The Fall of Scharun; The Tragedy of Zolink xol Bazul

Once upon a time in a city that floated upon the polar sea of Scharun called by its inhabitants First-Arc, there lived a young man named Zolink xol Bazul. Zolink had lived a happy childhood filled with music and laughter. His mother was a famous musician who had become an interstellar celebrity with trillions of albums sold across thousands of star systems.

People all over the Alliance knew Zelza xol Bazul’s music. The Schar sensation sold out giga-stadiums on any planet or station she played. Her music was beloved by Schar universally, both on the homeworld and among the vast majority of Schar living and working on the more habitable planets of The Alliance. A great deal of the appeal of Zelza’s music is the way it captured the spirit of life in the Tri-Arch and the struggles of the people crammed into the three great cities that represented the only places on their homeworld still habitable to the proud and ancient Schar race.

Zelza had married a young promising police officer who rose through the ranks to become the chief of security for FirstArc, responsible for the safety and well being of four billion souls and with high enough of a security clearance to receive access to CGA central intelligence briefings of classified information. Brideng tol Bazul was seen as an icon of justice, an unshakable crusader of law and order who tirelessly protected people from the Federation infiltrators.

The citizens of Scharun lived with the threat of invasion by the humans forever hanging over their heads. For a people as artistic, compassionate, and liberated as the people of the Schar homeworld, the horrors of NOXET were horrific beyond anything they could have imagined in their worst nightmares. Everyone knew how the humans infected people with a nanovirus that made them want to be slaves. It was common knowledge that the Federation would re-engineer their captives on the genetic level to be more sexually appealing to the sadistic monsters who held them prisoner.

What most people on Scharun did not know that Zolink had known ever since his dad had let his work password slip, was just how much hatred and sadism the humans had for everyone who was not one of them. Zolink had watched classified holovids that were considered casual viewing entertainment and slice-of-life content from within Federation space.

He saw Ligreon’s **** full of intoxicants made to dance as children were encouraged to throw rocks at them. How the once proud warrior race were now trained from birth to act like fools and clowns. How a society that produced some of the most sagely philosophers and beautiful poetry had been systematically destroyed until the only remnants of Ligreon’s pre-conquest civilization reside in museums and libraries of the CGA heartworlds.

He saw Amarleans screaming as they were twisted into bipedal forms made to bend down onto new knees and thank their owners for a form closer to that of “The Master Race.” Zolink saw how their tailed kin were used to clean sewage systems and toil in great kelp plantations before ending their lives on a human’s dinner table. Humans prefer to eat Amarleans while still alive and wriggling. But the very cooking shows that make this claim then go into exhaustive details on the best way to prepare Amarlean, baked wrapped in foil is popular, but not as much as deep fried. Zolink had seen the way that the chefs made the graceful aquatic creatures perform acrobatic dives into the vats of grox tallow. He had heard the sound they made as they fried for their owners. It was the creepiest thing Zolink had ever seen. For all the agony and pain the poor creatures were in, the Amarleans all shared this look of joy on their faces as they burned, as if nothing could make them happier than boiling in oil with the knowledge after dying in such horrific fashion, their bodies would be placed on a platter to be feasted on by the monsters who had taken everything from them.

Then there was The Dranza. Zolink could not imagine how anyone could hate anything the way that humans hated The Dranza. In some part of Federation space, the ten planets of The Arisaka Cluster being a primary example, it was as if the humans had reorganized their entire civilization around the eternal collective punishment of humanity’s most hated enemy. It does not help that since are so prolific in the fecundity that they are seen as highly replaceable with their population projected to continue to grow despite active culling efforts by some systems to keep the ‘wild’ population of Dranza that hatch from rogue eggs and not inside of a the massive factory farm where The Dranza can spend two decades without ever seeing the sun before emerging into a nasty, brutish, short, life of servitude to sadists who go out of their way to remind them that they are worthless scum who should be grateful that the humans allow them to even live at all.

Zolink xol Bazul knew all of this and more about humans. So on that terrible day when the warning klaxons screamed out within earshot of all nine billion Schar living in the three arcs, Zolink knew exactly what was at stake if the defense forces could not stop the Federation Armada.

It had started like a typical school day. Dad cooked breakfast while Mom proofread his sisters’ math homework. Twins were rare among the Schar and always born possessing unique psionic abilities which made them icons of worship considered endowed with divine radiance by certain religious groups and occult practitioners. Something that Brilda and Zhansi occasionally let go to their heads. “Laziness is not allowed in this house young ladies, I want to see your proofs on every problem, you cannot just let the A.I. do all of the heavy lifting. You will never know when you are going to need to calculate your own jump.” Zelza chastised her daughters. “So Zolink, has Binzi asked you to the dance yet?” The Schar woman asked her son.

The boy groaned. “Mom. I know that Binzi xol Lokta and I have been friends forever.” Not to mention she had been the first girl that Zolink had touched antenna with, something Zolink would never talk about with his mother. “But she is like, the coolest, prettiest…”

“““HEY!””” Brilda and Zhansi said in unison.

“Your my sisters, you don’t count.” Zolink said to the twin girls before turning his aulfex back to his mother. “She is amazing and way out of my league. Why would she ask me out?”

“You are, you know, kinda famous.” Brilda said.

“Mom is famous, Dad is famous, you two are witches. I am just ordinary.” Zolink said.

“You are the leading singer in a band, you are captain of your stickball team, and you won the all sector pankration tournament two years in a row. You are far from ordinary.” Zelza said. “Just tell her how nice her ridges look this morning, and ask her if she has chosen a dance partner yet.”

Zolink ran into Binzi between Astrogation and Anaareal Literature as she walked by his locker. “Thanks!” She said. Her aura glowed at his compliment. Before Zolink could even ask her, Binzi twisted her antennae together in a typical expression of nervousness before she said. “So I was wondering if anyone has asked you to be their dance partner. I know you probably already said yes to someone. But, if you are still available…”

“Yes!” Zolink shouted, realizing he looked like a fool, the young Schar male relaxed his posture and lowered his voice before he said. “I mean, Yes. I am still available. I would love to take you to the dance.” Zolink said. “Nothing could make me happier.”

Binzi let out a trill of excitement. “Wow! Excitement overload, know what I mean?”

“Yeah. This is going to be so…” Zolink was interrupted by the eruption of warning sirens and the howling of emergency klaxons.

“This is not a drill. Human warships have entered the system. Seek shelter now. Martial law is in effect. All militia, report for duty. This is not a drill. Human warships have entered the system. Seek shelter now. Martial law is in effect. All militia, report for duty.This is not a drill. Human warships have entered the system. Seek shelter now. Martial law is in effect. All militia, report for duty…” The message repeated over and over as students began to panic. Some collapsed to the floor and began to wail in panic while one asshole ran through the hall as he sang “ITS THE END OF THE WORLD! WE ARE FUCKED WE ARE FUCKED WE ARE FUCKED. LAST DAY OF SCHOOL BECAUSE TOMORROW IS LICK A HUMAN’S ASSHOLE DAY!...”

“Everyone! Stay calm and move to the shelters in a calm and orderly fashion.” The stickball coach’s voice boomed through the hallways. “I know you are scared, but we have prepared for this day. Just follow the emergency protocols and trust that the Alliance Navy and the Arc Defense **** will protect us. Panicking only makes us easier for the humans to steal.”

The students and teachers began to calm down. Zolink and Binzi held one another’s hands as they entered the armored bolthole with an independent air scrubber. After the doors sealed all aulfex became fixated on the reports from the battle in deep space hoping for some good news. The students and faculty shared a singular moment of horror as one after another the battleships of the CSA Navy were shredded to pieces by the diminutive but deadly SERAPH-core mechs. “How such small machines could carry such powerful engines and weapons systems?” Zolink heard someone ask as footage of the humanoid warsuits evading storms of missiles getting close enough to the pride of the 71st fleet's capital craft to tear their hulls apart with vorpal lances that cut ships larger than some cities into pieces. Those ships that were not destroyed became covered in breaching pods that doubtlessly held the countless swarms of Vyraxis hunter killers directed by Ligreon shock marines under the command of humans clad in Symix enhanced gridpower armor, all of them saturating the halls and passage with the humans’ nefarious **** gas.

After the complete destruction of the 71st fleet. The news channels stopped updating people on the invaders’ progress, repeating the same tired lines distress signals and courier boars were sent to CSA Navy sector command and that the orbital defense platforms would keep the humans at bay until help could arrive. The official statement from system security was that the human armada had suffered severe damage with many ships destroyed or disabled. The news media all insisted that the evidence suggested that the human ships were slowing their progress in-system to make repairs with many experts speculating that the human attack **** is too battered to continue their ****, stating that the complete withdrawl of the humans is very likely.

“They are all lying.” Zolink said in hushed whispers to Binzi, as well as their friends Hermne, Harzed, and Ron. Once he realized that the media was feeding the masses canned excrement, Zolink used the credentials he had given himself to log into the Arc Security’s internal communications channels and access the real time defence data. “The orbital platforms are gone. They have already landed dropships and engaged the militia.”

“Is that it!?! Are we going to be…” Binzi’s panic was cut off when Zolink wrapped his antenna’s around hers. “It is not over yet. The Arcs have been been hardened against just this sort of attack. If they want us, it will cost them dearly. They will pay for this city in blood inch by bloody inch.” Zolink held his friend and first love as tightly as he could as they enjoyed the sensation of touching antenna with its intimate stimulation. “But if this is really the end, then there is nowhere I would rather spend it than in your arms.”

“Oh Zolink!” Binzi said as she buried her tears in her friend and first love’s strong arms. In their final days as free Schar, the two were inseparable with only their total lack of privacy preventing them from copulating.

They lasted seven days. Seven days of watching their world fall to the invaders piece by piece, room by room. Zolink watched security footage of Schar men and women sedately emerging from their shelters and meekly following the orders of the invaders like they were high on joygrass.

On the morning of the eighth day, Zolink understood when he woke up and felt strange. The world was unmoored. Reality had unhinged itself as Zolink saw the most mindbending hallucinations that only became more vivid when he shut his aulfex.

“Its the NOXET.” Someone shouted. “The humans got to our life support system. Wow Is anyone else feeling really horny?”

Zolink used his credentials to confirm that, indeed the humans had captured their sector. The humans had loaded a directive into the local area mesh nodes informing all newly subjugated xenos to return to their homes and await further instructions. When Zolink showed this to the teachers, none of them argued. Everyone was tired of hiding. The students and teachers emerged from their shelter to find their section of the megacity overrun by the invaders who largely ignored the young Schar and their teachers. Despites signs of bloody urban combat, the transportation system was largely still intact, all the better for the humans to move their troops and supplies in while moving their slaves and loot out.

Zolink got home to find his mother and sisters waiting for him. His father never returned home. They waited for three days. In that time they spoke to one another very little. They did not have the words to describe what was happening to them or the new, alien feelings and sensations that were being **** upon them.

On the fourth day of their new existence under the influence of NOXET, Bazul family got a visit from a mechanical human who was accompanied by a pack of Vyraxis enforcers. The mechanoid informed Zelza and the younglings that she was FTA5Z census droid. I am here to ascertain your particular worth so that I can assign your ownership rights appropriately. Please answer all questions honestly and in exhaustive detail.”

After a long and thorough interview by the femnoid, the Bazuls were given an appointment for their geneforging “Where you will be assigned to your new owner and become property of The Master Race.” Zolink knew that those words should have horrified him. Instead the young man felt excited. A part of him, a big part of him, could not wait to meet an actual human. Thinking about the smily, hairy, smelly, rapacious monsters used to make Zolink nauseous. Now he could not even think about the word ‘human’ without fantasizing of licking the sweat off one of their sweet, salty bodies began to fill his mind. He tried to call Binzi, she did not answer her comlink. When Zolink tried to think about those last moments as a free man holding his sweetheart, the memories always morphed into perverse images of rubbing in antenna over a human’s genitals. There was no getting around it. All he could think about was humans and how much he wanted to make them happy.

Zolink could not imagine that anything could hurt as much as getting geneforged. It was like someone had replaced his blood with acid after detonating a nuclear device in his guts. He felt every cell in his body broken and rebuilt. Lolink saw what they had done to his mother and sisters before he got a chance to look at his own reflection. They looked strange. Like someone had taken a human and added attributes of a Schar. The entire sensorium was different with the human eyes and ears interfering with the clarity of his aulfex.

“You have been assigned as a family unit as part of the spoil-share for Lord James Fujiwara.” The geneforge technician told Zelza and her children before projecting a holographic image. “This is the man who owns you.” Despite the fact that their humanoid features made very different expressions than their old forms, Zolink did not need his antenna to feel the lust and desire that poured off of his mom and siblings. For his part, Zolink thought that his Master had a handsome enough face with the look of a man who was brave, intelligent, yet kind.

Zolink met James Fujiwara in the flesh for the first time during that initial transit from Scharun to the staging area at Arisaka Nonus. The lights in their cabin cell turned on suddenly as the door which was locked to the room’s occupants opened up to allow a human man reeking of **** to stumble into their domicile. “Where the bitches?” The man slurred.

Zelza xol Bazul, her son Zolink, and her daughter’s Brilda and Zhansi hopped out off their bunks and presented themselves for inspection. Upon realizing that the human was not just any human but was in fact their owner, James Fujiwara, the for Schar fell to their knees and bowed down with the overwhelming need to worship the man to whom they belonged.

“Get up.” James commanded them before falling into the arms of the older woman. “I know you. You are that singer.”

“Yes, Master. I made a living as a musician.” Zelza meekly said, her gaze cast downward.

“Show me.” James said before he stumbled to the wall replicator. The Bazul’s had only been able to make the replicator produce a limited menu of products. James had the machine conjure a banjo and a bloody mary. “Can you play?” James asked, handing the instrument to the woman. As Zelza experimented with a few scales before concluding that it was similar enough with what she was familiar with to make it work. “Play for me, ****.” James commanded.

“Yes, Master.” Zelza began to play. As music filled the crammed accommodations, James grabbed the twins and dragged the two girls into sitting on either side of their owner as he spread himself out to get comfortable.

James started to undue his uniform tunic and unfasten his pants, Brilda and Zhansi took the hint and helped James out of his clothes. The human purred blissfully as the Schar girls caressed his skin. “You two are magic.” He said. James stretched his hands out and enjoyed fondling the two nubile girls between their thighs when he was not getting rough with their breasts. “What are you looking at, boy?” James asked Zolink. “You are awfully pretty for a boy. All of your speciesssislike that. You know. Throw you scrawny Schar asses in the geneforge and default you get a little bitch boy who looks prettier than his sisters. Take off your clothes.”

“Master?” Zolink asked nervously.

“That was not a question. Take off your clothes and start playing with yourself.” James commanded. Zolink said nothing. His Master had given him a command, what could he do but obey? “Show me how hard you can get. I want to see how good a job this GaiaSlut dad cannot shut up about did coding the genes for your dick.” James turned his attention from the boy to his sisters. “The way he talks about this Cooper skank, she is the greatest nanogeneticist since Reinswatter figured out how to brain fuck all of you into being good little bucks and bitches.”

Zolink stood their and stroked his own cock as he watched the man who owned him and his family rip his sister’s clothes off. He played with his own balls and teased his own shaft as his Master plowed first Zhansi, then Brilda. Making them take turns as he sat them on top of his massive shaft and bucked them around. The sound of meat on meat slapping together drowned out by the painful moans of the young and supple Schar nubiles being slapped, squeezed, and otherwise roughed up. Zolink watched the scene playing out in front of him and had an epiphany that was as shocking and terrifying as it was euphoric and liberating. Regardless of all other things, there absolutely nothing hotter than a human fucking the a xeno and showing them who was The Master Race, and who were the slaves. Upon this realization, the Schar boy let out a moan as ejaculates discharged all over the room. Zolink was careful not to splash Master with his semen, but in his haste to not interupt the copulating thrupple, Zolink hit his mother with a wad of his white goo.

Zelza stopped her playing and froze in horror. The silence was broken by the human man’s uproarous laughter. “That is just too fucking rich! Oh man. You are going to be a big hit at the bathhouse.” James stood up still holding onto the twins. “Clean up your son’s mess.” James commanded Zelza. “With your tongue. I want to see you lick up your boy’s semen and tell me if it tastes like citrus fruit the way the genewitch said it would.” James watched the woman on her hands and knees lick up a few of the white globs before the human got bored and dragged the twin xeno cunts with him.

The next morning when he woke up, Zolink found that their food rations was now being served in bowls with names on them. the replicator also two collars with name tags that matched their bowls waiting for them. It was not difficult for the mother and son to deduce which collar was intended for which neck.

***

Four years later and the Schar boy who had once been Zolink xol Bazul was being asked for his name by his new owner. Though it was not finalized, the xeno boy understood that he was being given as a gift to this transcendent. “This **** is called CandyShaft YummyCum. If it pleases you.”

Amandla chuckled. “A bit Erenischian, isn’t it?”

James grimaced painfully. “I was very drunk. And when you look at the pretty little bitch, it fits, don’t it?”

“You have a point there.” Amandla admitted. “Thank you. It is most magnanimous of you.” With that, the leash connected to Rosie was handed to James as the one hundred shackle note was handed to Amandla as the Schar boy was pushed into zer arms.

“If we are all finished playing swap the slaves, there is food to be had and science to be done.” Reagan said as she walked up and gave Sydney a hug and a quick but affectionate kiss before pushing Tigra out of the way to take her place at James’s side. “The future of homo superior awaits!”