Alien Conquest

by Alien Conquest (lit)

  ALIEN CONQUEST

  By

  Tracy St. John

  © copyright May 2011, Tracy St. John

  Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright May 2011

  ISBN 978-1-60394-500-4

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  Cassidy Hamilton sighed before shoving a chocolate in her mouth. As cloying sweetness invaded her taste buds, she studied the page displayed on her illuminated reader for the second time.

  The book was a dry read, a dissident rant from decades before when Earth's nations had first been gathered under one banner, ending all war on her home world. Peace reigned over the once battle-torn planet for the most part, tended to by armored soldiers and soulless battle drones capable of wiping out entire cities. Revolts had been quashed with quick ruthlessness, barely disturbing the fearful complacency of the general populace.

  The author of this particular book had no doubt been executed for his anti-unified government views. The long-ago renegade seethed over the assertion all Earth's outdated nuclear warheads had been detonated in space, an impossibility he warned, given the smallness of the blasts transmitted through the government-controlled media. He then went on with extensive mathematical formulae to prove his point, formulae that went on for five pages.

  It wasn't that Cassidy couldn't grasp the weighty data. She played in mathematics the way a child might play with clay. Normally, she'd be scrutinizing the computations, looking for errors or little twists in logical application that would serve the author's needs. Tonight she couldn't concentrate though. The knowledge that more interesting tomes awaited in the illicit book collection stored in her reader kept her from focusing on the outlawed manuscript.

  She shifted, searching for a more comfortable position in the cramped ventilation shaft. Stretched out on her belly, her stiff, long-sleeved nightgown bunching around her knees, it wasn't easy to move around. The narrow ductwork, glowing silvery-white in the wash of light from her reader, was the only place she dared to read the illegal materials she'd downloaded from her grandfather's collection before being sequestered in the convent on Europa.

  It was still early in the convent's sleeping hours on the eternal night side of the moon. Cassidy read every night in her hiding place, nibbling on sweets and snacks bought with the modest allowance her grandfather sent her. She'd been stuck on Europa for three years now, her days a monotonous drone of praying, tending crops, scrubbing floors, and Bible study. Even creeping through the ventilation system to spy on her fellow aspirants and the nuns had worn out its novelty. Only the stolen collection of banned books kept her mind sharp and sane. Fortunately, the library was vast. She'd barely sampled the many offerings her grandfather had kept hidden deep in secret computer files.

  Cassidy didn't have to wonder why her grandfather, so strict and upright with the Church's teachings, possessed the illegal book collection. His oft-quoted direction to the soldiers beneath him was, "Know the enemy better than you know yourself." She could imagine him studying the words that enthralled her, his thin lips pressed in a bitter line of disgust.

  She was halfway through the page once more when she realized she had again not digested anything she'd read. The siren call of the book she'd discovered two weeks ago kept her usually thirsty brain from absorbing the current material.

  The Church taught women were innately evil, awash in sin. Cassidy's preoccupation with her recent discovery certainly bore that out. She'd had no idea what she'd find when she opened the file labeled The Kama Sutra, and she hadn't been able to get the illustrations out of her head since then.

  Just like your mother.

  Cassidy shook her head, and her long, platinum blond hair spilled over the reader. No, she'd never offered herself to any man, had never even shown a man any part of her devil flesh. She was not the harlot her mother had proved to be.

  But the urges were there. That she could not deny. Right now, there was nothing she wanted to do more than look at those pictures of men and women committing sinful acts. Like Eve, she was seduced by the temptation of the forbidden.

  Just looking won't hurt. It's not like you're fornicating.

  Cassidy gave up, tapping the screen with a trembling finger to change books. She tried not to think about how much easier it got each night to talk herself into viewing the taboo pictures.

  She rolled over on her back as the first image came on the screen. Licking her lips, she scrolled through the illustrations slowly, her eyes drinking in the images of men piercing women from every angle possible. When she got to the end of the book, she started over.

  Her thick cotton panties were soon damp. The scent of her juices, reminiscent of the salty tang of the Neuse River back on Earth, teased her nostrils. Cassidy looked at the artwork depicting a man, his devil flesh drawn out in a straight line from his body, inserting fingers into the gaping sex of a smiling woman.

  She drew her knees up like the woman in the picture, and the stiff fabric of her nightgown slid down her thighs to bunch at her hips. Cassidy drew light circles on her inner thigh with her fingertips as she studied the illustration. Her womanhood flexed with arousal, and she bit back a moan. What was it like, to feel something penetrate her body? Did it feel as good as touching the outer parts of her secret flesh? To judge by the smiling participants in every picture, the sensation must be pleasant.

  Cassidy's fingers slid down her soft, downy inner thigh and danced delicately over the moist crotch of her panties. She knew where the spot was, the sweet nubbin of skin that felt best. After only a moment's hesitation, she touched it.

  A warm, melting sensation poured through her core. Cassidy sighed.

  The characters in the book were all thin dark-skinned people with black hair, definitely nothing like her pale, amply curved body. The people of Earth came in so many colors and sizes, a smorgasbord of offerings. She wondered how many men would find her attractive with her rounded buttocks and large breasts. She certainly didn't look like the almost sexless twigs venerated on magazine covers. Her love for the comfort of snack food since her mother's arrest had made her a far cry from fashionably thin. Fortunately a good metabolism and hard physical work kept her reasonably in shape. When her face warmed in a blush from the thought of a man seeing her naked, it wasn't because her body embarrassed her.

  She scrolled to the next image, her favorite. The man mounted the female from behind, his organ poised just at her opening. Cassidy studied the mushroom top of his sex. What must that be like, to have a rod of flesh sticking out from one's loins, she wondered? Her breath came quickly now, and she forced her fingers to move more slowly against her straining bud. The lightning flashes of pleasure subsided into a pleasurable hum.

  She tried to imagine herself as the woman in the illustrations, crouched on all fours, feeling the man kneeling between her legs, the hardness of his erect sex touching her entrance, poised to plunge into her body. His hands gripping her hips. His penis slowly parting her wet lips…

  Cassidy's fingers slipped into the leg band of her panties. For only the third time in her nineteen years, she touched bare sinful flesh. She arched with a soft groan, and her fingertips slid against wet warmth. The reader fell from her other hand, landing softly on the cushion of her breasts.

  Both hands plunged into her panties, rubbing and caressing her aching sex, spiking desire from the depths of her womb. She was unaware of the tears creeping from beneath her closed eyelids as the pressure built within until it cascad
ed in warm convulsions to leave her sobbing with release. She moaned softly, her thighs clenched around her hands as her softness throbbed.

  Sinner. Whore. Unclean harlot.

  The guilt flooded in as the last joyful spasms flexed in her belly. But stroking her devil flesh felt so good. Why had God made the most sinful touch also the most pleasurable? Not for the first time, Cassidy's intellect warred with her faith. So much of the Church's teachings made little sense when she thought about them. If only she could resign herself to the pure faith that would keep her soul blameless, she lamented. If only her evil mind would quiet and leave her in peace.

  * * * *

  Tranis didn't hear Lidon move to his side, but he could smell him. The Nobek's pleasant animal-like musk was all that gave away his approach. He was a predator through and through, a prime example of Kalquor's warrior caste.

  Tranis kept his attention focused on the vid transmission of his quarry as if he could will it into his possession. They'd stalked the Earther spaceship for three days now. The time to take action was upon him.

  Lidon's deep voice finally spoke, low and intimate into Tranis' ear. "No sign they've detected our pursuit, Captain."

  "How long before they reach Earth's main security grid?"

  "Two days, but we might run into security check points before then. They'll break communication silence once they get past the largest gas giant. They call it Jupiter, after some ancient Earth god."

  "Earthers and their religious fascinations." Tranis shook his head and darted a glance at the huge planet displayed on another vid. Its reddish striations and swirls were hypnotic in their beauty, a pretty round bauble seemingly suspended on one side of the stark command center. He paused for a brief second to enjoy the view before redirecting his focus once more to his prey.

  Jupiter. Named for an Earther god. How typical. Was there nothing related to Earth that didn't have religious connotations? Their fanaticism had brought on the war driving Tranis' people toward extinction faster than the virus had. A year ago, Kalquor had a projected 300 years of survival left for its pureblood citizens. Now the number was 275 and falling fast.

  The irony never failed to make him wince. The race destroying his was also the Kalquorians' only hope for survival. What a sick joke.

  Ten men manned the bridge of the spy ship he commanded. Most bent over free-floating computer consoles, their purple eyes absorbing the green-tinged vid readouts as they gathered information. Forty more men, mostly ground infiltration teams, were on the ship.

  At the front of the room three large vids floated, their combined size spanning the height and width of the chamber. On the left was the monumental gas giant Jupiter, its rust-colored stripes giving the dimly-lit room a reddish hue. In the center was a diagnostic readout, containing exhaustive information about the planet, their position, ship status and the Earther transport.

  The third vid showed the Earther transport, a blocky unobtrusive spaceship designed to convey supplies and goods. And in this case, a certain General Patrick Hamilton. The military leader was in charge of Earth war supplies. He was hurrying home after engaging in talks with the agricultural planet of Adraf. Millions of Earther soldiers, all looking to spill Kalquorian blood, needed a lot of food after all. And Adraf didn't mind selling to anyone with ready funds, be they Earther or Kalquorian.

  Tranis eyed the Earther transport they followed and licked his lips. "So Commander Lidon, if we're going to make our move it will have to be soon?"

  "Don't do it until you're absolutely ready to commit. If we get any closer, they'll be on to us."

  Tranis nodded. His spy ship was cloaked, which worked well enough to fool the eye. Its movement caused distortions in the field around it, making it easy for the Earthers to detect it in a scan. Being discovered by their enemy would be a very bad thing. Earther courier transports, like the one he was currently stalking, were just as heavily armed as their fighters.

  Score one for paranoia, he thought. Even Lidon's lightning fast reflexes and expertise with weapons wouldn't make up the difference if they got into a firefight with the larger vessel. Spy ships were made for speed and infiltration, not battle.

  First Officer Simdow turned from his computer's green-lined readout. His broad, dark face was animated with excitement. "Earther transport is slowing, Captain."

  "Match speed to maintain distance," Tranis said, his calm tone a counterpoint to Simdow's nervous pitch. Simdow was capable but young and anxious with inexperience. The whole crew was untried with the exception of Tranis' clan. Most experienced Kalquorians were fighting the war now, leaving him in command of raw youth. Nevertheless, his fifty-man crew represented Kalquor's last best hope for survival.

  Tranis' stomach churned.

  "What are they up to?" Lidon wondered out loud. "All stations on alert."

  Tranis looked at his clanmate of six years, marveling anew at his fortune to have Lidon as his Nobek. The warrior was the eldest of their clan, thirty years Tranis' senior, but still a young man by Kalquorian standards.

  They were nearly the same height and weight, average for their race, colossal in comparison to their Earther enemies. Lidon's blue-black hair hung straight to his muscular shoulders, left bare by his sleeveless, red-trimmed black formsuit. His clean-shaven lean face was grim with determination.

  "I doubt we've been detected," Tranis said softly.

  Lidon turned his predatory gaze to study Tranis. Blue-purple with slitted pupils, those eyes missed nothing. "They've surprised us before. They may not have our technology, but stupidity is not one of their weaknesses."

  "They continue to slow, sir. They're approaching one of the planet's moons," Simdow reported.

  Lidon hurried to his own computer vid to study the readout. His slight limp was a remnant of a horrific injury he'd suffered long before Tranis had met him. It kept him from typical Kalquorian quickness, but he could move fast when he had to.

  "The moon is named Europa," he said, scanning his reports. "We have no intelligence concerning any bases, military or otherwise, on that moon."

  A secret installation? "Does it have an atmosphere?"

  "Oxygen-based, but not the right mix to support Earthers. Temperatures are well below minus-200 degrees. If they're using it, the installation would have to be containment-based."

  Simdow matched their calm tones with his own, falling back into his habit of emulating the elder officers. "The Earther transport has dropped into orbit around the moon."

  "Hold here," Tranis ordered. He left his computer podium to join Lidon. "Do you think it's a trap?"

  Lidon's fingers flew over his computer controls, bringing up readouts faster than voice commands could manage. Despite knowing Tranis could see the information himself, protocol demanded the Nobek answer his captain. "There is no sign of other ships in the vicinity." He pursed his lips and growled so only his clanmate could hear, "I don't like this, Tranis."

  A slight smile curled one side of the captain's mouth. His voice deliberately challenging, he answered, "I want General Hamilton."

  Lidon twitched, the slight movement the only indication his hunter's instincts were aroused. His expression remained grim, but Tranis heard the smile in his voice. "Caution is for Imdikos."

  Tranis clapped a hand to his clanmate's shoulder in an uncharacteristic show of public affection. "And our Imdiko will have our heads if we rush in blindly."

  Lidon snorted amusement as Tranis resumed his place at the captain's podium. "Hold here until the Earther ship's sensors are blocked by their orbit of the moon. When they're out of range, proceed in slow. We'll enter orbit on the opposite side of Europa."

  Simdow acknowledged, "Yes, Captain. We will enter orbit in two hours."

  Tranis didn't mind waiting despite his eagerness to capture the transport and the Earther general traveling in it. He was a patient man, after all.

  * * * *

  The spy ship's senior officers gathered in the strategy room, a fancy name for a space that con
tained a long, low table and several chairs. Lidon sat still, but inwardly he chafed at the delay. All but one of the required members had arrived, and he caught Tranis' eye before glancing pointedly at the chronometer.

  "Degorsk is on his way," the captain said. "Go ahead and start, Commander Lidon."

  The Nobek rose from his seat and started for the front of the room, ignoring the now-familiar pull of his right leg. He was halfway there when the door slid open and Degorsk walked in. He nodded at Lidon, his eyes narrowing slightly at his clanmate.

  Lidon offered him a shrug and kept moving towards the head of the table. Degorsk was not only the ship's chief medic, he was also Lidon and Tranis' Imdiko, the clan caregiver. Exquisitely tuned to discern the slightest hint of physical discomfort from his clanmates, Degorsk had immediately noticed Lidon's limp was a little worse than usual. Fortunately, Lidon could count on the Imdiko to not humiliate him by fussing over him in public.

  Of course, Degorsk had other ways of embarrassing his predatory Nobek and staid Dramok clanmates. A much younger Lidon would have been aghast to know he'd end up clanned to a man who delighted in practical jokes and bawdy humor.

  Lidon turned to face the other four men seated at the table. His eyes were immediately drawn to his clanmates. Like most Kalquorians, they possessed the same dark coloring, purple eyes, and similar muscular physiques clothed in black formsuits. They still managed to look nothing alike.

  Tranis' features were broader, thicker. His beard accentuated his strong jaw. He let his wavy hair fall loose to his shoulders. His stern, no-nonsense expression betrayed little of his youth and spoke volumes of the man's maturity. Tranis was the epitome of Kalquor's Dramok breed, a born leader. He had attained the rank of captain faster than any Kalquorian before him for very good reason.

  By contrast, Degorsk's clean-shaven face was leaner, sharper. His waist-long hair was pulled back in a thick braid. A slight smile softened his face. Even now, with the ship on high alert and readying to attack the Earther transport, the Imdiko managed an air of good humor. He couldn't have been more opposite in temperament to Lidon's warrior mentality. That the scarred Nobek had clanned with such a man confounded Lidon's underlings to no end, but no one would ever dare ask the question of why the match had been made. It was just as well; the answer would have confused them even more.