The warrior watched as the two humans mated with reckless abandon, and it marveled at its own reaction to the carnal display. As it had approached the pair the warrior had every intention of an immediate ambush, confident in its ability to use stealth and combat prowess to disable both of the humans. The warrior did not concern itself with rumination on the rules of engagement, or much in the way of independent thought, as its function in the hive was to execute protocols without hesitation. And yet, here it stood, seemingly frozen in a moment of contemplation as it observed the mating humans. The warrior, like all the rest of its caste, was a male of the species, and though sex was a critical act for reproduction, sex for pleasure was not the Izrid way. The warrior had forty seven offspring, all of them fellow warriors, all of them from the same female brood bearer, a semi-sentient being who’s sole purpose was to reproduce with males in its caste. The builders, pilots, and magisters all had their own collective brood bearers, each caste in the hive breeding with a single female. For the warrior sex was nothing more than an insertion of its penis into an available orifice, of which the brood bearer had many, pumping for a few seconds until ejaculation, then the act was complete.
The warrior had fastened its projectile caster to the bone peg that grew from its back, freeing its hands to wield the twin axes it intended to use against the humans, and then it witnessed a sight unfamiliar to it. The warrior watched as the human female sank to her knees and took the sizeable penis of the human male in her mouth, moving her head back and forth as if they were having sex. This confused the warrior, as it did not fully understand what it was seeing, and suddenly the warrior’s own penis began to fill with blood and swell beneath the creature’s body armor. Such was the warrior’s desire that it found itself setting down its axes and removing its armored groin plate. One of the warrior’s hands took hold of its own cock as it watched the human female engage in a sexual act that seemed to hold only a pleasurable function, as the warrior knew from the intelligence capsules that only vaginal intercourse would yield reproductive results in humans, just like the Izrid. The warrior’s excitement grew as it watched the human female begin suckling the male’s testicles as she pumped the male’s penis with her hand. The warrior could not help but to move its own hand back and forth on its own shaft, mimicking the human female’s movements and marveling at the pleasurable sensation it was feeling. Then the human male pulled the female up by the hair and then forcefully inserted his girthy penis into the female. Instead of simply ejaculating into her orifice within a few strokes the male thrust in and out of the female many times without ejaculating, as if prolonging the act was the human’s intention. The warrior watched with excitement as the human male began sucking his thumb and then pushed it into the female’s waste orifice. The warrior looked on as the human female made mewling sounds as if she enjoyed the double penetration, before her sounds were muffled by the male as he let go of her harness and began forcing two of his fingers in and out of the female’s mouth.
The warrior’s multi-chambered heart was thundering in its chest as it watched the humans coupling, and the bio-tracker system began sending trauma signals to the nearest warhive. A pilot aboard Warhive Gyrax was monitoring the elevated biometrics of the warrior, and dutifully pushed the datastream to the magister’s feed. The magister sifted through the feed and got a fix on the warrior, then focused in on the warrior’s visual cortex, the hivemind link allowing the magister to observe the warrior’s experiences as if the magister was the warrior. Cava Rek was the magister’s name, belonging to the only caste in the hive that had a personal identity and thus both the desire and necessity for an individual name. The magisters were the ruling caste within the hive, bearing higher intelligence, self-determination, and a broader range of sensory capabilities. Cava Rek had been directing troops involved in counter-attack engagements with the resistance after the sudden and unexpected destruction of Warhive Sagmir. Magister Honsa Lek had died in the attack, as had all of the pilots and builders, though there were scattered Sagmir warriors in the area. Without direction from a magister the Sagmir warriors had been skirmishing with the resistance fighters absent of any central strategy, and were being overwhelmed by the relentless ambushes and sniper fire from resistance. Magister Cava Rek had only in the last few time units been able to re-establish hive control over the Sagmir warriors, folding their primitive consciousness into the overmind of his own forces by magnifying the projection of his will through the warhive’s amplifiers that signaled the control nodules embedded in each of the warrior’s necks, transmitting his influence across the entire brood, effectively turning all of the Sagmir warriors into Gyrax warriors.
As Cava Rek dove into the mind of the warrior he was shocked by the physical sensations present in the warrior’s body. The magister had never experienced the breeding of warrior broods, nor had any other magister, or such a thing served no purpose. While perfectly experienced and capable of depositing his seed in the magister brood bearer Cava Rek was unprepared for what the warrior was seeing and feeling. The two humans were engaging in sexual contact, though as Cava Rek watched the human male penetrate the female from multiple orifices, the magister was at once confused and aroused. As the magister watched through the eyes of the warrior the human male continued to thrust himself into the female, his tempo increasing to a frightful pace as the female cried out in pleasure. Cava Rek could smell the pheromones with the warrior’s heightened senses, and could tell that the human female had achieved orgasm. Though the brood bearers sometimes shuddered with unconscious orgasm as a result of unintentionally long coupling, this female was aware of her own experience. The warrior’s hand worked its own shaft with determined strokes, and Cava Rek’s mind swam with the dual sensation of the warrior’s bizarre self-pleasuring and the swell of his own sex organ. The magister looked on in fascination as the human male thrust once more and then pulled out while the female turned and sank to her knees. Cava Rek did not understand their actions until the human male’s penis began fountaining seminal fluid into the female’s open mouth and onto her extended tongue. These creatures were engaging in sexual activity purely for pleasure, even to the point of the male spilling his seed in a non-reproductive orifice, some of it even dripping from the female’s tongue and chin to fall inert upon the ground. The magister’s mind was awash in more explosive sensation as the warrior’s penis shook with orgasm and spilled its seed upon the rubble-strewn ground. Cava Rek severed the connected with a shout and held the rails of his command pulpit to steady his feet, breathing deeply as he noticed a warm wetness in his own clothing. He sent a mental command through the data feed to all Gyrax warriors in the area, including the recently converted Sagmir warrior who witnessed the humans, to converge on the human’s location. The magister issued a capture order for the female and a kill order for the male, smiling to himself as a plan formed in his mind, devious and lustful.
Cole panted heavily as he leaned back against the wall, slowly working his still throbbing member back into his combat fatigues and fastening his belt. Tara smiled at him as she straightened her top and pulled her fatigues back to her waist. Cole reached into one of the many pockets of his duty vest and fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He put two in his mouth and flicked a disposable lighter to life, sucking in his breath as he held the flame to the ends of the cigarettes and soon both were crackling with red embers and the sweet aroma of tobacco swirled about the two resistance fighters. Tara slung her M4 over her shoulder and happily accepted one of the cigarettes.
“You know, three years ago if someone had told me I’d be a smoker I would have laughed in their face,” exhaled Tara as the smoke poured from her mouth and nose, “Alien invasions, no problem.”
“I am going to miss these when they’re gone,” Cole chuckled as he took a deep drag from his own, “Even after we kick those slimy bastards off this planet, the factories are thrashed. Maybe we can find some tobacco growing wild, you and I could start a new life as farmers.”
> “That’ll be the day,” Tara said as she picked up her motion tracker, noticing that the machine had been switched off, “Ah dammit, the tracker shorted out.”
“I have a charge pack in the side pouch of my kit,” said Cole as he gestured to the small backpack he had set on the ground before they were overcome by their desires, then he flicked his finished cigarette away and picked up his own carbine, “The Izrid should still be running around clueless, MacArthur has ambush teams everywhere, and she’s probably pissed we haven’t reported back yet.”
“Yeah or she thinks we’re dead,” mumbled Tara as she ejected the spent charge pack and slapped the fresh one home, pausing as the machine spun up.
Cole looked out over a low wall, scanning the landscape through the scope on his rifle. At first he saw nothing of interest, then suddenly a flicker of movement caught his eye. He focused his scope on the area he’d seen movement, and then sucked in his breath as he saw what was coming. At the same instant Tara’s motion tracker came to life and immediately began chiming warning signals, the dial on the tracker moving in a full three hundred and sixty degree pattern.
“Oh god Cole, they’re everywhere,” Tara whispered as the sheer number of movement signatures began to close in on their position.
“I see them,” Cole muttered as he clicked off the safety of his rifle and prepared to fire on the dozen or so Izrid warriors that had begun to emerge from the ruins across the street.
Tara hefted her own rifle to her shoulder and moved to the opposite side of the bombed out building they had taken shelter within. Three walls were intact, with a portion of the roof and the fourth wall shattered in prior conflicts. Tara had no idea what the building might have been in the past, though it seemed to have been something more old fashioned, as it was a building of concrete, metal, and brick, as opposed to the glass and plaster that had become typical of offices and retail space. The resistance fighter looked out of a ragged hole in the wall and could see five Izrid warriors closing in on them, and as she looked to the side of the building without a wall she could see several more coming at them through the rubble.
“Cole! We have to move!” Tara shouted, struggling to keep her voice down despite the growing terror.
“There’s nowhere to run baby, we make our stand here,” spoke Cole in a low tone as he continued to look down his rifle scope, “Tara, I’m glad we…”
Cole’s sentence was interrupted as several rounds impacted against the wall near where Cole stood. The resistance fighter sighted in on the shooter through his scope and returned fire, squeezing the trigger five times as he punched holes into the chest and throat of an Izrid warrior who had come into range. The warrior dropped to the ground as blue blood fountained into the air, its body still twitching with nerve spasms. More shots chewed up the concrete near Cole and he was forced to move, ducking low to avoid exposing himself and moving to another vantage point. Tara saw that she had a clean field of view on two warriors as they attempted to flank the building, and so she toggled her weapon to fully automatic and leaned out of a hole in the wall. The resistance fighter was small enough she was able to fit through the hole, rifle and all, but strong enough to engage her core and hold herself steady while bracing her legs against a metal support beam. Tara’s carbine bucked as it spit round after round at the two warriors, and though some rounds missed entirely most of her thirty shots found their mark and the warriors crumpled in a heap. Tara heaved herself back into cover just before return fire from other warriors ripped into where she had just been. She crab-crawled backwards, using her legs to push her as she used both hands to swap out her empty magazine for a fresh one and chamber the first round. She had raised the rifle to her should just as a warrior burst through the hold swinging the twin axes that Izrid were fond of using in close quarters. Tara fired three controlled bursts at the warrior, punching it backwards with the fatal impact, then she fired another burst at the hole to discourage whomever might be next to leap through.
Cole was burning through his ammunition at an alarming rate, doing his best to keep a high rate of suppressing fire, pushing the seemingly countless number of warriors into cover and killing the few he could get a clean shot at. There had to be at least two or three dozen of them out there, he thought to himself as he put in his last full magazine. The ground around his feet was littered in spent brass, and to show for it Cole had left five warriors dead outside. In the back of his mind he thought grimly to himself that even five dead was a poor trade for his life or Tara’s, as the Izrid seemed able to replace lost soldiers easily, as if they were simply hatching fully grown warriors, whereas human beings took upwards of ten to twelve years before they could be hurled into battle. In years past the idea of child soldiers would have repulsed Cole, though in these hard dark times the resistance needed every fighter who could wield a weapon and have the brains not to get killed right away. He had seen children perform feats of heroism on the battlefield that made them equals in his mind to any adult fighter, horrific though the circumstances might be. Cole lurched into cover once more as return fire tore through his prior position, the shattered fourth wall exposing he and Tara to several angles of fire. Cole looked up at Tara, who had pushed herself onto the top of a pile of rubble and was laying down a withering hail of fire into the target rich environment. She is so beautiful, Cole thought to himself as he looked up at her, like some action hero from the movies who looked good even covered in dirt and blood. He found his manhood swelling, and he had to laugh at himself for the absurd timing of his desire. Not a bad day to die I suppose, he thought to himself as he raised his rifle and re-joined the battle, have some great sex, a last cigarette, then go out with a bang.
Tara’s rifle ran dry and she discarded it, drawing her pistol as fast as she could and taking aim at two warriors who had vaulted the low wall where Cole had first stood when the battle began. Tara wasn’t the best shot with a pistol, though steady nerves and a willingness to expend ammunition allowed her to bring down one of the warriors, though she spent her entire magazine doing so. Cole’s attention was drawn by the fire, and he turned his rifle towards the warrior, only to have it ripped from his grasp by shots from a third warrior who had entered the building through the gap in the fourth wall. Cole screamed as one of the rounds took him in the left shoulder, though he was a hardy resistance fighter, and managed to draw his pistol and empty the clip into the nearest warrior while lying prone. Tara fumbled with her pistol as she loaded her last magazine, screaming at Cole to get up as she watched the oncoming warrior discard its firearm and draw forth the twin axes. Cole struggled to his feet while swiftly reloaded and brought his pistol up to aim, only to have his arm sheared from his body at the elbow by the first swing of the warrior’s axe. In the blink of an eye the second axe swept his head from his shoulders, and Cole’s body fell to the ground in a spray of blood.
Tara fought through her tears and aimed her pistol at the warrior, though before she could squeeze the trigger an axe flew threw the air and struck it from her hand. Tara crouched low and drew her combat knife, knowing that this was her last moment, though keenly determined to make it count. The warrior who had thrown his axe walked towards her, the one that had killed Cole slowly flanking her from the other side.
Magister Cava Rek guided the two warriors towards the female fighter, his mind melded with their flesh. He commanded the warriors to disarm and subdue her, which they did with little difficulty. Cava Rek found it amusing that each of the warriors to take her down were different broods, the warrior who had slain the human male and the initial observer of the human coupling was of Warhive Sagmir, and the other was his own Gyrax brood. This was going to be an interesting evening, thought the magister as he commanded the warriors to bring her to the hive.
ACT III
Tara awoke to find herself on a smooth table, lit from an unknown source and illuminating the room around her. The space was domed, with ceramic tiles running in jagged patterns across what looked to be plastic-lik
e walls. The tiles reflected the dull glow of the table to create a luminescent soft light that came from everywhere and nowhere at once. The room had no furnishings beyond the table, and as she looked about herself she became aware of her body. Gone were the multitude of cuts and bruises from the day’s fighting, as was the pleasant ache in her womanhood Cole had left behind, even the toothache she’d been struggling with had been silenced. She had been bathed, her skin glowing with the vibrancy only achieved with hot water, high-end soaps, and vigorous scrubbing. The tattoos on her legs were dark and striking, and she realized that her legs had been freshly shaved, a luxury she’d gone without for a long time. To her surprise she realized that her fatigues were gone, as was her tactical harness and combat boots, all replaced by a sleek black dress and impressively tall high heels. Tara took notice of her hair, washed and teased into fashion, completing her ensemble and making her look like a cross between an elegant socialite and a sultry stripper.
Alien Resistance: Omnibus Edition Page 2