The Mission

"This is your target." Sansa said, pressing a button on the desk. "We recieved a burst transmission from Black Widow a week ago. She wasn't able to scare up any concrete details, but according to her, what the Carduelians are working on here is an existential threat to our Kingdom."

A holographic display of an industrial building, lone and remote in the northern wilds, came up in blue wirepoint form. It rotated, displaying various points of preliminary information.

Commander Shepard cleared her throat. These briefings, one-on-ones in Queen Sansa's quarters in the palace, had been the way of things since her founding of the Spectresses. Queen Sansa. God, that still sounded weird. Not a year ago, she had been the commander of a ship, had been engaged in an interstellar war against the invading, merciless Reapers. Now she was pledged to a Queen. The new status quo was taking some getting used to.

"That's a lot of building for four operatives to move through." Shepard said, rubbing her chin. She'd worn her dress blues, one of the handful of outfits that had been stored on the shuttle when they'd been pulled into this world. She felt she had to make an effort for these meetings. Sansa still wore the dark and elegant gowns she had in her own world, Westeros, mostly out of habit and custom. She was far from the only woman in Friedan to cling to the familiar, even when better options presented. Personally, Shepard thought if she'd come from some patriarchal, medieval society, she might've been interested in giving sweatpants a try.

"I trust your team, Commander." the young queen said, her tone measured. "You four are some of our best."

Shepard wasn't so sure. She couldn't shoot heat beams from her eyes, and she couldn't shrug off a bullet, not without her shields and barriers.

"I'll have Miranda and Liara look over the schematics." Shepard told Sansa. "They'll find a way."

They did have the Kodiak as an ace in the hole. The trusty little shuttle was one of the only vehicles anyone, be they Friedan or Carduelian, possessed that was capable of leaving Tierra's orbit. Various groups were lobbying Sansa to get them to hand it over, citing advantages beyond what the Spectresses could get out of it, but until Queen Stark caved, the Normandy's former shuttle was theirs. It gave them unparalleled mobility. They could deploy quicker, and more quietly than pretty much anyone. In a way, it reminded Shepard of the Normandy's stealth capability.

As Shepard made to leave, Sansa reached out, placing a hand over the Spectre's.

"You know Commander, I have some time before my next commitment. Half an hour." Shepard's pulse quickened. The last two times were a mistake. She and Liara weren't strictly exclusive, asari didn't work like that, but she had fucked Sansa without a word to Liara, before or after.

"It's important... to take time to yourself." Shepard mumbled, a little awkwardly. She willed herself to pull her hand away from Sansa's grip, but couldn't. She wanted this, she knew.

"Commander. No, Jane. I'd much rather spend it with you..." Sansa said, a note of need diffusing into her usually regal tone.

Shepard looked up. Locking eyes with Sansa, staring into those deep blue pools, clinched it. She was hooked.

"I'm yours, Queen Sansa." Shepard admitted.

And Shepard knew exactly how Sansa would want to spend that time...

-

"By the old gods and the new! This is perfect!" Sansa's voice rang out.

Shepard was on her knees at the side of the royal bed, her Alliance dress uniform scattered to the tiles by the door. She had her face between the queen's thighs, dutifully servicing her quivering pussy.

After so long with Liara, so much time getting acquainted up close with the archaeologist's azure, it was something of a novelty, to be with a woman who shared her, or any human's skin tone.

Though her view was obstructed, Shepard heard the clink of metal on porcelain from above. Sansa had treated herself to a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, brought into the room on a tray by a discrete servant.

Evidently, even though she had also been a queen back in her own world, a lot of the culinary innovations from the multiple cultures and time periods that Frieden was comprised of were news to Sansa. She had grown quite fond of ice cream in her time as queen.

"Shepard, you have to try this!" Sansa cooed, proffering her spoon to the other woman, about all that remained of her frozen treat. Never wanting to pass up her monarch's hospitality, Shepard came up, bringing herself away from Sansa's clitoris, and took the spoon into her mouth.

She made a show of sucking it clean, while maintaining eye contact with Sansa. Something one was menat to do whilst giving a blowjob, not that Shepard had any first hand experience with that.

"Did you like that?" Sansa asks, a giggle adding some vibration to her tone.

"So good." the marine intoned. "Of course..."

She brought her lips to Sansa's breast kissing at an errant drip of ice cream that had made it's way from the spoon to the queen's nipple.

The one-time Queen in the North shuddered with delight at Shepard's touch as she set her bowl aside.

"Make sure you... get it all." Sansa gasped. Shepard was only too happy to oblige. She devoted herself more fully to Sansa's tits, feasting on the younger woman's chest with the same zeal, same relish that she had her crotch.

"Come back safe, Shepard." Sansa pleaded, stroking the Commander's shorter red hair. "This can't be the last time we-"

"It won't." Shepard's response was curt, followed up with a dutiful sequence of kisses, tracing her queen's areola.

"Promise me." Sansa asked, biting her lip.

To come back safe, or that this wouldn't be their last time, Shepard pondered. But... she knew it was irrelevant. There was no world in which the former promise kept, the latter would go unfulfilled. The two women had tasted too deeply of each other for that.

Shepard brought herself yet further up Sansa, until their eyes were level. Shepard's lithe, trained body was up against Sansa's regal form now. Their pussies almost touching, they could each feel the heat of the other in a tangible way.

"Promise." Sansa urged Shepard. The queen enclosed her thighs around Shepard, her lower extremities holding the Spectre tight in a loving, Sapphic embrace.

Shepard had served many masters in her time. The Alliance brass. The Citadel Council. Even Cerberus, begrudgingly. None of them had been able to compel her quite like this.

"I promise." Shepard said, staring intently into Queen Sansa's blue eyes as she did.

They kissed, both knowing with every frantic, panted breath, every transit of a hand across their lover's body, that this was becoming more than a fling.

"You know," the Stark girl began "that half hour isn't over just yet..."

And Jane was thanking God it wasn't.

Shepard shrugged off her underwear, then brought her pussy to Sansa's, overcome by a feeling of rightness that she had never had with any human woman, only Liara. They were close now, closer than Shepard had been to anyone without melding.

Shepard cupped the side's of Sansa's face softly, and kissed her once again as they began to trib. Even now, undressed, in the throes of passion, Sansa had a dignified and queenly edge to her.

There had been older leaders, more experienced ones, brought to Tierra, but just to look at Sansa was to know why she had come to command the thousands of displaced and confused women that had become her kingdom.

Something about Sansa's bearing reminded Shepard of how she always pictured her own mother, making officer, and XO of her spaceship, at an age when Shepard was barely in the N7 program.

And she was a lover too. If Sansa's spirit was ideally suited to lead women to survival and victory, her body was just as talented as pleasing them. Shepard knew from conversations they had had that she had a good decade and a half more sexual experience than Sansa, at least when to came to women, but the way she moved her hips had Shepard doubting...

Just like now, everything the queen did drove Shepard further and further into frenzy. Her deftness, her sensuality, the way she kissed. It was all... beginning to overwhelm her.

"Jesus, I'm cumming!" Shepard squealed, her body betraying her.

"Do it." Sansa said, following up with a kiss, short of breath herself. And Shepard did, her body rocking with the gift of orgasm. Sansa held her in place as she did, Shepard's own enjoyment driving the queen over the brink.

Liara was forgotten in the moment. Hell, ask Shepard her own name, she might have struggled. But Sansa was there, foremost in her heart and eye. For fleeting blissful moments they were one body, joined at lips and tits and cunt. But not even the asari meld could last forever, and it was just as quickly that they came apart, still in each other's arms, but suddenly so much further away.

"That was..." Shepard groaned inarticulately. She kissed Sansa's shoulder, savouring the taste of her, just the slightest hint of passionate sweat to her skin. One day she would really build up a sheen on the queen, Shepard smiled.

"I know." Sansa said, with a low laugh.

Much as it pained her, Shepard broke from Sansa, and recovered her panties. She sat on the edge of the bed, rolling them up her legs. She knew she had to get away. Put a little distance between herself and Queen Sansa. Otherwise she would fuck her until Sansa's advisors had her dragged away.

"You said Jesus again." Sansa said, moving over the bed on her knees and embracing Shepard. "You and Miss Lawson evoke him nearly as much as Maester... Doctor T'soni invokes her Goddess. Are they counterparts, rivals, lover gods?"

"Not quite," Shepard said, a little tersely, scouting the floor for her bra, even as she became unwilling to pull away. "Why so curious?"

"I want to know more about where you came from." Sansa said plainly. "Travelling between the stars, so many other races, it sounds so... unusual."

"Magically being transported to a different reality with thousands of other women not doin' it for you anymore?" Shepard asked sardonically.

"I'm still interested." Sansa told her. "I want to know more about you, your life before."

It was all Shepard could do not to let her heart melt as she stared into Sansa's eyes. She knew Sansa wasn't exclusive, there were other women, the beautiful blonde Kryptonian, the Ballerina, but she was beginning to feel something real between them now, a seed had taken shoot in her heart, next to and comparable to the one that had been planted in that Prothean mine on Therum.

"When I get back." Shepard promised. "When you have time, I'll tell you anything you wanna know. Childhood, first posting, Saren... Hell, I'll even tell you about Conrad Verner."

"Who?" Sansa asked, nonplussed.

"Don't get me started." as Shepard thought back on her "biggest fan", for the first time in months, a pang of loss and seperation lanced her very being. To Conrad, and the Milky Way at large, the shuttle she, Liara, Ashley and Miranda had been on had simply phased out of existence. There as it left the Normandy, never to arrive at it's intended destination. And life in that reality had simply... continued on. That was the consensus of pretty much every scientist in Frieden. Life had gone on, the war had gone on, without Shepard and the Prothean cipher in her head. Without Liara and her intelligence network. Without Liara's smarts, or Ashley's toughness...

Stop, just stop, Shepard willed herself. That door was closed now. There was no way back. She was still fighting to keep her people, her civilisation safe, now it was simply from a mighty nation of male supremacists. Honestly, on some level, the Reapers scared her less. At least what they wanted wasn't so... human.

And they couldn't impregnate.

Shepard remembered what had happened to Jade, a brunette reporter who had attempted to infiltrate Carduelis, to photograph their atrocities and broadcast them to the Carduelian populace. Instead, she'd been captured, and the only broadcast made had been squarely back at the women of Frieden. Once a month, Jade's own camera betrayed her, beaming images of her increasingly pregnant form being fucked in a cell, of her face being fucked, leaving streaks of green lipstick on the cocks of her aggressors. Shepard hadn't had the stomach to look at the broadcasts in a while, now...

"Jane?" Sansa jolted the Commander from her stewing in unpleasant thoughts.

"Right." Shepard rose from the bed, hitching up her panties and grabbing her bra. She could be into her blues in a matter of seconds. Military discipline.

"You should get another scoop." Shepard smiled, nodding to Sansa's bowl of ice cream, little more than a few melted green remnants now. "You deserve to treat yourself."

"I just did." Sansa smiled, stretching cutely. "Maybe I'll wait."

"Until?" Shepard smirked.

"Until you're around again, to keep me clean." Sansa said sultrily, brushing a finger against the still somewhat sticky spot on her tit.

With that, Shepard was on her way. She had formulated a route already, out of the palace, into the city. Find a spot to shower (it wouldn't do to go back to Liara reeking of mint and human pussy), once she was cleaned up, she'd make for the warehouse the Spectresses operated out of.