Pierce’s vanished from sight as McDowell’s body was forced underwater. He was still able to breathe, a psionic force field covered him and the lady that found him fascinating. Their passionate play continued as they sank lower, the purple hue from the barrier became the only source of light within the dark ocean realm. It wasn’t until he felt her nipples slide across his chest that he realized she had taken his uniform off.
He sensed that she needed him alive for what was going to come next via the psionic bound she created between the two. She assured him it was OK and not to resist. He assured her he wouldn’t, she was too beautiful, and he was too roused and hard to say no.
Long tendrils grew out from the center of her back where her spine was. There were four of them, maybe five, and they raised high above her head as the ends faced McDowell. She began to kiss him again, this time much more aggressively. Her tongue entered his mouth, her left hand held onto his shoulder while the right stroked his shaft. Her body pressed hard against his, moving up and down while her tail slowly wrapped around his legs.
The intensity of her lustful actions drew his attention away from the tendrils that sprouted out of her back, and the fact that the tips of them had become razor-sharp. Their foreheads pressed against each other as her sultry eyes gazed into his. One last look before her tendrils slithered behind him and impaled his body. He sensed the pain and possible fatal trauma his body was enduring. But the gaze she shot him, it was paralyzing. She was controlling his body’s natural need for self-preservation while genetic material was leeched away from him, into her tendrils, then into her.
She moaned erotically, and while her body shivered with pleasure and ecstasy, the psionic barrier shutdown. Seconds later their bodies were truly submerged in the warm water around them. McDowell was drowning while his blood squirted out from the gaping holes on his back. With the last bit of life he had left in his body, he turned to see what had become of Kingston. The lady that had taken him performed the same move on his naked body. She removed the impaling tendrils out from his back, then ejected his drowning body into the abyss below.
McDowell’s partner did the same seconds later with a smile on her face.
14 FOSTER
Architect’s ship
Interstellar space
May 21, 2050, 00:32 SST (Sol Standard Time)
Captain Foster’s head and back pulsated with pain.
She felt as if she had run face first into a brick wall as her eyes slowly opened. She saw what appeared to be the floor of where she had been resting. It was a dark, shiny, metallic alloy, along with the rest of the walls and ceiling. Windows along the sides revealed the stars and blackness of space. A large door was sealed shut ahead that led further into the ship while the oval dormant wormhole that no doubt brought them aboard was behind them.
This wasn’t the first time Foster saw this chamber. The aliens . . . rather the Architect’s soldiers that attacked them back at Sirius B and at Poniga city exited via a wormhole that linked to a room like this.
She pushed herself up and looked around, Poniga were skulking about, the same ones that had been chained up and gathered by the Architect’s men. The middle of the room they were in had a glass floor which Foster stepped across seeing the stars of space. Then it hit her, she stepped across it, there was gravity. Yet the stars weren’t moving suggesting the ship didn’t use rotating habitat rings, a shipboard psionic was probably generating gravity elsewhere she figured.
Her weapon and EAD were missing, probably taken by her captors, wherever they were. She continued to search through the room amongst the sad, weeping Poniga. Some of them clearly had passed away during the struggle as their lifeless bodies rested on the floor, their robes charred by laser fire. In the four corners of the room were the Architect’s laser cannon grunt troopers.
Perhaps there was a jail break attempt I missed when I was out cold? She thought.
From time to time the Poniga would try to speak to her in their language, a language she couldn’t reply to. The tone of their voices was sympathetic, as if they were sorry for getting her dragged into the mess, Eisila and Mavron especially. Mavron motioned for Foster to approach her as he sat with his sister in the corner. He held something in his hands, something that radiated light, he wanted her to look at it.
Footsteps echoed from outside a large door, they got louder as they neared it causing Mavron to panic and cancel whatever he had hoped to reveal to Foster. The doorway slithered open and overlord soldiers barged in yelling and screaming at the Poniga, pointing their spears at them in a threatening manner.
The overlords pushed and shoved their way past the Poniga clearing a way to Foster, Eisila, and Mavron. The sharp tips of their weapons hovered before their faces. Eisila, Mavron, and the overlords exchanged heated words back and forth resulting in the overlords brutally pushing the two siblings aside and directing their focus toward Foster.
Foster’s hands rose up in surrender while the overlords continued to yell at her. “Sorry, hun, I don’t speak asshole.”
The dead grunt soldiers scattered about the room began to rise up to their feet making everyone cower in fear as the overlords continued to yell more questions at Foster, questions she didn’t understand. It frustrated them to the point one of them bashed her face with its Bronze Age like shield. The blow sent her flying backward onto the floor and turned her headache into a migraine.
A small boy began to scream as he saw Foster fall. Foster kept her head to the ceiling for she knew the soldiers weren’t a fan of crying children. Several thumps and whacks came moments later followed by yelling and then laughter from the soldiers before they left. Whatever they did, it silenced the terrorized boy instantly. Mavron and Eisila helped Foster slowly get back to her feet as she tried her best to ignore the pain in her head and back. The grunt soldiers that had rose up from the dead, fell back down dead as their overlords left the room.
There’s a connection between those two types of soldiers, she thought. Mind control perhaps?
The mother of the boy cried out as she looked down to her unresponsive offspring. Several Poniga limped toward the downed child then quickly turned away in disgust and anger. Foster pushed past Mavron and Eisila and moved to see what had happen to the child, doing everything she could to prevent the pain in her body from growing stronger from the sudden movements.
She ran her hands over the body of the child checking for vital signs. He wasn’t breathing, nor was there a pulse. Well, no pulse she could detect, Poniga might look human but their insides could be different. Think, think, think, how can I figure out where their pulse would be? Foster began to randomly touch the Poniga in the places one would find a human pulse. As it turned out they had a pulse where humans have one, therefore the boy on the floor had lost his heartbeat, probably due to the beating.
Foster took a deep breath and recalled her first aid training, her hands moved down to perform chest compressions on the unresponsive child, hoping that CPR was a technique that would work on their species.
It did.
Life came back into the badly beaten and bloody boy after a few coughs. The Poniga along with the child’s mother looked at Foster in shock. Given how primitive their species was, Foster suspected they saw her as a magical healer rather than a human with basic first aid knowledge.
The mother spoke to her in a grateful and tearful manner. “Uh, you’re welcome,” Foster said.
Hours had passed when Foster found herself waking up having fallen asleep with the rest of the Poniga. A risky mistake considering she might have had a concussion. She shuffled next to the windows and gazed out into the cold vacuum of space. The faint light from Sirius B could be seen below, while metallic egg-shaped ships flew next to them in formation. There were hundreds of them from what she saw.