Uncharted Worlds: A Tale of Collars And Domination

Uncharted Worlds: A Tale of Collars And Domination

Conquered and Enslaved By An Alien Race

Chapter 1 by BronzePlaceWriter BronzePlaceWriter

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Space heaved and broiled. Reality twisted, frenzied tendrils of ravening space-time lashed like living things. Coruscating waves of raw, searing energy danced across the void in a show of primal power that had not been seen in this place for a million years.

The great ship tore its way through unreality. Her gleaming purple hull alight with the fires of creation. Tendrils danced across her sides, caressing her like the gentle touch of a lover.

If such a touch was able to melt steel like butter.

Her name was the Immaculance, and she was an elegant ship. The very picture of beauty. Her frame was sweeping and soft. Every rough edge or sharp angle had been sanded away. She was a majestic mistress of the stars, a lonesome noble wandering the void. A symbol of the Xelluloid empire, just as every ship of her class was.

She was long and angled, her main body flanked by two close-set wings which swept outwards from her front. The wedge-like shape this created presented a shield of solid metal which covered the glittering array of engines that pushed her forward. Her tone was a deep purple, and even as she recovered from the stress of arrival, new lights began to wink into existence across her slender body.

She was massive; a dreadnought class ship, she was almost three miles long. Her sides glittered with weapons, twisting turrets were already aligning to their newest target. The faintest sheen of a crackling shield traced empty space around her. Primary lance batteries hummed with the promise of destructive power sufficient to scorch the surface of worlds.

A beautiful thing, she was. A symbol, an image of immaculate elegance to live up to her name.

But this image had teeth.

A small, blue-green world lay directly in her path. It was not, in the grand scheme of things, an important world. It was not highly developed. It possessed a basic orbital net, some satellites, and a small dockyard. The planet itself played host to only a few cities, all clustered together on the eastern continent. As cities went, they were small. Hardly even worth such a grandiose descriptor.

It was a colony world and usually, such a thing as this would warrant no attention at all and certainly not from the Xelluloid empire.

But as they say, sometimes you roll the dice and sometimes you get unlucky.

On the bridge of the Immaculance, her commander - Ashara - gazed at the scene via a holographic display. Her command throne took up the majority of the sunken pit into which the bridge was placed. Around her, a dozen officers worked their own consoles. The holographic images floated eerily, dominating the space above the pit.

There was a single raised path which led away from the bridge, flanked by soldiers who stood to rapt attention.

Ashara paid them no mind. She was used to them. Used to the normal bustle of the bridge too. Her singular focus was on the crystal-clear image of the world below. The smallest hint of a smile touched her face.

“Found them. Took a while. The last reports from the scouts were garbled.”

“Commander!” The sensor officer turned. He was a massive, bulky being. Four armed and an insectile frame with the head of a beetle and a set of nasty jaws.

“Sensors active! Detecting a vessel moving towards us!”

“Power readings?”

“Fusion. Based on readings, I’d say it’s cruiser class, mid-tier.”

“Mid-tier?” She raised a finger and stroked her chin, gazing thoughtfully at the planet. “Impressive, but it’s not going to be enough. Give me the image.”

“Yes, commander.”

The hologram split smoothly. One half showed the image of the world while the other zoomed in on a distant speck. It quickly resolved itself into the form of a ship. It was blunt, snub-nosed. A crude reflection of the Immaculance’s elegant design. It looked like a mountain that had learned to fly, with slabs of armour crudely stitched across its superstructure. Patches of burnt metal indicated previous weapon strikes.

“The work of the scouts, I presume,” Ashara muttered to herself.

She gazed at the ship, then the planet below. There was no doubt about it. This new species was bothersome. To the Xelluloid Empire, fusion technology was old hat. This species hadn’t even fully mastered it. Their control was clearly crude.

And yet with the damage they had done…

A new species represented a new thorn in the side of the empire just when it needed it least. There were far more important things to deal with. Rivals were rising, old enemies resurgent. The Xelluloid didn’t need the annoyance of an upstart new race that didn’t know the rules.

Ashara was an Areh’a. It was said that all of the full member species of the Empire were equals, but if that was the case, the Areh’a were more equal than others. They were intelligent, ruthless, empire-builders by nature. And in the social pyramid that was imperial life, Ashara and her kind were at the top.

She’d been told to deal with this situation. In any way she cared to.

“I’m receiving a communication request from the alien vessel. Shall I patch it through?”

“Is there a point? Lock target, Prime weapons. As soon as we’re in range, open fire.”

The Immaculance fired first. Fifty turrets spun, crude, proto-AI targeting systems locked and spat a hellstorm of blistering fire across the void of space. The tiny bolts lanced into the enemy vessel, but they were pinpricks. The aliens easily endured it.

Ashara had expected nothing less.


“No shield, but heavy armour. I have confirmed fusion power. Bringing us closer now.”

“Good,” Ashara said. “But be cautious. If they don’t have shields, all of that power is going to the weapons. Don’t assume their return fire will fall within the standard range. It’ll be stronger.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Bolster shields, continue fire with the turrets. They won’t do much, but it’ll keep them on their toes. Charge lance batteries.”

The enemy ship fired. A massive dorsal cannon spat something hard and fast, which sleeted through space like a spear! Ashara’s eyes widened fractionally, a moment later, a dozen alarms began to scream. The weapon hit them. Hard. Their shield held for a moment before bursting inwards in an explosion of light. The weapon ploughed into their starboard side, ripping a jagged wound into the Immaculance.

Then it detonated. The secondary explosion swept through them and for a moment, the ship seemed to convulse in agony.

“Report!” She snapped.

“Heavy damage to starboard side! Engines five and six offline. Power generators are fluctuating wildly in that area and damage control teams are dealing with the fire. Reporting raised radiation in that section. Crew loss unknown, but presumed high.”

“What in the nine worlds was that?”

“Analysis coming in now… it was a mass driver round.”

“A mass driver? You must be joking! Our shields should have taken that and laughed.”

“Mass Driver with unusual ammunition,” the officer said firmly. “On-board fusion plant, I think. It destabilised our shields and went straight through. After it hit us, it detonated.”

He looked up, examining the holographic display.

“I suppose that’s how they dealt with the scouts.”

Usually, Ashara didn’t allow free talk like that on her bridge. She preferred things to be professional, efficient. But in this case, she was willing to permit it.

“Enemy vessel approaching! More mass drivers are being primed! We have four, five, six more rounds incoming!”

Ashara tilted her head, a savage joy sprang up inside of her at the thought of a fight.

“Shield status?”

“Adapted. They won’t punch through again.”


“Coming into lance range within seconds, commander.”

“Good. They got a cheap shot, and I can see how they dealt with the scouts now. But if they think that’s enough to put a dreadnought down, they’re in for a very nasty surprise. Charge lance batteries, but hold fire until after their next round.”

“Aye, commander.”

If there was any confusion about her orders, they kept it to themselves. There was no logical reason they had to endure the enemy’s fire before striking back. In fact, doing so was a tactical mistake. It exposed them to the possibility of further damage if their shield adaptations were less than successful.

But Ashara knew better. Sometimes the important thing was to make a point.

Six more fusion-driven mass drivers screamed through the void. It was meant to be a kill shot, calibrated with lethal accuracy. But this time, the Immaculance was ready. Her shields flared against the impact. A hissing, snarling wall of swirling energy locked into place, barring their way. The ammunition - thick, heavy spheres of metal - glowed red hot, shedding trails of molten magma like blood.

Then the first one detonated. The second, the third. All of them went, a rippling chain of explosions which battered the Immaculance like a storm.

But this time, she held and as her sleek, elegant form swept past the new debris field, she returned fire with her own primary weapon.

The lance was the go-to weapon of any civilised society. A beam of condensed energy swept forward like a scalpel. Powered by the full capacity of a dreadnought class Xeluloid ship of war, there was very little that could stand in its way and live.

The first lance flickered into existence, catching the alien vessel across the stern. Its armour churned and melted, waves of red-hot liquid cascading from the wound only to flash-freeze in the cold of space. The lance punched through, running from one side of the ship to the other, impaling it on a blade of searing light.

But lances were fired in batteries. Not even had the first deadly blow landed than its fellows joined in. The enemy ship was bisected and impaled in a dozen places. Run through again and again. Her superstructure collapsed and her fusion plants began to go off one after the other. Rippling chains of fire raced across her sides as she was torn apart from within.

“And that,” Ashara said, “is why you can’t trade shields for armour and expect to win a fight.”

The enemy ship was gone. Reduced to a twisted, broken hull and a rapidly expanding field of scrap metal. The Immaculance ploughed through, moving towards the now helpless planet below.

Ashara considered. She could destroy it. Order bombardment and wipe it out. It was only a colony, not the main world. If she killed it, her superiors would probably consider her job done. It would be a harsh, painful lesson for the new species but from such things was wisdom gained.

She certainly could do that.

But it would be a waste of such a wonderfully inventive species.

“Commander?” her first officer asked, “orders?”

“Prepare landers,” she said. “I want the planet brought into compliance.”

“You mean we’re invading?”

“Oh yes,” she gave a small, subtle smile.

Behind the great and elegant shape of the ancient spacecraft, a dozen more small rifts appeared as her attendant fleet began to emerge. Eager to join the invasion.

What's next?

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