The Prime Princess

Blaise Zabini was standing in the corner of the gym, where Cith and Draco were sparring. To him it looked strange. The blond always got beaten up and still he charged on. That was just amazing how many hits and blows he could take before he was carried to Infirmary and patched up again. It seemed to have gone on like forever. When their replicas from another reality had sent back to their right time few weeks ago, he and Draco had stayed on Galantea with Professor Snape who still wanted to Obliviate the young Malfoy. For his own protection, of course.

Draco fell down onto the mat and didn’t move a muscle. Cith smirked triumphantly and looked around to challenge another man. Blaise shook his head and stepped out of the gym and walked to Mess Hall for late supper. By chance he spotted Major Draconis eating alone in one table far away from others. Blaise gathered plates with food on his tray and went straight to him.

“Is this seat taken?” asked Blaise. Major lifted his head, long platinum blond locks fell back from his face and exposed a tense look on his elfin features.

“Not that I know of,” Major responded gruffly and continued with his meal. Blaise stared a second at him and then took a seat opposite from him over the table.

“My name is Blaise Zabini,” he started but Major looked up again and his death-cold stare shut Blaise up.

“You are the one with the new Rage Walker,” he stated and took a mouthful from his glass.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” said Blaise thinking hard.

“Well then, good luck with her,” told Major Draconis, stood up and left from the table. Blaise watched him leave and bitted his lip. He had wanted to ask so many things but obviously Major Draconis was not a very talkative type.

“Nah, don’t bother with him,” said a silky voice behind Blaise, who twisted his neck to stare at Major Paris, his own Goth doppelganger getting high from nicotine.

“Er, what?” was everything Blaise could say because his replica sat to the seat where Major Draconis had just been. He looked nothing like healthy bronze Greek God. Pale skin, hollow cheeks and dark eyes behind the veil of black hair made him more like a creature of the night. A cigarette was still burning between his fingers as he motioned with it to exiting Major Draconis.

“Cith destroyed Morgan for good. He has never gotten over it,” explained Paris and a puff of smoke filled Blaise’s vision. “He tried to love her, tried to hate her but Cith never let her go.”

“So this would happen to Mione too?”

“I’d hate to see it happen but there’s nothing you can do. Your Hermione has to be pretty strong to overcome Cith,” told Paris and put out his cig when fire alarms had gone off and a voice in speakers told people to evacuate immediately from Mess Hall. Paris smirked, took off his headset and leaned back.

“You did that on purpose!”
***
Cith came out the shower and walked stark naked into the locker room. The Head of Slytherin House coughed and turned his gaze away. He held up a towel.

“Aw, don’t be so modest,” purred Cith in Hermione’s body and circled Snape, tracing her fingers over his shoulders. “You and Lucius always shared everything.”

“Miss Ariston,” scolded Professor and gritted his teeth as he pushed her hands off of him. Cith giggled naughtily and took the towel only to throw it as far as possible.

“So why not me too?” asked Cith and pushed him against one of the lockers, trapping Snape between her and cold metal. “Don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about this? I can see her memories and I can sense your… urges.”

Snape was caught off guard when Cith pushed her thigh between his legs and moved it upwards. Looking down, he saw Hermione but the look in those dark eyes was not hers. It was a hunter’s stare. But hell, it got him hard!

Her hands had gotten somehow inside his robes and under his shirt. Sharp nails dug into his flesh as they scraped down his sides and seized his belt. Snape inhaled sharply as Cith undid the buckle. He moved away from her touch because it was against regulations but even more desperately he wanted to get away from his traitorous body reacting to her. She was naked, all bits to see for his eyes but still he fought against himself and her manipulations. Shutting his eyes, Snape finally put his hands on her shoulders to push her away but he hadn’t the strength to do it.

Cith smirked, shuddered herself and got his loose hands drop a little. Snape opened his eyes and stared at what he felt under his hands. Soft and firm breasts hovered just under his gaze, his hands over them, feeling hard nipples scraping his palms. It was too much for him to bear.

Just when Snape was about to really push her off of him, her hand slithered into his pants and grasped around his aching cock. Snape hissed in sensation and stared at the witch in front of him, smiling seductively. Her hand started to move over his member in tormenting slowness but with a firm grip.

“Keep that up and I wont be responsible for my actions,” growled Snape.
***
Draco walked into the locker room and froze. He heard grunts and moans coming from the other end of the room near shower stalls. Somebody had a good night, mused Draco and walked towards the sounds. The constant banging against the locker gave him some ideas. He never was into peeking but after getting released from the Infirmary, he needed something to get his blood going again.

Stalking behind corners, he finally got close enough to take a glance at the couple. What he saw made his heart stop beating. Professor Snape was fucking Hermione against the locker with all his might. It was shocking but bloody arousing sight, making Draco’s blood boil.

“Cith Bane, the Rage Walker? More like a Slut Walker!” barked Draco in furious anger. Cith looked over the shoulder of grumbling Snape. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper.

“I’m gonna get you, and when I do, you’re dead,” hissed Cith and cried out in combination of rage and orgasm.

Everything went black in front of Draco’s eyes as he staggered out of there. Their moans echoed inside his head as he ran far away from there, hot tears running down his face. Finally collapsing down to his knees, Draco screamed until he had no more air and passed out.

When Draco woke up five minutes later and rolled onto his back, he realized he was in a hangar. His head was pounding but never the less a plan was forming.

“Galantea, DM-404 asks an upgrade in piloting an Arya class Glider,” he said, clicking in his headset.

“Granted. Upgrade in process,” came a voice from Galantea’s mainframe. Draco felt prickles in the back of his head to where a receiver biochip had been installed with a small plug socket for direct feed. With an instant he felt like he had piloted Gliders his whole life.

Getting up to his feet, Draco felt nausea for a second as everything flooded to his head and occupied a lot of space there. Looking around, he selected out one A-07-R series Glider and climbed up into the cockpit and stared at the dashboard. All the switches, levers and the joystick looked oddly familiar and before Draco even touched anything, he was able remember the feel of them under his hands. Smirking, he strapped himself into the pilot seat and flipped some switches to get the bird ready.

“You can run but you can’t hide, Malfoy!” sounded an angry voice in his earpiece. Draco imagined how a frustrated Cith was storming through the Galantea and getting closer to the hangar. Galantea must have informed her where he was. After pushing the Start button, the Glider fired up and the primary check-control data was projected to the front windshield. All systems were ‘go’ but there was one problem – he had no knowledge about piloting in the Void. And as it happened, Galantea was traveling in the Void at that point.

“Crap,” cursed Draco and banged his fists to the dashboard. The result of this was that a map appeared on the projected screen. It displayed a structure of Galantea in one mile radius with all marked people on it wearing a tracking chip and others appeared as simple life signs. To Draco it looked like a high-tech Marauders Map. The dot labeled Hera closed on him and Draco clicked his headset to ask Galantea download everything there was to know about navigating in the Void.

“Drakie!” hollered Cith in his earphone, “I know where you are and I’m gonna get you!”

“Not if I can help it,” came another voice and while Draco dealt with the downloading process, he guessed the other one on the line must have been Branwen.
***
Cith marched through the long corridors and headed for a Translocation booth to get as fast as possible to the Glider hangar. She knew the route from showers to the first Translocator but somehow after every turn to the left she ended up in the same corridor. It was impossible that she went around and around but that’s exactly what she did in her mind.

“Bran! Take your skinny ass and get the hell out of my head!” roared Cith as she realized that it was just an illusion created by the Wraith Walker. She stood still for a second and stared into the distance. The fake corridor dissolved from around her and the Translocator appeared in the end. Cith hurried to it and opened the door by placing her hand on the scanner that identified her by her handprint. Getting in, she stared at the map on the touch-screen and selected the Glider hangar. For a second she felt the same odd feeling like when she was beamed.

The door of another Translocator hissed open and Cith peered out. She was no near to the hangar.

“What the…” started Cith and turned around to look more closely at the map on the back wall of the booth. The destination dot was mark with red and it surely was a hangars area but several levels upwards but in the other side of Galantea. Somehow she had selected the Translocator in the Stealth Fighter hangar bay.

Cursing out loud, she clicked in her headset.

“Galantea, give DM-404 location!” demanded Cith and rushed out of the booth, taking her course to Fighter bay.

“DM-404 is taking off from the lane 1.3,” came the answer. Cith growled and broke off into running. She dashed into the hangar and took the first Fighter that came into sight. It belonged to Major Draconis but she really didn’t care whose she highjacked as long as it had enough fuel and ammo to catch that damn brat.
***
“You’re on your own now. She’s coming from East Bay,” reported Branwen to Draco as he got out into the Void. It was endless, empty and totally black. Draco had no visual orientation until he pulled the projected chart over the windshield. Almost immediately an alert came, warning him that a Stealth Fighter has got him locked on.

“Fuck!”

Missiles were launched and Draco dodged from them by exiting from the Void. A desert rushed at him with high velocity. Draco pulled the nose up and dived into the sky. Split second later two rockets sent the dunes exploding. Dark Fighter emerged from the Void and spiraled upwards. Above the coming Fighter, Draco pushed the accelerator to the max and bolted over the red sky.

Another alert went off, signaling Draco that his Glider was again locked on. Gritting his teeth, Draco hoped to out-maneuver the Fighter. Racing over the desert, sandstone rocks and into the narrow canyon. Blasts sounded all around him, blowing up everything on the way. Out-run a Fighter? Now that was a proved impossibility. These bastards were the fastest things in the small vessel class.

Draco gripped tightly the joystick and looking ahead through the projected screen, he zigzagged above the landscape and towed the rockets to hit cliffs while escaping from ion cannon blasts. Glider’s energy shield was almost drained as he suddenly pulled up and hoped to enter the Void but was shot down.
***
Army boots hit the sand on landing with a thump. Cith looked up and surveyed another Glider exiting the Void near the crash site. She shook her head and inhaled the bitter smell of burning wreckage. Smirking, she poised a huge rifle over her shoulder and started walking towards the wreck to finish it off.

“Never leave without 120 hours in the flight simulation,” purred Cith. She watched as Major Paris and Blaise jumped out of the arrived Glider and ran to the remains of the shot down craft. She gave them the head start to dig out Draco. Major Paris helped Blaise to drag him away from very explosive derbies and then came to meet Cith in the mid way.

“Cith, don’t…” warned Paris and pointed his gun at her, the green dot drilling her heart.

“Don’t play a hero, Paris. It doesn’t suit you,” said Cith and with one swift movement she hauled her rifle from her shoulder, aimed and pulled the trigger.

“One down,” smirked Cith and stepped over bleeding Paris, “Two to go,” and reloaded.