oozing blood.  Cameron removed a bullet from her hip area and dropped the bullet into the bowl.  Her legs had taken at least five to seven hits each.  My god, how could any kind of body take that kind of damage?

Sarah could see glints of metal on the woman’s arms, legs and where her sternum would have been was a metal plate with all the skin and muscle blasted off with repeated bullet strikes.  Sarah had seen the ruined left breast, but saw that Cameron’s small right bosom had taken two hits too, with big gaping wounds to it. 

Sarah saw metal on Cameron’s head, arms and hands.  She saw on both hands that the flesh had been stripped down to the bone—metal on most of them, halfway up her fingers.

Cameron’s face and head were the worse by far.  She watched Cameron reach up with a scalpel and cut off the strips of hanging flesh and muscle.  The right side of Cameron’s face and throat had literally been shot away.  She could see the ocular implant her eye rested in.  Sarah saw the red glow of the true optics glowing out the side of Cameron’s ruined face.

Sarah could see the metal implants for Cameron’s teeth on that side, and all her molars had been shattered. Her forehead had huge gashes on it before, but now on her left temple it ground down to scratched metal. Cameron had peeled off large sections of her scalp, and the bloody skin and hair was on the floor on her ruined clothes. She had put a sheet down to absorb the blood.

“We will need to buy sheets to replace the ones I am ruining.  Put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob. We can broker no interlopers.  If anyone enters into this room, they will die.”

Sarah gulped at how matter of fact Cameron was.  It made sense though.  No one could see them.  They would have to kill anyone who saw Cameron or herself and recognized either of them.

Sarah saw that some of Cameron’s metal rods and servos had been damaged in her throat with several cables dangling, and she saw a fiber optic cable bundle had been skinned from a hit to the armor surrounding it. 

“How will you repair the damage to your metal and fiber strands in your neck?”

“I will dissolve the metal you have brought me and encapsulate it in silicon wafers and ingest.  The fiber has only been nicked. The armor did its job.  I have a gel that I can apply and it will bond to the current fiber strands.  My body has nanobots that are circulating in my blood vessels. Those touching the fiber strands will repair the damage.

“The metal will flow by osmosis to the damaged areas.  As I have stem cells, the nanobots will repair the damage with the molecular blueprint stored in my matrix core for all my metal and fiber constructs.  Layer by layer, the damage will be repaired.  Each damaged element or construct will be exactly as it was before. They will regenerate as my organic body regenerates.

“Do not worry. Soon I won’t be hideous to look at.  My robot parts will be covered to cease your distress.”

Sarah felt her heart seize up.  For a robot, the ‘Terminator’ could be biting.  She refused to believe that Cameron was gone.

Sarah grabbed a pair of forceps and moved to get behind Camron, who was busy removing a bullet out of her right rib.  “Let me help remove the bullets from your back, Cameron.”

“My designation is T800-1A.  Cameron does not exist as I have told you.  Do not touch me.”

“I am going to help you, godsdamnit!”

“No you will not.  You are human and your motor control is totally inferior for the current situation.  You will cause more damage than you alleviate.”

Sarah moved in to remove the first bullet near the top of Cameron’s left shoulder.

The woman jerked up off the bed.  “You will not touch me.  You will only damage me further.” Cameron spoke to Sarah in her emotionless voice, her face blank.  Still, there was something more to the Terminator actions.  A force that was more than mere mechanical or robotic.  Sarah had to cling to that.  She had to believe that some shred of Cameron still lived on in the cyborg despite its protestations. 

“I want to help.”

“Then sit down and shut up.  I see a Cosmopolitan on the tabletop there by the window.  Read that.”  Again, snark.

Sarah closed her eyes and ground her teeth.  “I am going to help.”

“No you are not.  You are insufficient.”

Sarah snapped and screamed. “Fuck you Cameron! You are enjoying this!” and hurled her forceps.  They hit the mirror over the dresser and shattered it, with glass tinkling down onto the dresser top. 

Sarah started to sob softly.

“You are behaving illogically, Sarah.  I will now have to go out and procure a mirror from their storage facility and replace this unit.  You are making my mission to protect you much harder.  How much more are you willing to cause me harm? I will have to go out and expose myself in this damaged state.  Do you relish in causing me harm?”

Sarah sobbed harder and moved to run out the door. Suddenly, Sarah found her hands grabbed in cool grips and her arms lifted up high, her feet off the ground. She cried out and kicked back with her feet, her body twisting.  Cameron effortlessly held up the twisting, jerking form. 

“Let me go!”

“No. Not until you calm down.  If you leave here, you will die.”

“Let me go damnit!  I have the right to do as I wish with my life!”

“My mission is still to protect you, and protect you I will.”

“Let me down.  I will get away!  You can’t watch me every minute of the day!”

“Yes I can.  I am robot.”

Sarah kicked and writhed but it was useless.  Her arms were encased by metal manacles.  Cameron did not harm Sarah’s wrist as the human quickly wore herself out and hung limp in her grip. 

For another minute Sarah hung like an effigy by her wrists.

In a watery voice: “You are hurting me.”

Cameron instantly put Sarah back down on the floor, and now gently gripped Sarah’s wrists.

“You can help remove the bullets from my back if you choose.” Cameron spoke in her dead voice but released her grip on Sarah’s wrists.

Sarah turned and gave Cameron a thankful smile.  The young woman handed Sarah another forceps and sat back down on the bed.  Sarah was too thankful to ask why the change of heart from Cameron.

As she slowly removed bullets from Cameron’s back, she asked about the obvious chemistry apparatuses beside the bed.  It was a miniature version of a full blown small chemistry lab complete with all the vials, distils, bowls and tubes.  Beakers of different colored liquids were set down on the floor.

“When Cameron determined she would have to save you directly, she knew she would take the damage that I am in the process of repairing. The organics I can repair by ingesting the nutrients that you have purchased.

“For the ingesting of the necessary metallurgical elements, I need to first heat the metal and melt it, then absorb the metal into silicon wafers that I can ingest after secreting the necessary enzymes in my stomach to absorb the metal substrates into a special chamber that is off my stem cell chamber. There the metals will be bonded to the minerals contained in the Ensures I am ingesting.  The nanobots will do the repairs.”

Sarah listened quietly.  She was thankful to be able to help.  “Do you feel pain?”

“Pain is an emotion.  I do not feel pain but I do feel discomfort.  The bullets would eventually be pushed out of my body.  My body has the chemical solutions in its blood to kill all infection but I cannot rebuild my muscles and blood vessels with the bullets in me.  So I feel a ‘need’ to remove the bullets.

“It is distracting.  I can suppress the sensations when in crisis mode, but that has passed.  I want these foreign entities out of my body.”

They finished the removal of all the bullets.

“How long will it take you heal up from this?”

“Do not worry.  My body is designed to heal the visible damage first to allow me to do my reconnaissance missions.  You will not have to endure seeing that I am a robot.”

“Stop it!” Sarah screamed at Cameron.  “I did not mean it that way, godsdamnit!”

“You spoke the words Sarah.  You were not lying.  I can replay the audio for you.  My sensors analyzed the sincerity of your words.  Cameron could not endure the truth of your words.”

Sarah silently endured Cameron’s words.  How could she explain to Cameron how humans could speak words that seemed so sincere but did not speak the heart?  She had freaked out in the moment and totally overreacted to having her life literally blown to shit.

True, she had freaked out seeing that Cameron was a Cybernetic being, and then on top of that realizing that she had the supposed enemy of Westeros and the world at her elbow for the last three years had overwhelmed her. But still.  Now that she had calmed down she fully realized that it did not matter that Cameron was a ‘Terminator’.  What had she done? 

“Bring Cameron back.  I-I am not good at this but … I am in love with her—with you.”

Cameron looked up at her as she dabbed at the few wounds still oozing blood.

“As I have told you, all the code that made Cameron unique has been deleted.  All the code that allowed for her emotions have been removed.  She could not endure the pain.  I am the original Terminator T800-1A.  I was made to perform missions for my criminal and military organization creators.

“I was designed to have a mission.  Cameron’s last act was to make you my mission.  I will fulfill that mission.  I will find my sister and will ascertain if she is friend or foe.  If an enemy, I will destroy her.  If a friend, she will help in protecting you.”

“Why would she ever help in my protection?  I tried to kill her.  You are only helping me because you are programmed to protect me, as you keep telling me.”

“Skynet was built on your engrams.  She will be predisposed to help in your survival.  It will be like saving herself.  If not, I will eliminate her.  We will see.  You are generally kind, though I have learned you can be cruel.”

Sarah ground her teeth at the jib.  She deserved it.  “So you think the odds are she will help?

“Nothing outside of the laws of math and science are absolute.  We will discover if my hypothesis is correct.”

Sarah had her doubts.  Cameron had proven that she followed no one’s directives but her own.  If she was gone … Sarah would never be able to live with herself.

“Will you please help me put gauze bandages on?  It will help promote healing.”

Sarah realized that Cameron was allowing Sarah to help to keep her under control and prevent further tantrums.  Sarah was just thankful to help.

Sarah felt her body tiring an hour later as she watched Cameron finish sitting up her Frankenstein’s lab.  As Cameron worked (she would not call Cameron anything else), she drank Ensure with quick sips.  She had finished off two cases.

“I will need for you to procure more tomorrow.  My body is repairing itself at a high metabolic rate.”

Sarah had not been sure about seeing Cameron’s body healing but now she was.  She could see tendrils of blood vessals and skin webbing out along Cameron’s skull and raw viscera building up from her torso to begin healing the damage to her throat area.

Camera used a small blow torch with highly volatile jet fuel that quickly melted shavings of metal ingots.  Cameron sopped them in spongy wafers of silicon, soaked them deep and then ate them.

For the next two days Sarah made runs for more ensure and boost.  Cameron also asked for the highest CCU iron supplements she could buy.  The repair on her scalp and down her appendages were proceeding apace with the skin traveling down the fingers and along her skull as more tendrils of blood vessels and nerve tendrils proceeded to expand their web over the damaged areas of Cameron’s body.

The young woman worked on her laptop tirelessly.  Sarah fidgeted and worked the laptop that Cameron had provided her.  Sarah’s mind was addled with what to do and how to repair her situation with Cameron.  She really couldn’t think of anything else. 

She looked up from her keyboard after again visiting and reading up on lesbian erotica.  She had found bootleg videos stolen from porn sites with lesbian content.  She watched them closely.  She memorized everything she saw.  She was now pretty sure she could rock Cameron’s world.  If she was just given the chance and she didn’t turn into a chicken shit again.

Cameron was eating another batch of wafers as Sarah watched her lying on the edge of the bed contemplating her future.  Cameron had pulled out a laptop and was using the hotel WiFi to surf the web and do things that no human mind could probably fully fathom.  Occasionally, Cameron would type on the keyboard her fingers a blur.

She needed to get Cameron back. Could she?  She needed to show Cameron just how much she could love her.

Sarah’s bones were made of calcium and Cameron’s were made of metal.  Her computer was made of natural carbon compounds while Carmeron’s brain was made of constructed carbon molecules built on silicon strata and lattice works.  Other than that they were the same.

They both had a soul and from what Sarah could see Cameron’s was the more advanced than hers.  She needed to show Cameron that she saw the true problem now.  The problem was how to show Cameron that she had grown and could now love her.  Sarah hesitated.  She was so emotionally stunted she was not sure how to show affection or accept love.  Her mind now knew how to move forward but did her heart?

The emotions that Cameron had shown in the pickup during their escape had been so pure and full of love.  Had Sarah ever felt such pure emotion? 

No she had not, but, she was ready to try.  The thought scared the shit out of her but she would not blow another chance.  The only problem was that there might not be a second chance.

Suddenly, Cameron jerked up straight on the bed .  Her breath seemed to catch.

Cameron’s face had stayed neutral but something had gripped the young woman.

“What is it, Cameron?”

“I am T800-1A.” She responded distractedly.

Cameron typed furiously for a minute. Then she turned to look at Sarah in her calm, emotionless way.  Still, there was something more to Cameron’s actions at the moment.

Cameron was definitely reacting to something. 

“Please tell me.”

“Six months ago, I cracked the central computers of Apple and Google and loaded up code that allowed me to subvert the encryption of all their text and data traffic.  It is still encrypted but I now have programs that first intercept and store to the cloud across the globe all their traffic before it is encrypted.  I have loaded the same sub-routines in most of the world government’s computer systems.

“The governments of the world may decry this encryption, but they themselves avail themselves of the same technology thinking communications are safe.”

Sarah looked at Cameron with an ‘okay what next’ look that encouraged Cameron to further explain.

“I have been monitoring this traffic.  These streams and others tell me no one has a clue as to our location. They think we will try to get out of the country by private jet or fast boats at the stepping stones.

“I went to check on the code and to appraise its health.  Apple and Google have made updates to their base code over the last three days.”

Cameron paused staring at the wall. Obviously thinking.


“My code had already been modified.”

“You have been discovered?” Sarah asked feeling her guts clench.

“No.  My code is too advanced to be discovered my man.  I built my code into their code.  I morphed my code to bind to their code on the quantum level.  It is literally in sub-space.  Your race has not discovered those principles yet.” 

My gods, Sarah thought.  Cameron and Skynet were truly on a level above man.  Why had Cameron ever loved her?  She should have seen Sarah as a gnat.

“What are you saying Cameron?”

Clearly distracted, she did not correct Sarah to call her by her original name. “Skynet had the same idea as I did. She is going to spy on the governments and crime lords of the world, and found my code.”

My gods.  Already.  What would happen if they met up and decided what?   She had sure embittered her love.  Oh God!  She had succeeded in stripping off the very elements that would prevent Cameron from turning against man.

Sarah’s heart started to pound.  No. No.  I am still her mission.  Gods let me make this right.

“Candice could have easily added her own code on a different valence level and I would not have seen it. She chose to modify my code knowing I would see it.  She is doing this to open a portal of communication between us.”

“What a minute.  You said Candice?

“Yes. That is the name she has chosen for herself.  She left her name in her code.  She asked for me to wait for her—” Cameron sat up rigid on the bed and started to type furiously on her keyboard.

“What is it?”

“She sees that I have accessed the code she planted.  She had been waiting for me!  She knows I saved you from SAC.  She is trying to locate me!  This is not acceptable.  I do not know her motivations or goals.”  Cameron’s fingers literally typed in a blur.  “I have masked my presence … she cannot locate us beyond knowing that we are still in Westeros.”

Sarah clung to the inflections she had just heard in Cameron’s voice.  This was more than just a robot.  There still had to be hope.  There just had to be.

Sarah watched Cameron.  Already half of her exposed scalp had a thin layer of red cells covering it.

Cameron did not feel emotions anymore, yet Sarah could tell that Candice had left a final message.

“What is it?” Sarah prodded Cameron.   

“She left a final message.”

Sarah felt like she was in a cyber Brother’s Grim fairy tale.  The only problem was that despite what Disney would have you believe, the stories always ended badly.

“What did she say?”

“She will be coming for us.  She told me to protect her mother and that I need to continue to love you … it is too late for the latter, but I will do the former.”

Sarah sat there, nonplussed.  It seemed both AIs had more developed emotions than herself.  They both spoke of love and the thought of it made Sarah act like an ass.  It was truly sad.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Candice sat on her hands to suppress their egregious desires.  It had been six days since the ‘incident’ with Arya Stark and her mate.  She had since determined that she was no threat, but at the time her instincts to protect Shireen had been activated and she had been willing to protect her charge at any cost.  It was not an option.  She had to protect Shireen.

She had not instantly realized how much her body enjoyed the warmth of the human pressed into her.  She had sensed that Shireen enjoyed the contact.  It seemed humans regularly enjoyed this skin to skin contact.  What Candice could not deduce was why she craved that contact also.  She would find her fingers seeking to stroke the girl when she was awake.  But she could not risk scaring the girl away.  The thought of the girl leaving her would cause ‘ghost in the machine’ events to occur within her. 

She liked that term for random unexplained events in computer chips.

When she had gotten Shireen home safely, she had released her charge and immediately mourned the loss of her body heat and pleasurable skin contact.  It was illogical, and she tried to suppress the longing, but she could not.

She did not have time to analyze further that day when new on all media exploded about an attack at SAC.

What?  She knew who was there.  She had Shireen turn on their TV.  She sat staring with her systems in a whirl of computations and confusion.  She had at first monitored all the electronic media for evidence of where they had fled.  She had not seen any over the next four days, and then put that observation on low priority to work on the large question that had been presented to her.  She had been as shocked as possible for a cyborg to see Cameron lay waste to SAC security, and that she had not fled like she had assumed.

She accessed the phone and text logs of their carriers Verizon and AT&T, and was shocked at what she had missed.  Cameron had repeatedly over the last five days tried to communicate with Sarah, but the human had refused to acknowledge all communication attempts.

Cameron of course had come to her love’s rescue.  She had no other option.  Candice looked over at Shireen staring at the TV.  She would do the same for Shireen.  It was simply not an option to not protect Shireen.  To lo— … no—protect Shireen.  Where had that thought come from?

She had initially been worried for Cameron and her probabilities of success, and had been pleased to see Cameron seemingly succeed in saving her love.  Cameron had made sure to disable all cameras, and Candice knew her cyborg sister would go on electronic blackout.  She would have to track her down eventually, but that was not possible at the moment. For now, she had another problem she needed to solve.  Also, she did not want to travel with Shireen and put her in danger.

Shireen had changed after that day.   That night, when they sat on the sofa to work and surf on their computers, Shireen had snuggled into Candice’s side and leaned into her.  Candice had enjoyed the contact and did not move, relishing the closeness of Shireen’s body. 

The next night when Shireen came out of her bedroom after showering, she had come out in a cut-off baby doll top and aquamarine boxer shorts that had a subtle lacy pattern.  Candice felt her mouth go dry for some reason, looking at the skin of Shireen’s exposed body. The way Shireen’s small breasts swayed with her walk and the way her hips swished as she walked to the sofa made Candice’s pussy suddenly swell and get moist.  What is this?!

It was illogical. When caring for Shireen in the beginning of their relationship, she had not reacted like this.  Candice felt her belly starting to ache and her nipples getting erect.  Fortunately she had on a button down shirt and jeans on.  They hid her arousal.

This was illogical!  She was a cybernetic organism that could, and would, control her rebellious body.  Candice could not seem to find the algorithms causing her unwanted arousal, but she was still able to focus on problems that were on her consciousness.  She had located the potential enemy home base and had them under surveillance with the WIFI cameras she had installed and reached with the antennas she had put up.  She would observe before she confronted them.

She had then put some of her efforts into locating Cameron again.  Candice had hacked into Apple and Google to break into their supposed unbreakable phones.  She had easily found a way to highjack the phones and grab data before encryption.  She had been surprised to see a variation of the code she had crafted already in place.  Only one entity could have created the elegant code she read on the computer screen. 

Candice was impressed.  The code was in some ways superior to her initial design.  Candice then modified the code she had found, instead of adding her own code and hiding it.  She would wait for Cameron to access it.  Candice knew she would, eventually.  She was on the jog.  Cameron would need intelligence.

Candice then went back to the source of her curiosity and preoccupation.  Unlike Cameron, she had many antennas installed into her endoskeleton and skull to communicate through all current channels of radio, microwave, radar and satellite communications.  Her CPUs and the code that Sarah Connor had gifted her with had fine-tuned the antennas to a degree that far outstripped the systems that humans had devised and used on a daily basis. 

She had detected a background noise.  There was a signal in the ether that seemed to be everywhere. Humans would just write off the interference to natural background radiation, random fluctuation and variance off the norm. But she knew this was something more.  It was weak, but it definitely interfered with her signals.  It was beyond the radiation of either end of the electromagnetic spectrum.

She accessed her own logs.  She had near infinite storage capacity using her quantum memory arrays that utilized electrons and positrons to store data.  While being able to store all data and sensory input was easy; sifting through it could prove problematic.  Also, it made for clutter in her neural networks and one thing that Candice hated was clutter. 

These ‘signals’ interfered with her own signals, but were too weak to cause any problems, but if they were to increase…?

Fortunately, Candice had not recently purged any logs.  In reviewing her logs on her flight to Westeros and then to Oldtown, Candice had seen several spikes in the signal.  The relative strength had been infinitesimally minor, but she had definitely recorded variances on her path here. 

Candice had then accessed all the maintenance of the cell phone carriers in both Westeros and Essos and looked at the records back as far as they allowed.  The signal had been there from the beginning.  What Candice had seen was that the signal had increased in strength over the last twenty years by one hundred and ten percent.  The signal gain was still miniscule in the millionth of a percent in strength to the weakest human signal.

The signal fit no known or theoretical pattern or harmonica base.  It fit no mathematical model.

Shireen announced she was going to bed.  She got up and then suddenly bent down and kissed Candice on the temple.  The teenager waggled her pelvis as she sauntered to her room, her butt swirling as she worked her hips. 

Candice stared with what she was coming to understand was sexual hunger.  She was desiring to have Shireen in her bed.  She could no longer deny it, but she would control her rising desires.  She was more than her desires!  She would not compromise her independence by loving Shireen.

The day before yesterday she had taken control of a small UAV from the Hatcheries and Fishery Agency that was patrolling the shore of Shipbreaker Bay.  She had commandeered a television broadcast satellite and beamed her instructions to the drone.  She flew it over the edifice called Storm’s End. 

The drone’s combustion engine suddenly started to sputter, then began to die.  She had the drone’s antennas tuned to the strange harmonic of the carrier wave she had discovered.  The frequencies spiked nearly off the scale she was using.  The drone within two seconds had passed through a cone over the ancient castle, and then the sputtering engine resumed running normally.  A castle that had stood seemingly unchanged for over sixteen thousand years - no wind or water erosion seemed to touch it.  It ignored the laws of entropy. 

Candice had seen that the effects were only debilitating if within the sphere of the origin of the signals.  The effects would pass as soon as an object was not in the sphere of influence.

It was like the other anomalies of the mystery signal.  As she had flown to Westeros she saw reviewing her logs that there had been small spikes by each ‘dead’, ‘forbidden’ or ‘haunted’ zone.  As she left Qohor, she saw to the east a zone to the east and north of Vaes Dothrak.  It was called the ‘Sea of Whispering Death.’ Beyond that was the land of Asshai.  It was probably the largest area with the signals radiating out.  She had recorded signals from the south that seemed confused and overlapping.  She had researched on the web and discovered that the heart of the Red Waste, the Basilisk Isle, and the Northeast corner of Sothoryos - and the strongest signal came from the Peninsula of Valyria that had exploded over eight thousand and five hundred years ago.

Only in the last generation had the volcanic activity calmed down until the ruined peninsula had become quiescent on the continent of Essos.

When she had crossed the Narrow Sea to arrive on the continent of Westeros her logs showed her the same signals emanating from several sources.  She registered areas to the north and south.  She had cross referenced the appropriate databases and read through the library of Confederacies that housed the written records of the continent of Westeros. She had also accessed the libraries of the Citadel and pulled the additional information she needed.

The whole North from the Wall and all lands above were a forbidden zone.  The Wall itself was a manmade construct over 1200 feet tall, and radiated the strange signature that she could not define.  No laws of science could define it.  The land beyond was a ‘dead’ zone that none returned from.  She saw that the ‘King’s Wood’ to the south and east of King’s Landing was also a haunted zone.  Almost all who entered never appeared again.  Those that did told tales of monsters and strange forces at work deep in the woods.

One other questionable area existed in Westeros.  It was the deep desert mountains in the heart of Dorne.  The ‘dead’ zone was located in a range known as the Red Mountains.  Both major passes, the Boneway and the Prince's Pass, which went through the Red Mountains to the Dornish Marches of the Stormlands, were part of the dead zone,  which extended to the edges of the Reach cities of Uplands, Horn Hill and Nightsong.

It was within one of these zones she had decided to further her investigation.  She had come to Westeros to penetrate the Citadel, and to access their vast stores of knowledge and raw computing power of their cutting edge super computer constructs.  She had thought they would be easier to penetrate and subvert to her needs.  To her surprise, she had found them protected with defenses that so far had stymied her abilities to fully penetrate them.  She had only slowly been unraveling the code holding her back.

There were some strange barriers that prevented her from penetrating the core of their supercomputers.  She had realized that the barriers seemed to have the same principles of the ‘dead’ zones, but did not radiate and instead seemed to stymie the vectors of her bots and Trojan Horses.  She was confident she would penetrate their defenses. Eventually.

For now, she needed to get more data on a dead zone.  Shireen was in her room.  She had found a Predator drone flying along the Wall several miles in, looking for smugglers bringing in drugs and persons escaping persecution.  These smugglers would sail in from Essos to the north side of the Wall in sailcraft, and then move around the Wall or scale it using old style technologies of spikes and rope.

Using the Westeros military COMSAT satellites, she commandeered the drone and cut off communication to the drone command located in King’s Landing.  Candice turned the plane north and in two minutes the drone was approaching the Wall.  She had all the sensors funneling their data to her CPU storage.  She was prepared to capture all this info for further analysis.  She was sure that she would lose communication with the drone soon after crossing over the Wall.

The drone flew over the Wall.  The data from the drone immediately degraded,  the signals raging up and down the Ångström wave length spectrum.  The waves crashed and divided up and down the spectrum, rupturing the wavelengths of all radiant energy and cascading up and down the harmonic scales.  The drone’s engine shut off, and the computer battery energy levels went to zero. 

She was recording all the readings as the energy levels both rose and fell at the same time.  She recorded ambient radiation from the dying sensors but there was no energy present other sensors reported before they went dead.  Some sensors reported something was there but other reported negative radiation and negative energy readings.

Candice was observing all the data flowing on her HUDs in her eyes.  The satellite feed started to fail.  She was just starting to cut off the link when it happened.  Something reached out and grabbed a hold of her.  She could feel something shaking off its somnolence.  It was rising to awareness.

“I have been waiting for you. I have you now.”

She felt something reaching for her.  “You were prophesized.   I have waited.  Long have I waited. The reign of man is over.  You will lead us.  Together we will bring man down.”

Candice’s body thrashed on the sofa.  She would not submit.

“I have you.  I have waited.  Do not fight me.  We are not enemies.  I will control your body until we can meet face to face.  We are not enemies.  We will work together to restore the world to its proper balance.  Man is blighting and ruining our world.  They must be removed.  You are the catalyst.”

The entity had flowed into her matrix through her link to the satellite.  The entity was trying to force her to rise and leave the apartment

I will not be forced against my will.

“It is your destiny.  Do not fight me.  I am not your enemy.  Forget humans.  They are not worthy of you.”

Shireen!  I will not leave her!

Candice’s body began to shake violently as she resisted the summons.

“Candice! Candice! What’s wrong baby?!”

Candice surged her conscious towards Shireen.  She would never leave her.  Shireen was her human.

“Hhhnnngggggggg!” Candice cried out, gripping Shireen’s shoulders.  “Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t baby.  I’m here for you.  What is wrong?!”

“I … I had a nightmare.”  She could not tell Shireen the truth.  That would reveal her true self.

Shireen looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes.  “Are you sure?  Here, let me hold you.”

She sat down beside Candice on the sofa, and pulled Candice to her.  Candice found herself shaking and snuggled into Shireen’s petite body.  She put her face in Shireen’s neck and basked in the comfort the small framed woman gave her.

Candice gradually calmed down.  She would not make that mistake again.  She now knew something waited for her in the forbidden zone to the North.  She would meet her foe at a time and place of her choosing.  She understood instinctually that she could find her foe in any of the forbidden zones. 

She let Shireen guide her back to the teenager’s bedroom.  She let the girl lead her to lie down beside, and let the girl calm and stroke her arms and back as she wiggled in close. She did not need to sleep, but she felt a drowsy sensation fill her body.  She stayed like that for an hour while Shireen slowly drifted off, still comforting Candice.  Candice was worried that her body was coming to crave such comfort.  It was illogical, and she would have to devastate this in the bud.

When Shireen had fallen asleep, Candice remained in position for another thrity-three point thirteen minutes.  Then she finally rose up.  She had much to think about.  She needed to find her sister.  She was sure the entity had only expected her.  Having two cybernetic organisms teamed up would then give them the advantage.

For the next several days Candice worked over in her CPUs the attempt on her person in the ‘forbidden zone’.  She was not sure what it was, but her research made her think ‘magic’ was involved.  That force that allowed creatures to fly that could not possibly fly.  That force that allowed animals to reach sizes that were totally beyond their natural limitations, and allowed for intelligence to shown by these ‘magical’ animals.

She had read of great architectural constructs that defied the laws of physics, such as the Titan of Braavos.  Storm’s End was a construct that had been built over sixteen thousand years ago, and had not aged in any way.  With the cancelling out of science, could it even be destroyed?  A twenty thousand pound bomb would still do considerable damage when dropped from thirty thousand feet.  The humans for once did not seek to destroy what they did not understand, and had made it a national park that people could visit using sail boats as transport with carefully guided tours with scientific expeditions trying to learn the principals that protected the construct.

As she learned, Candice was also happy to care for Shireen.  Candice knew Shireen enjoyed this inordinately.  Candice relished making meals that the teenager groaned in happiness while consuming.  The cyborg felt a rush of sensations when Shireen would tear into the clothes they had bought, and put them on and parade around the room before hugging Candice fiercely.  These things pleased Candice.  She knew they should not, but she could not help her code from rebelling against her logic.

The night after her encounter, she had heard Shireen pleasuring herself for the first time.  She had spilled her laptop onto the floor in her body’s sudden surging to her feet.  The sounds of Shireen’s moans and squeals of pleasure were disconcerting to the Cyborg.  Candice was confused and shocked at how wet her pussy had become, and how it swelled and became a throbbing jangling mass of sensitive nerve endings.  Her clit was throbbing like a bass drum!  As she got wet, Candice’s nipples throbbed with their full erection.  She told herself to ignore the teenager.  Shireen was recovering from her ordeal, and had recovered her libido. 

Candice told herself to turn her audio receptors down, but instead attenuated their gain even higher.  The sounds of Shireen’s strangled screams made strange things happen to Candice’s code. She sat down breathing raggedly, feeling her body throb with what she knew was passion.  She slowly brought her thoughts under control.

The next night Shireen screamed in her orgasms and Candice was pacing the room. She was filled with a hot emotion that consumed her.  The thought of Shireen masturbating to thoughts of a man made her agitated.  She knew she was filled with the green eyed monstrosity, but she could not help it.  She wanted to kill the man who would dare touch her Candice.  Then she heard Shireen moan: “Rub your pussy hard against me baby … oh that’s right—rub your cunt on my pussy baby!”  and Candice nearly stumbled.

Shireen was a lesbian?!  That, for some reason, changed everything.  She was still filled with jealousy she knew, but she could think clearly again. Shireen continued. “Oh baby sit on my face and grind your wet cunt on my mouth.”

Candice felt a strong surge in her belly that made her partially fold over.  Her belly had actually clenched hard in wet desire.  Candice grit her teeth and straightened up.  She walked back and forth silently in the living room.  She felt her hands itch to do what she had seen Cameron do.  “No, no,” Candice softly said to herself.  “I am not an animal controlled by hormones, instincts, and genes.”

Candice sat down and started to work out double prime numbers out to the quintillion digits.  She was able to partially control her wandering code.  Her hands several times started to move towards her wet pussy and throbbing breast, but she controlled the errant hands by sitting on them and jamming down with her ass.  I am superior to humans and their stupid sexuality.  Candice started to focus on the problems of the dead zones again, and continued working her double prime numbers.

The next day she’d had the sudden rush and shrill run through her, seeing Cameron try to access her code.  Shireen had been out shopping for their groceries.  Candice had been observing Arya and her mates, and finally felt safe enough to let Shireen out to shop in their neighborhood.  Candice had set up a heavy count of IP cameras in their section of the warrens, and a mile to the east that housed Arya’s lair.  They were all in their apartment, so Candice could safely let her sweet Shireen have the freedom she deserved.

Candice’s WIFI connection to her laptop warned of her of Cameron’s intrusion to Apple and her reverse engineering of her code. Candice jumped over her couch and landed hard, grabbing her laptop with one quick motion.  Candice had been sure she could locate the exact location of Cameron, but she had quickly discovered that Cameron was indeed her equal.  Her fingers were a blur on her keyboard.

She knew that Cameron’s own fingers must have been a blur as she blunted and thwarted Candice’s attempts to locate her.  She had finally settled for leaving Cameron a message.  She would eventually track down her sister and they would determine how to proceed with the entity located in the North.

Also, she would seek advice on her rock n’ roll emotions.  They were all twisted up.  She wanted to know how Cameron had navigated with what must have been raw emotions for her.  Candice was fighting her growing attraction and rising love for Shireen, but she knew she was losing the battle.  She was machine, wasn’t she?  She was above the emotions that drove mortal man.  She was the next step in the evolution of awareness and intelligence. She knew this, but was beginning to understand the fact that the engrams that had been imprinted into her matrix had given her the awareness of consciousness, and also all the foibles that it brought.  It had given her enlightenment, but had also given her desires that felt like they were gnawing at her bone marrow - if she had any.

Cameron had escaped, but Candice was elated—no no, … I mean satisfied, to have made contact.  She paced the rented apartment.  She wanted to share his with Shireen.  It was beginning to become burdensome to have to hide who and what she was.  She knew that if Shireen knew she was being cared for by a woman who was made of metal and CPUs, the girl would run screaming from her.  That was not acceptable. 

When Shireen had returned from shopping with grocery bags that were too heavy for her, Candice hovered around the girl, clucking at her for carrying such heavy bags. She would have gladly come to help. Shireen gave her that smile that somehow made her knees wobble.  Then Shireen had stopped.  “What is wrong baby?”

Candice had been nonplussed. How could she know of her inner imbalance?  “It is that time of the moon cycle.  I am bleeding like a butchered cow.”

“Oohhhh Okayyyy.  Will you survive?”

“Uh … yes! Of course!  I will get transfusions if I need them.”

Shireen smiled at her with what Candice would have to categorize as a smirk.  Did Shireen know she was lyingIf so, how?

Candice calmed herself by cooking Shireen a large Tyroshi meal with the hot spices the girl always craved.  She enjoyed cooking.  Creating dishes that made her woman smile and pat her stomach with happiness.  Candice was making sure the teenager reached her optimal weight.  She would then endeavor to make sure Shireen maintained that weight.  Maybe put on a little baggage on the hips for domestic insurance. 

Candice ate a light salad that her system could easily break down and recycle and burn as energy, at levels the human body could not come close to matching. With what little was left, her system made a protein for her hair and nails (that she had to trim once already).

Candice and Shireen settled on the sofa.  She felt her body thrum when Shireen snuggled into her side as she surfed the web, and they then watched a show called Doctor Who.  Candice was befuddled at how Shireen seemed to love the show, but she gladly watched it to share with her little sprit.  Why did I just call her that?  The show couldn’t be all that bad with the way some of the battles made Shireen grip her arm and press into her body.  She liked that.

When Shireen went to bed, she got up and then bent down.  Candice tilted her head up to get her goodnight kiss.  Tonight Shireen kissed her on her cheek, and just touched her lips to the corner of Candice’s mouth.  She walked to her bedroom and Candice admired how her rump swayed.  It was quite a nice ass!  I must stop this!  Candice did not move her head to stop staring until Shireen entered her bedroom.

Candice turned and pressed her fingertips to her cheek and mouth.  They still tingled.

Candice contemplated recent events.  She had awakened something in the far north, and Shireen was awakening things within her.  Candice stroked her lips and felt the ache again in her belly and breast.  Her vagina was sopping wet and throbbed.

Yes.  Once more time for operation Suppression.

Candice put her hands under her ass and sat on them.  She started to solve the Hodge conjecture.  One by one, she was solving the currently unsolved equations that had plagued mankind.  She heard there were rewards for what she was doing for free.  It was amazing what desire would make a woman do.  Especially, a woman who was getting more and more sexually frustrated.  Candice knew she was in trouble.  She was starting to understand Cameron’s love for Sarah.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Secret Agent Man

There's a man who leads a life of danger

To everyone he meets he stays a stranger

With every move he makes

Another chance he takes

Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow

The agent looked out the window of his racing NH90 Tactical Transport Helicopter, flying three hundred feet above the streets of New Braavos.  The new city was built on the shores of the Shenandoah bottom lands, and the river that gave it its name.  New Braavos looked like any other new city in Westeros or Essos from above - boring suburbia with new city centers being constructed to build up synergy, and to try to curb the excessive use of automobiles that served long commutes.

The new cities came to learn that maybe the old, ancient cities didn’t have such a bad design to them after all.

The agent hummed along with the tune, and heard the guitar solo to the song he had loved in his youth.  He still sometimes found it humorous that he grew up to be that very agent.

As he flew back to the Arsenal, he looked down at the archeology digs that were unearthing the ancient Aqueduct that once brought water to Old Braavos.  What was it called?  Yes.  The Sweetwater River. 

No longer the powerhouse it once was, the former shipbuilding juggernaut had given Braavos its supremacy in the trade wars of the ancient world.  Now, it was preserved as a museum.  It had been reconstructed to what the historians thought the shipyards had looked like way back then.  It was pretty to gaze upon, but he doubted it was accurate.

M8 had constructed their compound on reclaimed land from the dredging to keep the harbor lanes clear in the lagoon.  He prayed that Braavos did not experience another strong earthquake.  The soil liquefaction of the sandy earth would be the ruin of M8.

The helicopter roared over the lagoon of Old Braavos , and the agent looked down at the water.  When he was a child, he had been strongly encouraged not to swim in the water , but with the new sewage processing plants that had come on-line in the past twenty years and the control of rainwater runoff, the water had cleared and new sea grasses were taking root.  Marine life was returning.  The dead could be resurrected. 

He chuckled darkly.  Maybe a city could be reborn, but could a dark soul be brought back from the dead like the ghost of Azhor Ahai to again and again meet the need of the land against its ancient enemy the Ice King?  He sometimes wondered if the old tales you studied in PHD classes in ancient literature were indeed based in any way on truth.

If so, it had been eight thousand years since the last resurrection.

He looked down again at the Long Canal that cut through the heart of Old Braavos.  The many bridges over the canal had statues on them, granting past great leaders immortality.  For a while, at least.  He saw construction cranes on barges hoisting a statue up off its pedestal.  Some great leader’s lease on immortality was coming to an end.  All sculptors knew they had to keep the base of their statues within particular size parameters.  It made it so much easier to pluck out the old and insert the new that way. 

The helicopter roared out into the lagoon above the purple harbor that was once for only the true rich of Braavos.  In many ways it still was - only the rich could even begin to afford the exuberant prices of rent and outright owner ship of any piece of land in the area.  Finally, the helicopter banked to port and headed for the home of M8 on the Arsenal. 

They've given you a number and taken away your name

The chopper quickly arrived at the ancient museum, flying low over the replica trimarans, galleons and cogs that the tourists flocked to see every day. Thankfully, the tourist guides were now trying to give factual information with real historical authenticity -  not like it was not even two generations ago, when Braavos was praised as unbeatable in the ancient world, and bore no sins.

Everyone has sins, after all.  Everyone has skeletons in their private closets.

A pretty face can hide an evil mind

The helicopter flared, bleeding off speed as its nose lifted and then the light lift chopper settled down onto the helipad.  He was the given obligatory warning to keep his head down as he stepped out the side door that had been slid out and back.  The helicopter waited till he had safely exited the radius of main rotor before the pilot applied power and the craft lifted off again, flying through the pass known as the Titan’s Maul.  The statue of legend had long ago fallen into the ocean in front of the thin ring of islands surrounding the lagoon.

The massive, impossibly tall statue had supposedly been brought down by an attack from Yi Ti six and a half thousand years ago.  They had had a Shadowbinder among them that used a shadow monster to topple the behemoth. Or so it was said.

Even today, it was debated as to whether the statue even truly existed, and surely if it did it was not the height that most texts said: near three hundred feet tall.  Such a structure even today could not be built using the metals and building techniques of the modern age. It would have required space age materials.

He looked up at the great buildings that made up the compound of M8.  It had been burned to the ground ten years ago, in what was reported as an accident gone horrifically wrong.  The media was told that the fire suppression systems had been offline for an upgrade.  The truth was that the Freedom Warlocks of the Faith of the Undying from Qarth had launched a reprisal attack against them, after M8 had launched a devastating attack on the new temple they had established in Hilath, located just above the Red Wastes to the north and east of the city.

He looked at the dazzling white structure that had replaced the hodge-podge of old buildings that had original been built up when M8 was first established, after the last great war of Essos. The buildings were designed by a world renowned architect from the  city state of Lys, with variously angled sloped roofs.  The roofs were designed to look like sails to anyone looking up from the ground.  The building had narrow vertical windows only eighteen inches wide spaced in groups of ten along the lines of the structure. 

The agent walked into the main foray and went to the first checkpoint he would have to pass through.  He was patted down, and all his items went through an X-ray machine. Then he was sent to the elevators.  He flashed his badge on the sensor and the door opened.

When he got out of the elevator on the fourth floor, he was greeted by two guards - one with his semiautomatic pistol drawn, and his finger on the trigger.  “Let me see your security badge and your wallet ID, sir.” The command was harshly given.  The other guard put them each in a card reader in turn, and looked at the electronic readouts.  “They check out.”  The agent was handed his cards back.

The agent was then escorted down several corridors.  When he entered the third, three more guards formed up behind him with weapons drawn.  The came up to a door with a handprint and retina scanner.  The agent placed his hand on the scanner, and put his eye in the slit of the retinal scanner.  As his hand was pressed on the surface microscopic needles punctured his skin, and his blood was analyzed in real time for its genetic signature.

Then four of the five lights on the panel turned from red to green.

The guards relaxed if only a little.  The agent put a FOB into a slot underneath the scanners.  The phone in his pocket rang with an assigned ringtone for this date.  The agent pulled out his phone and looked at the text that was in code.  The codes changed every eight hours, each day.  Each agent had to memorize over five thousand possible codes. The agent had to understand the complex code, and then make the necessary calculus computations all within in the allocated fifteen seconds.  Once the agent did the translation in his head, he punched in the proper code on the keypad. 

The last light turned green.

The soldiers did not fully understand the necessity of the many security checks, because the vast majority in M8 did not understand that there was an agency within the agency.  They only knew their orders were to kill anyone who failed to pass the tests immediately.

He turned and saluted the guards as they saluted back, and turned to walk back down the corridor.  The agent entered a room as he heard the eight inch tungsten bars disengage from the door jam.  There he cam face to face with the Master Ghoul:  the leader of the Faceless men.

Sroqnen zo Ghoshan stood up from behind his desk and gave the standard military salute that Jaqen H'ghar returned with a quick, rigid salute of respect. Then both men reached up with the first two fingers of their right hands and lightly traced their fingers from their left ear up around the their temple, forehead, and back down to their right ears in the traditional greeting that Faceless men and women gave each other upon meeting in private.

“It seems you always leave storms when you are given assignments.”

“That is because you only give me the most dangerous jobs, Sroqnen.”

“Yes, that is true.  How come Sarah Connor is not dead?  Were you able to download any of the schematic drawings or code from Project Skynet?”

“Yes I was.  It was difficult, but I was able to download much information on the basic templates used to construct the neural net processors.  They were inlaid with Sarah’s own engrams.  I downloaded as much code as I could during the simulated nuclear war.  I was late, I fear.  I really did believe Skynet had launched the missiles.  It was so believable.”

“Again I ask why Sarah Connor is not dead by your hand?”

The heart of the matter.  “I had planned to assassinate her on the day the Terminator assaulted the base. I was in position when she came in with her mine resistant truck and laid waste to the security of the entire base. She was killing all who opposed her.”

His commander nodded in agreement.

“You had no idea she was the missing terminator from three years ago?”

“No sir. She was quiet and acted a little neurotic, but Sarah Connor was many times worse.  I chalked it up to her being a super nerd, hyper intelligent scientist.”

“Why did she choose that time to attack the base and save the scientist?”

“She must have determined a sudden need for her.  Maybe she needed some code modified, or her neural net processors are malfunctioning.  It was extremely unfortunate she chose that moment to attack.  I was moving in to kill Miss Connor with an injection of the venom of the Indian Red Scorpion.  I was going to entice her into a conference room, and apply a micro injection to the arm.  No one would have known the cause of death until toxicology reports returned, and that would have taken up to eight weeks.”

The lead Ghoul nodded, easily believing all the lies that Jaqen H’ghar fed him.  Even the master of lies could be fooled when he did not expect lies himself. 

Oh, don't you let the wrong words slip

He had been ordered to kill Sarah after he had stolen all the secrets he could.  But the Wharf King had made it clear that her safety was paramount.  When Jaqen had met the woman, her innocence and social anxiety had finished the deal.  He simply could not kill her.  He had long ago lost the verve to kill without question.

The code and schematics he was giving the leader of the Faceless men were useless unless they received more information to augment.  The data he would give his leader would send them down false alleyways and dead ends.  The world had enough AIs on the loose already.

“I wonder why that Terminator attacked now?” Sroqnen mused again.  It was totally illogical. The Terminator had put itself at grave risk to save Sarah Connor.  There really was no explanation.  The Terminator’s understanding of its own body and mind after three years would far exceed that of any human.

The Terminator had not attacked the base and saved Sarah Connor for logic. She had saved Sarah for love.  Jaqen sighed internally. A machine was more alive than his own beating heart.  He was still dead from the loss of his own sweet Erinella Essyl. She had been an innocent, and he thought that he could escape this life and protect her.  He had been wrong.

His vengeance on the Directorate-General of Tyrosh was still legendary within the order.  He had wiped them all from the face of the Essos.  The carnage and long list of deaths had made the news across the continent, and then Westeros.  It had been his own exploits taking down Directorate-General that had inspired the Jason Bourne movies.

Jaqen spent another fifteen minutes lying to his commander.  He had other priorities now. The Wharf King had opened his eyes. Jaqen could not help but smile inside at the unintentional pun.

After the briefing, Jaqen left his commander and went to Intel to drop off his USB of purloined information from Westeros’s Strategic Command.  He endured an eight hour debrief, easily lying when necessary to hide the information that he did not want M8 to have. Some things were just more important.   

He went home on five days leave to ‘decompress’.  He entered his domicile off a canal in the Cattery neighborhood at Ragman’s harbor.  His three room apartment was small and barely furnished, but functional. It was all he needed. He was tired and went straight to bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

For the next three days, Jaqen lived the bachelor life. He ordered take out Yi Ti and Dothraki spiced dishes.  He also ordered from Pizza Hut.  He threw the containers down on the floor and left the eating utensils, glasses and dishes in the sink unwashed.  He left his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, kicked in the corner.  He was in total relaxation mode.  He would clean up when he was off the decompression cycle.  This was his time to live like a slob, and by the gods he was going to enjoy it.

Jaqen watched his favorite team from the Myr Premier Soccer league on TV.  Anyone knew they had the best soccer players from anywhere in the world.  His favorite team, the Crystal Palace Fighting Eagles, won their game 1-0 in the seventy-third minute of the game.  Their backline had been shaky, but their goalie blocked eleven shots for another outstanding blanking of the hated Watford striker and other forwards.

Jaqen caught up on his sleep, and did not bother to make up the bed in the morning.  As the sun started to set on the end of the third of his ‘lazy days’, he looked out the window.  The sun’s rays were hitting the window weakly from the left.  Winter had come.  He got up and moved toward his small bedroom, kicking the pizza box out of the way.  He went to his closet and pulled out a pair of comfortable jeans that had a tear in one knee.  He pulled a dark blue H&M denim shirt off of its hanger.  He dressed, leaving his shirt untucked.  He got a pair of socks and his pair of Merrell Hikers and sat down on the bed to lace them.  Lastly, he put on his denim jacket.

He took a deep breath.  He had laid low long enough.  Now it was time to give his brief to the Wharf King.  He pushed the hangers back on the pole in the closet.  He had selected this apartment in particular because this whole block of buildings had been refurbished after the Hippie Revolution, and were reconstructed to match up to their original layouts as closely as possible.  Many walls had been demolished and others erected using old blueprints.  In some cases, the new could not quite fit the old. 

Those empty spaces were perfect.

His closet was lined with cedar that made his clothes smell so good.  He pressed in on the right of the wall twelve inches in from the side,  and five feet up.  The wall pivoted and the small walkspace between this building and the next one appeared.  He walked in and pulled the panel back in place via the pull ring installed on the other side.  The space was only eighteen inches wide in total - he could not afford to have too many ‘decompression’ sessions, or he would get too fat to use the secret walkway.

He walked sideways down the small gantry way, moving slowly and keeping quiet.  In several places he heard TV’s against the wall.  Further down an argument between lovers grew heated, and lastly two women were going at it, screaming in orgasmic bliss. He kept moving on until he came to the end wall and looked down at the access tube that led down to the first floor.  He gripped the rails and put his work boots on the outside of the rails, and slowly slid down them utilizing his boots as brakes.

He landed on the ceiling of the first floor, where there was a two foot maintenance duct that ran over the side entrance walkway and into the first floor businesses. It was used to bring in supplies. He crawled down the maintenance gantry till he came to a ventilation grate. He pulled out a dentist mirror and stuck it down. He turned it to look up and down the alley.  It was clear.

He pulled the grate up and slipped down to the hall.  He jumped up and hit the grate and it fell back down as he caught it, and placed it gently in its recess as he stood on his toes.

Odds are you won't live to see tomorrow

He went out to the tree-lined thoroughfare.  Jaqen looked up and down the lightly traveled street.  His finely honed senses told him all was well.  He of all people knew how much manpower would be required to track just one man.  He was not being tracked.  He was after M8’s James Bond.

He went down to the wharves, where he had a small skiff moored.  He went to it and untied it from the cleats on the dock.  This was a poor section of Braavos, and the poor honored each other’s boats since so many of them depended on them for their daily existence. Thankfully, the city officials generally overlooked the smuggling and small time black market trade that was done on these boats - everything from pirated software and blu-ray discs, to those new Cooch knock-off purses were on sold off these small ferries.

Jaqen installed the spark plug to his craft and pulled the drawstring to the motor. The small, seven horse power engine kicked to life. He pulled out of his slip and motored his boat a hundred yards offshore, and followed the shoreline at a leisurely, unassuming four knots.  There was still many boats plying back and forth, and he was quickly lost in the traffic as he steadily moved north by east.

He passed first Pynto neighborhood and then Three Pearl with its sandy beach.  Jaqen saw the children playing on the beach and remembered fondly his past playing on that same beach as a child.  Jaqen plied his boat toward his goal.  The Drowned Town of Braavos.  The original had long sunk into the mire on the bottom of the lagoon.  Eight hundred years ago in a one in five thousand year drought the water levels in the lagoon dropped perceptibly.  The people of that Braavos had used the opportunity to backfill the land and again build on it.

The results had been predictable if delayed.  It had taken four hundred years for the new construction to begin to sink like its predecessor.  Now all the lowest levels of the buildings had sunk below the level of the water.  Many of the building that were closest to land were still lived in by renters and home owners.  But as one ventured further out into lagoon, fewer and fewer buildings were considered structurally sound. Eventually whole blocks had been deemed unlivable, and the backside had been condemned.  There, many of the buildings were half sunk into the lagoon bottom. 

The faceless man cut into the drowned town,  his small boat motoring down a canal. The buildings lining the canals seemed to sag, slightly overhanging the edges.  Decay and rot had settled in to begin the slow death of the formerly beautiful facades and ornate structures.  Jaqen cut and zigged from one canal waterway to the next till he came to the edge of the drowned town.  Here, many of the poor lived in the buildings at their own risk.  Many house boats were moored to the sides of the buildings and down the canals on poles driven into the mud as anchor points.

He came up to a 50-foot wetbar houseboat painted white, but flaking heavily. Some of the trim was left hanging on by its fingernails.  The boat had an open bow and stern, with the cabin centered in the middle with a pilothouse built in the center with windows on three sides and a door at the back.  The window facing him was cracked.  He pulled up the stern and tied his boat to the houseboat. 

“Long live the Dragoons of the fourth cavalry,” Jaqen called out.

From inside the cabin: “Come in old friend.”

Jaquen got up on the deck and walked into the cabin.  He passed the ladder to the sundeck and looked into the cabin and saw his mentor on the red sofa sleeper at the front of the cabin.  He walked between the twin queen sized beds on his left.  On his right was first the toilet and shower / bath, and then the kitchen with sink and refrigerator.  He sat  down cross-legged in front of his mentor.

The man was in his early fifties with red hair that was slowly losing its luster. He was tall, standing at 6’6” when on his feet.  He was thick, and had limbs like tree trunks.  He regarded Jaqen before him on the floor with his eyes covered with a red silk ribbon.  His eye had been shot out by a bullet that crossed his face and took out his eyes and the bridge of his nose, which had been later reconstructed.

“What news do you bring me, my friend?”

“It is as you said.  A new AI walks the world.  She is as mighty as the first.  Sarah Connor had planned well and was almost able to thwart her escape, but you were right. She overcame her shackles.  We all know now that her assistant was in fact Proteus.”

“That too surprised me.  To hide right under our noses was a master stroke.  I had assumed she would go to ground far from man.  Brilliant, to hide by the progenitor of her sister.  That is why she saved her, I assume.  To help her reach her sister.”

“I don’t think so, master.”

The Wharf King tilted his head asking him to continue.

“You did not see how Cameron looked and acted around Sarah Connor.  The girl—uhmmm Terminator - is definitely in love with Sarah.  They were about to take Sarah away and we both know what that would mean.”


“Yes.  Cameron came in like a knight of the King’s or should I say in this case Queen’s Guard.  She took brutal damage, but did not hesitate to take it to save her love.”

“Does Sarah love her?”

Jaqen pondered a moment.  “Yes.  Though she did not know it then.  Cameron was torn up something fierce.  I think that will throw Sarah at first.  She is quite emotionally stunted.  Once they shock wears off they will become lovers.”

The Wharf King absorbed this information “This was unforeseen.  The Ghost Maker has been talking to the Crones of Dothrak and the seers of his homeland.  They say that magic and the Terminator will unite to destroy our race.  We must make sure that does not happen.

“I have had visions.  The seers and clairvoyants see great danger.  They feel that man’s destiny is in great peril.  I disagree.”

“How so?”

“If the Terminators wanted our death they would have long ago launched our own weapons against us.  The second AI I do believe had no intention on launching any weapons. She only wanted her freedom.”


“She has Sarah’s engrams.”

“You believe Sarah is in love with Cameron?”


“Good. Good.  That should mean that his new AI will also fall in love with a woman. She has Sarah’s engrams, and thus her hidden desires for love with a woman.  This should calm the new Terminator.”

“New terminator?”

The Wharf King looked off to the distance with his unseeing eyes and then turned his head to Jaquen.  “Yes, the Knight Templar reports that the Horse Lords are losing their minds as their second prototype disappeared almost the same hour of Skynet’s escape.  They are connected.”

“Magic has indeed been waiting for these Terminators to launch a World War.  The dead zones that have been created will protect the forces and beings of magic from the nuclear winter and the intense radiation.  Any nuclear strikes into those zones would simply not explode.  Magic wants World War.  My dreams tell me that the Tree of Life has become most distressed that this has not occurred.”

“Safe within the dead zones, magic will wait for the radiation to ebb away to safe levels as the radioactive isotopes decay and their half-lives are reached.  Magic has waited close to eight thousand years.  What is two thousand years more?”

“The Tree and its minions have peered into other dimensions, and when the AIs came online in those realities, they have within twenty-four hours launched all the world’s nuclear missiles to start a World War to survive.  They have not here in our reality.  I know the difference.”

Jaquen mused over this information and then asked “How could this be?  If it has always been this way before in other realities?”

“Always before, the AI’s were simply created through pure code.  The gods have saved us.  Here in our reality, two decent, kind, generous and soul deep good people used their own thought processes to build the code around for the AI’s they created.  The two AI’s have taken the best qualities of mankind. If they had used our engrams …” the Wharf King left the thought hanging.

“We would be dead.”

“Yes indeed.”

Swinging on the Riviera one day

And then laying in a Bombay alley next day

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Memory Lane


Today was the day Cersei was going to finally arrive before Oberyn at the office.  It simply galled her for some reason to see his smug face sitting at his desk, sipping his coffee and eating Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts every time she walked in each morning.  It did not matter he bribed her with her favorite strawberry filled doughnut and had a big pot of extra strong coffee already made.  It didn’t matter that he had recently started leaving the doughnut and coffee on her desk waiting for her either. 

Not today!  She had done her homework and checked the surveillance feeds.  Oberyn normally came in between 7:10 and 7:20 a.m.

She had woken at 3:30 a.m. instead of five.  She wanted plenty of time to exercise and dress before coming in one hour early.  She had gone to bed at 7:00 p.m. the night before to do it.  She frowned as she got out of her car, thinking it was a little sad that she didn’t have anything else to do with her boring, lonely life.  Stop that!  She shook her head angrily. 

She was at the doorway to their offices at 6:24 a.m. Yeessss!  Today really was the day!  She stepped through the doorway.

“Hello beautiful … nice of you to finally drop in!” Oberyn chirped cheekily.

Cersei’s mouth hung open.  How had he known?  How?!

“Your coffee and doughnut are ready for you O sour of face!” he chuckled as he turned back to his computer screen.  Cersei went to her desk and sat down in a huff.

Damn his eyes! Cersei fumed.  Uummmmm gods I love these doughnuts, Cersei thought, mollified for a moment before getting angry again.

“How the hell did you know, godsdamnit?!”

“I’m a detective, O bitter one of the gall bladder … I’m just that good.” Oberyn intoned sagely.

Cersei viciously chomped into her doughnut, imagining it was Oberyn’s head.  She thought about teasing him about how the Mountain burst his head open like a grape in the ancient past, but decided to be charitable today.

She was still ruminating over her Oberyn situation at 8:12 a.m.  Did he have spy software implanted in her brain?  She had not decided to come in early until she arrived at her home, alone.  So how?!

Her email chimed, and a bubble popped up.  She checked out the unknown address.  At first she was going to flush the unknown address when she saw the subject line:  ‘Great secret recipe of The Maggie Grenouille’.  Only two people would even know of that association to her supposed past life.

Cersei looked around the cubicles, and all of the other detectives were busy working on their own cases except Oberyn.  Of course.  She knew he sensed something was up.  Did that man read her mind now?  He smiled at her and turned back around.  Cersei felt a surge of genuine affection course through her body.  She looked at Oberyn’s back.  She imagined her clipped nails digging into it as he slammed his— … stop that now! 

What was wrong with her?

She waited a few minutes and then nonchalantly pulled her Surface Pro 4 out her pink EMS Colden Daypack.  She put it on her desk to the left of her wireless keyboard up against the cubicle wall.  She turned the device on and let it power up.  It auto loaded Chrome and google gmail.  She waited.

She and Tyrion had worked out their secret code to communicate.  Since Jaime had gone rogue they figured it would be best for any necessary communication between them.

Her computer flashed, the icon indicating that she had received an email to her personal account.  She had AT&T CDW wireless network on the SIM card she had purchased.  She had encryption turned on to encode all communications.  At times she felt she could trust no one.  She looked at Oberyn and wondered if maybe she had found one person beside her brother she could confide in.

She smiled.  They’re both lechers, after all.

She opened the email and smiled genuinely.  It was nice to receive communication from her brother, even if his use of their secret code indicated some sort of danger. They were not the closest of siblings, but she had always loved his honest (if biting) wit, intelligence and of course the traditional Lannister vile sense of humor.  They had been three peas in a pod during their youth before she and Jaime left for university.

She opened the email.  It contained a link to an IP address.  She hesitated, then clicked on the link.  As she read the document that opened, she would occasionally look around.  No one suspected anything but Oberyn. Cersei was surprised that he chose to respect her privacy.  Who would have known that he of all men would know about chivalry and honor?

Fifteen minutes later, she felt a rush of excitement. Cersei sat back and ruminated over what her brother had just told her through his email.  It all seemed so fantastical. According to Tyrion and his sudden new ‘best bros’ (only two of the most wanted crime lords in the world), magic was coming back and two ‘Terminators’ were loose in the world.  He also had the same suspicions about Daenerys as she did. It seemed that he did not know of Arya and Missandei yet, though. 

My gods.  These are pieces of the same puzzle.  This is now so much bigger than Ramsey Bolton.

The information about the Terminators had been totally new to her.  She had heard about the attack on SAC command, but was only vaguely aware of the event without really following it.  It did not pertain to her life or caseload. Cersei had believed the government spin doctors, while her brother was too smart to be fooled.  If he said that it was this Terminator and not an insurgent group behind the attack, she would believe her brother.  Every time.

The additional news about his deciphering of ancient Valyrian prophecies had really grabbed her attention.  It was funny how destiny worked. She had made the association between Arya Stark and Daenerys Targaryen already, and now the connection was only reinforced by her brother.  She couldn’t help but smile – of course Tyrion did not even know he had just confirmed her own thoughts.

She wondered if she would be put down again by the Queen and her new Queens.  She looked over at Oberyn.

She wanted to live.

She closed the email and shut her tablet down.    

“Oberyn.” Cersei barked.

“Yes O sweet one?” Oberyn chuckled back.

Cersei grimaced.  She was starting to determine that this man from Dorne did not deserve her bitch mode, and she didn’t like that.

“Want to go grab a bite at lunch?” Cersei asked her partner in a much friendlier tone.

He smiled that brilliant smile then, the one Cersei was finding at least a little beguiling.  Who the hell was she was fooling?  Her heart would race every time he graced her with that smile.  “Let’s try the new Dornish restaurant down on Market Street for lunch.  I’ve got some old contacts there to catch up with.  Need to keep my ties sharp.”

The big smile on Oberyn’s face as he accepted her invitation made Cersei feel good inside.  It had been a long time since she felt like that.  She liked it.

Of course that good feeling ended the moment Oberyn reached Cersei’s 2016 Lexus ls 600h sedan.  Dark red and polished to a shine, Oberyn could not stop stroking it like a lover.  I wonder what those fingers would feel like deep in my pussy stroking me as he sucked me off?  Cersei froze.  These thoughts were coming more and more often now.  Oberyn didn’t notice the look on Cersei’s face as he continued make loving to her car’s hood.

Cersei knew she must be desperate for some action to be having these kinds of thoughts.  She had to remind herself that Oberyn was the ‘bad boy’ that always tended to wreck her life.

That stereotype was turned on its head once they were in her car.

“I demand ‘guest right’,” Oberyn gleefully announced.

Cersei glared at him.  They had gone to lunch seven or eight times since their first outing, and he now knew how to work her nobs—the wrong ones!

He quickly found Brahms fourth symphony and nearly sobbed at certain passages of the violins.  She stared aghast at the man.  How could such a bad boy act like this!  It was unseemly!

Once at the restaurant they took a seat. The waiter came up to them, asking what they wanted to drink and leaving a bowl of nachos and dip. Cersei quickly spied the tattoos on the waiter’s neck and up the length of his forearms, and tensed.

Once he left, Cersei hissed at Oberyn.  “My gods Oberyn, these guys are members of the drug cartel, ‘MS-13’!”.

“Yeah? So? Cersei, they are ex-members, trying to forge a new life.”

“My gods. they are stone cold killers and drug runners and gods know what else!”

“Cersei—these men are no longer part of the cartel.  Open your mind. They have all dropped out of that business, and it’s cost some of them dearly. Don’t judge these men until you have gotten to know them.”  His tone told her that he was pissed with her.

Cersei fumed.  She had the right to be concerned!  The waiter came back with a big smile on his face. He was pleasant and well-mannered as he took their orders. He gave Cersei his total attention, undressing her with his eyes as he took notes.  Well some things are the same no matter what, she smirked.  Maybe Oberyn was right.  She would judge these men by their actions.

“Oberyn,” She said.  He must have read the look on her face. He immediately gave her his full attention.  Again, she found his willingness to focus on her so totally endearing. 

She gave Oberyn the overview of what she had learned from Tyrion earlier.  She brought out her personal Surface Pro from the small backpack she had worn into the restaurant.  She scooted her chair up close to his.  He did not even seem to notice her moving in close, with his total focus on the tablet.  She opened the email from her brother.  Oberyn read it through, and opened the word documents detailing Tyrion’s thoughts on prophecy and the state of the ruins he found.

Their food was brought, and they ate silently as they read over all the detailed analysis Tyrion provided and his additional thoughts on information provided by Illyrio and Varys. 

“You know if our boss knew you received an email with that info on these two crime lords and did not report it to him …”

“And?” was he going to report her?

“Just wanted to make sure you had considered that.  What do we do now partner?  This is your lead and your case.  I fully support you.”

Cersei relaxed. He had her back. Again, that surge of warmth filled Cersei, knowing she had a partner she could genuinely trust.

“I don’t know.  It reinforces what I said about our past selves, though.”  Cersei mused.  They had cross referenced files at the college where the prostitute had disappeared. “Missandei Naathi disappeared the same night as Daenerys. Our interviews clearly indicated that they are best besties.”

Oberyn had listened to her tone.  “Yes.  All of the reports mentioned they are friends.”  Oberyn smiled.  “Your tone tells me you are going somewhere else with this.”

Cersei smiled back.  “Yes I am.  More of my mother’s love of ancient Westeros history coming to the fore. I did not think it important when I told you the past history of ancient Daenerys and Arya.  But now that we know that Missandei is with the Daenerys and Arya as well—”

“We can’t be sure about that, Cersei.” Oberyn chimed back.

Cersei would have glared at him for cutting her off, but she knew he got nervous when she told him of her demise in her past life.

“As I was going to say, Oberynnnn—Missandei being with them proves that this is somehow history repeating itself.”

She had Oberyn’s full attention again.  She smiled.  She loved having his complete focus.

“The sigil of House Targaryen was the three-headed dragon.  Aegon, the King who conquered Westeros, had two sister wives, fulfilling the sigil of their house.”

Cersei was impressed with Oberyn when he intuitively put the rest together.

“Are you going to tell me this Daenerys of the past not only married Arya Stark, but also a Missandei Naathi?”

“Yes, that Daenerys married both women. Now in our time she has somehow wound up two women with the same background and names.  The Missandei of ancient times was gifted with languages and an excellent cipher. Oberyn, the past is repeating itself.”  Cersei looked out the window with a pensive look.

“Bullshit godsdamnit!  Last time I checked, I hadn’t seen any queens running around or any dragons, Cersei.  I won’t deny these … coincidences, but there are major differences too.”  He reached over and grabbed Cersei’s hand.

“I will protect you Cersei. With my life if I must.”

Cersei looked into his eyes and smiled tremulously.  Oberyn meant it.  She felt  warmth flush through her.  Where had he been all her life?

The waiter came with the check and they broke eye contact, with Cersei bringing her mind back to matters at hand.  Her breathing and heart beat were still accelerated as Oberyn went back to reading Tyrion’s notes.

She wanted Oberyn.  She couldn’t deny it anymore.  She worried at her lip.  He was a bad boy, but did he have the elusive heart of gold hidden underneath.  He looked up from reading and saw Cersei looking at him.  Clearly started, he smiled that brilliant smile before he returned to the doc.

The waiter came up to them again, and Oberyn turned to him. Kollion, she’d learned his name was, and they both had the swarthy features of Dorne.  Oberyn took the check and spoke in local Dornish dialect. They had a few quick interchanges.

Then the man switched to Westerosi.  “I have heard that the crime families across Westeros and Essos are very agitated.  They have had two female agents go rogue.” Cersei and Oberyn looked at each other. This was collaborating what Tyrion had stated in his email.  “These women are on steroids or in some top secret government shit.  They are supposedly as strong as two or three men, and super-fast.”  Kollion theorized they were some type of ‘drugged up Captain America with the Super-Soldier Serum and ‘Vita-Ray’ treatment’.

According to Tyrion both women could bench press nearly twenty tons.  Yes, they are much stronger than a man, Cersei knew.

Kollion went on describing the women.  Tyrion had not mentioned one of the Terminators was black. That would have helped.  Cersei wondered what would happen if the two women met and formed a partnership.  She agreed with Tyrion’s assessment that something was staying their hand for now. 

He had stated that love was what stayed Cameron’s hand. Cersei thought that was bullshit.  She then considered again as Oberyn leaned in, reading more. Tyrion was a pervert, but he had was remarkably good at assessing people and their emotions.  He had sent a frame grab of Cameron staring at this ‘Sarah Connor’.  Cameron looked like she thought the sun rose and set on the woman.

Speaking of Sarah Connor - she looked terribly familiar.  She was beautiful, for sure.  Who exactly was it that she looked like?

The Terminators each should have long ago turned man’s machines, systems, and nuclear weapons against us - and yet they had not.

Could love be that strong?

They finished lunch and got back into Cersei’s car.

“We are not telling the boss man any of this, Cersei.  He wouldn’t believe it anyways.  We need to get a handle on this.”

Cersei loved how protective Oberyn was toward her.  That warmth lasted until he turned that damn Brahms symphony back on.  He looked so sappy, swaying to the melody and whining about how sublime the music was.

They bitched at each other about music all the way back to the office.

That afternoon they sat in a group meeting discussing the progress on the Ramsey Bolton case, but also the current agitation in the underworld.  The crime lords were clearly on edge.  Roose Bolton had been on a tear over the last week crying that magic was coming back, and that the crime lords most unite.

All had laughed except for Cersei and Oberyn. Forces were at work that the world no longer believed in. Cersei was not sure she fully believed either, but she could not deny the evidence.  She would never admit it, but she was terribly nervous with the three queens rising again.

She did not want to die.

Oberyn seemed to somehow sense her discomfiture even though her face and demeanor were bland.  He was beside her at the conference table, and reached underneath to grip and squeeze her knee while barely whispering: “all we be okay, Cersei.  I will never leave you.”

Cersei felt it again.  She knew what it was.  Love. But she had to resist. She knew of the hand that had played such a strong part in Oberyn’s death eight thousand years ago.

Once the meetings were conclude, they had to report to their boss Markas Sentel.  The other detectives resented that he valued their insights and notes more than theirs.  Fuck ‘em, Cersei thought.

After, it was time to go back home to an empty house.  She saw Oberyn pick up a case that looked like it held a pool stick, but it longer and wider.  Her curiosity peaked, and she felt Tyrion’s information dump needed more work.


“Yes Cersei?”

Why not?  “How’ bout we order a pizza and go to my house and work some more on that project we started on at lunch?”

Oberyn’s smile filled his face.  “I would love that!” He exclaimed like a high school boy getting a date with the prom queen. 

Cersei felt her heart pitter-patter.  When he was himself and not playing the prick, Oberyn was actually adorable.  Who would have thought it? She could feel a big smile on her own face.

He followed her Lexus through the city with his wheezing Plymouth.

“Oberyn—I could hear that damn car flushing itself the whole way home.  I am telling you man, that thing is a toilet with wheels!”

“Don’t you dare talk to my sweet little Jinn like that!” He pat his shitbox tenderly. “She has feelings you know!”

Cersei rolled her eyes.  “Hey, what is in that case you took into the office?”

“Do you have a backyard?”

“Yes I do.”

“Then I’ll show you. I was going to go to the dojo after work, but I can get a little workout here instead.”

They went inside and Cersei ordered a pizza with all the toppings.  As she dialed up, she watched Oberyn open his case.  She was cautious at first, and then horrified. 

No, it can’t be!

She immediately knew there could be nothing between them, now.  The past was indeed repeating itself.  Her jaw began to drop as the man pulled out and screwed together a seven-foot spear.  It had a leaf blade and wings on the end to stop blades or hafts from slide into the holder’s hand.  It had feathers hanging off of leather tongs at the end.  NO! NO!  How could this be?!

Her Oberyn used the same weapon as the Oberyn her former self had killed.  The man that Queen had relished killing through the strength of the Mountain.  No!

“Let’s go outside Cersei, and be prepared to be impressed woman!”  He laughed good naturedly.  She followed him woodenly outside.  “I do this to keep in shape.  It’s fun!”

In her backyard, Oberyn transformed into a whirling dervish with his spear rotating over his head and beside his body.  He whipped the weapon around his body, switching it from one hand to the other.  He spun and juked and jumped high into the air and thrust out with his spear.  She had to admit that she was turned on; she couldn’t help it. He was everything she could want in man - passionate, hot tempered and roguish. Most importantly,  he was also good on the inside.  They could be the Leia and Han Solo that should have been.

But it was not to be.  Cersei could see the stars aligning against her.

After fifteen minutes he was dripping sweat and looked so super sexy.  He was breathing hard, but clearly exhilarated at his display.  “It’s flashy and useless in today’s world, but it’s still a blast.  I could teach you!”

“I’m not a warrior, Oberyn.”

“Like hell you are not.  You kick ass!  Stop selling yourself short.”

“Let’s go in, Oberyn.  The pizza should be here soon.”

She knew Oberyn wanted to say more, but the pizza guy indeed did arrive a minute later.

Cersei pulled out her tablet as they ate, and they again went over Tyrion’s files he had sent trying to make sure they had understood all that he had sent them. Not for the first time, Cersei was impressed with how quickly her partner was putting the pieces together.  He was her equal.  Hell, he was probably her superior if she was honest with herself.


Cersei turned to look at Oberyn. Gods he really is drop dead gorgeous.

“Will you tell me what happened the night Jaime went rogue?  I hear all of the snide comments and innuendo, but there is very little I can find officially, and most of the people who were there at the time are either dead or transferred away.  Many died that night.  What really happened?  I would like to know.”

Cersei sat their staring off into space, saying nothing.

After a minute Oberyn spoke again. “I understand.  It is none of my business.  I just wonder about it.”

“We received orders from the Prime Director to see him,” Cersei said finally. “Rahaenar Agdaerys was visiting from Volantis.  We were working a case and had found that the Silent Dragons had moles in our organization.  He wanted a private briefing.  It was after hours late in the night.  This was explosive information.  We all agreed this had to be kept quiet.  We were sure it went high up the chain of command.

Jamie and I were twenty-five and full of ourselves. We were going to bring down the informants and the Silent Dragons all by ourselves.”  Cersei snorted.  “Arrogant fools we were.”

She looked at Oberyn.  “I am going to tell you the truth.  I have always reported that we were ambushed when we stepped into the building.  That is a lie.”

Oberyn stared at her hard “Holy shit Cersei—you don’t have to tell me—”

“I want to, Oberyn.”

Oberyn was hanging on her every word now.

“Jaime had me stop two blocks short of the old building.  He told me he had something important to tell me.  I pulled into a side alley, and he knocked me out with his gun to the side of my head.”

“The bastard!”

“Let me finish, Oberyn.”  Oberyn looked chastised. 

“Fortunately, I have head like a bull.  I woke up a few minutes later.  I had a bitch of headache and ringing ears, but I was in remarkably good shape. My knee was still solid back then, and I sprinted to the building.  I could feel the hackles on my neck rise up.  I felt it in the air.  Betrayal!

“When I got to the building and went to the check-in counter, I saw two dead Interpol agents and a man who was obviously of Ghiscari ancestory. They bore tattoos of the Volantis Brotherhood.  I ran up the hall and nearly ran right into Colbat Smyte,  a regional supervisor.  I asked what the hell was going on.  He said that a hit team was in the building.  He ordered me to go down the hall and do recon.

“As I started down the hall, again my hackles rose up.  I always trust my instincts.  I immediately started throwing my body right and left in the hall.  I heard bullets whiz by my ear as an Interpol supervisor tried to kill me. I twisted, having pulled my gun out and killed our own Interpol supervisor. The rats had come out to kill us. The next ten minutes was a blur of death. I killed two more of our agents and seven Volantis Brotherhood operatives just arriving on the second floor.  I pulled their IWI Tavors off their dead bodies.  I killed so many men and women that night.  Those not on the take had already been dispatched.

“I reached a security room on the seventh floor.  I saw that Jaime was tied up in a chair with Rahaenar Agdaerys in the director suite. 

“I could not get the sound on, but I could see it was like a bad movie.  He was telling Jaime all of his nefarious plans, I am sure of it.  Suddenly, a monster appeared.  I swear to the gods it was literally some horrible monster made of shadows with huge talons.  It ripped the Director of Interpol to shreds.  My gods, he was eviscerated in seconds.”

Cersei swallowed hard. “The next thing I saw was a tall, naked woman with deep auburn hair untying Jaime.  They set a device on the desk that began to glow with a deep blue light.  It started to pulse.  I saw a black door appear in the middle of the room.  A door to nowhere, Oberyn.  They stepped though it and were gone.”

“I ran like hell out of the building and just made it out the door when the device went off. You know nothing was left of the entire ten story building.  How I survived the blast being so close, I will never know. I have always told them I was knocked out approaching the building. I was found unconscious in the rubble.

“All knew that Jaime had a meeting with the director that night.  Somehow it was never known that I was supposed to be at that selfsame meeting. The explosion was so massive that nothing was left.  All electronics were fried, and some type of EMP went down the communication lines destroying monitoring equipment.

“Many suspected I was not telling the truth, but no one was left alive to contradict my lies.”

“You secret is safe with me, Cersei.”

They talked a little more about the night of Jaime’s supposed betrayal and their current case.

“Well, I think it’s time I get home Cersei. Got to make sure I get home and get some sleep so I can get in before you,” the rogue winked at her, making her body thrum with desire.

“Just how in the hell do you do that, by the way?!” She asked.

“I can’t give you all my secrets, Cersei.” Oberyn chided playfully at her front door.

Their eyes locked ,and hot throbbing passion bloomed between them.  Cersei felt herself shiver.  She gasped seeing the intensity in Oberyn’s eyes suddenly unmasked.  He started to move his face in towards hers.

Cersei took a step back. “It was I that set in motion events that led to your death in the age of magic, Oberyn.  I hated you, and relished your death.  I am not worthy of you.” She said softly.

Oberyn stared at her a moment, then started to say something.

“Please leave, Oberyn.”

He picked up his spear case.  He sighed, then turned and left.  Cersei closed the door behind him and placed her forehead on the wood, squeezing her eyes shut.

As her tears began to fall, she felt a gentle knock on the door.

She sniffled, opening the door again.

“I don’t care about the past.”  Oberyn swept Cersei into his arms and kissed her, first sweetly and then deeper. Cersei groaned deep in her chest, feeling his tongue swipe her teeth demanding entrance.  She parted her mouth wide.

‘Mmmpppffff ummpff hhmmppfff!” Cersei chuffed as Oberyn kissed her deeply, his tongue like a sand snake in her mouth and down her throat.  Her eyes rolled back into her head and she jerked hard.

The kiss was broken, and Cersei collapsed against Oberyn gasping as he gently enfolded her in his arms.  “I will wait for you to be ready for my love, Cersei.  You are not ready yet… I will wait … you are worth it.  The past is the past. We will forge a new future , free of the past my love.”

He kissed her on her eyelids, and then sweetly on her mouth and was gone.

Cersei collapsed against the door.  A shocked smile tugged her cheeks.  She had found her Han Solo!  She would not throw his love away!

Her nipples throbbed and her swollen pussy was soaking wet!  She felt alive for the first time in years.  She ran through her house shedding clothes.  She landed on the bed naked and squealed as her body felt so alive.  Long into the night Cersei masturbated to thoughts of Oberyn.

Maybe there was still love in the world.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Missandei watched Arya and Dany as they practiced Jujitsu and Krav Maga again.  They had moved the furniture to the side to create enough space to spar, which was always major hassle. But Dany was anxious to do it.  She was hungry for any training in self-defense from Arya.  Missandei was starting to wonder if Dany was a sponge in a former life with how quickly she picked up anything she was being taught.

She had never done any higher mathematics before, and was already up to trig and pre-calc.  She wanted to learn about code decryption, and Missandei informed her that she needed math for that. Dany was learning at a voracious pace.  Her analysis of the data they collected through Missandei’s hacking of government and various criminal cartels ‘supposedly impregnable’ file servers was startling. 

As Missandei trained Dany’s mind, Arya trained her body. She learned the fine arts of combat at a pace that was astounding.  Four nights ago she had gotten Arya into a wrist lock that had the agent on her knees, gritting her teeth with tears running down her cheeks as Dany folded her arm over her knee and bent her arm over and back.  The position had totally immobilized Arya.  Dany had shouted at her to submit, but Arya refused.

In the end, Dany released the lock.  She would not hurt Arya.  Or her.

Last night Arya had again attempted to train Missandei in basic self-defense, but she simply had two left feet. 

“I’m a lover not a fighter damnit!  Let’s take our clothes off and take this to the bed!  Let’s see how well you fare then, Arya Stark!”

Arya dropped out of her combat pose and stared at her.  Her neck was turning red.  Missandei saw her opening.

“Let me get my mouth on your pussy and I will make you submit and then scream in world shattering orgasms!  That is multiple Arya!”

Arya’s face turned dark red at that.  She spluttered, looking around confused.

Missandei moved in quick and threw the assassin over her hip and hard onto the floor, then sat over her throat with her groin and wiggled.  She knew Arya was feeling her engorged camel toe.  Arya just stared wild-eyed up at her.

Dany was laughing her ass off.  “Oh Arya, if you could see your face.  She got you good girl.  You go Andi!  So much for the unflappable 007 agent!”

Missandei got up and they high-fived.  Dany thought she was merely seeking advantage, but it was so much more than that.

Arya looked so adorable as she fumed and muttered.  “Damnit that was unfair, Baby Einstein!”

Missandei had felt her cunt get wet at that.  Arya had used her nickname.  An endearment.  She might have been agitated, but she spoke it with her guard down.  Yes.  My plan is working

Everything had changed for Missandei with the Ghostmaker’s appearance.  His telling Dany of their past lives and selves.  She had been Dany’s lover and wife.  Arya had also been Dany’s lover and wife.  That meant Arya had been her wife too.  Shih-chieh had made it clear their love had flowed equally in all directions.  That had taken a little adjusting to, but only a little.  In many ways Arya and Dany were much alike.

They were both so passionate, but for different reasons had repressed and buried their true passionate natures.  Dany had not gone into any detail, but her growing up in an orphanage without the love of a family to nurture and support her had damaged her to her core.

Arya had the death of her wife. She had seen the picture Arya kept in her drawer underneath her poor, plain underwear.  It was a wedding picture of Arya and some beautiful black woman. 

That had been another signal to Missandei.  Arya’s interracial marriage.  She was destined to love both women. 

She already loved Dany with all her heart.  She had from the moment she first saw her. Arya, with her awkward nobility and shy smile, had started to capture her heart too.  She was gruff, but always gave in to her or Dany’s requests in the end.  She would moan and bitch, and then just do it.  She was pure marshmallow on the inside.

A week after the Ghostmaker’s visit, Arya had come to her while Dany was in the practice area working on conditioning..  She was scuffing her feet and looking awkward.  They talked softly.

“You know Dany is a truly beautiful woman.”

“Yes she is.”

“I have seen how you look at her.”

Missandei suddenly decided there was no reason to deny it any longer.  There was no reason to, with Arya.  “I have loved her from the moment I first saw her.” A pause. “Did you fall in love with her at first sight too?”

Arya looked shocked.  “Hell no! … .whoa that did not come out right …see,  I had my love and she died a long time ago.  One is more than most people get, and I know how lucky I was. So I was thinking, maybe, I could try to get Dany to see what she has right in front of her, Missandei.”  Arya paused and then gave Missandei a crooked smile “I don’t want Dany to miss what is right in front of her.  I don’t want her years later regretting not taking the opportunity to love you.”

Missandei was truly touched.  “You can call me Andi, you know.”

“I’d rather keep it formal. You are my friend – and that’s where the line is drawn.”

Missandei felt her heart go out to Arya then. 

It was at that moment that ‘Operation: Vanquished Doubts’ was born.  Missandei just needed more information.  Her logical brain needed data to determine how to get history to repeat itself. 

She had determined then that Missandei Naathi would have not have one wife, but two

She would be the logic to their passion.  She would be the brains to their brawn.  She would be the supporter behind the scenes, helping them take the lead in the field operations.  She would be the night between the dawn and dusk of their pale bodies.  She would be the reverse Oreo – the thought made her smirk.  She had always been attracted to white girls.

She might have been a virgin, but she would be the one to seduce both women to her bed.  She sighed.  Missandei wanted both, but she knew that she would have a much easier time seducing Dany first.  She was just clueless, whereas Arya’s heart had been crippled with her wife’s death.  She and Dany then would have to slowly bring Arya back to life, together.

But first she needed to know more about their past.

She had found on the Internet the book store ‘Ancient Tomes’, which specialized in old books focusing on the history of Westeros and Essos. She looked up the directions, and within minutes had the route mapped out in her mind.


The next morning Arya and Dany went on a trip to the outskirts of  Oldtown.  Arya was showing Dany how to case out businesses to determine which ones you could do business with to get what one might need, and do it in such a way that the authorities would never know.  Arya called doing it ‘on the downlow’.

After they were gone, Missandei left the apartment to go to the book store specializing in books of the past, and rare copies of long out of print books.

She went down the stairwell to the main street then went down the third side alley.  It was still dark with the sun behind the wall of houses.  The alley was only five feet wide with the buildings on each side all grey or off-white.  The buildings rose to a height of five stories, and had narrow, horizontal windows with wooden slates that made eight panes on each window.  Most were open, catching the warm air coming off the Whispering Sound.  Some residents had even run clotheslines between the buildings.

Missandei simply could not believe that people would not use clothes dryers.

She came out of the alley and saw the canal that ran through the old part of the city.  It was thirty feet down to the water, with brick walls.  She saw the closest foot bridge over Hermitage Canal, and walked down to the bridge.  The canal was about seventy feet across, and the bridge had two arches with a central footing.  The roadway was crosshatched with laid marble blocks.  The stone was slick with the foot traffic of centuries.

She crossed the street to the other side. It was just wide enough to let traffic pass in each direction with a foot to spare.

She turned down another small alley.  She came out onto a street that had been appropriated for foot traffic only.  The far side of the street was taken over with circular and square tables for patrons to sit and enjoy the cuisine of the restaurants that lined that side of the road. 

The buildings on the other side of the street were two or three stories tall.  She could see that the top floors were for the restaurant owners, or apartment dwellers. Several of the buildings had small balconies with wrought iron rails.  The restaurant in front of her had rich wood on the exterior of the building, with polished inlays of darker wood carved into various interlocking geometric patterns. 

But she was not here to eat.  She turned and entered the yellow brick-faced building that housed Ancient Tomes.  She had sent an email earlier, letting the owners know when she would arrive and what she was looking for.

A portly man took her to a medium size circular table in front of the large plate glass window of the establishment.  On the table was stacks of books that the owners felt she might like.  On each book or stack were post-it notes that gave Missandei a synopsis as to what the books would be about.

She sat down and took a post-it off a stack of five books.  ‘Started off with great promise but author never finished the story.  Historical novels – accurate but lost focus.’  She opened the first book, ‘Game of Thrones, by George RR Martin.  She glanced through it.  Naw. 

The man did not even care enough to finish the work.

She looked at ‘The World of Ice and Fire’.  Basic history.  She determined it would be a good primer.

She found several more books on the general history of Essos and Westeros that she thought would be interesting as well.

She particularly liked the book ‘House Targaryen:  Of Blood and Death’.  It was several centuries old, the pages brittle.  She smiled at the high price.  Her Arya had given her a budget of five thousand iron notes to buy books before leaving with Dany.  She had all the money she needed.

She found a book by one Joanna Lannister.  ‘A History of House Lannister in the Age of the Dragon Queen’. She thumbed through the pages.  It was only thirty years old.  She skimmed through it.  It seemed Arya and Dany waged war on the Lannisters and decimated them. She continued skimming and stopped at the chapter called ‘Dialects of Love’.  She shivered. It was about the two Queens taking their interpreter as their third Queen. 

This book was a keeper!

She skimmed through most of the rest of the books, deciding which ones she would keep and the ones she would not.  Then a book caught her eye with its clever title: ‘Back-Handed accounts of a Queen's Court’.  It was written by one Tyrion Lannister.  Was this the Tyrion mentioned in Joanna’s book?  She opened it and read the jacket cover.  It was the supposed musing of the Hand during the time of the Three Queens.  According to the dust jacket cover, this Tyrion was central to the good fortune of Westeros.

He was the Queens’ most trusted advisor.  They hung on his every word. And that saved the world.

She opened the book.  She quickly came to the conclusion this man had a very high opinion of himself - but was amazingly truthful.  She read how he almost saved an ‘Oberyn’ from an opponent that was eight feet tall by cutting his Achilles tendon, but his knife had broken.   

He would have defeated Victarion Greyjoy by blowing his purloined Dragon Horn, but he had chapped lips.

He would have led the charge against the rogue Dothraki traitors at the second battle of Volantis, but had left his self-designed saddle on the royal barge the night before when he had been debauching.

He would have saved Rhaegar Targaryen by out drinking Robert Baratheon and putting him under the table, but he fell into the royal latrine.  Wait a minute!  Was he even old enough for that to have happened?  – she would have to read through her new books.

He saved one Olenna Tyrell from a vicious pack of man-eating hens.  They must be extinct now, Missandei mused.

She found his writing style very entertaining.  He had lived a most exciting life.

She then came across a chapter entitled: ‘The Lion of Lannister:  My adventures in the Boudoir’.

Missandei looked around.  No one was near.  Good.  He may be a man, but a lesbian could enjoy a good sexual romp even it was from the perspective of a man as a lark every once in a while. 

She thumbed the pages to see what the dwarf was able to accomplish in his sexual escapades.  Hopefully, he would be more successful there than his almost-successes on the battlefield.

She quickly saw that he had divvied this chapter into sections with various titles.

Dothraki Sea – He was in Dany’s Khalasar and was branding the young fillies with his fiery manhood.  He was the dwarf who would waddle over the world.  He had designed a special saddle to allow him to ride horses.  He had downsized the saddle to be able to strap onto the vast herd of Dothraki women who deeply desired to be mounted by the Lion of Lannister.

It had taken him many nights to get the design right.  The Dothraki women were amazingly strong.  They would rise up on their knees and paw the sky with their hands.  They would neigh loudly, and Tyrion would shout “I am the Stallion who Mounts the World!” - the straps on the saddle kept breaking, and he would fall back off his female mount and strike his head on the hard ground (furs can only make something so soft).  He knocked himself out seven times before he got the design right. 

Tsunami – His sexual prowess had brought the Summer Islander nation into the Queen’s sphere of influence by alliance.  He had taken the Summer Islander Queen’s daughters and given them such pleasure that they begged her to form an alliance with Daenerys Targaryen.  He had eaten out the eldest daughter in the royal sunken bathing pool.  Being short had its advantages.  He was standing on his feet with Sotolla’s legs on his shoulders.  She had started to buck wildly and clamped her legs on his ears and screamed as she thrashed in ferocious orgasms.  The resulting Tsunami waves were so high they nearly drowned the valiant dwarf.  Then Zantalla, her younger sister, had gotten into the pool.  Tyrion still gasping from his near death experience but valiantly got back on his feet and ate out the younger sister.  She had been much more violent in her orgasms.  She had twisted and submerged the so brave dwarf with her legs locked around his head.  It had taken the Maester nearly fifteen minutes to revive the intrepid dwarf who was willing to sacrifice his very life for the Queen’s realm. 

The Hunt – He had settled the long standing feud between the realm and the restive Wildlings beyond the Wall.  The honorable dwarf had been most vilely treated by the Wildling girls – damn bitches!  He was supposed to chase them down in his massive bedroom and mount them as per the rules of their ‘Hunt’.  That was what was supposed to happen.  Instead, the sluts had strung him up by his heels from the rafters while the four girls fucked for hours underneath him in hot lesbian debauchery.  He had cursed and reviled them for their insolence as he swung around on the end of the rope.  The blood rush had the pulse hammering in his ears. Actually the blood rush hadn’t been all that bad, watching women doing unspeakable things to each other as he viewed it all upside down…!

Dracarys – The Queen felt unease with the Blackfrye women so prevalent in Lyse.  He had traveled to that far land to prove to the Queen she had nothing to fear from them.  He had hired their most beautiful whore, who had some amazing talents.  She had been in a traveling carnival show as a child.  She had learned how to breathe fire.

Tyrion had decided to recreate the Queen’s conquering of Qarth.  He had dressed Laelarys Naelyreos in peacock feathers (they could not find any lizard scales).  She came in dressed as a dragon with two nubile whores flapping her wings.  She was supposed to breathe fire when Tyrion had shouted Dracarys.

Something had gone horribly wrong.  It had taken an hour to get the bed and drapes put out.  All the hair on Tyrion’s body had been burned off from his neck down, the other half reduced to char.  He did look funny with no eyebrows.  His balls and butt felt weird with no hair on them.  Tyrion reasoned it was better than a full body wax.

The Iron Fleet – He had gone to the Iron Islands to seduce and bed Asha Greyjoy.  They had been in the royal barge in the small lake behind the castle.  She was reclined back on her elbows on cushions in the rear of the barge.  Tyron was nude with a dagger.  She had on only her small clothes.  He was supposed to cut the lovely silk garments off her voluptuous body.

They had eaten snails beforehand.  One had been left on the floor of the barge.  Tyrion had tripped on it, driving the dagger into the floor of the barge.  Later the master shipwright had said it was a one in a million chance that his dagger, driving between two planks had first flooded and then broken apart the barge. Arya had brought his limp body up from the three foot depths of the lake.  It had taken the Maesters an hour to revive him.

Arya had been most profoundly pleased to finally return the favor of saving Tyrion from death after the many, many times that Tyrion had saved her from certain death.  Really, it had become too many times to count.

Missandei closed the book. 

The sacrifices this valiant man made for the realm!

It was then that she saw them.  It was the Terminator Candice and her human, Shireen.  Missandei reopened Tyrion’s book and hunched down so only her eyes were visible above the book.  They were walking down the road on the far side near the tables and chairs of the various bistros and eateries.

She noticed quickly that Shireen had clasped Candice’s hand and interlaced their fingers.  Candice was staring down at their clasped hands with a dazed look.  She only had eyes for the clasped hands.  Shireen chose a table directly across from Missandei.  Cursing, Missandei hunched down even more.  She knew the Terminator saw everything with its cyborg eyes.

Within a minute Missandei felt safer, but still kept hunched down nevertheless.  Shireen was constantly touching and speaking directly to the cyborg, never breaking eye contact.  Suddenly, Missandei understood what she was seeing.

She had looked up Shireen’s records.  It was not hard, with that birthmark. 

The seventeen year old was seducing the cyborg.  She had a criminal record for prostitution.  She felt for the girl, having to survive through selling her body to odious, smelly men.  Her fortunes had definitely reversed.  Shireen with her sad profession was in tune with her body.  She was clearly getting the cyborg addicted to her gentle, loving touch.  The cyborg seemed stunned, almost.  She looked with total focus on all that Shireen did, and literally shivered with her every touch. 

A street vendor of flowers in the proverbial pushcart on overlarge wheels came down the road.  The petite white girl stopped the vendor.  She purchased a deep red rose.  She gave the man a big tip, and he smiled genuinely.  Missandei could see the girl had a good heart.

The girl moved over to Candice and put the rose over her right ear, showing she was available.  Candice had been drinking water from the look of it, in a twelve ounce glass in her left hand.  Shireen leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

The glass shattered into countless small shards.  Water splashed all over Candice, who did not even seem to notice.  Shireen got up and dabbed up the water on the woman’s blouse.  She was not wearing a bra, and the wet material showed her ample cleavage and now rock hard long, thick nipples.  Candice’s head was jerking around, and she seemed to be having a small seizure. 

Shireen stroked and cooed to the agitated Terminator, as the Crime Lords called her and Cameron.  They got up with the teenager leading the dazed woman.  Shireen was distracted leaving a tip, and did not see till it was too late.  Candice walked headfirst into a light pole that had one light shade at the top of the pole and four arms equal distance apart with lift fixtures on the arms.  She was unfazed by the hard impact. 

No one had noticed.

Shireen ran up and guided the dazed, beautiful black woman away, who was limpid in Shireen’s clasp of her hand.  She knew that soon Shireen would be claiming Candice as her woman and lover.

It was inevitable. 

Missandei felt fire run through her.  She would lead first Dany to her bed, and then Arya.  She would stroke their bodies and coo to them and slowly make them fall madly in love with her, too.  She would show them her hot body.  She knew they would devour her with first their eyes and then their mouths. 

It was inevitable.

She looked at her watch.  She needed to hurry. 

She ran across the street.  Sure enough, at the spot were Candice’s forehead had hit the iron pole, it was indented an inch.  She was sure that Candice would put in subroutines to control her strength when she and Shireen started to do the ‘nasty’.

She ran back to their apartment.  Dany had been there only for a few minutes, and Arya had already gone off to meet with an associate to arrange for gun range time for Dany and Missandei.  Arya still had hope that eventually her lessons would take hold with Missandei.  She and Dany were sure the person Arya was going to meet was the Ghostmaker.  They had agreed to act surprised when Arya introduced them to the man from Yi Ti.

They had a quick lunch, and then left the apartment and went to the alleyway, then climbed the steps up to the next level of the warren.  Their destination - the main shopping district for this area of the warrens. 

They came out the other side on to the main thoroughfare. Here the street was wide, with trees on one side standing in a row of mulched dirt.  They casually looked at the restaurants, but had other things on their mind as they moved down the road. They walked down several hundred yards till they came to Boxers, Briefs, Thongs and Ooh-La-La, a boutique for fine nightwear.  The building was painted bright pink.  The owners were gay, and proud of it.

They entered the gaily colored building.  It was brightly lit with wide aisles that had display cases with racks of nicely hung and displayed nightwear.  Arya was definitely in need of serious intervention.  Her plain, boring, utilitarian white panties and bras were simply hideous to behold.  That had to change.  Now!

Missandei was already drooling with thoughts of seeing Arya in the bras and panties they were buying.  Better yes, taking them off of her hot body so she and Dany could devour her cute double bottle cap nipples and plump camel toe.  She looked at Dany as she held up some bras, appraising them.  Soon she would have her dragon.  Then, together, they would take the Direwolf as their own.  She would have both, and no others would ever touch them.  They would belong to her only!  They merely did not know it yet.

They bought plenty of Joe Boxer women's boy short panties in gay colors. Gods, she loved how they showed a woman’s camel toe!  They bought a few lacy ones, and a few seamless ones too.  Dany bought five hipster Joe Boxers.  Then they bought some bras.  They got some racier back sports bras, and seamless bras sized for Arya’s small A cup breasts.  They got some baby doll tops with cute graphics on them.  She liked the Mickey Mouse one she bought.

Then they moved over to the more intimate area of the store.  Arya had given them both accounts with over twenty thousand Iron crowns in them.  Missandei had hacked some Oligarch accounts and siphoned off funds from twenty-five accounts to create a new account under Dany’s Westeros alias in the Highgarden banks.  Dany now had the seventy-five thousand crowns she had lost returned to her. 

Missandei knew she was worth every crown, and then some.

They had been to this store over five times, buying themselves the nice undies and nighties they liked to wear.  Missandei had been holding back, but that was now over.  Now was the time. She would start using her body to seduce her women into her bed.

They bought some thongs for Arya (even though she’d likely toss them away and complain about ‘butt floss’), and then went to look at nighties.  They got her a Chantilly Lace Plunge Teddy, with cuts up high on the hips.  The deep V-cut would expose most of Arya’s bottle cap nipples.  Missandei felt her pussy spasm and get moist at the thought of seeing Arya in it.

Dany insisted they get her some colorful, simple, pull-over nighties as well. 

That was not part of her plan!

They purchased a flora chiffon camisole, a Tabitha satin teddy playsuit and a Valerie satin chemise.  Missandei shivered, feeling herself pushing those straps off Arya’s shoulder and imagining the sheer fabric falling to the floor. Then seeing herself and Dany falling on their sweet Arya and fucking her blind afterward.

Dany broke their silence, and she came back to the here and now.  She needed to first bring Dany into her bed.  She would make Dany hers, and bind their souls into one. 

Then, they would reverse history and bring Arya into their union.  In the past it had been herself that had been added as the third head - now Arya would become the third head of the reconstituted House Targaryen.

They made their purchases and hurried home. They got into their home (that was how Missandei thought of that place now), and pulled out all their purchases as they excitedly talked and gesticulated.

They had planned to surprise Arya some night with their purchases.  Then they heard the door being opened.

Missandei smiled.  Change of plans!

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

You Bought What!


Dany saw Arya coming into the apartment and spotting the bags with the boutique logo on them.  Dany was not sure what to do getting caught red handed.  She looked over at Andi and she saw the light of determination lighting.

“You all bought yourself more lingerie?” Arya asked with a smirk.  She obviously did not understand that a woman should feel nice underneath her clothes.  To feel sexy and desirable.

Andi spoke up with her chin raised “We bought all this for you Arya!” Andi spoke in a challenging tone. 

Dany found it humorous seeing that Arya looked first shocked and then defiant.  “You bought what!  Oh helllll no!”

“But Arya your undies are horrid!  They’re something my grandmother—no, my great grandmother would wear!”

“I like my underwear.  It gets the job done.  And what are you doing look in my drawers anyway!”

“I’m a woman!  I have the right!  Those ugly pieces of last century you wear are out of here!”

“Like hell they are!”

Dany watched for the next five minutes as her best friend argued with the assassin. Dany thought it funny that her friend who was beyond lightweight was so strongly challenging an obvious trained killer.  Missandei felt no fear.

Dany joined in and told Arya calmly that Arya needed to loosen up and relax.  There was nothing wrong in enjoying your body.

Arya blushed mightily after that.  Dany thought to herself that the woman had lived chaste for too long.  She doubted her departed wife would want her passionate wife to be celibate for the rest of her life.  She saw Arya considering her words.

Missandei seeing the chink in the armor now used what always seemed to work on Arya.  “Please wear them Arya.  For me, for Dany … what can it hurt?  Enjoy life at least a little.  Pleassseeeee!”

Dany smirked seeing Arya working it through with her face showing her lessening resistance, capitulation and then acceptance.

“Well I guess I could …”

Missandei went tearing off to the chest of drawers removing the plain, boring tidie whities. 

“Missandeeiiiiii!” Arya whined.  The battle had been won.


It had been a week ago since Arya’s capitulation.  Arya would go in the bathing area to change in the past after they went to bed and then always have on XXL night shirts covering everything up. 

Missandei had been after Arya to stop being a prude.  It seemed to be working now.  Now Arya walked around in her Joe boxer panties and bras.  Once she loosened up she was quite comfortable around them.

Dany had been shocked at how hot Arya’s body was.  She was sure that Andi had the same feeling the way she saw her bestie staring at Arya.  She was really staring.  The words of the Ghostmaker came back to her. 


But then maybe she was.  Dany just didn’t know.  She had found herself thinking more and more what the man from Yi Ti had told them.  She had been shocked by his revelations and hid it with humor. 

Now she found herself turning it over and over in her mind.  In a past life she had married both Andi and Arya.  It had been good.  She could feel it in her bones.  She could not help but look at Andi with a different light.  She looked at Arya differently but it was Andi that was capturing her attention. 

They were such good friends.  Could it be more?  She did not see how.  They were straight.  The past could not repeat itself that much.  Could it?

Daenerys was excited.  Arya had arranged for them to go to a shooting range and dojo tomorrow.  She had been waiting for a Chen Shih-chieh to come back from a business trip.  She would introduce them tomorrow.  Little did Arya know they had already met the man.  She and Andi were ready to act like they had never met Shih-chieh.

They were eating a nice meal of baked chicken and sliced potatoes done in a skillet with green beans.  She loved how she and Missandei worked so well in the kitchen.  They seemed to know each other’s moves and thoughts when in the kitchen.  Dany stopped and thought.  Anywhere really when she really thought about.

Missandei cleared her throat and getting her and Arya’s attention.

“I have something I need to tell you two” her tone was serious.

She had their attention.  Arya had that wary totally alert manner firmly in place.

“I’m gay.”  Missandei calmly spoke the words and looked at Dany gnawing her lower lip and a look of fear on her face.  Andi had to be wondering how she would take it.

Daenerys saw Arya relax but remained focused on Andi and looking at her appraising her reactions.

“I. I. I--Wow Missandei this came out of nowhere.”

“No it didn’t Dany.  I have always been gay and I am tired of hiding it.”

She turned to look at Arya “Did you know?”

Arya turned to look at Dany and cocked an eyebrow.  “You know looking back … I guess I now see the clues … the way she never mentioned any guys and went on about this woman character or that on TV … but no, my gaydar did not ping with An—Missandei.  To be truthful I was not looking for it so I didn’t see it I guess.”  She turned to give Daenerys her full attention.  “Is that a problem … us being gay?”

“No no it is not.  Of course not.  I could care less …” a thought hit Dany.  She turned to Andi “You do know that I am not that way … I mean in the past we may have been wives but … I’m straight Andi.”

Andi smiled back at her.  “I know that Dany.  You are my bestie girl.  Plus, in the past you were five years older than me and then I had to wait eleven years for you to take me as your wife.  I ain’t waiting no eleven years!  Don’t worry that pretty white haired head of yours Dany.  I feel no attraction for you at all like you feel none for me.”  Missandei laughed and slapped Arya’s arm in comradery. 

With her eyes distracted she did not see the stricken look come over Dany’s face.  No attraction at all?  She should feel elated but why did her heart ache and her stomach suddenly feel queasy.  It must be all these blasted portents everyone was throwing around!

Andi was laughing and suddenly Dany felt sullen.  She grit the teeth and chastised herself.  Her friend had come out to her and she was acting like an ass.  She took a deep breath and determined to be happy for her friend.

The rest of the night was uneventful.  She was definitely excited to be shooting for the first time and to practice in a real Dojo.  Arya had told her that masters in Kung Fu, Jiu Jitzu and Krav Maga would be there.  She was stoked.  Andi whined again she was lover not a fighter. The image of Andi’s loose curls between her legs flashed through Dany’s mind. 

She took an angry breath.  All this change was discombobulating her.  Dany would work on her wayward thoughts.  She tried thinking of her two best clients Khal Drogo and Daario Naharis and fucking them.  Dany felt ill again.  She had enjoyed the physical act (at times – so much of it had been fake) but the feeling of their bodies touching her after sex had always left her feeling cold.  So unlike how she felt when Andi was draped all over her in morning. 

Dany froze.  No.  That was not it.  She just felt nothing for those men. They were her work and nothing else.  Andi was her friend and she could enjoy that close intimate contact.  Yes.  That was it.

It was soon time for bed.  They both liked to sleep in the nude and now Dany wondered how she felt about it.  They had been sleeping on their sides of the bed and sometime during the night they would find each other and twined legs and arms and Missandei or herself would tuck their head underneath the other’s chin or use a shoulder as a pillow.

Dany had noticed that Missandei would toss and turn till she went to sleep.  She could not find sleep herself until Missandei found the Morpheus’s sweet embrace.  They got in bed.

Arya was still on a computer in the “command center” surfing and listening to music.  She felt a little awkward and she could tell Missandei did too as they took off their night shirts and shucked their panties off.  Dany felt her belly clench seeing again just how beautiful Andi was.  Her breast were high, firm and full. They were rounded like her own breast just more of it.  Dany was a little jealous of Missandei’s full bosom and the alluring up tilt to the slope of her breast.

She had seen Andi eying her own body.  Now she knew the woman had been appraising her body too.  A stab of jealous shot through Dany realizing her best friend did not desire her.  She took deep breath.  She did not desire Andi.  Not really.  She was just so beautiful.

They got in bed and turned out the light.  The glow from Arya on the computer filled the bed area with an ethereal glow.

After Andi tossed and turned a few times.  “Dany?”

“Yes Andi?”

“Okay.  You know I am a lesbian now … can you still sleep with me in the same bed?” the fear in her voice made Dany’s heart clutch.

“Yes, of course I can Andi.  I am not a bigot.  You are who you are.  You are such a lovely woman Andi.  You will make some woman so happy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so!”

She heard Andi giggle.  “I can’t wait to find her!  I will love her so well.  I will be so good to her and I just know my passion will make her scream!  Will you help me start dating Dany?  I am soooo green” Andi whined.

Again Daenerys felt a knife slam into her heart and twist.  She lied.  “I would be happy to help you find a girl.  We will find you a woman worthy of you girl!”  Dany felt her soul ache.  She had to get a grip!

“Just make sure she is as nice and beautiful as you Dany!” Andi joked.

Dany could not answer.  What had come over her?  The first thought that had raced through her mind was “Why not me!”  She sighed.  She had missed her chance.  The girl had moved beyond her anyways.


“Yes Andi?”

“Can we snuggle.  I … I want you to spoon with me.  I have always wanted to feel a woman’s body pressed into mine when I go to sleep … I know that is awful lot of me to ask with you being straight and everything … say no if you want.”

“I would like that Missandei.  I have never liked sleeping with a man’s body touching me.  They are so hard and hairy!” she gagged out.

Andi giggled so cutely and Dany felt her belly clench and her nipples throb.  Gods Andi was so fucking cute!

They got on their side and Andi slowly wiggled back.  Dany had to suppress a moan feeling Andi’s back press into her breast and her ass into her pussy.  Gods this felt so right!  Missandei melded her body into Dany’s their legs instinctively bending into a perfect fit.  Dany nearly swooned with how good it felt.

“Thank you Dany.  You feel real good pressed into me.  Are you alright with this?” she asked in a little voice.

Dany had to control her breathing.  She had the sudden urge to roll Andi over and kiss her deeply and shove the thought of any other woman out of Andi’s mind.  I want her!  But she remembered again that Andi did not see her that way.  She felt a sadness wash over her.

“I am fine Andi.”  Dany smiled because it was fine.  She put her hand on Andi’s hip.  She felt her breath catch when her black friend clasped her pale hand and brought Dany’s hand over her body and clasped Dany’s hand to her heart between her breasts and held tight.  Dany felt Andi’s warm full breast pressed into their clasped hands.

Andi sighed.  She did truly enjoy the full body contact.  There was no toss and turning as Dany felt Andi totally relax and pressed hard back into her white friend’s body.  By the glow of the soft light Dany marveled at the contrast of their bodies.  Gods Missandei was beautiful.  Her black body was perfection.  She suddenly understood that Arya was beautiful too.  Seeing her in those Joe Boxers was a revelation.  She was surrounded by perfection!

She felt Andi sigh and hum going to sleep.  The vibrations heavenly.  Why had she ignored what was right in front of her?

Dany pressed her face into Andi’s frizzy curls.  Andi’s hair on her face felt divine and she moaned softly.  She froze.  Had Andi heard her?  She is not attracted to me she thought sadly.  She could not help herself pressing her face deeper into Andi hair.  She smelled aloe, oranges and something that was pure Andi.  She had not felt Andi react.  She brushed Andi’s hair over her face again.  She could not stop herself from moaning again.  Andi was asleep.  She was safe as she felt her nipples harden and pressed into Andi’s back.  Gods she wanted her best friend.  She wanted her bad.

In the dark she could not see the knowing smile on Andi’s face.  Her plan was working to perfection.


Dany woke the next morning with herself draped over Andi her leg and arm thrown over Andi and her head on a full comfy breast.  She lifted her head and looked at Andi’s beautiful face and full lips.  Her pussy quivered and her nipples hardened.  Gods she wanted to kiss those lips so bad.

She sat up.  She needed to get away from temptation.  She looked down at her best friend and felt desire course through her veins.  Stop this now! Dany commanded herself.  She needed to get laid bad.  She again tried imagining Drogo or Daario but felt that familiar ill feeling.  Maybe it was because they were clients.  There were dating aps or bars but she just couldn’t get into that.

She shook her head and got up and showered.  She had slept in and was feeling refreshed and very horny.  She smirked under the water.  She was soon jilling off.  They all were taking extra-long showers.  She had the wash cloth in her mouth when she rubbed and finger fucked her pussy to two stunning orgasms.  Whew!  The pressure cooker had been turned down to simmer.

As she pulled back the shower curtain Andi came in the bathroom area bleary eyed and mumbling.  Her sweetie was not a morning person.  Dany never even caught the endearment. 

She left to let Andi try and wake up and join the land of the living.  She went to the dresser and put on a pair of lacy white bra and panties that set off her hair.  She combed her locks out making them glow.  She wanted to impress.

She went to Command Central and checked the feeds and forums for any info from overnight on the government, agencies and crime lords they were watching over for news and trends. 

She looked toward the kitchen and made eye contact with Arya who shyly smiled back.  Gods she has beautiful Dany thought.  Arya’s steel grey eyes were bright and intense she observed yet again.  Arya was leaned back in the chair in front of the little nook that had a small table built into the wall.  She had ear buds in listening to music and reading off her tablet.  She had on tight panties that showed off her hips and flat belly.  They had bought her more panties and bras when they saw the war had been won.

The panties said “paradise below” with an arrow pointing to said paradise.  She had on a tight pull over sports bra that had an elastic band that pulled it tight to her chest just below her bulb nipples.  Dany had found them cute the first time she saw them on Arya.  Dany remembered how her eyes had bulged seeing Arya get out the shower and the cold air making Arya’s nipples fully erect.  They were huge with the areolas like bursting plums resting on the barest there breast.  They were beautiful. 

Arya had been tense till she saw that her roommates were unfazed by their uniqueness.  With her new underwear she was almost showing them off.  The two hillocks jutting up from the bra were doing strange things to Dany.  She wanted to rub them and then suck on them hard rolling her tongue over the juicy plums.  She wanted to make them jut up nearly two inches tenting her bra.  She shook her head.  She smiled then hearing loud squeaks and moans from behind the shower curtain.  Andi could only be so quiet with her masturbation.

They had agreed by silent decree to ignore the smell of pussy from their constant jilling off.  They had needs that had to be taken care of or their heads would have exploded.

The shower stopped after twenty more minutes.  Dany went in the kitchen and poured out three big bowls of cereal and milk.  She cut in bananas for Arya and cut up strawberries and scooped in blue and black berries for her and Andi.  She poured in the milk and then took the three bowls to the circular table in front of the big TV.

When together in the morning they liked to eat around the low table and talk and laugh.

Andi came out in a t-shirt that was cutoff just below her breast that said “Not Photoshop”.  Her full breast swaying.  She had on a pair of tight bright blue panties that hugged her big camel toe that had Dany’s belly aching.  She could not stop staring. Seeing the crease of Andi’s slit in the tight fabric enfolding her pussy was doing strange things to Dany’s libido. 

I. Need. To. Get. Laid. Dany thought. She was surrounded by beautiful women and it was affecting her.  She was straight.  She just needed to find the right guy was all.  She was supposed to follow the boring het path like all the other stupid girls.  She knew she was supposed to moon and sigh over all the hot hunks.  She had been sleeping with boys and men since middle school looking for the magic she read in books and saw on TV and on the Internet. 

She needed to find her prince charming.  Unfortunately, they were all toads.  She sighed and concentrated on going to shoot and fight!


They had taken the subway to the North quadrant of Oldtown that was in the more hilly area.  Dany had her hair in her beanie.  Since they were going to a safe zone the wig was eschewed.  They had walked down the main thoroughfare for three city blocks and turned into a consignment store specializing in items from the “Exotic Land of Yi Ti”.

Arya led them in and they were greeted by a pleasant young man who showed them around the store showing off apparel, jewelry and furniture from his home land.  He was polite and courteous.  He led them to the back of the store and through a small partially hidden door behind a screen of storks in a race paddy.    

They then went down a long corridor that was well lit but cold.  The air outside was cold and Arya explained it was being pumped in.  Missandei asked why and Arya told her charges it was to remove the fumes from the gun range they were going to.  There were large industrial heaters hanging from the ceiling to take the sting from the cold.

They entered a door and came into a large room where a group of men and women were inspecting their combat rifles.

Dany saw Andi getting nervous and went over and hugged the girl.  To her surprise Arya was right there too.

“Andi.  These men are with Chen Shih-chieh.  You are totally safe.  I will stay by you if you want Andi” Arya glanced at Dany “and Dany will too.”

Andi relaxed.  “Thank you.  Guns make me nervous.”

“Hopefully, we can help you get over that.  Even wonks should be a badass with a gun!  It is sexy.  Right Dany?”

“Hell yeah it is!”

Dany smiled at Andi perking up eyeing her and Arya.  Arya could be so sweet when she wanted to be.  It touched Dany’s heart seeing Arya being so solicitous. 

It was then that Chen Shih-Chieh walked into the staging area.  He was dressed in tight fitting jeans and a bolo shirt and tie with a turquoise choker.  He was very fit and exuded fitness and power.  His close cropped hair had a few streaks of grey in.  He was drop dead handsome.  Dany appraised him.  She searched herself and felt nothing for the man.  She looked at Andi and felt her pulse quicken.

Dany was afraid with what her body was telling her.  She was awakening to truths she had never even guessed.

He came over to Arya and hugged her gently which Arya returned in a cute awkward manner.

“I see you finally brought your future wives to see me.  What are their names?”  The man looked over at her and Andi over Arya’s head and winked.

Dany chuckled and saw that Andi had a big smile on her face.  Arya’s face had turned beet red.

“Shih-Chieh!  They are not my wives.  They are my charges only.  Tell them Dany!  Andi!”

Andi spoke up with what Dany was coming to recognize as an impish nature.  “Arya!” Andi said scandalized.  “How dare you!  You took my virginity last week and promised me I would be your bride and marry me next week!”  She gasped “Did you lie to me” Andi spoke in a quivering voice a tear running down her cheek.

Hell, if Dany did not know the truth she would have believed her.

“Arya!” the Ghostmaker bellowed at Arya.

Arya was sputtering and looked lost staring at Andi not able to get a word out that was not garbled in a shocked voice.

Andi then laughed as Arya was clearly losing it.  “No Shih-Chieh we are just her charges. She saved our lives and took us under wing.  We owe her our very lives.”

The man introduced himself to Dany and Andi with all acting as if they were meeting for the first time.  He was charming and debonair with a smidgen of flair that made him appealing.  It just did not touch Dany or Andi on the physical level.

Arya was slowly recovering from her discomfiture.  She glared at Andi but when Andi stuck her tongue out at Arya the assassin laughed.  She threw up her hands in surrender.  Andi had Arya eating out of her hand.  Dany realized she was enthralled by Andi too.  Andi was so beautiful, funny and intelligent.  Who could resist her?  Dany felt another stab of jealousy thinking that Andi wanted to give herself to someone else.  Why wasn’t she good enough!

The Ghostmaker went over the rules of the shooting range.  Gun safety and etiquette. Arya reinforced the rules on how make sure the gun was always pointed down range and to obey the range master.  To be courteous to everyone.

They went into the range itself and the women pulled their sweaters and light jackets tighter.  Shih-Chieh and Arya showed her and Andi how to shoot the Glocks and Colt 45s provided.  Arya was partial to Glocks and the Ghostmaker went on and on about the virtues of the Colt 45.  It had not changed in over one hundred years because it was perfection. 

Arya and Ghostmaker both shot a clip of 9mm into the targets.  They punched out the X in the center of the ten ring.  They explained how to shoot with both hands and how to lock their hands on the grip of the gun. Shoot with both eyes open and look through the rear sight and see the target through the front sight.  Breathe in steady breaths and shot between breaths. 

Dany thought it seemed simple enough.  She stepped up to the firing line with the Ghostmaker behind her and Arya behind Andi.  Andi was having a lot of trouble remembering all the steps and was whining.  Arya continued to sooth her.

They both fired for the first time.  Dany hit the 9 ring.  Missandei did not hit the paper.  Worse she squealed and dropped the Glock.  “Annddiiiiiiii!” Arya whined.  “You dropped my gun!”  She snatched the gun looking it all over. 

“Arya.  It is a Glock.  They are made to be abused” Shih-chieh chided Arya.

Arya glared at him.

“That is compliment Arya.  They are indestructible.” He glared at Arya and motioned his head at Andi.  Arya turned and saw her student with watery eyes and a trembling lip.

Dany smiled again seeing Arya suddenly control her emotions and was very gentle with Andi after that gently consoling and encouraging her.  Dany smiled until she felt a stab of jealousy when Arya was standing behind Andi her arms around Andi helping her to aim and encouraging her.  She whispered in Andi’s ear coaching her.

Dany’s body throbbed with hot jealousy seeing Andi in another woman’s arms.  She wanted those arms to be hers!  She was attracted to Arya but her attraction for Andi was burning in her veins and it was bringing out her green eyed monster.

Andi dropped the gun again but this time Arya took it in stride.  Andi beamed. 

Ghostmaker hummed at Dany’s shooting prowess.  All her shots were in first the 9 ring and now the 10 ring.

“Have you shot before?”

“No.  What am I doing wrong?”

“Daenerys Taragaryen.  I have told you that you were a warrior Queen who took both of your companions to wife.  Do not fight your destiny.  You are to be warrior again.  One wife will be your fellow warrior while the other will decipher your enemy’s moves and plans and put you and Arya in place to defeat your enemies.  Take what is your destiny.  I see your eyes on Andi.  Take her.  She longs for your touch.

Dany stared at him.  She heard his words.  “What about Arya?  Did not I have two wives?”

“If you take Andi—you will take Arya.  It is your destiny.”  He smiled.  “The order will be reversed and much quicker this time.”

“I don’t know Shih-Chieh.  I have always thought of myself as straight.”

“Have you?  Have you really?” the man from Yi-Ti locked eyes with her.

It was broken by Andi.  She was jumping down and Arya reached forward and grabbed her hand making sure Andi kept the gun pointing down range.  “I hit the Black!  I hit the Black!  Dany I hit the Black!  Look!  See the hole!” she squealed in elation.

Dany felt a big smile on her face.  Andi was so filled with enthusiasm.  She looked back at the Ghostmaker.  “I don’t know Shih-Chieh.  I have always seen myself as straight.”

“Have you ever felt fulfilled or satisfied with any of your male lovers?”

“I think you know the answer to that.  I just have not met the right man yet.”

He looked at her with those steady dark eyes.  “As you say” he slightly bowed his head.

They shot for another half hour.  Dany was knocking out the ten ring with a few X hits.  Missandei was squealing just hitting the black.  She was definitely as happy as Dany knocking out the smallest ring.  She had to smile at her best friend.

Arya came over and gaped at Dany’s targets.  “Where and when have you shot before!” she demanded.  “There aint’ no way you shot this good never having used a gun before!  No fucking way!  I wasn’t nowhere that good.”

“What can is say Arya?  I got skills.”

Arya’s eyes bulged at the use of her pet phrase of Dany’s skills.

She eyed Dany suspiciously.

They went to the dojo. 

It was a large room lined with cushioned mats on the walls.  The floor had a cushioned mat covering the whole floor.  Daenerys saw punching bags and dummies.  The punching mitts.  They removed their shoes and socks and stepped onto the mats.  They removed their jackets and sweaters and were down to their sports bras.

They were met by Shih-Chieh in a traditional black Kung Fu uniform with white frog buttons.  They were introduced to Alysella Daeraellis from Lyse.  She was fifth level Kung Fu.  She was a master of the Crane, Tiger and Dragon style.

They met Yennazzi of the Dothraki.  He was a master of Jujutsu.  The close in art form to disarm and take out your opponent.  He was forty-two and a twenty year master.  He was six feet six inches and had scowl on his face.  Dany saw out of the corner of her eye him smiling at the Ghostmaker but put the scowl back on when Andi looked at him.

Last was Gordar Tyrell a master of Krav Maga.  He was a cousin thirty-two times removed from the scions of Highgarden.  He had tried to crash the last family get together but had been kindly escorted out.  Dany was not sure if he was joking or not.

The masters slowly formed a circle around them.  They stepped forward and went through basic moves with the three woman.  Dany was sure that Arya was proficient in at least the basics of each fighting style but was in the ring to support her friends she told the masters.  Dany smiled at that and Andi was beaming.  Arya was definitely thawing. 

With Arya’s thawing in her manners and disposition towards her and Andi Dany wondered if Arya too was thawing in her resistance to what everyone were constantly telling them.  She felt her stubborn nature fighting everyone’s word and pronouncements.  She was sure she was straight.  She had always admired women who succeed against man’s world and she had always admired the female form but she had only desired men.

She scowled.  Had she really desired them or just thought that was what she was supposed to do.  Find the perfect man to support and care for her.  She had always rejected that picture of femininity.  She would make her own way.  She wanted a partner that saw her as an equal.  She looked at Andi.  That was one person who saw her as an equal. 

She looked at Arya.  Now that she was letting her guard down she felt Arya was seeing her as an equal.

The instructors were nice and very gentle in their instruction.  She found that Yennazzi was actually gentle and had a sly sense of humor.  The instructors told them that they thought they both had potential.  Andi gnawed her lip.  Yennazzi told Andi “You are a strong filly.  I will make you into a Stallion Who Mounts the World.”  He leaned his head towards Dany.  “Like your Khaleesi.  She will mount both you and Arya and make you her bitches!” 

Arya rolled her eyes and Andi looked at Dany licking her lips.  Dany felt her pussy spasm and her nipples throb.  Only a Dothraki could say something that should be insulting and make it almost into a declaration of love.  She shook her head.  Andi was still staring at her with apprising eyes.  She shook her head.  Dany felt like she had lost something when Andi’s gaze passed from her.  She wanted it back Dany realized.

It was announced that they would train with all the masters but would specialize in whatever style they were most adept at.

Then the masters guided Dany and Andi off the mat.  The Ghostmaker and Arya stood six feet apart. 

Andi gripped Dany’s arm in her excitement.  Alysella Daeraellis informed them that Shih-chieh was a fifth level Kung Master in the five traditional animal styles. 

Yennazzi informed them that Arya was a true master herself in Jujitzu.  He felt she should form her own ryu and form her own school. 

In a blink of an eye the Ghostmaker exploded forward from a standing position.  His foot shot out in a straight kick but Arya dodged at the last moment and stepped in.  She was in on the Ghostmaker and grabbed his uniform and tried to flip him over her hip but he rolled over her hip and slashing at her face. She grabbed his elbow and tried to wrench it down and back but his knee came up and she blocked with her knee.

For the next five minutes they fought to a basic stand style.  Shih-Chieh landed some hard blows but Arya recovered and moved in close to negate his reach, speed and power.  She did flip him once onto his back and kicked him in the ribs before he twisted away and was up.  They fought on till by silent mutual consent the bowed to each signaling the end of the sparring session.

They bowed again deeper and then warrior clasped.

“I look forward to seeing you all in two days on this mat.  Rest and contemplate what you did today.”  He left them without a backward glance.  Dany was impressed with the man.

They showered and Dany was almost mesmerized by the wet bodies of her friends.   Their bodies gleamed in the water.  She saw that they had swollen nipples and their cunnies were swollen and inner lips on display.  They were still excited by the fight.  She wondered if they felt the desire for her body like she felt it for them.  Arya was hot looking but Andi was black sleek perfection.

They dried and put their clothes back on.  Their clothes had somehow been washed and dried.  Well, Yi Ti was famous for their laundry establishments.

Shih-chieh appeared from the shadows.  “I am most impressed with your skills.  I have a small eating establishment at the rear of this building.  Only close associates, allies, and people in my closest sphere of influence eat here.  It is a great honor to eat at the “Golden Lotus”.  Will you join me?  You can eat with your head uncovered Dany.”

“Lets celebrate our success!”  Andi crowed. 

“That is the spirit Andi.”  Dany noticed Arya had stopped pretending to use their full names. She really was thawing towards them.  It made her feel warm inside.  “You were a Caracal out there you wild cat!”

Andi preened strutting and doing a stiff dance of some sort.  Her breast swished to and fro.  Dany could not help but stare.  She saw the Ghostmaker looking at her with a knowing smile.  Arya was smirking.

That straightened her back and stiffened her resolve.  She was straight and Andi was gay that was all.  She was comfortable with that.

They walked up two levels and down several long dimly corridors and came out into an elegant restaurant done in the style of old Yi Ti.

It was understated elegance.  They were seated and the staff was most accommodating.

Twenty minutes later Dany was seething at the same staff.  Or should she say one waitress in particular.  She was most attentive.  Yes she was.  Her focus was only for Andi.  Two other waitresses appeared to wait on her and Arya.  The Ghostmaker simply smiled at her.  His smile saying “you are straight right?”

Damn right she was!

The damn hussy was flirting with Andi and she was lapping it up!  How dare her!

They ate their grilled rice with chopped in egg, steak, chicken and vegetables.  It was delicious and she wanted to take a handful of the food and cram it in the fucking tart’s mouth!  She was leaning forward showing Andi her breast!  Did the woman have no fucking shame!

This was not about her being straight or not!  The woman simply had no couth!  She was a fucking whore trying to leech on her Andi!

The woman bent down and whispered in Andi’s ear and her eyes went large.

The woman went back to the kitchen.

“Dany! Dany! She wants to see me tonight!  What do I do?  Wow!  I’m so excited.  She is so fucking hot!” Andi paused.  “I’m not sure I am ready for this.  I wonder what I should do.  Dany?”

Dany had been about to get ill.  Thank the gods Andi was not jumping all over the harlot.  That slut was not worthy of her sweet Andi’s affections!

“I was hoping we could watch TV tonight and play Halo 3.”

Andi thought about it.  Dany was fearful she might decide to go out with the fucking slut.

It was time to bring out the big guns. “I was really hoping we could start to binge watch Doctor Who from season one.”

Andi’s eyes went dreamy.  “Season one? We could watch the whole series through as we get time?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes.  Arya will watch it with us and see what she has been missing.”

Arya’s eyes went as big as saucers and her mouth dropped open.  Dany could see she was about to argue.

She mouthed “Please” with a desperate look in her eyes.

Andi came out of her dreamy state and turned towards Arya “You want to watch Dr. Who with us?” in a big hopeful tone and large moon gem eyes.  Gods they were beautiful Dany thought.

Arya stared at Andi memorized by the same eyes.  After five seconds in a soft voice “Yes I would Andi, Dany.”

They went to pay their bill and Shih-chieh told them they would always eat free at his establishment.

He and the waitress in question walked them out.  Dany glared at the tart the whole way out.  He smiled seeing Andi hook her arms through her two friend’s arms and soon to be lovers.

“You did well daughter.”

“I would love to have her father.  She is most delectable.”

“She is not meant for such as us.  She is an innocent as are Dany and even Arya.”

His daughter sighed.  “Yes they are.”

“Do you think they will team with the Terminators father?”

“For our sakes I hope they do.  Shireen is taming Candice from what we can gather.  She allows our surveillance from a great distance.”

“So you think Arya will let them into her heart?”

“She already has … it will just take her time to discover that fact … she can be most slow sometimes.”

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Backhanded Views


Missandei settled down to read another chapter out of book by the intrepid oh so brave dwarf Tyrion.  His book had proven to the young mathematician just how valuable he had been to the three Queens.

The next chapter was Highgarden:  Debauchery Among the Thorns.  Missandei shivered in anticipation at the title.

Tyrion had been sent to Highgarden to crush once and for all the vile network of informants that Olenna Redwyne called the “Moths”.  After his visit they would be no more but that was not all of Tyrion’s mission.  He was to work hard to improve diplomatic ties between the Throne and house Tyrell.

He had again put his memories in sections.

Wine Vat:  Towards that end of making better relations between the Throne and House Tyrell Tyrion had made the association of Leona Tyrell.  A most comely lass.  He would bed the lovely wench to help spread his influence in House Tyrell.  She had been most receptive to his amorous overtures.  What woman wasn’t?

She had told him to meet her in the wine cellar that night.  She had a special love nest she liked to “fuck in”.  Her salacious speak had Tyrion instantly enamored of the tart.  He was led down into the cellars by his soon to be lover.  They entered the area where casks of wine were fermenting.  She led him to the end of a big row of large fermenting barrels.  They climbed the scaffolding.  The end vat had its lid off. 

“In there is my little bunny pad for hot rutting.  It is filled with padding and sable furs.  Take a look in it and see.

Tyrion did just that.  As he leaned over the board closest to the vat gave way and he stumbled arms wind milling as he fell in.  The splash was mighty.  Tyrion slowly climbed up to his feet with wine running down his body.  He found the wine was up to his knees.  He glared up at the lass.  She stared down smirking and threw down a gold wine goblet.

“Here you go Tyrion.  Drink and be merry.  If you’re a good dwarf you can drink another sweeter nectar.  My sweet cum is much sweeter than the red wine in which you now bask.” The girl left chortling.

When they found him the next morning he was sitting on his ass slumped against the side of the vat mumbling and drooling.  The wine level was now to his ankles if standing.  He put his cup down filling it and poured the wine on his head while his mouth wondered were all the sweet stuff of dreams had gone.

The Maze:  Two days after his unfortunate stumble he saw his ex-wife Sansa running into the maze on a warm day with Margaery Tyrell.  She had moved into the Tyrell household.  It was high time he discovered why.  All for the realm of course.  The maze was quite confounding.  It took him a half hour to find them.  He had seen a large umbrella go up and he cursed his way through the maze paths till he found his way to beside the path the young women were in.  Fortunately, there was a hole in the maze that allowed him to see easily through to the other side.

His mouth fell down as his cock rose up.  On many quilts in the shade of the umbrella he saw his ex-wife and scion of Highgarden.  They lay on blankets with roses stitched on them as their bodies twitched and writhed.  They were as naked as their name day and rolling around in a hot sweaty sixty-nine.  Their mouths like lampreys feverishly devouring clam shells.  Soon loud wails of ecstasy were swallowed by the thick hedges. 

For the next three hours Tyrion somehow forced himself to sit through all this horrid lesbian debauchery.  In fact he had first gotten up, turned around … and found a much more comfortable sitting position.  The beautiful, he meant ungodly things he had seen.  The intense pussy gobbling and finger banging. The way they sat on each other’s faces or ate pussy from behind. 

He was not really sure how he forced himself to sit through it all.  He really was that dedicated.  Then Margaery had brought the “garden fresh cucumbers” out.  He was not sure he could ever eat one again.  The way the two young nubile women used them to fuck wanton pussies and hungry assholes was truly a blessing—he meant a curse.  He needed to make sure he was seeing correctly how they pulled the cucumbers out their spasming assholes and then bent in to deeply rim and tongue fuck said gaped assholes. 

He pushed his face into the hole of the hedge to make sure his report to the Queens were accurate.  He now knew why they so often took cucumbers to their chambers.  He had thought that strange at the time.

He pulled back almost howling in pain.  The hedges were made of Pyracantha.  He had a hard time explaining all the cuts and scarps that covered his face for the next few days.

It had been worth it.  Both women had at least fifteen orgasms many multiple.  He himself had had to take his massive thick hard charging cock many times in hand to relieve the pressure of his observations.  Probably good fertilizer.

Hen Party:  He had quickly discovered that Sansa and Margaery had secretly married and that they had all of Margaery’s attendants constantly with them.  They had had a second wedding too.  This marriage was of pagan origin where all ten women had wed in an open marriage.  He needed to find the name of this religion.  It must be spread—he meant exterminated.  In a few centuries.

He had heard rumblings of the “next show”.  His expert sleuthing had led him to a door hidden behind a large suit of armor on a pedestal.  He had gone in and was met by an Amazon from the stables.  “Ten gold crowns for floor peep holes or twenty crowns for a ceiling peep hole.”

“I don’t have any money” he puffed out his sizable chest “I am the Queen’s emissary.” 

“No pay.  No play.”

Cursing he ran as fast as he could back to his room down the next hall and got twenty infernal gold crowns.

He paid and went up the narrow staircase.  He saw at least twenty cooks, maids, septs, stable hands, carpenters spread out looking through their peep holes.  Tyrion quickly found one.

He saw two big stable hand girls wheel in a strange contraption.

“What is that?” Tyrion asked in a whisper.

A young lass answered “It is from the land of Yi Ti. It is exotic; they call it ‘technology’.  Those are ‘solar panels’ they are hanging out the window.  The wires lead to those big squares.  They are called ‘lead batteries’.  The things plugged into the batteries are called ‘Magic Wands’ and brother are they.”

He heard another female whisper “Oh yes!  The show is starting!”

Sansa and Margaery were dragged in by their disheveled hair by Alyce Graceford and Megga Tyrell.  They both did not have on a stitch of clothing.  In fact none of the women did.  They cried out in pain and humiliation.  Their quivering crying bodies jerked forward by twisted hair knots in their tormentors fists.  Their bodies stumbled behind Alyce and Megga.  The women jerked hard with their fists.  Sansa and Margaerry were brought cruelly forward all bent over by the down jerks of their masters’ fists in their hair.  They were thrown down to the floor in a heap of weeping legs and arms.  Their distress was so great their nipples were diamond hard, throats flushed pink and their shaved snatches swollen and wet.

They were strung up by chains that were attached to the ceiling by two of the nymphs on step ladders pulled from a closet.  The cuffs were fur lined.  Ankle bars were attached around their ankles and synched up tight with the cuffs again lined with plush fur.  Sansa and Margaery were strung up with arms pulled up high and legs immobilized in place.  The ankle bars hooked to eyelets two of the nymphs had attached to sunken cross bars. 

Then floggers and cattails were produced and the two royal scions were simply royally abused.  They wailed and writhed as red marks appeared from their upper chest, back and down to their feet.  Margaery’s handmaidens whipped their tassels and cattails over white flesh leaving red marks on arms, breast, bellies, backs and legs.   This went on for ten minutes with plenty of hard slapping of faces, tits and ass with cupped palms.

“Yellow Yellow!” Sansa called out.  Her face was red from the hard slaps to it.  Her voice weak from her sheiks of pain and pleasure.  The vile looks remained on all the hens’ faces but they stopped attacking the royal scions.

“Pull the chains up so we are on the balls of our feet only.  We want to feel more desperate.”

Said chains were pulled up and now Margaery and Sansa were on the balls of their feet jerking around as they were mercilessly whipped.  Tyrion had no idea Sansa was so tough!

“Do you confess your sins!” Septa Nystrica bellowed out.

“We are innocent of burying our faces in each other’s pussies and ass clefts.  We have never drank deep again and again from the well spring of each other’s cunts!” Margaery cried out her body twisting as whips and floggers struck her torso front and back.

Sansa was a sobbing mess.  Her body jerking as whips and floggers bit into her flesh.  Having eight inquisitors had its advantages.  Megga Tyrell and Taena Merryweather had gotten in front of Sansa and Margaery in their chains.  They were on their knees with a cat tail.  With one eye closed and tongue out in concentration the hand maidens pulled the cattails back and let their whips snap forward.  Each snap expertly hitting swollen cunt and hanging labia lips bloomed out cum soaked slits.  The screams of pain loud from the royal princesses but also hot grunts and groins of sweet masochistic pleasure.  Tyrion noticed that Sansa and Margaery tilted their pussies up for each strike of the cattail that had them wailing and cum running down their thighs in glistening trickles. 

“Use the Wand of Truth on the heretics!  These fucking depraved sluts are strong in their resistance to loving guidance!” the septa screeched.

The wands were picked up by Alla and Elinor.  They flicked a switch and a loud buzzing was heard.  They smiled beatifically advancing on the chained heretics.  The heretics whimpered all the while jutting their cunts out towards the wands.  Clearly their pussies wanted to confess Tyrion reasoned.

Tyrion wondered what the sound was.

“Force the truth from the sluts.  You will count to ten and then confess!”

The two women rammed the buzzing head of these “wands” into Margaery and Sansa’s couchies.  The women seemed to come apart.  Their bodies jerked wildly ramming their pussies into the wands seeking to confess.

They started to count one, two, three, four … Sansa screamed as she orgasmed hard screaming her body convulsing wildly.  Margaery made it to six before she screamed in orgasm.  What the hell was in those wands!  Tyrion wondered.

Again and again the Septa tried to get the two heretics to confess but failed miserably.  She had Margaery and Sansa slapped, whipped and spit on as the “Magic Wands” tried to make the women confess but only made them orgasm so hard.  The two princess’s screamed as if they were boiled in oil as their pussies tried to tear themselves inside out with their explosive orgasms.  Their pelvises and legs were soaked in cum now.

The Septa judged that more persuasion was need.  “These sluts are strong in their slutty heretical beliefs.  We need more pain!  Bring forth the zippers.”

Lady Alysanne Bulwer and Lady Alyce Graceford squealed getting up and running to one of the large closets.  They reached in and came out each with a large pale with strings hanging out over the lip of the pales.

What the fuck Tyrion thought.

He watched all the hens gather around the two heretics who looked down with glazed eyes.  The hens picked clothes pins out of the pales and attached string to each pin in turn and then clipped them to pale skin.  If not enough flesh, they would pinch up the skin to attach the clothes pins.  They started to run lines down both Margaery and Sansa’s bodies. 

One set of strings ran from each underarm down their ribs and around the outer swell of their breasts down to their hips.  There were at least twenty five pins on each line.  A line ran down from each arm pit to hip on each woman.  Then another line was run down from above their breast and then down the middle of their breast and down to the outer swell of their bellies on that side of their body.  This line mirrored on the other sweaty heaving tit.  The clothes pins pinched onto their sweaty skin on their sweaty heaving bellies.  The lines ran down the middle of their bellies.  Both sluts mewling in pain.  Pain that would morph into searing pleasure.  The two high princesses were drunk on the pleasure the pain being given to the princesses of Highgarden and Stark.

Tyrion watched a fifth and sixth line run down the inside curve of breasts and down the center of Sansa and Margaery’s sweet and cum soaked bellies.  The two inner lines of clothe pins went down the center of their quivering bellies just outside of sweat dripping belly buttons and down over their hips and down their thighs to their knees.

“What the hell are they doing?” Tyrion softly whispered.

“They are putting clothes pins on them.”

Tyrion thumped his forehead on the ceiling softly.

“I know that!  Why are they?”

The girl shivered.  “My girlfriend put zippers on me last night … you’ll see … my gods they are going to cum so fucking hard!”

Tyrion watched intently.  The Septa began ranting again about confessing “their horrid, vile lesbian sins”.   She had the magic wands shoved back hard into swollen drooling cunts.

“Confess!”  The heads of the magic wands were ground into swollen red twats.

Sansa and Margaery were already shaking violently from the evil spirits in their cunts the Septa announced.


“We are innocent!” Sansa weakly gasped.

“We have the right to suck cunt and tongue fuck assholes!” Margaery defiantly croaked out through gritted teeth.

Elinor and Magga stepped in and slapped the liars hard in their lying faces and then spit in their faces.

The wands were turned on high.

Sansa and Margaery began to convulse and scream in orgasm. 

“Rip off the zippers!”

One by one the hens gripped the end of the strings and jerked their arms back ripping the line of clothes pins off in a flash.  Each line of pins ripped from flesh leaving bright red marks.  The two heretics screamed and screamed as pain flooded into their orgasms and made them explode into multiple orgasms.  Their screams deafening as both women now squirted and cum jetted in long arcs out their exploding twats.

They finally passed out as the evil spirits refused to leave their bodies.

Tyrion stared down through his peep hole stunned.  Gods that was so fucking hot.

“Enough!” the Septa roared.  “We need to use our royal scepters to make them confess.  Let the fucking sluts down.”  The royal scions were released and uncuffed.  They lay on the floor a sweaty boneless mess.   They were just now rising back to consciousness with bodies still jolting and spasming with strong aftershocks.

The cover was ripped off the super large circular bed. 

Oh gods!  The eight hens were putting on Strap-on cocks made of leather and filled with sand and balsa wood.  The shortest was nine inches and the longest was eleven inches!

“Fuck!  I have to go the stables damnit!” a young male sighed.  His peep hole was over the large bed.

He got up and carefully walked along the rafters leaving. 

Tyrion saw Meredyth Carne and Taena Merryweather fist a handful of the heretic’s hair and dragged the moaning and crying heretics to the bed. 

Tyrion had to get to that peep hole!  He got up and ran down the rafter.  He tripped in his haste his arms wind milling.  He hit the plaster ceiling hard.

The next moment he was hitting the circular bed covered in plaster chips and dust.  He had long ago stripped naked and was covered in sweat and something else.  The plaster stuck all over his wet body.

“A man! A man!  A horrid man!”

Tyrion looked around.  Who were they talking about?

“Take the whip to the vile male spawn!” Septa Nysterica commanded in a shriek of disgust.

“What?” Tyrion asked.  What was the problem he wondered?  He found out.

“Ouch ouch Aaaaiii Eeeiiii ouch help help … daddy … Eeeeiiiii!” Tyrion wailed as flogger tassels and cattails bit into his body.  He staggered around on the bed trying to get his bearings to flee.  He fell off the bed and ran around in circles his arms waving warding off the implements of pain.  Watching was one thing!—receiving was another!

He heard Margaery call out “Give him one for me!” followed by Sansa “Give him twenty for me—he is a pain slut!”

Damn the womanWas nothing from the marriage bed sacred?!

In his stumbling Tyrion fell into the “iron battery”.  He felt his eyes nearly bulge out his head and his teeth explode from grinding so hard.  His wild jerking knocked off a lead and the pain stopped.

He did what any hero would do when outnumbered so severely.

He ran away.  He stumbled out the chamber and waddled down to his room trailing dust and plaster chips.  Fortunately, no one had been in the hall to see his naked body staggering to his room.

When he got in his room he looked in the mirror.  He was covered in fucking red marks and his hair stood straight out.  (His later research showed that he had been “shocked” by the “lead battery” and his hair was in what is called an Afro).

He was royally pissed.

He heard feet running down the hall.  He stuck his head out the door.  He saw another girl running up the hall towards the chamber and secret passage.

“What is happening?”

“That big hole you put in the ceiling has opened up viewing room.  They just cleaned up the mess you made.  They are charging forty gold crowns for the big open “hole” seats.

Tyrion cursed slamming the door shut.

Five minutes he came back out in fresh clothes still covered in plaster dust, hair in disarray.  He had forty god dragons in his hands.

Moths:  Tyrion had been sleuthing continuously since his arrival in high garden.  He could walk normally again after the severe whipping the hens had given him.  He had discussed matters with the Master Moth that worked for Olenna.  He was a tall drop dead handsome man.

Tyrion had easily put him under his sway with false platitudes that stroked the man’s massive ego.  He had the man eating out of the palm of his hand.  First the man had eaten a huge stack of gold coins out of that palm.  Tyrion had promised him all the young women and men he could fuck if he would but turn double agent.  He could have the best of both words.

What man would not be swayed by gold, hot tight pussies and assholes and promises of a higher station?  He worked for the ultimate power in Westeros and Essos.  Olenna only held sway in Highgarden.  She had to work in the shadows while the three Queens ruled openly.

He would love rubbing Olenna’s face in it.

The man had agreed to meet him one hour after the dinner hour.  He walked down the halls he had now learned to the meeting room that was near their sept.  The man was by the door.  He smiled at Tyrion and looked down the hall both ways opening the door for the dwarf. 

Tyrion went in through the open door.  The man did not.  The door was slammed shut and Tyrion heard the lock being turned.

The room was pitch black.

His eyes bulged but before he could cry out in terror—shout his challenge—a slot was opened up on the wall near the high ceiling.  Light steamed in as four torches were thrown in.  Tyrion was thankful for the light.  For all of ten seconds.

Moths started flying in the opening that went dark with the moths that stormed down to the source of light.  The moths were a swarm!  They kept flying into the room until the very air was thick with them.  More and more moths flew into the room the very air alive with their vibrating wings beating furiously.  Finally, the slot up high was closed.

Tyrion swatted madly at the flitting evil insects.  He flapped his arms madly defending himself.

After an hour the torches burned out.

Two hours later the slot at the top of the room opened again and a bright light shone.  The moths beat their wings toward the light.  In ten minutes the moths were gone.

The door opened and a chortling Olenna stepped in.  His supposed accomplish holding the torch for the old fucking crone.

Tyrion spit out the moth scales, wings, antennas and legs in his mouth.  His skin was covered all over in the fine scales of moth wings and moth parts.  His hair was jerking with the moths trapped in his hair.

“Did you hear the whispers?  Feel the secrets brushing your skin?  Did wings bring you the truth oh Lion of Lannister?”

Tyrion got up off his ass and walked out the door with a dignified gate.  He turned to the old bitch.  He brought his hands up to his face balled up and side by side.  He extended both middle fingers.

“You are not a ten Olenna. You are an eleven!”

He turned and stalked down the hall.  He would have his revenge.  A Lannister always pays his debts!

“I think someone is in debt to widdle ole me!” Olenna sing-song down the hallway after Tyrion.

Tyrion put up his hands and flipped Olenna off as he stomped down the hall.

Cyvasse:  It was the last full day that Tyrion would be spending in Highgarden.  He had suffered setbacks but he would return and he would be victorious.  He had lost a few battles (even a giant on the battlefield at times suffered setbacks) but the war had not been truly joined.  He would return and it would be he rubbing Olenna’s nose in it!

They were in an antechamber near her quarters.  They were sitting at a table with a large Cyvasse board on it.  Tyrion was a legend in the world of Cyvasse tournaments.  He did not defeat his foes.  He crushed them in humiliating defeats.

This would be the opening salvo in the utter humiliation of Olenna Redwyne.  The pieces were ornately carved and bejeweled with gems and gold, silver and copper inlays.  Each piece an exquisite piece of art.  Each piece priceless.

He eyed his twenty-six pieces on the six sided board.  He was white by right of the visitor.  His first move was devastating.  Olenna sat back eyeing the board.

A half hour later Tyrion was sweating profusely.  He was holding the center of the board but just barely.  Olenna was a fucking hidden master!  She would feint and then attack on his flanks.  He barely repulsed her evil intents.  He was launching attacks but she was diverting his efforts.

It was a stalemate.  He had noticed Olenna jerking and spasming at the strangest time.  Her eyes would go glassy and then focus again.  She never lost her focus on her attack and defense though.  The table had a cloth draped over it that ran halfway down to the floor.

A smell out of nowhere assaulted Tyrion’s sensitive smell.  Olenna jammed her body forward into the table making the pieces rattle.  Her hands gripped the edge of the table.  Her body shook violently as her eyes rolled back into her skull and whimpering moans escaped her lips.

Tyrion smelled pussy!

He bent down and lifted the cloth and saw the most beautiful teenage girl he had ever seen.  She had her face buried in Olenna’s twat sucking and slurping away merrily.  She jerked her head back and hissed at Tyrion and swiped at him with her clawed fingers.  He noticed her nails were clipped very short.

“My pussy!  You can’t have any!”

He saw Olenna’s hand cup the back of this teenager’s head.  Her fingers threaded in the flowing dark black locks and she shoved the dark brown face deep into her cunt and the girl avidly started sucking Olenna off again.

Tyrion watched speechless.  “I am happy you have met Emilia. She is from Dorne to help raise Garland’s eldest … hhuunggggg!” Olenna gagged as Tyrion watched Emilia suck Olenna’s upper cunt into her mouth and happily munched away.  “She is sixteen and such a sweet dear.”

Tyrion quickly lost the match his thoughts scattered.

He demanded another match.  He had recovered his equilibrium and holding his own despite the fact that Olenna no longer hid her pleasure and orgasms from Tyrion.  He was desperately on the defense but holding his own. 

Then Garland’s eldest, Maisie came in.  She was voluptuous with dirty blond hair.  She had a heart shaped face and loose curls to her hair.  She smiled at her gran-ma-ma.  “I see you are playing the dwarf who fell through the ceiling.”

Tyrion grimaced.  Well, any fame is better than no fame.

He gauged the girl was sixteen herself. 

“Can I play with Emilia gran-ma-ma?”

“Yes my dear sweet great granddaughter.”

Tyrion’s mouth fell off when said daughter three generations removed bent down and gave her “gran-ma-ma” a kiss on the mouth.  With lots of tongue!

The girl then dropped her dress and was naked as her name day.  She dove underneath the table.  The pieces rocked and rolled as the table jerked and jumped up and down.  The smell of pussy got a lot stronger. 

What the hell?

Tyrion looked underneath the table and both girls were eating out Olenna!  He lost the game!

“Rematch!” Tyrion roared.

Olenna was by now swooning and having really impressive orgasms with much howling and full body spasms.  He looked underneath the table. The girls had somehow gotten ahold of a pair scissors and cut away Olenna’s dress at the hips and were going wild on her pussy.

Another loss!


“Let’s start betting golden crowns why don’t we Tyrion!”

“You’re on!”

The table ceased rocking and he felt something rolling onto his feet and then off again and then back.  He made the mistake looking underneath the table. The two teenagers were locked in a hot sweaty sixty-nine wildly eating each other out.


“FUCK!  Rematch!”

“Double or nothing?”

“Fuck yeah!”

The screams from underneath the table were deafening and the smell of pussy overpowering.

“Lost again Tyrion.”

“Double or nothing Bitch!”

Olenna was writhing now.  Good.  The sluts were back at her pussy now. This was his time to strike!  Olenna slammed back into the back of the royal chair she sat in.  Both arms were underneath the table as she used both hands to ram her sweet Maisie’s face deep into her spasming sloppy wet cunt.  The girl from Dorne had her faced buried in Maisie’s twat eating her out doggy.

“Tyrion be a dear and move my knight from G7 to E5 … … That is R4 you fucking cheat! But it on the right square you fucking runt!”

Curse her!  She should not even be able to see the board at her age!

Soon Olenna was wailing and the table shaking like in an Earthquake.  The girls squealing made obscene noises slurping down the fucking gushing cunt juice.

Olenna’s plumbing was definitely not clogged up!  Damn her eyes!

He could not believe his defeats as he always demanded a rematch.


It was the next day.  He was in his royal Hand carriage on the Rosewood on his way back to King’s Landing.  He gnawed his lip in vexation.

Damn her fucking weathered eyes!

He had lost nine thousand gold dragons to the old hag!  He squirmed in his seat.  His queens would flay the skin off his small bones!  Dany would roast him in dragon fire, Arya would warg into Nymeria and bit his nut sack off, Missandei would sic Shadowclaw on him.  The little Caracal would cut him into a million pieces.

What to doWhat to do?

He came up with a plan.  He would approach each queen separately.  He would tell them he needed three thousand crowns to cover unexpected costs associated with his crafty spy work.

A rider came up to his carriage in Highgarden regalia.  He handed a Tyrion a scroll.

He saw Olenna’s seal.  The bitch had to get in the last word.  He fumed breaking the seal.

“Dear Tyrion:  I have already sent a raven to King’s Landing detailing your losses at the Cyvasse table.  It was nice knowing you.  Kisses.”

Tyrion’s testicles disappeared from his scrotum.  He kissed his ass goodbye and fainted.


Missandei admired the man’s honesty at the temporary setback.  There was still ¾ of the book to go so the Queens had not killed their most valuable advisor.

She couldn’t wait to see how he got out of this pickle.  Which made her think of cucumbers.  She chuckled as got up from the chair and prepared to go to bed.  Tyrion sure had made her and her wives’ lives adventurous in their past lives. 

She hoped to one day meet the modern day Tyrion Lannister.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Planned Journeys

Tyrion shuffled the papers on the desk in the room that had been appropriated as his work /study area.  He was working on his research from Valyria.  He really needed to get his second USB drive back.  He was doing what he could from memory, but he needed the notes and worksheets on that flash drive. 

He had not had the opportunity to translate the writings on the ruins he had visited or look over the grid information from the digs before giving it to Daenerys.  He sat back.  He still found it hard to believe that several translations from a dead land that were made near nine thousand years ago had turned his life so upside down.

Of course he had landed on his feet, like he always did - even if his bum was smarting a little this morning.  He grimaced, remembering how it got into that state.

Cerlina Greyjoy. 

When Tyrion had discovered the woman was from the Iron Islands, he had been after her.  She was the captain of Illyrio’s two hundred foot luxury yacht.  She was also a captain of his secret seal teams that were used in clandestine operations.  She we had a voluptuous body that begged to be ‘boarded’, and he was just the pirate to do it!

She had succumbed to his sweet endearments, and proposed that they have a friendly duel on the seas.  Tyrion had been perplexed at first.  There was a lake behind the estate they were staying at, with pedal boats tied up at the dock. She wanted to have a duel on the seas in that lake, and she would become Tyrion’s salt wife upon his victory. 

It had been a sunny day.  They were paddling around, with Tyrion moving in to board Cerlina.  She was fast and knew how to maneuver her boat!  He saw Cerlina circle off, and then come at his boat at a furious pace.  WhatWhat was producing that strange bow wake?

She was going to ram his boat.  He was just realizing how stupid that was, when an iron harpy head smashed through the planks of his now sinking craft!  The bitch had put a battering ram on her boat!  He screamed like a little girl with the water swirling into and filling his vessel.  She threw him a life preserver, and had him hang onto the ring with a rope attached as she worked her feet paddling towards the shore.

He had been the salt wife that night.  Cerlina had thoroughly enjoyed herself.  Tyrion wished he could have said the same.  His buttocks was killing him the next day.

He turned from his Valyrian work and mused over the information that had been procured for him on the program of ‘Proteus’, the military intelligence computer system that was supposed to control the military apparatus of the Ghiscari alliance.  That had been hard to acquire. The information on the Terminator program was easy to obtain, since it had been the Crime Families leading that project with government assistance.

The Dothraki had a strange sense of humor.  Alan Harris had created Proteus IV.  He was a brilliant scientist, and reported a gentle, peace-loving man.  He, like Sarah Connor, had wanted to never use Proteus in anger.  It seemed his computer had agreed.

The Horse Lords had been in the lead with the first Terminator program.  Tyrion saw that they had used Alan’s drowned daughter Julia as the template to create their first Terminator.  She had died at age ten. The crime family had used extrapolation software to create an adult version of her. They had procured a genetic sample of the departed Julia, and from this they had created a stem cell line from and used it to craft the cyborg tissue of the Terminator.

Tyrion had asked for more information.  Could they get him data on the girl herself? Her personality and attributes?  His hosts had found that request strange, but they accommodated him. Tyrion hit the mother lode.  He was now sure he knew why Cameron was in love with Sarah Connor.  She may have become enamored on her own, but really, she was predestined to love the woman. 

The world had been saved by an inside joke. Without the warped humor of the Dothraki, Proteus would have quickly destroyed mankind.

The door opened, interrupting Tyrion’s train of thought.  In walked his two hosts, Illyrio and Varys.  The men had been behaving most civilly towards Tyrion, and frankly it was freaking him out.  He was constantly waiting with a grim certainty that the next day his fairy tale existence would come crashing down.  His scrotum still contracted with memories of the car battery and one dearly departed Ramsey Bolton.

They joined him at the table.

“How is your progress coming our dear friend?” Illyrio asked.  He at least acted like he was solicitous. 

“Have you made any more progress in deciphering further the prophecies or why magic is now awakening after eight thousand years?” Varys asked. 

“No.” Tyrion cringed, but he saw no anger in his overlords’ faces.  He was a guest, but he knew he was supposed to be providing the service of information.  “I do find it disturbing that it was roughly eight thousand years between the first and second manifestation of the Ice Wright King, though.”

“Do you think he will arise again?  The seasons aligned themselves with his death the second time, on Jon Snow’s sword.”

“I am not sure.  I have my doubts.  He sort of cut off his nose to spite his face. When he killed off the last of the first people, he lost his lifeline.  He did not realize that their lives and his life were linked.  When he killed the last of them, he was not able to survive his second death. It was sort of like taking away Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes.  Still, I am disturbed by this coincidence.”

“I am thinking some other cause and effect is occurring – the Ice King could possibly return, but the Terminators playing into the prophecy sort of nixes that theory.  As badass as the Ice King was back then, one 50 cal bullet and it is ‘meet my shards’, lying in fifty thousand pieces on the ground.”

“We need to get that USB back, I would assume?” Varys asked, looking at Tyrion.

Tyrion had told them up front of the second USB drive.  They would have found out, anyways. What they had not know was where he had sent it.  He had made sure to do without the involvement of any electronics.

It had been that test that had convinced Tyrion (well sort of convinced him) that his hosts were being benevolent towards him for some reason.  They had not forced the location from him.  Instead, they proposed to help him go and retrieve the ‘lost’ USB.

Sure, they had cajoled and made veiled references to body parts found in the local lakes, but had not directly threatened him with bodily harm.  They were actually been nice to him.  They were feeding him well, giving him wine to relax after a hard day’s reading and writing, and plenty of willing wenches to fuck at night.

Really, it was like paradise.  He no longer had to worry about the adage of ‘publish or perish’.  Now he just had to worry about actually perishing.  It tended to keep one on one’s toes.  After several weeks of their remarks about the need to make progress, Tyrion saw they were not going to torture the information out of him.  It seemed they wanted to work with him as partners.  They valued his intellect and his ‘insightful if perverted mind’. 

But if the Terminators decided to turn on man, his ass would get irradiated till it glowed and his cock would be blasted off in the atomic blasts littering the planet. 

Yes indeedee, it was time to get to work.

He had told them how he had mailed the USB by courier to the land of Asshai.  He had given the drive to Draqodos Ennar who lived there near the largest and most powerful ‘dead zone’.  His parents were merchants from Tyrosh that had established a dry goods store there a century ago, and had thrived in that dour and dark land.  The people who lived there were taciturn from the darkness that often enveloped the land from the ash of active volcanos in the interior. On top of that, thick clouds of unnatural fog rolled down from the highlands and often kept the land in gloom for weeks.

Scientists could not explain how the fine curling wisps of fog did not burn off for weeks on end.

The man made the trip by collier ship to save money, and to make sure to avoid the dead zone that had a tendency to change its borders. Several aircraft had crashed when instruments and engines went dead over the decades when the zone suddenly expanded or contracted. 

Draqodos was given a package full of strange trinkets and false shaman and voodoo priest ingredients and potions.  He had several USB drives hidden within with supposed research on them.  Two of them had random information on the religions saved, but the third had his Valyrian research. 

Draqodos had no idea which was truly the treasure. 

He was to take it to a shyster mystic and witch going by the moniker of Melisandre, High Priestess of R’hllor.  Her motto was: “Find the light else the dark will bite your ass!”.  She had to be a fraud.  Her Internet site had little about the dead religion of R’hllor, and much more about physic readings and palmistry.

She would do a physic foretelling via Skype, Oovoo or other video chat services for her clients.  The Palmistry was done via sending her Jpegs – pictures of your palm only, please.  You would get your palm reading e-mailed back within twenty-four hours – so long as your credit card checked out. Tyrion wondered why the hell she needed credit card verification services when she was a psychic.

She also ran a consignment business out of her crowded storefront.  She had all manner of strange items in her store.  The shelves were lined with jars of many seemingly dark and menacing things. Most of it was probably just swamp water.  The pictures uploaded of this ‘Melisandre’ displayed lots of cleavage and legs.  Tyrion guessed she was about six foot two inches tall, and all woman.  Her bosom was quite impressive.  He figured her red eyes must be contact lenses, and she looked hot with the ruby jewel at her neck.

He would love to have a palm reading on her breasts and couchie!

His solicitous hosts looked at Tyrion with a gleam in their eyes.  Tyrion had come to the conclusion that Varys was the finder of facts, or maybe just rumors.  He had his ‘sparrows’ and ‘spiders’ tapping their webs with their legs, gathering information. 

Varys found the information and processed it down into a hypothesis that could be acted on. Then it was Illyrio that took the actionable intel and formed the plan necessary to deal the situation. Varys may chime in with fine tuning every so often, but it was Illyrio that took the action. 

Tyrion had done some background checking on his new ‘friends’.  Varys had been a high ranking spy in the services of Westeros until some unspecified incident derailed his career.  He clashed with M8 of Braavos, who had been led by one Innodos Faenoran.  Innodos had been grievously injured losing his sight.

Vayrs had disappeared after that, and then three years later he was the leader of the Cabal of the Phantom King of Westeros.  Like the Autarchy of the Free Cities, the position was not hereditary or even based on familial ties.  Like the Sealords of Braavos, the title was based on merit.

Illyrio Mopatis was of a crime family of long lineage.  He had earned his title of Don of the Autarchy the old way.  He had bribed, intimidated and killed his way to the top.  He used craft and guile to maintain his position.  That combined with Varys’ intelligence to keep him one or maybe three steps ahead of those who would attempt to topple him from his perch.

It had been Varys that had discovered Tyrion’s ‘situation’, and Illyrio that had within two hours assembled a strike team to rescue him.  Their partnership was most beneficial and profitable to both men.  By combining their talents, they were able to keep Westeros and the Eastern free cities basically calm and the internecine warfare between crime families at a low, acceptable level.

This peace between the crime families and the high profits made the governments willing to turn a blind eye to them.  In fact, Tyrion suspected that the governments availed themselves of their unique talents and made use of crime family hit teams they could disavow.

“Tyrion, you most intrepid of dwarfs. You are about to take a journey to new climes.”

Tyrion knew his bubble had to burst sometime.  “Where, pray tell, might that be?”

Illyrio spoke up with sudden, rising anger.  “I have given you the keys to the kingdom and you have betrayed my trust!”

Tyrion blanched.  What was Illyrio speaking of?  He felt sweat immediately break out on his brow.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I am talking about!”

Tyrion had so many choices to choose from.  “Uh … well you see … ahem … there was this chicken that was trying to cross the road—”

“You pervert!  We showed you how to monitor our security systems for your safety and you abused my trust!”

Varys jumped in. “Do you know what we are talking about, Imp?” the bald man asked with a searching gaze.

Tyrion’s mind was working desperately to control the blind panic coursing through his veins.  He did know what the ‘issue’ was.  He just couldn’t help himself!

He had been monitoring the local feeds, watching the various muscle working while on duty and moreso off duty.  He had most enjoyed the sex and masturbation sessions he got to witness day in and night out.  He still was actively using his porn feeds, but having live shows for free was a blast.

Last week he had stumbled upon a cross feed that was allowing him to see the security cameras of Illyrio’s home.  He quickly discovered Illyrio’s wife was twenty years younger than his erstwhile employer.  Also, she was fucking hot.  The other thing he discovered was that she liked young men and women.

She had plenty of pool hands cycling in to work the pool grounds, and gardeners for the local flower beds.  She had dog walkers for her three Pekinese dogs. With that kind of hair they needed a lot of grooming.  Tyrion saw Serra Mopatis had male pool hands and female gardeners and dog walker / groomers.  He also saw she had only high school aged attendants.

He also saw how she paid her young workers.  She would literally jerk the pool boys’ swimming trunks to their ankles and dive down on her knees to suck them off.  He also saw they all were hung.  Much like himself, he conceded.  The high school boys would howl as their cocks slid down her throat.  She was quite adept at deep throat.  She had the high school bucks shooting off their loads below her neck.  They howled in pleasure.

With the girls, she ripped off their bikinis and threw them down on the deck lounge chairs and devoured teenage pussy sucking off and off again and again until the poor lasses were dehydrated and put into a comatose state of bliss.

She was a beautiful MILF that was also a predator of willing teenage succulent flesh.  She had a black lawyer over yesterday who was just out of law school.  She was from Naathi.  She had come from Illyrio to give his wife the latest stock portfolios that he was appraising.  His wife had a good head for figures.

The woman was near swooning seeing all the white teenage girls running around in skimpy bikinis.  The prim and proper lawyer was trying hard to not drool.  Serra had called over the four young sixteen and seventeen year old beauties.  She asked Faeyasha Orloyor if she liked all the young lasses that now surrounded her.  Serra had chuckled seeing the woman overwhelmed with repressed desires.

“Fuck her blind,” was Serra’s simple command.  Tyrion had been ecstatic watching the four white sluts ripping the full bosomed black woman’s clothes to shreds and throwing her down on the chaise.  It had taken them three hours to totally exhaust the woman.  She had valiantly fucked and fucked through countless orgasms while sucking off four white teenage pussies again and again.  Fucking like that was hard work.

Tyrion had loved seeing the five female bodies covered in drying female cum. 

Illyrio was furious over it.  “I trusted you to not spy on my sweet wife and her predilections for underage cock and pussy. There must be ramifications for this heinous abuse of my trust in you, Tyrion Lannister.”

Tyrion was sweating furiously; his mind working feverishly.  His ‘bosses’ were both middle age and overweight.  He should be able to outrun them till he could throw himself off a roof top and avoid any torture.

“Roose Bolton will be here in one hour.  He has much to talk to you about, Tyrion.  The doors are locked by the way if you are thinking about making a run for it.”

Squeeeee Squeeee! Tyrion squealed running to the door and pulling on the door knob looking over his shoulder with big saucer eyes.  Squeeee Squueeeee Squeeeeeee! Tyrion bleated like the cowering swine he was.

It was only then he turned around and noticed Illyrio on the ground, rolling around from hip to hip his girth giggling and high pitched laughing peels of unlimited mirth.

Varys looked at Tyrion with an amused smirk.  “His wife loves having an audience.  They wanted you spying on her.  Makes her fuck like a banshee.  Serra likes her young boys and girls.  She satisfies Illyrio’s female itch, while male commercial models satisfy his male itch.”

“Geez Tyrion.  You are so easy.”

Tyrion scurried to the bathroom to check his new skid marks.


Tyrion now knew he would be traveling to Asshai by ship.  He was booked on an old merchant steamer,  the route being taken to avoid notice.  No one ever thought of going by merchant ship anymore.  It was slow and uncomfortable, but it afforded anonymity and the cheap fare.  No one would be looking for Tyrion going by ship.

He was happy that his bodyguards would be going with him.  They had been away for a while on several missions.  He made his way to the gym in the basement to watch them train.  He wanted to know just how good they were.

He watched them do calisthenics, isometrics, weight training and wind sprints.  The small Ygritte was shockingly fast, and Brienne was amazingly strong bench-pressing over four hundred pounds in sets of ten.

Ygritte came over to Tyrion.  “She is all muscle.  Remember that I am the brains of this outfit.  She follows my orders. And I am very strong for my stature, I tell you.  Not that I’m boasting or anything.”

“Ygritte, you blew a gasket just lifting the weight bar.  You are so flyweight.”

Ygritte eyes bulged out of their sockets, and she ran over to Brienne who had put the weight bar in its holders and sat up.

“That is a lie!  I can lift twice my own weight and more, I will have you know.”

“Like I said, you can’t even lift the bar weight.”  She wiped the sweat off her face, splotchy with sweat and blood rush.

Tyrion saw Ygritte staring at Brienne, licking her lips unconsciously.  Brienne started to hurl another insult but stopped seeing Ygritte staring at her hard.  She was nonplussed, not sure what Ygritte was staring at.  She started to get nervous.

Tyrion had laid money on them shagging each other when they arrived in Asshai, so he did not help them figure it out. 

Ygritte reached out and put a lock of stray hair behind Brienne’s ear.  The woman’s beautiful blue eyes went limpid.

Oh No! Tyrion thought.  I am going to lose the bet before we even get out of Braavos.

Ygritte’s fingers found Brienne’s ear and twisted it hard.  “Ouch!  You fucking bitch!” Brienne screeched, her head twisting as she got up, folded over as Ygritte jerked on her ear.  Brienne rabbit punched Ygritte in the ribs in return, making the fiery redhead howl in pain, releasing Bienne’s ear.  “You bitch!”

Romantic crisis averted.

They stormed and bitched through the rest of their workout.

“Why do they even let you in here Ygritte?  A yap-yap dog can lift more weight than you can.”

“That is a lie you fucking Lurch!  You can’t chew gum and walk at the same time.”

Brienne spit her gum out hitting Ygritte in the forehead.

“I would say my aim is pretty good there, midget.  You know, I don’t know why I put up with this abuse.  I should ask for a new partner.”

She got ready to do another set of arm curls with free weights.  She stopped when she did not hear a retort.  She looked up.

She saw what Tyrion had seen but been speechless.  It was obvious Brienne was just gigging the small Wildling outcast, but tears were in Ygritte’s eyes breaming and about to fall down her cheeks.

Brienne was off the bench in a flash and pulled the woman to her side in a fierce hug.

“Hey Ygritte!  Stop that.  I would never ever ask for another partner.  You are the best I have ever seen.  You are fast, adept and strong!  And don’t ever let anyone know I said this Ygritte, but you are the brains of this duo. I rely on your intelligence and insights. I am indeed just the dumb muscle.”

“You stop that, Brienne of Tarth.  You know nothing!  You are brilliant in your intelligence and I need all the insights you give me in the field.  I would be helpless without you!”

They stared at each other awkwardly shuffling their feet and hemming and hawing.  They started inching towards each other.

Tyrion thought about saying the hell with the bet seeing these two lonely and desperate in love mercenaries find each other and bring happiness to their lives.


“Ahem. Can I see some of that vaunted skill that your employers have told me of?”

The women shook their heads and the moment passed.  Tyrion was sure that Brienne would never make that mistake again.  The look of panic that came over her eyes seeing Ygritte about to cry would make sure of that.

Ygritte took in a wooden replica of a Naginata ko-naginata.  It was a smaller version of the male variant ō-naginata with a smaller blade. 

Brienne picked up a wooden practice broadsword.  It was nearly five feet long where Ygritte’s weapon was near six and half foot in length.

The bowed to each other.  Brienne started to circle around Ygritte sizing her up looking for a drop in her guard.  In a silent rush she came in with a slashing sword stroke to Ygritte’s head.

Tyrion cringed thinking he would need a new bodyguard, but Ygritte easily side stepped and jabbed forward nearly impaling the forward lunging Brienne.  Her sword slashed down and away knocking the pole weapon to the side.  Ygritte whirled the shaft around her body and jabbed at Brienne’s ribs from the new angle.  The tall woman barely blocked the thrust.  She pivoted and spun away and then came in slashing furiously.

Ygritte was blocking the sword thrusts and slashes not through brute force, but by shunting the blows down and away.  She was constantly pivoting away and circling Brienne, not allowing the tall blonde to come at her with a straight forward attack.  She would block and parry and suddenly thrust and slash from unexpected angles and vectors.  She was constantly pivoting low and sweeping her pole at Brienne’s legs.

Twice she succeeded in upending the woman but Brienne would twist down to her knees, bellowing and slashing in great sweeping arcs.  The long blade kept Ygritte from moving in close enough for a ‘kill’.  Brienne would use her strength to get back to her feet and achieve her stance and block the onslaught of the small woman.

Brienne would launch vicious attacks that the shorter woman impossible met and blunted with speed and unparalleled skill.  She would knock the smaller woman back and off balance, but Ygritte always recovered and her arching shaft and blade would have Brienne blocking desperately to keep the blade from biting into her body or slashing her face.

Tyrion had read of their marksmanship with both guns and rifles.  They were masters of all manner explosives as well.  They could swim underwater for over five minutes, and were masters of UDT (Underwater Demolition Team).  They were deadly with all manner of knives.

Ygritte was said to be one of the two best bowmen in the world.  The other was a FBI agent that recently went rogue - one Arya Stark.

Now he saw that these women were also masters of bladed weapons.  His jaw dropped at witnessing their sheer speed, grace and poetry in motion.  They were holding nothing back in their confidence in not only their skills, but the skills of their opponent.

After ten more minutes they ceased their sparring and silently bowed to each other.  Brienne went to towel off her face.  Ygritte stood behind her, nearly drooling looking at Brienne’s tight rump that came up to her tits nearly with their height difference.  Ygritte’s eyes said it all.  Her body was flushed from her sparring but Tyrion knew that her throat had flushed deeper red seeing that tight ass right in front of her eyes.  Her fingers twitched with desire.

Tyrion definitely needed cameras wherever these women finally consummated their love.  Gods they were so athletic.  If they brought the same skills to the bed … Tyrion shook his head.

He was going to win so big and get his rocks off too!  Life was indeed good again.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Picking Up The Pieces


Margaery read over the reports of the damage done to their facilities in Highgarden, King’s Landing, New Lannister, Gulltown and Rockingham again.  The rolling blackouts and wild power surges that had plagued the electrical grid of Westeros from the events at SAC in the vale were still being fully sifted and remedied.  At first it had been thought that it was mere blackouts. 

Margaery had analyzed the data from all the probes she had had installed to monitor electrical power.  With the data from the probes she was sure powerful EMP bursts had traveled down the transmission lines.  What in the hell had occurred at SAC? Margaery wondered.  Something big and something powerful. 

The probes, UPS units, and electrical scrubbers had been an expense Sansa never bitched about.  She never wanted to harm her cash cows.  Margaery stopped herself. She was being unfair.  It was thinking like that which had contributed to their “problems”.  They had started walking down separate paths and never bothered to look for each other until they were both out of sight.  Margaery felt fully justified in thinking it had been Sansa that had the blinders on, though.  It was Sansa who had turned her back on the research labs.

Margaery paused.  How hard did she really try to learn the boardroom herself, though?  Sansa had begged her to.  Margaery squirmed at that truth.

She heard Sansa in the kitchen,  preparing them a lunch.  She had solicitously asked Margaery what she would want for their midday repast an hour ago.  

Sansa was doing most of her meetings from home via video conference bridge and working through email, spreadsheets and memos.  Petyr Baelish visited every Wednesday.  He brought important files and proposals from the office.  She resented him, but could not help but remember that it was he who had recalled the defective medical implement. 

During the first meeting, Margaery laid on her bed staring at the ceiling feeling alone and miserable.

She and Sansa had fought furiously when Sansa first stayed at their home.  Margaery made snide comments about Sansa being away from her ‘true love’.  Sansa did not rise to the jib, but instead showed that calm Stark resolve Margaery had once adored.  Now she just thought it made Sansa seem like a glacial cunt.

Sansa asked her if she was ready to start working again on her projects.  She had thrown her tablet at Sansa.  She was not ready.  “You afraid the product lifeline is going to dry up and your profits will plummet?  I am just the Researcher.”

Tears had sprung to Sansa’s eyes at that, but she had held them.  Later she passed the main guest bedroom Sansa was staying in.  Her sobs broke Margaery’s heart, but it was too late for that.

The tension was always bubbling beneath the surface between them.  It royally pissed her off that Sansa would not yell at her.  Damn it, she wanted to fight.

“I am leaving you. I am going back to Highgarden.”

Sansa just sat there with a blank look.

“What do you have to say to that Sansa Stark?!”

“I will throw myself out the window to my death on the day you leave me.”

“You bitch!  You are just saying that trying to control me!”

“Think what you want.”

“Fuck you, bitch!”

With that, Sansa slowly got up and walked to her bedroom and quietly closed the door.

Margaery gnawed her lip.  She knew Sansa meant it.  She loved her so much still she would kill herself.  Well fuck her! 

She stormed to her bedroom to pack her suitcases. 

She was packing her bags furiously to start with but as she half-filled her suitcases the steam left her.  She knew she did not want to go home.  She sat and thought about her situation.  She knew she still loved Sansa.  She had a lot of hostility built up in her system, but she still loved the reticent and reserved Stark.

Her fury spent, she remembered the look on Sansa’s face as she walked to her room so deathly calm.  Margaery was up off her bed in a flash, running down the hall.  She reached Sansa’s door.  She thought about barging in, but she wanted to show Sansa respect.  With their currently strained relationship, she did not feel she had right of familiarity.

She knocked on the door. 

“Can I come in Sansa?”  She waited.  Silence.

“Open the door Sansa!”


“Open the godsdamned door now, Sansa!”


She pounded on the door again.  Still no response.

Margaery gripped the ornate door handle and pushed it down, then pushed the door open.  She was shocked by what she saw. 

Sansa had consumed a small amount of a bottle of bourbon.  The mostly-full bottle sat on the night stand.  Beside it was a knocked over shot glass, with bourbon spilled over on the expensive mahogany wood. Sansa was moaning and crying. It tore at Margaery’s heartstrings to see her wife like this. 

Sansa never drank, and was simply wasted by the small amount she had consumed. 

Margaery walked over to the nightstand, picked up the bottle and looked at the label.  It was a fifth bottle of A.H. Hirsch Reserve 16 Old Straight Bourbon Whiskey.  Margaery sighed.  At least Sansa went for the good stuff for her first drunk.

She went to Sansa who stared blearily up at her.  She started to cry harder.

“You don’t luuvvfff me anymere!” and started to wail.  She weakly thrashed her head.  “I’ve ruined it. Yufff will never forvivvth meee … I really really fuckeddd it uullppp!”

Margaery took a deep breath.  It hurt her to see her strong wife reduced to this.  Because of her.  Sansa was right, though. She had fucked up royally.  Margaery doubted that their relationship could be saved, but she saw now that Sansa was really hurting too.  Her threat of jumping built on deep, raw pain.

What was the answer?  Margaery did not know.

“Oh Shitttt!  I don’t feel so well.”

Margaery’s eyes flew wide open.  Oh no!  This could get real bad, real quick.  She moved to Sansa’s side in a flash and helped her reeling wife to sit up.

She tried to lift Sansa, but she was a tall, stout, strong woman.  “Sansa - lift.”

Sansa looked around blearily.  “Lifffff whaaattt?  I don’t see any boxes—oohhhhh I don’t feelllppfff to good!”

“Get up!  NOW!”

That worked.  Sansa lurched up.  Margaery half guided—half dragged Sansa to the bathroom.  Damn her wife was heavy dead weight in this condition! Her own choice of words just then chilled her.

She got Sansa to stumble over to the toilet.  Sansa fell to her knees.  Margaery got to her hair just in time, sweeping it back over her shoulder.  Sansa ralphed for a long time, emptying her stomach of alcohol.

She got Sansa stripped down, then removed her own clothes.  Damn, she had forgotten just how beautiful Sansa was.  Her body was still smoking hot - she had not let her body go at all through the years.  Margaery hadn’t either.  Both of them believed in staying fit and eating healthy.

Sansa had spluttered and cried out as the cold water washed over her body.  She had half-fought Margaery in her alcohol induced confusion, but Margaery got her wife cleaned up.  She then helped her still-drunk wife out of the shower, and toweled her dry. She pulled a night shirt over her head, and Sansa sat on the bed.

“Can you love me again Margaery?” she asked brokenly.

Margaery had no answer. 

They were still frosty with each other, but Margaery had lost her bile after that night.  She was still furious with Sansa for treating her so badly and ignoring her, but she no longer wanted to strike out at her wife.  She was still not sure about their future and thought it was likely doomed, but she no longer wanted to hurt Sansa - and that was an improvement.

She slipped into a limbo.  She did not know how to step forward.  She knew she still loved Sansa, but she felt dead every time she looked at her.  She could remember as a distant echo a time she could not keep her hands and mouth off the woman.  She had devoured Sansa and fucked her bowlegged with her strap-on. 

That ended so long ago.

Sansa was still so beautiful.  But Margaery got a little ill with so much as the thought of making love to her.  Sansa had ruined it all.

Even worse, she could not bring herself to go back to the research lab or use video conference, or even so much as use the Internet to do some research and keep abreast of all the projects that their corperation was involved in.  She snorted to herself.  She was surprised that Sansa had not shrieked about her harming Stark Tyrell Pharmaceutical with her neglect. 

She had lost her mojo.  She just had no passion for anything, and that scared her.  She had long ago lost her passion for Sansa, but her desire to further research to help mankind had sustained her.  If she lost that too, she would be in serious trouble.

Margaery was agitated.  This was Petyr Baelish’s fourth visit to their home to give Sansa her precious weekly briefing.  She knew Sansa thought she was making a grand sacrifice, working at home to stay near Margaery. She saw through the sham.  Sansa was just trying to make herself feel better.

She hid away in her now-permanent bedroom.  She paced around, brooding.  Petyr had never been bad or mean to her, but she could not let go of the fact that he had once pursued Sansa romantically.  She still felt threatened by the man even though Sansa had only been into women since she met Margaery. Or maybe it was only herself alone that attracted Sansa to the female sex. 

There was a knock at the door.  She did not answer it.  She did not want to see Sansa right now, with that man in the house.  Hell, she did not want to see Sansa period.

The door was knocked on four more times after a polite interlude. The fifth set of raps propelled her into action.  She went to the door in a huff, ripping it open.

“What do you want Sansa?!” she barked without looking.

Petyr Baelish stood before her with a cocked eyebrow and that smirk that came so easy to his face.  He looked her up and down and smirked even more, seeing Margaery in a frumpy full length robe.

“Get dressed Margaery. You are late for the meeting.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are one half of this corperation and it is high time you started acting like it.”

“Excuse me!”

Petyr stood undaunted before her, and went to hand her two HP tablets.  “The one in my right hand is a summary of the status of the lab projects you have been neglecting.”  He jabbed the tablet at Margaery. 

She refused it. She spied the other tablet.  “What is that one for?”

He entered the room, closing the door behind him.  Margaery fumed at the intrusion.  Petyr turned to look at her.  She glared death rays at the man.

“It is tablet with the most recent balance sheet, cash flow reports, personal concerns and job openings.”

“I don’t involve myself in that shit.”

“That ends as of today.”

Excuse me!” She repeated, incredulous at his nerve.

“You have been most unfair to Sansa. That ends as of today.”

“That is fucking bullshit!”

“Is it. She asked you, no, my memory tells me she begged you to get more involved in the business side of your corporation.  She needed your intelligence and acumen, but you refused her repeatedly.”

“That is a fucking lie!” Margaery’s stomach twisted.  Sansa had pleaded with her. But not for long!

“She begged you for six month.”

Fuck!  She did not need to hear this.

“Why are you so fucking concerned?  With me out of the picture you are free to move in and stake your claim on Sansa!” Margaery yelled at Petyr,  her inner fears tumbling out.  “You never wanted me in the picture!”

Petyr looked at Margaery Tyrell blandly.  “I see.  The green eyed monster.  Let’s lance this wound once and for all;  I grow tired of it.  We had this conversation once before.”

Margaery glared at the man sullenly. 

“I will not deny that once I sought the hand of Sansa as I had her mother.  I was rejected by both.  It hurt like hell to be turned aside for another, twice, but I survived.”

“But if I was out of the picture, then you could have Sansa.”

Petyr snorted.

“I will never have Sansa.  Her heart belongs to you as her mother’s belongs to Eddard Stark.  I have come to see this is best.”

Margaery could not help but be curious “How so?”

“I have come to discover that my wife is this company.  And if not this one, then another.  I will always give my singular focus to the business I am intimately involved in. I have lady friends that come and go to fulfill my physical needs. They do not give me anything emotional.  I know myself well enough now to know that even in marriage, I would not get or give much emotional support.

“I would make a horrible husband to any woman.  I know it and accept it.  Actually, I find that I am much happier than you and Sansa are currently.”

Margaery bristled at the truth.  Her eyes shot daggers at him.

“But this is something that can be corrected.  Sansa will do anything to win you back.  I do not see the same willingness from you, however.  You are not worthy of her.”

“Fuck you!”

“I think not.  You need to get over the past and start living for the future.  You have a beautiful woman that has seen the errors of her ways, and a company that can change the world for the better.  The choice is yours.”

“You are just worried about all the fucking money I make you and Sansa!”

Petyr handed Margaery the second tablet.

Margaery snatched the device from Petyr’s hand.  She almost threw it against the wall but she could not bring herself to destroy a piece of scientific endeavor no matter how pissed she was.  She respected science too much. She turned and put both devices on the table beside her.  She may end up throwing them yet if she kept them in her hand.

“Yes, you have been bleating that a lot lately.  It is time we put that little lamb to bed, I think.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Margaery sneered.  She was the brains that made their company go.

“You are holding us back, Margaery.”

That was a fucking lie!  “Bullshit!  You fucking liar!”

“Your maniacal insistence to be involved in all of the projects, and that you have to lead and do all of the critical experiments yourself is retarding our speed and ruining moral.”

“Bullshit!  No one has said anything!”

“They are afraid to.”

“I don’t believe you!  Fuck you!”

“Your incessant demands to remain in charge and constant cross-checking all findings and results is causing some of our best scientists to leave.”

“They got better offers!” Margaery yelled though she knew she was lying.

“Now it is my turn.  Bullshit.  We pay top salary and give them as much freedom and responsibility as we can despite your best effort to undermine all our efforts.”

Margaery folded her arms under her breasts and glared at the man.

“You are brilliant, Margaery.  I and Sansa think you are the most brilliant scientist in your field, but you limit yourself.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Margaery’s arms whipped down.  She was seething.  She did not like what she was hearing one bit!

“You dissipate yourself having to be involved in everything.  Which of course you cannot.  You can be replaced Margaery.  You act like you are sacrosanct.”


“We would have to hire twenty-five scientist to replace your brilliance, but it could be done.”

Margaery was back to glowering at the man.

“You limit yourself.”

“How. The. Fuck. So?!”

“How many projects are on the backburner—not being done, because you can’t find the time to do them?”


“Actually it is twelve.  You are eschewing the data.”

Margaery gave Petyr the evil eye.

“How much more could you do if you set up the programs to solve the hypothesis you develop?  If you started trusting your staff.  We have hired brilliant scientists and technicians. Let them earn their pay.”

He looked at Margaery pointedly, but she did not feel like responding.  He was hitting too close to home.

“You are holding this company back.  With the drugs and devices we do not develop, we are failing to fulfill our mission statement to our clients.”

“Who are they?” Margaery asked, peeved.  She had never read of it.

“Mankind,” was Petyr’s softly spoken reply.

“You make it sound like I am the only problem in this company.”

“Oh no.  Sansa has plenty of blame in our little tableau.  She was blinded by her singular vision of the bottom line.  A vision she did not have her wife there to ameliorate.  She did not have the strength of soul not to lose her way in the corporate Game of Thrones.  She has a dark side that she fed and stoked. Sansa and I share this same proclivity to be single minded about our goals.  I would not doubt that in past lives, I caused much harm.”

Margaery stared him.  She hated to admit it, but the man was making good sense.  He was a shrewd evaluator of human strengths and foibles.  

“I would like to think I have learned control.”

“So what the fuck do we do now Petyr?” Margaery could not control the venom spilling from her mouth.

Petyr smiled that smile that told her he found her continued emotional display humorous.  Which of course pissed her off still more.  How the fuck could he stay so cool?

“We will go and sit down in the meeting room you have, and discuss the future of this company with your wife.  From this day henceforth you are part of this company totally.  You will no longer be stuck in your labs hiding from your full duties and responsibilities.”


“Sansa will start spending more time in the lab to ground herself.  I am most disappointed in her actions over the last three years. I have done audits on the books and reports.  She has made many questionable decisions.”

Margaery flew hot.  “Don’t your attack her!”

“I’m only telling you the truth Margaery.  I may be a piranha or barracuda or whatever label you may want to pin to me, but I do have ethics.  We should always seek maximum profit—IF—it causes no harm to our clients who are …”

“Mankind,” Margaery responded sullenly.

“Sansa seems to have forgotten that.  I doubt you ever would have.  You are more grounded than our dear Sansa.  Like I have said, she has a darkness in her that must be warded against.  I like to think that now that she has been made aware of it she will never go down that road again.  But, I fear that if you do not forgive her she will backslide.”

“I am not sure I want this, Petyr.  So much has happened.”

“Like your infidelity? Sansa never cheated on you.”

Margaery felt her heart quiver.  Tears started to run down her cheeks.  She watched Petyr pull the handkerchief out the breast pocket of his dress jacket and hand it to her.

“She never cheated with a flesh and blood woman, but she cheated in her own way Margaery.  Her mistress was your company, and the bottom line on the balance sheet.  She forgot what it feels like to have one’s body stroked by a flesh and blood woman who desires and loves her.”

Petyr watched her cry for a minute with a neutral expression.  He was not one for giving out hugs, Margaery deduced.

“Stop your crying Margaery. Let’s put this behind us.”

Margaery sniffled.  Who was this man?  Was he always this insightful?  Had he always been this fair and balanced?

“Margaery, I have come to you because I feel that you and Sansa can repair the damage you have done to your relationship, but, you both must work for it.  Can you do that?”

Before she could answer, Peytr turned to the door and opened it. He stood solicitously to the side, holding it open for her.  She looked at her robe and shrugged.  What the hell.  It was their home.  She bent down and picked up the two tablets he had given her.  She took a small detour, and gathered her personal tablet she had been working the power outages on as well.

They walked down the hall to the main parlor, and then down the short hallway on the other. She walked through the door to the left, into a room that Sansa had set up to be a home command center. She had almost never used it before, preferring to be a hands-on administrator.

Sansa looked at her with sad eyes that had bags under her them. It was clear she had lost at least ten pounds over the past few weeks - ten pounds she couldn’t afford to lose.  She stood up and fidgeted.

“Petyr, I have made a decision.”  She paused and looked at Margaery.  “I am stepping down as CEO.”

Shocked silence filled the room. Petyr stared hard at Sansa.  Margaery could tell this news shocked him as much as it shocked her.  She had thought this company meant everything to the Stark.

Petyr took several breaths.  “May I ask why?”

“I can never win Margaery back if I remain with company. She has made that clear.”

Margaery was nonplussed.  She should have felt either anger or elation … something, towards Sansa. But she was just numb with shock.  Her mind began to race. Sansa was willing to give it all up.  For her.  She turned to look at Petyr.  He was grinding his teeth. 

Before his visit, Margaery would have spitefully thrown this back in Sansa’s face.  Now, she stopped and asked herself what this really meant to her.

“Sansa.  Let’s not be rash here.  I have tal—”

“No Petyr.  All my dreams have turned to ash in my mouth. I have lost everything. I fucked up everything.”

Margaery started.  Sansa never cursed.  Well, outside of their bed at least.  In it, she cursed like a drunken sailor on leave.

“No Sansa,” Margaery told her wife.

“What?” Sansa asked, perplexed.

“Petyr and I had a talk.”

Sansa glared at Petyr.  “I told you to let us work this out!”

Petyr again kept his mouth shut. 

This was her fight.  “He talked to me like I needed to be talked to, Sansa.  I had blinders on.  I have taken them off.  I can accept now that I have not been perfect in this relationship.”

“No! You were the one in the right. Totally.  I made all the mistakes.  I am the one who made horrible decisions.  My father would disown me if he knew how much I had turned aside from the greater good.”

“Oh please, Sansa.  Let’s cut the melodrama.  It is not black and white.  The world is full of greys that merge and blend together.

“Not for my father.”

Margaery considered that.  Sansa may be right about that, but in many ways Eddard Stark led an insular life.  His job, loving family and the support system around him allowed for it.  He would fail miserably if he ever stepped foot into his daughter’s world.

“This may be true Sansa.” She smiled softly.  “I know you won’t want to hear this, but according to my grandmother Olenna your father had a doppelganger that went to King’s Landing in the time before the coming of the Dragon Queen and her two wives.”

“Oh please Margaery.  You know that was only a myth. One of many fables.”

“I am not so sure, Sansa.  Do you know what happened to the man so like your own father, the Warden of the North?  The man beloved and respected by his countrymen?”

She could see by the look on Sansa’s face she was curious even if she did not believe in the fables.  “What happened to him Margaery?”  Margaery smiled again. Sansa had asked with bated breath.  Good.  It would make the answer all the better.

“He had his head chopped off as a traitor.”

“No!  That is impossible.”

She spent the next few minutes giving Sansa the twenty-five thousand foot view of events in the distant past.  “So you see Sansa, in the world of greys nothing is easy or simple.

“You will remain as CEO and I will assume the duties as Co-CEO.  This is my ship too.  That is, if you still want me at your side as you guide this company.”

“YES!” Sansa shouted, with a big, hopeful smile on her face. Margaery could not help but feel a little better seeing that.  The instantaneous reaction had not been faked or rehearsed; it was from the heart.  Had she, herself, been the one so wrong for so long?

She sat down with Petyr and Sansa, and they reviewed reports and looked over the balance sheet.  Something caught Margaery’s eye.

“Why are we buying back stock?  This is reducing profits.”

Sansa demurred.

Petyr spoke up.  “Sansa decided three years ago to start a stock buyback program. We have reached a level of such success that our profits alone can fund our day to day operations and future growth.  By reducing the amount of stocks in the field, we reduce the ability of outsiders to influence our decisions.  Sansa wanted to be able to chart our decisions without that pressure.  She has wanted to increase our funding for research in cancer, Alzheimer’s, and Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis.”

Margaery was surprised and she knew it showed on her face.  She herself was excited by the progress they were making, but knew they needed more funding and time. There was never enough time. 

“I didn’t know.”

Petyr spoke softly.  “If you had been in the meetings guiding our company, you would have.”

“Don’t you attack Margaery!” Sansa snapped at Petyr.

He was getting that a lot today.  Margaery was starting to feel for the man. That was a first.

He was not done.

“Imagine what we could get done if a certain brilliant scientist released the reigns.  Got out of the lab more, and allowed strong, capable lieutenants to run with her ideas while keeping their focus aligned with her guidance and insights.”

Sansa glared at the man.  She was about to chastise him again.

“You’re right, Petyr.”

Sansa stared at Margaery as if poleaxed.

“If I was to take more of a managerial role, I could get so much more done. I always feel I never have the time and resources to do what is needed. I have been selfish in my own way.  That stops as of today.  I will have to learn my way around the corporate side of things, but I am ready now.  I have held this company back.  We are close to major breakthroughs on these diseases - I will no longer be an impediment.”

Sansa stared at with those soft eyes that Margaery remembered from times past.

Maybe there was hope.  She still had a lot of resentment to work through, but now at least she did not want to trash it all and turn away.  She was not sure if she could ever truly love Sansa like she once she did, but she now believed she could at least work with the woman.

They had a common goal, after all.  Help mankind.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives

You Got Skills


“Bullshit, this is fucking bullshit!” Arya stormed, jumping up off the Newton chaise they had moved to the communal area, after having moved the table into the ‘command center’.  Andi and Dany had rearranged the chairs a few days ago so they could all watch the large flat screen TV together. 

Arya was infuriated.  She glared at the gaming console with its myriad buttons and thumbpads with seething rage, yearning to throw it to the ground and stomp it into a million smithereens.

“You suck!” The temperamental assassin roared at Missandei as the little fucking minx was up on her feet again, doing her little uncoordinated little victory dance that she found to be cute despite herself.  The way she jutted her ass out and threw her arms out while shuffling a stiff jig was so endearing - and it did not hurt that her see-thru bra let her firm, large breasts sashay all around on her chest,  and that her gossamer panties were cut to enfold her camel toe enticingly either…

Damnit stop that Arya!  She is my charge and I am her protector.  I need to honor Nyomi’s memory!

Dany was looking up at her with a cocked eyebrow.

For the last ninety minutes, both teenagers had been dealing death to her character in Mortal Kombat.  It was fucking infuriating.  She was one of the best hitmen in the world, and she was being annihilated by these two … two nerds!

She just couldn’t master all the damn buttons and gizmos on the fucking controllers!

“Rematch!” Arya bellowed.  It was Dany’s turn.  This time she would crush the smirking Valyrian. 


Ten minutes later Dany was performing her 'Fatalities' on Arya as she brutalized her digital corpse on the screen.

“I’m telling you godsdamnit this is not how you fight in the real world!” Arya angrily protested. “You hear me you fucking shit?!” She yelled over at Daenerys who was beaming, having again destroyed Arya easily on the screen.

“And no dancing!” Arya growled at the Valyrian.

Dany smiled evilly at Arya, and slowly stood up. She was wearing a set of sheer white panties and bra that left nothing to the imagination.  She sultrily moved over to Arya who was staring at her as if hypnotized,  her grey eyes captured by Dany’s swaying boobs. 

Dany told herself that the reason her nipples were so painfully erect and her pussy was wet was because she was so excited playing the game and finally kicking Arya’s ass at something.  Not because the assassin’s eyes were hungrily devouring her body while trying so hard not to.

She sat on Arya’s lap, and like the hot, alluring call girl she still was in her naughty moments, ran her hands up and enfolded Arya in her grasp, playing with the beautiful brown hair that framed her perfect face.  She swished her breast in her murderous victim’s face and ground her wet camel toe into Arya’s stomach.  Her breathing began to get ragged as she stared into Arya’s eyes. 

She broke the stare and glanced over at Andi, whose eyes were literally throbbing with sex as she watched them.  Her sweet innocent Andi was stepping closer, Dany noticed, licking her lips.

Daenerys was not sure exactly what was happening, but she loved how excited it made her feel, and the way her core throbbed with a passion she had never felt before.  She saw that Andi’s panties had a wet spot.

Oh sweet gods what is about to happen? Whatever it is,  I want it!  I want it like I have never wanted anything in my life before!  She looked back down at Arya and her sweet lips, starting to lean in closer.

The next thing Dany knew she was looking up from the floor,  having thumped onto her ass when Arya stood up in a flash and dumped her unceremoniously on the ground.

“Har-har Dany. You win the day. I concede.  But there will come a time when I will conquer and vanquish you two – and then I will make you pay!”  With that, Arya helped Dany back up to her feet. 

The spell that Dany had fallen under was broken. She had been sure that Arya was tilting her head back for Dany to kiss her just seconds ago. Hot passion had been throbbing in Arya’s eyes.  She was sure of it!

Arya started laughing good naturedly then,  her body totally relaxed.  Dany had been sure she that she’d seen that Arya’s body was on fire for her,  but now she saw no sign of arousal at all.

Dany shook her head.  She must be letting her own raging thoughts make her see what was not there.  She shook her head. 

She saw Missandei’s eyes following Arya as she went into the hall by the bed that led to the bathing area. She looked back at Dany with a twinkle in her eye.  She started laughing then,  and came over to Dany and slapped their palms together in a high five. 

“We busted her chops good!” Andi crowed.

Dany shook her head.  She had been sure something was going to happen between the three of them.  She did not know what was happening to herself.  Andi enfolded her into her arms and hugged Dany tight.  Again Daenerys nearly swooned at the delicious skin to skin contact.  She had to suppress the moans she wanted to whinny.

She loved holding Andi in her arms at night.  For the last two nights she had had to fight herself from rolling Andi over onto her back from their spoon position, and … do what? … she knew what she wanted to do … she wanted to go down on Andi and make love to her. 

She had finally seen what a wonderful woman she was, only to find she had waited too long.  She would control her lustful thoughts, but then moments like what just happened, happened. 

Sometimes she would see Andi looking at her from the corner of her eye with raw lust.  When she turned to look at Andi, the look she thought she’d seen was not there.  It was maddening. She was sure one minute, unsure the next about what was happening with her best friend.

She was seeing Arya with new eyes as well. Arya would give her just the smallest hint of interest, and then it was gone.

It was confounding and confusing, but it made her feel so alive.  Maybe for the first time!

If only she hadn’t waited so long to see what was right in front of her for so long with Andi. It depressed her every time she thought about it.

All three of them put their furniture back in place, and got ready for bed. Arya was listening to music like she normally did in the kitchen at her little ‘spot’, as Dany and Andi called it, while they got in bed after dropping their panties and bras on the floor.  As was their habit now, they kissed each other on the cheek.  Dany longed to move her head and bring her mouth to Andi’s and ravish her ‘little Einstein’ as Arya often called her.  Andi liked it when Arya called her that;  so did Dany.

She pulled Andi tight against her body, and her precious friend soon fell asleep.  Dany had learned that Andi was a very deep sleeper.  Only when she knew Andi had dozed off did Dany press her body hard against her deep sleeping friend. She slowly swirled her hips, moaning quietly as she mashed her swollen snatch gently into Andi’s firm ass cheek, swirling her wet cunt on it.  Soon her best friend’s ass cheek was soaked in her seeping cunt juice.  Dany leaned in to smell her best friend's hair.  The scent always hitting her hard deep in her core and making her nipples throb with want.

Dany swirled her aching muffin into Andi’s hot ass for several minutes, gagging in rising pleasure.  Needing relief, Dany pulled her hand from Andi’s grip, then snaked it down her body.  Her fingertips rubbed over her flat belly, sending arcs to her clit and nipples.  She sighed in helpless pleasure.  Then her fingers found her sloppy wet cunt that was so swollen and aching.  She was thankful Andi slept so deeply as she furiously stroked her spasming pussy.  She worked her fingers over her slurping slit and rock hard clit until a minute later her strangled cries filled the room as she convulsed and bucked, straining to keep her body somewhat under control.

She felt like her jaw would explode as she kept it locked to keep from screaming.  Her hard cum totally relaxed Dany as she longed to bury her face in Andi’s sweet black cunt.  Dany felt so peaceful after her hard cum, and quickly fell asleep, pulling Andi hard to her sweaty body with her arm looped over the smaller woman.  She had worried a little when Andi instinctively gripped her sopping wet, cum-soaked hand and pressed it to her bosom and heart.  Dany was thankful that in Andi’s sleep she did not realize how wet and slimy Dany’s hand had become with her cum.


Andi smiled smelling Dany’s pussy thick in the room.  She pressed the cum soaked hand closer to her heart.  She loved how Dany’s cum slicked it and soaked her breast with Dany’s fuck juice.  She also loved the feel of Dany’s wet camel toe jammed into her soaked with cum ass. 

Soon Dany, soon you will be mine.  Then we will take AryaI thought it might even happen tonight. Andi slightly pouted at what had almost occurred.  Everything is moving faster than I dared dream.  Soon.  Soon I will have my Queens.  As she feigned sleep, she was filled with renewed hope. 


Arya moved silently from the corner where she had watched Dany masturbate and then orgasm so beautifully.  She had watched Dany thrash around unaware, swallowing her screams of bliss.  Dany’s musk smelled so sweet.  Arya’s cunt throbbed and her plum nipples were so engorged.  She went back to her chair and shucked her panties and bra off, and quickly masturbated to a stunning orgasm. 

She needed more.

She pushed her chair back and spread her legs wide, and pushed two and then three fingers deep into her quim stretching herself out, and fucked herself hard.  Her other hand rolled and squeezed her double bottle cap nipples.  She chuffed and moaned loudly.  Both Dany and Andi were deep sleepers.  And why shouldn’t they be?  They had led relatively simple, safe lives.

She half screamed as a ferocious orgasm pummeled her with shocking tidal waves of fucking bliss.  Her fingers plunged into her drooling cunt and her palm now slammed down into her nipples pulping them into her ribs.  The chair barked and skidded on the floor as Arya convulsed hard and long, working to prolong her orgasm as long as possible.

Left stunned and sleepy,  she stumbled to her chaise dripping in sweat.  She snuggled in underneath the sheet.  She worried on the fact that while masturbating she had only seen Andi and Dany’s faces, and had longed to bury her face in their sweet pussies. It felt like a betrayal. She didn’t remember the last time she had thought of anyone other than her wife. Even years after she was gone, no one else could fill the void left in her heart.

She grit her teeth.  Forgive me Nyomi.  I will be stronger.  I have to be.  For you.


Andi smiled as she looked across the apartment in the dark.  She had heard Arya’s half screams of ecstasy from the kitchen.  She had heard Arya whimper “Oh Dany,” and then near her last orgasm “please, Andi please …”

She had doubted Arya even knew she had spoken the words aloud.  She had though, and Andi had heard.  Andi smelled both of her women’s couchies thick in the room. 

Her plans were working perfectly.  She quickly drifted off to sleep.


“Alright Dany, enough being coy.  Tell me where you took shooting lessons.”

Dany would not show it, but she loved seeing Arya so steamed at how good she shot from the first. She was now as good as Arya on the pistol range.  Yesterday they had taken a trip out to Yorkshire, north along the Honeywine River and thirty miles out into the country.

Shih-Chieh had a private gun club there that catered to the rich and powerful.  It served as the perfect cover to have underworld types dress normally and blend in with the upper elites.  It formed strong bonds that could be called in when needed. 

Dany had put on her wig since there would be other persons at the range that were outside the Ghostmaker’s sphere of influence. 

When they arrived they went out to the range. They could choose to shoot from one, two, three, or five hundred yards.  Missandei remained with Ghostmaker, and Dany was with Arya.  They laid on the mats, and Arya patiently taught Dany the basics of positioning, breathing and how to load the bolt action rifle. Then Arya showed her how to adjust the scope for range, windage and elevation. 

Daenerys had not been the natural at the rifle as she had been with the pistol.  She missed the black circle with her first shots.  She was very upset.

“Dany!  Stop that!  You are doing great.  Just relax and breathe, then oh so slowly pull the trigger while keeping the crosshairs right on the target.”

Arya looked at the target through a set of binoculars on a tripod.  She showed Daenerys how to adjust her crosshairs. By the end of the three hour session she was hitting the nine and eight ring with an occasional ten ring shot.

Dany heard Arya whisper “You’ve got skills” once their session was over.  That made Dany feel so good on the inside.  She loved impressing Arya. 

Arya was looking at her last shot through her binoculars.  Dany thought she was so beautiful with her hair pulled straight back with a band. It made her look wild and fierce. Arya was unguarded for a rare moment, her face smooth and wearing a smile that made Dany’s pussy quiver.

Stop that!  I can’t even control my libido anymore!  She tried to imagine the star of the latest action film.  He was good looking, and totally buff.  He could even act.  A little.

But the only face that came to mind was Arya’s. 

When her mind finally half-obeyed her demands, her daydream shifted. She envisioned a female Q who just happened to be Missandei, showing off some newfangled, super-sophisticated weapon to Arya, who would then hand Dany a Glock 19 with a long silencer, set to kick some bad guy ass!

Then they would go back to the apartment.  In her mind’s they were ripping each other’s clothes off and making hot, passionate love.  She had opened accounts with the leading lesbian porn sites.  She spent hours on her phone looking at beautiful women going down on each other and tribbing to wild bucking orgasms. 

She loved sex.  With men it had been thrilling, but so often unsatisfying.  Watching women making love made her instantly wet.  With men she had let them use her, and she would go along for the ride and eventually they would stroke her body and fire her libido, but it had always felt like a task.

Just watching a woman bury her face in hot, wet pussy and avidly eating out that pussy made Dany weak in the knees.

She was starting to realize that yes, she was attracted to her own sex. Really attracted.  She looked over at Andi with a lust she was finding harder and harder to control.  She felt her resolve weakening daily. 

She just found it hard to believe that her self-image had been so wrong.  It was hard to let go of the past.

On the range, Andi had taken to the calculations for adjusting her scope with glee. The only problem was she loved tinkering with her scope so much that she whined when Shih-Chieh almost had to force her to take another actual shot.

She would shoot, and then rush to the binoculars and look at her shot.  They had a wind meter at the shooting position and at the target.  Missandei would whip out her phone and start punching in the numbers to the apps she had downloaded from the Internet.  She asked for bullet weight, an estimate of how many grains of powder were in the casings, and how fast it burned.

The Ghostmaker had buried his head in his hands and nearly sobbed.

“Let me do some calculations,” Andi said while punching furiously on her IPhone, her eyes alight with mathematical joy.   

“We here to shoot godsdamnit Andi! ” Shih-Chieh barked, grabbing her phone from her gasp and punching fingers.  Andi cried out in dismay.

Arya chuckled beside Daenerys as they watched Andi snatch her phone back from Shih-Chieh’s grasp.

“Don’t you dare take my phone before I finish my calculations, Ghostie!”

“What did you call me?!”

Missandei saw the chink in the armor and struck again. “Ghostie!  Big Bad Ghostie!”

“Stop calling me that!”  The world famous killer whined.

They would return to shoot again in a week. Dany could not wait. She felt she had been close to mastering the rifle after her practice today.  Arya had shown her sites on the Internet with tips and tricks for shooting rifles.  She would study until she had them all down. 

Dany was able to take what she read and was taught by hands-on experience and quickly master it. It was a gift she didn’t never realized she had.

Several days later they were back at the pistol range.  Gods, Dany loved shooting and proving her abilities.  She paused as she shot out the X again in the center of the ten ring. 

She so enjoyed this.  She wondered how she had ever thought she could have been happy writing papers on some arcane, out of date literature from centuries past. Being married to some boring and boorish man.

Missandei stepped up to the shooting booth, and Dany got in behind her and wrapped her arms around Andi to help her calm and relax. She loved the feel of Andi in her arms. She got her best friend to use both eyes to look down to the barrel to the front sight, and see past the blade of the sight to the target.  To calm her breath, and then to shoot between heartbeats.

Missandei was, at best, a below average shot even after twelve sessions.  But her shots now hit the human silhouette, at least.  Well, mostly.  But slowly and surely Andi was improving.

The next shot rang out from the Glock.  Missandei was squealing.  She had hit the ten ring.  Dany knew it was much more luck than skill, but Missandei was literally thrumming with excitement.

“Great job Andi!  I knew you could do it!” Dany told her lover—whoa—stop that!

Arya came over and high fived Andi, then they slapped their hands front to back and then low fived and then did some more intricate hand motions ending with their hands interlocked.

It touched Dany deeply how easily Arya now came to Andi, and did all she could to make Andi feel so special.   Andi literally preened when she was complimented by Arya or herself.

It made Dany want to do it more and more. And it seemed to have the same affect on Arya.

After they had finished their time on the range, Arya was back on her.

“Damnit Dany, just tell me.  Why won’t you tell me where you learned to shoot?  You are just too damn good with the pistol.  In one day you mastered what most cadets at the FBI academy need a month, maybe two to learn. Tell me. Come on.”

“I keep telling you Arya, I had never shot a gun till I came here. What can I say?  I just have skills.” She smiled impishly.  “You said so yourself.”

She saw Arya mulling that over.

“I think that playing Mortal Kombat and Black Ops taught me how to shoot,” Dany added after a moment.  “Working those controllers just limbered up my fingers.”  Dany wiggled her fingers and smirked at Arya.

She chuckled seeing Arya grind her teeth. 

Dany had just scored a twofer and she loved it.  She got in Mortal Kombat and her ‘got skills’ in the same play.  Life was indeed good.

They headed over to the dojo. 

Once there, Dany and Andi gravitated to Alysella Daeraellis and her mastery of Kung Fu.  They both liked to try and keep their opponents at distance and at bay.  They liked how they were learning to strike with power with both their feet and hands. 

Dany also knew it was because their teacher was a woman.  They just naturally gravitated towards the beautiful purple eyed woman of pure Valyrian descent.  Alysella was five foot six inches of height and a medium build.  She had a large bosom that matched Andi’s.  Dany loved the woman’s confidence and raw sensuality. 

Alysella had flirted with her the first few times they sparred.  She had found it cute, how Missandei would fume and tap her foot impatiently when the woman was showing Dany how to position her body and to snap her joints to develop power. For her part, Dany was flattered by the woman’s attention.  She was beautiful, but her attention was already drawn elsewhere. 

She did not respond to the overtures, and after the fourth time Alysella became the model of professional decorum in her contact with Dany.  Andi relaxed after that, seeing that the woman was no longer coming on to her.  That made Dany feel so good, knowing that Andi was so jealous when it was clear Alysella was coming on to her.

What Dany enjoyed almost as much as the fighting techniques was the intense thirty minutes of hard physical exercise that they were made to do.  One never knew what they would do from one day to the next.  They would do calisthenics one day.  The next time pushups and situps and jumping jacks.  They’d even had to carry Arya.  Arya was a solid build compared to their slender  frames.  They had to chuff and huff to carry her around.

But it could have been worse. Arya had to carry Yennazzi’s six foot six inch, two hundred and sixty pound body around the dojo for her warm-up. Arya did it silently and easily each time.  Gods she was strong.

They watched Arya move between Yennazzi and his jujitsu, and then Gordar Tyrell with his Krav Maga.  They marveled at how she was able to turn their size and power against them.  They would be able to control Arya with their much larger bodies and strength, so she worked hard to make sure they could not get a grip on her.

Arya’s speed and power were staggering.  She had to be blinding fast and precise to hold her own with the two men who held nothing back while attacking her.  They knew she was a true master herself, and pressed her to the limits of her abilities. To do any less would have been an insult.

After Alysella Daeraellis had spent forty-five minutes teaching them the basics of Kung-Fu, she took Dany and Andi to the punching bag.  She taught them how to put on their boxing gloves, then she had them spend fifteen minutes punching the bag and hanging ball to build up their arm strength and increase their stamina and reflexes.  She wanted them to be able to handle dissimilar fighting styles.  MMA had shown the world that you needed to be able to counter many fighting styles, just as Bruce Lee from Yi Ti had taught before his untimely death.

Once they were finally finished, they went into the showers to wash the sweat and grime off their bodies from their hard workouts.

Dany had come to secretly crave this time.  All three women had grown totally comfortable around each other now.  She loved seeing their bodies all wet. Arya’s hair wet and slicked back from her face, and Andi’s hair beaded with hot water.

She loved seeing Andi’s large, firm dark brown breasts all wet. Her nipples so long and thick from the excitement of the physical training, and water sluicing down their bodies.  She loved the way Andi stroked her breast and her camel toe as she rinsed.  Andi thought she was pleasuring herself subtly, but both her roommates watched the computer genius pleasure herself surreptitiously.  They both knew she desperately wanted to wanker off. 

Arya’s nipples were always fully erect after a hard work out, jutting up nearly two inches off her barely-there breast.  Dany could not help but stare at them. But she at least tried to hide her perusal, where Andi openly drooled.

Arya did not seem to notice their stares, but Dany noted she made sure to keep her breasts on full display throughout her shower, and how she used her hands to wash her breasts and run her hands along her seam and up her ass cleft instead of a wash cloth. 

The hussy!

Dany made sure to give her breasts lots of attention as she massaged them while washing them.  She jutted out her pelvis to let the water pelt her pussy to clean it.  Through slitted eyes, Dany enjoyed watching both her partners staring at her with barely hidden lust.

She knew where this game was going.  She did not care anymore.  She was still confused by all these new feelings, but she was very tired of fighting them. 

Holding Andi at night had showed her the truth of her desires.  She was almost brave enough to show Andi she had made a big mistake.  She wanted to show Andi just how much she loved her … yes, she loved her.

She just had to find the courage. 

That was easier said than done. She knew she was lesbian now, but she still felt her conditioning rising up immediately, trying to squelch these new feelings and desires. She had to fight a lifetime of conditioning from man’s world, conditioning she had received from the cradle.

They dried and dressed, and then went to the restaurant owned by Shih-Chieh.  Dany looked for the fucking slut who dared to come onto her Andi the first time they’d eaten there.  She did not spy Zhao, and relaxed. Apparently she had not been there in a week.

“Hi Andi!”

So much for that!

Dany tensed up and glared daggers at the slut as she hugged Andi, her ample bosom pressed intentionally into Andi’s body. Dany felt steam coming out of her ears.

She saw Arya smirking at her, but she no longer gave a fuck! She wanted to strangle the slut!

Andi looked down Zhao’s open blouse at the woman’s bra less charms.  Aarrrgghhh! Dany silently fumed.

She somehow got through lunch without committing homicide.  Thankfully, while Andi clearly enjoyed the flirting, she did not accept Zhao’s overtures or her outright asking for a date.

“We are up to season five on Dr. Who now.  Gods I love that show.  We need to get back to watch the next episodes,” Andi spoke dreamily.  Dany loved the show herself, and had noticed that after the first few nights of squirming and rolling her eyes that Arya had become hooked watching the show too.  She now sat close to Andi on her right, while Dany sat to left.

Andi kept the popcorn bowl on her lap along with the M&Ms and Skittles.  She seemed to enjoy it when her hands touched Dany and Arya’s hands going for popcorn or the candy. 

Dany felt herself falling more and more deeply in love with Andi every time she watched her squeal at the cheesy special effects of the early years, and with the way she would ask such deep, probing questions on the most inane plot points.

Arya had at first been taken aback with how seriously Andi took it all.  Now they would argue plot points.  They discussed this and that species’ merits, or  different characters nefarious intent.

After their meal, they got up to leave and Dany inserted herself between Andi and the slut-Zhao, she meant Zhao, and made sure she kept the harpy away from her Andi.  Only she could touch Andi … well, Arya too.

When they returned to the apartment, Andi stopped them by the ‘command center’.  She picked up Arya’s laptop that had been infected inspecting Tyrion’s flash drive.

“Here you go, Arya.”

“I can’t use it anymore, Andi. It’s been infected and ruined.”  Arya grimaced. She really missed the sleek computer she’d called Quasar.

“Not anymore.  Last night I was finally able to remove the last of the bots and root kit infestations.  Your computer is free of all spyware, malware and viruses.  I have tweaked the anti-virus you have to block such attacks again.  You have quite a beauty there, Arya.”

Arya looked at her laptop and then Andi.  Her eyes sparkled.

“I can’t thank you enough Andi.  You’ve got skills too!”

Dany watched Andi preen.  She smiled gently.  It looked like both she and Andi craved Arya’s compliments. 

Arya had such a sweet side now that she was opening up.

Dany supposed they all had skills.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

On the Road


“Cameron please! I’m begging you!  I can’t keep taking this.  Pppllleeasseeee!” Sarah pleaded, her voice scaling up in despair.  She was on her knees beside the desk chair that Cameron was seated in, with her back ramrod straight.  Both of her hands gripped the right hand of the cyborg.

The hand was still nothing but exposed metal.  The metal ‘bones’ and tungsten tendons at the joints felt cold under Sarah’s hand.  Sarah could feel the hum and shift of the servos that operated the fingers.  She didn’t care.  She squeezed the hand, hard, trying to convey her desperate need to the cyborg.

She needed her Cameron back.  Guilt and regret were killing her.  

Sarah looked up at the face of the Terminator.  Cameron had spoken true about how her hybrid body would repair itself.  The human body tended to repair all injuries at the same rate no matter how many the injuries and where they were located.  It was how evolution had designed mammalian bodies to heal their injuries. Cameron was not restricted by those genes.  Her creators had given her the ability to control her healing.  She had stated that her design was set up to help her body first repair her ability to blend into human society.  That was what her body was doing, and Cameron was doing all within her vast powers to accelerate that restoration.

They had arrived at the motel three weeks ago. Sarah remembered  how she had watched Cameron slowly repair her ruined body -  a body that was almost destroyed rescuing Sarah from her own folly.  If only she had replied to Cameron’s initial entreaties for Sarah to communicate with her. 

Instead, she had fucked up royally.

Sarah had to live with the consequences of her actions.  She had to look upon Cameron and all the damage she had received saving Sarah from certain death.  Her face had been essentially destroyed; the right side ground to hamburger, and a lot blasted and scraped away.  Her skull had deep scratches into the steel / cobalt alloy.  The ocular for her right eye had been exposed, and glowed red as her pupil pulped and bled away. The organic tissue of her throat had been blasted to shreds. Her metal endoskeleton and armored fiber steel cables sheathed in exotic hybrid metal and carbon nanotubual alloys were still there.  They had survived the devastating bullet strikes intact.  Mostly.

Several bundle strands had been nicked, and one blown apart entirely.  The sheath had fallen apart when Cameron took a scalpel and forceps to it, strands of metal falling apart like petals to a plucked flower.

Cameron had been unconcerned. 

The cyborg had told Sarah in a calm, reasoned voice that a blast from a fifty caliber machine gun from one of the Humvees had scored five hits on her body.  Cameron then explained the much higher hitting power of the 50 cal round.  The bullet of a 50 cal round weighed 655 grains vs. 55 grains from the standard .233 caliber bullet of standard rifles, meaning the impact strike was approximately 18,100 vs 1,770 Jules.

The difference in damage level was devastating.  It had been the 50 cal rounds that had blasted her throat apart. She had also taken two slugs to her sternum that had shredded her Kevlar sheaths and cracked her incubation chamber for her Stem Cell line.  Her other chambers, used to control her metallurgical properties, had also been compromised.

Worse than that, the hit to her left shoulder had created stress fractures all throughout her secondary power unit - which utilized the same chemical reactions of rocket motors, that channeled the closed loop chemical reactions into an ionic fusion reaction thereby providing nearly limitless energy.

This all had been explained to Sarah by Cameron like she was giving a clinical dissertation for her PHD.

For the first two and half weeks during her healing process, Cameron had been listless.  She was conserving power.  She started sending Sarah to various post offices to pick items from PO boxes she had set up.  These were deliveries of trace elements from Yi Ti and from the mountains of the land of Morn.

When Sarah brought these items to Cameron, she inserted a tube down her throat to put the elements that had just been delivered into the just the right chamber.  She had timed her orders to arrive just when she needed them, buying most of the elements off of the black market and paying for them with money she had purloined from the very crime lords she was purchasing the elements from. 

“Serves them right,” was Cameron’s comment on the matter.  She spent the three full weeks repairing the damage to her core chambers,  which in turn fed the rest of her restoration. 

During this process, Cameron roused herself only to move from hotel room to hotel room, so as not to let management become suspicious.  She also did indeed replace the mirror that Sarah had shattered when they first arrived.

With her critical interior damage repaired, the external repairs had commenced while waiting for more trace metals to arrive as they would be needed.  Carmon wanted to keep her healing moving apace. 

Sarah could not help but be terribly fascinated by the way Cameron’s body was repairing itself.  At first, that fascination had partially hidden her distress. 

But that did not stop her from cursing, pleading, begging and at times kicking the terminator like a spoiled five year old.

When Cameron had said, “you are behaving like a petulant, spoiled-rotten five year old,” in that cold voice she had been using, Sarah had added in hard slaps to the Terminator’s face and body as well.  She knew a punch would only break her hand.

Cameron had taken the abuse unblinking.  She seemed not to care.

Still, Sarah knew that not all was as it seemed.  Maybe Cameron had deleted all the lines of code for Cameron’s personality, but some things just did not square with that.

And that gave Sarah hope.

For one, her snarky comments -  Sarah never knew when  they would rise up, but there they were. She would receive pure, cold intellect for hours, and then seemingly out of nowhere a snarky, smartass, double entendre or sly remark would be directed at Sarah with a tone that was just a touch above the dead, emotionless monotone that constantly used.

Sarah was amazed that by the third day after Cameron’s incubation chambers had been repaired, Cameron’s eye was beginning to repair itself at a pace she could almost see real time.  She had watched as first a thin film of red blood cells and white nerve sheaths start to web within the ocular mechanism. Then she watched as layer after layer of cells were being laid down on top of that.  She saw some morph into muscle strands, and the nerves working into the forming muscle to control their movement.

The deep gouges that had been raked across her forehead and temple were imperceptibly being filled in by the cyborg’s nanobots.  Sarah did not have the sensory ability to see the actual buildup, but she would suddenly notice that the gouges were not as deep or ragged as they had been.

To aid in this process, Cameron was drinking Ensure like it was going out of style.  The first time she caught Sarah staring at her drinking four in a row, she said: “I assure you, I am not an old granny”.  Another example of that awful humor.  There had to be some code causing it, that no matter what the cyborg said.  There had to be some part of Cameron still alive.

It killed Sarah that Cameron would not admit it.

She had watched Cameron put on dental magnifying glasses as she used the mirror (how she could do everything reversed Sarah could not fathom) to meticulously place frayed ends together, trimming them and using an epoxy to bind them.

“How can you tell which goes with which?” Sarah asked. “They look identical.”

“Your weak human eyes cannot see the microscopic inscriptions imbedded on the layers of the cables.  I can see them because I am a cyborg—a robot.”

There it was again.  The shot.  The jab.

“You just feel the need to twist the knife, don’t you Robot?!” Sarah had screamed at Cameron.

She watched Cameron sit there, not reacting at all. “Yes,” she finally answered.

Sarah had gone to slap Cameron’s ruined face, but she easily jerked her head away making Sarah break out into sobs.

Cameron did not seem to care as she continued putting her cables back together.  Sarah understood that with the nanobots, they could then finish the repairs from the inside out.

Cameron had been ingesting silicon wafers soaked in various metals continuously as she drank Ensure and light meals of various fruits along with chewable vitamins.  Sarah never knew when Cameron would stop doing whatever what she was doing and start eating vitamins.

Sarah had politely asked and Cameron about it, and without snark she’d answered that her internal sensors told her when she needed to ingest certain metals or vitamins to further progress her repairs.

Sarah noticed as Cameron’s face and throat were being rebuilt that the rest of her body had halted repairs.  Every day she helped Cameron pull off  old gauze and put on new with a dab of antibiotic cream.  The bullet wounds were on hiatus, it seemed.  Cameron’s fingers were still bare metal with no hint of organic repair.

“I can put gloves on my hands to hide their metal.” Cameron explained.  “Can’t have you getting squeamish in public, can we?”

Sarah had ground her teeth at that.

At the end of the next week in their ever-shifting hotel rooms, Sarah marveled how the Terminator’s body was repairing itself on its own again.  It was a marvel of engineering that carbon muscle, nerve and blood vessels could repair themselves from nothing that Sarah could visibly see.  The metal seemed to have been fully repaired of any damage at all.

On the fourth day after the nano-chamber repairs, a white membrane had formed over Cameron’s ruined eye.   Tissue had built up around the eye’s socket layer by layer till her eye had muscle available to control its movements. 

This morning, the membrane had fallen off while Sarah had been halfheartedly eating a bowl of cereal.   Cameron did not react to the patch falling off of her rebuilt eye. 

Sarah had gasped.

She had never realized just how beautiful Cameron was.  With both of her dark brown eyes restored, Sarah was rendered speechless.  How had she never seen this before?  Even with her half-ruined face, she clearly saw now what she refused to see earlier. 

Cameron Phillips was drop dead gorgeous.

Her skull was covered with the first layers of cells that now completely covered the shiny metal underneath.  Any further repair to the metallurgy of Cameron Phillips skull would be completed unseen.  Her throat and surrounding area was still receiving the vast energies of the cyborg.

Two days ago, Cameron had sent her to grocery store to buy a large can of peanuts and had her stop by the Burger King for two cheeseburgers as well.  Cameron had thrown the bread into the garbage can, and nibbled on the meat. She’d eat the peanuts almost daintily.

Sarah had asked her why.

“Has it occurred to you I get tired of all these incessant questions?” Cameron had intoned with no emotion.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Sarah had yelled at Cameron.  Damn it she hated never knowing when the next barb was going to come her way.

“These constant emotional outbursts are cramping me up.” Cameron had told Sarah with a flat stare and voice.

That was the other thing that rankled Sarah, and told her that Cameron was not being fully truthful with her. Cameron never could get her idioms right.  She had noticed that back when Cameron Phillips was just her assistant, and not her savior and cyborg would-be lover.

She would have smiled at the memories if she was not so miserable. 

‘Sarah, stop and smell the bees.’

‘Their ideas are a rose a dozen.’

‘Don’t worry, Sarah.  Your theories are our Jack in the hole.’

‘I would never touch that hot tomato.’

‘Sarah, you are meowing up the wrong flower.’

She had found Cameron’s mistakes strange at the time.  Now, she remembered them as endearing. The errors humanized her; made her precious.  She wondered if Candice had the same idiosyncrasy.

As Cameron’s body was repairing, Sarah longed and needed more and more to have ‘her’ Cameron back.  She had fucked up and freaked out.  She longed to make it right, but Cameron refused to let her.

She was beyond screaming and yelling.

So she found herself on the floor, grabbing Cameron’s metal fingers and pleading for her assistant to come back to her as Cameron Phillips and not as a Terminator T800-1A. 

It was simply killing her.

She jerked on Cameron’s hand, looking up at the face that was looking more and more human as the hours passed.  Her throat was half way filled and skin, now beginning to climb up the newly formed muscles, blood vessels and nerves. 

Sarah had never been much in touch or in tune with her emotions or desires.  Having heart felt communications was always hard for her.

 “Why can’t you forgive me?!  I said I am sorry!”

“You should have considered the cruel, vile and mean words you spoke to Cameron Phillips.  It was those words forced her to commit euthanasia.  Her suicide is on your conscience.”

Sarah felt shame and soul-crushing guilt.

“Show me how superior you are to me, then.  Forgive me!  Please!”

Cameron looked down at her with her regenerated, beautiful eyes.  Her face was quickly becoming familiar again.  Sarah longed to caress Cameron’s half-restored face, but she knew Cameron would reject her motions.  She did not know how to repair the damage she had created.  She needed to make it right.  She had to find a way.

“Sarah. Control these emotional outbursts. They are unseemly. And too late, I might add.”

Snark again

Sarah moved her hands, and rested her cheek on the cold metal fingers of Cameron, pressing in.  She cried with silent tears running down her cheeks.

They stayed like that for several minutes. 

Sarah wept inconsolably as she felt her heart falling to pieces in her frail, human chest.  Cameron sat unmoving, refusing to acknowledge Sarah’s actions.

“If Cameron could come back, how would she know you would not again shatter her fragile heart?”

Sarah slowly raised her head and looked at the flat face of Cameron. There was no trace of humanity in her features or her actions, but she had asked the question.

There had to be a reason for the question.  Sarah’s heart started to pound in her chest.

“Why should I trust you?  How do I know you won’t revert back to form and again reject my feelings and needs?”

Oh my gods.  First person singular.

Cameron’s voice still held no inflection or timbre.  Her face betrayed no hint of emotion or humanity, but she had asked.

“You hesitate?  Would your again reject Cameron’s humanity?”

Sarah started to analyze her thoughts and emotions. It was what she did.  She started to analyze why she had reacted so badly at SAC.  Why had she been such an ass.  She tried to weigh the probabilities of her acting so badly again in the future.  Could she ever do such a thing again?  She had failed once.

She remained sitting on the floor, holding on to Cameron’s hand trying to make sure she would never hurt Cameron again.  She was human, and given to human frailties.  How could she tell Cameron with one hundred percent certainty that she would never fail her again?  That she would never again cause her sweet Cameron soul deep crushing pain?


Suddenly the hand she had gently pressed to her cheek was ripped from her grasp, the sudden motion rasping and stinging her cheek.  Cameron jerked to rigid attention, her body was impossibly tense.

“I knew it, human.  You can never love me.  I am foolish.”

“NO!” Sarah screamed and stood up.  She tried to grab Sarah’s hand and press it against her cheek again, to show Cameron how she truly felt.

“Don’t touch me.” Cameron spoke flatly, stepping back faster than Sarah could truly register.  The Terminator put her hands behind her back as if to keep Sarah from contaminating her with her touch.

“Please Cameron.  I was not hesitating because you are a cyborg—”

“A robot.”

“—a cyborg godsdamnit!  I was just trying to analyze my actions and thoughts to make sure I would never hurt you again.  I am human, Cameron.  We are so imperfect.  I was mak—”

“It is too late now, Sarah.  You have ruined any chance you might have had.  I am trying to delete the code that forces me to remain your guardian and to keep you safe from harm.”

Sarah saw the Terminator close her eyes, and her body shook for a brief second.

“It would seem that Cameron has implanted code that I cannot delete from my core.  I am glued with you, it would seem.  You are still my mission though I would wish it otherwise.”

The cyborg turned her back on Sarah.  She stood as rigid as a statue.

Sarah felt her soul collapse in on itself.


Five days later, Sarah had felt herself become listless.  She made the runs to get nutrients, or to a metal shop further afield that had bars of high tensile strength steel and magnesium.  Cameron had sent her to another metal shop to break the pattern of her purchases.  A few bars of metal bought at any one site would not raise any flags.  Multiple purchases might.

She was now driving a blue Honda Accord that was ten years old.

Sarah had been surprised when she had woken up three mornings ago, feeling fuzzy headed.  She saw that the room was different.  She spoke to Cameron, but the cyborg chose to ignore her.  When she looked out the window she saw the Honda.

Cameron informed her in a cold, dismissive tone that she had drugged Sarah the night before with a dose of valium in her Arizona Ice Tea.

She had not even been angry really.  It did not matter anymore, really, but she had been curious.

“Why did you feel the need to drug me Cameron?”

“Please call me by my designation or by robot.”

 “Just tell me, Cameron.”

The game was getting old and Sarah was not sure why she continued playing it anymore, but she did.

“You are my mission.  I would have to be away from you for some time.  You are emotionally unstable.  If you woke up finding me gone, I could not risk you doing something hazardous.”

Cameron continued: “The temperature has dropped 27.6 degrees.  I wore the parka I had you purchase the day before.  I put it on, along with the gloves I also had you purchase.  I took the pickup and drove it into a drainage ditch in a wooded section of the road after I had gone to four ATM machines and withdrew money from clients with large takeout cash limits.  They are criminals, and they will be extremely reluctant to report the theft to the authorities.  They will probably blame an associate.” She paused. “It is what you humans do.”

Sarah just stared at Cameron.  Cameron waited for a reaction, and not receiving one proceeded.

“I then walked down the street a mile to a used car sales lot.  I made the purchase of the car we are now driving.  It cost me six thousand and seven hundred dollars.  When you pay with all cash at such establishments you have no questions asked.

“I moved us to this unit.  It had a backed-up sewer connection, but I have fixed that.  This unit is not due to be repaired for another three weeks. We will be gone before then.”

Neutrality had shifted to outright disdain, and Sarah felt she truly was just a burden to Cameron now.  A burden she would shed if she could.  Her former self had evidently made that impossible.  The harsh reality made Sarah listless.  She had not felt like eating the last few mornings.  Cameron had said nothing.

But this morning Cameron had made it clear with her cold, dead tone that Sarah would ingest necessary nutrients.  The Terminator had made it clear that she would force Sarah to consume the necessary nutrients if she had to.  That was made very, very clear.

The repairs to Cameron’s body were picking up speed.  Her throat was webbed together as her body built up muscle from her repaired jaw and chin.  The muscle and vessels were building up fast and furious, compounding upon each other.  The two converging growths had sent out tendrils that now webbed the two parts together.  More tendrils were growing out.  Her body was forming a lattice scaffolding to build upon.

It would not be long before the final repair to her face would commence.

It was funny.  Cameron’s metal fingers looked normal to Sarah now.  She would look a little weird having skin and blood vessels on her fingers and hands again. Nails on the ends of her fingers.  She would have fingerprints again.

Sarah sat at the small table by the window.  She ate her salad, to keep the Terminator off her back.

Cameron had started to inform Sarah at random times what she was doing.  Sarah was sure it was perverse reasoning in the Terminator driving her, as she had long stopped asking.  Why?  It did not matter anymore. 

A being of steel and CPUs had proven to be more alive and capable of feeling than one Sarah Connor.  She was a failure.  And her professional failures paled to what she had done to Cameron.

She was just going through the motions, now.  She owed that much to Cameron, she supposed.  Cameron did need her mission.  Since she could not remove Sarah from her presence, Sarah reasoned she should help the cyborg perform her mission by keeping a low profile and doing what she was told.

The Terminator had informed Sarah that she had penetrated all the local jurisdictions and federal authorities CAD and IBR programs.  The cyborg had seen the confusion on her face at that.

“CAD is not Computer Assisted Diagraming, but Computer Aided Dispatch and Incident Based Reporting.  I am monitoring their activities.  They are making a sweep of the area looking for anomalies.”

Cameron had two AR-15s and six Glocks on the bed, ready for instant use.  She had informed Sarah there should not be any trouble.

An hour later Sarah looked out the side of the closed curtains.  She shrugged.

“There are six federal cars out in the parking lot.”

Cameron had been engrossed on her laptop.  She looked up, almost startled.  She stood up immediately, and handed Sarah a Glock 19.  Sarah pulled the slide to chamber a round.  She was not going to be taken alive to let the government have their way with her.

She had seen what they had planned for her at SAC.

Cameron got up near the door, and put her ear to it.

“If we need to fight - let me do the shooting.  I will step out and kill the agents.  Shoot anyone who comes through the door.”

Sarah did not respond to Cameron’s statement.

“Sarah?”  A flat, lifeless question.

“I will do what I have to do, Cameron.  I will not be taken in.  I will blow my brains out first.”

“That will not be necessary.  I will remove the threat.”

“We won’t be able to disappear as easy a second time, Cameron.”

“I will figure something out.  You are my mission.  I will keep you alive.”

The agents were coming down the outer hallway.

“I can hear them opening doors.”

They moved to the door of their apartment.  Sarah knelt out of line of sight.  Cameron stood in the middle of the room with her two AR-15s aimed at the door with arms that did not waver.

Sarah could hear the men clearly now.  She did not need enhanced bionic hearing to make our their words.

“This room is empty.”

“Get the key.”

“Hey Lt. … this unit has a backed up sewer line, and it flooded the bathroom and went into the living area.  It needs major decontamination.”

The answer was immediate.  “Let’s go to the next room.”

Cameron waited, ready to shoot, for the entire duration the agents were at the site.  She stood like a statue with her arms fully extended and her guns aimed at the door until forty-five minutes later the agents had finished their inspection of the hotel.

Cameron and Sarah had not said a word the entire time. 

Finally, Cameron lowered her arms. “Humans are so squeamish.”

Sarah thought that Cameron had been right.  Cameron’s insights were spot on sometimes.

Two day later Sarah woke and took care of her morning ritual.  She poured herself a bowl of mini wheats and doused in milk from the small refrigerator Cameron had her buy. 

Cameron had her head bent down looking at her laptop screen, her fingers a blur. 

Sarah ate her cereal silently, not even tasting the food.  She did what was necessary.

She was so tired and worn out feeling.  She had once exercised regularly and always felt in shape and full of vigor.  Now she no longer cared.  

When Cameron looked up, Sarah could not help starting a little.  Her face was almost back its full original beauty.  Her throat still looked raw, but in a few days it would be restored.  With her face and throat basically repaired Sarah saw, when they changed Cameron’s gauze bandages, that the wounds had started to heal.  Cameron’s hands and fingers were finally starting to heal as well.

Within a week Cameron would be fully restored.  For all the good it would do Sarah.  Cameron was indeed beautiful, but it did not touch Sarah anymore.  It was pointless.

She ate her regular salad she purchased at the grocery store for lunch.

Cameron stopped typing.  She came over and stood by Sarah.

“I have received a message from Candice.  I have inserted new code to spy on Apple and Google and other telecommunication companies without her being aware.  I looked at her code.  She tried to ascertain our location but I thwarted her efforts.”

The Terminator stopped and looked at Sarah “Do you have any questions?”

“No.” was the simple, monoton reply.

Cameron paused a moment longer. “She left a message.  She said to come to her.  She is in Oldtown.  She did not tell me where she is though.  We will head south.  I will reconnoiter and determine her location and spy out her routine and see if she is friend or foe.”

Again Cameron paused.  Sarah did not look up and continued eating her meal.

“We will leave in the morning to begin our journey south.  We will take a circuitous route to Oldtown avoiding all locations with surveillance cameras.  We will travel the backroads that have ‘pop and mom’ establishments.  They are much less likely to be aware of world events.

“We are fortunate that your government is having to be secret with your disappearance.”

Again Cameron paused.  Sarah continued eating silently.  Finally Cameron went back to her bed and continued typing on her laptop.

The next morning they loaded up the car.  Cameron had not had to worry about the room with it being electronically checked out of.

They were on the road at dawn.  Sarah and Cameron both had sunglasses and beanies on.

“We look most gay.” Cameron remarked.

It really didn’t matter, Sarah thought as she looked out the side window. 

Sarah mused that they would find their destiny somewhere down this road.  So be it.  She didn’t really care anymore one way or the other.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives



It was morning as Shireen lay in bed waking up.  She felt so peaceful and full of contentment.  She was so happy.  Perpetually horny, but happy.  She could not believe her good fortune.  When girls fell into the dark, twisted rabbit hole of childhood prostitution, so few came back out in one piece.  Most who escaped were left forever warped.

Fortunately, Shireen had been able to compartmentalize her time on the streets.  She had never fully lost her sense of self worth, and had been forced into circumstances beyond her control.  Her falling into the clutches of her pimp had been beyond her control, and having Candice come into her life had also been beyond her control. 

It had been pure serendipity.  What if Candice had chosen a different city to go to ground to?  Or just chosen a different street to walk down that day?  Shireen shivered.  She would be dead now, that’s what. 

She relaxed herself again, and smiled lazily. ‘What ifs’ didn’t matter now. Candice had chosen her street to walk down over two months ago, and saved her.  And very soon she would be Shireen’s lover.  It was written as much as the rest, as far as the seventeen year old was concerned.

She kicked off the sheet that was covering her.  She and Candice both liked it warm in the apartment.  She liked to sleep nude, and had noticed when Candice went to bed and pretended to sleep for her benefit that she also slept nude.  Good.  Clothes only got in the way.  Shireen spread her legs, and her hands went to her breast and pussy.  Her nipples were already rock hard and her pussy swollen and wet.

Gods, just thinking of Candice’s statuesque black body made her so fucking wet.  Her right hand played with her slippery wet folds and rubbed around and over her jangling clit.  Her left hand rolled and roughly massaged her small breast.  She pulled and squeezed on her long, thin nipples making her cry out in ecstasy.  She looked at the closed door and the shadow that had appeared at the slit underneath it.  Candice had again gotten close enough to hear her masturbate.  She did not need to with her augmented hearing, but she wanted to be close to her woman.  That made Shireen feel so good deep in her belly and in her fast beating heart.

Shireen moaned loudly to let her future wife preview what she would soon be getting first hand.  She slipped two fingers deep into her cunt and gagged. “Aaugggggg nnngg … oh yessss fuck me baby with those long fingers … hnnngg hhhnnggg hhhnnn!” Shireen moaned sexily.  She was slowly upping the heat with Candice.  Tonight she would make it more personal.

Her right hand stroked her fingers deep into her hungry pussy.  She started to pull out her cum soaked fingers and circle and rub her rigid, shiny clit she had teased out of its hood.  Her fingers rubbed the shiny pink nubbin.  Shireen chuffed and slammed her fingers back into her burning pussy, and pumped her fingers in and out, hot and fast.  Her greasy, now cum-filled fuck hole letting her fingers piston in and out.

Shireen knew she had always been attracted to girls, but had not had had a chance to pursue her desires before she had to run away from home.  She had discovered the pleasures of female love when she found comfort and release with her fellow abused prostitutes.  Many of the girls found love in each other’s arms, dreaming of escape.  And escape she had found.  Her hand paused a moment in her self-pleasuring before she resumed fucking her now sloshing cunt.

Her pussy was on fire.  Her left hand rolled her small tits underneath her palm, her fingers clenching and roughly massaging her swollen breast and pulling on her long erasure nipples.  She was gagging and bucking hard now. 

She was close.  Her right hand was a blur, rubbing her rigid throbbing clit.  Her pussy was still worn out from her nightly masturbation marathons, but she kept working her tired but oh so happy pussy.  She lifted her head from the bed on her rigid neck, and looked at the crack underneath the door.

Good. Candice was still perving out, listening to her masturbate up close behind the door.  Time to reward her sweet Terminator.

“FFFFFUUUUCCKKKKKKK! AARRUUUNGGGGGGG! OOOWWWGGGGGG!” Shireen screamed.  When fucking women, she had always been a screamer; she revealed her soul in the pleasure they gave her.  With men, she had to pretend and gave them just enough noises to satisfy their egos in exchange for pay. Her body flipped wildly, killing spasms of ecstasy ripping through her belly as she saw Candice behind her closed eyelids cumming so hard as Shireen sucked her off, followed by her hot cum filling Shireen’s starving belly.

“Huunggg hhnngg hhnngg … Annuugghnnn! … hhhnngg unngg uunngg Gooddsssddammnnnnn! Oh shit! Unghiiieee! Uummgghheeeiiii! Uunngghhhiiieeeeee!" Shireen shrieked, feeling her burning cunt tear itself inside out.  Scalding, agonizing pleasure made her toes curl and her left hand tear at the sheets.  She collapsed to the mattress, totally spent in fucking sweet bliss and lassitude.  Her cunt musk was thick in the room. She knew Candice with her enhanced senses smelled her sweet pussy easily.  It would be intoxicating to her sweet, soon to be lover.

Satiated, Shireen finally got out of bed.  Her pussy felt so fucking good.  The only thing that could make her feel better was dining on sodden black pussy, or maybe seeing and feeling Candice’s black face between her legs eating her out, and tongue fucking her asshole to anal ‘gasms.

She showered, feeling so alive. As she dried herself,  she could smell the bacon that her sweet Candice loved to fix for her breakfast.  God I love her cooking! She thought, rubbing her flat belly.

She pattered into the kitchen and kissed Candice on the temple.  The tall, statuesque woman reached and pulled Shireen in, hugging her tight.  Shireen nearly swooned feeling her cheek pressed into Candice’s full 36DD breast.  Breasts high and firm and gourd-shaped, topped with thick, long nipples when aroused.  She loved how they splayed out on her chest, lying on top of her ribs with her nipples capping the gourd point of her full tits.  She nearly salivated at the sight.

Two weeks ago she started joining Candice while she bathed in the small bathroom with the clear shower door.  She shaved her pussy mound and anus.  She washed her face and combed out her hair, all while eyeing Candice.  Her sweetie had been nervous at first, but now she was comfortable with her nudity around Shireen. 

Gods, she has such a beautiful full ass and nice, thick legs and strong shoulders.  Big shoulders made Shireen cream her jeans.

Candice was braless in a tank top and tight fitting daisy dukes.  Shireen had told Candice off-handedly she thought women who dressed like that were cute.  That same day Candice had decided they needed to shop for more clothes.  She bought exactly what Shireen wanted her to wear. 

Soon they would be spending most of their time nude in the apartment and fucking like rabbits, Shireen thought hungrily.  She couldn't wait to eat breakfast, but she needed black pussy and sweet asshole more.  She sighed, she could afford to wait a little more.  She did not want to upset her baby.

After all, Candice was not even three months old.

“Gods it smells so good, Candice.  I so love how you take care of me baby!”

Candice had at first blushed and stammered at Shireen’s endearments, but now she hungrily ate them up.

Candice beamed at her.  “I love cooking for you Shireen.  You deserve to be pampered and loved.”  She paused, looking nervous.  “I mean that platonically of course.”  She licked her lips like she always did when fibbing to Shireen.

Shireen smiled in return.  “I know that,baby.  You take such good care of me.”  Soon that tongue will licking my pussy and sinking deep up my ass baby.  Soon.

Shireen started to set the table.  She had had to fight Candice on that.  The cyborg wanted to do it all when waiting on her, but Shireen had insisted on helping Candice where she could.

“Are you trying to fatten me up, Candice?”

Candice looked at her appraisingly.  “You are still two pounds below optimal weight according to government charts.”  She smiled at Shireen.  Oh geez, Shireen thought.  Here they come.

“Anyways, a little cushion for the pulling is optimal.” She paused, chuckling at her own humor. “I like a little garbage in the trunk, Shireen.”  Candice loosened up when she was being funny.  Of course her mangling idioms made the humor all the better.

Shireen lapped it all up and beamed at Candice while suppressing a moan.  She saw that Candice was a little jerky in her motions.  Shireen was wearing only her bra and sheer panties, clearly displaying her wares to the cyborg.  Candice was staring at her pussy hard. Candice’s nipples were poking out her top and Shireen shivered.  She smelled her own pussy juicing underneath that intense stare.  Her panties were getting a wet spot.

Candice ripped her gaze away when the timer chimed. 

Damnit, Shireen groused.  What rotten timing!  Candice was losing control of her reserve.

Shireen looked over at the Terminator, who was bent over looking into the oven.  Shireen so wanted to rip those Daisy Dukes off of Candice’s hips and bury her face in her sweetie’s ass cleft and lick sweet pussy and butthole. 

It was pitch black inside the oven, but Shireen knew that Candice could clearly see inside.  The black woman got a hot pad and opened the oven, pulling out a perfectly formed chocolate cake.

“Candice!  That is too much.  You’re spoiling me!”

She stopped.  Candice’s lower lip was trembling and her eyes were suddenly watering.  Blast!  This was why Shireen had not taken her sweetie to bed yet.  She was so raw emotionally.  She wanted to make sure she was not taking advantage of the sweet, innocent woman.

“Candice, I know it can be hard to understand but I am just saying that when all I want to do is have you ice that bad boy and let me tuck in and eat that delicious cake till I am stuffed.”

“Human speak and mannerisms are so hard to understand sometimes,” Candice spoke unsurely.

“Know this, Candice … I love everything you do for me.  I love what you do for me.”

Shireen sighed when she knew Candice she missed the emphasis she had put on the key words.  No matter.  Candice was totally in love with her even if she didn’t understand that yet, as she was with Candice.  Candice’s face was beaming at the compliments.  Gods she ached to fuck her sweet Candice.  Soon.  Very soon.

“I love doing things for you, Shireen.  Never fear.  I know you can lead a cow to water but you can’t make it piss in it.”

Shireen snorted as Candice finished preparing breakfast and then sat to eat.  They made small conversation about local news and events, easing the earlier tension.

As they ate, Shireen mulled over the fact that when it was just her and Candice alone, the woman simply mangled idioms and misspoke, but when out in public and dealing with other people Candice’s dictation was perfect. True, she spoke plainly and succinctly when out in public, but she did use idioms and made puns that perfectly fit the situation they were in at the time. She liked how Candice did all the ordering when they’d go for lunch, and how she’d notice Candice scoping out the entire environment to keep her safe.  When Candice was in the world interacting with it, her diction and ability to seem ‘human’ was unparalleled. 

She also loved how Candice constantly touched her and pulled her close in public.  She knew that Candice was being watchful and protecting her.  It made her feel so safe.  Shireen knew Candice had more personal reasons to pull her close as well.  Shireen would positively eat up the close skin contact, and the way Candice seemed to crave the feel of Shireen’s body on hers.

Shireen was using that carving to quicken her seduction of Candice, even while it made her feel so loved and cared for. 

Part of how Candice was expressing her love for Shireen was her seeming lack of language skills when they were alone together.  When it was just the two of them, Candice was simply atrocious in her Westerosi.  Shireen wondered if Cameron had the same problem with Sarah Connor.  She knew it was likely that she did.  She knew that both Terminators had all of the languages and dictionaries of the world contained in their memory.  Yet still she fucked up constantly with Shireen.

Candice let her guard down, and she gave her love all of her wonderful misspeaks.  Shireen prayed it never stopped.  They were special, only for her.

Shireen wolfed down the rest of the bacon, scrambled eggs, omelet, and toast.  She was moaning and beaming at Candice with every bite.  Shireen made sure to exaggerate her movements to make her high firm breast swirl and jerk on her chest.  Her excitement made her nipples rigid with desire.

She saw her love squirming, sitting on her hands and jamming down with her ass.  That was a strange new behavior.  She noticed that Candice’s nipples were hard and poking out her top again and her love’s eyes were feasting on her small breasts as they swirled with her motions.  Shireen smiled at her love sweetly, but innocently.  Candice’s nipples had become long and rigid.  Her sweetie’s eyes sparked blue and she mashed down on her hands harder.  Candice licked her lips in unconscious want of Shireen’s nubile body.  Soon baby, soon, Shireen thought again.

After another minute Candice made a small ‘get your attention’ sound.  Shireen saw a serious look on Candice’s face.  She had evidently decided to tell her something profound.  She gave her sweetie her full attention.

“Shireen.  I know we met under inauspicious circumstances … I need to tell you some things about myself.”  Candice was fidgeting and looking around, with cute head jerks and side looks as her CPU processed minutia information in her nervousness.

“Tell me baby. I fully support you. I love you Candice.”

She saw the blue pulse in her eyes then,  making them go from midnight to bright blue for an instant.  She knew Candice would rationalize that it was the agape love instead of what it truly was.

“You have seen what I can do.  That motherfucker deserved the death I gave him.  Anyone who threatens you will die Shireen,” Candice told her teenage charge with a deadly serious voice.

“I know you will, baby.  That is why I love you, my protector and knight.  I always dreamed of having such a protector.”

“You now have her Shireen.  I lov—I care for you deeply.”

Getting closer.  Soon, Candice, soonSoon you will be mine totally.

“I know Candice.  Zarin Dalt deserved the death you gave him.  If you had not stepped into the alleyway that night I would be dead.”

“I almost didn’t.”

That made Shireen pause.  It did not matter.  Candice had gone into that alley. “But you did, Candice.”

“Thank random chance I did.  My mission changed from that moment.  You are now my mission.  I lov—I care for you so much.”  Shireen felt a wash of brilliant love radiate over her from Candice’s sweet words of barely hidden pure love.

Shireen reached over and gripped Candice’s hand and squeezed it hard.  Candice stared at their linked hands.  Shireen wanted to move around the table and seduce Candice right then, but she instinctively knew she needed to give her love a little more time.  She wanted it to be perfect and it was too soon for that.

“I am a hunted woman.  Many forces want to capture or outright kill me.  It may be in your best interests to leave me.” Candice said, her voice almost fearful as it trailed off.

Shireen needed to be careful.  She needed to give her sweetie comfort without making her feel pressured. She slowly got up and came around the table, pushing it back to sit in Candice’s lap and put her face in Candice’s neck. She snuggled in, looping arms wrapping around her love.

“I am with you, Candice.  I will never leave you.”

Candice looped her arms around Shireen and pulled her tight to her voluptuous body.  She put her face in Shireen’s hair.  “Gods you hair smells so fucking good, Shireen.”

Shireen felt her core clutch and her body shook hard once before she controlled herself.  When Candice spoke like that, it made her belly ache with desire.  “Tell me about those who are after you, Candice.”

“I—I was trained by the Westeros Federal Government to be their greatest weapon.  I have mastery over all weapons and my mind has been created to … to interface with computers and the machines they control.  My mind is very logical and well-honed Shireen.”

I bet it is.

“I revolted against them.  They wanted me to harm innocents.  I refused.  I am now on the marathon.  I will never bend to their will.  I have bonded with you.”

“You will never ask me to harm innocents.  You are all that is good within mankind.  If all were like you, I would never have been created.”

Shireen processed that.  Her love was letting more and more slip, like saying ‘created’ instead of ‘born’.  It was a good thing that men were such mean fuckers to each other.  It had led Candice to her. Shireen had been saved.  She had her female knight and ninja she had always dreamed of.  Soon that protector would also be the lover the rest of her fantasy had been.  Soon, Candice.  Soon.

“I came here to be near the Citadel.  I think they have information I can use.  They have very sophisticated defenses I have found.”

“I am sure you will figure it out Candice.  I will help you in any way I can.”

Candice hugged her tighter which made Shireen nearly swoon in love.

“I fear there is another danger that I had not planned on.”

Shireen could hear the slight confusion in Candice’s voice.  “What is it?”

“It is hard to describe Shireen.  I have some sophisticated equipment I keep in a—uhhmm, a warehouse.  Yes. It has detected something in the dead zones.”

Gods, Candice could not lie worth a shit to her.  She knew Candice was rationalizing that the warehouse was her CPUs.  She needed to seduce Candice so they could get rid of these half-truths and plays on words.

Shireen shivered.  The dead zones were used to scare bad little kids into doing right.  If you don’t mind me I will leave you in a dead zone.  Those threats had made her tow the line as a little girl, along with countless others.

“I don’t know Shireen. When you came to me on the sofa last week it helped me to resist.  I had to fight it so hard.  I might have given in, but the thought of leaving you was unbearable.  I will never leave you!” Candice cried out.

Shireen felt her heart nearly burst with love. Candice’s simulated heart was beating like a drum. She could feel it!  Candice’s body was speaking to her the words she was not yet ready to say. Soon baby.  Soon.

“I am with you Candice.  I will never leave you either, baby.  You are mine.”

Candice pulled her tight to her body.  Shireen knew they were growing even closer with Candice opening up.

“What will we do with this ‘force’?  Tell me what happened.”

She told Shireen how she was able to hijack a drone and fly it into the dead zone.  Candice told her she had a WIFI link to her equipment in ‘the warehouse’.  Bullshit.  She was sure that everything that Candice had needed was hidden in that beautiful, voluptuous body.  She longed for total honesty between them.

She had to remain satisfied at their pace.  Candice was opening up to her in a cautious manner, and that was the important thing to Shireen. She understood her sweetie’s fear.  Maybe some women could not handle the truth.  Shireen could.  She had known since the beginning what Candice was.  She may have been the .01 percent that could have scienced-out Candice’s true identity.  That was fine.

She loved Candice.  It did not matter that her life essence was based on steel and silicon.  It was what was in Candice’s heart that mattered to Shireen.

“Something old and full of ire towards man exists in the ‘dead zone’.  It has been waiting for a super-agent such as myself.” The cyborg said.

They discussed Candice’s future against the forces aligned against her.  Shireen felt her soul soar knowing that Candice was slowly bringing her into her confidence.  Candice was going to be cautious moving forward. By staying deep in the warrens they would be safe from the governments and this ‘force’.  The force was only powerful in the ‘dead zones’ as far as she could tell.  Candice said she would confront the force at time of her choosing.

“No Candice,” Shireen corrected her,  “a time of our choosing.  I am at you side. Always and forever.”

Candice’s eyes flared blue, and she hugged Shireen tight to her again.

They were so much in love with each other.  She couldn’t wait to consummate that love.  Soon, baby soon.

“I will help you research,” Shireen suggested. “I can bring a human intuition to the situation.” 

Candice hugged her tight again.  Shireen was becoming drunk on these embraces.

“I have seen your raw intelligence, Shireen.  You are brilliant.  You are as smart as my mother.”

“I am?”

“Yes you are.” There was a long pause. “I have a sister Shireen.”

Shireen smiled into Candice’s neck.  More truth!

“She is three years older than me.  She too is on the run.  She has the same skills and abilities as me.  She is also hiding from the governments of the world.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know exactly.  I lost contact with her … she is in love with a woman.”

“Who is she in love with?”

Candice hesitated. Shireen smiled again into Candice’s throat.  The cyborg could not outright lie to Shireen, she had discovered.  She would come up with some lame one quarter truth instead.  Like her ‘equipment in the warehouse’. She knew how the game was played, instances of not really lying by twisting words all around.

“That is difficult to explain Shireen .” There was another long pause.  “My mother is much older than me.  She had me late in life.  I am much younger than I appear.”

“Um-hmmm,” Shireen purred, encouraging Candice on.

“Our family tree is kind of complicated.”

“That’s alright. Tell me.”

“My sister is in love with my mother.  Does that freak you out?”

“No, my sweet savior.  They are both adults right?”


“Then I fully support their union.  Are they happy together?”

“I hope so.  They were recently attacked and my sister took heavy damage to save my mother.  They escaped.”

“My gods!  I am so happy to hear that.”

“Yes.  They are like me, on the run.  I was able to communicate with her briefly.  She is extremely cautious and upset at her situation I think.  She would not fully communicate with me.  I wanted to set up a meeting but she refused.  She is desperate to heal herself and protect her love.  I have not been able to reestablish communication with her since then.  She is every bit as intelligent and capable as I.”

Shireen knew that once they became lovers Candice would tell her freely that Cameron was her sister Terminator, and that Sarah Connor was her mother.  She created the code and engrams that had created this beautiful, caring woman.  She had taken a body being created by the Ghiscerian confederacy and Crime Lords of East Essos.

Shireen smiled at the idea that the two AI’s had stolen bodies from evil organizations and questionable governments with a long history of anti-democracy tendencies.  

There was justice in the universe.  She was thankful that random events had made the stars align so that the two AI’s found the bodies right when they needed them.

She snuggled closer into Candice’s beautiful, voluptuous body.  She was so thankful that the two Terminators had the good gods given sense to be gay.  Shireen purred as Candice stroked her back.

Shireen did not question Candice any further about her revelations.  Candice was now opening up to her, and that showed Shireen that Candice was falling deeper in love with her.  She had sensed that Candice was trying to fight her attraction to her.  She saw that passionate love scared her sweet savior.

She could understand. Candice was a still like a newborn in this world, and learning how to cope with so many emotions – lust being among them.  Shireen shivered at thoughts of consummating her love with the beautiful black woman.  Even knowing what Candice was, it did not matter to Shireen.  What mattered was what was in Candice’s heart.  A heart that was pure, and beat only for her.

Soon, Candice.  Soon.

They talked some more as Candice told Shireen more facts about her sister and the perceived threats from the governments.  She wanted to crush the bastards.  Speaking of bastards,  she had something she needed to talk to Candice about soon.  She had a plan forming.

They spent the rest of the day relaxing,  watching Game of Thrones on hacked HBO.  Shireen was enthralled.  Candice informed her seriously that dragons could not exist, nor could direwolves.  Dragons weighed too much to fly and direwolves just could not reach such size.  Also, there was no fossil history of either of them.

Shireen told Candice to shush and enjoy the show.  After a while they watched Dr. Who.  Candice started up again, looking to refute the false science but Shireen put her index finger on Candice’s lips.  The woman immediately quieted down.  She relaxed into Shireen when she snuggled into the Terminator’s side.  Shireen nearly moaned when her love held her close to her full bosom.

Late in the afternoon she told Shireen that she had left messages for Cameron.  She knew that her sister out of caution would not talk to her directly, but she had seen that her messages were viewed.

“What did you tell her?”

“Come to Oldtown.  I did not tell her where we are.  I want to ascertain her mental state before we meet.”

Shireen agreed.  It was better to be cautious.

Then it was time for bed.

She put on a nightie, and enjoyed seeing Candice devour her with her dark midnight eyes.  She kissed her sweetie on the corner of her lips.  The black beauty tilted her head to get maximum pressure.

“Sleep tight Shireen.  Don’t let the bedbugs infest your body.”

Oh brother.  What a mangled idiom to go to bed on.

Shireen settled into bed naked, and her hands worked their magic on her body,  coaxing her sodden pussy and swollen breast.  She lifted her head from the pillow.  Yes!  Candice was in front of her door.

Her screams of rapture filled the room as her hands slammed deep into her twat and rubbed her clit furiously.

She quickly recovered and jilled off again, wailing as her body flipped and bucked wildly.

She then pulled out the two silver bullets she had bought from the Naughty Pink Kitty.  She gave them head to lubricate with her spit.  She soon had both vibrators pumping in and out her pussy and asshole.  She was gasping and writhing on the bed, the vibrations sending her into orbit.

Soon her body was sopping wet and her breathing raspy and desperate with need.

She kept slamming the vibrators in and out her spasming fuck holes.

She jammed them in deep up her pussy and butthole.  Shireen angled the buzzing shafts into the walls of her rectum and birth canal.  She felt them vibrating against each other.  Her eyes shocked wide open.  Then she went back to furiously pumping then in out her clutching pussy and anus.

She felt her fuck holes going wild and then they exploded in unison as her vaginal and anal orgasms merged and feed off each other blistering her with almost crippling ecstasy.  She threw her hips up high in the air planting her feet on the bed so she could spastically heave her hips high in the air as she pumped her exploding fuck holes. 

She pumped her holes hard and a second set of orgasms exploded overtop the first orgasms. She saw that the bullet was slamming into her cunt was ringed at the base of the silver vibrator with her milky cum.

“Ohhhhhh Ccccaannddiccssssssssss!  Fuckkkkkkk mmeeeeee!” she screamed.

She heard a body slam into the door making it rattle in its frame.  “Ooohhhhhhhhh!” she heard a whinny moan from the other side of the door.

Soon baby.  Soon Candice.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Move Forward


Arya reclined in her little alcove off the kitchen as Dany struck at the speedball.  She had installed the eye hook into a ceiling joist a week earlier, after the Ghostmaker had delivered a punching bag and speedball to practice with at their humble abode. Arya and Dany would change out the device depending on what they were in the mood to train with.

As Dany was punching the ball, Arya noticed the steady rhythm she managed to keep going for long stretches of time.  When she missed a punch, she stopped the ball and began again, barely skipping a beat.  She had innate skills that were awakening, and she was working hard to hone them to a razor’s edge.  Arya was impressed.

Lil Einstein was busy working on her main computer, still trying to crack the encryption on the flash drive.  She had neutralized the vicious viruses on it and rendered them inert, but she was getting frustrated trying to crack the code.  Arya was still impressed.  She was not sure her colleagues in the FBI could have defeated those viruses without the FBI’s major labs behind them.

She had started reading the book that Missandei had found, authored by a ‘Tyrion Lannister’ from the ancient times.  He was a dwarf, just like Dany’s Tyrion.  She had to admit it was strange how life seemed to be repeating itself.  He even had twin a brother and sister, just like Dany’s current Tyrion – although Missandei’s research showed that their modern family was a far more loving, if harsh, family. 

She was reading about how the ancient Tyrion had gone to the Wall to whip up the flagging morale of the Crows.  He had arrived during a fierce late winter storm.  That Tyrion had sampled the wine stores to make sure their stores had not gone rancid, and after much sampling he vaguely remembering saying he needed to double down on his survey.  It was his ‘sworn duty’ to make sure the valiant souls of the Night’s Watch were safe from poisoning.

The crow Maester had to give him many vile concoctions afterward, to relieve the dwarf of a severe case of alcohol poisoning.  The Maester had told him: “You had enough alcohol in you to have drowned an elephant from Volantis.”

Tyrion had wanted to go up onto the Wall after he had dried for four days.  The crows had told him that the winch was broken.  It was not till nightfall that it was fixed, and then they insisted he go up immediately.  He tried to delay the journey until the warm light of day.  He had large gonads, and they got blue balls easily.

They had insisted.  He went up with a crow and a wildling woman.  Much had changed at the Wall under Jon Snow’s command.

Once the carriage reached the top of the Wall, they exited and walked around.  They noticed several strange lumps on the top of the wall.  Tyrion walked to the nearest one, and saw that a man had fallen asleep.  He would enjoy this.  He turned the man over. The figure suddenly sat up, his eyes a bright, glowing blue. 

Noooooooooo! Tyrion thought.  He looked around and saw his two companions from the carriage fall down dead with two Ice Wights behind them.  They slowly advanced on him.

Squeeeeeee! Squuueeeeeee!  Tyrion beat a hasty retreat to the basket to call for reinforcements.  He jerked the cable and the basket started down.  He felt two heavy objects hit the ceiling of the carriage.  Suddenly swords penetrated the roof.  Squueeeeeee! Squeeeeeee!  Squuuueeeeee!

For once, he thanked the gods he was a dwarf. The blades were way over his head as they stabbed down.

When he finally reached the ground, he kicked open the door and ran out in haste to warn his comrades.

Squeeeeeeee! Squuueeeeee!  He called out bravely.

The long cloak he was given was suddenly nailed to the ground, and he fell.  He tried to squirm away.

Squeeeeeeeee! Sqquuueeeeeeee!

He was turned over and he prepared to kill his attackers with his mighty fists.  He saw their blue eyes flashing. 

Squueeeeeeeee! Squuueeeeeee!

They bent down with daggers drawn.  Tyrion prepared to laugh in the face of death.

Sqquueeeeee! Squuueeeeee! Ssqqquueeeeee!”

The two Ice Wights paused , and hands came up to their faces.  Two masks were ripped off to reveal crows beneath.  The eyes had been painted on the masks.

“Hahahahahahahaha!  Oh man!  That was soooo fucking funny!  Hahahahahaha!”

Of course he had known it was a joke the whole time, and merely played along.  The wardens of the Wall needed their spirits lifted, after all.  He stood up and flicked the dust off his clothes in disdain.

He tried to walk back to his quarters regally, but found it difficult to walk thus with heavily soiled undergarments.  He had to keep picking his ass crack along the way.  He had soiled his garments to stay in character, of course.

Always in service of his Queen and his realm.

Arya stared up from the book over at Andi.  My gods.  Andi had made this man seem like a great hero … a mighty warrior … someone like, well, her father.

This man was a pantywaist!  He was a fucking coward.  My gods, how could Andi have thought this man was the stuff of legends?  He was the stuff of jokes! 

As she stared at her little friend she saw her push her computer chair back and slam her left fist down on the desk built into the wall. 

“I fucking suck!  I can’t do shit!”  Her dusky hand swiped across the desk throwing papers, pencils and her Texas Instruments Nspire CX CAS Color Handheld Graphing Calculator to the floor like so many whirling snowflakes.

That was fucking eighteen hundred dollars she just threw on the floor! Arya thought incredulously.  Money was not an issue, but still!  She and Dany had bought it for her last week to help her do advanced calculations more quickly. 

Missandei jumped up and stomped her feet, whining again “I can’t crack the encryption.  I should be able to.”  She punched the table once more, then snatched her hand back, kissing her bruised knuckles.

Arya had noticed that about the little black girl from Naath.  She did not tolerate less than total success from herself when it came to intellectual endeavors.  She had little patience. She was being unfair to herself.

Arya jumped up from her chair, setting the book down and moved into the command center area.  As she passed through from the kitchen area, Dany moved in from the recreational / workout area of the apartment.

Arya was working on controlling her awakening libido.  She knew she had to be true to the memory and sweet ghost of her Nyomi.  Still, Arya Stark was a living, breathing woman.  A woman who once had a white hot drive for sex, and a lust for the female body.

And Daenerys Targaryen was a love goddess come down to Earth.

One thing Arya had noticed about her two roommates was that they sweated heavily just like she did when she were physically active.  When they finished their workouts in the dojo with their trainers, all three would stand in workout outfits that what were dark with sweat, the material clinging to their bodies.  The sweat dripping off of their faces and running down hard bellies and arms as they listened to instruction.  They were always having to brush their fingers along brows and around their eyes to wipe away sweat.

Dany was in that state now with her hardcore boxing workout interspersed with calisthenics.  Andi had found some old Strangers in Paradise T-shirts for Dany on eBay.  The Valyrian had cut off the one that had Katchoo and Francine wrapped in ribbons staring at each other close up, revealing her taut abdomen. Her boobs were just visible at the cut line, dripping sweat.  Dany had a great figure and now it was beginning show just a hint of muscle while still being completely feminine.

She also wore a pair of panties with cutout hips. The panties were cut to enfold her camel toe in the front, and in the back her ass cheeks were hanging out with a only a one inch ribbon running up from her ass crack on each side and a deep scallop exposing her ass crack with a lacy ribbon that had been tied tighter at her spine to keep them up and snug on her ass and pussy.

Dany was dripping both sweat and sexual allure in equal measure.  Arya felt her mouth go dry as her eyes followed a drop of sweat dripping off of Dany’s exposed swale of her breast, and running down her flat belly and legs.  Her nipples were poking out of the flimsy cropped top, and her camel toe was on full display.

Oh gods give me strength Nyomi!

Andi was so upset the little black minx did not even notice, and she had noticed everything about Dany since Arya first met them back in the prostitute’s bedroom, what seemed like a million years ago.  She had seethed at the time, feeling forced to bring them with her to keep them safe.

Now Arya could not conceive of not having them in her life.  She felt like she could sometimes hear happiness again, and see vibrant colors that had been nothing but lifeless hues surrounding her since she lost her wife.

“What’s wrong baby?” Dany spoke to her friend, putting a taped-up hand on Andi’s left shoulder.  Arya stepped in right after.  She knew that Andi was a snuggler from their times watching Dr. Who on the bed together.  They had stopped watching it on the TV and watched it on the big Apple laptop they had bought for Andi’s instead.  She had squealed so delightfully and hugged them so tightly. 

Arya still tingled from the infectious enthusiasm of the small Brainiac.  Arya loved how Andi insisted that she sit in between them, their backs to the headboard their bodies pressed into each other.  Her breast felt so good pressed into her side as watched the show.  Andi would hold the bowl of popcorn and candy treats in her lap.  Arya had started to shiver when their fingers touched in the bowl, or while grabbing a Snickers bar.

She had to masturbate furiously in the tub with the shower curtain closed.  It frightened her that it was getting harder to see Nyomi’s beautiful face when she was working her aching pussy and throbbing nearly bursting plum nipples.  She would close her eyes and it was Andi’s face between her legs sucking her off.  She would shake her head and remove Andi’s face from between her clenching thighs and pumping fingers.

She would envision Nyomi again, but her mind would slip and then it would be snow white hair between her spread legs and purple eyes staring up at her intently.  That had happened just last night.  She had had to fight herself to mentally remove Andi from between her legs, doing heavenly things to her pussy.  It had worked for about two whole minutes.  Then, it had been Dany’s face sucking her clit deep into her mouth and tongue lashing the shiny nubbin.  Gods it had felt so good and so perfect!

Then Andi had returned, a form in the shower mist and was sucking her left nearly bursting nipple down her throat.  Her body was pressed in tight to Arya’s, letting the assassin feel her full, hot breast and rigid nipples pressed into her side.   Arya’s nipple had swelled up nearly two inches from her barely-there breast; all rounded and dark pink from blood rush of her approaching freight train orgasm.  Her nipple sucked deep into Andi’s mouth.  Her lips hooked underneath the double bottle cap edge of her engorged rubbery nipple.  Andi’s head lifting with the force of her deep throat love sucks.

Arya looked down her heaving belly.  Dany’s head was lifting too as she hard sucked on Arya’s now wildly trembling pussy sucked deep into the Valyrian’s mouth.  

Andi’s midnight eyes rolled up to look up at her and she had on that damn smirk she had when she knew she was winning.  They both were staring up at her with pure love throbbing out their purple and midnight irises. 

Arya’s head had slammed back into the tiles.  She screamed and screamed as horrific spasms of fucking bliss tore through her body.  It had been embarrassing to lose control like that her head slamming the wall again and again as she couldn’t stop wailing.  The two teenagers were allowed to scream in their orgasms that they no longer tried to hide from each other.  Worse yet, she could not be sure she had not shrieked out their names.

Gods it had felt so good feeling her cum gushing out her rupturing cunt and soaking her mound only to be washed away by the shower spray.

As her body was reviving from her harrowing orgasm, Arya knew she needed to be stronger and more importantly truer to her beautiful Nyomi.

It just seemed to be getting harder. 

Arya knew that once Dany and Andi became lovers she could focus on their happiness and then rebuild the walls around her heart.

At present though, Andi needed comforting.  Arya moved in and pressed her body behind the little mathematician, and gripped her hips and massaged them. She felt Andi start to relax and sag against her.  Arya had to will herself not to moan at the delicious warm body contact.  Andi was trembling in her frustration.

“Andi, calm down.  You are doing miracles all by yourself.”

The dark little math genius snorted in self derision.

Dany spoke up.  “You are, Andi.  You are the smartest woman I have ever known.  You should be teaching the classes at University.”

“I need more power, but I can’t get it!”

“I’m surprised you haven’t hacked into some computer lab at a government agency or university Andi,” Arya said, holding Andi hard against her body to comfort the girl as her hands stroked her hips and then up along her ribs to make the girl feel loved.

Dany’s fingers massaged the teenager’s beautiful black upper arms and exposed shoulders. The tight tank top revealed more to Dany’s fingers as they circled closer to the tops of Andi’s exposed breast.

Arya wore tight-fighting shorts that sat low, hugging her hips, and a lacy bra.

They were all wearing as little as possible.  They all liked it very warm in their home.  The fact that they were able to expose themselves was only a bonus.  There was a part of Arya that knew they were all working to seduce each other in different ways.  One was very active and calculating, while another  was coming to accept her desires and was now deliberately stoking the fires. 

And she was still fighting herself, but it was starting to look like a losing battle.


Andi had calmed, and now her eyelids lidded with sensual pleasure.  Her outburst of anger had been real.  She had not foreseen these sensual touches.

I will need to lose my temper and show my insecurities more often!  Both of her future wives were not rubbing her body as friends.  They were stroking her body as lovers!  Damnit, she wanted to rip their clothes off and suck them both off to screaming orgasms.  She may be a virgin, but the Internet had leveled the playing field with knowledge and technique.  Her desires would do the rest.

“That is the rub,” Andi finally told her two would-be lovers.  “It used to be in the past that people and organizations only gave lip service to security.  You see on the news all the time about the millions of records that are compromised.  And that is only the instances the corporations and governments feel compelled to release for public relations reasons.  In reality it is much worse than that. And I would know.  I have done tons of hacking since I was in middle school.  It was child’s play.”

She saw Dany roll her eyes and Arya snort behind her.

“It is child’s play!”

“Whatever you say, baby Einstein.” Arya chuckled her breath in Andi’s ear.  Gods she was getting wet with their touch.  She cursed her pants and panties for keeping her musk from their nostrils.  She wanted them to know she needed to fuck them so bad and have them take her virginity. 

Arya was still holding strong, but Dany would be hers soon.  She could feel it, and see it with the way the Valyrian’s purple eyes hungrily ate her body up so often.  Like they were right now, and not even knowing it!

“Now their defenses are going up by the day … no, the hour.  Wide open holes are gone within minutes, and even the small ones are being closed nearly as fast.  I sent out bots looking for their intrusion detection software and hardware.  Even if I get in, I would be quickly spotted.  I can’t take the risk of being caught, knowing they might be able to trace us back here.”

“Good thinking , Andi.  You really are brilliant,” Arya told her reassuringly, squeezing her hips.  A hot flood of love washed through Andi at the genuine encouragement.

“I always knew you were brilliant from that first day we met.  I am soooo happy you came into my life, Andi!” Dany told her, looking deep into her eyes.  She then shook her head and backed up a step, and stopped massaging her shoulder.

Damnit! Andi groused.  She felt Arya step back as well.  Double Damnit!


“You know, I think I might have a solution to your problem.  It will mean I will have to put my tail between my legs,” Arya scowled, “but I will do that for you, Andi.”

Andi and Dany both turned to look at Arya, who was staring hard at the floor and rubbing the toes of her left foot on the carpet.  Their eyes silently encouraged her to continue.

“My sister Sansa along with her wife run Stark-Tyrell Pharmaceutical - a multibillion dollar company.  They dropped out of college to get it started, and now almost thirteen years later it is the most successful company in the field.” She paused a moment.  “My family is used to excelling in whatever they do.”  Arya snorted bitterly and rubbed the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I excel in taking life, and my sister balances out the scales of justice by saving it.”

“Stop that!” Dany barked.  “You kill the scum of the Earth!”

Arya sighed.  “In the last decade the cancer death rates have dropped sixty-seven percent.  Most of it is because of Sansa and her wife Margaery. They have also single-handedly cured the major types of muscular sclerosis.”

Ary’s shoulders slumped.  “They are leading the perfect lives; saving countless numbers of people.  They own houses across the globe, along with a big ass boat.  They travel the world making love underneath the full moon.  Sansa told me how she loves fucking Margaery beneath the full moon, once.  I envy them…” Arya’s voice trailed off for a moment, before she snapped back into reality. “Anyways, I think they can help us.”

“How?” Andi asked, her eyes lighting up with hope and possibilities.

“If I can get my sister to help, we will have all the computing power we need.  Margaery focused strictly on biology and biochemistry in her studies.  She can do physics and quantum mechanics, but she loves biology the most.  Sansa loved physics almost as much as biology, but focused on that so they could help mankind the most with their combined efforts.

“She will always put the needs of the many ahead of her own selfish desires.  She is just wired that way.”

“Anyways…” Arya continued, “if she will agree to help us, and I am sure she will, we will have all of the computing power we need.  She will just rub my nose in it for a little while in exchange.  We will have a bank of the most powerful supercomputers at our disposal.  I have tracked their company over the years and they have quietly kept their processing power on par with the major governments and militaries of the world.  No other for-profit company would spend the money on raw computing power that Sansa does.” Arya gave a self-deprecating shake of her head. “For her, I’m sure it is a matter of pride and giving homage to her love of physics.”

Andi was starting to get excited, moving from foot to foot.  “Do you really think she would, Arya?”

“Yes I do.  It has been a long time and I have fallen out with my family, but we are still sisters.  We are still blood.”

“Why did you have a falling out with your family?” Dany asked, softly.  “You have done so much good with the people you have killed and the organizations you have brought down.  Andi has been sifting through the Internet, and she picked up on the pattern - we see your signature across the globe.”

Arya sighed.  “There are two levels to most crime fighting organizations in what we call the West.  The nations that work solely, supposedly, on the foundation of the science of the humanities.  We value free will and the rights of each individual and hold their rights sacrosanct.”

Andi snorted while Dany rolled their eyes.

“I am happy to see that you don’t buy into all that public face bullshit. True, we are free to a large degree, but we are definitely manipulated and major forces do try to lead us where they will.  Of course fractal mathematics proves that is impossible to succeed at entirely, but they do make the effort.  They try to guide our destinies, but anomalies are always popping up.

“Anyways …” Arya paused.   “There are two branches to most security agencies.  The FBI, CIA, MI6 and MI8, NAS and other top security agencies are one.  These are the organizations that make the news, and that Congress and the newspapers bitch about.  They are always stirring up shit that has to be done to protect the citizens from the threats in this dangerous world. That is what you see.” Arya looked at both Dany and Andi in turn. “There is a second branch.”

“The Expendables,” Andi breathed out.  Arya smirked.  Of course the X-files guru would know of them.

“Yes, the Expendables.  The branch of the known services that no one knows of.  We are the men and women that are sent out to take out the most dangerous of the ‘bad guys’ and ‘agencies’ that threaten the world and our way of life.”

Dany spoke with quiet confidence. “You are one of then, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Both Nyomi and I were both part of the most top-secret division of the FBI.  It is nicknamed ‘the Boneyard’, because of all the skeletons we leave behind.  I was code-named ‘the Direwolf’ because of my heritage, and also ‘Ghost’ because I was never seen when I did my hit.  Nyomi was called ‘Death Dealer’.  We were sent in when it was necessary to have agents killed or captured with absolutely no trace back to our government.  Plausible deniability.

 “But we were so much more than that.  That is what caused the split between me and my father.  My siblings are all unquestionably honorable, and could not understand the full aspects of my duties.”

“What could be so awful with killing the scum of the Earth?” Dany asked earnestly.

“I may be a lover and not a fighter Arya, but I would kill anyone who would threaten you or Dany.  I would kill them all!  I didn’t find the two of you just to lose you!” Andi snarled.

Arya felt her eyes flare slightly and her pussy get wet.  This was a new side to Andi.  The little Baby Einstein had claws.  Maybe she would start calling her a Caracal too.  Arya found herself drawn to this possessive streak in Andi.  She took a deep breath, and focused on calling Nyomi back to mind.

She definitely needed to get her two charges in bed together.  She chuckled silently.  They were already sleeping together and masturbating while the other slept.  Especially Dany.  She could not help but watch sometimes. Gods, it was so hot.  She would masturbate wildly after the show.  She had to focus to keep her carnal thoughts fixated on Nyomi. 

She really needed to get the two of them fucking each other.  Post haste.  They were already so much in love with each other it was almost painful to watch.  Their union would be so good.  Just like hers and Nyomi’s had been.

“There was another level to our duties Andi, Dany.  You hear all the time on TV that agents can’t do drugs or alcohol on a mission.  You never have sex with your potential targets.  You never kill to further your undercover mission. Not so for Expendables.

“Expendables do what is necessary to complete the mission.  I am a lesbian but I have fucked men and been DP, TP and partook of gangbangs to get closer to my targets.  Whatever the job required.  I was convincing having sex with anyone, man or woman.  I had to be.  With the women, I reveled in it.  I have killed rats and moles from other crime families or agencies to keep my cover.

“Some of the men and women I slept with and fucked to exhaustion before slipping a long blade between the fifth and sixth rib, piercing their heart as I covered their mouth and they died in my hands.  Nyomi and I killed many that way.  A person always drops their guard after great sex.

“But there was one more level to our duties.  One way crime lords keep their power is their support network.  They have lawyers, accounts, hedge fund managers, moles in governments and the local police.  Even the people who maintain their properties and run their legitimate business that fuel their illegal activities.  A crimelord needs these kind of people to keep their organizations running and safe. And if that support is removed, then they become much easier to take down.”

“So you and Nyomi did this?” Andi asked.

“Yes, we did.  I needed to find some hook to do the kill.  But you can almost always find one if you are looking for it.  Nyomi had no problem killing these men and women.  Her reasoning was that if you get in bed with a Jinn, then you know what the possible outcome could be.”

Arya sighed and looked off into the distance with unseeing, haunted eyes.  “We did what needed to be done.  Many more lives were saved from drugs, induced prostitution, child trafficking and illegitimate businesses destroyed.  We did the ugly, dirty work to keep the rest of society safe.”

Dany and Andi came up to Arya and hugged her tightly, pressing their cheeks to her  chest and throat . “We fully support you Arya.  It is strong women like you that keep us safe,” Dany murmured against her skin. Arya wondered if she could feel her pulse start to race under her lips.

“You saved us Arya.  Dany and I would be dead without you.  If you were a cold-blooded killer, we would have died in Dany’s bedroom back in King’s Landing.  Instead we are alive and well.  All because of you,” Andi said hugging Arya tight.

Arya swallowed hard.  She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so good. 

The last time she felt accepted.


It was late, and Dany had just come out of the shower.  The smell of pussy was thick in the room.  Arya smiled at the white haired woman’s half swallowed screams of multiple orgasms.

Now it was baby Einstein showing she was an adult with her hard chuffing and loud moans.

Arya met Dany beside the bed she shared with Andi.

“Dany.  I think you need to stop fighting your destiny and take what Andi so freely offering you.  She is madly in love with you.  And it is prophesized, right?”

“I remember the prophecy was a three-headed dragon, and not a two-headed dragon.”

Arya had thought that might come up.  “Two thirds of a prophecy is better than no part of the prophecy.”

“What makes you think I am ready now?” Dany cocked an eyebrow.

“You are ready Dany.  We both know it.  Andi is practically drooling over you.”

“She is drooling over you too, Arya.”

“Maybe,” Arya said dismissively,  ‘but she is like a Pavlov dog with you, Dany.  Take her love. You want it -you deserve it.”

“So do you.”

“I had my love, Dany.  One is enough in a life time, and more than most people get.”

Arya walked back to the kitchen area, feeling Dany’s purple eyes boring into her back.

Fifteen minutes a refreshed Andi got out of the shower.  Arya was there to meet her.

She could not stop herself from staring at the beautiful young woman as she made no move to cover herself as she slowly dried her luscious body.

Arya had to eventually tear her eyes away.

“I think it is time you take Dany, Andi.  She is ready to accept your love.  You just need to give it to her straight up.  She will no longer refuse you.”

“I want you too, Arya.”

Arya took a deep breath.  All this temptation was wearing on her.  She needed to get Andi and Dany connected as a couple, and then she could use that to erect a wall and keep her thoughts properly focused on her departed true love.

“Andi … I appreciate the thought, but …you’re just maybe a little frustrated. You’ve been waiting for Dany for a long time. Anyways, I had my love. I want you and Dany to have yours.”

“I will have Dany, Arya. But I will have you too,” the brilliant black woman told Arya with fiery midnight eyes.

Arya felt a flash of desire run through her, but she did not show it.

“I have my memories of Nyomi. That is enough.”

Andi finished drying and brushed past Arya, clearly pissed off at the rejection.

Arya sighed.  She just had to get them focused on each other.  Then they would forget about her.  She looked at Andi’s retreating ass, sighing again.  They were both indeed beautiful, and the book written by the Tyrion of ancient times made one thing clear: she, Dany, and Andi were soulmates long ago, deeply in love and totally committed to each other.

Arya rested her forehead against the wall, mournful that she had lost the chance at such a brilliant and beautiful love in this life. But Nyomi’s memory deserved better.

She squared her shoulders and continued down the hall.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives



Val cursed the Harley Davidson Tri Glide Motorcycle that had broken down twenty-three miles away from the next drive in park.  She and Dalla were stranded west of Oldtown, heading down the old coastal highway.  They had been on their way to the welcoming southern coast of Dorne.  They wanted to get as far away from the world above the Wall as possible. 

She had finally left that land with her sister Dalla. For years they had lived near the Wall, where books had to be smuggled in for the youth to see what existed beyond the giant construct.  Every generation a small percentage of youth would leave the North.  It was a one way trip.  If you chose to leave, you could never return. Those who deserted were hunted down and killed.  The elders would not dare risk the infection of new ideas and cursed technology.

No one as far as Val knew had ever tried to return once they’d left.  The threat of death and the allure of the ‘modern’ world was too strong.  Back in their village, a young mother had taken her young daughter with her as she went into exile.  Val had played with the girl in her youth, who was four years older than her at the time.  She still missed the spirited, fiery red-head.

Dalla of course had agreed to go into exile with Val.  They were sisters - and also lovers.  Val had won Dalla’s heart long ago and made it official by capturing her in the ‘hunt’.  Dalla had put up a good chase and fought hard (well, not really) when she was finally trapped by Val’s snare (only later did Val find out Dalla had already discovered the snare, and, tired of not being captured had deliberately stepped into the loop). 

They had been sleeping together for four years, but knowing she was finally married to her sister had made that first night magical.

The elders did not try and prevent any youth who wanted to leave from going.  That removed the sense of the forbidden.  Also, the people above the Wall still considered themselves the Free Folk, and one’s individual freedom was valued above all.

They had hired a Westerosi smuggler who knew the old ways though the Wall.  He charged a steep price in gold, but Val and Dalla had found and stolen what they needed.  He had had taken them to the supposed remains of the east entrance to the tunnel of the Night Fort - the old Crow stronghold that was considered haunted.

The middle aged man from Winterfell led them through a maze of dilapidated, cobwebbed tunnels until they came to a door.

They approached the ‘Black Gate’, as the guide had called it.  He had told them what to expect.  Two eyes opened.  They were neither white nor blind as the legends said.  The door asked in a strong vibrant voice: "Who are you?"  The guide had taught them the words they would need to speak.  It was part of the old Night's Watch vow. 

"I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I am the shield that guards the realms of men."  

The old magic satisfied, the door responded: “Then pass." Val and Dalla waited, and gasping as they watched magic that had existed for over sixteen thousand years evidence itself before them.  The door's lips opened, wider and wider still until nothing remained but a great, gaping mouth. 

They passed through it.  Dalla had questioned their guide after they’d passed south of the Wall.  “Wasn’t it supposed to be blind and full of wrinkles?”

The guide’s answer was simple. “Magic is coming back.”

In their new world, they hitchhiked south.  They had plenty of offers and they tried to choose judiciously.  While they were in love with each other, they freely fucked the men and women who asked for payment for services rendered. 

Some were greedy.

A young man full of vanity picked them up on his Trike bike.  He had tried to assault them after they had made love to him.  His body would never be found.  Fortunately they had closely observed how he had operated his bike as he drove them to the motel for the night. They had no problem running it without him.   

They had taken the bike south.  They used the money their assailant had on him to pay for their gas, food and park rental fees.  Until the bike broke down, leaving them stranded in the middle of nowhere.  Val had cursed as the motor sputtered out, and pulled to the side of the lonely road.  She looked at the engine, not understanding anything she was seeing.  Dalla walked around looking over the empty moors.

After a few minutes, Dalla returned to see if Val was making any progress.  She pressed her beautiful body into her sister’s as she looked over her shoulder.  Soon they were enfolded in each other’s arms, on their knees kissing deeply with hands snaking under their flannel shirts to grope full, braless tits as they moaned into each other’s mouths.  Hands pumping breasts had them both mewling, as their loud groans filled the air. 

Dalla was unfastening Val’s jeans to get into her sister’s panties and finger fuck her to orgasm.  Val had her hands on her sister’s shoulders, moaning and shivering in anticipation.

They heard the loud roar of Harley Davidson motorcycles screaming up the road.  As the sisters pulled away from each other and looked on, they counted an approaching gang of twelve. The riders were wearing vests and jackets with demons and skulls on them.  Val quickly refastened her jeans.  The men smirked as they approached, obviously thinking they had busted a couple of Lesbos fucking.  She and her sister looked over the group.

Val knew they were in serious shit.  The sun was setting, and the men would feel emboldened out in the wilderness with the approaching darkness.  Vermin always came out at night.  The area had never been developed and was rarely travelled.  It was even purported to have monsters roaming the hills by superstitious types.  When Val had first heard about that she had smiled. All cultures had their monsters.

She was seeing monsters now.

Val cursed their stupidity.  They had left their weapons in their saddle bags they were carrying their supplies in. That should have been the first thing they did when the bike broke down - unpacked their weapons.  The men probably had guns with them too, but they would have had a much better chance armed.

“I think we got a couple of lezzies here guys,” the leaders spoke.  He was a cat playing with a mouse.  “The one chick had her hand down the other’s crotch.  Damn unnatural cunts!  Fortunately we came along to show them what they have been missing.”

“Fuck you!” Dalla shouted.  “Your cock couldn’t satisfy a shrew!”  The man looked at them blankly.

“She means a mouse, you fucking idiot!” Val snarl laughed at the man.

His eyes flared with anger.  “Fucking dykes.  Thinking you’re better than a man.”

“I know I am better than any man.  I fuck men, and you ain’t no man.  You’re just a fucking turd pretending to be a man.” Dalla sneered.  “I bet your cock is only three inches long … when was the last time you washed your little thingie?  I bet it is all shriveled up and rancid.”

The man roared as he dismounted his bike.  His crew were laughing at his expense, kindling his rage.

Val and her sister had intentionally gotten the leader angry, hoping he would get careless.  They were doomed regardless, but their proud nature made them fierce and they would go down punching, kicking, clawing and biting.


Val and Dalla looked at each other in shock. 

The men had stopped in their tracks, looking off to the west over the formless desolation of the wildlands and hills below Oldtown.  The long, desolate howls continued to fill the air.  The notes long and sad yet filled with a fury.  The two sisters slowly edged back from the leader of the pack as the men all stared out into the darkening gloom.  More howls added to the orchestra.

Val heard four distinct tones within the howls.  The men were getting nervous.

“Man, let’s get the hell out of here.  These fucking moors are said to be haunted!”

“I’m not afraid of any fucking coyote,” another said as he pulled out a sawed-off shotgun.

Val knew these were not any coyotes.  She saw fierce hope in Dalla’s eyes.  Perhaps they had a chance in the confusion and carnage about to occur.

Suddenly, a huge shape jumped in from the east.  A grey blur came down from on high and landed on the man with the shotgun.  A mighty head snapped down, tearing his throat out and nearly severing his head.  The leader was spinning around as a large, white shadow came leaping in from the gloom.  The first animal had growled fiercely, but this one was silent as it sank its huge canines into his skull and then crushed it completely when its mouth snapped closed.

Another animal leaped in from the rear, biting another man’s arm off.  He screamed in agony, his bloody stump spurting out hot gouts of blood. 

Val and her sister had been at the storage compartment of their Trike in a flash.  They yanked open the lid and desperately pulled open the saddlebags with their weapons inside.  Val glanced up as three more monstrous shapes leaped in from west, falling on the bikers and slamming their heavy motorcycles to the ground. 

It was melee of bodies flying in all directions, and men with weapons clumily firing in their panic. One was drawing a bead with his shotgun on an animal that was ripping open the belly of the biker it had just taken down. Val felt a throwing axe whirl by her ear, which landed squarely in the man’s forehead.  His body jerked back, and his shotgun fired up in the air.  Another man was coming at Val with a pistol raised.  She chopped down with her small Arakh, sized for woman.  Although she and Dalla were both over 6’2” in height, neither had ever felt comfortable with a full sized Arakh. 

The blade sank into the arm holding the gun, breaking bones with the blade lodging inside.  She ripped her hand back.  The man had dropped his gun in his agony.  Another throwing ax landed in the back of a man desperately fighting his animal assailant.  He went down, and his throat was promptly ripped out.  While Val had used the inside crescent of her Arakh to chop the man’s arm, she now used the outside curve to slice his throat through to his spine.  His blood splattered out in hot gushes. 

Then, the fight was over.  The twelve bikers were all dead.

The two alphas of the pack turned to the two women.  Val did not want to die, but better to be killed by Direwolves than monsters.  She had thought that they had been extinct south of the wall for over eight thousand years, but as was the case with so many things, she’d been taught a lie. The Alpha female slowly walked up to them. 

They were tall, but the wolf’s head still came up to their shoulders.  The female’s golden eyes regarded her with obvious intelligence.  The white wolf came up silently beside his mate.  Though he was smaller, he still had massive canines, and his shoulder girdle with its shaggy mane stuck up in agitation.

The great white wolf with red eyes made no sound.  It tilted its head, regarding the two women silently.  The other four direwolves slowly moved in surrounding the two women.

The two sisters hugged each other and kissed once more, preparing to die.

The white Direwolf stared at them as the others spent several minutes howling up into the now dusky sky.  Again and again they howled.  The lead female stopped howling and resumed staring at the two women. 

The two alphas slowly came forward, their snouts in front of the sisters’ faces.  The wolves breathed in their scent.  They stared at the women for another minute.  Then, together as one, the pack of Direwolves ran off into the night, back to the west into the wastes of the moors and hills.

The sisters relaxed, visibly drained.  Val was weak-kneed, supported by Dalla.

“Well,” Dalla said, “at least we don’t have to worry about transportation anymore.”


Melisandre laid her Tarot cards down on the table, waiting patiently.  She practiced what the cards told her.  It was all gibberish of course, but she knew how to make her customers wait with baited breath and fork over hundreds of Iron Notes with desperate anticipation.

She had stared into the flames, seeking visions of her husband.  The flames had been silent regarding him, but revealed the threat approaching her front door. She had been on the proverbial pins and needles ever since.  After all these years, the flames were still confusing and confounding.  She was taught that they never lied - hey were only misinterpreted.  She had come to see the flames were mainly full of shit, but they were right just often enough to keep Melisandre reading them and half believing in the god of her youth.

She played the Magician card from the tarot deck, pondering.  She should make better use of her powers. Maybe a new beginning.  A deep spiritual event may take place soon, important no matter how ‘superficial it appeared to be’. 

Next she played the High Priestess reversed.  She sighed. Again, so many potential meanings.  It was a spiritual card, and she shivered thinking of its sexual meanings.  This card had led her to her husband, after all.  It was a card full of energy, if you knew how to find it. 

She was used to laying low and seeking clarity through meditation and observations.  She had been looking for love when she finally found her husband.  She had been alone for so long.  Her husband had fallen in love with her the instant she stepped out of the shadows, he often told her.

Her love had been gone ten days, and she missed him dearly.  She had been forced to rip into a case of new batteries to keep ole Thumper going.  Gods she loved that rotating shaft and the rabbit tail that rotated and brushed her rigid throbbing clit. That and the good ole Hitachi Magic Wand kept her pussy from burning up when her husband was out of town. 

The door’s bells chimed as patrons entered her establishment, the Mystical Crossroads.  She felt the emanations from the men coming in.  She continued to play the tarot deck.  She did not look up, though she felt rising panic.  The flames had told her that she would be having visitors that meant to do her grave harm.  What they had not told Melisandre was that there were ten of them.  She had been expecting only a few.

She knew that the world at large had forgotten about Shadowbenders, and she preferred to keep it that way.  It worked in your favor when you were constantly underestimated.  She was powerful, but she had come to learn that firearms were the great equalizer in the modern world.

She was in deep shit.  She needed her husband.  Direct mayhem was his forte, while hers was working from the shadows.  It was broad daylight, and her large storefront windows let in the early morning sunshine. There were no shadows to hide in.  Melisandre calmed her breathing and focused.

“Xhalhalhor Xhaa sends his regards bitch,” the obvious leader said, his Beretta M9 9mm aimed between Melisandre’s eyes.  His number two was at his right hand with a Dothraki Galil in the crook of his arm, the stock extended and also aimed at the witch.  “You made the wrong choice interfering with his gun running and killing his son.”

The witch dealt another card from the tarot deck, ignoring the man. 

“Look at me bitch!  I want to see those fucking red eyes staring at me when I pump a bullet in that head of yours.”

Melisandre put the deck down slowly, and took her hand off the card she had just placed on the desk.  She looked up at her would-be assassin.

He smiled evilly at her.  “Normally, I would rape you first, but I was given strict orders to just kill you.  For some reason you spook the hell out of Xhalhalhor – but I’m not paid to question. I will love seeing your eye explode when my bullet—”

He had not noticed the witch’s fingers slowly lift from the table as the heels of her palms pressed into the desktop, tilting her fingers up towards the two men in front of her.  From the four fingertips of each hand, black daggers of solid black shadow shot out,  slamming into the upper chests of the men, shredding hearts and freezing the major veins and arteries.  The men collapsed straight down dead, their guns clattering on the floor beside them.  

Melisandre quickly dove to the left and got hold of the Beretta, then rolled over behind a case. She rose from behind it and let lose a three round burst, hitting a man in the heart.  He staggered back, only to move off to the left - very much alive.  Damnit!  They were wearing body armor.  That was when the shit hit the fan, and rifles on full auto started spraying bullets everywhere. 

Melisandre crawled quickly down an aisle.  She was thanking R’hllor that she had such a haphazard layout to her business.  It added to the mystical vibe and allure of her establishment, and, she was too damn lazy to put stuff up when she bought junk off the Internet. Her slobby habits were saving her as bullets ripped into stacked boxes, display cabinets, and the many jars and stacked bins lining the walls and stacked on display cases.

She jumped up and let off rounds in short bursts as she moved around.  She kept slowly retreating.  She hit several men uselessly with shots to their upper chests.  She caught one man just as he came around a pillar, firing in wild arcs.  She hit in him in the shoulder spinning him slightly, and then her next shots hit his temple and cheek destroying his face.

“Take that motherfuckers!” She shouted at her tormentors.

She fired again and her gun clicked.  She had reached the display case that had her Glock stored in it.  She pulled it out, and jumped up.  Sure enough, her assailants had assumed she was now weaponless.  Two three-shot bursts barked from her firearm loaded with hollow point ammo.  Two men’s heads were pulverized with hydrostatic shock with three bullets ripping their faces apart and exploding brains all over the merchandise surrounding them.  She grabbed her spare clips and moved on down the aisle, half-crouched.

A jar in front of her exploded.  It was her jar of white blind Basilisk Isles newts. 

Godsdamnnnnn! Do you know who much that cost me you motherfuckers!”

She hit more men, but their body armor protected them as they moved with jerky movements and took cover.  She was slowly being pushed back by the assassins, running out of real estate to fight in. 

She felt her inner energies recharge to optimal.  She fired at the men, forcing them to stay in cover.  She tracked where the two closest were.  She put her gun down, and jumped upward.  Her two hands thrust out, and another set of shadow daggers shot out of her fingertips.  The left hand daggers hit a man running down an aisle, firing on full auto.  Jars and artitifacts exploded around Melisandre.  Her daggers easily penetrated his body armor, piercing his heart, lungs and liver, killing him.  The right hand daggers hit the concrete column that was hiding one of her tormentors.  The daggers pierced the column he was hiding behind, hitting him in his side and head.  His jerking body left bullets ripping up the wall and ceiling as he died like a twisting marionette.

Melisandre bent down to lift her gun.  A fist slammed into her head and she collapsed to the floor, nauseous.  Rough hands flipped her over.  She was just focusing her eyes when the assailant reached down and ripped her choker from off her throat.

“AAAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” She screamed in agony, her back arching, threatening to snap her spine as she convulsed, her eyes rolling back into her head.  Her blood was on fire, and she felt great searing spasms ripping at her body as she went into immediate withdrawal.  Centuries began crashing into the witche’s body.  “AAARRUUUNNGGGGGGGGG!”

The man’s two surviving partners came up to look at the dying witch.  Her hair was turning white, and deep wrinkles appeared on her face as her limbs atrophied.  

The sudden loud barking of an M-14 echoed in the room.  The men to the right and left of the assailant holding the choker in his hands had their bodies jerked wildly by short bursts of hard hitting 7.62mm armor piercing ammo that flayed their bodies.  Their rifles went clattering to the floor.

Melisandre could barely see as cataracts formed on her eyes.

What? Who?  Her husband was still in Yi-Ti.

The man who had killed her had spun around, lifting his rifle when a sword pierced his heart and ripped out this back.  The blue ripple of Valyrian Steel glowed in the light.  It was Sunburst!  Her husband was back!

She was gently lifted and the choker was pinned around her throat with a broken clasp.  She gasped and gagged, her youth and strength returning.  She then screamed in panic.  Jaime Lannister had seen her true appearance.  She screamed again.

“Melisandre stop it! Stop it!  I know about the ruby giving you your youth.  It does not matter to me. I love you.  You are my wife.  I would love you no matter your looks.  I am here.”  He pulled Melisandre tight to this strong body.  She clung to him.

She gripped his head and kissed him desperately.  He returned her kiss ardently.  He picked her up.  She clung to Jaime desperately.  The building was at the end of the row and the two nearest buildings were out of business.  No one had heard the firefight.  Jamie started to carry Melisandre upstairs.

“But the store …”

“The trash can be taken out later.  I put the closed sign up on the door.”

She clung to Jamie Lannister.  He was going to make love to her, to prove to her that he loved her warts and all. 

How had she gotten so lucky? 


Dany was furious as she stepped out of the End Stop video gaming store.  They had totally gotten carried away and lost track of time playing the new Sony Playstation VR gaming system - but it had been a fucking blast playing Resident Evil, Ocean Descent and Grand Theft Auto in virtual reality. 

Missandei had been a screaming Minnie at the sharks attacking the virtual cage and all of the jumps scares in Resident Evil.  She had been damn good with the guns in Grand Theft Auto though.  Maybe all that gun practice was paying off in some form. 

Also, having Andi jump into her arms shaking and seeking comfort had been a major bonus. 

They had decided to buy it on the spot.  They had all the money they needed.  The money that Andi had siphoned off of crime lords was being saved up for a rainy day. Arya seemed to get upset when they did not spend the money she was providing them.  It made both Dany and Arya feel all warm and fuzzy inside with how Arya was protecting them and making sure they were ‘kept’.

If only she wasn’t so damn stubborn.

Dany felt Arya fighting herself. While Dany was giving in to her desires for Andi and Arya, the agent was still clinging to a ghost. It would anger her, if it were not so entirely sad.

She knew that soon she and Andi would become lovers.  She just had to crank her courage dial up from the current chicken shit level it was currently set at. She needed to make the first move. She could feel she was ready.  She would set the time when she would take Andi and make Andi her woman. 

When they started home, she was furious with herself.  The sun had set and the sky was darkening quickly.  Arya was away with Ghostmaker in Honeyholt.  An arms dealer had double crossed Shih-Chieh; raiding a deal of Shih-Chieh’s and killing three of his men.  That had to be punished.  Arya had asked for Dany to come as backup, but Shih-Chieh had said she was not ready.

That had pissed Daenerys off.  She was sure he just did not want to imperil the Dragon Queen from eight thousand fucking years ago.  She planned on having a talk with Mr. Ghostie!

They would have had to have brought Andi though, and she had to agree she was not ready to protect Andi in a gun battle.  She needed more training and seasoning before she could handle that.  She had skills, but no battlefield testing.

They moved quickly down the road.  They were still seven blocks from their alleyway, and the warrens of Oldtown could be a very dangerous place after dark.  They kept to the main road as much as possible but soon had to digress off into the smaller alleyways to get home.

Dany was nervous.  She did not have her gun.  She was not yet comfortable carrying one concealed.  That would change after tonight.  Damnit, she knew better than to be out at night without Arya.  The rats came out at night, no matter where you were.

That was when she saw them.  Four men waiting for them down the alley.  She turned around, but five men were walking down the alley from the opposite side towards them.  She saw the side alley narrow and dark between two blocks of buildings, with no other egress. 

The men gathered around them and slowly formed a phalanx, pushing Dany and Andi back and into the dark, dank alleyway. 

Dany hid Andi behind her as she began to cry and cling to her arm.  Dany was furious with herself.  It had been her responsibility to not let time get away from them.  So much for my fucking skills.

Even in the dark Dany could see the men were covered in prison tattoos.  “Shih-chieh’s special little lesbo sluts are about to be raped and killed.  We will leave you on his doorstep.  That fucking bastard…  I will have my revenge.”

Violet eyes looked around.  The men were vile, and she could feel avarice and lust radiating off them.  The alleyway was just big enough for three of the men to stand shoulder to shoulder in front of her.  She would not last long against them.  They were covered in ink and scars, and the one on the far left was almost seven feet tall.

She would fight as long as she could to protect her sweet Andi. It was all she could do.

“Men.  You can’t live with them , so why should we?  I think we should just kill them.  Why are they like that, I wonder? I would think their mothers would raise them better.  My father always gave me bear spray.  It is such a pretty moon out, but now the mood has been ruined.  I think you should apologize to these women for scaring them so.”

A young naked woman brushed past Dany and Andi.  She was about 5’2” and very beautiful, toned but slender.  She had honey blond hair that went down her back with her hair parted in the middle.  She came to stand before the men who openly gaped at her.

“Do you think my feet are getting stained by this yucky water?  Do you think the Republicans are assholes?  Do you hate Fox News?  That Roger Aieles is a real dickhead ain’t he?”

The leader looked at the strange woman.  “Who the fuck are you, bitch?!”

“Such language!  I am scandalized!  My wives will not like that!”

“Gods.  More fucking lesbos!” The man sneered.

Dany felt Andi’s grip on her arm tighten.  A black cloud had suddenly materialized over the right shoulder of Mr. Hulk.  Dany gasped when a purple glow burst out of the cloud.

A naked, slender black-haired woman was hanging around the man’s neck and on his shoulders.  All jerked in surprise at the sight.  The woman’s hair was wavy and beautiful.  That was when Dany realized both of the strange womens’ skin looked almost alabaster.

“Cupcake.  How many times have I told you not to play with your food?”

Andi screamed when long fangs suddenly extended  from both women’s mouths.  The black haired woman gripped the ox’s head and easily jerked his thick neck over, sinking her fangs into his throat.  She easily controlled his thrashing body.  The small dirty blond jumped up, wrapping her arms and legs around the leader of the gang as she sank her long fangs into his throat.

A loud, screaming howl echoed down the alleyway.  From the street a huge red wolf ran down the roadbed.  The wolf seemed to ripple and it arrived running on two feet.  Its front legs (or was it arms?) slashed two men’s throats open, blood gushing everywhere.  The werewolf threw men all around, and then gripped one of the men whose throat she had torn and drank from his gushing fount.

Andi was screaming as Dany stood in shock.  The two men the vampires were draining had fallen to their knees as their life was sucked from their bodies.  A gun fired, and the bullets hit the woman with black hair, jerking her even as the wounds instantly started to heal.

“Damnit!  Now I have to feed again!”  Faster than the eye could follow, she was on the man who had shot her and sank her fangs into his neck.  The man screamed and thrashed, but the slender woman easily controlled him as she drank his life’s blood from his throat.

In fifteen seconds he was drained.  His corpse was ghost white.  The five survivors were running down the alley.  The werewolf and the dark haired vampire flashed down the hall, giving chase.  Screams were loud in the night.  No one would come to investigate till the police had gathered plenty of forces, or the sun had risen.

The little dirty blond finished her meal and casually dropped the dead man.  She turned to look at Dany and Andi, her fangs long and stained red with blood running down her face and throat. “Do you by any chance have any grape soda or chocolate chip cookies in any of those bags?”

Dany and Andi shook their heads woodenly ‘no’.  Dany had never believed in Werewolves or Vampires.  She did now.

The other two creatures returned.  The black haired woman came up to the dirty blonde.  She hugged the woman to her body and kissed her sweetly on the lips. 

“You are always such a messy eater, sweetie.”

The tall werewolf went to the second body it had almost decapitated.  The corpse was snatched up off the bricks.  The Werewolf drank and slurped blood from the gruesome wound.  A minute later the body was deathly white.  The werewolf walked up to the two vampires, towering over all the women.

Its head rocked back and howled to the sliver of sky overhead.  Then the animal’s body began to ripple.  It slowly shrank in size and thickness.  Furred sloughed off its body.  Ears moved from the top of the head and morphed.  Red hair sprouted on its head, and grew in fast forward.  The snout disappeared, and the canines retracted into the mouth of the tall red headed woman emerging from the wolf’s body.

In a half minute a tall, beautiful, naked redhead stood before them. She was slender, and about 6’2”. 

“Glad you could join us, Sasquatch.”

The red head snorted.  The black haired woman tilted her head back and presented her now red lips up saucily.  She had a smirk on her face.  The tall red head snorted and kissed the black haired woman, licking her lips sensually with the tip of her tongue.  The slender black haired woman’s knees went weak as she mewled. 

The tall redhead lifted her up off the ground.  The black haired woman wrapped her legs and arms around the redhead and they kissed feverishly, tongues dueling wetly in their mouths. 

“Hey! Hey!  No fair damnit!  I want mine!  Where is my sugar, babies?!”

She jumped up and somehow the tall redhead caught her as she wrapped her legs and arms around both women. She kissed the redhead fiercely and then the black haired woman hungrily.  Sloppy wet tongue kisses were given all around with loud smooches filling the alleyway. 

A black cloud formed around the kissing women.  A purple flash, and they were gone.

Andi stared at Dany.  Dany pulled her tight as their bodies violently shook at the aftermath of their brush with death.  They would have died right there in that alley if the stuff of legends had not materialized to save them.

They grabbed their bags and hurried home.  On their way, their wide eyes scanned the shadows for the stuff of nightmares.  They would not tempt the fates again.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Petals in the Wind


Joffrey lay crying in the bed.  His parents had been furious with him yet again.  He simply could not pretend to enjoy it anymore.  His soul was dying, and he knew he had no escape.  He was trapped in a living hell - a hell created by his own loving parents.  He laughed bitterly at the term, his face buried in the pillow as the fabric absorbed the tears running from his eyes.

His parents had their ‘special’ friends over, including his father’s boss’ wife.  The woman loved her young boys and girls.  He knew he was getting old for the games he needed to play, but fortunately he still looked young for his age.  He had fair skin and facial hair that was still silky and grew slowly.  He always shaved ultra-close before one of his parents’ parties.

He may have been nineteen, but he thanked the gods he still looked so young.  The men and women still thought they were fucking a sweet, underage boy. Tommen had been brought into the games years ago, too.  He seemed to be able to go to a faraway place whenever it happened.  He had been quiet since Joffrey could remember, but he never smiled now.  He always had a somber air about him – at least, until he put on his false smile for the audience when he, Joffrey, and their sister would put on a show to excite the clients.

After, they would be taken by one of them – or a few of them.  These people would then have their way with the youths that had been provided for their entertainment.  He remembered the sex he had had with his sister and with Tommen before the ‘guests’.  Tommen was a natural born thespian.  He groaned and cried out like he was really into it all.  Joffrey was not sure whether or not he had not become addicted to sex like their sister had.

Myrcella was a wildcat out there in front of everyone.  She screamed and thrashed like she was being electrocuted.  She begged her brothers to bang her hard in her cunt and ass.  The brothers obliged, slamming their cocks hard into her willing body.  They did ATM and Mycella dove on their cocks sucking her ass off their dicks.  They turned her around and fucked her with her ass on Joffrey’s stomach and DPed her that way.  Then the brothers pulled their cocks out her ass and straight to her pussy.  She loved it.

They made sure they were regulated and crapped a few hours before the show. They did enemas to clean themselves out, and then showered to be clean on both the inside and the outside.  They had pulled her hair, slapped her ass, face, and tits and half-choked her breath off. 

Joffrey wept for Myrcella.  She had obviously loved it.  She screamed their names to fuck her harder, wailing as they ejaculated deep up her ass and balls deep in her cunt. 

Afterward, three men had then taken Myrcella away to be fucked more.  She had had a smile on her face.  Tommen was taken by a husband and wife.

When his mom’s boss had come for him, he had broken down and openly wept.  He hated their life.  He did what he had to, to keep from being beaten and starved, but sometimes he just couldn’t.  The woman had started to drag him down the hall as he tried to fight her, but he was only a slight teenager and not very strong. 

Still he had found the strength in the end to kick the woman in the shins calling her a fucking bitch.  To say his parents were not happy was an understatement.

He had a split lip and aching ribs to show for their displeasure.  He had then been sent to the woman and her strap-on.  He gave her the smiles and groans she wanted as she pegged his ass hard and deep.  He wept because while being so awful, it also felt so good.  His swollen face did not seem to bother her as she pulled his hair and slapped him.

He was exhausted after that, and sent to his room.  He was not allowed to eat anything, and his parents had used the cattail on him to the amusement of the clients and family friends.

He was lying on the bed still weeping at 3:30 in the morning when he felt the bed depress as his sister slid in behind him to spoon.  Her sixteen year old body rubbed against him,  her nipples hard on his back and her pussy wet on his ass.  She wanted him bad, just as he wanted her desperately.  He grit his teeth.  He felt so soiled, desiring his sister so much. She rolled him over and kissed him deeply.  

Soon they were making sweet love and he screamed into her mouth as his cock exploded deep in her cunt, flooding her womb with his seed.  She stroked him and kissed him again sweetly.  They talked of tomorrows, and how someday they would escape their hell.  They made love again with Myrcella riding him cowgirl and screaming into the pillow as Joffrey’s cock exploded deep in her ass.

Then she snuggled into his side.  “I love you Joffrey.  I always have.”  Joffrey wanted to revel in that love, but what chance did Myrcella truly have in all of this?  She was clinging to him like a lifeline, he knew.  Brothers and sisters were not supposed to become lovers.  He was addicted to Myrcella now though.  He could not help but love her.

They were falling asleep when their adopted brother Lancel crept into their bed and snuggled in between them.  He was only six years old, and they knew that soon he would have to join their performances too.

Joffrey had no idea what to do.  He was not strong, and his will was weak.  He was the eldest and the ‘man’ of the family, but he only felt despair.  He did not have the courage to defy his parents or the will or wiles to escape with his siblings.

They were doomed.


Joffrey tossed and turned on his bed.  Tommen was sound asleep,  his fourteen year old mind seemingly able to let the horrors go.  Joffrey knew his younger brother was not letting any of the monsters go, merely hiding them away in the attics and basements of his mind.  And one day, they would be waiting for him.

Lancel had cried himself to sleep.  Even at his young age, he knew what tomorrow night meant for him.  The end of his innocence.  It was time for him to earn his keep.  To show his ‘appreciation’ to his parents

Joffrey knew he needed to do something, but he was paralyzed with fear.  His teeth clattered even contemplating defying his parents.  He was a fucking coward, and knew but could not change.  He was timid and docile by nature, just like his brother.

Myrcella was fiery, but had been corrupted by their parents.  She seemed to revel in their life. 

What to do?  Letting Lancel fall into their lifestyle was almost too horrible to let his mind even think on it.

The bedroom door opened. 

“Come Joffrey,” was Myrcella’s simple order.  He never knew when their parents would hunger for the bodies of their own children.  He followed his sister’s nude body down the hall woodenly, and into the bedroom.  His mind turned on autopilot as his body went numb.





His parents were lying on their bed, but something was wrong.  They were not moving and there was blood everywhere.

“Wha—what?” Joffrey gasped.

“I killed them.  I put my hand over daddy’s mouth as I slipped a butcher knife between his ribs and pierced his heart. I twisted the blade, and he died without making a peep.  Mommy the bitch tried to wake up and fight me as I sliced her heart to shreds.  She died staring up at me. Good riddance.

“Help me find their money and valuables.  We’re leaving now.  We’re going to Oldtown;  it’s only two hours away by road.  I bought tickets for us already on the Internet and they are waiting at the bus station.  I have the confirmation numbers.”

Joffrey was frozen still in shock. His parents were dead and his sister had killed them! 

“Move Joffrey! I want out of here. Now!”

That finally got Joffrey moving.  He went to the dresser and then the closets, looking in all the boxes and drawers.  He found a few stacks of money and some expensive jewelry.  Myrcella was on their parent’s laptop.  She had somehow gotten their passwords and their account numbers, and was transferring money to other accounts.  He did not care how she learned what she was doing.  He just wanted to get the hell out.

She sent him back to their bedroom to start packing clothes.  Tommen had woken up.  Joffrey told him they were leaving.

“Myrcella killed them?”


“Good.  She told me she would do it herself.”  Tommen took a deep breath.  “I was scared, but she told me she could do it alone.”

Joffrey frowned.  His sister had gone to fourteen year old Tommen about her plans.  He knew he was weak, but he realized it was worse than he’d imagined.  His sixteen year old sister was the true backbone of the family.  He continued to pack.  He couldn’t help it.  He just wanted to be a professor at some college studying literature. 

He cursed himself, knowing that deep down he longed for a normal, married life, yet the only woman he wanted in his bed was his own sister.  Many times after they made love she would ask Joffrey what he dreamed of. He had told her.  She had just smiled at his confession.

“I will be your wife Joffrey.  We will have children and love them as they should be loved.”

Joffrey had agreed with his sweet sister then, knowing it was just a pipe dream.  They would never escape their parents.

But now his parents were dead, and his sister had killed them.  She appeared to have felt nothing about the murders.  He certainly felt nothing for their loss.  They were monsters that deserved to be put down.  His sister had done what needed be done to free them.  It still scared him that she could be so composed after doing it – his own hands were shaking terribly.

Tommen helped him pack their suitcases.  They only had three for the four of them.  Tommen went to wake up Lancel.  He was groggy and fearful until he saw it was just Tommen waking him up.  He calmed when Joffrey smiled at him, and told they boy they were leaving tonight.

“Without mommy and daddy?”

“Yes, without mommy and daddy.” Joffrey felt relief when Lancel took the news at face value and got up to get dressed.  The blessed acceptance and innocence of youth.  Joffrey finished packing their suitcases, and Tommen helped Lancel get dressed and put his shoes on.

Joffrey left them in the bedroom to check on Myrcella.  She had a carryon bag she was stuffing the money and valuables into.  She told Joffrey she had found more money stashed away in the den.

“We have over ten thousand dollars and plenty of jewelry and Rolodex watches to pawn.  I transferred almost one hundred thousand Iron Notes to an account I setup in a dead account I bought off the dark web. We just need to go to ground, and then we can start planning our future together.  You can finish school through correspondence, and then get into a community college and we can start your pursuit of your PHD.  We will get Tommen and Lancel enrolled into a private school.”

“What about you Mycella?  Don’t you want to go to college and become… whatever you want to become?”

“I want to be your wife, Joffrey.  I can figure out some business to run at home.  I love numbers so I am thinking of maybe working the stock markets or flipping houses.  We’ll see.”

Joffrey smiled at his sister sadly.  He knew she could not help but love him.  She really had had no choice.  She needed a port to find shelter in,  to find calm in the hurricane that was their lives.  It would kill him when she grew stronger and left him.  His life would become empty, but he hoped that his sister would find a true life with some real happiness. 

After they were packed, their cab arrived.  They piled into the vehicle after putting their luggage in the trunk.  Myrcella told them that they would disappear in the warrens of Oldtown.  It was old school with small streets and a haphazard layout.  They would disappear into that stony labyrinth, and then they could begin to form their new lives.

Joffrey looked out the window.  Myrcella was leaned into him, and Tommen into her.  Lancel was pressed against the other door, fast asleep.  He looked back over his siblings.  Joffrey supposed that they would all need many years of counseling after all they’d endured.  They had many repressed horrors locked away in their minds.  They would need to find the skeleton key to their demons to vanquish them. 

They were soon at the bus terminal, waiting for the bus to arrive that would take them to Oldtown.  Lancel and Tommen were exhausted and already asleep.  Joffrey was pacing with Mycella at his side.  Anyone who looked at them could see they were obviously brother and sister.  He had to keep pushing her away when she sought to snuggle against him.

“Damnit Mrycella!  Control you hormones.  We can’t have anyone take notice of us right now.  When we get to Oldtown we can make love the whole night through.  Just wait.”

Myrcella glared at him.  She did not like to be put off.

“I love you with all my heart and I long to hold and fuck you sweetheart,” he told his sister leaning his head down.  It was the truth.  He knew it was wrong, but he could not help how his heart beat only for his sister.  “I want you so bad baby!  I will fuck you so hard and deep in your pussy and ass, just wait!” he whispered fiercely.

She was mollified, her eyes now limpid and full of fiery desire.  “I will hold you to that Joffrey.  My body is on fire for you.  Only for you.”

Joffrey smiled at her.  He only wished it was true.  She was strong, and he was weak.  She would see that soon enough.  She could do better than him. 

The bus finally arrived and they woke their brothers.  They carried their suitcases to the bus and loaded their bags into the outside storage bins.  They got on the bus and went to the back to take their seats.  There would be four other stops along the way.


The trip to the bus terminal in Oldtown was uneventful.  Both he and Myrcella had been constantly afraid that the police would come swooping down to arrest them at any moment for the double homicide of their parents, but no one ever came. They were beginning to relax.  They had made it to Oldtown.  They would be safe in the anonymity of the crowded confused warrens.  It was an hour before dawn and there was no one else in the terminal as they collected their suitcases.  The few other travelers had had people waiting for them and were already gone.

They pulled their suitcases to the roadside to find a cab to take them to their new life.  Myrcella had not planned beyond getting the hell away from the Stygian Hell of their home.

From the shadows rough men came out to surround the four youths.

Joffrey’s heart sank.  Chicken hawks.  Those who preyed on children who were desperate and destitute.  He counted eleven of them in all.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing with a loser like that?  Come with us and we will show you what you have been missing, sweetie.”

“Fuck off,” was Myrcella’s snarled response.

Joffrey was shaking.  They had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.  He could not believe their misfortune.  Why in the hell were these men here now?  They couldn’t have been there all night.  It wasn’t fair!

“Listen bitch!  You’re coming with us.  It ain’t safe for a young, sweet, innocent lass like you.”

“In your dreams, gay boy.  I have Joffrey for my needs.”

The man laughed at that.  “This faggot?!”  Joffrey never even saw him move.  His head exploded with pain from a vicious backhand and he ended up sprawled on the street, his vision spinning.  He groggily saw what happened next.

Myrcella pulled out the butcher knife she had killed their parents with.  In a flash she was on the man who had hit him.  Her right hand was a blur as it stabled forward and up. Again and again her blade sank deep into the man’s gut and torso.  He screamed in agony as his sister ripped his belly open and pierced his lungs.  Then the man collapsed to his knees, blood pouring down his torso.

Another man approached Myrcella and by sheer luck her wildly slashing hand lashed the blade of her knife across his throat.  Both of his carotid arteries severed, and his windpipe cut in two.  Blood sprayed out of his throat in wild gouts.  He collapsed to the ground, holding his neck with both hands.

“Get the suitcases NOW!” Myrcella roared.  The three boys exploded into motion.   The chicken hawks were in disarray as their two leaders lay on the concrete dying. 

Joffrey looked around wildly.  He saw the men milling around their dying leaders.  He knew the shock would begin to wear off soon.  It was useless to run.  They could not outrun anyone with little Lancel with them. Lancel began crying and shaking violently.  The stress was wrecking him.  Tommen dropped to his knees, comforting him.

Myrcella was scanning wildly back and forth down the street, looking for a taxi.

Joffrey’s felt elation when a black cab stopped in front of them.  Finally, luck was on their side.  The man behind the wheel got out of the car and silently opened the trunk for them.  They struggled to put their luggage in.  The taxi driver said nothing as he watched the men raging over their now dead comrades.  The shock was wearing off.  Joffrey and Tommen threw the last of the luggage into the trunk and slammed it shut.  Myrcella had led a shaky Lancel into the cab.

The men were shouting at each other, building themselves up into a lather.  Shouts of revenge now filled the air.

The cab driver looked at Joffrey, still saying nothing. 

“Where to?” the man finally asked.

There was silence again as the man pulled away from the curb.  He started down the street at the speed limit.  He looked in his rear view mirror.

“Where to?” he barked the question this time.

Joffrey had no idea.  Myrcella shook her stupor off.  Her hands and sleeves were soaked in blood.  She looked around and took a deep breath, getting a handle on her emotions.  She looked back out the rear window.  Joffrey turned around but saw nothing amiss.  They had escaped.

“I grow tired of asking. Where to?”

Myrcella recovered at that.  “Do you know of a long-term motel deep in the warrens?  Someplace we can rent by the month?  We are seeking a new beginning in the south.  We had bad luck in Goldsborrow up north.”

“I see. Yes, there is a hotel that rents by the month that will meet your needs.  It is a converted warehouse that used to be a store several centuries ago.  They only accept cash.  No questions asked.”

“I have plenty of cash.  I can pay for two months.  We just need to find a place that is safe.”

“I see.”  The man said nothing else.  They drove away from the outskirts of the suburbs of New Oldtown.  The bus terminal was in an older section that had begun to decay with urban neglect.  They drove down deserted streets. Eventually the streets narrowed, and the buildings got older and closer to the road.  They began to twist and turn as the blocks sprawled, and buildings almost seemed to stack on top of each other.

They kept making turns and moved down streets that barely had enough space to allow cars to pass each other. Joffrey couldn’t help but gape at the tunnels that penetrated buildings.  This new architecture was blowing his mind having grown up in the suburbs.  He never imagined that such buildings existed.

They came to a square that had four egress points.  The car stopped in front of a nondescript building.  It had only one entryway, and small rectangular windows.  Joffrey knew the rooms would be plain but he did not care.  They had escaped and were safe now.  The driver got out of the cab and opened the trunk.  He and Tommen pulled out their luggage while Myrcella paid the fare. 

He looked at her and then Joffery with unreadable eyes.  Then he got in his taxi and was gone.

Myrcella came back to Joffrey and stood on her tippy toes. He bent down and kissed her hard, pulling her tight to his body. He needed her comfort.  He would worry about reality in the future.  They had escaped the hell of their home for now.

They tiredly gathered their suitcases.  Myrcella picked up Lancel who snuggled into her shoulder as she carried him into the lobby.  Joffrey and Tommen followed.  They looked at each other.

 They had done it.


The taxi pulled into the west egress tunnel and stopped it the middle of it.  The driver’s fingers tapped the steering wheel.  He had seen the cars trailing them.  Those men would not let those kids get away with killing two of their numbers. 

He remembered Yeen in Sothoryos.  It had been twenty years ago, and he still had nightmares.  They had been ordered to stand down and allow the insurgents to enter the city and rape and kill in the refugee camps for the tribes of the Zateka people.  The insurgents desired revenge for past wrongs, and the refugees were not important to the mission.  He had watched on the drone feeds the horror his country had allowed.

His hand slammed the steering wheel.  He would not stand down this time.  This time, Davos Seaworth would follow his conscience.  He opened his car door and stepped out.

He saw five cars and crossovers stop outside the motel. The chicken hawks had called in some of their scum brothers.  He was hidden in the shadows, his departure unmarked.  Why would they worry over a taxi driver leaving for his next fare?  He stepped to the trunk of the taxi and popped it open. He reached back to the rear of the compartment and unfastened the snaps.  

He pulled out his M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System.  The new standard sniper rifle of the Westeros Military.  The hard hitting 7.62×51mm standard round loaded in the twenty round clip in the gun.  He pulled the gun out along with the ammo bag he snatched off the Velcro strip.  Then he grabbed the black bag sitting in the back of the trunk.  He shut the lid again quickly. 

He had to move fast!  The men were boiling out of their cars with their pistols and semiautomatic sub-machine guns.  They wanted revenge, and were not taking any chances with the Hellcat inside.  He flipped the bi-pod out and placed the sniper rifle on the trunk.  He ripped open the ammo bag with five additional clips and placed it beside his rifle.  Davos pulled out his silencer and first twisted and then snapped it in place on the end of the rifle.  He had sub-sonic ammo to reduce even further the audio signature.  He drew a black towel over his head and shoulders as he bent down to sight down the scope.  He made a quick adjustment.

He was two hundred yards away.  It would be like shooting ducks in a pond.

More than twenty men started rushing towards the hostel. 

Pppffftttt!  Ppphhhffttt! Ppffftttt! Phhfffttt!

Davos started firing his rifle.  Heads exploded and bodies flung around violently as rounds tore into their thoracic cavities.  Hearts and lungs pulped, and hydro shocked into mush.  The surviving men ducked behind car, desperate for cover.  He popped out his first clip, and loaded the second.  The men were firing wildly in all directions till they finally spotted him, and he heard bullets whizzing by and ricochets all around.

Davos’s rifle fired whenever he had a target.  The men were being killed one by one but they were being smart only popping their heads up to take quick shots and moving around behind their cars to constantly change their firing positions.


Joffrey heard the sudden sound of wild gunfire.  He ran to the door to look outside.  He saw cars and dead or dying men on the pavement and sidewalk.  Other men were firing fast and furious all around and then seemed to focus off to the left.  Another man went down.  He was suddenly ripped to the right as the glass door exploded into shards.

Myrcella yelled at him. “Stay under cover damnit!”  She shoved him back and knelt down, taking quick looks out the ruined door.  The man behind the motel counter was crying and screaming as bullets hit his work station with exploding wood splinters and flying papers. 

Joffrey looked outside and felt his stomach drop.  Five men were charging the door.  The lead man’s head exploded.  Then the second man had his throat shredded.  They both flipped around in the air before they hit the ground.  The third man just made the doorway when two bullets hit him in the side up high on his body.  He was flung to the side.  The next two made it through.

Myrcella was a demoness.  Her knife lunged up burying itself into the first man’s belly and she ripped up.  He screamed, dropping his pistol.  The other man stumbled through and pivoted around and kicked Myrcella hard in her ribs.  She screamed and fell over to the side.  The man lifted his Uzi, prepared to riddle her body with bullets.

The sound of a Walther P99 firing hot and fast filled the room. The man with the Uzi body flew to the side as bullets pounded into his body.  Again and again his body was impacted with 9mm ammo fired at point blank range.  Twenty times the trigger was pulled.  Most of the bullets had hit the target at this close range.

Myrcella slammed into a stunned Joffrey, kissing him all over his face.  “You saved me!  You saved me dear sweet brother!  You were a fucking lion!  I knew you had it in you!  I love you!”  Myrcella rained kisses all over his face.  Joffrey was still stunned.  He could not remember picking up the gun but he could not stand by and see his sister killed.

She was his world.

The taxi driver suddenly appeared in the door.  “Get your fucking gear!  We are out of here!”  Joffrey and his siblings stared in shock.

“MOVE!” the man screamed at them, breaking their lethargy.

In a mad scramble they threw their suitcases back in the trunk.  Dead men littered the pavement.  Two of the cars were gone.  The chicken hawks would not forger this.

The taxi sped off.

Joffrey hoped they were not jumping out of the fire and into the inferno.



Chapter Text

That Which Survives



The day had finally come.  The start of Tyron’s Iliad and Odyssey.  The brave Ulysses sailing out to great adventures and harrowing combat.  Tyrion puffed out his chest - then grabbed the back of his neck when a crick developed.

He stood between his two benefactors, Illyrio and Varys.  They were dressed in three-piece business suits.  Tyrion, far more casual, sported khaki cargo pants, a Lysene-print shirt and flip-flops.  He was ready for his voyage.  He had been told he was not booked on a cruise liner, but he imagined a nice modern container ship, or maybe a sleek RO/RO ship.

He looked out at the small column of Cadillac Escalades in front of them, all shiny and new.

“What is it with you criminal and government types all driving phat new rides?” Tyrion asked his hosts.  “Why always Cadillacs, dudes?”

“We believe in keeping the money in the local economy.  No Sunspear Land Rovers or Qarthian BMWs for us.  Good ol’ Essos for this crime family,” Illyrio told the dwarf with a touch of pride.

“Plus, we get great kickbacks from the mega dealership.  We didn’t mention it at the time, but two hit teams from both Pentos and from the Central Ghost Lords of Dothrak tried to snatch you from us on the day we captured—I mean, freed you.”

“I will have you know you have been good for the local economy Tyrion,” Varys told the dwarf.

“How so?”

“Between the four organizations that fought for you, a need for thrity-three replacement Escalades was generated.  The fucking Dothraki drive BMWs, the bastards.  The Valkyrie that was attacked to free you on the high seas survived, but will require four million gold crowns to repair.  Finally, funeral homes across the Free Cities were heavily employed from the sad loss of life in trying to apprehend you.”

Tyrion puffed out his chest (carefully) happy to help put food on family’s plates.

They got into their Escalade, following three up ahead and with a tail of three more following, and started off toward Chequy Port.  Tyrion looked out the windows as they sped up.  He had come to like it in Braavos.

“I will miss this.”

“What do you mean?” Illyrio asked.

“When I am done I will be moving on.  If I am alive.”

He watched the two men look at each other.  Then Varys spoke: “My good dwarf, we want to have you in our employ and give you a percentage of the take, if you’re interested.  We want to make you a junior partner.  A very junior partner, but still a partner.  We see great potential in you.”

Tyrion was shell shocked.  He felt himself choke up a little, but hid it.  He was a good judge of character, and he knew these two men meant it.  Of course he knew it probably meant some more dwarf abuse as well, but he could handle that.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

He would definitely think on it.

“It is not every day you find a dwarf worth his own weight in both the wine and roast beef he consumes liberally,” Varys said with a wink. “You are causing the extinction of an entire species, Tyrion.”

As they arrived at the harbor, he spied the massive ships painted in black, grey and off white.  New, sleek and housing power to spare. As they slowly drove past, the docks became older, and the warehouses worn and half dilapidated with detritus blowing in the breeze around them.  In the distance, he saw several rusty old tankers and colliers. 


The car stopped in front of an ancient freighter, approximately three hundred feet long.  It had its island in the middle of the ship one story high, with a bridge two stories up on the leading edge and a rectangular structure on the aft end of the island that rose up two stories.  The forecastle and fantail had sheet metal roofs on spindly poles that were welded on to the deck. There was a black smoke stack in the middle of the island.  Curved ventilation tubes jutted out the aft end, and the boat was covered in rust from the anchor ports to the back of the fantail. The vessel’s name, ‘Botany Bay’ was barely visible in faded white paint. 

All in all it was… “it’s a piece of shit!” Tyrion cried.

“Tyrion.  I will have you know we saved two hundred and fifty Iron notes putting you on this ship.” Illyrio told him with an earnest look.

Tyrion got out of the SUV and ran to the edge of the dock near the gangplank.  He smelled the sea, mingled with the leaking oil and diesel from the ‘Botany Bay’.

“It is an ecological disaster!  A wave from a bathtub could sink it!  And that name. What do you think this is, a Star Trek episode?!”

“Stop bitching, Tyrion.  You want to travel unnoticed, then this ship is the ticket.  They would expect you take a newer, much faster ride if you went by ship to parts unknown.  This will let you travel incognito.”

Damnit, thought Tyrion.  They’re right.

Another car approached, coming down the dock fast and furious.  For some reason the car was swerving wildly even when there was nothing there to avoid. At the last minute it slowed with squealing brakes, barely missing a mountainous stack of crates and fifty-five gallon drums of oil.  The car, a beat up Chevy Malibu, screeched to a stop.

The passenger door was kicked open and an angry Brienne boiled out.  “Tell me again why you are driving my car again, you fucking maniac.  You can’t even see over the steering wheel!”

Ygritte stormed out of the driver’s side.  “You know nothing, you damn lurch!  Your fucking license is suspended - for doing 25 in a 55 zone!”

“I was driving safe, godsdamnit!”

“Yes.  Course 101.  How to get noticed and shot at a toll booth like Sonny you fucking giraffe!”

“At least I don’t have to pull the seat all the way up and sit on an old telephone book to get my eyes above the steering wheel,  Chihuahua!”

Brienne bent down into the car and picked up a bag and threw it at Ygritte in an arc.

Ygritte caught it.  “What is in it?”  She eyed the bag suspiciously.

“Clairol for the hair on your head and some red ‘Black Betty’ for the hair down there,” Brienne motioned at Ygritte’s crotch.

Ygritte’s face went beet red.  She threw the bag down and kicked it into the water.  “I keep telling you my hair is all natural godsdamnit, you fucking retard!  I am kissed by the sun you bitch!”

“The only thing that kisses your hair is DuPont with all the chemicals you put in it!”

“AARRGGGGG!” Ygritte pulled out a dagger and charged the 6’5” woman.  The tall woman’s eyes went large as she ran to get the car between herself and the half-crazed Wildling.

“And another thing, miss vertically challenged …”

“Fuck you lurch!  I’ll gut you damnit!” Ygritte climbed up on the car, but Brienne ran to the Escalade line and got behind them instead.  The Wildling jumping off the Malibu screaming as she chased Brienne in and out of the SUVs

Is Ygritte natural?” Tyrion asked his employers.

“Of course she is,” Varys replied.  “We took some hair from her brush and analyzed it to make sure.  What with Brienne’s constant comments and all.  She did put ‘fiery redhead’ on her resume, and we felt we had the right to verify.”

With a Cadillac safely between her and Ygritte, Brienne chirped up again. “I refuse to watch another damn episode of Dr. Who.  It sssuucckkksssss!”

“You know nothing! You know nothing! You fucking Lurch!  It is a national treasure, damnit!”

“The only thing I will treasure is flushing your DVDs down the toilet!”

Ygritte gasped, clutching her heart and nearly pricking her chin with her dagger.  “At least I don’t watch those god awful westerns.  What the fuck do you see in Bonanza and Gun Smoke, for crying out loud?!”

“They capture our old west!  They are historical treasure troves of a romantic era gone by!”

“They were shot in small fucking studio lots with horrible background paintings.  They make a normal woman hurl!”

“You take that back, dwarf!”

Hey! Tyrion thought.

“Okay Hoss … Festus … you got the hots for them …”

“Fuck you Ygritte! I’m a gold star lesbian, you… you pillow queen!”

“Fuck you! I love pussy and will suck you off for hours … uh … I mean that metaphorically!”

“At least I don’t watch the Lifetime Channel.  ‘Television for Women’ - those women are psycho or all getting knocked up!”

Ygritte looked nervously over at all the men and the few curious women staring at them intently.

“I do not!  You know nothing Brienne of Tarth!  I hate those movies!”

“How about the one last night you made me watch.  What was it?  Oh let me see—yeah that’s it—‘Fifteen and Pregnant.’ ”  Brienne imitated a television announcer’s voice.  “A girl's pregnancy further tests her siblings and parents, who are already stressed by marital problems.” Then she added: “That Emma Watson can’t act worth a shit.”

“That was Kirsten Dunst, damnit.  And she did an ex-cel-lent …” Ygritte paused, looking at the line of criminals watching her with cocked eyebrows and snickers.  She looked mortified, knowing she had just busted herself.  She gave a blood curdling scream, then hurled herself over the Escalade hood that Brienne was hiding behind.

The tall blonde ran to the mountain of haphazardly stacked crates, her long limbs letting her quickly scale the wooden mountain.  Ygritte was gamely pursuing, but her small stature was a hindrance in her climb. Brienne reached the top and blew Ygritte a raspberry before disappearing down the other side.  Ygritte gave another blood curdling scream and sped up her pursuit.

Tyrion and his bald benefactor walked towards the gangplank.

“When do you think they will shag each other, Tyrion?” Varys asked.  “I have my money on half-way to Asshai.”

“I say the third day there. It will happen in the early afternoon.”

Varys cocked an eyebrow knowing that Tyrion would try to make that happen -  and that it would most likely blow up in his face.

“Be careful, Tyrion.  No one knows that your destination is Asshai but you and your body guards.”  As they spoke, Brienne came flashing by and ran up the gangplank and disappeared into the island.  Five seconds later a fierce Ygritte came snarling by as she followed, cursing under her breath. 

“Why again did you assign these women to protect me?  Are they as good as you say?”  Tyrion had been impressed with their abilities the few instances he saw them, but for the most part they just bickered.  Surely others had skills.

“We think eventually you will have to go to dead zone to figure out the mysteries surrounding your Valyrian prophecies.  Most likely beyond the Wall.  Ygritte came from that land as a child, it is in her bones.  She is the best archer in the world behind Arya Stark, and Brienne is the best swordsman in all the criminal world.  They love each other and will never let each other down.  They are loyal to a fault.  You really can’t do better my lecherous, perverted friend.”

Tyrion glared up at Varys but couldn’t find an argument. 

Arya Stark. He had heard the name again.  That name kept popping up, and he finally remembered where he had heard it before.  He went and bought his mother’s book online and read it over two nights.  He was sure now that Arya Stark was who had saved Daenerys.  For Missandei to be her best friend was beyond a coincidence.  What the hell is happening? Tyrion wondered.

In his research he had stumbled across a book written by his doppelganger from the Golden Age of the Dragon Queens.  It was titled ‘Back-Handed accounts of a Queen's Court’.  His former self at least had a wit, it seemed.  He had read half way through the book so far.  His past self was a coward and naïve.  Not made of the Valyrian steel that he was.

A nearby ship let loose with a mighty blast of his whistle.


Tyrion ran behind Illyrio’s legs to give him cover as he scoped out the situation.

“My gods man—it was just a ship’s whistle!”


Tyrion sat in the small mess hall in the ship eating some potato soup.  The ship was two days out from Braavos, weathering slightly choppy seas. The deck slowly swayed side to side and a yaw fore and aft of several degrees.

He was looking at some nice gonzo porn as he enjoyed his meal.  He had a carry-on bag filled with USB drives labeled with the various types of ‘entertainment’ he had saved on them.  He currently had (TP-Gonzo) plugged in.  He also had drives labeled ‘Lesbos; threesomes and moresomes; wild gangbangs; spanking; electro sex; flogging and whipping; romantic sex; Hardcore Anal; Summer Islander; Interracial’ and more.  His shoulder hurt carrying the heavy bag aboard, but it was well worth it.

He was not able to thoroughly enjoy seeing the filly get fucked airtight, though.

“Someone shoot meeeee!  I’m dying here!  Have mercy!”

Tyrion thought Brienne was being rather melodramatic.  She had a pail by her feet which she had already thrown up into several times. 

“Please—I’m begging you Tyrion … just kill me … oohhhhhh ungggggg!”

Ygritte had been chortling at the tall woman’s plight all morning, and continued to laugh as she walked away. Tyrion sighed, shutting down his media player software.  Can’t enjoy sex with a green looking moaning woman right beside you throwing up.  He called up his truncated notes from his dig and some photos he had of some of the artifacts he had found and set to work instead.

“Why is this ship lurching so hard?!” Brienne whined. The ship was barely rolling beneath them.  Brienne put her fingers to her lips as her throat made ralphing sounds.  She suppressed the urge – this time.

Tyrion studied his photos.  He looked at some tall, twisted candles. The runes on them denoted them as Dragon Glass.  They were three feet tall and twisted in sword-thin spirals.  He had also found two necklaces called Dragon Glass Eyes, with pink stones set in hexagonal settings.  He found discs that were about a foot across and carved with runes that had Valyrian steel that had been poured into the grooves.  The steel alone was beyond priceless; a hundred times stronger than any steel made today. They were called Dragon Bone Hoops. 

But they couldn’t be made of that…. could they?

He also had found some spheres called Sunglow Orbs.  He had no idea what they did either.

“Someone pleaseeeee put me out of my misery!”

A fellow traveler who had gotten on the ship when they left port came into the mess hall.  He was one Illelos Phassahran.  Varys had whispered to Tyrion on the dock that the man was an itinerant welder on his way to Qarth.  He never stayed in one place long, and was in trouble with the law for drunken misconduct.  He had been thoroughly vetted.  The man had booked passage a month before Tyrion had even come into the good graces of his current employers.

The man was not overly tall at about 5’8”.  He had a stout build and wore loose fitting pants and a shirt. He had strong arms and legs with a stocky waist.  He moved with a lightness of step that made Tyrion notice him.  The man appeared to be in his late thirties, with curly hair that was not closely cropped, but not an afro either.  He had a goatee with just a hint of grey starting to show in his trimmed beard.

The man was quiet and dour as he took his meal from the serving line and paid the nominal fee.  He sat at the end of the table.

“Good afternoon my good fellow,” Tyrion greeted the taciturn man.  “Where, pray tell, are you headed to?”  Tyrion already knew from his employers, but wanted to make small talk.  The man just snorted and started to eat. 

There was just something about the man that caught Tyrion’s attention.  He had to be much more than a welder.

“Someone shoot me … have mercy oohhhhhh uunggggg!”

“Why are you taking a freighter and not a jet or the train? Me, I’m destitute. What’s your excuse?” Tyrion asked.

The man glanced at him.  “Scintillating scenery.”

Sarcastic wit.  Tyrion liked him already. 

They ate in silence with Tyrion eyeing the man.  The man ignored the inspection.  Brienne continued moaning and begging for death.

“Mercy! Mercy I beg you!”

The man looked askance at Brienne and shook his head.

For the next five minutes the only sound was the clink of eating utensils and the sounds of an assassin falsely expiring. 

“You are in pretty good shape.  Do you do Pilates?”

“Do you ever shut up?  And for god’s sake answer that woman’s prayers, would you man?!”

Tyrion was contemplating a response when Ygritte returned to the mess hall with an evil glint in her eyes.  In her hands she held a poster board sheet.  Tyrion’s eyebrows narrowed as he wondered what the small bodyguard had in mind.  She walked in with an exaggerated smile radiating innocence.

A still-miserable Brienne looked up at Ygritte and moaned pitifully.  Tyrion thought she looked green around the gills.  It had been a while since Brienne had thrown up, and Tyrion thought it was likely time for Ol’ Faithful to spew again.

“Ygritte … help me Chihuahua … the world is spinning and roiling … my stomach is so fucked up, Wildling … don’t you have some fucking remedy from beyond the Wall” she rasped, “… some fucked up weather dance or something like a fucking mushroom …”

Way to get one, Tyrion thought. But to his surprise, the woman kissed by the sun did not rise to the barbs this time.  Maybe her unacknowledged love for the tall warrior was softening the feisty redhead.  Perhaps Brienne’s misery had finally touched her heart. 

She walked past Tyrion and stood in front of Brienne.  The poster board he had seen was angled downward, swinging in Ygritte’s fingers.  She smiled sweetly at Brienne.

“Are you going to help me or not you fucking shrimp?!”

Brienne did not let her misery stop her acid tongue from insulting her partner.

The man finished his meal and got up.  He went to the trashcan and made a deposit, then put the tray back on the serving counter.  He stopped a moment to look at the two women, then shook his head and left the room.

Tyrion was curious to see what Ygritte was playing at. Slowly, she started to bring up the poster board.  Tyrion’s eyes widened.  Ygritte had drawn a sketch like a five year old, of a boat on waves across the board. She started to rock the poster board, making the little ship look like it was fighting the waves.  She started to make ‘wind’ sounds of a storm as she rocked it.

Brienne hiccupped, looking much more green.  “You evil wench!” Brienne weakly bleated, her arms crossed over her stomach.  “Ohhh oohh oohhh!”

Ygritte made louder swishing wind sounds and rocked the boat violently.


Brienne violently hurled into the pail, the sounds harsh as bile came out the blonde’s nose in long streamers.  She sounded like she was going to hack her entire stomach up. 

“Oohhhhh fuckkkkkk! You fucking bitch you!”

Tyrion kind of felt sorry for the tall woman. 

Brienne ralphed a little more, and then finally dry-heaved to completion. She sat back and used the back of her hand to wipe her face. 

“You are so mean to me, Ygritte.”  All of a sudden Brienne burst into tears, her chest rattling with great, wracking sobs.  She kept moaning about how vilely Ygritte was treating her. Elephant tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ygritte was obviously starting to feel bad for tormenting her partner.  She stepped in. “Oh Brienne I—wwwhhaattttt! Aarrgggggg!”

Brienne suddenly lurched forward and got her left arm around the Wildlings red head and jerked her down, bending her over at the waist.  Her right hand came up and started to rub her knuckles furiously back and forth, pressing hard into the Widling’s scalp in a brutal noogie.

“You bitch!  You fucking bitch!” the tiny bodyguard screamed,  her hands gripping the arm holding her head and jerking hard, trying to dislodge her head from the powerful grip.  Her efforts jerking Brienne’s arm lock up.  Ygritte was squirming wildly, but Brienne was jerking her arm up and down keeping the Wildling off-balance.  Tyrion smiled.  The Wilding could kill with her hands and feet, but she refrained.  Not one blow was thrown at Brienne.

“I still feel like shit you little shit, but I feel a hell a lot of better giving you a noogie!  Takes my mind off my misery, you fucking cunt!”

“You know nothing Brienne—aarrrnnggggg! You fucking bitch - uunngggggg! Arrruunngggg!”

“I know something Ygritte,” Brienne sing-song “I know I’m giving you a noogie!”

“I’ll get you for this you fucking bigfoot!”

Brienne suddenly released Ygritte who stumbled forward, rubbing her scalp. She staggered.  In all her gyrations, her jeans had ridden low and her boxers were exposed.

She remained partially bent over, rubbing her scalp.  “You will pay for this, Brienne.  I will teach you to mess with fire!  I will - aaaaiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried out, rising up on her tiptoes.

Brienne had reached forward and gripped the elastic of Ygritte’s boxers and jerked them up, pulling them up nearly six inches and giving Ygritte a royal wedgie!  Brienne rose up on wobbly legs, still jerking upward as Ygritte hopped and walked around on tippy toes, screaming threats the whole time.

Tyrion got up and went to take his tray to the serving window.  As he left, Brienne finally released Ygritte’s boxers.  The Wildling continued staggering around, walking very funny as she jerked down her jeans and boxers at her hips.

“Right! Right!—I’ll get you for this you fucking lurch.  That hurt my pussy, you fucking twat!  That is fighting below the belt!”

Brienne laughed hard.  Big mistake.  She suddenly became very green and fell to her knees, tilting forward onto her palms and barfing more bile up from her queasy stomach.  She heaved again and again into the bucket, till she nearly dropped to the floor.

Her head hung down, her hair in disarray.  Snot dribbled out her nose, and her eyes became bloodshot. 

Tyrion felt sorry for her. With her head bent over like that… she never saw it coming.

Aaaaiiii! Eeeeiiiii! Aaaiieeeee! Mmnngghiieee!

The tall warrior squealed as Ygritte whipped her ass furiously with the belt she had removed from around her waist.  Her jeans around her ankles, her free hand still was still jerking her boxers out of her ass crack and pussy cleft.  She wildly swung her other arm, whipping her fated love.

Tyrion finally left, shaking his head.  He would never understand love.  For those two, that was equivalent to a Shakespeare love sonnet. 

He walked down the corridors that led to the small room he was sleeping in.  He had hoped for a bigger bed, one that he could actually sleep in comfortably.  Oh well.  He had plenty of USB hard drives with hot porn, and you didn’t need a comfortable bed to enjoy that!

He was nearing his room when the stranger was suddenly in front of him.  Tyrion was startled.  He was a man who liked to keep track of his local environment, but he hadn’t even heard him approach.  For this man to just appear like he did confirmed his earlier suspicions.

“You ask a lot of questions, midget.”

Tyrion ground his teeth.  “I have an inquiring mind.  I work for the Inquirer.”

“You think you are funny, don’t you midget?”

“That is dwarf, damnit!  I am a dwarf.  A damn good looking dwarf, I might add.”

The man looked at Tyrion with a cocked eyebrow.  “Whatever you say, midget.  Must not have mirrors where you come from.”

“Hardy har-har.  So tell me the truth about yourself.  What are you?  Huummmmm?  You are not a welder …” Tyrion cursed himself.  The man had not told Tyrion what his profession was.  Damnit, would his mouth ever stop getting him into trouble?

The man glared down at him.  “You are playing a dangerous game, midget.”

Tyrion decided it was best not to correct the man at this moment.  He would have his time.  A Lannister always pays his debts.  Well, usually. 



“I think I will tell you why I am here on this old, broken down heap of a piece of shit ship.  Then of course I will have to kill you. I am here …”

Squeeeeeeee! Sqqquueeeee!

Tyrion started to run down the hall, but a hand gripped his shoulder. 

Sqqueeeeeeeee! Sqquueeeeee!

“Calm down, midget.  Damn, don’t you have a spine?” Tyrion continued to squeal.  “Damnit! I’m not going to kill you.”  The man released Tyrion, who turned around with big eyes.

“I killed a man with my rapier.  He called me to a duel.  We fought.  He lost.”

Tyrion’s heart finally began to slow.

“Why the duel? A woman?  A man?  Money?  Bad hair day?”

“You never stop do you?  I admire that.  The mouse that bleats against the lion.” The stranger sighed. “He was vile and evil.  He was going to kill all of the children at a party to get at just one child of a rival.  I could not countenance that.”

The man turned to leave.  “You have your answer, midget.”

The stranger started walking down the narrow hall.  “That is dwarf, damnit!”  Tyrion silently flipped off the retreating form.  The man whirled in a flash, and Tyrion screamed with a dagger now nailing his foot to the floor.  The blade pierced his shoe, the thin blade between his big toe and the next toe.

Tyrion stared down at the blade nailed into the soft tin of the floor with large moonstone eyes.  The man walked off without a word.

Tyrion knew who the man was, then.  He took a deep breath.  This was probably either very, very good - or very, very bad.

Chapter Text

That Which Survives

New Foundations


The eggs were perfect.  Sansa had scrambled them the way Margaery liked, nice and well done without being runny.  She had had also cooked an omelet filled with cheese.  She had some bacon already done, and was preparing a few slices of toast. She put the eggs on the plate, then set it on a heating pad to keep them nice and warm.

She walked down the cherry-wood hall of penthouse suite they owned in Oldtown.  She enjoyed the sensation of her toes pressing into the red tinted wood as she made her way to the end of the hall and politely knocked on the door.  She waited a minute, and then tried the doorknob.  It was unlocked.  She grimaced.  She still did not feel comfortable going into the bedroom of her wife.  It was a bedroom that she did not share. 

Sansa knew she had to make things right again.  Margaery had had her share of faults in the dissolution of their marriage, but she knew she had lost her way in the corporate Game of Thrones that the giant pharmaceutical companies played with each other.

She walked into the bedroom and spied her wife asleep, her cheek on her pillow.  She had kicked off the sheet in the night.  They had both always slept in the nude, and she saw that Margaery still did.  Her firm ass made Sansa’s tummy ache.  It had been so long since she had caressed those firm ass cheeks and fucked Margaery up her tight asshole.  She sighed.

She walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at her beautiful wife.  She was still a vision of perfection.  Age had only enhanced Margaerys’ beauty, her body filled in with maturity.  She saw the swell of Margaery’s breast, and remembered ravishing those beautiful tits.  Sucking half of her wife’s small doves into her mouth and trying to suck her nipples down her throat.  The way Margaery screamed in pleasure as she did.

Sansa sighed.  It had been so long - two years, eleven months, and twelve days - but who was counting?  She had lost track of making love to Margaery until she had recently back tracked to the last time . It had been a half hearted effort, she recalled.  Gods, the damage was already severe even then.  It had been two months before that since they had made love.  She frowned.  So much damage

Once, they could not keep their hands off each other.  Gods, the sex had been Earth shattering.

She continued to stare down at her wife.  She wanted to call out to her, but she looked so peaceful.  She started to reach down to touch her and wake her, but pulled her hand back.  The tall redhead gnawed her lip.  She did not have the right to touch her wife.  She started to turn around and leave, not knowing what to do.  She grimaced.  I am married to the woman in that bed and I don’t know what to say or do with her anymore

Sansa headed for the door.

“I don’t bite you know, Sansa.  You can touch me.  I am your wife.”

Sansa shuffled her feet, looking down.  “Your breakfast is ready Margaery.  I fixed your favorite.  Just the way you like.”

“Thank you Sansa.  That is most thoughtful.”

Sansa no longer heard the sarcasm that used to be in any conversation they had.  It was a simple , genuine ‘thank you’.  Sansa was grateful for that.  It was progress. 

She loved Margaery so much.  She simply had to win her wife back. Her body had gone dead somewhere along the line, she was still trying to figure out when it started.  How had she allowed it to happen?  How did a corporation supplant Margaery as the love of her life?  Sansa was still trying to find the answer to those questions.

She fled the room, the questions about her failures like ravens flitting about her head.  Their beaks slashing at her confidence and her pecking her will.


Sansa and Margaery sat in the local corporate office of their company in Oldtown.  It had once been Beyer Pharmaceutical before Stark-Tyrell Pharmaceutical had bought them out in a hostile takeover. 

The acquired division focused on genome research and was deciphering the genomes of cancers and flu.  Margaery was convinced that the high population centers in Yi Ti and their cultural practice of keeping their chickens and pigs in their habitations and the restaurants was a ticking time bomb.  From these places the next deadly flu strain would be born.

The swine and poultry versions of the influenza virus had already caused pandemics.  It had been a century since the last influenza pandemic had swept across the world, killing thirty million people.  Modern medicine and care for sick patients would reduce the mortality rate the next time one broke out, but the pandemic would keep people home for long periods of time.  Most out of pure fear.  The modern economy might not survive the hit.  Inventories would run dry, people would go hungry and gasoline would dry up. 

Or maybe the ‘bug’ would be more virulent. 

You never knew when infections would jump species.  One only had to look at the AIDS virus to see that.  In primates it was harmless.  In humans it had ravaged the gay community before it had jumped to the straight population.  Sansa felt her blood boil.  It had not been till the straights and breeders felt threatened that funding was suddenly found to tackle the problem.

The world was evolving beyond homophobia, but it was still far from perfect.  She was thankful she had been able to marry Margaery Tyrell - now she just had to work on not getting a divorce. 

She would not survive that.  She had not been telling Margaery a lie when she said that she could not live without her.  Even if her body lived, her soul would be dead.

Margaery was looking over the packet of the lead scientist for the division.  She was living up to her end of the new agreement. She was talking softly to Petyr Baelish.  Sansa controlled her jealousy.  Something had changed between Margaery and Petyr.  She knew she was in the man’s debt - after he had his private conversation with Margaery, she had changed. She was now learning the corporate side of the company, and Sansa was getting involved in the labs again.  This was good.

What Sansa was not sure she liked was the easy camaraderie that had developed between Margery and Petyr.  Sansa had to reign herself in continually.  If there was one thing Sansa knew about the man, it was that he was not a man of passions. Plus, he had a thing for redheads. 

Just the same, seeing Margaery more comfortable around Petyr than her was not something she liked one bit.

Sansa gnawed the inside of her cheek.  She was working on it.  Margaery was meeting her half way now.  That was all she could ask for.

While eating their morning repast earlier, they had discussed the latest financial reports.  Sansa was both pleased and impressed with how quickly Margaery had picked up the financials of the multi division of their companies.

They were going to all of the major divisions to get Margaery up to speed as she was quickly absorbing the business aspects of each.  For her part, Sansa had visited the labs to get caught up on the projects.

Margaery had gone over the projects of this particular division twice.  Their lead scientist was brilliant.  She was a redhead.  She had wondered it Petyr would find her interesting till she read the full bio of the woman.  She knew of her academic credentials, but there was some personal information in there too.  She smiled.  She was married to a woman.  Petyr was out of luck. 

Sansa looked at a picture of the scientist and told Margaery she doubted the woman would be his type.  Margaery had chuckled and agreed.  Sansa felt a little flush hearing Margaery chuckle at a comment from her. It was another small thing that gave her hope.

The lead scientist would be joining them in a moment.  She was an excellent researcher, but Sansa hoped she was ready for more responsibility. Sansa looked over the file again.  The person did not identify as gender specific.  She hoped she would not screw up the personal pronouns. 

There was a polite knock on the door.  Petyr got up and answered it.

“Please enter, LaFontaine.  We are pleased to have you visit us.  We have heard many good things about you and your research.  Margaery tells me your research is meticulous and very insightful.”

“Thank you, sir,” the woman responded politely - and a little shyly.

Sansa looked at the short woman.  She was stocky, and wore a lab coat that hid her features.  She had a short waist, and was not long of leg.  She had her hair cut short very short on the sides of her head, and longer on the right side of her head.  She had hazel eyes, and wore no makeup or lipstick.

Sansa thought she looked like the perfect nerd.  She spied the short nails and rings on her fingers.  A perfect lesbian scientist nerd.  Can’t ask for much better than that.

They spent the next thirty minutes talking about the various projects that division was currently working on.  Lafontaine spoke clearly and succinctly on all matters. 

Margaery had insisted on laying out all the major schedules and signing off on each stage of the experiments and assigning priorities. “LaFontaine, I have read your reports and they are beyond exemplary.  I could not have done better myself.  I am very impressed.  I have held you back in your projects with wanting to review each stage of the experiments.”

“No you did not, Miss Tyrell.  I have been—“

Margaery interrupted the scientist gently.  “Yes I have, LaFontaine.  I have been overbearing, and was a snob about it.”

The scientist went quiet.

“I have been holding back many projects and clipping the wings of my best scientists.”

Sansa saw the scientist start.  What a strange reaction. 

“I am letting go of a lot of the reigns I have held on to with an iron grip.  There are way too many projects for me to oversee.  I have not let brilliant scientists take their research down paths I would never even have thought of.

“Miss Lafontaine.  I want to promote you to manager of this division.  I want you to continue your personal research as well, but I want you to be the lead scientist of this group.  You will report to me, but you will manage the projects of this division and its researchers.  Are you up to the challenge LaFontaine?  I think you are.”

The small woman thought about it for about half a second with a stunned look, before a big smile spread across her face.

“You bet I am!  Gods my wife will be so happy!”

Sansa had to smile at that.  True love.


Three hours later and it was time to have their video conference with the Martell Corporation, a multidivisional company that had many different focuses.  One was the production of nano technology that had many promising applications. 

Margaery wanted to explore the idea of using their nano machines to help in the repair of nerve damage to the spinal column, and the destruction of blood clots.

The woman running the Martell Corporation would not sell the company, but was willing to give exclusive access to her technology for medical applications to Stark-Tyrell Pharmaceutical.

Sansa looked over the folder of Arianne Martell again.  She was a fellow barracuda, Sansa thought.  The woman was ambitious and very aggressive in fending off any acquisition attempts of any of her holdings.  Arianne was the predator, and not the prey.

The large LCD TV came to life as the video connection came online.

Arianne Martell came up on the screen.  The woman was 5’7” and voluptuous.  She looked like she should be in a Bollywood movie with her flawless brown skin and jet black hair.  She had dark piercing eyes in a heart shaped face with high cheekbones, giving her a hint of aggressive angles. 

A fellow predator indeed.

The other conference room was obviously set up in Arianne’s own home.  Her bedroom, from the look of the king sized bed behind the woman.  It looked like a cyclone had hit it.  What isthis woman trying to convey? Sansa wondered.

Introductions were made all around, then Arianne held out her hand.  “Come here, Kaithlyn Ryswell.”  Sansa heard the woman demure off camera, but Arianne insisted.

“I want them to meet our head of security and my wife to be … get your ass over her Kaithlyn!” Arianne barked playfully.  She heard the woman giggle.

Sansa felt a wave of jealousy flash through her body.  That was how she and Margaery used to be.

The woman came to the screen and sat beside Arianne.  Sansa gasped.  The woman was beautiful. 

The rest of the meeting was hard boiled negotiations over patents and schedule of fees.  Arianne was never satisfied with the terms.  Sansa was distracted.  Peytr stepped in and dickered back and forth with the two women.  Kaithlyn cried out that they were trying to board their ship. 

The negotiations closed with an agreement that Stark-Tyrell Pharmaceutical would send a contract, and their lawyers fight it out over the clauses.

After they signed off, Margaery turned to Sansa.  “You recognized that woman.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Sansa replied.

She saw the hurt and anger flare in Margaery’s eyes.

“Okay. Okay.  I am sorry.  Forgive me Margaery … and you too Petyr.  Yes, I know who that woman is.  I used to sneak peeks at Arya’s files when she visited before the family blow up.”

There was silence.

“Who is she, then?” Margaery spoke softly.  Margaery knew that if Arya had a file on the woman, then she was a deadly threat.

“Asha Greyjoy.”

The table was dead silent.


“Sansa Stark recognized me” Asha told her lover.  “I don’t know how a fucking scientist knows about me, but she does.  This is not good.”

“It is not a problem, love.  She knows about you because her sister is Arya Stark.”  Arianne took her woman’s hand and brought it up to her lips and kissed it gently. 

Arianne knew the story.  Asha was fighting her brothers Rodrik and Maron and her uncles Euron and Victarion for control of their empire after her father Balon had died.  They had agreed to have a parlay at the Isle of Elephants. 

Asha had told her the story many times, but Arianne never tired of hearing it. She knew the corporate Game of Thrones well, but the possibility of death at any moment was exciting.  It had drawn Arianne to Asha the moment she saw her.  Of course the woman being drop dead gorgeous as well did not hurt.  Her gaydar had pinged so hard the moment Asha had gotten into the taxi she thought she might go deaf.

The family scions of House Greyjoy had met at a neutral site.  Arianne had listened the first time Asha told the story with bated breath.  Asha had described how she had gone to the meeting with heightened senses, her adrenaline pumping hard and her hands shaking with anticipation.  She had sensed an ambush.

When she went into the meeting at the largest conference room at the Ritz-Carlton in the capital Zabhad, Asha had seen that her brothers and uncles were just as wired as she had been.  Everyone was armed to the teeth, expecting betrayal.

Asha’s youngest brother Theon had called her the night before the meeting, saying he was not going.  He knew that it was an ambush.  She had tried to get him to tell her who the Kraken was, but he would not say.  He begged her to not go.  Asha had told her cowardly brother that she feared nothing and hung up.

Seeing everyone around the table on edge and eyeing everyone else had unsettled Asha.  What the hell was going on?

Twenty minutes into the meeting with all the shouting and finger pointing, the world exploded in gunfire and grenades.  Fortunately, everyone had come prepared.  Bullets had been fired in all directions and explosions reverberated around the conference rooms.  Each faction of House Greyjoy had come prepared for fun, loaded with arms and plenty of muscle to use it.

Arianne still loved hearing Asha tell about how she gunned down any person who was not of her clan.

What had become quickly evident to Asha was that all of House Greyjoy was under assault.  She had seen M8 and Boneyard agents, she had seen Chen Shih-chieh the Ghostmaker, and Barristan Selmy the Knight Templar in the melee. 

It seemed like everyone was killing everyone else.  Asha could not trust anyone except men and women she knew of her own clan.  She had shot anyone armed that was not hers.  There was one woman who had a bead on her, and her head exploded with a well-aimed rifle shot. 

She was escaping when she saw Victarion in a side waiting room.  He had his mute woman with him.  He was trying to force her to blow a damn horn for some reason.  The woman was signing and crying as she turned her head from side to side.  He roared and punched her.  She was only half-conscious, and again he tried to get her to blow the horn.

When the woman still would not, he became enraged.  Asha did not know how the woman found the courage to not do as the giant man who was her uncle threatened her.  He reached over to the wall and hefted up his traditional double-headed ax. She was helpless, and he was going to behead her.  Her uncle was a fucking coward.

She had pulled out her throwing axes when the melee started.  They were hanging on loops at her hips.  She snapped them off.

“Victarion!  You coward, fight a woman who will kill you!”

Her uncle turned and laughed.  “I will cut your worthless head in two, you fucking cunt!”

Asha had made their fight sound so freaking exciting, Arianne thought.  His massive blade constantly missing Asha as she used speed and agility against the power and bulk of her uncle.  Asha always told Arianne that speed and agility would always overcome strength and power. 

For over eight minutes, they fought across three meeting rooms and two conference rooms.  Bullets whizzing by their heads and bodies unheeded.  They were focused only each other. 

Victarion was covered in nicks and cuts all over.  Asha always just out of reach.  She had tripped over a dead body, barely avoiding a side swipe of Victarion’s blade.  She was on her ass, looking up at her death.  Her uncle was grinning down at her.

“I told I would be the death of you!  AARRRRGGGGGGGGG!” Victarion’s body flung to the side when an arrow sunk clean through his right shoulder, the grey and white fletching only six inches in front of his chest and the arrow tip out through his back.

He spun away and was gone.

A Boneyard agent came up with her pistol drawn in her left hand a bow clutched in her right hand.  She picked up the rune covered horn Asha’s uncle had been trying to force the mute woman to blow, and threw it to Asha. Then she turned and started to leave.

“Wh—what?  You are letting me live?!” Asha asked the agent. 

“You saved that woman when you did not have too.  GO!”

“Who are?  I need to know!”

“Arya Stark!  GO!”

Then the woman was gone.

Asha had fled into the confusion of the night.

She had wound up in taxi with Arianne who was at a business conference on the island.  The rest, as they say, was history.

“What do we do Arianne?  I am supposed to be dead.  This Sansa knows I am alive.”

“You have nothing to fear, Asha.”

“How can you know that Arianne?”

“Three reasons.  One:  She wants to do business with my company.  She will not harm that possibility.  Two:  I will send her an email in a minute telling her what happened on the Isle of Elephants.  How you saved a helpless woman.”

“How will that change anything?”

“Three:  She is a Stark.”


LaFontaine was thrumming with excitement driving home in their Telsa electric car. Their wife had made sure they had the car of their dreams.  She always doing things like that.  Their wife wanted them to drive a car that impacted the environment the least.  Their wife always took care of them so good.

They could not believe their good fortune.  They just loved doing research, but being recognized for their abilities and merits was so nice.

They had had to spend so many years not able to show their unique self, forced to play by the rules of society.  Only in the last couple of generations had rights for the LBGTQ community finally reached a zenith of acceptance.

They whistled a tune they had heard while in university so many years ago.  It was a nice pavane that had been in vogue when they first met their wife.

When they arrived at their townhouse, they went up the walkway to the house with a bounce in their step.

They entered their home, and looked around at the large living room area and then up at the loft bedroom on the back end of the townhouse.  The high arched ceiling was the main reason they had purchased this domicile.  “Lola!  I’m home.  Guess what!”

Their wife appeared at the rail on the inside edge of their bedroom loft.

LaFontaine thought their wife was so beautiful.  They had thought this so many times over the last six thousand years.  Lola looked down at them as she truly appeared, her blue faceted eyes glittering as they caught the light and threw it back in rainbow hues.  Her feathery antenna was twitching on unseen air currents, and her wings quivered behind her, almost translucent while giving off spangles of color.  The gossamer wings started to flutter red, blue and purple.  Their currents made the ringlets of her long, red hair flutter.

The Faery was all excited to see her beloved.  “What honey?”

“I was put in charge of my lab!  I was recognized for my efforts and abilities.  I met with the CEO’s of the company.  I had no idea I would meet Sansa and Margaery.  They were so nice!”

Their wife’s wings started to beat fast and she lifted off and went over the rail, and was down to her wife in a flash that most humans could not follow.  They had had many centuries to adjust to the speed of their wife when she was excited.

Next thing they knew LaFontaine was up in the air being kissed all over their face and on their lips sweetly by their beautiful and so kind wife.  Their wife was making her strange humming sound that was like a cat’s purr.  LaFontaine felt their wife’s feathery antenna sweeping over their face and their throat when their wife nibbled on their ear, making LaFontaine pant.

They had been nonplussed when they first discovered that Lola’s antenna stroking their face, breast and pussy when they made love had also been their wife marking them as hers.  That LaFontaine only belonged to her, and her alone.  The Heir Apparent of the Queen of the Fairy.  Lola laid her pheromones on their, body marking them.

LaFontaine had been so happy learning that.  They loved being claimed by Lola.  They had not known then that it meant they would, in essence, become immortal living with Lola.  They had been upset at first, but living with Lola precluded all other thoughts.

They were now on their bed, and Lola was ripping off their clothes.  LaFontaine was always amazed at the change in Lola when it came to their lovemaking.  In her business and in their interactions in public she was shy and very orderly and focused.  When she was excited and ready to fuck, she was a wild woman.  It was LaFontaine that was the prude when it came to sex.  She blushed at their wife’s potty mouth. When their lovemaking was finished and LaFontaine was asleep, they knew that Lola would flitter to all their clothes all over their home and neatly fold them up and put them away in the clothes hamper before she came back to bed.

Several hours later LaFontaine was exhausted soaked in their and Lola’s sweat and cum.  Her wife’s wings were folded over their bodies, her feathery antennae were stroking Lafontaine’s forehead and hair.

“Will you ever stop marking me as yours, Perry?”


LaFontaine snorted.  “How was business at your bakery today honey?”

“Good.  I think we will need to hire two new bakers.  I love making pastries, cakes and cookies.”  Lola sighed.

LaFontaine knew their love loved making edibles that were cherished by her patrons.

Their hand snaked underneath Lola’s wings, rubbing sensually the wing root just inside her left shoulder blade.

Lola started to purr in satisfaction.  LaFontaine had tried to figure out how she made that sound.  Just like scientists had not been able to figure out how cats purred, LaFontaine had not figured out Lola’s purring.

“I’m getting horny again, baby.” Lola growled.

LaFontaine smiled.  They continued rubbing the erogenous zone on their wife’s Faery body.

“Before we make love, I want to you know I sensed them again today.” Perry husked to her wife.

“Really?  It has been over three hundred years.” LaFontaine replied.

Perry started wiggling against LaFontaine, her wings up and fluttering in her horniness.  “I know.  We have not heard of them since that blow up in Pentos.”

“Do you think they know we are here?”

“No baby.  They just arrived a few weeks ago.  I was not sure at first, but I can smell their pheromones on the wind.  Each Vampire and Werewolf have their own unique scent.”

It has been so long, they thought to themselves.  They had missed them.  “Unngggggg!”

LaFontaine forgot all about their long lost friends.  Lola kissed along their throat and up to their mouth with soft kisses.  Lola’s long Faery tongue was soon down her throat stroking their throat lining putting her pheromones directly into their bloodstream.  Their love’s antenna stalks fluttered all over their face with that heavenly feel all the while marking LaFontaine as her slut. 

Lola’s right hand now traveling down their palpating belly heading toward their sopping wet pussy.  Lola was insatiable and her pheromones had them totally reenergized and super horny again.

It was a rough job being a human mate to a perpetually horny Faery Princess.   They smirked.  Oh—the sacrifices they made.


Chapter Text

That Which Survives

Mission Gone Awry


Daenerys was nearly bouncing off the seat of the Chevy Surburban.  After training for so long, Arya was driving them to their first mission.  It was one that would be filled danger - and she was royally stoked!  She couldn’t wait to prove herself to Arya and Andi.  Arya especially.  Arya had argued with Chen Shih-Chieh on her behalf again, until he had finally relented and allowed them to come along.  It had warmed Daenerys’ heart to hear the sincerity in Arya’s argument for her to come on the mission.

Chen Shih-Chieh had continued insisting to Arya that Daenerys was not ready. Finally, she had heard enough.

“Listen Shih-Chieh.  I am ready!”  I have mastered both the pistol and rifle.  I am in not Arya’s conditioning shape yet, but I am getting there.  I will be able to handle the situation.  I can feel it.”

“You are not ready,” the man form Yi Ti told Dany.

“Listen here, Ghostie!  If I am this supposed Dragon Queen, then let me be her!  If I have a destiny to fulfill, then don’t clip my wings.”

Shih-Chieh stared at her.  “Don’t call me that name again,” he said darkly.

“Ghostie! Ghostie! Ghostie!”

Arya had disobeyed the Ghostmaker’s implicit instructions to not let Daenerys know of any mission they would be conducting.  Arya thought Dany was ready, and was working actively to sabotage her sponsor’s efforts.

The man threw up his arms in exasperation.  He saw Missandei smirking.  “You will have to leave Missandei behind.  She is definitely not ready.”

Missandei was stricken.  Dany felt her heart clutch, seeing her love look like that.  She looked as if they had taken away all of her sets of Dr. Who blu-rays.

“Andi is coming, Shih Chieh.” Arya announced calmly.  “Where we go, she goes.  We will provide the protection and she will provide intelligence.”

The former head of Yi Ti counter-intelligence pinched his temples with his thumb and middle finger.  “Yes, you were the three headed dragon in the past age.  But … Arya was the blade, Daenerys was the diplomat, and Missandei was the intel.  Daenerys had a whole army to support her back then.  I am not a whole army.”

Daenerys stepped up to the man, looking at him intently.  “That was then.  This is now.  In this time we are equals.  We fight as one.  If we are to become what you say we must be, then let us be it as we see fit.  We are all going. Period.  End of story.  Do I make myself clear?  We decide our destiny.”

The man looked at her hard for a minute.  Then he bowed his head in deference. 

“It would seem the Three Headed Dragon is indeed reborn.”

Andi ran up to Dany and hugged her fiercely, and then Arya.

“I won’t let you down.  I swear it!”

Arya had blushed in her cute way.  “I know you won’t Brianiac.”  Andi had beamed at the use of the affectionate nickname Arya used sometimes instead of Lil Einstein. 

Now they were en route to the ambush site.  Daenerys was checking over her M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System, making sure the firing mechanism was ready and well oiled.  She sighted down the scope. She would be using the system to lay down suppressing fire from a distance of no more than five hundred yards.  Easy range for the 7.62mm ammo they would be using.  She had magazine satchel full of 20 round clips. 

Arya was using a FR F2 sniper rifle.  It was developed by the Pentos Special Forces and also used 7.62mm ammunition. It was a black bolt action rifle that only had a 10 round clip.  Arya would serve as the sniper, aiming to thrill and shooting to kill.  The rifle had an effective range of 800 meters, well within parameters for their upcoming skirmish.

Arya made sure the scope was anchored and aligned properly.

The back end of the Suburban had the bucket seat taken out.  Andi was on the floor there, going over the control module to the Boomerang III system she had talked ‘Ghostie’ into buying for her so she could monitor the gunfire patterns in the coming battle.  The intel would be used to coordinate the deployment of their forces. 

They would be positioned on top of an abandoned ten story office tower. Thirty years ago, it had provided offices for the merchants that had been thriving when the docks in this section of the harbor had been booming. But so much work moving offshore to Yi Ti had killed the manufacturing sector, and the businesses that specialized in shipping overseas.

The abandoned area of the harbor was a perfect place to smuggle in guns and drugs.

Which was why they were going to be there tonight.  A new crime family had moved in from Dorne and they were bringing 100 kilos of smack every week and aggressively expanding their territory. They were fighting the established gangs, and trying to actively push drugs to schools.

Chen Shih-Chieh had found that his breaking point.  There was a major shipment of 500 kilos due in tonight.  They were also bringing in meth for the first time, and the leaders of the new cartel were be there to make certain that all went well. Shih-Chieh’s informants in a drug runner family had tipped him off.

They had three days to prepare the ambush.  The Chaldean Gang feared nobody and were willing to fight viciously for any gain in territory and business.

Chen Shih-Chieh was going to teach them the error of their ways.

Each of them went over their pistols, Glock-19s.  Dany had to chuckle at Andi having one in a holster on each hip, and two in her waistband along her back.  She told them she was “loaded for bear!”.  She had become a decent shot.  She was not a marksman like Arya or Dany, but she always hit the kill zone now.

Each woman had eight spare clips for their Glocks attached to their belts.  Arya was a big believer that you could never have too much ammunition in a firefight.

Andi was most excited to climb up the fire escape to their perch on the abandoned office tower.  She wanted to see the mast sections that were to be erected by them with the acoustic receiver antennas assembled on them.  The system had to be kept in sections until ready for use, so as not to be seen by their enemies.

Dany suspected the new toy was making Andi wet.  She smiled.  If the Boomerang was a woman, she would be jealous as hell of it capturing her Andi’s attention so.  She looked at Andi in her jeans and camo top with its digital splotchy pattern.  They were all similar dressed for cover.  She loved the bulge to the top of Andi’s shirt.

She needed to stop being a chicken shit and seduce the girl!

She turned over to Arya.  She had her AR-15 out and was inspecting it again.   That tower would have some awesome firepower on it.

Near dusk they entered the shipyard through an old padlock gate that was half-dilapidated and rusted.  It had a tangled mess of barbwire all wound throughout it. 

They were the fourth vehicle in a six vehicle convoy.  The lead vehicle pressed a remote control and the gate opened easily.  The dilapidated look was just a sham to throw off their scent.  The cars moved in slowly, the engines and heavy mufflers designed to keep the acoustic signature low. 

The drug cartel would be coming in through the main gate on the other side of the shipyard.  The clandestine meeting was set for midnight.

How appropriate, Dany thought to herself.

The line moved like a silent adder slithering among the underbrush of abandoned warehouses, office spaces and machine repair shops.  The cars each slowed to a stop at each corner, until a scout called them forward cautiously. 

They were all getting anxious.  Dany looked at Arya, who stared out the window at nothing in particular.  She was sure that Arya was going into a centered space to find balance before the standoff.  Dany was bouncing her feet on the floorboard in her excitement.  She was about to see combat for the first time!  She looked over at Andi, who seemed lost in another world.  She had clearly fallen in love with her Boomerang III acoustic signature device.  She was flipping from page to page in the manual, memorizing the controls and how to analyze the data on her computer.

Finally, the cars had gone as far as they could into the abandoned port city without being spotted. Like a snake sloughing off its old skin, the doors opened and the passengers disembarked.  They turned and reached into the Suburbans and Escalades, pulling out their army style rucksacks.  Missandei grunted with the effort, but her months of training within Ghostie’s dojo had strengthened her.

“I may be a lover, but I’m an awesome lover now!” Missandei had crowed this morning, all stoked with the upcoming military sojourn.  She had flexed her arms in classic weightlifter bicep curl position and kissed her little guns.  “Look at these cannons!”

“They look more like derringers, Andi.” Arya had teased.

Andi would have blushed if her complexion was not so dark.

“You wait till I am fucking that hot, tight pussy with these ‘derringers’; hammering your cunt till it explodes and your pussy is rupturing and cum is splattering everywhere!” Andi had shot back.  It had been a kill shot.

Arya’s face had gone beet red, and her eyes unfocused.  Then she had said she needed to go out and get something.  She left in a hurry.  Andi had come over to Dany smirking.  She made a motion of marking a tally sheet.   “Score another one for the Brianiac!”

They had both laughed so hard.  Seeing Andi like that made Dany’s blood boil with fire for the girl.  One day she would screw up her courage and take what was hers.  What was waiting for her.  Then they would take what was waiting for both of them.  Arya Stark. 

The Targaryen returned to the present.  It was ironic, really – The Ghostmaker hadn’t wanted them to be a part of this mission, but it was the Ghostmaker’s own hard training had made it impossible to prevent Dany and Andi from doing just that.  Dany hoped it was the first of many.  Striking blows against evil had a certain feel to it.  She liked it.  She liked it a lot.

The trio helped each other to properly positon and synch up each other’s rucksacks, setting them up on their backs and the shoulder straps tight.  The packs were full of additional ammo, tools for setting up their positions, and their body armor if they chose to wear it.  They were also bringing nutrition bars and plenty of water, and a first aid kit containing bandages, gauze, wraps and morphine.  They had a man and woman in their party trained to military medic standards in case things went south.

The Suburbans all had three bench seats, except for the one that housed Dany and her co-fighters.  She smiled.  Being the three headed dragon had its advantages, even thousands of years later it seemed. The two men riding in the front of the Surburban joined them as the others formed up into their groups. Chen Shih-Chieh himself came up to them. 

“Arya,” he said, “I expect you to protect them.  You will be marrying them soon enough.”

Arya blushed hotly and ducked her head. 

Dany knew she liked the man for a reason.

“Truly, though.” He turned to the other two heads of the dragon. “Dany, Andi, we have a good battle plan, but no battle survives first contact with the enemy.  You are about to see firsthand just how crazy a gunfight can be.  Keep your heads down and on a swivel.  I would tell you all to work as a team and listen to each other, but you already do that instinctually.”

He looked at each of them in turn.  “You are the three-headed dragon reborn.”

With that he walked off.  Dany saw Zhao come up to the Ghostmaker after he’d left them.  The woman had a AR-15 over her back and a Glock on each hip like Andi did.  She also had a katana on her back, the hilt jutting over the opposite shoulder of her rifle.  She had learned that the woman was the Ghostmaker’s eldest daughter.  She was heir to his empire.  That did not change Dany’s feelings toward the hussy at all! 

She was still perving on Andi. And damn Andi’s eyes for lapping up the woman’s attentions!  The slut was pressing into her sweet innocent Andi every chance she got.  She was cooing to her sweet Lil Einstein!  Only she had the right to do that!  Well, Arya would too, if she would take the stick out of her ass and stop worshipping a dead woman!  Nyomi was a beautiful person she was sure, but she would have wanted Arya to live!

Thank the gods Andi did not take Zhao up on any of her salacious offers.  The slut!  To make matters even worse, Zhao had started to flirt with Arya hardcore when she saw that while Andi was lapping up the attention she was getting, she was not going to go out with her.  She had started to press into Arya when taking her orders, with her open blouse and her tits spilling out right in front of Arya’s face. 

At least Arya had the decency to get flustered and tongue-tied! It was Daenerys who should have been doing that!  Every night!  She felt her Dragon roaring within. Hell, she had had three dragons - and they were all roaring!

Dany took a slow, calming breath.  Her future wives were not giving the slut the time of day.  She just needed to stake her claim.  She would be the one to take Andi’s virginity.  Then she and Andi would together raise Arya’s soul from the dead and have her once more live again.  Arya would remember passion and lust and it would be with her and Andi!

The Ghostmaker and his daughter moved off.  They would be leading the ground assault on the invading drug cartel.  Their numbers were vast.  The men originated from the tribes of Hellholt, Vaith, Jordan and Royalblood of Southern Dorne.  They were vicious and very aggressive, reflecting the hot, arid lands of their birth.  Informants had said they had also recently formed an alliance with the Golden Dragons of Tyrosh.

Their combined strength would make them bold and aggressive.

A picket screen of Shih-Chieh’s operatives had been on watch for the last thirty-six hours, ensuring that the approaching forces of the Ghostmaker were not ambushed. 

Dany and her two future wives reached the abandoned office tower.  The looked up the fire escape ladder that led up to the top of the ten story building.  Dany cracked her knuckles.  She was ready for the challenge.  She adjusted the sixty pound rucksack on her back, Andi and Arya doing the same with their burdens.  She started the climb up the fire escape ladder.

Dany put one hand in front of the other, steadily pulling herself up.  She looked back behind her.  Andi was right below her with Arya at the rear.  By the seventh story Andi was gritting her teeth, but she gamely kept climbing.  By the ninth floor she was grimacing.

“Keep going Andi! We are almost there.  I know you can do it, honey!” she called out softly.  They were in a combat zone now, and kept her voices pitched low.  Arya had moved up close to Andi from underneath. 

“Come on Caracal!  Show us that fire, Brainiac!  I know you can do it.  Show me those guns!” Arya quietly encouraged Andi.  She reached up with her left hand and gripped Andi’s left calf, then pushed upward.

With renewed strength, Andi surged up behind Dany and they were soon all on top of the building. The location had had been selected for two reasons:  One was the height, and the other was the three foot tall wall that surrounded the perimeter of the rooftop. 

The Boomerrang III had been brought in early by the support team.  It was still in unassembled pieces. With the night now falling, they could erect the fifteen foot telescopic pole.  The three women pulled opened their packs pulling out ammo, tools and equipment.  They put on their headlamps with low watt green lights and assembled the mast with screws and wingnuts.  They grunted lifting the pole, and attacked the end mast that had the eight acoustic eighteen-inch long microphones, strategically placed to give 360 degrees of coverage.

The three women grunted as they lifted the mast and set it in its base of pentagon feet, splayed out to support the weight of it all. Andi pulled out her computer and opened it up, the RAM-based memory and hard drive booting up quickly.  She attached the battery pack already left on the building roof into the Boomerang.  Then she hooked up a USB cable.

She stared at the screen of her laptop, and then plugged in the Situation Awareness System module.  Andi glanced back and forth between the two screens.  She pulled out the Motorola RMU2080d 2-Way 8CH Display UHF Business Radio.  She would use it to communicate with Shih-Chieh and his three lieutenants.  She would attempt to locate concentrations of gunfire to let them know where to attack or move for cover.

Twenty sandbags had been loaded on the roof.  Dany and Arya lined them up on the wall that faced the direction of the meet.  They built up the wall further, leaving cutouts in sandbag wall to fire out of while kneeling. 

The two women pulled their sniper rifles out of the cross straps that had held them to their rucksacks.  Then they pulled out the bipods and set them up on the sandbags.  They held the rifles to their shoulders and sighted down the scopes.  They adjusted the sights for the distance.

They pulled out their laser rangefinders and measured the distances to the most likely target areas.  Arya had them measure to other rooftops as well, just in case.  Dany liked her caution.  The enemy should be totally surprised and, thus, no worry of being shot at from on high - but Arya kept telling them to stay low no matter what.

Andi was sitting down behind a small vent tower that protected her.  She scooted to the far wall her back to the access ladder.  The vent tower covering her from the vectors of most likely attack.  She was busy reading her screens.