Chapter 20
"Are you sure this is the place?" Brit Crust asked aloud, keeping her voice to a sharp whisper in an effort to remain unnoticed.
She froze, hesitating before knocking at the imposing metal door in the side of the dank alley she stood in. Reaching into her pocket, Brit pulled out a scrap of paper and double checked the address written down on it. Aside from the distant city sounds that filtered in from the alley's mouth, only silence responded to Brit's question.
Reading the name stenciled onto the door Brit confirmed she had indeed reached her destination; "Phineas Mog: Electronics design and repair".
It had been quite an effort to track down and reach the second foremost robotics expert in Tremorton. Harder still to do it while on the run from the law. Brit had not slept or rested for even a moment since the incident the night before, and she was desperately weak and tired. If she couldn't find help soon, she would be completely beyond hope.
Still, Brit did not knock.
Stepping backwards, deeper into the shadows, Brit reached into the bundle that she carried on her back and pulled out a grotesque metallic skull. Anyone could see this skull was never meant to resemble a human skull however, it's eyes were too wide and slanted, it's mandible thin and sporting jagged fangs, and it lacked a nose altogether. Despite it's fearsome appearance, Brit Crust cradled it as delicately as a newborn baby, asking it "Vexus, how do you know we can trust him?"
"I suppose you'll just have to take that risk." came a disembodied voice from immediately above and behind Brit.
Brit gasped and spun around, nearly toppling herself over in the process. "Oh, don't be alarmed" said the kindly male voice that issued from a speaker mounted into the wall. As Brit gathered herself, she spotted several cameras mounted on thin robotic arms extending from their hiding places amidst the detritus of the alleyway. One such camera whirred as it moved in for a closer inspection, the lenses rotating to get a better focus on Brit's worried face.
The speaker crackled to life again, offering "I've been expecting you, Ms. Crust. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable." With that, the side entrance to Mog's lab unlocked itself and swung open, inviting Brit into the gloomy interior beyond.
After cautiously entering and scoping out Mog's lab, Brit was indeed impressed. The good doctor kept an orderly and efficient workspace amidst the outer chaos and decrepitude of the slums the lab was located in. Eagerly accepting Mog's offer of drinks and snacks, Brit reflected on her surroundings as she hungrily scarfed down her food. Despite all the advanced machinery visible, the workspace still seemed somehow empty, as though the building had been intended for more occupants then just the small, elderly Mog. Once her host was seated opposite her, Brit began.
"I've come to you for help. I need your expertise with robotics ...and your silence."
"Yes, I've seen the news reports. The media is making you out to be some kind of real-life movie teen-slasher. As soon as Skyway Patrol gets its head out of its bureaucratic ass, You won't have a safe place to hide in this entire state! What makes you think I can help you?" Mog asked her with a smug expression. He seemingly held all the cards right now, Brit's future entrusted entirely in his hands. The desperate teen girl knew that he could help her, the real question is if he would or not.
Time to show Mog what she brought to the table.
Dropping her satchel onto Mog's coffee table with a heavy thud, Brit pulled back the covering to reveal the discorporated metal skeleton that was once the proud Cluster queen.
"Is that...?" Mog gasped, reflexively leaning forward for a better look.
Brit pulled to pile of parts back away from him, clutching them defensively. His mouth practically watering at the prospect of learning the secrets of an advanced alien technology, Mog reached for his checkbook and hastily offered "How much do you want for it all? I don't have much to spare since my government contracts dried up, but I could probably sell some of my old surplus and..."
Brit cut him off sharply "She's not for sale."
Seeing Mog's confused look, Brit explained herself. "I want you to bring her back to life."
Carefully taking the collection of Vexus scraps from Brit and spreading them out over the table, Mog took a cursory inspection. "I don't think it's possible. There's simply not enough here to work with... I'd estimate maybe... of her original parts are either missing or too badly damaged to be of any use."
Brit frowned, displeased. "There must be something you can do. Vexus is the only chance I have of finally defeating Wakeman's horrible robot."
"XJ-9, you mean?" asked Mog, his interest suddenly piqued.
Brit sensed the shift in his attitude, and pressed for details, hoping to find an angle she could exploit. "That's right... 'Jenny', it calls itself. You know of it?"
Mog frowned deeply, issuing a gruff snort to show his contempt. "It is a long story, but... suffice it to say, XJ-9 is the reason that my son YK-9... Kenny... is missing. If your goal is to take down XJ-9, then... I'll see what I can do to help you."
Setting her head back, exhausted, Jenny mused aloud "I am so glad I don't have to do any superheroing today."
Setting her hands gingerly against the wound on her swollen, pregnant abdomen Jenny lightly touched the "bandages" that had been patched over the rents in her metallic skin. Laying at a 45 degree angle on her diagnostic table in her mother's lab, Jenny was functioning on her last power reserves, and desperately wanted to shut down so she could recharge.
Her mother, Nora Wakeman, wiped her hands clean with an oil-stained rag, sighed wearily, and prepared to deliver her news to Jenny. It had been an extremely tiring night for the both of them, as Dr. Wakeman had immediately gone to work on her injured daughter as soon as Silver Shell had flown them both back to Wakeman's lab. Poor Sheldon had fretted and fussed about, trying to find anything he could do to help, until Nora had been forced to send him home just to get him out of her hair. Since then Nora had not allowed herself a moment's rest until she knew she had done everything she could for her robotic daughter and her unborn grandchild. Now, hours later, the effort was clearly taking a heavy toll on the old woman's constitution. Regarding her creator with sympathy, Jenny gave her a brief hug as thanks and awaited her diagnosis.
"Well, the good news is that your baby is still functioning, and didn't sustain any real damage from the attack. However, you didn't fare as well; your reproductive assembly system took a heavy hit, and even worse is that your birthing cap is completely fused to your umbilical power junctions." Nora leaned back against the wall, throwing the rag against the ground in resignation.
"Uhhh..." was Jenny's only response, confused by all the technical jargon.
Expecting as much, Jenny's mother continued with her explanation "What that means for you is that the XJ1 will continue to be assembled, so long as your internal systems don't encounter an error as a result of the damage they sustained. When they do, your baby will be expelled from your system, whether it's ready for the outside world or not."
Just to confirm this, Jenny checked her internal clock and saw that the 'estimated time to completion' had indeed changed from a steady countdown to an 'unable to determine' message. "So... you can't just fix it?" she asked, already expecting a 'no' but wanting to hear her mother's explanation for it anyway.
"I could, but not without killing the XJ1 inside. If I try to access it directly, I'll cut off the power supply to the nanites that are building its brain and they're not sophisticated enough to be able to resume their task after an interruption. And, once the brain is finished being built, it needs to be constantly shielded from the outside world's various sources of electromagnetic interference. If I open you up at that point, your baby's mind could end up being programmed by the local radio station, or a solar flare."
Before Jenny could comment, Nora continued. "One last problem is that your birthing cap, as I said before, is fused. Normally at the end of the pregnancy your midsection would open, the XJ1 deposited gently onto the floor in front of you, and you would return to your former shape. Quick, easy, painless."
"But now... well, I haven't yet determined an alternative method of getting the baby out of you when it's ready. I'll need some more time to work out a solution. For now, Jenny dear, your mother desperately needs some sleep."
"Okay mom. And thanks." Jenny said, quite sleepy herself. Nora plugged Jenny into a wall outlet so she could recharge as she slept, and paused to kiss Jenny's forehead before pulling up a tarp for Jenny to use as a blanket, tucking her teenage daughter in for a long rest. Pausing at the lab's doorway to hit the light switch, Nora heard Jenny call out "Mom?"
"Yes dear?"
"Do... do you think I'll make a good mother?" Jenny asked timidly. The question had been sitting in the back of her mind for almost as long as she'd been pregnant. Only now, in light of the recent brush with death both she and her child experienced, Jenny could not ignore it any longer.
What kind of mother would endanger her baby so recklessly? Perhaps she really was too young still. She shouldn't be trusted with a baby if she couldn't even be counted on to keep herself safe.
Leaning against the door frame, Nora removed her eyeglasses and carefully cleaned them on the front of her lab coat. "I don't know Jenny. But, you've done an excellent job of being a superhero, and a teenager, neither of which are easy jobs. And being the mother of a young robot will be tougher then either of those... trust me, I know."
"But speaking as someone who's been in your shoes, and watched her creation develop from a blueprint into the young lady you are today... the rewards are worth the risk."
Jenny seemed to think about this, looking down at her belly, unsure.
"Goodnight sweetie." murmured Nora, turning off the lights as she left. Jenny closed her eyes, silently wondering if there were any machine Gods she could offer up a prayer to. Seconds later Jenny's sleep mode automatically engaged, sending her into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Shivering from the touch of the cold lab table against her bare skin, Brit forced herself to take calm, even breaths to combat the growing sense of dread she felt. Brit had never liked hospitals, surgery even less so, and being about to undergo an extensive, dangerous procedure in some out of the way "lab" was a scene out of a nightmare. But it was all for the good of her cause.
If Brit had to sacrifice her life so that Vexus could have another opportunity to kill XJ-9, then she would gladly give it. Clenching her jaw to cease the chattering of her teeth, Brit mentally readied herself by repeating to herself all that Mog had told her.
After a lengthy discussion of their options, Mog had moved the conversation to the recent advances he'd made in translating human and machine thought patterns. The innovations, he'd claimed, were inspired by a process Dr. Wakeman had originally proposed that would allow a human mind to be transferred wholesale into an electronic brain.
By "inspired by", Brit assumed he meant "stolen from". Phineas Mog had something of a reputation of riding Nora Wakeman's coattails to scientific achievement. Still, it was Brit's best hope of resurrecting Vexus, at least in part. Because a large part of Vexus' remains were missing, Mog would never be able to completely restore the fallen queen. Instead, they were forced to find a substitute, something that the Cluster technology could be built onto, and merged with. Thus providing an underlying support structure, the mortar that would hold Vexus' pieces together again. After some heated debate and a hefty bribe, Brit and Mog had settled on grafting Vexus' corpse onto a human subject.
Now, Brit awaited the surgery that would merge her with her new idol. Would she inherit Vexus' superhuman strength and abilities? Would she wear her parts like an armor? Or might Vexus' inert mind manage to overcome Brit's own will, and wear her body like a hand wears a glove? Brit glanced to her left, seeing the dead remains of the queen arranged like some anthropological study, ready to be grafted and implanted into her delicate flesh and bone body.
She hated feeling vulnerable like this, and it wasn't helped by her state of undress. To prepare for the surgery, Brit had purchased a trim black two-piece bikini that left very little to the imagination. It was one of the first purchases of clothing Brit had ever made where function was more important than fashion: to complete the surgery, Mog would need to cut into just about every inch of her flesh. Still, even after all she had been through, Brit maintained just enough pride to want to keep her privates hidden from the gaze of the old man.
"I want to remind you again that this procedure remains completely untested on human subjects." Mog warned, approaching Brit and fixing a breathing mask to her face. "So as a fail-safe I've created a killswitch program that will disable all the connections between your brain and the computer-controlled implants. I'll activate it at the first sign of system shock."
Fiddling with the knobs on a gas canister, the anesthesia began to flow into Brit's lungs as Mog continued speaking. "There is no telling exactly how your brain will react to the insertion of foreign thought patterns. You may not experience anything, or you may live Vexus' entire lifetime in the span of your sleep. Or it could be anything in between."
Feeling extremely lightheaded, Brit's last conscious thought was that her bikini line felt stubbly, and needed shaving, and that that probably meant the hair on her head was finally starting to come back as well. Darkness filler her vision, her eyelids fluttered shut, and Brit was out like a light.
Then, the dreams began.
In her mind, Brittany Crust was in ancient Egypt.
More to the point, she ruled Egypt as its Goddess/Queen. As Pharaoh.
It was a dream she had had several times before, a personal favorite. In her dream she controlled a vast empire, with countless slaves to appease her every whim, and the praises of the people accompanying every action she took. And unlike the real world, here Brit's beauty was eternal and infinite.
The dream of Egypt was not necessarily at all historically accurate... here, fact and fantasy mixed freely as Brittany wished them to. Here, gold bricked pyramids capped with pure jade dotted the landscape. The night sky was a rich purple, and no camels existed; only beautiful, Arabian stallions.
But something was different this time. Her empire was in shambles, her subjects had deserted her. Some strange plague had come to her lands, and wiped out all but herself. The soft white sands had turned a dull gray, which made the silver moonlight seem to bathe a sea of iron. Standing on a high balcony overlooking all that was hers, Brit was utterly alone, the last survivor of a dead kingdom.
Only the breeze and the moon kept her company. As she breathed the cool night air, a lone insect fluttered up and landed on her outstretched fingertip. Brit brought it to her face to see it better; a large green wasp, with unusually large front legs... or was it a golden mantis? She never had been very good at science.
A quick flick of her wrist sent it on it's way. Turning away from the desolation below, Brit walked into the inner chambers of her palace, which would someday be her tomb as it had been for all her ancestors. Perhaps in here she might find the guidance she craved.
Entering the burial chamber, Brit saw row upon row of jeweled sarcophagi standing erect against the walls, each containing a once mighty ruler, who had each contributed to the royal bloodline that had spawned her, Brittany, the last scion of the Crust dynasty. Only the dead occupied this space, but Brit still found their presence oddly comforting.
Stopping to inspect one at random, Brit ran her fingertips over the surface of the sarcophagus, feeling the smoothness of the sleek gray metal the ceremonial deathmask was carved from. Something about the sarcophagus bothered Brit, something was out of place... but what was it? She trailed her hand up past the face, to the golden antenna-like crown that held the sun-disk, the symbol of the Crust royal house, in place above the head. Was it the sarcophagus' hooked mandibles? Its sharp, slanted eyes? The two pairs of arms folded across the chest, holding a crook, a flail, a sword, and a scepter? The disturbing quality escaped Brit's attempt to pinpoint it when a shuffling sound came from behind her.
Turning, Brit's eyes searched the shadows for any sign of movement. "Who's there? Your Pharaoh demands that you show yourself!" commanded Brit, her voice strong and her posture fierce.
The shadows laughed.
"You are a haughty young thing, aren't you?" came the echoes of a deep female voice, followed by a vague buzzing sound, like the trill of a cicada.
"You would mock me, you who are no more substantial then a phantom in the darkness? Come speak to me when you have something important to say, instead of idle chatter" tittered Brit.
The dark voice came again, closer this time, "I like your venom, girl." the sound of insect wings intensified, until it seemed as though the room was filled by a host of unseen locusts, surrounding Brit.
The echoes came from above, saying "And I like your arrogance too."
Suddenly Brit felt something cold and sharp scrape the back of her head. Bolting, she was seized by strong, nimble hands and held in place, unable to turn to face her assailant. Soft, artificial lips hovered just beside Brit's ear, and whispered words so sweetly they dripped like honey into Brit's mind. "I can make us powerful again. Give us dominion over this entire pitiful planet. I'll rebuild the Cluster, with this world as the first stepping stone towards the glory that is rightfully ours."
"Vexus." Brit breathed, recognizing the robotic tyrant's presence.
"Yesss..." Vexus hissed, extending a slim, moist tongue into Brit's ear and stroking it against the sensitive, unprotected flesh there.
Still, Brittany Crust was not so easily manipulated. "What's in it for me, if I help you?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, Brit felt Vexus' hands change from a gentle massage to a sharp pain as the tips of her talons dug into Brit's shoulders.
Vexus did not like being resisted.
But even as the blood trickling down her back turned cold and dripped past the small of her back, Brit remained firm, sucking in a breath to keep from crying out. The claws pulled themselves from Brit's flesh, circled around to her front, and pulled her tightly into Vexus' embrace. The breath of the older female was on the back of Brit's neck now, and Brit felt the strange heat of Vexus' body radiate past the coldness of her armor, the odd combination of a machine's unyielding metal form with the supple give of a living being. The sensation of Vexus' wet tongue came again, this time lapping at Brit's superficial injuries, cleaning and devouring the spilled blood from her shoulders. The licks turned to kisses as they traveled from Brit's shoulder to her neck, Vexus' casual strength pushing Brit's head to the side until the dead queen's mouth rested atop Brit's jugular vein. A brief, light scraping of her fangs across Brit's throat sent a clear message.
"You would have power through me, as I said before. Through my strength you would have your revenge against XJ-9... you could return the humiliation you experienced a hundredfold." purred Vexus.
Brit could tell Vexus' face was directly against her cheek, but she refused to turn to look, instead keeping her gaze locked straight forward. "And you would be loved. A true queen is always loved by her subjects so long as she rules well." Lowering her gaze, Brit saw Vexus' hands on her chest, her left placed directly over her heart. With both hands, she reached for Vexus' and took hold, keeping it pressed tightly against her. Still, she refused to meet Vexus's eyes.
Then, Vexus leaned in impossibly closer, the droning buzz fading into silence, and Vexus' voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. With utmost seriousness, she promised "You'll never be alone again."
"What do you need me to do?" asked Brit, turning to face Vexus andchallenging her stare with her own, equally intense. Vexus grinned, her gleaming fangs expressing equal parts pleasure and menace.
Brit could see she had been correct in her earlier statement: only dead things occupied this room. Vexus, though whole, was a shadow of herself... her colors faded, her eyes dimmed.
"You must accept me as your true mother, forsaking all others. You have no family but me, for I am all the family you will ever require. You must accept me into your heart, your mind, your soul."
Almost before the sentence finished Brit had thrown her arms around Vexus' neck, holding on for dear life and softly, faintly weeping against Vexus' cold shoulder. A soul? What a trifle, a pittance to ask in exchange for true, never-ending love.
A whisper, almost a sob, escaped Brit's lips. "Mother." she said, and the pact was forever sealed.
"There there my child." comforted Vexus, patting Brit on the back and gently rocking her in her arms. The softly crying teen felt Vexus' slim fingers comb through her hair. Her long, black, flowing hair. Brit would once again be beautiful, and popular, and powerful.
"That's right," responded Vexus, seemingly reading Brit's thoughts, "and I will always be there to protect you."
"I love you mommy." said Brit, her tears drying and her sobs being choked back. A proud parental smile crossed Vexus' face as she wiped Brit's eyes clean.
"Mommy loves you too darling." she replied, expressing genuine emotion. "I know you've been sad, but Momma Vexus is here to make it all better now. Here," she said, reaching a hand up and peeling off the front piece of her chest plate, allowing her heavy breasts to spill out of her armor. "Just take a nice deep drink and I promise everything will be ok."
Without hesitation, Brit bent down and captured one dark nipple in her mouth. Really, it seemed to Brit like the most natural thing in the world to do, some long hidden instinct in her that took over without any conscious effort. Licking the nipple brought it to a full half inch erect, and a few moments of sucking was all it took to get the flow of milk started.
"Drinnnkkkk..." Vexus hissed, one hand delicately cradling Brit's head to her bosom, the other idly stroking her remaining nipple, bringing it to a similar hardness. As soon as Vexus' nectar entered Brit's mouth, she knew it was no natural mother's milk. This was a toxin, some potent chemical intended for a newborn robot to fuel its engines and grease its gears, not a product for human consumption. The rich fluid was both sweet and bitter at the same time, as though someone had melted black liquorice and toffee and motor oil together, kept it at body temperature inside Vexus' tits, and was now pouring it down Brit's throat. The dark mixture burned on it's way down to Brit's stomach, and almost instantly numbed her entire abdomen. She was drinking pure poison, Brit Crust knew, but she continued to suckle hungrily at Vexus' swollen teat, desperate for more of the toxic stuff. Some craving deep inside her forced her to keep going, swallowing more and more of the lethal breast milk, while Vexus cooed softly to her.
"You will be my favorite. You will not disappoint me as your siblings did." Vexus praised to her new daughter. Wetting her fingertip with warm milk that had dribbled from her unused tit, Vexus traced onto Brit's forehead the pattern of the tuning-fork antennas that all Cluster nobility wore as their symbol of office.
"You shall be my princess, and then, Queen." she mused to Brit, who seemed oblivious in the face of her overwhelming thirst. It took virtually no effort at all for Vexus to shred Brit's simple sheer clothing, letting the naked Tremortonian girl cling to her torso for warmth. Getting her own armor off took a bit more work, but by the time Brit had switched to feeding from her remaining breast, Vexus was equally naked. For a short while she simply enjoyed the feeling of their soft, naked bodies pressed tightly together, mother and daughter.
Eventually Brit lifted her head from Vexus' heaving breasts, her thirst finally quenched when she licked her black-stained lips clean. "I can't feel my legs" Brit complained weakly, Vexus catching her in her arms when her balance gave out.
"You won't need them, precious." soothed Vexus, taking Brit's hand in hers and leading it downward, "Feel this instead." As her palm touched the soft lips of Vexus' womanhood, Brit found her fingers gaining a life of their own, crawling over and stroking Vexus' hot center. Spreading apart the wet lips Brit found the entrance to Vexus' vagina, and tentatively pushed a finger inside.
"That's good... deeper, don't be afraid... finger-fuck mommy... mmmm" Vexus sighed happily.
Encouraged, Brit slipped more of her fingers into Vexus' now dripping pussy. By working them back and forth, Brit found she could gradually work more and more of her hand inside her adoptive mother's tight cunt, until she slipped her entire slender hand in and pushed in up to the wrist... and felt something push back.
Hearing Vexus moan, Brit grasped the unknown object in her palm, and felt it give slack when she pulled on it. Withdrawing her hand, Brit pulled forth a long, hose-like appendage about as wide around as a quarter. Unsure quite what to make of this, Brit noted that the tube was warm to the touch, glistened with Vexus' juices, and seemed to throb in time to her own heartbeat. Taking a guess she raised the silvery phallic object to her groin, and rubbed its tip against her hairless pussy lips to prepare herself to accept it into her.
"Ah ah, plenty of time for that later. This goes here..." guided Vexus, taking the metal tube from Brit and raising it to the teenager's navel, nuzzling the rounded end of it against Brit's taught stomach.
"Just to warn you, it'll hurt a bit when I pop your cherry." advised Vexus, thoroughly confusing Brit.
The rounded tip of the hose extended a pointed probe into Brit's navel, and in the midst of asking what Vexus was talking about, Brit shrieked as the dead queen suddenly thrust the point forward, puncturing through her skin and driving the metal appendage into Brit's midsection.
"Ahh..hhcck..." Brit choked, both hands grasping the tube that extended from her stab wound. "W-what are you doing to me?" Inside her, the piercing head umbrellaed out into a series of barbs that grasped and cut and rearranged Brit's internal organs, making her cry out in intense pain and dropping the poor girl to her knees in front of Vexus.
"Hush, my darling." Vexus soothed, cradling Brit's face against her pubic mound and the tentacle that snaked out of her wet cunt below. " ...I'm only killing you. Everything will be alright, just trust me." And somehow, despite the situation, Brit did trust her. She loved her, even as Vexus' milk poisoned ever cell it seeped into and her umbilical cord siphon away the last remaining vitality from Brit's dying body. With all the remaining strength in her, Brit raised her lips to Vexus' womanhood and gave it a wet kiss, weakly lapping at the queen's aroused sex. Vexus shivered with pleasure, a tingle humming through her pussy and releasing a fresh wave of her cunt cream onto Brit's eager tongue.
"Mmmm, such a little clit-pleaser you are." Vexus praised, scooping Brit up in her arms and holding her aloft. Brit was completely immobilized now; in the unreality of the dream, she knew without looking that her limbs had withered and shrunk to tiny, useless things, her entire body now about the size of a football. "Mommy's very proud of you little one. I see vast things in your future. You shall be a great warrior. A destroyer of worlds."
Brit smiled, and gurgled happily. A tug from her umbilical cord made her wince, and Vexus sat down with her back against the sarcophagus. "It's time to finish this, Brittany." said Vexus in a dark, sing-song voice.
Opening her legs spread-eagled, Vexus took deep measured breaths and closed her eyes, readying herself for some great task. Between her outspread legs, Brit could see the shiny silver cord retracting into the gaping, hungry vagina that swallowed up inch after inch of the metal tentacle, drawing Brit's squirming form inexorably toward it. With one hand Vexus stretched the inner lips of her pussy as wide apart as she could manage, and with the other she worked Brit's tiny, dwarfed feet and legs into her vagina. Moments later Brit felt the first pull from the tight, slick walls of Vexus's birth canal as the queen's inner muscles contracted. The lips of Vexus' snatch advanced to Brit's waist, and Vexus herself helped Brit along by pushing down on her shoulders, forcing more and more of the dying girl up her ravenous pussy.
By the time Brit was engulfed up to her neck, she began to notice that Vexus breathing had quickened and intensified to a labored pace. Indeed, she could feel the pulsing and thrumming of the Cluster monarch's inner machines as they worked to accommodate their new occupant, through the inner membranes of Vexus' body. If she guessed right, it seemed this reversed birth was causing Vexus as much pleasure as a typical birth would cause a woman pain. Cracking open a single eye just enough to keep it free from Vexus' spilling girl-cum, she looked up and saw that Vexus was furiously masturbating her painfully erect clitoris. Her efforts to rub off an orgasm seeming to further propel Brit on her way, as each time a shudder of pleasure blossomed in her privates, a ripple of movement would sweep through her vaginal muscles, squeezing and pulling Brit deeper inside. Finally, with the crown of Brit's head stretching Vexus' cunt to it's limit, the dead queen was on the brink of her climax. Her inner lips spasmed around Brit's tender scalp, and the ragged moans Vexus released with each breath left little doubt she was about to reach a powerful orgasm. Her face submerged, Brit pushed her tongue out against the throbbing inner surface of the queen's snatch, and it was all she could do to manage a few meager strokes with her tiny pink tongue. It was all the push Vexus needed.
"AAAuuuuuuhhhhhhnnnnn..." Vexus howled, her pussy clenching down and slurping up the last remaining portion of her new baby into her body. "A-huh, a-huh, a-hunnnhhh..." Vexus heaved, aftershocks of her orgasm making her body quake. With some difficulty she peered past her suddenly swollen belly to the spot between her legs, where the puddle of warm cum that drooled from her agape pussy served as the only remains of Brittany Crust.
Vexus giggled like a little girl, stroking her hands over her now huge stomach, pregnant with Brit's corpse. It was done. She had the daughter she always wanted, securely tucked away in her womb, as dead as her new mother was.
Here, Brit's dream became murky and indistinct. She felt blind, deaf and submerged in a hot, claustrophobic environment.
As her mind groped for sensation, for meaning, the words "dissolved" and "digested" came to mind, and faded just as quickly.
A memory of tearing out of a chrome cocoon, to emerge new and wet into an unsuspecting world, of stretching out to dry her wings and revel in the beauty of her new body. She remembered the bitter taste of having one's family betray you, and promised it would never happen again.
Foreign memories of worlds circling stars that humans had yet to name seemed clearer and more natural to Brit then the memories of her own childhood. A nagging thought of an appointment that Brit had made to attend the beetle-pipe recital on Cluster-6 confused her; she knew that her general Smytus would be crushed if Brit Crust did not make at least a token appearance, but why should a Cluster general care whether or not a human teenager listened to his music?
Brit made a mental note to have her fangs sharpened when she woke up... it had been a few weeks since she had last gone to the salon, and she feared they might be getting dull.
Amidst the swirling chaos of her dreams and half-thoughts, Brit came to realize the answer to her earlier question: She had subsumed Vexus into herself, on every level.
Matter and energy could not be created nor destroyed... but could souls? Brittany Crust now believed so. Where there had been two before, now there was but one. Brittany had become something that was less then the sum of its parts. She was the Great Dissolver. The living embodiment of Anti-Motherhood.
Something deep inside Brit, in the blackest part of her soul, stirred to life.
And lo, I am become Death, Destroyer of Worlds!
The alien presence in Brit's soul awoke, took root, spread through her being to every outermost tip.
Ia! Vexus fhtagn!
Something horrible, something that was neither Brit nor Vexus but some unholy amalgam of the two, reared up its mighty head in defiance of all that was good and right in the world, and screamed.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!"
Brit's eyes shot wide open, the sound of her own fearful shriek having jolted her from her sleep. Was this the real world now? Uncurling herself from a fetal position, Brit sat up on the floor and inspected her surroundings.
She could still feel her pulse racing, making a rushing noise in her ears and a thumping in her chest. The lights in the room seemed overly bright, the colors blurred and muted. She was in Phineas Mog's lab, but everything was a mess; tables and equipment was overturned, computer monitors were smashed to pieces, papers and documents were strewn everywhere. What was going on?
As Brit pulled herself to her feet she felt a stabbing pain set deep in her navel, and fears buried in her subconscious made her fear to look down. Her midsection, just below the rib, was sleek black metal down to her hips, which were framed with a golden-colored metal stretching down the length of her legs and carried her weight as she stood, requiring zero effort on her part. How deep did these robotic parts go? Brit grasped her chest, experiencing a moment of panic when she felt cold metal instead of her familiar perky young tits. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when her searching hands slipped up underneath her breastplate and found her warm human flesh where it was supposed to be, and laid her hand over her thumping heart.
When the thump of her heart was answered by a corresponding Sliishh from two inches down and three over to the right side of her ribcage, Brit withdrew her hands, disturbed.
A flash of realization sent Brit's investigation straight between her legs, pulling aside her bikini bottoms to find her lightly fuzzed pussy had remained just as she'd left it, untouched by the metal insertions that had been implanted everywhere else. "Phewph" Brit said aloud, "That's a relief. I didn't want to have to use a drip pan for a maxi-pad the rest of my life."
All across her body, Brit checked and re-checked herself, usually finding the same results: she was largely encased in Vexus' outer shell, but underneath there was still flesh... and underneath that, more machine, anchored to Brit's skeleton to simultaneously draw and lend support to her still slender, feminine frame. About the only things she couldn't look at were her upper back and her own head, So Brit set about combing the area for a mirror.
Fortunately the rest of Mog's household wasn't in as poor a condition as the lab was. Whatever had caused the destruction there had apparently spared Mog's living quarters. Still, the elderly scientist himself was yet to be seen. Again, Brit found herself asking what was going on?
An electronic desk calendar said the day was... December 8th?! How long had she been unconscious? Spotting the central computer in the living room that acted both as Mog's main console and videophone, Brit approached and attempted to gain access. Perhaps there was a message left for her, or something recorded by Mog's ubiquitous cameras. Predictably, it prompted her for a password. "Kenny" she spoke aloud as she typed. Incorrect. "YK9?" Brit guessed. Incorrect again. Brit lifted her gaze and let her eyes stroll the room, looking for clues as her mind skimmed through other ideas for possible passwords, and as she did she failed to notice her right hand rapidly tapping keys.
Spotting a mirror hanging from a wall nearby, Brit momentarily forgot all about her task. She... she was... beautiful.
She had hair again! Long, flowing hair of jade and gold, one moment appearing as luscious locks of blond and green, the next moment solidifying into a royal headdress, the appointments of a queen.
She had transcended earthly beauty and become a creature of emerald and brass, a living jewel.
She struck a pose for the mirror, putting her left hand behind her head and arching her back to thrust out her tight little bum... and spotted her wings, folded behind her back like the gossamer cape. Overjoyed, Brit let loose a shriek of pure bliss when she discovered that she could make the wings flutter when she wanted, even spread out fully behind her. In time, she knew, she would fly. For now, she would try to find some clue as to this-
Glancing back to the computer terminal, Brit was interrupted in mid-thought to see that while she'd been admiring her new form, her computer-enhanced brain and her right hand had been very busy. Without any direction from her, her hand typed furiously at the keyboard, and before her eyes attempted "Zorrl", "Zorrm", "Zorrn" and finally "Zorro", the last attempt unlocking the uncooperative computer. Cracking the knuckles on her right hand by flexing her fist, yet not feeling at all tired by the tremendous effort just performed, Brit regarded her digits with amused awe.
"Handy." she commented and immediately burst into a fit of high-pitched laughter at her pun.
Everything seemed funny to her right now, as though she were drunk. An idle thought flitted through her mind, and without warning her metal-trimmed fingers extended inch-long deadly talons. She would look forward to trying those out. A second mental shrug returned her claws to their sheaths, and Brit turned to the computer monitor in search of more information.
Hmm. There was the videophone files... once opened, Brittany scanned through the various options, eventually finding "archive". Here we are, a log of recent messages. The most recent was dated two days ago, which Brit set to playback. Instantly, the face of young robot boy who bore a passing resemblance to Jenny appeared, and the message proceeded:
"Hi Dad, it's me, Kenny. I know you're probably worried sick about me, and I'm really sorry not to have called until now. But I'm fine, really. Better then fine, even. It's all been pretty busy, and I've been doing everything I can to help Nexus... that's this girl I met... and her friends work out this civil war thing they've got going on in the Cluster. This is the first real breather we've gotten, but things seem to be turning around for us, so I'm sure I'll have more time to call you in the future. There's so much to that's happened! You wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen out here; there are entire planets populated by nothing but robots like me! I can't wait to come back to Earth and tell you all about it. But, for now I'm still needed out here. I knew you'd be upset with me for just taking off like this, but... I'm doing a lot of good out here Pop. If you could see me, I know you'd be proud.
"Oh, and one other thing: could you do me a favor and let XJ-9 know that I'm ok? I know she didn't really want me to stay out here in deep space all by myself, but just tell her not to worry about me, I've made a lot of new friends in the Cluster. Anyway, I'll go into more detail next letter home. Love ya Pop! Peace out!"
That didn't bode well for her. Kenny's disappearance, blamed on Jenny, had been Mog's chief motivation to help Brit in her plans for revenge. Would he try to back out, kill the procedure before it could be completed? Hmm, that recording was received two days ago... Brit accessed the security monitor logs, scanning through the previous two days worth of video footage of the lab where she had been resting.
Resting... resting... Mog came in to check her vital signs... resting... wait, there! Brit slowed the scan to a normal-speed playback, entering mid-recording of ... herself, trashing the lab! As she watched, the audio came through, but it was nothing intelligible. The Brittany Crust in the video was a beast of pure instinct, growling and roaring like an animal, randomly attacking inanimate objects and hurling them around the room.
What had provoked this? Rewinding the tape further back, Brit found the point when Mog first entered the lab...
...carrying the killswitch program. Ahh, there's the answer. As Mog stepped closer and attempted to initiate the program, Brit's body surged to life, knocking him away.
Brit remembered none of this... had Vexus been controlling her actions, defending her?
Shutting off the video, Brit decided she had seen enough. Mog had fled, but couldn't go to the authorities because of the part he had played in Brit's transformation.
Bah, Brit didn't really care where the old man went. She had what she needed from him.
But, over a month had passed since she'd last seen Tremorton. A lot had surely changed, and there was much to do.
And now she had the power to do it.
Stepping out the front door into the cool dark night, Brit took a deep breath and flexed her new wings, testing their strength with a few cursory beats. Then with one mighty heave of her machine-enhanced thighs Brit leaped into the sky, buzzing Vexus' wings... her wings... and soared off to seek her revenge.
Brit's cackling laughter rang out through the night.
This, she thought, will be easy.