The Hierarchy of Now and Forever Ch. 02

***

The war had turned on the Alliance with the betrayal of the Omnidrones. The Zemturga, being vile slavemasters, saw nothing wrong with enslaving a species without even having the gallantry to face them in the field of battle. Working away at complicated mathematics programs for decades, the Zemturga's slaves had finally unlocked the code to alter Omnidrone programming en masse. Before the Omnis know what was happening, the slave code had beamed into their minds at the speed of SOF Radio transmissions.

The Omni fleets had turned upon their allies in a single disastrous, coordinated attack that was now called Black Twoday, as it had taken place on the 4^th of March, 2233. The Alliance fleets had withdrawn in disarray and confusion as Omnis had worked to sabotage any response. Those few Omnis that had been free of the slave programming due to distance or radio shielding fled to the farthest reaches of space as the Alliance fell apart into recrimination.

The Zemturga fleets came, first, to the Yip-Paw-Lob homeworld of Tripletiathreetres. There, their ships had bombarded the planet for three weeks until the three species had each surrendered, emerging from their force shielded cities to find their once verdant paradise of a world had been turned to gray ash and slag. They were then sundered - their species ripped apart and turned into three distinct slave castes: The Yip, who were made into Battle Thralls, the Paw, who were made into Pleasure Serfs, and the Lob, who became Field Servants.

With the proudest race humbled, the Zemtuga had then split their forces. Half had come to the Lithanoids, only to find that their entire civilization had buried themselves into the crust of their homeworld. Rumor and hearsay was that they had unleashed a ferocious tectonic device that rendered the surface of the world into a hellplanet, and even the Zemturga's most vicious battle thralls couldn't land without dying within the hour. If the Lithanoids still lived...none could say. But while the Zemturage took that as a bitter victory, they were delighted by their foray into Qorr space. There, the Quorr, fearing the same destruction that the Yip-Paw-Lob had been served, surrendered and were made Battle Thralls.

The combined fleet then came upon the Sensurians. Rather than facing servitude again, the Sensurians detonated some kind of hypexian device that obliterated their entire solar system by dragging it into the depths of the SOF. They took with them an immense Zemturga fleet...but all that bought the Terrans and the Hylano was time.

The final battle of the war took place above the Earth herself as the UNN and the Hylano defense fleets fought side by side. Their sacrifices were incredible - but futile. For every warsphere they splashed, for every wing of Blades they immolated, for every Battle Thrall the sent to the next world, another dozen would emerge from Tier Three to attack realspace. In the end, the Hylano Queens surrendered their vast worldship fleets, which were sheltering in Earth orbit...and the teeming billions of Terrans on Earth watched as warspheres began to fill their skies.

The war was over.

But the peace had only just begun.

***

Lagrange's reclining parlor was, just as the name implied, the best place that John had ever seen for relaxing. There were many couches, divans and relaxing places to settle down. The view through the window was of the vast, beautiful curve of the Earth, with the Excalibur floating in orbit nearby, tending to the crippled Myg'ga'gar ship that had surrendered. Sparkling lights flickered on the belly of the Excalibur as Chief Kat's crews got to work.

"And that's how the war ended," Lagrange said, shaking his head.

"We need to make sure we get Dr. Darling radio shielded immediately," John said.

"The slave signal isn't sent anymore, it took immense amounts of power...but, still, it is wise," Lagrange said.

"Then that's it, huh?" Albert asked, his voice soft. "The war's over?"

"It's not over until we say it's over," John said, quashing any sense of fear or dread in the room with a confident smile. "Lets first hear about what happened after the War. What happened to Earth? Where's the human race?"

"That's the strangest part of the tale," Lagrange said. "We were made into a Pleasure Serf species, as you can see." His cheeks darkened and he coughed. "B-But, then...the Zemturga began to take us for their own personal enjoyment. According to the Sensurians, that is very strange."

"It is, Captain," Shey said, her voice brittle - John knew that, inside, she was trying to process what it meant to possibly be the last Sensurian in the galaxy. He squeezed her hand, gently. She turned and laced her fingers through his, her voice growing stronger. "T-The Zemturga don't take Pleasure Serfs for themselves, a-as far as my ancestors tell it. Pleasure Serfs are for the use on others within the Totality, not for the Zemturga themselves."

"And how would that even work?" Trianna made a face. "A Zemturga's the size of an elephant!"

"Their tentacles aren't," Albert muttered, darkly.

Everyone considered that in the peaceful silence of the beautiful room. John shook his head. "Did the Zemturga take...everyone on Earth?"

"Most of them," Lagrange said. "The first year, their warspheres came to Earth, and they announced they needed a city for Selection, and for us to choose a city. We didn't know what Selection was. No one did. So, the United Nations made a randomized number generator. It rolled, chose, and...then the Zemturga flew into the air above Buenos Aires. They ripped it out of the crust with gravity tractors...the whole city, and every person in it!"

Lagrange turned to the window - and beneath them, the Earth spun. Clouds parted and John blinked as he saw the craters pockmarking the surface of what looked like Europe spinning beneath them. Sadly, Lagrange put his fingers to the glass. "Madrid, Paris, London, Berlin - they came every month and each month they took a different one. This station was built in orbit and staffed purely to continue to refuel and refit the ships as they came in. Within twelve years, there were almost no Terrans left on the planet."

"What happened to them?" John asked.

Lagrange sighed, slowly. "That? I don't know. The Zemturga haven't returned and news is slow to come to us from the rest of the Empire. For a time, there were several Myg'ga'gar and Swiffo ships that came by to check on us - but the last Swiffo ship barely sent us a radio wave before they skedaddled, and the Myg'ga'gar, well, they are eager to use us in every sense of the word." He made a face. "This latest ship demanded that we hand over the entire crew to be their love pets. We had orders from the Zemturga to keep this station operational - our choices were either to disobey the Zemturga's orders to keep the station running, or disobey the Zemturga's orders to obey any order from a Battle-Thrall."

John sighed, quietly. "That's...a lot to think about." He stood. "But I think I need to hear the rest of the story."

"Oh?" Lagrange asked.

***

The door to the prison chamber opened with a whirr and a click, and the light came on with a soft bink bink noise, revealing the orange and white scaled form of the Myg'ga'gar captainess hung from a set of restraints, her arms above her head, muscular and sleek, her shoulders hunched, her hefty breasts sagging slightly as her head hung forward. She lifted her snakish snout and peered down at John Tangent, who stepped into the room with a wry little smile. He had a book under one arm and carried with him a small chair, which he opened and set down across from the captainess.

"Ah. The fabled Terr-ann hospitality," the ophidian woman crooned. She arched her back sinuously, thrusting her chest out at him. "I wonder, Terr-ann, what torments will you unleash upon my lovely body. Whips? Clamps? Penetrative devices? Or, perhaps-"

"Where did you get the chains?" John asked, sitting down on the chair.

The captiness blinked, then flicked her hood a bit wider. "I-I was put in chains by your fiendish crew."

"I gave orders to the explicit contrary," John said, his voice wry. "Also, I can see the welds I...did you chain yourself up in this room?"

The captainess paused. Then she hissed and lifted her head, her voice dripping with imperious confidence. "I'll never talk, Terr-ann! Hssss!"

John shrugged one shoulder. "Can I at least get your name?"

The Myg'ga'gar paused for a long moment, watching him. She craned her head to try and peer at the book - but the dust jacket was an unremarkable red hue, no name was printed on the side of the primitive media container. She hissed again, then muttered. "Ssivik."

"Well, Captainess Ssivik of the MSN Wrathful Heart, I just came with some questions-"

"Ah, quessssssssstions!" Ssivik hissed, her eyes narrowing. "Now comes the brutality. You will...oh yes, you will tear aside my uniform, freeing my luscious orange breasts, then fondle them so fiercely it will be like pain and pleasure mix together and oh no! I will never tell, even as you ravage me with your mighty Terr-ann cock. Ah, you beast!"

"This must be the famous Myg'ga'garan hypnosis indoctrination," John said, dryly. "You're trying to slip your suggestions into my mind...don't you think I don't spot your eyes." His eyes flickered and then met hers - and Ssvik blinked, then focused hard on him. Her eyes glowed...and began to swirl. Slowly, they twirled and twirled, becoming an intermixing, overlapping swirl of color, like the hypnotic spin of a hurricane seen from orbit. Her tongue darted out and she crooned quietly.

"You will attempt to ravage me," she said.

"I think not," John said, smiling at her.

She blinked, her eyes going from swirls to slits again. "B-But...how!?" She exclaimed. "You should be panting for my snakish body! You should already be balls deep within my quivering snatch, unaware that my fangs are poised to pierce your neck and fill you with the Venom of a Thousand Orgasms!"

"Is that what it's called?" John asked, opening the book and thumbing to where he had left off.

"W...Well, yes, it's because you orgasm constantly until the venom reaches your heart," Ssvik muttered.

"And then?" John asked, glancing up from his book.

"Your heart explodes I...how is the hypnosis not working on you?" Ssvik asked, sounding petulant.

"Maybe I'll tell you if you tell me something about the current state of affairs in the Totality," John said, casually. "About what the Zemturga are up to. What the Myg'ga'garan are up to, for that matter. Everything you know about the galaxy."

Ssvik narrowed her eyes at him. Her tongue flicked out and she slumped. "Fine. But cut me down first." She squirmed. "I did expect you to take me down by now. My wrists hurrrrrrt!" She squirmed, her voice dropping to a whine.

John sighed, then pulled a laser pen from his belt. He aimed it and sliced the chains so that they fell through the loops. Ssvik dropped down and he gestured to a chair that had been built into the wall. She took it, drawing her large tail around her thighs and squeezing it as she harrumphed. "Well!" She said, then leaned back. "Things in the Totality are just peachy."

"Are they?" John asked.

Ssvik hissed. "We Myg'ga'gar are at last free to be ascendant as prime battle-thralls of the Totality. We dominate all in a hundred light year sphere around our homeworld of Serpentis - and...well, okay, there's the issue that the Swiffo refuse to pull any of their weight. And the Urghats have decided that they are the prime Battle Thralls and we've had to fight them several times along our spinward boarder. And the Zemturga haven't been seen for six years. And there's so many egg be damned Terr-ann around!" She scowled. "That's why we wanted to knock your stupid little egg-sucking Terr-ann station out of orbit!"

"Wait, there are Terrans around?" John asked, feeling some of his tension relax.

"Of course! Zemturga loooooooove humans," Ssvik scowled and made a jerking off motion with her other hand - a shockingly Terran gesture. "A Terr-ann gives the High Naga orders from the Zemturga themselves. We've heard that other Terr-ann pleasure serfs are used to give messages from them Zemturga as well, across the Totality. There's Terr-anns on every world the Totality deigns to control, one or two, spread everywhere." She sniffed. "This is being a rumor, yes, but it smacks of truth. You Terr-anns are special."

"We are?" John asked.

"Of course you are, don't you know it? Did not your precious allies in your precious Alliance tell you? Oh that is hilarious!" she cackled, then stood. She reached down and touched John's chin, her fingers stroking along his skin. "You Terr-anns are special because you are attuned to the Third World."

"The...Third World?" John shifted in his seat, his skin tingling at her slightly cool touch. "You mean the SOF?"

"Yessss, the Space Opera Field," Ssvik said, rolling her eyes again. "Such a silly term for it. You Terr-anns attune to it, go faster in it, are treated better by it. You don't even need to adapt your culture to it. It's most unfair." She sniffed.

"Oh, we knew that," John said, closing the book, frowning slightly.

"...oh..."

"Now, are you saying no one has seen a Zemturga for six years?" John asked.

"Well, we've seen their ships, at least!" Ssvik said, hissing.

***

"Bring it up on the map," John said - and Shey tapped a few buttons on her console. The astrocartography room of the Excalibur had a large screen on one wall, designed to do nothing but show off the shape of the galaxy. Colors bloomed across it as Shey's best guesses based on Ssvik's reports came up, showing red, purple, blue, white, gold, black, teal, silver, ocher and brown colors, intermixing together in a ferocious snarl of interlocking astropolities. John pointed them out. "Hylano, Qorr, Yip, Swiffo, Urghants, Myg'ga'gar, Slavedrones, the Vornash, the Kruul, and, finally, the Alezandros. These are all known battle thralls, with countless field servant species serving them and pleasure serf species...ahem...serving them. But then we also have this..." He snapped his fingers and a white and black circle superimposed itself over the heart of the map: A region of space centered around the star Rigel, roughly a hundred light years wide.

"This is where there are rumors of Zemturga fleets engaging other Zemturga fleets," John said. "These rumors are highly speculative. For all we know, it's some religious ritual, or just Zemturga battling new species that have emerged in the area. There's a lot of empty space out there and unexplored regions where anything could crop up. But since the majority of all sighted Zemturga ships are seen in that region...that's what we're going to avoid first."

Lagrange, who was a part of this meeting, frowned. "I'm sorry, Captain, but I just don't see what your one ship, no matter how big can do against an entire Totality."

"The Totality is fracturing," John said, grinning. "They've defeated every enemy in this region of space - and the Zemturga are distracted by either a civil war or a war on a new front that they are loath to use their battle thralls on. According to Ssvik and according to corroborations from her ship's main computer, the Myg'ga'gar and the Urghants are fighting. The Alezandros are raiding and pirating neutral ships. The Yip are taking their pent up anger at being made into war slaves by fighting the Kruul and Vornash at once, and the Vornash seem to be happy to club anything on the head that looks at them funny." He held up his hand before anyone could speak. "This is all extremely low level fighting, as far as we can tell. Skirmishes. Raids. Piracy. But if it can be pushed into a full blown civil war, we can crack the whole Totality up. We can free the Qorr, the Hylano, the Omnis, we can rebuild the alliance, and we can take the fight to the Zemturga with their technology on our side."

Lagrange whistled. "You don't think small captain."

"I'm down!" Trianna said, slapping her palm against the countertop. "Where do we start?"

John looked at Lagrange. The femboy blushed as everyone started to look at him as well.

"It'll all depend," John said, quietly. "Are you willing to put this station to our service. It has full manufacturing capacity. It has thousands of pleasure serfs aboard who just need to cast off their serfdom and become members of the United Nations Navy once more."

Lagrange clenched his hand. He sprang to his feet.

"This old femboy has some fight left in him after all!" He tossed his long, glittering blond hair over one shoulder. "Starbase Commander Quincy Lagrange, at your service, Captain Tangent!" He came to attention and offered his hand. John took it and shook, grinning back as Lagrange chuckled and added. "We're gonna need a name for this rag tag band of rebels you're looking to form into an alliance."

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Trianna said, snapping her fingers. "Call it the United Federation of Free Planets."

"How about the Star League?" Eugene suggested.

"The System Alliance?" Albert said, grinning.

"Pfft!" Shey snorted. "We should obviously call it the...uh..." She paused. "The...the...Grand...Empire of...of...John."

Everyone looked at her.

"Names are hard," she said.

"I'm thinking we should go with the New Interstellar Alliance," John said, dryly.

"Traditional, yes, but it works," Lagrange said, grinning. "The New Interstellar Alliance it is."

***

Chief Kat walked with John through the lower bowls of the Starbase as she rambled excitedly. "So, basically, this manufacturing system is better than anything the UNN had or the Triumvirate, or the Alliance!" She turned to face him, grinning brightly, her ears twitching up. Learning that the Paw, of all the Yip-Paw-Lob, had been made into pleasure serfs, was sadly not entirely surprising to John - it was hard to not notice when one was walking through a narrow corridor with an excited human-ish alien with cat-ears, cat-tail and cat eyes. He forced the thought of how flexible Kat was and instead focused on what she was saying: "It can take any raw material, disassemble it, and then weave it together in any pattern we have. And our ship has the rough patterns on spare parts for any component from the Khan class and Avengers. This means we can reproduce any component we already have. If we want to add a new set of plasma casters, or a new shield emitter, or a fighter bay, we just need to bring the raw materials in and then this thing!" She spread her arms wide. "This thing can fabricate the whole thing for us in a few hours, then insert it into the ship in a few minutes. It's incredible!"

John grinned warmly, lifting his gaze up to look at the wild profusion of machinery above him, forming the 'roof' of the access corridor. "But how do we do the mining?" he asked.

"I'mmmm working on that. How do you feel about flagrant violations of ecological standards and practices?" Kat asked, turning her back on him and sauntering down the corridor. "Here, I wanna show you something."

"I, uh, I kinda like ecologies, they're sort of nice," John said, ambling after his engineering.

"Yes, true, but, we can always avoid using this on any terrasphere of a habitability over fifty percent. Basically, if there's anything more than a microbe, we avoid it. But there's a lot of rocks out there, Captain!" She said, leading him to an elevator, which took them both down. Riding in an enclosed room with Kat as she bounced excitedly in a skintight UNN uniform made John look at the Zemturga numerals above the doorway rather than at his engineer.