John and Alyssa entered the passenger cabin, almost 14 hours to the dot after Calara had swallowed one of John's loads out of a kitchen pot. The young Second Lieutenant had agreed to become John's first Thrall (Alyssa was his Matriarch, different thing entirely) in exchange for him using his psychic powers to heal her mental trauma from the pirate ambush on her ship.
John had already forged the Connection between himself and Calara, binding her Astral body to his for the length of her natural life. While his semen and the psychic catalyst it was laced with was still in her system, John had rolled up his eldritch sleeves and gotten to work. He'd isolated the memories of the pirate attack in Calara's mind and carefully pruned every emotional connection they had to the rest of the Latina's psyche.
It would have been simpler to just erase the memories entirely, but that might be too suspicious if Calara couldn't report to her superiors anything and claimed total amnesia. So John did the next best thing, and made it so the memories had zero emotional weight. In theory, Calara would remember the whole event like a scene out of a movie, something she'd witnessed but had absolutely no impact on her mind or heart long-term.
After a couple hours of delicate psychic tampering with Calara's brain, John was satisfied he'd done the best he could. Which still left Calara to sleep off her first dose for most of the day. John had returned to his usual routine of maintenance chores and telepathically conversing with Alyssa, keeping his blonde Matriarch well-fed at lunch and again at dinner.
Calara having gotten her dose of John's fluids before 0700, it was coming up on 2100 when John and Alyssa came to check on whether the Latina was awake yet. John came bearing a tall glass of water; he'd observed that every woman who woke from first exposure to his spunk did so in a dehydrated state.
Right on time, Calara began to stir around the 14-hour mark from when she'd first swallowed John's seed. She blinked and yawned, smacking her lips. "Thirsty," she muttered to herself.
Alyssa reached over to help move Calara into a sitting position, mindful of her still-broken ribs. John made sure he had Calara's attention, then offered the glass of water wordlessly. She took it eagerly and gulped it down rather fast. With a contented sigh, she offered the empty glass back to John. "Thank you, John," she said.
"How are you feeling?" John asked carefully, hoping he'd been successful.
"Parts of me are in pain, but the rest are throwing a fiesta," Calara said, eyes widening as she took stock of herself. "My nose and side still hurt, but even that's a bit less than this morning. Otherwise, I'm full of energy. Like I had the best night's sleep in the universe. And the memories… they don't hurt anymore! They just don't! How is that possible?!"
"A helpful Progenitor hacked your brain, remember?" Alyssa pointed out with a chuckle. "John keeps his word. He said he'd cure your mental trauma. So he did. Satisfied?"
"I just feel so… detached from what happened. Like I've had years and years for the scars to fade and process everything," Calara breathed in awe. "I can remember getting whipped. I remember fighting the Largath. I remember every detail. And yet I don't want to cry or scream or anything. I'm making myself sad because I think I should be sad, but the memories themselves… they're 'clean'. It's strange, but I'm not complaining!"
"Well, I'm happy I could help," John told the second woman who'd knowingly joined his psychic network. "Now, do you remember the strings that were attached to this deal?"
"I'm your Thrall now, in other words a psychic battery for you to tap at a moment's notice. I'm also probably not going to transform to look like Alyssa, but I've still most likely picked up the imprint on my first sexual partner. And supposedly, Alyssa can talk to me via Telepathy but it's strictly one-way," Calara rattled off what she remembered from John's warning earlier that day.
*Testing, one two,* Alyssa projected across her link to Calara, separate and distinct from the link she shared with John.
The Latina jumped. "I heard that. Only it wasn't with my ears. Freaky," Calara commented. "Is this how the Ashanath talk to each other?"
"I would assume so, they rely on Telepathy. Though we can't be sure Telepathy isn't different between different species. The version I have and gave to Alyssa and now you might not be the same as what the Grays have," John answered as best he could.
"I promise not to chatter your ear off at all hours of the day. We can rely on Terran comms if we ever want to keep in touch and chat. I'll only use Telepathy to keep you up to date on anything that can't be said over an open call or to warn you we're about to tap you for power," Alyssa informed Calara.
"On that note, we should exchange comm codes. The whole 'Progenitor-Matriarch-Thrall' thing aside, you guys saved my life. I'd like to maintain a relationship with you guys," Calara said with the first smile John or Alyssa had seen from her since they'd met.
It turned out that Calara's smartphone had been looted by the pirates and wasn't in the pocket of her fatigues where she'd left it. But she still remembered her personal code and rattled it off for John to copy into his own device's memory. He sent a test text to Calara's account so she'd have his own code on record. Calara expressed a desire to eat, so John went to fetch more water and a couple protein bars. The three of them ended up conversing for a couple hours, Calara forming a fast bond of friendship with both her rescuers based on respect, gratitude, and shared interests. Finally, it was John who had to cut the talk short when Alyssa yawned, it having neared their usual bedtime.
Wishing Calara a peaceful night, John and Alyssa went to their own cabin. Alyssa stripped out of the body-sleeve she'd been primarily wearing when it was necessary for her to not be naked and threw it in the hamper. She crawled into bed and waited patiently for her man to join her. John, once nude himself, sat down at the edge of the bed. He took a moment to focus and crafted his usual Astral invisibility cloak to ward against any accidental Spirit-Walks and assaults by Fallen Progenitors or worse the Devourer. Then he lay down on the bed and curled an arm around Alyssa as she snuggled into his side.
*Night, honey,* John sent directly into her mind via their always-on, always-open telepathic link.
*Night, handsome,* she returned, already half-asleep in the safety of John's embrace.
John closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing himself to sink into slumber.
Rather than a comforting blank darkness that would hold him until his alarm in the morning, John found himself floating in a chaotic void that violated every 'rule' he could think of. Up was also down, black was also white, near was also far, the mind buckled trying to process the sheer paradox of this realm. And a bank of icy mist was just before him, seeming to be blindly reaching out tendrils to try and find him.
John, realizing he had somehow once again Spirit-Walked in his sleep, retreated as far back as he could from the mists where the Devourer and its slaves resided. Even as he kept an eye on the grasping mists to make sure he remained beyond their reach, he pondered this phenomenon. He hadn't had another 'dream' like this since the night after he'd recruited Alyssa. And now it had happened again… the night after he'd recruited Calara.
Realizing the link, John recognized that these involuntary trips to the Astral Plane seemed to be triggered whenever he made a new Connection. Still, with his enchanted cloak of hexagons, he was as safe as possible while traversing the Astral. Focusing, he tried to force himself awake, to return to his physical body in the Material Plane. He felt slight resistance, and then he was gasping awake as he forced his eyes open, his soul once more encased in his flesh and blood body.
Alyssa stirred, having only been asleep around 15 minutes and disturbed by John's turbulent thoughts and emotions. Blinking awake, she reached up to cup John's cheek. *John, what's wrong?*
*Remember that dream I had the first night? I just had another one,* John explained, even as he worked to calm himself down from the shock of the unexpected experience.
Alyssa wasn't dumb. In fact, John had enhanced her to an IQ over 200 if it ever got properly measured. She realized this wasn't a coincidence. *You get dragged into the Astral the next time you fall asleep after making a Connection! But why?*
*I'm not sure,* John admitted. *Either I'm doing it subconsciously for some reason, or the Devourer can 'detect' whenever I make a Connection and then tries its best to drag me into a sub-plane as soon as I'm 'vulnerable' in sleep. Or maybe there's a third explanation I can't think of. 'Why' might not be as important as how to deal with it, though.*
*Your Kyth'faren spirit shield thing seems to be working pretty well,* Alyssa pointed out. *Still, the best defense is a good offense. Maybe next time you should show those Fallen Progenitors who's boss and scare them off from trying to find you.*
*Great idea, but a bit ahead of ourselves, honey,* John gave a rueful chuckle. *Fallen Progenitors retain all the power they had at the moment of their deaths. Usually when they'd been ruling a Thrall Empire for centuries if not millennia and training just as long for psychic duels with other Progenitors. I have a grand total of two women in my network. We're a long way off from me being in the right weight class to take the fight to them. For now, playing hide-and-seek with my invisibility cloak is probably for the best.*
*You're right. It just sticks in my craw, the idea of you running away instead of standing to fight,* Alyssa sighed.
*Well, them's the breaks. When I'm ready to go to war in the spirit world, you'll be the first to know,* John promised. *Now, let's go back to sleep. I didn't have a repeat nightmare the last time, so I'm probably safe to sleep now.*
*Might as well keep the cloak up, just in case,* Alyssa pointed out.
John agreed, made sure the cloak was still active, then did his best to slip back to sleep alongside Alyssa.
The next thing John was aware of was the beeping of the alarm clock, so he considered his working theory accurate. He felt movement by his side, then the beeping stopped. A few seconds later, a warm weight settled between his legs and he felt the silky softness of Alyssa's hair brush his hips just as a warm, wet mouth wrapped around his morning wood.
*This is the life,* John thought dreamily, reaching down to cup Alyssa's head and provide gentle encouragement as she did her best to milk his balls for her usual breakfast.
*You're telling me,* Alyssa replied, even with her mouth and throat rather occupied. *I even cum when you do, our bond is so strong. Progenitor blowjobs, fun for both sides!*
John gave a weak laugh that morphed into a moan. While he could last over an hour when he was motivated, there was no real need to prove his endurance right now. Besides, Alyssa was hungry and the longer he held off, the longer before she was fed. So John offered no internal resistance as his pleasure reached higher and higher until it crossed the threshold into orgasm. He sighed happily as his cock erupted, Alyssa expertly drinking down each spurt while maximizing stimulation to prolong his climax as long and hard as possible.
His quad of balls finally drained dry, John looked down to see Alyssa withdrawing her face from his groin. She flashed a beatific smile at him, then reached down to cup her rounded belly, swollen from the half-gallon of sperm-rich spunk he'd filled her with. *I love this feeling. Full to the brim because of my man. And it's not even the fun way, not yet,* Alyssa thought with a teasing wink.
*And not for a while, nice as it is to fantasize,* John huffed a breath, his ebullient mood tapering down to his usual stoic calm. *You'll be on the front lines with me for the whole of the Progenitor War. It won't be safe to knock you up until it's effectively over and won. That could take decades, or even centuries.*
*Still, one day, you'll get me pregnant. I'll carry our baby and bring them into the world. My own gift to you, to pay you back for the Gift you gave me,* Alyssa thought with a serene smile.
John felt his heart grow tender, even as he raised a brow. *The Gift? Capital 'g'? Is that what we're going to nickname the process?*
*Sounds sexier than 'the Change' or 'Thrallization', don't you think?* Alyssa pointed out.
*Fair point,* John agreed. Plus, would be faster than saying "the suite of genetic edits caused by my Progenitor semen rewriting the subject's DNA" at any rate.
Alyssa, hardly affected by her gravid middle, slipped out of their bunk and went to put on the body-sleeve, robotically laundered overnight. Making herself decent in consideration of Calara, Alyssa went to exit and go to the cockpit. *Don't be a lazybones. We're due to arrive at Nerus and Port Heracles within 2 hours,* she thought as she left, having perfectly memorized the route she'd calculated and their remaining travel time.
John got up and dressed himself, grabbed breakfast for two from the rec room, and went to wake up Calara. The Latina blinked her eyes open when the lights turned on as he came in. "Morning, John," she said, sitting up gingerly and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Morning, Calara. We're due to arrive at Port Heracles later this morning. You don't have to stand up, they'll probably send in a med crew with a stretcher and shift you bed-to-bed into the hospital," John informed his new Thrall as he handed her her breakfast.
"Wow, that seems fast. It's been only 2 days in transit, hasn't it?" Calara blinked. "Especially in a ship this old, no offense."
"None taken. And Alyssa's not just a pretty face. She's a Navigator First Class, official certification and everything. She plotted the fastest route physically possible to get us from the Griffon to Heracles," John explained.
"Is that part of the perk package of the full 'Gift' I won't get on just one dose?" Calara asked.
*I can talk to her at the same time you can, thanks to the Matriarch-Thrall link,* Alyssa told John when he was surprised at the Latina referencing the Gift.
Putting juggling vocal and telepathic conversations simultaneously off for now, John nodded. "Yes. I focused almost entirely on your mind when we had an active link when you were… digesting. Any physical enhancements you would have received would be negligible. I'm not sure your DNA was even touched on, and if it was it would have been subconsciously on my own part."
"Running away with you guys gets more and more tempting," Calara managed to chuckle. "Still, you guys are immortal, right? Maybe when I'm old and gray and retired, I can call you guys up and get a second shot at life as part of your crew. Have my fulfilling military career as a Terran before joining the alien warlord as his eternal concubine."
"You'd be Alyssa's sister-wife, not on a lower tier or ranking than she is," John replied with a straight face. He chuckled at Calara's blush. "In all seriousness, that is an option. You already opted for 'B'. 'C' doesn't necessarily have to happen right now, or even this decade. If at any point you change your mind and decide to pledge your life to me, just call me up and I'll rush to your side and whisk you away."
"I'll keep that in mind," Calara said delicately, before distracting herself with eating her protein bars.
John collected the trash for Calara, handed her the laundered rags of her old fatigues for her to change into if she so desired, then went to join Alyssa in the cockpit. He settled down in the pilot's seat, she having taken the co-pilot's seat without thinking about it out of deference to him. John checked on their astro-nav route himself, despite every confidence in Alyssa's skills, he was just the type to double-check everything. That done, John decided to pass the time until they arrived at Nerus by checking Terran Federation Network News.
The headlines were the usual mix of sports, politics, entertainment, and civic news. An alarming number of trending pieces, though, seemed to be about the escalating tensions between the Terran Federation and the neighboring Kintark Empire. John frowned and pulled up a video of an interview between Lead Anchor Bill Armstrong and a member of High Command, Admiral Leonard Norwood.
"Admiral Norwood, can you confirm the rumors of numerous border skirmishes and increasing casualties thereof in the Dragon March?" asked the immaculately dressed and made-up journalist.
"The Terran border with the Kintark Empire is strong as ever," said the stony Admiral with a rather sour cast to his face. "The Lizards have indeed been acting more aggressive lately, testing the strength and conviction of the brave men and women who serve in the Dragon March. They have unilaterally been repulsed. Some injuries and losses are an unfortunate reality, but there's no reason to worry."
John listened to Armstrong try numerous tacks to try and get more information out of Norwood only to be met with clearly scripted responses that said very little with very many words. He sighed and exited the holo-feed. *A war with the Kintark. That'll end well,* he thought sardonically.
*Are you sure it's going to go all the way to a war?* Alyssa asked, having little to no understanding of the Galactic League and the interplay between the constituent empires.
*I recognize propaganda when I hear it. High Command is playing it off as the Lizards getting rowdy and we're calmly beating them back. I'll need to check with a few of my contacts near the border to get the real story, but my gut says things are much worse than they're telling the public. And we probably started this fight in the first place, so on our own head be our sins if this turns into a major conflict,* John explained his thoughts to his Matriarch.
*So what does this mean for us, personally?* Alyssa wondered.
John hummed as he steepled his fingers. *Well, on the one hand, if conflict is brewing then the demand for Tyrenium will be going up, ergo we'll make a better profit off our cargo when we reach Alpha Centauri. On the other hand, if the Kintark have closed their borders to Terran vessels, we won't be visiting them to upgrade the heatsinks for our new ship when we take a tour of the League after the second trip to Karron. And if a war does break out, I'm hardly going to re-enlist but if we stumble on any incidents, I'll be forced to intervene as a consultant. In the long-run, if I end up Maliri King, the fate of a war between the T-Fed and the Kintark will be immaterial for the most part. Still, the part of me that's still a little boy growing up on Terra feels bad that my birth nation is gearing up for a fight it may not win. The Kintark are the greatest military power in the League after us and the Maliri, after all.*
*Who all is in 'the League'?* Alyssa asked, figuring she could distract John with an educational moment and relieve her own ignorance with one move.
John focused on the question, well aware of Alyssa's intentions but playing along regardless. He pulled up an atlas of Galactic League territories. He lectured aloud "Here's the Galactic League, or almost every explored and therefore claimed star in known space. To keep perspective, it all totals less than 100 thousand stars, out of roughly 250 billion in the Milky Way. There's hundreds of member nations, but the Terran Federation is easily in the top 5 in terms of sheer size and military power. Most members have only their home system to their name. The major players each have hundreds or even thousands of star systems colonized or otherwise within their marked borders. There's an official summit every 10 years where they try to work out any issues or disagreements, but the League itself has no teeth. It can lean on members to comply with its standards, but there's no real penalties to ignoring them and a nation acting on its own devices. So 'the Galactic League' is used more as an easy way to refer to every nation humanity knows about than the actual organization."
"Who are the 'major players', besides the T-Fed?" Alyssa asked.
John patiently started to point out the biggest sections of the color-coded atlas. "The Terran Federation is centrally located in the League, hence why Terran Standard has become the lingua franca since most international trade happens within our borders compared to going all the way to the other empire. Believe it or not, though, almost all of what we have now used to belong to the Ashanath Collective, that empire to our 'south'. When humanity first reached Alpha Centauri and made contact with the Gray colony there marked the beginning of them seceding systems over to us. Mankind just kept expanding outward, and the Ashanath for whatever reason peacefully handed over all those planets and resources rather than put up a fight. Current borders were reached about two centuries ago, but I'm sure at least one Admiral has a big binder of strategies to annex them for good and make them a vassal state. 'Grays' is a nickname, like 'Lizards' for the Kintark."
John paused. "Fun fact. 'Ashanath' is the Progenitor word for 'Collective'. Which might make Ashanath Collective a translation issue, like Rio Grande River or Sahara Desert, but whatever. The fact they're bipedal mammalian humanoids is another way they could be linked to the Progenitors. And I got a close look at their Tachyon Drive tech, their superior version of Terran FTL Drives. It was watered-down Progenitor parts, I swear. There's definitely some kind of connection between the Ashanath and at least one Progenitor, likely in the distant past. But I'm not sure when or where, and I don't know who to ask or where to look for answers."
"Might be worth making them our first stop after the second Tyrenium deal. Besides doing some research, getting faster hyper-warp speeds will make getting all the other upgrades that much faster," Alyssa put in her two credits.
"Not a bad idea," John nodded.
"Who's past the Outer Rim, the 'eastern' border?" Alyssa asked, regarding the ochre-colored section of stars with curiosity.
"The Kirrix, aka the Bugs. Kill-on-sight throughout the League, a living plague on sapient life. You've never heard of them?" John asked, a little surprised given she'd grown up within spitting distance of the border.
"I didn't see the point of learning about the rest of the galaxy when I seemed doomed to live and die on Karron," Alyssa admitted without shame. "Plus any education I got stopped when I ran away from the orphanage at 8. Not counting my new Astro-Nav chops, over half of what I know was picked up from listening to gossip around the barrel fire, and I can't be sure all of it was true or accurate."
John didn't bother saying sorry, though he radiated care and comfort across their link. "Well, maybe ignorance was bliss. The Kirrix are insectoid parasites. They invade planets and colonies with intelligent life, specifically go after sapient species as opposed to lower life-forms, and rape their eggs into each host. Two weeks later, the grubs hatch and eat their way out of the still-breathing body. Most people who live near the Kirrix border have nightmares of dying from Kirrix implantation. You, on the other hand, couldn't be scared of what you didn't know existed."
"Yikes," Alyssa shivered, images of a giant cockroach violating her now playing in her head. "That's despicable. Do we know why they do it?"
"They don't appear to communicate via sound waves, and their computers don't seem capable of interfacing with any other species'. All attempts at communication have failed. The Kirrix are an anomaly. Smart enough to crack interstellar travel, yet apparently driven purely by instinct to procreate and expand. We don't know why they do what they do, and so far the universally accepted answer is just to wipe them out to a drone whenever we cross paths," John revealed.
"Then why did your mom's ship go exploring in that direction?" Alyssa wondered, recalling the fact that John had apparently been conceived on a planet in Kirrix space.
"Keep in mind this was back in the '30s. The Kirrix hadn't expanded to their current borders yet. The '40s Purges is when they tried to expand into Federation space and High Command fought them back to their current borders. In any case, I'd need a Progenitor-grade ship before I'm comfortable going to investigate my father's planet, given we'll be fighting through Kirrix territory the whole while," John sighed, mind heavy with thoughts.
"So, Terrans in the middle. Bugs to the right, Grays behind us. What about left, in front, below, and above?" Alyssa asked, hoping to shift her man's focus off dark topics.
"'Left' or 'west' is the Kintark Empire, the ones we're gearing up to fight," John said, getting back to the lesson. "Reptilian, bipedal but capable of quadrupedal movement. Their society is a genetic caste system. Also very religious, but that's neither here nor there. They've been playing around with gene-splicing longer than humanity's had the steam engine, and over time they've settled into various subspecies. Top of the food chain is the Imperial family. If the videos I've seen aren't pure fabrication, Emperor Baledranax is a 200-foot winged dragon of all things. Not fire-breathing, but that's where their famous Plasma weaponry comes in. Like I said, in the same weight class as the T-Fed in terms of military might, so a real war will be a bloodbath no matter which way you slice it."
John continued before he could linger too long on that disquieting notion. "To our 'north' is the Brimorian Enclave. Aquatics, though technically amphibian with a preference for water. We have a checkered history with them. The first wave of Terran colonists that went past their border made settlements on land, unaware of their neighbors underwater. The Brimorians reacted rather violently, slaughtering every Terran colonist. The Callopean Shoals became a warzone until we finally beat them back to current borders. They're sore losers though, so every few decades there's a major skirmish where they try to reclaim those systems and we have to repel them. Always by 'rogue' elements, of course, not backed by the Enclave," John said with an eye roll.
"What's their claim to fame? They must have some kind of 'edge' to have such a large empire," Alyssa reasoned, regarding that section of the atlas.
"Their shield technology is tougher than old boots. No other species has ever cracked whatever they've done to make their ships' force fields so resistant. And they're not in the mood to share. They don't quite have closed borders, but all 'aliens' are begrudgingly tolerated at best. Cultural xenophobia, in my opinion. If you're not Brimorian, you're not a person to them, or at least that's the vibe I've picked up from most every Brimorian I've encountered," John answered.
"Moving on, beneath us is the Trankaran Republic, along with a solid dozen minor empires that border or exist independently within their territory," John went on to discuss. "Very friendly, gentle giants in my experience. Emphasis on 'giant'. Their women are as tall as me and their men crack 8 feet. Bipedal mammalian humanoids too, with one key difference: they're silicon-based, not carbon. They look like living granite statues. Also, 'Trankara' is Progenitor for 'miner'. Coincidence, I think not. Plus their origin story speaks of the 'Great Maker', who sounds an awful lot like a Progenitor if you know what to listen for. Not to mention the 'War of the Heavens', when the Great Maker and 'Ranagon the Despoiler' clashed in battle. Rahn'hagon is a Progenitor name, for the record."
"So your dad could be either of them?" Alyssa saw the connection immediately.
"That seems most likely, though it's impossible to be certain. The 'War of the Heavens' was prehistoric for the Trankarans, passed down by word of mouth for generations before they transitioned to an interstellar empire. Impossible to tell how long ago it actually happened. Progenitors being immortal, it remains a distinct possibility, but still," John hummed in thought.
"And, last but certainly not least, the Maliri above us. Those systems marked on the atlas are just what we've confirmed form their border with the rest of the League. No one knows how big their empire really is, on account of any alien that moves past the border is summarily executed," John wrapped up the virtual tour. "They're the most technologically advanced species in the Galactic League. And it all strikes me as civilian-grade Progenitor tech that's evolved over thousands of years. Plus they have the bedtime story of 'the Mael'nerak'. Mael'nerak is a Progenitor name meaning 'Evil Enslaver'. I'm certain they're a Thrall species, probably the one that served the Great Maker who must have been Mael'nerak. They went on after his death, and became what they are today. But at heart, they're still a genetically-designed slave race meant to serve a Progenitor. I'm enhanced as Kyth'vindathys, but I'm still technically a Progenitor. Do the math."
"So you'll be working with a major handicap via genetic programming. Still, you'll have to either conquer or somehow peacefully unite them all under your banner. That could take a while, and be very bloody while it lasts," Alyssa reasoned.
"Unfortunately, I don't see any better or faster way to get an interstellar empire's resources at my beck and call. Which is necessary to build a Progenitor-level fleet and prepare to at least defend the League from every other Progenitor in the galaxy, let alone go out to fight and defeat any of them," John sighed. "Luckily, we should have nothing but time to work with. Unless a Progenitor finds the League before we're finished, in which case we're screwed, blued, and tattooed. But I try to be a glass half-full guy."
Alyssa occupied John with more detailed questions about the League and other species, including the nations that had refused to sign on with any treaty. The Drakkar and the Enshunu were mentioned as the major players outside the League. Time passed, and finally the Fool's Gold reached its destination. The ship's FTL Drive deactivated as soon as they entered the gravity well of the Nerus system.
"That's Port Heracles," John indicated on the System Map.
"It looks like a bunch of dinner plates stacked on top of each other," Alyssa gave her unvarnished opinion.
"Appearances aside, it's the last major T-Fed outpost in this direction. Every military operation in the Outer Rim can trace its supply lines or crew transfers back to here," John informed his young Matriarch. "That includes reinforcing the Kirrix border. Plus, it's a major trade center since a lot of species stop to refuel here while hauling cargo from the Trankaran Republic to the Maliri Regency."
"Regency? As in a government awaiting the return of a king? Oh, yeah, they're definitely Thralls," Alyssa chuckled as she connected the dots.
"It's a big clue, but you never know for sure," John shrugged. "Anyway, take us in. I'll rough out my After Action Report to submit while we're enroute."
It took over 90 minutes with the Fool's Gold's outdated civilian engines to even reach the hailing distance for Port Heracles. John contacted Flight Control, gave a brief synopsis of the Griffon ambush and his role in it, submitted his AAR, and requested a medical team to pick up Second Lieutenant Fernandez from the freighter when it docked. It all went off without a hitch, and within another hour they were touching down on a landing pad in one of Port Heracles' many docking bays.
John went to open the airlock, where a team of medics with an anti-grav stretcher were patiently waiting. He led them to the passenger cabin, and supervised them professionally moving Calara from the bunk onto the stretcher.
"Thank you both for everything," Calara wished, waving goodbye as she was floated away.
"We'll call you every day!" Alyssa said back brightly, blowing a kiss.
"Stay safe, Calara," John wished as he walked beside her stretcher. When the team cleared the airlock, he waved goodbye himself before sealing both doors behind them.
It took just as long to exit the system as it had to reach the starport, but John and Alyssa were hardly bored in each other's presence. As soon as they were in hyper-warp, with an ETA of 8 days to Alpha Centauri, it was time for a late lunch.
John was almost distracted while Alyssa blew him. He'd had an idea, and it wouldn't leave him alone despite the onslaught of pleasant sensations. When he'd finished cumming and filling Alyssa to the brim, he settled on a course of action. *Alyssa? What other powers do you want?* he asked directly.
The young, beautiful teen blinked. *What do you mean? I already have Telepathy. And even that's extra compared to a normal Thrall.*
*Last time, you and I went in as a team. But I can't guarantee that will always be the case,* John explained his thought process. *If you're ever caught alone, I want you to be able to do more than call for help telepathically. I want you to be able to fight. Part of that can come from training you in firearms or hand-to-hand. But if, heaven forbid, a Progenitor corners you, I want you to be able to psychically kick his ass. So, what offensive powers do you want? Or any other powers, the whole runic alphabet is yours for the taking. It's just a little more editing for your third helix, which you already have from the Telepathy or Mind Rune being spliced in.*
Alyssa hummed. *I don't suppose you can just give me ALL the powers and make me the first female Progenitor?*
*Let's start small, though we can certainly work up to that,* John agreed. He saw nothing wrong with having a partner equal to him in power. Which was a decidedly Terran idea, he was sure most Progenitors would gag at the thought, but fuck those monsters.
*Hmm… well, they always go hand-in-hand in the movies. Can I get Telekinesis to go with the Telepathy?* Alyssa requested.
*No problem,* John nodded. He focused on the runic alphabet that described every Progenitor's powers. Focusing on the Force Rune, he went through the mental exercise of imagining it flowing through his active link with Alyssa and embedding itself in her DNA.
Alyssa gasped, her eyes flaring with a snow-white light while goosebumps appeared all over her body. "That was tingly!" she huffed breathlessly, honestly not sure if it had been agony or ecstasy that had flashed through her body before vanishing just as fast.
John frowned, noticing something significant. *I… lost some energy. Not spent, lost. My reserves shrank just a tad.*
Alyssa frowned. *Do you still have the Force Rune yourself, or did you 'transfer' it to me?* she asked in alarm.
John focused, and made an empty glass leftover from earlier float from where it was placed to his hand. *I still have it. But I didn't just use some energy temporarily to give you a Rune. I permanently sacrificed some to imbue it into your third helix.*
*So we shouldn't do that again,* Alyssa thought firmly.
John shook his head. *I'm sure I can gain back the difference between training or recruiting a new woman to the network. And there's power in numbers. I'm fine with cutting my reserves in half altogether if that means I'll have you just as strong next to me.*
*I appreciate the sentiment, but let's not get carried away,* Alyssa frowned. She contemplated the situation. *You'll stay the jack of all trades, the Progenitor warrior-mage with ALL the powers. I, as your Matriarch, will be your lieutenant, blessed with a decent chunk of my own magic. And every other sister-wife we recruit along the way can specialize in one or two Runes individually. We won't just be your harem, we'll be your bodyguard of witches.*
*That sounds like an excellent idea, actually,* John agreed. *So, you already have Mind and Force now. Any other requests? If you ever change your mind or think of something else, you just have to ask.*
Alyssa, conscious that any power-up for her was a power-down for John, at least in the short-term, decided to be frugal with her choices. Still, she didn't know all her options. *What's the full alphabet again?*
John focused and a large blue translucent hexagon of solid light appeared out of thin air before him. He reached out and traced a central rune, then 6 around it, 12 around them, 18 around those, and 24 for a final ring. *These are the standard 61 Progenitor Runes. There's secret Kyth'faren Runes known only to them and Xar'aziuth, but I can't consciously access them. I can use them, like when I rewrote the Connection, but it seems to be on an 'as needed' basis. They'll activate by reflex if necessary, but otherwise I can't even think of what they look like or what they are* John told his blonde lover.
*So you've got secret emergency powers you don't even know the specifics of… that sounds unreliable, but there's nothing we can really do about it, I guess* Alyssa hummed before letting it go for now. She focused on the 61 Runes on display. *Give me a rundown of each of these.*
*The central Rune is Power, and allows for the gathering and use of psychic energy in the first place…* John patiently pointed to each Rune and explained its meaning and what powers it could activate. He also explained how interactions between different Runes could create novel powers or applications, and that some Runes naturally resonated with others. Also how each psychic had an inclination to specific Runes, which determined individual affinity and proficiency with using them.
*What Rune are you most attuned to?* Alyssa asked curiously.
John sighed and pointed. *Destruction. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I certainly will have to destroy Xar'aziuth's whole system and every Progenitor who serves him. And a blazing forest fire clears away the brush to allow for new growth. Still, it bothers me that my very nature is geared more towards tearing things down than building them up.*
*You have the power to create too, you know. You'll be using it pretty often once the Progenitor War is over,* Alyssa pointed out, going so far as to reach out and cup his quad.
John snorted but couldn't deny he felt a bit lighter. *Point taken. I'll be the destructor until the War is over. Then I'll retire and plant my seed in a fair few fertile fields to grow.*
*Sounds like a plan!* Alyssa beamed. She turned to refocus on the hexagon filled with Runes. She settled on her choices. *Give me Spirit. Not only will that let me Spirit-Walk and do deep-dives into people's minds, but I'll be able to join you in the Astral Plane if you ever need to go there besides from a recruitment dream. Like you said, power in numbers. And also Lumen. Not to get too symbolic, but the Devourer is a shadow monster. I'd like to hit him with some supernova-level lasers when the time comes, just to be poetic.*
*Spirit and Lumen it is,* John nodded. He repeated what he'd done with the Force Rune. He felt it even more sharply as his total reserves were reduced, but it was worth it to viscerally feel Alyssa's own power expand and thicken across their link.
Thoroughly spent from all the psychic exercise, John and Alyssa relaxed for the rest of the afternoon, got their normal dinner, then drifted off to sleep in each other's arms around the usual hour.
The next day started bright and early. John, balls tingling from feeding Alyssa breakfast, did his typical calisthenics routine in the workout corner. He showered and dressed before going to the cockpit at Alyssa's mental nudge. She handed him an apple and a protein bar, along with a glass of milk. *Now that I've learned all there is worth knowing about Astro-Nav, what do you think I should study next?* she checked as he began to scarf down the food.
John gave it some thought. *Well, not that it really matters, but just to round out your knowledge base you should look into how to get your General Education certificate. Basically a high school diploma for people who didn't attend high school. You're probably the first Navigator First Class in history who passed the test without finishing secondary school, but whatever. Once you do that, though, it's really up to you. Research whatever you feel like, honey.*
*Yeah, yeah, freedom of choice, you empower instead of enslave women, I get it. But what would make me more useful to you? No joke, John,* Alyssa pressed.
John decided it wasn't worth arguing with her over her motivation to learn and thought instead of where best to aim it. *I don't know the first thing about investing or how to handle the kind of money we're set to make from both Tyrenium deals. Personal finance, that's what you should study next. Make it so we couldn't go broke if we tried, or even how to make us richer than we'll already become.*
*Master making moolah, got it. But first, basic pillars of education,* Alyssa nodded. She turned to the console before her and searched the holo-net for a sample GE diploma test.
John finished his breakfast, then went to do the regular maintenance chores necessary for a ship this old. Alyssa, as per usual, was a delightful distraction at the back of his head, whether he was actively communicating with her or just passively listening to her stream of consciousness. At lunch, they met in person for the expected blowjob while he ate, and John reflected he was a lucky sumbitch to have such consistent sex he could almost set his clock to it.
Once both their bellies were full, Alyssa suggested they call Calara. Seeing nothing wrong with that, John led them to the cockpit. He pulled up the comm interface, Alyssa settling herself in his lap, and initiated a comm-link with Calara via the code she'd shared.
The call was wired to the last comm device registered with that particular code, and then it took a minute for the connection to stabilize across the string of comm beacons in between both sides. Soon enough, though, Calara's face appeared on the vid-screen in the Fool's Gold's cockpit. She appeared to be in a hospital room, likely using a complimentary holo-console. She gave a weak smile when she saw them. "Hey, you two. You really did call."
"Just like we promised! And John always keeps his promises, which means I have to too," Alyssa made a little joke at her expense. "So, how are they treating you there?"
"Technically, they're not 'treating' me at all," Calara huffed with annoyance. "All my wounds were ruled unnecessary for surgery. They're keeping me on a steady supply of pain meds and redid the medi-gel on my back, but otherwise I'm just waiting in bed for time to do all the work."
"That's stupid," Alyssa frowned. "Is there really nothing better they can do?"
"Supposedly not," Calara shrugged, as much as she could with her bound ribs.
"Terran medicine has come a long way, but some things really are best left to Father Time," John offered his own view. "At least you get a couple weeks of rest before you have to worry about reassignment and your next posting."
"Yeah, and the food isn't any worse than what I was getting on the Griffon. So I guess I should look at this as a short vacation instead of a benign prison sentence. It gives me time to catch up with my family, too," Calara nodded along with John.
"Are you close with your family?" Alyssa asked. She'd actually never had to ask that question. It was assumed on Karron that everyone was alone and out for themselves.
"Oh, my brothers are my best friends, I love my Mom to tears, and Daddy is my hero!" Calara said brightly.
"Tell us about them," John prompted, silently tracking whether any jealousy or resentment would bubble up from Alyssa. Orphaned at a young age, listening to what was clearly a model family be described would have to be hard.
"We're all military, it's a tradition going back generations on both sides!" Calara happily began to gush. "Dad is Jack Fernandez, and he's currently Captain of the cruiser Damocles. Mom is Maria. They actually met when both got assigned to bridge crew on the Damocles almost 30 years ago. They got a lot of flak from their CO over 'fraternization among the crew'. They got married and less than a year later Mateo was born. Less than 9 months, even, but we just laugh about that when it comes up. After him came Dylan, and then Eduardo, and then me. Mom retired from Comms to be a stay-at-home mom on Jericho. Us kids have all graduated from the Academy now and are serving around the Federation."
"Where's everybody posted?" Alyssa asked, not green in the slightest. It was beautiful to see Calrara's face light up thinking of her loved ones. She wouldn't begrudge her luck just because Alyssa herself had been dealt a poor hand.
"Like I said, Dad is Captain of the Damocles. He's stationed in the Dragon March, so I'm a bit worried about him, but I trust him and his crew to handle themselves," Calara said, a shadow flickering over her face before it vanished. "Mateo is the Navigator on the light carrier Hydra, Dylan is stationed at Port Megara as a doctor, and Eduardo is a junior engineer on the battleship Orion. I'm trained as a Tactical Officer myself, not that I got the chance to prove it on the Griffon. We got ambushed while I was asleep, and there wasn't a chance of ship-to-ship battle in the first place."
"You all seem to have gone into very distinct fields within the service. What did your father do before he became Captain?" John wondered.
"He worked Tactical too, so I'm kinda following in his footsteps. We used to joke about all of us crewing our own ship someday. Never going to happen, but it was a nice fantasy," Calara chuckled.
John and Alyssa chatted with Calara for an hour before finally hanging up. A daily post-lunch call became a ritual on the final leg of their journey to Alpha Centauri. John felt a great deal of fondness for his Thrall, not just as a woman in psychic servitude to himself but as a strong young woman he could be friends with. Alyssa and Calara got on like a house on fire, and the blonde was amazed that she could get along so well with anyone besides Sparks or John. She wondered if this is how most 'healthy' friendships started rather than trauma-bonded trainwrecks like she was used to.
Other than the call with Calara, the Fool's Gold's crew's routine remained consistent. Alyssa spent most of the day in the cockpit teaching herself from the holo-net, and John made sure the freighter didn't break down on them. Mealtimes were occasionally spiced up with an 'appetizer' of vigorous vaginal sex before John fed his still-slick cock to Alyssa at the end to feed her. The two were in love and blissfully happy together. They also recognized this may be the last time they had such a long, uninterrupted stretch of time to themselves without anything more urgent to do. So they savored each day as it passed.
Finally, the fateful day came when their ETA was measured in hours instead of days. Due to arrive around mid-morning, John and Alyssa both settled in the cockpit after breakfast to await their arrival at Alpha Centauri.
"Remind me what the agenda is," Alyssa asked lightly, just passing time. Her photographic memory hadn't forgotten a syllable of John's initial explanation over dinner the night before.
"We'll arrive, and wait however long it takes to get an audience with Charles Harris. He was my CO most of my time in the Marines and who helped facilitate my deal to become a consultant. He's my 'handler' for lack of a better word, plus the most senior officer I'm acquainted with. I figure he'll be the best person to deal the Tyrenium with or at least get us in touch with whoever is. Price might depend on some factors out of our control, but we're set to make over 100 million credits if the T-Fed doesn't haggle too hard," John spelled out.
"All that money for 4 crates' worth of shiny metal," Alyssa shook her head in disbelief. "That's ridiculous."
"Tyrenium makes Singularity Generators, honey, which power Singularity Drivers on Dreadnoughts and other ships-of-the-line. And with war brewing with the Kintark, I'd bet my left nuts that at least one is in the production line. They'll pay through the nose for our ore, I guarantee. Just how much so, I can't say, but we'll be set for life just on this deal, let alone what we get on the return trip," John assured his companion.
"And what comes after we sell the ore and become rich?" Alyssa prompted.
"At least take a look at the decommissioned ships up for auction and see if we can afford anything good," John answered. "I'd prefer an ex-military ship, but if they're all too rich for our blood even after the deal then we can look into some good civilian models. In either case, whatever ship we pick will need to be refurbished and refueled and restocked and everything. That'll take a few days, maybe a week. So in the meantime, we can head down to Gravitus and have a proper vacation. Taste of the high life, for you and for me. Even with what little might be left over after buying our new ship, we'll still be able to have a lot of fun."
"And then head back to Karron to get whatever Tyrenium Mortimer has left, and possibly recruit Sparks if not just set her free from indentured servitude," Alyssa nodded. "Then a second deal for the ore, then a tour of the Galactic League to upgrade every system with superior alien versions. First stop, the Ashanath. Right?"
"You got it," John confirmed.
"What's so special about Alpha Centauri, anyway? Why would some big-shot military guy like Harris be stationed so close to Terra?" Alyssa asked.
"Other than being the closest neighbor to Sol? Two words: Olympus Shipyard. The beating heart of the Federation navy," John said with no small amount of patriotic pride.
As if on cue, the Fool's Gold reached the gravity well of Alpha Centauri's stars. The antiquated freighter fell out of hyper-warp, and the scanners did their best to fill the System Map with all the relevant data they collected. There was so much to record and process that the system almost crashed.
"Holy shit!" Alyssa gasped. "This place is packed!"
It was true, there was so much traffic along each space-lane in the system they were almost in gridlock. Almost exclusively headed to or from the orbital shipyard hovering above the planet on the second orbital path. Olympus Shipyard was massive, easily more than 3x the size of Port Heracles. It consisted of six stumpy prongs radiating like the spokes of a bike wheel out from a central core.
"Seriously, how are there so many people here? WHY are there so many people here?" Alyssa continued to gape. The whole population of Karron amounted to less than a million citizens, even counting the undocumented and criminal elements. The asteroid colony saw a fresh trader or supply ship maybe once every couple weeks. From what she could see, there were more ships on approach to Olympus just in the nearest space-lane than Karron saw in a year. Such a large amount of people strained her brain to even contemplate.
"Olympus is a mighty machine, cranking out repairs, retrofitting, and constructing entirely new ships around the clock. There's the military craft coming in to have work done. There's traders, like us, who provide the raw goods to keep the operation running smoothly while making a profit. Not to mention Gravitus, the planet it orbits, is the oldest and most established colony outside the Sol System. I think more people live on Olympus, between stationed personnel and civilian workers for all the businesses who rent out cabins, than Karron." John reached out and patted Alyssa's shoulder. "You're not in the Outer Rim anymore, honey. Welcome to the Core Worlds."
"You hear that the T-Fed has over 100 billion citizens and most of them live in the Core Worlds. I guess it didn't 'click' what that meant in terms of population density," Alyssa said faintly. "So many people… it hurts my head to think about it. In that context, Karron is just a tiny border town barely on the map, isn't it?"
"Sadly, yes, and it gets about as much attention or care from Colonial Administration, I'm sure. Same for most of the Outer Rim past Nerus, in my opinion. Humanity always had a bad habit of expanding faster than it should. You can practically see law and order and infrastructure fall apart the further away from Sol you get. Colonies like Karron are the absolute worst examples of Terran society. Even some prisons are more hospitable." John paused. "Still, if you weren't born exactly where you were at exactly when you were, we might never have met."
"Then I guess I can't complain," Alyssa finally gave a small yet assured grin. "But since we've got eternity, knock on wood, promise me something. I want to visit EVERY Terran colony. Just to compare, just to say I have. That sound doable?"
"Not a problem, honey. We'll work on that as soon as the Progenitor War is over. Call it a honeymoon before I knock you up and we settle down for good on whatever Throne World I claim," John nodded.
"Throne World?" Alyssa blinked, hearing the subtle capitalization in how John said the words.
"The center of a Progenitor's power, from where he rules his empire. Typically also where his primary Soulforge is constructed, though I'm sure at least one Progenitor has switched things up over the years to avoid being predictable. Unless Xar'aziuth likes things to be predictable, then never mind," John explained.
"Would Mael'nerak have had a Throne World in Maliri space?" Alyssa asked, even as she noted John silently guiding them into the nearest space-lane to join the approach vector towards Olympus. With their slow speed, it could take hours and many ships would pass them, she was sure.
"Most likely. Then again, if he was involved with the Ashanath and the Trankarans, then maybe his Throne World was in their territories and humanity hasn't found them yet. But that strikes me as unlikely; Trankarans have an open-border policy and let everyone go everywhere so long as they respect the universal ceasefire. Be hard to hide a planet with a massive palace chock-full of advanced alien technology from passerby. The Ashanath might be more likely, in what remains of their territory. Would even explain why they held onto that portion while giving away the rest to the T-Fed. But the Maliri are more probable, just because so little is known about their interior. Wouldn't surprise me if Mael'nerak's palace is a holy site for the Maliri, assuming they're aware of their origins," John thought aloud. "I just don't know for sure, though, Alyssa."
"Add that to the list of things to do once you're Maliri King: set up an archaeology division to research Mael'nerak's reign. If you could piggyback off some of his progress, you'd save so much time and energy getting started with the Progenitor War," Alyssa posited.
"You are my muse, my font of inspiration," John said, a little over-the-top but meaning every word. That might never have occurred to John. Guess it was true, two heads were better than one. Having a second perspective on the whole Progenitor/Kyth'vindathys thing was resulting in novel and original thoughts.
"So imagine once you have a private think tank of supergenius ladies who will obey your every command!" Alyssa teasingly winked.
"I took out the obedience compulsion," John protested weakly.
"Doesn't mean we can't be good, submissive girls by choice though, does it?" Alyssa countered.
"Point taken," John said weakly, musing that he might be biting off more than he could chew, surrounding himself with women shaped to the same mold as Alyssa had been. What a way to go, though, he thought. He'd happily choke in that case.