Chapter Eighty-Three A Dragon’s Test (Patreon)

She watched from the observation window as the last of the shuttles was landing in her bay. They were about done, and getting ready to leave. Her salvage teams had brought back quite the haul, enough to fill up her cargo bay with valuable Neku technology. Once the cargo from these last shuttles was secure in the bay, they would be ready to finally get out of here.

As she was watching, a younger girl came up to her. One of the officers assigned to the salvage crew. The little pip on her breast indicated she was an ensign. It was the lowest officer rank, but not the lowest rank on a ship. The girl seemed a little excited.

She pulled out a padd, and opened a gallery. “We found some interesting artwork over there. One of my team members took these lovely photos of it. I’d have liked to bring it over, but it was painted directly onto the wall.”

The commander took the padd, and looked through the images. It was an exquisite piece of art. The attention to detail alone was astounding. It was so beautiful that no words could adequately describe the work. Every girl was different, and rendered with an exacting eye to detail. All of them were pretty, and it was hard to imagine these girls differently. Or even wearing clothes for that matter. The dragon however was the real gem of the art work, and the way her scales shimmered in the unseen light gave her life. It was easy to imagine that dragon could simply spring to life like nothing else. Art like that deserved a place of great honor where it could be appreciated. Even these photos were of great value, but if she could bring the original back to the capital? That would raise the standing of her entire family. No, not just her family, but those of everyone on her ship. Idly, it occurred to her that they had looted trinkets and left treasure behind.

She blinked. The mark in the photos suddenly leapt out at her, and she found herself saying, “Have this analyzed.”

The Ensign nodded, “of course, ma’am.”

As the ensign ran off to do that, she was left wondering why she had such a sudden urge to give that order. At least for a moment. Before she could really think about that, the question no longer seemed important. Rather, instead the answer to the other question seemed more important. She needed to know who made that art. Her gaze returned to the photos. It was such an otherworldly piece of art. The artist was a true visionary, and she had a burning need to know who drew such lovely art. For some reason she felt they could not leave before they knew who made the art. The feeling was so strong that a part of her wanted to question it, but she could not bring herself to do that. The why just didn’t seem important enough to be questioned.

She was in her office when the Ensign came in with the results of her analysis. Her lip was quivering a bit, and her whole demeanor had changed. “Um,... captain. We um, uh...”

“What? Speak clearly.”

“Uh, well. We have a... problem?”

“Why do you sound so uncertain of that?”

The ensign sighed, and handed over the padd she was holding. The captain took it, and glanced at the page. She raised an eyebrow, “So what am I looking at?”

“Our problem?”

Sighing, she started to read. As she did so a dark hole formed in her belly, and the more she read the bigger it was. A chill rippled up her spine, and she suddenly wished she was anywhere but here. They were in trouble, she knew it. This was bad, no, terrible.

“Gather the crew, we have something... terrible to discuss.”

Nervously the ensign nodded, “Um, where?”

“The war room, where else?”

It was the only space big enough for the entire crew to gather, well aside from the hangar. It had a few functions aside from those implied by the name. At the moment, it seemed to be the best place for a meeting of the crew. As the ensign left to gather the crew, her mind drifted to what she had just read.

It had been an article, several articles actually, all of them, on dragons. One of them was dragon art, and how despite every failure to communicate that their ability to express art was a sign that they were more than the ship eating monsters they were known to be. Another article went on about how dragons would display art to mark their territory, and all dragons would sign their work. While the marks would vary from dragon to dragon, certain commonalities could be used to identify a dragon’s mark over something else. As interesting as all of that was, it unfortunately meant that they were trespassing in a dragon’s territory. Worse, they had actually stolen from that dragon. Her cargo bay was filled with salvage taken most likely from a dragon’s kill. That wasn’t good, not good at all.

Thankfully, the dragon that lived here apparently hasn’t noticed them yet, but she now felt deeply uncomfortable. Perhaps they could just put the stuff back? No, their scent was all over the stuff. The dragon might notice. They were going to have to appease the beast somehow. Fighting it was out of the question. Her ship was no match for that battleship, and the dragon had bested it, and an entire fleet along with it. To presume she could fight that thing off would be utter folly. Deep down she had a strong feeling that even if she did get away unscated the beast would somehow be able to track her down, and things would be worse. It was never wise to steal from a dragon.

Luckily the articles held a few solutions. None of them were all that great. She had a choice to make, but it was one she wished she didn’t have to make. If only she had followed her gut, and left earlier. She would have never known about that dragon, and never had to make this terrible choice. She would much rather be facing down a Neku cruiser at this moment, but alas that was not that case.

With a sigh, she glanced at the last article. It contained an analysis of folklore from several cultures, along with reports from people who had survived an encounter with a dragon. With it came a theory on how to appease, even gain favor with a dragon. There was just one problem, the best way to do that was to practically offer up poor young women on a silver platter to the dragon. Worse, it had to be a young woman, nothing else was acceptable. Why she didn’t know. A part of her didn’t want to know what a dragon would do with those poor girls, especially since they would be alive when the dragon got them. It was hard to imagine it was anything good.

Clutching the pad to her chest, she slowly made her way out of the room. Her mind still churning over what to do. How best was she to get her crew home, safely? Was she perhaps a suitable sacrifice? If so she would do that for her crew in a heartbeat, but she didn’t know. There was no real way to know. In any case it was a decision she didn’t feel comfortable making on her own. This wasn’t what they signed up for. A part of her wondered if she had any right to order her crew to be sacrificed to a dragon? Something she tried not to think about.

Instead, she tried to consider what they must offer to balance the scales. They had taken from the dragon, and now they must pay tribute. Again she considered putting the stuff back. Would that even work? Perhaps, but she had a strange feeling that she would have to leave an offering. What if she kept the stuff? What would she need to do to appease the dragon? Could she offer anything else other than people. The article suggested no, but seemed to imply that an offering of treasure would help balance the scales. She glanced to the artwork, and had a strange feeling that art would be appreciated, especially tastefully nude art. If they were offering people how many would that mean? She wasn’t sure, the article wasn’t much help as it implied the number would depend on the dragon. Something told her that her crew could afford this dragon’s price. How she didn’t know, nor did she care to. A number flashed into her mind, if they kept the treasure, and offered suitable art? They would need at least 20 people. Offering more would help curry favor. Another feeling told her this dragon would only accept willing sacrifices. Again she didn’t know how she knew, nor did she really want to know.

It wasn’t long before she reached the war room. Most of the crew was already waiting for her. With a heavy heart she informed them of what had happened, and what their options were. Almost instantly the room had descended into heavy silence. A silence that seemed to drag on forever, not a murmur or peep sounded from anyone as they digested what she had told them.

Her heart sank into her stomach. A part of her waiting for the shouting, the anger. The blame and misplaced hurt. Yet none of that came. Rather suddenly a female voice loudly shattered the silence with two words, “SEND ME!”

That triggered a wave of voices, “I’ll go!”

“I’ll do it!”

“If it will help, I’ll do it”

She blinked, they were willing? She was utterly shocked, but it quickly became apparent that she had too many people willing to go. A solution came to her, a drawing was the only fair way to decide who would go.

As things calmed, she had the willing write down their names, and toss it into a crate that someone thoughtfully provided. She left it to her first officer to take care of that. In the meantime, she quickly selected a few crewmen and pulled the girls aside. She knew they had creative minds, and had made art before. It was time they made their own gift to appease this dragon with. It didn’t sit right with her to just send sacrifices. Not to mention she was feeling strangely inspired at the moment. Why, she didn’t know, nor did she care. As long as they got out of this intact, she would be happy.

She and the girls she selected locked themselves in an adjacent cabin with some supplies, and got to work. Inspired they painted a work that didn’t quite measure up with the dragon’s but they gave their best. They rendered every detail as best they could. A beautiful landscape at sunset soon took shape. In the background the majestic spires of the capital could be seen, and a few farm girls could be seen working. All of them were nude naturally, and nothing was censored or missing from the picture.

By the time they were finished with their work, the other item had been decided. Somehow it had been agreed that thirty girls would be going. That was more than was required, but she didn’t feel like fighting her crew on that choice. She just hoped they didn’t decide to increase it. So instead, as the girls chosen to go boarded a few shuttles, she took their wrapped artwork, and placed it on a shuttle.

Once she was certain the shuttles had landed, she gave the order to depart. Idly she looked back, hoping those left behind would be alright. It was as she was looking back that she saw it. The great dragon was right there watching her leave. It didn’t pursue, but she felt a shiver down her spine for a moment before a feeling came over her. Her offering had been accepted. She knew it, and then suddenly she gasped. Her chest suddenly burned.

The pain rippled through her as intense heat centered itself between her breasts. It lasted but a moment however before transforming into a pleasant tingling. With that change came relief, and thankfully the tingle passed a moment after it began. A clattering sound drew her attention to the ground, where a strange object had crashed into the ground. Already it was disintegrating.

She ripped her top off right there, revealing her bare breasts to the air of the bridge. Yet she didn’t care. Instead her gaze focused upon a spot on her chest. There centered between her breasts was a mark. A familiar mark that she had seen before. A glowing red jewel clasped in a dragon’s claw, and wreathed in a ribbon emblazoned with draconic characters. Characters she could now suddenly read, even upside down. The phrase was draconic, but roughly translated it meant something along the lines of  ‘Freedom must be earned, but the right to choose must be given, and respected for all’

What that meant, she wasn’t sure. The presence of the mark on her bare flesh however had a meaning that did not escape her. The dragon had marked her. Why she didn’t know, but she had a feeling that she would learn soon enough.