Satan_Klaus
01-17-2008, 01:47 PM
A story poppep up in my head and stayed there for a while so I had to put it to (electronic) paper before it vanished.
This is a rough draft of the first chapter. Not everthing is defined yet and there is sure a lot of editing(or maybe full rewriting) to be done. I just wanted to post it here first, see what people think. Don't expect a literary firework just yet but I think I have a few good ideas in there.
Space Opera (working title)
The scout ship’s landing craft sets down on an outlying planet. There are small settlements carved into a dense and impenetrable jungle.
The scouting parties’ leader, Fleet Consular Madison makes contact with the natives while her crewmembers stay in the craft and conduct analysis of the planets ecosphere.
The natives are all towering giants, 6’6” inches tall and very muscular. There are no women in sight. To Madison’s delight, communication is no problem—they all speak English.
She is invited to the ‘unit leader’s’ home. In glowing words, she tells him of the Democratic Union of Stars, the new order that has formed after the collapse of the United Earth Federation at the time of the galaxy flare. The DUS has written peace and unity on their banner, trying to reestablish the lost glory of the UEF. They are a harmonic whole that celebrates diversity. Every planet is allowed to keep his own culture intact. The leader would be a fool not to want to join into the DUS.
He tells her that now that she has told him about her society, it is time she learned about his. He goes way back to the days of the galaxy flare, when ripples in subspace had caused fluctuations in the burning cycle of all stars. To a time when the mighty UEF was reaching out into deep space, only to collapse to isolism as space traffic became impossible and many hospitable worlds turned to ashes or frozen wastelands over night.
Xereus secundus, the only colonizable planet in the Xereus system was at the inner rim of the green belt and barely terraformable. The UEF had dropped atmosphere renewers and genetically volatile seed pods that would undergo adaptive evolution in a matter of decades from space. They succeeded, for a scant two hundred years later, Xereus secundus had a breathable atmosphere and an abundance of life. But they had created a death world. In the dense Stranglewine jungles with its poisonous barbs and an undergrowth of crawling leper weed only the hardiest and vilest predators lurked.
The situation could have been rectified by invoking ‘option zero’. Obliterating the ecosphere and reseeding the planet from space but the UEF chose a different option. Automated logging units carved habitable patches of land out of the jungle and set up perimeters and kill zones that kept Xereus secundus aggressive flora and fauna at a distance. Here, on a planet marked as uninhabitable in the central archives, they set up a research lab for genetic manipulation. In space, they constructed a massive shipyard to profit from Xereus tertius’ mineral riches. Xereus was to become a military fortress system. A secret failsafe in case democracy and diplomacy failed to keep the UEF together.
Under the auspice of Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher they created genetically modified super soldiers for orbital landings. Trained in the deadly jungles of Xereus secundus and enhanced with inhuman reflexes and resilience, they would overcome the defenses of any rebelling planet without having to resort to fusion weaponry.
So the Legionaries were born. Created to fight but conditioned to protect they were the perfect weapon.
Then the galaxy flare struck. Xereus erupted with a massive outburst of hard radiation, instantly killing everyone manning the orbital installations. On Xereus secundus, all electronic systems failed as the sky turned into a livid spectacle of colors. Protected by the planets magnetic field, the ecosphere survived.
As the backup generators slowly came to live, the scientists and engineers on secundus’ surface realized that their position was grim. Unaware of the ongoing subspace ripples that would prevent FTL travel for more than a century they prepared to hold out long enough until a ship could reach them.
Three years later, the first light of the next neighboring star reached Xereus secundus, lighting up the night sky for a brief moment before falling dark again. One by one, the stars lit up in the sky over the curse of the next months and years. Only then did the people realize that they were not the victims of a stellar abnormality but that this was an event on a galactic scale.
Cut off and running out of supplies, they tried to reach the orbital factories with small shuttlecraft but Xereus was still spewing out deadly gamma ray bursts in random intervals, scrambling electronics and killing all who tried to make the trip.
On the ground, the machines that had kept the jungle at bay so far were failing. One by one the great tracked logging machines fell out of service. In their desperation, the colonists turned to the only option they had left: The legionaries. A hundred thousand genetically enhanced warriors had reached maturity and were ready to drive back the jungle. Equipped with nothing but an improvised chainsaw they hacked their way trough, clearing roads and pipelines of the kudzu grow. But the people of Xereus secundus were afraid of the giants who served them. Their training had been interrupted and their conditioning was incomplete. Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher assured his leaders that the Legionaries, his children, were born to protect. A special sequence he had spliced into their superior genetic makeup would compel them to protect the helpless settlers of secundus.
But people were wary, and afraid of what they did not understand. They implemented a plan that had been decades in the making. In case the military training and conditioning was not enough to reign in the Legionaries, a neural control collar had been developed in secret. The leaders of Secundus colony ordered them to be used, and the Legionaries, used to drill and obeying orders complied. Proud warriors were turned into slaves overnight.
Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher was furious. His children were perfect and there was no need to domineer them like that. When he had volunteered his creations for the dangerous task of clearing the jungle, he had hoped that acceptance would follow. That one day they might become a part of society.
The lights went dark in secundus colony while the collaring was still in progress. The sirens wailed and shots were fired. Ernest Bodenbacher gathered his children and led them into the jungle.
The Legionaries were quick to adapt. They carved clearances into the jungle and built new homes. The colonists were not so lucky but in time, they learned how to operate simple machinery and poisons to keep back the vine.
An uneasy peace reigned between the colonies and the jungle settlements of the Legionaries. At some points there was a little trade, foodstuffs from the jungle for machines from the cities. At others, there was conflict. The Legionaries lived a comparatively good life. Their bodies were immune to most of the poisons of the native wild life and they were fit enough to survive out there on their own.
Eventually some colonists, women especially because the Legionaries had none, chose the comfort of the Jungle homes to the hardships of the besieged colonies. Slowly, they built a new society. Against all expectations, the Legionaries proved fertile and had children with the women from the colonies. They were only girls; though. The manipulated genetic code of a legionary soldier was unsuitable for normal childbirth. So Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher bestowed his last gift on his children. He developed a process, drawing on the genetic pool he had used to create the Legionaries, which allowed them to reproduce. Now, a hopeful couple could go to the unit’s genetic bank and conceive artificially. It would not truly be their son but a true blooded Legionary.
It dawned on the leaders of the colonies that their time was running out. Eventually, the Legionaries, better suited to the death world of secundus would outnumber them. There was no more hope to reign them in.
So they sent an assassin, a woman pretending to woo one of Dr. Bodenbacher’s closest friends, to track him down and murder him. The ploy succeeded and the Legionaries’ father succumbed to her blade. Simultaneously, all major Legionary settlements were wiped off the map with fusion tipped missiles. Those left alive after the cataclysm scattered into the jungle.
But the Legionaries are a hardy people. They regrouped and swore revenge. All moderate voices had been silenced by the violent first strike of the UEF colonies. Dr. Bodenbacher, who had opposed conflict but only wanted to ‘negotiate from a position of strength’ was dead. Men who were as xenophobic as the colonist leaders were elected to lead the Legionary units.
Within a decade of Guerilla warfare and jungle fighting, the colonies fell, one by one.
“But what about the genetic conditioning your ‘father’ gave you?”
“It was there. But we are warriors first, protectors second. And we had been wronged, attacked and almost annihilated. There are limits to our tolerance. Those who resisted were put to death. Those who surrendered got to wear the neurocollar they had intended for their vanquishers. The Legionaries kept the preciously few women who had survived the conflict as slaves, fathering daughters and creating sons with the Bodenbacher process. Within two generations, there were no baseline human males left on secundus.
“You wanted to learn about our culture. This is our legacy. This is our culture. We have brought forth a strong people, destined to survive all hardships.”
The leader rings a bell and shortly a slave girl enters from a side door. She wears a close fitting dress that covers not much of her shapely body. She kneels and awaits her master’s command.
“History is dead and dull. Here let me demonstrate.” He beckons the slave to come closer and she approaches on her knees. Gently taking hold of her collar, she turns her around and pulls back her head by her hair. “That’s a neurocollar. A brutal tool that your ‘glorious’ UEF invented to keep us in check.”
“Inai, I want to show our visitor how this thing works.” The slave is paralyzed, limb by limb. “It’s not very pleasant for the girl. She tells me it feels as if her limbs are freezing off. Most slaves consider paralysis a punishment on its own. So Inai usually gets to wear shackles when I need to restrain her. But there is more.” He turns the girl around again to face him. “I’m going to give you pain.” The girl winces. “I…I’m sorry master.” She whimpers, apologizing for a crime she has not committed. He takes hold of her head. “Inai, I want you to know that you are not getting punished. You have been a good girl. But I want to show Madison here what being a slave on secundus really means. You don’t have to do this but it will please me greatly if you do.”
“I…I will do it, Master.” She says, her voice shaky.
“Are you sure? How long has it been that you have been punished? Two years? Maybe you don’t remember what it’s like.”
“I’ll do it.” She says. Firmer this time. “For you.”
“Plucky girl.” He says petting her head. “Two minutes”. He turns the girl around again and reaches for his wrist. One by one her limbs fail her and she slumps against her master. Only her face retains its expression of fear and determination. “The usual setting will completely paralyze her first, so that she doesn’t flail her limbs or bite her tongue. But I want you to see this. See the dark soul of our society.” He takes a piece of wood and puts it between Inai’s teeth. “Bite this!” he commands and she clamps down on it.
With the push of a button, Inai’s features twist. Her body lies limp between his knees but her face betrays her true agony. Tears streak from her bloodshot eyes and she is gnawing on the wood as if she was intent on biting it through. She throws her head about in her master’s lap but it is to no avail.
“Stop it! I have seen enough!”
The leader holds his girl steady between his thighs, gently caressing her distorted face, brushing the tears away.
“I said stop it, you barbarian!”
“So the consular shows her true face.” He observes unmoved. A touch to his wrist intensifies Imai’s agony. “No one gives orders in a Legionary’s home except the host. You are a guest in my house. You are a guest on my planet. You would do well to remember that.”
“You may think me a barbarian. But every culture has a dark spot full of shadows and yours is no exception. What about your glorious UEF that tried to enslave my people. And WHY do you think we were created in the first place? To keep the people discontent with the UEF’s rule under control. Your predecessors maintained a list of targets for the Legionaries. Everything was planned out. Orbital insertion, landing sites, supplies and weapons everything. 94 planets! Do you really believe that everything was well with the way you managed your empire?”
“No! The DUS is different. We want to help you!”
The girl kneeling between the leader’s thighs is staring to move again. Her two minutes of pain are obviously over. She buries her face in his lap, hugging his legs and he pats her gently.
“You are a good girl Inai. Such a good girl. Come here!”
He turns to the consular again gently rocking the crying girl in his arms.
“There IS something you could help us with. Our genetic diversity is failing.”
“But you said there were a hundred thousand of you to begin with. That should be enough to support a population.”
“It should be, yes. But it isn’t. The problem isn’t with us, it is with our daughters. New Legionaries are conceived by the Bodenbacher process. We are not clones -- there is some randomness invoked -- but still we are all very similar. So a Legionary’s daughter conceives a child from a Legionary. And her daughter in turn conceives a child from another legionary. We don’t change, but they do. And therein lays the problem. Down the generations, our girls have become genetically as similar as their fathers. Hereditary diseases have become a problem. We have developed a system to detect, and abort, any abnormalities but our stock is dwindling. The number of successful natural pregnancies is very low but the number of boys we create is unchanged. There are far too many warriors for too few girls. In ten or maybe twenty generations, there won’t be any girls left on secundus. And without them, there won’t be any Legionaries, either.”
“So you want us to send you girls? Are you crazy?”
“No, no. From your perspective we might be barbarians but we can tolerate your culture of universal freedom the same as you tolerate ours. We want egg cells. A billion cells from a million different women. It’s not much. I’m sure you already have amassed a genetic database to that amount somewhere in your empire. I understand that you are a fleet consular – that you can enter a binding contract on behalf of the UEF. So here is my offer: If you help my people, we will grant you access to the standard construction archives the UEF left here on secundus.”
“And let our daughters grow up to be your slaves? Never! If you want our help, you first have to free every single woman on this planet.”
”So this is how you ‘let us keep our culture intact’. So be it. We can affect change, some change, but not as much as you demand. Not everyone on this planet is as open minded as me. Look at our history. Most Legionaries still course your name. They will need a gesture of friendship before they will even consider speaking to you. I lead a large technical unit here but I am just one man. In the jungle there are a billion legionaries scattered about in small bases and settlements and they will all want a gesture of goodwill. They want daughters. Give us what we demand and I will do everything in my power to bring the Legionaries of Xereus Secundus into your empire. We are a potent fighting force. Surely, the UEF would want us leading their planetary assaults, falling down on your enemies like locusts from space. We are warriors, Madison, we will do as you desire. But give us what we need to survive.”
The Consular ponders the leader’s words and he turns to his slave girl. The pain is gone and her eyes have cleared up again. She looks up to her master with a tired smile, letting his praise and affection shower down on her. He whispers into her ear and reaches for his wrist controller again. Her lithe form is writhing between his thighs, slowly rocking from left to right. Her moans raise the consular from her pondering.
“Listen! If you want anything from me, you have to stop doing that! Can’t you see that she is in pain?”
“Pain? Hardly. Look up here Imai! Show our guest your face! See those fluttering eyelids, those trembling lips? It’s not pain, Madison, its pleasure. Pure, raw pleasure from her neuro collar. Every nerve ending is singing out with it. It’s her reward for taking the pain earlier.”
Involuntarily, Imai opens and clenches her thighs, showing her obvious arousal.
“Is it…is it sexual?” The consular asks, shaken by the sight.
“Sexual and more. Imagine everything that feels nice, all packed together.” He gently fondles Imai’s breasts and nipples through her thin slave’s dress, eliciting a drawn out moan. “For her, it’s sexual for sure. But I don’t let her come like this often. Makes her less responsive to her master.”
“So this is all she is to you? A Fucktoy?”
“You know Madison, you are not very diplomatic for a diplomat.” He pets his girl, now spasming in the throes of pleasure. “She is my fucktoy, true. But she is also so much more. She is my housekeeper and my assistant. She is a trained nurse if I should ever need one. She is my confidante and one day, if we are lucky, she will be the mother of my children. In short: she is my slave.”
Imai looks up to her master, rapt by his loving description, grinding her body against his. Consular Madison is sickened by his diatribe of sweet condescendingness and the girl’s reaction to it. It was certainly for the best that this culture had no future.
The leader reaches for his wrist, ending Imai’s ecstasy. He kisses her at length then sets her down again with a playful swat. “You reek, girl! Go get a bath, masturbate if you need, then serve supper for two!” He turns to Madison. “You ARE staying for supper, consular?”
Madison grits her teeth.
“Yes.”
Satan_Klaus
PS: If you took your time to read so far, please, pretty please, take a little more and tell me what you think!
This is a rough draft of the first chapter. Not everthing is defined yet and there is sure a lot of editing(or maybe full rewriting) to be done. I just wanted to post it here first, see what people think. Don't expect a literary firework just yet but I think I have a few good ideas in there.
Space Opera (working title)
The scout ship’s landing craft sets down on an outlying planet. There are small settlements carved into a dense and impenetrable jungle.
The scouting parties’ leader, Fleet Consular Madison makes contact with the natives while her crewmembers stay in the craft and conduct analysis of the planets ecosphere.
The natives are all towering giants, 6’6” inches tall and very muscular. There are no women in sight. To Madison’s delight, communication is no problem—they all speak English.
She is invited to the ‘unit leader’s’ home. In glowing words, she tells him of the Democratic Union of Stars, the new order that has formed after the collapse of the United Earth Federation at the time of the galaxy flare. The DUS has written peace and unity on their banner, trying to reestablish the lost glory of the UEF. They are a harmonic whole that celebrates diversity. Every planet is allowed to keep his own culture intact. The leader would be a fool not to want to join into the DUS.
He tells her that now that she has told him about her society, it is time she learned about his. He goes way back to the days of the galaxy flare, when ripples in subspace had caused fluctuations in the burning cycle of all stars. To a time when the mighty UEF was reaching out into deep space, only to collapse to isolism as space traffic became impossible and many hospitable worlds turned to ashes or frozen wastelands over night.
Xereus secundus, the only colonizable planet in the Xereus system was at the inner rim of the green belt and barely terraformable. The UEF had dropped atmosphere renewers and genetically volatile seed pods that would undergo adaptive evolution in a matter of decades from space. They succeeded, for a scant two hundred years later, Xereus secundus had a breathable atmosphere and an abundance of life. But they had created a death world. In the dense Stranglewine jungles with its poisonous barbs and an undergrowth of crawling leper weed only the hardiest and vilest predators lurked.
The situation could have been rectified by invoking ‘option zero’. Obliterating the ecosphere and reseeding the planet from space but the UEF chose a different option. Automated logging units carved habitable patches of land out of the jungle and set up perimeters and kill zones that kept Xereus secundus aggressive flora and fauna at a distance. Here, on a planet marked as uninhabitable in the central archives, they set up a research lab for genetic manipulation. In space, they constructed a massive shipyard to profit from Xereus tertius’ mineral riches. Xereus was to become a military fortress system. A secret failsafe in case democracy and diplomacy failed to keep the UEF together.
Under the auspice of Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher they created genetically modified super soldiers for orbital landings. Trained in the deadly jungles of Xereus secundus and enhanced with inhuman reflexes and resilience, they would overcome the defenses of any rebelling planet without having to resort to fusion weaponry.
So the Legionaries were born. Created to fight but conditioned to protect they were the perfect weapon.
Then the galaxy flare struck. Xereus erupted with a massive outburst of hard radiation, instantly killing everyone manning the orbital installations. On Xereus secundus, all electronic systems failed as the sky turned into a livid spectacle of colors. Protected by the planets magnetic field, the ecosphere survived.
As the backup generators slowly came to live, the scientists and engineers on secundus’ surface realized that their position was grim. Unaware of the ongoing subspace ripples that would prevent FTL travel for more than a century they prepared to hold out long enough until a ship could reach them.
Three years later, the first light of the next neighboring star reached Xereus secundus, lighting up the night sky for a brief moment before falling dark again. One by one, the stars lit up in the sky over the curse of the next months and years. Only then did the people realize that they were not the victims of a stellar abnormality but that this was an event on a galactic scale.
Cut off and running out of supplies, they tried to reach the orbital factories with small shuttlecraft but Xereus was still spewing out deadly gamma ray bursts in random intervals, scrambling electronics and killing all who tried to make the trip.
On the ground, the machines that had kept the jungle at bay so far were failing. One by one the great tracked logging machines fell out of service. In their desperation, the colonists turned to the only option they had left: The legionaries. A hundred thousand genetically enhanced warriors had reached maturity and were ready to drive back the jungle. Equipped with nothing but an improvised chainsaw they hacked their way trough, clearing roads and pipelines of the kudzu grow. But the people of Xereus secundus were afraid of the giants who served them. Their training had been interrupted and their conditioning was incomplete. Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher assured his leaders that the Legionaries, his children, were born to protect. A special sequence he had spliced into their superior genetic makeup would compel them to protect the helpless settlers of secundus.
But people were wary, and afraid of what they did not understand. They implemented a plan that had been decades in the making. In case the military training and conditioning was not enough to reign in the Legionaries, a neural control collar had been developed in secret. The leaders of Secundus colony ordered them to be used, and the Legionaries, used to drill and obeying orders complied. Proud warriors were turned into slaves overnight.
Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher was furious. His children were perfect and there was no need to domineer them like that. When he had volunteered his creations for the dangerous task of clearing the jungle, he had hoped that acceptance would follow. That one day they might become a part of society.
The lights went dark in secundus colony while the collaring was still in progress. The sirens wailed and shots were fired. Ernest Bodenbacher gathered his children and led them into the jungle.
The Legionaries were quick to adapt. They carved clearances into the jungle and built new homes. The colonists were not so lucky but in time, they learned how to operate simple machinery and poisons to keep back the vine.
An uneasy peace reigned between the colonies and the jungle settlements of the Legionaries. At some points there was a little trade, foodstuffs from the jungle for machines from the cities. At others, there was conflict. The Legionaries lived a comparatively good life. Their bodies were immune to most of the poisons of the native wild life and they were fit enough to survive out there on their own.
Eventually some colonists, women especially because the Legionaries had none, chose the comfort of the Jungle homes to the hardships of the besieged colonies. Slowly, they built a new society. Against all expectations, the Legionaries proved fertile and had children with the women from the colonies. They were only girls; though. The manipulated genetic code of a legionary soldier was unsuitable for normal childbirth. So Dr. Ernest Bodenbacher bestowed his last gift on his children. He developed a process, drawing on the genetic pool he had used to create the Legionaries, which allowed them to reproduce. Now, a hopeful couple could go to the unit’s genetic bank and conceive artificially. It would not truly be their son but a true blooded Legionary.
It dawned on the leaders of the colonies that their time was running out. Eventually, the Legionaries, better suited to the death world of secundus would outnumber them. There was no more hope to reign them in.
So they sent an assassin, a woman pretending to woo one of Dr. Bodenbacher’s closest friends, to track him down and murder him. The ploy succeeded and the Legionaries’ father succumbed to her blade. Simultaneously, all major Legionary settlements were wiped off the map with fusion tipped missiles. Those left alive after the cataclysm scattered into the jungle.
But the Legionaries are a hardy people. They regrouped and swore revenge. All moderate voices had been silenced by the violent first strike of the UEF colonies. Dr. Bodenbacher, who had opposed conflict but only wanted to ‘negotiate from a position of strength’ was dead. Men who were as xenophobic as the colonist leaders were elected to lead the Legionary units.
Within a decade of Guerilla warfare and jungle fighting, the colonies fell, one by one.
“But what about the genetic conditioning your ‘father’ gave you?”
“It was there. But we are warriors first, protectors second. And we had been wronged, attacked and almost annihilated. There are limits to our tolerance. Those who resisted were put to death. Those who surrendered got to wear the neurocollar they had intended for their vanquishers. The Legionaries kept the preciously few women who had survived the conflict as slaves, fathering daughters and creating sons with the Bodenbacher process. Within two generations, there were no baseline human males left on secundus.
“You wanted to learn about our culture. This is our legacy. This is our culture. We have brought forth a strong people, destined to survive all hardships.”
The leader rings a bell and shortly a slave girl enters from a side door. She wears a close fitting dress that covers not much of her shapely body. She kneels and awaits her master’s command.
“History is dead and dull. Here let me demonstrate.” He beckons the slave to come closer and she approaches on her knees. Gently taking hold of her collar, she turns her around and pulls back her head by her hair. “That’s a neurocollar. A brutal tool that your ‘glorious’ UEF invented to keep us in check.”
“Inai, I want to show our visitor how this thing works.” The slave is paralyzed, limb by limb. “It’s not very pleasant for the girl. She tells me it feels as if her limbs are freezing off. Most slaves consider paralysis a punishment on its own. So Inai usually gets to wear shackles when I need to restrain her. But there is more.” He turns the girl around again to face him. “I’m going to give you pain.” The girl winces. “I…I’m sorry master.” She whimpers, apologizing for a crime she has not committed. He takes hold of her head. “Inai, I want you to know that you are not getting punished. You have been a good girl. But I want to show Madison here what being a slave on secundus really means. You don’t have to do this but it will please me greatly if you do.”
“I…I will do it, Master.” She says, her voice shaky.
“Are you sure? How long has it been that you have been punished? Two years? Maybe you don’t remember what it’s like.”
“I’ll do it.” She says. Firmer this time. “For you.”
“Plucky girl.” He says petting her head. “Two minutes”. He turns the girl around again and reaches for his wrist. One by one her limbs fail her and she slumps against her master. Only her face retains its expression of fear and determination. “The usual setting will completely paralyze her first, so that she doesn’t flail her limbs or bite her tongue. But I want you to see this. See the dark soul of our society.” He takes a piece of wood and puts it between Inai’s teeth. “Bite this!” he commands and she clamps down on it.
With the push of a button, Inai’s features twist. Her body lies limp between his knees but her face betrays her true agony. Tears streak from her bloodshot eyes and she is gnawing on the wood as if she was intent on biting it through. She throws her head about in her master’s lap but it is to no avail.
“Stop it! I have seen enough!”
The leader holds his girl steady between his thighs, gently caressing her distorted face, brushing the tears away.
“I said stop it, you barbarian!”
“So the consular shows her true face.” He observes unmoved. A touch to his wrist intensifies Imai’s agony. “No one gives orders in a Legionary’s home except the host. You are a guest in my house. You are a guest on my planet. You would do well to remember that.”
“You may think me a barbarian. But every culture has a dark spot full of shadows and yours is no exception. What about your glorious UEF that tried to enslave my people. And WHY do you think we were created in the first place? To keep the people discontent with the UEF’s rule under control. Your predecessors maintained a list of targets for the Legionaries. Everything was planned out. Orbital insertion, landing sites, supplies and weapons everything. 94 planets! Do you really believe that everything was well with the way you managed your empire?”
“No! The DUS is different. We want to help you!”
The girl kneeling between the leader’s thighs is staring to move again. Her two minutes of pain are obviously over. She buries her face in his lap, hugging his legs and he pats her gently.
“You are a good girl Inai. Such a good girl. Come here!”
He turns to the consular again gently rocking the crying girl in his arms.
“There IS something you could help us with. Our genetic diversity is failing.”
“But you said there were a hundred thousand of you to begin with. That should be enough to support a population.”
“It should be, yes. But it isn’t. The problem isn’t with us, it is with our daughters. New Legionaries are conceived by the Bodenbacher process. We are not clones -- there is some randomness invoked -- but still we are all very similar. So a Legionary’s daughter conceives a child from a Legionary. And her daughter in turn conceives a child from another legionary. We don’t change, but they do. And therein lays the problem. Down the generations, our girls have become genetically as similar as their fathers. Hereditary diseases have become a problem. We have developed a system to detect, and abort, any abnormalities but our stock is dwindling. The number of successful natural pregnancies is very low but the number of boys we create is unchanged. There are far too many warriors for too few girls. In ten or maybe twenty generations, there won’t be any girls left on secundus. And without them, there won’t be any Legionaries, either.”
“So you want us to send you girls? Are you crazy?”
“No, no. From your perspective we might be barbarians but we can tolerate your culture of universal freedom the same as you tolerate ours. We want egg cells. A billion cells from a million different women. It’s not much. I’m sure you already have amassed a genetic database to that amount somewhere in your empire. I understand that you are a fleet consular – that you can enter a binding contract on behalf of the UEF. So here is my offer: If you help my people, we will grant you access to the standard construction archives the UEF left here on secundus.”
“And let our daughters grow up to be your slaves? Never! If you want our help, you first have to free every single woman on this planet.”
”So this is how you ‘let us keep our culture intact’. So be it. We can affect change, some change, but not as much as you demand. Not everyone on this planet is as open minded as me. Look at our history. Most Legionaries still course your name. They will need a gesture of friendship before they will even consider speaking to you. I lead a large technical unit here but I am just one man. In the jungle there are a billion legionaries scattered about in small bases and settlements and they will all want a gesture of goodwill. They want daughters. Give us what we demand and I will do everything in my power to bring the Legionaries of Xereus Secundus into your empire. We are a potent fighting force. Surely, the UEF would want us leading their planetary assaults, falling down on your enemies like locusts from space. We are warriors, Madison, we will do as you desire. But give us what we need to survive.”
The Consular ponders the leader’s words and he turns to his slave girl. The pain is gone and her eyes have cleared up again. She looks up to her master with a tired smile, letting his praise and affection shower down on her. He whispers into her ear and reaches for his wrist controller again. Her lithe form is writhing between his thighs, slowly rocking from left to right. Her moans raise the consular from her pondering.
“Listen! If you want anything from me, you have to stop doing that! Can’t you see that she is in pain?”
“Pain? Hardly. Look up here Imai! Show our guest your face! See those fluttering eyelids, those trembling lips? It’s not pain, Madison, its pleasure. Pure, raw pleasure from her neuro collar. Every nerve ending is singing out with it. It’s her reward for taking the pain earlier.”
Involuntarily, Imai opens and clenches her thighs, showing her obvious arousal.
“Is it…is it sexual?” The consular asks, shaken by the sight.
“Sexual and more. Imagine everything that feels nice, all packed together.” He gently fondles Imai’s breasts and nipples through her thin slave’s dress, eliciting a drawn out moan. “For her, it’s sexual for sure. But I don’t let her come like this often. Makes her less responsive to her master.”
“So this is all she is to you? A Fucktoy?”
“You know Madison, you are not very diplomatic for a diplomat.” He pets his girl, now spasming in the throes of pleasure. “She is my fucktoy, true. But she is also so much more. She is my housekeeper and my assistant. She is a trained nurse if I should ever need one. She is my confidante and one day, if we are lucky, she will be the mother of my children. In short: she is my slave.”
Imai looks up to her master, rapt by his loving description, grinding her body against his. Consular Madison is sickened by his diatribe of sweet condescendingness and the girl’s reaction to it. It was certainly for the best that this culture had no future.
The leader reaches for his wrist, ending Imai’s ecstasy. He kisses her at length then sets her down again with a playful swat. “You reek, girl! Go get a bath, masturbate if you need, then serve supper for two!” He turns to Madison. “You ARE staying for supper, consular?”
Madison grits her teeth.
“Yes.”
Satan_Klaus
PS: If you took your time to read so far, please, pretty please, take a little more and tell me what you think!