Sentenced to Brood: Prologue
Warmaster Crotak has been the terror of the sector for decades, but he and his crew have finally been captured. Sentenced by a perverted Councilor, they will be punished in a way they could never have imagined.
Hey all, this is a story I've been working on for a while now. Set in the Tyradon Verse long after the events of Alternative Treatment, and much heavier on the mpreg, impregnation, and belly kink. This story is rated extreme for content and profanity.
“Three weeks of no prey, and then the universe decides to smile on us." Warmaster Crotak crooned at the display in front of him. Behind him his wings fluttered in anticipation; fine black fur gleaming in the red light.
He was quite large for a Tyradon, standing head and shoulders over most of his crew. Scars and burns littered his midnight fur and were displayed with pride. mementos from a childhood on the streets of Vantage Prime.
“Not just a Banto ship, but a diplomatic liner…." Graneth, his second in command muttered.
Said liner was already at maximum burn, struggling to keep away from the advancing Predator-class corvette that leisurely closed the distance, savoring the chase.
Crotak looked down at his raiders from his place on the catwalk.
“You hear that boys? We've hit the jackpot! Squishy Banto diplomats for us to ransom, and more fat merchants for us to have some fun with!"
Raucous cheers answered him. His boys sure were bloodthirsty today.
He smiled toothily.
“We takin' slaves again captain?" One of the younger ones almost pleaded. He was pretty sure the last slave that one took had only lasted a few days.
It had been a while since he had a tight hole to fuck…eh why not, as Warmaster he got his pick first.
“Only if you boys can keep from filling 'em with your bullets first!"
A few catcalls and groans answered him.
“Guess we'll just have to shoot 'em in the parts that dont kill' em too fast." one of them muttered and Crotak chuckled lightly. A man after his own heart.
“Captain…"
“What is it this time Graneth?" Croltak sighed as he turned back. Grumbling Graneth, ever the pessimist.
Graneth's verdant eyes were narrowed at the display. “It's strange that there are no escorts…a ship like this should have at least four-"
“Give it a rest Graneth!" Croltak rolled his eyes and stalked over to the display. He spread his hands and gestured sharply.
When the image magnified he pointed at a large brown streak burned into the hull of their prey.
“That's what happened to your escorts…looks like we're not the first group trying to nab this one, must be someone valuable!"
“But Captain, a shot that size should've vaporized -"
“Enough Graneth! I am Warmaster here!" Crotak roared, wings crackling with electricity in a threat display.
“Unless you want to challenge me?" He added in a soft growl, moving deep into his second's space and staring down at him.
Graneth averted his eyes from twin pools of molten gold. He knew he was no match for Crotak. Hell, no-one in the damned crew was, that was why he was Warmaster.
Graneth's silence was enough for Crotak and he moved back to the command center, wings twitching. Irritation simmered under his dark fur and he growled lowly.
“Helmsman! I think we've played with our food long enough! Bring us closer and above them!" He felt the answering acceleration before the dampeners smoothed it out.
“Weapons, when you get a shot, I want you to take out their engines!"
Crotak stared down the younger Tyradon as he added.
“Only their engines this time! We don't want to try and ransom a hunk of dead meat again now do we?"
“No captain, and yes captain, only their engines!" The younger male responded, delicious fear ringing his voice at being singled out.
“Good!" Maybe once he made up for the colossal fuck up that was their last job he'd lay off the kid.
With one last glance at their target he gave his boys below a bloodthirsty smile before jumping. His wings unfurled, electricity trailing along the top and bottom edges and a gust of air slowing his fall.
“Raiding parties, get to the armory, we have some killing to do!"
Crotak rolled his shoulders after he fastened one of the last pieces of his armor. Suiting up was like coming home.
Every time, he felt that rush of adrenaline and anticipation at the next chase, the next victory.
Around him raiders were laying out weapons on various surfaces, checking and double checking them.
His favorite sidearm Fleshrender seemed to glow in the dark lighting, just as eager as its master to send a few more souls to the hells. With a fond smile he holstered it.
His trusty shield, cut down from a high grade reactor bulkhead, lay on the table in front of him. Few members of his crew could lift it one handed, let alone wield it in battle.
“Captain?" Graneth held out a large piece of armor meant for his wings and Croltak nodded sharply, folding his wings tightly against his back so his second could fasten the armor over them. Behind Graneth, another raider did the same for his second.
His first raid was decades ago, but he still remembered the fear, the anger as his fellow raiders were torn apart in hails of bullets. But more than that he remembered how it ended, the exultation, the feeling like he was untouchable as he and the surviving raiders killed everyone on that ship and took everything that wasn't bolted down.
And the party after that…..well it was probably a good thing none of that crew would admit to remembering it.
The winnings from that raid were used to commission his armor, modeled on the visage of an ocean wyrm. Made so every spineless and weak little alien he set eyes on would stink of fear.
After a moment he grimaced and put the helmet on. What a joke, reminiscing before a raid like this…was he getting old? He scoffed.
A slight hiss filled his ears as the suit pressurized. Icons flashed across his vision as the diagnostics finished. Everything was in the red. All good.
*CCS Judgement's Claw, 30 light minutes away *
“The ship matches all known records sir."
Admiral Zolnek leaned back in his command chair, humorless gaze locked on the bane of his existence.
A corvette like Red Morning by all rights should've been destroyed or captured long ago, but it's captain was a wily one.
They never attacked near patrols and stripped their victims with an efficiency that could almost be admirable if it wasn't for what they did to their victims. Death was usually a kinder fate than survivors would have in store.
But was so vexing was that near sixth sense that crew had when it came to avoiding capture. Without fail they would raid ships and disappear into the void just before patrols came looking, leaving scenes of horror and misery wherever they went.
So now he had been ordered to try something suggested to them by their allies. A honey trap that would be made to look like a target too tempting to resist. All the while a net was prepared just out of sensor range.
Just following through with this kind of plan set an itch under his fur. He wanted to chase them down and blast their ship apart like a true Tyradon. Laying traps felt like he was admitting weakness, that the pirates were better than him!
But his orders were absolute. Capture the dread pirate Crotak and his crew, or destroy them if and only if they were escaping.
To that end the Admiral had the distinct pleasure of hosting a council envoy as an observer, to make sure he followed their orders to the letter. His tattered reputation and job hinged on this mission being successful.
“Our interception forces are in position?"
“Captain Elgnoth says he will be in position within ten minutes."
“He should've been in position five minutes ago!" The admiral seethed. If that lazy rot-brain ruined this operation he would find a way to demote him down to recruit!
The boarding pod only seemed to be moving for seconds before their harnesses lurched at the impact against their target's hull.
Within three seconds Crotak released himself smoothly, standing ready at the head of the pod.
“Alright boys; You know the drill! We head for the bridge! Graneth's pod will take out their reactor!"
With a shriek of tearing hull the pod doors opened to blaring alarms. Blue and green emergency lights flashed as Crotak threw himself out into the cramped corridor with a wild laugh.
“The pirates have breached the decoy, boarders are now making their way to the trapped corridors." One of the admiral's technicians reported.
The signal from their decoy was quite strong. Disguised as a distress call, it was instead providing the task force with information on every move the pirates made.
“How long until they reach them?" He demanded. He hated this waiting game. Every second was another chance for something to go wrong.
“The reactor team will reach theirs in a minute, the bridge team a few minutes after that."
He wished that they could have set the traps all over the ship but those damn penny-pinchers in Logistics had balked at covering an entire liner's corridors in high grav plating.
Still, his analysts had assured him that laying the traps deeper inside the ship would make a rescue by the pirate corvette impossible.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers irritably as the seconds crawled by.
Suppressive fire from the defenders rang against the thick metal of Crotak's shield even as Fleshrender sang in rapid bursts.
A shiver of something close to arousal moved through him as he mowed down four of the defenders. This was what he was made for! Killing these weaklings was doing the universe a favor!
And yet it was only a few disappointing minutes later that the fight was over. Even the alarms had been shut off, the silence leaving him empty. Crotak stared at the dead bodies of their prey, feeling cheated.
“Tsk, barely worthy of being called a fight." Crotak muttered before checking his pistol's charge and re holstering it. His tail lashed side to side in agitation.
He looked behind him to see if they had any dead and nodded at them in approval. His boys did good work.
As they moved on, none noticed the traces of metal and circuitry in the remains of the defenders.
“The reactor team has been captured, grav skitters are now sedating them."
“Good, how close is the bridge team?"
“They seem to have slowed down a bit sir! We estimate two more minutes."
“Status of their fallen?"
“First aid bots have already stabilized them sir, we will collect them after the bridge team is sedated."
“Good; hopefully they won't destroy too many more decoys or Logistics will skin us alive."
He checked the positions of his force and nodded to himself. All ships were finally ready for interception should the corvette try to run.
“Send the signal to all ships to close in and engage the Red Dawn, their boarders are too deep now for a rescue."
“Confirmed! All ships releasing broad spectrum ECM and closing in."
Crotak was getting annoyed at the chase. After that first fight he wanted more, Elders damn it!
And yet any time they caught a hint of their prey the damned cowards would run, laying down suppressive fire and retreating to the next hall. He had already lost two raiders to this damned maze of a ship. A small line marred the vision in his helmet where a lucky shot cracked the ceradiamond plate.
And here they were in yet another featureless corridor, though at least this one had some decent cover to advance through. He held the line with his shield while his boys kept the pressure on their opponents. And like clockwork they all abandoned their firing line and ran, leaving their dead behind.
He couldn't shake the feeling something was off here…
With a snarl he pushed himself after the damn birds. Graneth wasn't even here and his words were still feeding his paranoia.
Behind him his boys were flagging but doing their best to keep up with the pace.
This whole damn raid was infuriating! It was supposed to be a simple kill and snatch; Why wouldn't these damn little birds just stand and fight him like he wanted?
A prickle of unease went through him as he realized he hadn't heard from Graneth yet, was his second having the same problems getting through this maze?
After a short pause to check the corridor ahead they moved forward. They had to find the bridge, it felt like they had been in this ship for hours already even though he knew it had only been fifteen minutes at most.
He took another step and suddenly felt like his armor was being crushed into his chest. Gasping, he and his men collapsed forward as the gravity in the corridor spiked to five times what their bodies were capable of dealing with.
“What-" He gasped out. It hurt to talk, to breathe. This had to be grav plating of some kind. If he could just damage it…..
He tried to reach for his pistol only to groan in misery as the gravity spiked higher, flattening him to the ground. His muscles screamed in protest as he tried to look around, to move. Of all the ways for him to die, this was it? A damn gravity trap?
A low hum sounded in the corridor. He tried to lift his head again but couldn't move a muscle, agony like fire seemed to crawl across his body.
Faint skittering sounds came to his ears but he didn't know what they were. His heart pounded as the sounds grew closer and closer. They had to be right on top of him by now, why couldn't he-
The high pitched whirring of a drill sounded and he felt something penetrate his armor's air exchange. A hiss came from behind, the world swam around him before his hold on consciousness faded.
“All 67 pirates accounted for, sir. Forty three crew on their corvette, twenty four among the boarding crews.“
“Any dead?" He hoped not, the council had wanted all of them for some reason.
“Yes sir, two deaths on the corvette and several dozen injuries both among those aboard the corvette and their boarders."
“A few will need better medical facilities than what we have on board to recover."
The Admiral couldn't care less about medical care for Elder damned pirates, if they died en route then he wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
“Very good , please inform the Council of our success."
He leaned back and felt some of the tension drain from his body.
“Helm, set course for Vantage Prime."
“Yes Admiral."
Vantage Prime, deep underground.
When he woke up Crotak found himself in what looked like a boundless cavern. A massive dais faced him, seven chairs chiseled into cold marble sitting empty. Vast stone columns wide enough to hold ten of him glowed in the distance with blue-green light while faint sounds of dripping water eased the empty silence.
Something about this place was tickling his mind, he had heard of it before, but where?
Crotak took stock of where he was sitting. Seven thick chains binding his seven limbs were bound to ancient stone, his uncomfortable seat roughly hewed yet smoothed by age.
His golden eyes widened in realization. This was the Chamber of Judgement! The place where the first council of the seven tribes unified!
Eyes glowed with wonder as they drank in everything they could. He had never expected to see this place for himself.
It took hours before the faint sounds of conversation reached him.
“-this horrific punishment!" a heated voice roared.
“-sing all available resources." A second voice, silky and soothing answered the first.
It was then he saw them, seven Tyradon, five males towering over two females. Each was dressed in intricate shimmering robes that cost at least as much as his beloved Red Morning.
The councilors stalked into the room from an ancient crevasse, each staring at him as they passed.
Most with hatred, one with fear, and the last with an evaluating expression that made him feel violated somehow, as if his soul was being peered into.
Behind them were five male Tyradon in the deep red formal robes of the council guard and armed with ceremonial claws.
The seven marched up the stone steps, settling into their respective seats while chattering with each other. Three guards marched behind the bound pirate, one directly behind and the others on his left and right flank. The other two stood below the council and watched Crotak with indifference.
Huh…Who knew little old me would get the Council's full attention? He mused internally.
He must've really pissed them off if they were the ones that were going to pass judgement on him. Usually that was left to the lower courts.
The last to ascend was the creepy one, staring at him with an expression that appeared to be satisfaction and something else that made him feel like he was being served as someone's meal.
Several other councilors were watching the last with neutral to uncomfortable expressions. What was going on there? He wondered.
“Warmaster Crotak, do you know who we are, why we have brought you here?" Creepy questioned him.
“Not a single idea, though I have a feeling I'm about to find out." He answered irreverently, smirking as both of the guards in front of him tensed slightly.
Nothing to lose at this point, might as well have some fun at their expense before they killed him.
The Councilor looked down at him in disdain.
“If the accused wishes to say nothing in his defense then he shall be silenced."
One of the guards darted forward, something glinting in his claws. He stepped up to Crotak, staring at him dispassionately before fastening a metallic gag over his mouth. Crotak snorted in amusement. That one had no sense of humor.
The speaker nodded approvingly once the guard returned to his position.
“We are the seven limbs of the Tyradon Combine, the seven Councilors who protect and serve our people."
As one the Councillors stamped their feet three times, the meaty sound of flesh on stone reverberating around the cavern a chorus to the affirmation.
Sevak waited for the echoes to fade before continuing.
“My name is Councilor Sevak, Councilor of Justice and I will speak for the Council on this day."
“Crotak, Warmaster of the Red Morning, you and your crew have been found guilty of grand piracy, destruction of at least two thousand one hundred and thirty three vessels, significant participation in the slave trade, property damages totaling millions of Combine credits, and the deaths of tens of thousands of ship borne non-combatants."
“We the council have determined that there is no redemption for your crimes. You and your crew are a blight on civilization, and must be removed for others to prosper."
“After much deliberation, we have sentenced you and your surviving crew to live out the rest of your days imprisoned on a moon orbiting our newest colony, Xelonia prime."
“There you will be punished with a technology that forces male Tyradon to bear eggs, replenishing the life that your actions destroyed."
Satisfaction oozed from the Councilor's voice, as if a long held plan was finally coming together.
Crotak lurched under the chains as he struggled to understand what the councilor was saying. They were turning him and his crew into fucking aug breeders? What the fuck was this trial? He thought they would just kill him and be done with it!
“This is our decision, and we do not make it lightly, but we feel the gravity of your crimes merits equally grave retribution. May the souls of those lost to your actions find peace in your own suffering." Sevak intoned.
“Guards, sedate the prisoner for transport."
Crotak struggled wildly, straining against the chains that held him so tightly. It was no use. Within the span of seconds, three red robes reached him, two of them holding his head tightly in place while a third took a syringe from his robes and sprayed its contents up the pirate's nose.
The disorientation was almost immediate. Crotak felt like his limbs were out of his control, the room spinning rapidly. It was only the chains holding him up now.
The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was Councilor's Sevak's anticipatory stare.