Valentine's Breaking - Chapter I. (Patreon)
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Author's Note: This is an independent story based on the Zeta Sector's universe. Prior reading of the base material is not required. I've decided to add these stories to my Patreon, as not every idea could be expressed to it's complete extent through the twine format, yet these stories could serve as an excellent tool to expand on the core concept. As in the form of Aarla's Descent, I will share the first five chapters at the start. The rest of the story will be shared later on, so nobody gets left out from the fun :)
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For the Stars, you think to yourself, as one by one you look over the fleet’s vessels, the FTL drives on their aft's burning like flairs in the night sky. It was about four hours ago when you’ve picked up the signs of a possible incursion into the Neutral Zone, the region between your faction, the UCS, and the Coalition, another human faction, who are expansionist, and see armed conflict as the cornerstone of their existence.
Needless to say, a fleet was dispatched right away, consisting of three UCS cruisers, the Olympus, the Ares, and the Odyssey, alongside with eleven escort frigates. The Odyssey being your vessel, the Ares the leader, commanded by Admiral Dewey, and the Olympus another escort. You have to admit, in your heart, you always wanted to be an admiral. You feel like you deserve it, despite that you are only twenty-seven years old, and you already have command of a cruiser. Yes: Admiral Jennifer Valentine. It sounds just right in your head.
"They are closing in." Ensign Lawrence’s voice snaps you back to the present. It might have been a possible incursion that you set out to investigate. But when you arrived, there was nothing. Suspicious of a trap, Admiral Dewey ordered a jump back UCS space. But the moment the jump would have commenced, every vessel had their FTL drives blown up. The explosions didn’t compromise the ships' structural integrity. But it meant that Admiral Dewey’s suspicion was correct, and now you were sitting ducks for your attackers.
It took only a minute, and your sensors could already pick up a Coalition fleet heading towards you: in the form of five assault carriers, eight cruisers, thirty-eight escort frigates, and whatever the hell else they wanted to bring to the party. You have to admit: Against such a force, victory is impossible. Yet somebody, somehow, needs to make it back alive. Not because of the ambush. Even if everybody dies here, it will be pretty damn simple for the UCS to conclude what happened. It is because of the FTL drives. Primarily the way the enemy disabled them.
The UCS doesn’t have the technology to blow up an FTL drive without crude intervention. But neither does the Coalition. It is only the corporations of the Zeta Sector who have this technology. Another human faction the UCS has it’s quarrels with. And if the two of them decided to team up in order to kick the UCS out of Sol, you have a serious problem on your hands. The Coalition would be trouble enough to deal with due to their massive fleets. And the zetans would be a pain also because of their advanced technology. But the two of them? At the same time? With the UCS caught off guard when the assault commences? They will be drinking champagne in New London by the week’s end.
So yes. Somebody, somehow, by some means needs to get back. Admiral Dewey’s plan is to launch boarding craft simultaneously to a number of enemy frigates that are randomly selected by the systems, and hope that you could jump at least one of them to friendly space before the enemy blows it to pieces. But if you want to make it happen, everyone will have to do their best. And that means that you will have to stay on the bridge, your command skills utilized to their best extent in order to give enough time for the boarding craft to achieve their objectives. But this means that you will have to die a hero’s death. A price that you always knew you might have to pay. Yet you never truly expected it to happen.
"They are… here," you can hear Ensign Lawrence gasp. For a moment, you are unsure what caused his reaction, but then you can see it: a Coalition assault carrier that FTL’d in the middle of your formation. Her guns at the top already blazing, you can see an UCS frigate, the Dalmatia, blown into two distinct pieces. Then another frigate follows, you are unsure of the name, this time below the giant, blown apart by the eight guns the behemoth has at the bottom of her hull. In parallel, you can see the hangars on the assault carrier’s side open, and dozens of strike craft emerge, your fleet unprepared to face them in such short notice.
"Open fire!" Desperate, you give the order, as you can see other Coalition vessels appear among your ranks. But its strange. You do not see any frigates, or any smaller FTL capable vessels. And that’s when it finally clicks: the bastards were one step ahead of you the whole time. And they decided to hold the smaller ships back so you couldn't board them. That means you have no choice but to take one of their larger vessels. A task that might sound impossible. But you have to try regardless.
"Open a channel to Admiral Dewey," you turn to Lawrence. But from the corner of your eyes, you can see another thing: one of the Coalition cruisers FTL’d next to the Ares, Admiral Dewey’s flagship. And now it rams itself into the vessel, both of them to perish in fire in the following seconds.
"New plan: Select one of the enemy cruisers at your convenience, and launch the boarding craft." You turn back to Lawrence, still determined. However his face looks strange to you. As if he was at the brink of death.
"Enemy cruiser on collision course!" he says finally. And you too feel yourself as a husk when you hear it. You turn your gaze to the sensor's screen, and you can already see it: another cruiser that just arrived from FTL, headed right for you.
"Evasive maneuvers!" you order. But by that time it is too late.
The cruiser slams itself into your vessel. The moment of the impact you can feel your body flung from the floor beneath you – unlike most captains in the UCS, you detest the idea of strapping yourself into your chair, or even sitting for the matter –, and your head collides to the bridge’s wall. Admiral Jennifer Valentine. Sounds just about right, you think to yourself, and the entire world goes dark around you the next second.
When you wake up, your head hurts like hell. Your hand shaking, you touch your scalp with your fingers, and you can feel a layer of clotted blood on your skin. You open your eyes, and you look around the bridge. The emergency lights barely work, but you can see enough to determine your surroundings. There is smoke everywhere and there are torn cables around you. To your shock, you can see Lawrence's body in front of you, with a burnt hole from a plasma gun in his chest. But the plasma is strange to you. Such weapons are only used by the zetans.
You look over the other corpses. And they too bear the marks of plasma weapons. You also note that some of the staff is missing. But that too serves to reinforce your theory: you are now up against the zetans, and not the Coalition. The biggest problem is: it all makes perfect sense. The zetans showed the Coalition how to overload FTL drives from a distance, and in return the Coalition gave the zetans the coordinates. It is one of the shocking factors you’ve seen growing up: the zetans view slavery as convenient. And therefore whenever there is a space battle, the crews of the winning party board the defeated ships, kill everyone who dares to raise a weapon, and sell the rest on the slave market. The women are left as they are, but sometimes their beauty is enhanced. The men are feminized, sometimes completely, but sometimes the process is partial. Either way: they have to live the rest of their lives in slavery. Just like those of your crew who chose to surrender, unaware what awaits them.
The most shocking thing is that the two factions didn’t really have to team up in order to orchestrate this. All was needed to have one zetan corporation line up for the idea of making some quick telers, and they gave the FTL tech to the Coalition in order to take a few hundred slaves. It might not have been a wise decision if you look at zetan interests as a whole. But people are people. And you’d seen worse.
You take your weapon from it's holster. But your hand is shaking too much, so you have to use the other one. It might not be ideal for shooting. But you play the cards you are dealt. With small steps, your legs also shaking, you head to the exit. Your head spinning, you lean out, but there is nothing, so you head out to the corridors. By this time, you already know that you have a brain injury. In fact, your brain is probably getting more inflamed by the hour, which would eventually lead to you losing consciousness. And of course death. But again: you play the cards you are dealt.
If you manage to get to one of the zetan boarding craft, it might have an FTL drive. If not, you could still hijack one of their frigates, and use it to get back to UCS space. Chances are they will not be able to save you, and you will be dead by the day's end. But at least you would be able to tell the tale. And that means your sacrifice will be worth it.
"You sure the captain is dead?" you hear the question from the adjacent corridor. And you tense.
You step close to the corridor's wall, your back held against the frame, and you get your weapon at the ready. Judging by their footsteps, they will be pass the T shaped junction where you are at in the following seconds. An excellent opportunity to ambush them.
"She was not breathing for sure," you hear the answer.
"It’s a shame. Chick was hot as a nova," he says.
As the steps grow louder, you get ready. Then you can see them pass you: two average looking men wearing yellow uniforms. Such sight might not tell much to you at the first glance. But their looks are too sophisticated for them to be pirates. Plus the uniforms are neither used by the UCS or the Coalition. Which means that your theory is correct.
You jump out of cover, ready to fire. However your legs give out due to your brain injury, and you fall face-flat on the floor.
"Fuck!" you say aloud. The men stop, and they turn towards you.
"She was not breathing for sure my ass," one of the men says, as he steps close to you, and rips your gun out of your hand.
"Let me go!" you gasp, but then a syringe is pushed in your neck, it’s contents inserted in your veins before you could do anything.
"This will make sure you don’t die on us," the man says, and you tense like a log, your eyes wide open, as you realize what was injected in you. It is the famous zetan slave serum, the one they use to make the slaves hyper-aroused at all times, but also to repair any physical damage the constant bondage and torment would cause. You heard the zetans use nanobots to achieve this task. But the fact behind the means just doesn’t matter.
What does matter is that your brain injury will be fixed, and when tomorrow comes, you will be still among the living. You will be reduced to a bimbo, begging for the crew of the zetan vessel to keep fucking your bound form. But you will still have your life. And who knows? Perhaps if your will is strong enough, you could turn the situation around, and escape, or even hijack their vessel. That way the UCS could still be saved, then you could still live out the rest of your life. In whatever form the nanobots might allow.
"Oh, the captain will be very happy when he sees you," the man says as your wrists are cuffed behind you. You also get a fist sized ballgag in your mouth and a metal collar around your neck that has a chain leash at your arm’s length.
"Very happy," the man adds, once you are stood up, and marched after the pair. By now you can already feel the nanobots’ effect. As you are getting more aroused with each step. But at the end of the day, you will still have your chance. And that is all that matters.