Fever: The Aftermath

"Admiral Gorp-5; Commander Kmar-2, I'm pleased you decided to meet with me. With your assistance, we can avoid, or at least decrease, the carnage tomorrow.

"I am here to offer you the opportunity to surrender and return to your families on the planet Gaoye, in what we call the Sirius system."

The officers were as stunned by Kirk's knowledge of their names and origins as they were by his proposal that they surrender.

He went on. "I'm pleased that you are almost weapon free. That knife in the back of your belt won't do you any good, Admiral, and normally would get you killed." He willed the knife and its sheath to his hand, to the wonder and fright of the Dhogs.

"How..."

"It's hard to explain. Just know I am not the only one of the Earthmen who can do it." He unsheathed the knife and drew it across the muscle of his forearm, drawing blood.

As the officers watched, the blood stopped and the cut could be seen knitting itself closed. They drew their breaths in with a hiss. "Admiral, there are five trees on the south side of the road. Choose one without naming it. Fix its image in your brain."

The Admiral did so, wondering to what purpose. Suddenly, the tree he had chosen cracked and broke about two feet above the ground. Instead of falling, it rose in the air and flew across the road, nearly brushing their heads.

They heard Kirk begin to speak again. "Here is my only proposition." With a start, they realized that, although they heard him, his lips weren't moving, and he was speaking in their language.

"If you surrender before the battle begins, all the officers and troopers remaining on Earth will be spared and returned to the surviving spaceship, with enough fuel to get you within hailing distance of your home planet. The drones, both your battle drones and the breeders, will be destroyed.

"Should you decide to fight, by the time the Sun reaches its zenith, there will not be a Dhog left in this solar system." He returned the knife to the Admiral. "We will begin our attack at first light."

"If we decide to accept your offer, how should we let you know?" inquired the Commander.

"Strip your uniforms of insignia, leave your weapons in the meadow and withdraw two miles, three and a quarter magetremes. There is another force approaching you from behind. They will meet you there and hold you until we have finished with the drones.

"I would warn you and your men to be cooperative with that force. It contains several survivors of your first six months of blood bath tactics."

"General Kirk, it may well be the case that the troops will be of differing opinions regarding surrender."

"That, Admiral, is your problem...I take that back. A man, especially a soldier, should be able to choose his manner of dying. If your troopers would rather die here than return to their families, so be it. We will be happy to oblige them."

"Brave talk, coming from a race still fairly technologically naive."

Kirk looked at the Admiral, his face blank. Suddenly, the Admiral felt himself being picked up and turned around, to face the tree which had been broken and removed. As he hovered there, in mid-air, he felt a warm gust of wind, then saw the tree flame and reduce to cinders in less than a second. He was then turned back to face Kirk. "Questions?"

"Our legends tell of a long, bitter, bloody war with a race which had no need of weapons. It is said they were destroyed only because they were scattered across the galaxies. Are we to believe you are their descendants?"

"Believe what you wish, Kmar-2. Until your attack five years ago, our offensive powers didn't exist, or were possessed by few, and in truncated forms. There are relatively few of us, still, but they have provided the bulk of those you refer to as guerillas."

"You would send us home, knowing we might return to seek vengeance for this defeat, and to finish what we started eons ago?"

"We will send you home with you knowing that if you decide to try and return to take vengeance, every Dhog in the known Universe will be eradicated when you cross the orbit of the mini-planet, Pluto. Whether or not you decide to return for that purpose is up you. If you return in peace, for our mutual non-military benefit, well, we'll have to see what happens."

The Admiral broke in. "Such speculation is useless. We are a warrior race. To be returned in a damaged vessel, obviously defeated, would destroy our honor and reduce us to objects of ridicule and scorn. We thank you for your offer, but we must reject it. We will meet you in battle at dawn."

Kirk looked to the Commander, who was nodding, with a sad face. "I agree, sadly. I wish...under other circumstances, General, I think we could have been friends. As we wish our comrades before battle, happy death."

The Admiral nodded. "Happy Death."

Kirk offered his hand to the alien officers. "I am truly sorry for you both. Happy Death."

As the Sun crested the eastern horizon the next morning, the resistance began their pre-battle cannonade, using the exploding shells they had salvaged from the aliens' supplies. A brief fifteen minutes of continuous fire accounted for nearly a quarter of the invaders, clustered as they were in the meadow.

In an effort to flank the humans and interrupt or divide their fire, the Admiral sent fifty fighting drones to proceed down the highway to attack the guerillas. The small force encountered some invisible obstacle which forced them northward, into the bog which was the source of the brackish water which had sickened the early arrivals at the meadow. None of the group returned to inform the two officers of their fate.

During the bombardment, the two alien officers consulted, then ordered the battle drones and breeders, acting as non-commissioned officers, to mass at the eastern edge of the meadow, ready to attack as soon as the shelling ceased.

Looking eastward, they saw an open space, extending eastward about a tenth of a magetreme, terminated by a hedgerow of a mix of brambles, climbing roses and hawthorns. Nearly invisible, a dozen metres beyond the hedgerow, was a gully, easily ten metres deep, with a rapidly moving stream at the bottom.

At the first break in the shelling, the drones were given the signal to advance. They were wearing their body armor and carrying the weapons Susie had called muskets, similar to magazine fed shotguns.

At the signal, the first rank of drones stepped over a split rail fence, into the open area. They had hardly advanced five metres when the first sign something was wrong was noticed. Bloody footprints began to be seen. The first drones entering the battlefield began to drop, woozy with the loss of blood and other body fluids.

The ranks behind them, programmed to advance, regardless of what the forward ranks were doing, simply marched over their fallen comrades, grinding them into the broken glass littering the area. Within a few feet, they, too, began to drop. By the time the drones got to the hedgerow, between a quarter and a third of them had succumbed to the broken glass.

Pressure from the advancing rear ranks pushed the leading drones into the thorn filled hedgerow, tattering armor and skin beneath it. If a drone hesitated, or stopped to release a tatter of armor caught up on a thorn, or to pluck a thorn from its skin, the drone behind simply walked up and over it, sometimes to fall into a nest of brambles, to serve as a walkway for those following; sometimes to present a barrier, forcing drones in the rear to deviate from their path, crowding those to the side into unbroken pathways of thicker, denser thorns. Traversing the hedgerow cost the aliens another three to four hundred drones.

The final two feet of the hedgerow, the brambles, hawthorns and roses were so thickly packed and intergrown they were like a thick net. The vegetation was so thick there was no room to swing their machetes to chop a way through the wall of thorns. The only thing to do was to allow oneself to be pushed, hoping to break a pathway for the drones and troops behind.

When the break finally occurred, it usually resulted with several drones spilling through the opening, uncontrollably plummeting across the last few yards to the gully, and over the bank, to be swept into the river by the fast moving stream. By the time the Dhogian troopers got through the bramble barrier, there were fewer than twenty of the battle drones left, none of the breeders.

As the troopers watched, a series of fireballs seemed to speed toward them from the guerilla camp, to engulf each of the battle drones, incinerating them. When the last fireball had consumed its drone, the troops heard the command to lay down their arms and return to their base on the other side of the hedgerow.

Of the three hundred troopers the aliens had arrived with, there were twenty-five or thirty who had not been fit for duty that morning. Fully a third of the remainder had been eliminated by the 'environmental booby traps' the resistance had put in place. As they fought their way through the hedgerow, and broke free of the entangling thorns, they stumbled into their fellow troopers, waiting on the edge of the gully, knocking them down.

Those who were knocked down, and those who missed their fellow troops and careened toward the gully were surprised to find their fall into the stream blocked by an invisible wall, more surprising and frightening than comforting.

While they briefly contemplated the order to lay down their weapons and return through the hedgerow to the camp, many turned to look at the hedgerow, as if considering returning. They saw an open line of hawthorns, interspersed with some climbing roses. The brambles had disappeared. Again, the action of the guerillas added more to the fright page of the emotion ledger than to the comfort page.

The aliens turned back toward their foe, and as if on signal, raised their weapons and brandished them toward the resistance fighters' camp. The gesture seemed to serve as a signal. Immediately, on the other side of the gully, nearly two hundred men appeared, apparently weaponless.

As soon as they appeared, the non-coms in command of the troopers along the gully issued the command to hold fire. Through the hedgerow, Kirk and his command team could be seen driving into the aliens' camp. In a few minutes, the troopers heard Kirk making them an offer similar to one he proposed to the Admiral and the Commander.

"Troopers have two choices. "The first is to die here, now. The second is to join the crew of the last remaining space ship and accompany them on their final trip into the Sun, a journey of roughly seven Earthly rotations.

"If you choose to die now, it will be quick and painless. If you choose to join the space ship, lay down your weapons and return to the camp. You have ninety seconds to decide."

To their credit, no trooper still on his feet chose to delay death. On the tick of the 95th second, a wall of flame swept across the gully, eliminating the alien troopers.

The same thing happened to those unfit for duty remaining in the camp, and to troopers around the world. By second number 100, only the Admiral and the Commander were left from the invasion force nearly five years ago.

Kirk turned to the officers and was just about to tell them that, as officers, they merited their own firing squad, when Susie called to him, "Wait, Kirk, I know that sadistic son of a sow. He's the bastard who murdered my family, forcing Shirley and I to watch after he raped us in front of our men."

Kirk looked at her, puzzled. From all they had learned, only the breeders seemed interested in having any kind of sexual experience with the Earth women. When he voiced his belief, Susie told him her story.

"My family lived in Detroit, well, one of the suburbs. It was the weekend after they crashed into the towers. You remember, they spent the next two days attacking and dispersing the Earth's armies and navies. They literally cut the legs off the air forces by pellet bombing the runways and fuel depots, making the planes useless..."

It was a beautiful September day, except for the pall hanging over the nation from the attack. Susan and her husband had invited his brother and his family over for a cookout. Susan was in the kitchen, preparing a salad with the help of Shirley, her sister-in-law, while the men, her husband, Steve, brother-in-law, Gary, and Shirley's dad, Chet, were out back doing the steaks. Timmy, Susan's son, was up in his bedroom packing to leave for college that weekend.

Crag-3 had just been promoted to Captain and put in charge of imposing martial law in one of the states in the north-central part of the richest country on the planet they had just invaded. He was out with his troops, conducting what the manual referred to as 'shock and awe' raids. The object was simply to instill fear and the belief that the invaders were capable of the utmost in depravity and cruelty, if not immediately obeyed.

They were patrolling one of the large suburbs of an industrial city in his state. Crag-3 pointed to a house at random, saying, "That looks like a good one. Let's go have some fun."

Just as Susan and Shirley finished putting the finishing touches on the salad, there was a loud crash in the living room, followed by some shouting in a language she couldn't identify. She heard the pounding of feet running up the stairs to the second floor.

When she glanced out the window to the patio, she saw a half dozen of what had to be alien soldiers. Two more came storming into the kitchen, to grab the two women and drag them to the living room.

Susie and Shirley were clinging to each other, kneeling on the floor. Susie heard noise on the stairs and looked up in time to see two aliens dragging Timmy down the steps. Before she could react, the soldiers she had seen outside pushed the older men into the room, to line them up against the wall.

Crag-3 stepped forward, and in heavily accented English, introduced himself. "I am Crag-3, Dhogian Capitan in charge of this province, which is now under our military rule. We are here seeking volunteers to service the native inhabitants who aided us in our invasion.

"Females, stand up!" he shouted, gesturing at the women. They scrambled to their feet, still huddled together. Crag-3 approached them and pulled them apart. He seemed to sniff the air around them.

His long thick nose and mouth, which, with the lack of a chin, typical of the invaders, was the source of their nickname, showed just the hint of a smile where his nose blended into his cheeks.

He could just detect an odor of fear from one of the women, but couldn't, just yet, tell which one. Bending over, he ran his snout up Susie's thighs, pushing her skirt up, until he bumped her panty-clad vulva. He tapped it a few times with his snout, making her jump. Laughing, he did the same to Shirley, discovering she had come visiting sans panties. She was the source of the odor.

Taking hold of her skirt, he turned her to face the men, exposing her pubes to them. "To whom does this whore belong?" he asked.

My daughter is no whore," shouted Chet, earning him a gun barrel across the skull, knocking him to the floor.

"She's my wife," answered Gary.

"And the other one belongs to you?" Crag-3 asked, pointing at Steve, who nodded in return. "Who do you belong with, then?" he asked, looking at Timmy.

"He's my son," replied Steve, eliciting an evil smile from the alien Capitan.

"All you males, strip, now! Remove all your clothing!" he shouted. Several of the soldiers pushed forward, their hands on the hilts of some ugly looking knives. Hesitantly, the men obeyed.

When the four of them finally were naked, the alien invaders began to snicker and laugh, pulling the men's hands away from their genitals, and rewarding any tendency to replace them with blows to the abdomen and/or head.

Crag-3 turned to look at a young alien, in a similar, less showy uniform, whom the women would learn was a junior officer, and in their foreign tongue ordered him to come forward and take command of Shirley.

The troops moved to form a ring around the back of the men, making sure they paid full attention to the officers, who were standing between the women so neither could see what was happening to the other.

Susie felt Crag-3's right hand begin to lightly rub her belly, while his left slid over her shoulder and into the neck of her blouse. When she closed her eyes in embarrassment, she received a nasty pinch on the upper slope of her breast.

The only one she was ashamed to have watch as she was abused was her son. Chet had taken her virginity when she had gone to a slumber party for Shirley's eighteenth birthday. She and Shirley often traded partners when the couples visited without children around.

Crag-3 had reached her nipple, and his right hand was now stroking her vulva through her skirt. He stopped and pushed his hand into the row of buttons and pulled her blouse open, then off. He did roughly the same with her skirt, so she was standing in front of the men naked except for her panties.

"Remove them," he ordered her, leaving no doubt about what he meant. Sobbing softly, she complied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the young officer frigging Shirley.

When she took too long stepping out of her panties, Crag-3 began to explore Susie's rosebud with his finger. She quickly stood up straight, only to have him continue his exploration, widening it to include her pussy.

She heard the two officers and some of the troops begin to snicker and looked around to see why. The reason was obvious. The men were beginning to become erect, watching the aliens abuse the wives.

Crag-3 put some pressure on her shoulders, pushing her to the floor. When she was on her knees, he pushed her to lie on her back, legs up and parted, revealing her most secret parts to the view of everyone in the room, except for Shirley, who was in the same position.

Crag-3 straddled her head. Looking up, Susie shuddered. He had removed his trousers, exposing a weird tri-budded growth where human males sported their penis and testicles. As she watched, each of the growths began to elongate and thicken, the center one, thicker and longer than the other two. He squatted slightly, and commanded, "Open!"

When she did not immediately comply, he barked an order at one of the troops who quickly came and knelt by her side and forced her mouth open far enough for Crag-3's center cock to enter and reach the back of her throat.

With an evil grin, he flexed his snake-like cock, moving it around the inside of her mouth, so she could watch as the rest of it seemed to dance, moving back and forth, and circling, very much like an Indian music charmer's cobra.

After amusing themselves in the women's mouths for several minutes, the alien officers moved between the women's legs and began to explore their vaginas.

Susie learned that Crag-3 had the ability to vary, not only the length of his main cock, but also the thickness. He used that ability to test her capacity, both for volume of cock, and for pain, as he stretched her vagina to its limits. Her screams of pain seemed to both amuse and arouse him.

His curiosity satisfied, he pushed all three of his snakes into her sheath and began to fuck her in earnest, each cock moving at differing speeds, and to varying depths. In spite of herself, partly in response to hearing Shirley's scream of release, Susie began to climax, triggering Crag-3's first emission of alien seed.

The alien discharge burned in Susie's cunt, not just from the body heat , but it caused a stinging feeling, very much like an acidic sap. It also left her cervix permanently scarred, impassable for human sperm. But this she wouldn't know for several months.

After coming in her quim, and stirring his emission so it coated her walls, Crag-3 withdrew one of his side cocks and presented it to Susie's mouth to clean. When it was done to his satisfaction, he pushed it into her rosebud, as far as he could push it.