- Home
- Stella Rising
His Human Conquest Page 10
His Human Conquest Read online
Page 10
With a thought, Vol opens my cage. “How did you rest?” he asks.
“Very well, sir,” I reply, sitting up.
Vol takes a seat next to me and beckons for me to sit in his lap. Though I’m wary of where we stand, I take this as a sign of affection. As soon as I set myself down on him, I feel a bulge rising in his pants.
“You’re still a little angry, aren’t you, pet?”
“Yes, but… I just have… concerns, is all. I’m sorry for what happened—I didn’t mean to cause a scene and put lives in danger—but I was really upset about the prison planets. I’m worried about what will happen to humanity.”
Vol slips his arms around me and kisses the back of my head. “Apology accepted, pet. And I’m sorry too. I know this is a lot for you to handle. The changes to your life—to all humans’ lives—is extreme. You’re handling it better than most, I imagine. And I promise that I will allay your fears. Earth will see how much better things will be once we’ve taken over.”
I sigh, still not sure that he’s right, though I believe he means it. Maybe I shouldn’t doubt it, but the idea that aliens will arrive and fix our world is hard to accept—especially when the answer means banishing some people entirely.
“This was a good lesson for you, Jillian,” Vol continues. “I need you to trust me, and to listen to me.”
“I want to, sir,” I reply, turning back to look into his eyes. “I mean it.”
Vol takes my hand in his, and my heart begins to pound a little heavier. “I’m your master, Jillian. I will test you, challenge you, and probably infuriate you from time to time, but I won’t lead you astray.”
The word ‘master’ makes me shiver with something more than nerves—fear, desire? I don’t think I can even tell the difference anymore. Warmth gathers in my core, and I squirm on Vol’s lap, knowing he might feel my wetness. I shake my head, frustrated at my body’s consistently unhelpful responses.
“Did I say something?” Vol asks.
“‘Master,’” I sigh. “Being owned, treated like property, sleeping in a goddamn fucking cage—it goes against everything I believe about freedom and equality.”
Vol nods. “I know. For your entire life, you’ve been determining your destiny, or at least have tried to. Now you’re being told that not only are you not in charge, but that someone else is, and you are expected to accept it. Of course that’s an affront to what you believe—but what about the way you feel?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter, though truthfully I’d rather not answer. On some level, I know exactly how I feel: my pussy makes that clear whenever I think of Vol.
“You’re going to figure it out, pet. I’ll help you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vol lifts me out of his lap and onto the bed; he crouches in front of me, lowering himself to my level and gazing into my eyes. “No one is born with all the answers, Jillian Wexler. I have a few thousand years of experience on you, and we have nothing but time to teach and explore. I will help you figure out your beliefs, and what matters most to you in the end. I’ll open your mind to the truths you keep from yourself, no matter how long it takes.”
He leans in and kisses me, tasting of smoke and smelling of musk; I shudder as his lips press softly to mine. How can he kiss me so tenderly and not mean what he says? He may want me to be something I’m not sure I can be, but he cares for me—this I know for sure.
“You’ll accept my guidance?” he asks after our kiss.
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
“Good,” he says, lifting me to my feet. “When I’m not busy conquering Earth, I’ll be training you.” Giving my ass a playful slap, he adds, “We’ll see which proves more difficult.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vol
Although Redeemer could enter the Earth’s atmosphere completely cloaked, today I want the world to see where we’re going and what we do. Our descent starts over their Pacific Ocean, but at hypersonic speed we reach the Asian continent quickly. The sonic boom caused by our ship can be heard for miles as we pass by, announcing our presence.
It doesn’t take the humans long to calculate our trajectory and determine our course to be the nation of Dimirsk and its capital city, Berygrad. Watching the human news channels, I see my ship over a map of the planet, updating in real time. Ever since we struck Al-Quansa, the humans have speculated about our next targets, other terrorist groups and criminal cartels topped the list, but some predicted we might set our sights on dictators like Ivan Vasail.
A ruthless tyrant, Vasail has long been known to run his nation for his own personal profit, starving the populace and silencing any opposition. Grinning to myself as we fly over snow-covered mountains and forests, I wonder what Ivan’s been doing since the Dominars first reached Earth. Has he known his number would be called; has he been hiding in his bunker, dreading the day Redeemer set a course for Dimirsk? What a colossal shift in the scales it must be. For years he’s been unstoppable, as no one would challenge him and risk another world war; he no doubt assumed he’d remain dictator for life. In interviews I’ve seen, he comes off as cavalier, laughing off questions of human rights abuses and election tampering.
I try not to ever think of my work as fun, but in this case I can’t help relishing how satisfying it will be to send Ivan Vasail to Cetaski—or worse, Vakhsa—with nothing but the clothes he wears and a small pack of supplies.
They see us, Hallyx informs me through the nanites.
At the center of the bridge, I turn around and open up a holographic map of Dimirsk. Redeemer is a few minutes from Berygrad, but launching to intercept us are a dozen surface-to-air missiles.
The last time humans attacked me, the world was not yet aware of the Dominars’ arrival—only my people and the American military witnessed the skirmish. Now, however, the entire world watches. At our combined speeds, the missiles will reach us in less than thirty seconds. This is more than enough time for us to hack their guidance computers and disable them completely, but I have a better idea.
Let’s give them a show, I tell Hallyx. Destroy the missiles.
With pleasure.
Particle beams lance out at the missiles, all spaced one second apart. We could have fired them all at the same time, but that would be too quick. This way, the humans get to watch as Ivan’s missiles detonate in midair one by one.
Sir, they’ve launched fighters.
Four jets register on the display, streaking toward Redeemer in an intercept pattern.
Really, Ivan? Four?
I wonder, is that all he could muster to fly against us? Perhaps his pilots have gone into hiding to avoid participating in a likely suicide mission. This is what happens when you oppress your people, instead of inspiring loyalty.
Fortunately for these pilots, my disdain for Ivan Vasail does not extend to them, and his jets pose less threat to us than a falling leaf does to a mountain.
I give the command myself, triggering the ejection systems on all four jets. With all of the pilots’ parachutes safely deployed, I remotely control the jets, activating their weapons systems. Smiling with glee, I fire four rockets simultaneously, one from each jet. With all four of the rockets targeting a different fighter, the planes explode in the air within seconds of one another.
Got anything else, Ivan?
Watching the news coverage, I see videos of the explosions, of the pilots landing on the ground and endless pundits discussing the events as they occur.
Hallyx, decrease altitude to five hundred feet and cut thrusters to cruising velocity. Give them a good look at us.
We’re only a few miles from the center of Berygrad; we’ll be on top of them momentarily. Zooming in on the holographic map, I focus on the Dimirsk capital palace. Scans show dozens of tanks lining the streets, while civilian automobiles begin to evacuate the city.
Briette, take over their traffic control systems. Keep it from jamming up.
Yes, sir.
I don’t expect there to be any human casua
lties on this mission, but if people want to leave the city, so much the better. Considering the tanks open fire on Redeemer the second we’re in range, the Dimirsk military is clearly not just going to roll over.
Jillian, how are you doing?
She’s in her quarters, watching the footage from her cage. I know she’s not going to be in any danger, but can’t help wanting to check in.
I’m fine. Are you going out there?
Yes, but don’t worry. I’ll be okay.
Come back safe, and soon, sir, she replies.
I will.
Thinking about Jillian makes me want to delay my mission for an hour or two, just so I can go have a little fun with her, but I have my duty. She’ll be waiting for me when I get back.
Shells fired from the tanks burst harmlessly against my ship’s shields. Bullets sizzle as they melt, falling to the ground as steaming drops of lead. They may as well be flicking frozen peas.
Disable the tanks, I command Hallyx. Use the force fields.
On it, sir.
As the world watches, the long cannons on the tanks start to bend, curl, and crumple; then the belts of their treads snap, immobilizing the vehicles. Though the television cameras can’t tell, the drivers and gunners are watching their electronic systems fail, rendering the tanks powerless. After a minute, they stop firing, and Redeemer lands in front of the capital without a single life lost.
It’s a good start, but the mission isn’t over.
The second my squad disembarks, machine gun fire opens up—Ivan’s soldiers fire at us from cover. Bullets smack against our armor, melting and scorching the ground. Even snipers’ rounds can’t get through our gear. My men and I march in a line, taking potshots at the soldiers with stun bolts.
We’re coming, Ivan, and there’s nothing you can do.
As we reach the palace, the soldiers grow more desperate, lobbing grenades at us. Another Dominar commander might fling the bombs back to the soldiers who threw them, but we simply let them explode at our feet. The blasts aren’t even powerful enough to singe our armor.
Striding through the flames and debris unscathed, we return fire on the palace guards, knocking them out faster than they can drop their weapons in surrender. We stun everyone we see, even those who get down on the ground with their hands raised. Nanite scans will reveal later on which of these men worked for Ivan out of duress of desperation, and which were willing participants in his regime. The former will be freed—the latter will join Ivan on his voyage across the Milky Way.
Analyzing the structure of the building reveals an elevator shaft that reaches twenty stories deep underground: Ivan’s bunker.
Let’s go, I tell my squad, leading us there.
Amused by human technology, I press the button for the elevator, enjoying the tactile sensation. When nothing happens, I push it in and hold it, but still there’s no result.
It’s been disabled, notes Briette.
Any way to restore power? I ask.
You would have to rewire their system. It would take a few minutes.
Nah, I’ve got a better idea.
I direct a force field between the elevator doors, then spread the field outward, forcing the doors open. Stopping before the open shaft, I gaze downward, then leap in.
I gain so much speed as I fall that I punch right through the ceiling of the elevator car at the bottom of the shaft. My suit absorbs my momentum with ease, and after a second the rest of my squad lands behind me.
We’re coming, Ivan.
Instead of using force fields to open the lower doors, I simply kick them down. Unsurprisingly, the humans inside the bunker fire on us immediately. My squad and I make short work of them. Though I’m glad to be close to my mission’s objective, it saddens me that so many of the humans are still attempting to stop us. Are they more afraid of disobeying Ivan than they are of angering us? Or do they really not know that we’re here to help?
Either way, it only takes us a few minutes to fight our way through the bunker, scanning as we go to make sure we’ve stunned everyone.
Only one human appears to be left, Briette reports. Adult male in his thirties, in a room to the northeast.
Vasail. It must be him.
Thank you, I reply. Heading there now.
Walking slowly in the right direction, my combat boots pound the floor, filling the corridor with the sound of my squad’s inevitability. At our destination, I find a door marked Command Center, so I knock.
“Ivan Vasail, we know you’re in there. You’re trapped. No one is coming to your aid. Surrender peacefully, now.”
“Fuck off, Vol!” he says, speaking through the building’s intercom system. “I have six nuclear missiles prepped for launch. Leave now, or I’ll fire them. Each will devastate a major city, and the blood of millions will be on your hands.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
One punch flattens the door to the command center. Ivan sits in an executive chair, holding onto a remote control with a single button. Above him, several monitors show he wasn’t lying about the nukes: all six of them are waiting for the command to launch.
“You’re finished, Ivan,” I say as my squad fans out, pointing their weapons at the dictator. With clear skin and thick, dark hair, he’s not what I normally expect to see out of powerful dictators; he’s young, only thirty-three. His face is a mask of rage and disbelief, and I doubt he often makes idle threats. “This is your last chance,” I say.
“No, it’s yours,” he replies, keeping his hand on the trigger. He speaks with confidence, as if convincing himself he can’t lose. However, he’s never stood face to face with a Dominar before. Instead of reacting, he stares at me as I march up to him and grab the control right out of his hand. Then, as Ivan watches, I press the button myself.
Gasping, he turns to the monitors, expecting to see the launch sequence commence. Instead, error messages flash on the screens, blinking red and black as the missiles stall in their silos.
“It’s over, Ivan,” I say, tossing the remote aside. “It’s been over since we got here.”
Glowering with an intensity I’m sure must have scared his subordinates, Ivan reaches behind his back, pulling a pistol from a hidden holster. He moves quickly for a human, but not fast enough: my squad peppers him with stun bolts, dropping him like a bag of bricks.
Well done, I tell my squad. Hallyx, send in a retrieval ship to collect the prisoners. Briette, scan all their written and computerized records, then use nanites on Ivan. Locate every political prisoner in Dimirsk and identify all of his enforcers.
Yes, sir, they both reply.
Looking at the dictator’s unconscious body, I smile, satisfied by today’s mission.
That’s one down…
Chapter Fourteen
Jillian
For the next few weeks, Vol divides his time between me and the invasion. When he’s not training me to listen, learn, and serve, I spend my time watching endless news coverage of the Dominars and the effects of Vol’s interventions. Parades march through the streets of countries like Dimirsk, celebrating their freedom from men like Ivan Vasail. Criminal activity plummets when Vol sweeps through Central and South America, apprehending drug lords and burning drug manufacturing facilities to ash. Though most of the world still waits to see what the Dominars do next, Vol’s bloc of supporters grows every day.
Of course, a person can only watch so much news, even in the midst of the most captivating events in all of recorded history. Vol requires me to stay in my cage less and less, mostly just to sleep. I can walk around Redeemer on my own, though there’s not much for me to do on the ship. Still, it’s an alien spacecraft—I could wander around for days and not run out of interesting things to see. Even just staring out a window at the Earth fills me with wonder. The planet looks so majestic when seen from space—of course the Dominars want it.
I also begin spending time with Briette when Vol’s not around. We dine together, introducing each other to different cuisines. S
he may have an entire galaxy of options, but even Dominars have favorites—at least that’s one thing we have in common. I let her talk a lot when we’re together, hearing about her many loves and adventures. She tells me about the Dominus, a massive space station that serves as the Dominars’ capital and orbits Ohalessa, a planet engineered to be a paradise—they both sound amazing, and I realize that while I love Earth, I’d like to see these places someday. In fact, I want to see the whole galaxy—who wouldn’t? There’s so much out there!
But, as much as I enjoy my time with Briette, I always wonder if she’s testing me. If I complain about getting punished, for example, will she tell him? With Vol, I always know where I stand—but it does keep me on my toes. I’m becoming more disciplined, which is the whole point of my time with Vol.
So as the weeks go by, I’m making progress and earning freedoms—and through it all Vol remains a reliable lover, friend, and teacher. I’m always happy when he returns from his many planning sessions and operations. Sometimes he just takes me straight to bed, while at others we’ll talk for hours. Today, he asks me to meet him in the Redeemer docking bay.
“Come along, pet,” he says when he sees me. He points us toward a very long, small ship; sleek and silver, it looks like a needle. “Let’s go for a little ride.”
Grinning, I board the craft, letting Vol guide me toward what must be the cockpit, though there are no visible controls. He pulls me into his lap, and the ship blasts out into the void.
I scream as we soar into the atmosphere, moving so fast through the sky that the clouds rush by. Vol grins, presumably controlling the ship with his nanites. We fly lower over the ocean, our speed creating a deep wake even though we’re well above the surface.