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Shifting Diplomacy

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Deep Roots

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Disclaimer

The following product contains the following key ingredients:

69g of man-on-man sexual interactions (Manisol)

101g of men transforming into Orcs (Tuskerium)

50g of muscle growth (Bulkmax)

99g of male genital growth (Coxnballian)

55g of tentacles used in sexual acts (Nipponix)

43g of musk play and male odours used in sexual encounters (Smelliboi)

Warning: do not take Shifting Diplomacy: Deep Roots if:

You are under the ages of 18/21, whichever is considered a minority age in your region.

Are allergic or not fond of the above ingredients or the taste of semen.

If you encounter trouble breathing, increase in hormonal activity, profuse sweat production, anal discomfort, genital stiffness or ‘strange new feelings’ while taking this product, please consult your doctor immediately or go masturbate. Please do not masturbate while consulting your doctor unless they’re into that in which case you may have to contact the authorities.

Stay safe!

Fun Fact: Originally it had been Garok that had been flagged to stay with the Marines through the adventure but after developing Poldak, I just loved his character and couldn’t just dismiss him like that. So he got promoted from secondary character to primary!

Prologue: The Green Way

New variable introduced to overall operations: personality and personal interactions.

Analysis of personality types and personal backgrounds/histories required for success of overall mission.

Unique individuals synergising with hosts could increase possibilities of success

Warning: conflicting personality types could lower success factors

******

Corporal Ivan Narosklic played a triple role on the GTFC Spear of the Shattered. As one of the five shield operators that cycled shifts on the bridge, he was in charge of ensuring that the Spear’s protective shields were healthy. In these times when the shields were the only thing protecting the Spear from an invasion from the Orcs and potentially keeping them from being ripped apart by the huge Orkish Homeship cannons, he and the four other shield operators were crucial to the ship. His second role was as an engineer and went hand in hand with his job as a shield operator. If one of the shield emitters became faulty, it would be his job to get into the bowels of the ship to fix it. The last of his roles was simply as another of the Marines. He was combat trained so if he had to fight, he could.

Yet that wasn’t exactly special for the Marines. Each Marine was trained to be able to fill multiple roles. It was just that Ivan thought that since he was one of the only five people who knew how to work the shields, he’d be treated with a little more respect or reverence. At the very least, he would be considered for promotion.

But no.

He was stuck as a lowly Corporal and mostly ignored in the hallways of the ship.

Hell, even that what he wouldn’t give to be considered ‘special’ like those meatheads from the 79th Marine Reserves that got chosen for some special assignment and got turned into lupine supersoldiers. Why couldn’t he have been chosen for that?

“That’ll all change today,” he whispered to himself.

Right on cue, he flicked a few buttons on his console. An alarm immediately blared on his screen, warning of a shield breach. The others on the bridge immediately turned to him and he waved down their concern.

“Probably one of the sensors going on the fritz again,” he announced. “Says there’s a hole the size of…” He leaned down, pretending to scrutinise the data on screen. “… a fist on the underside of the ship. I’ll go fix it.”

No one said anything else. They knew that a small hole like that was impossible. The Spear’s shield emitters covered a good fifty metres each and having a consistent hole like that was likely a sensor issue. None of them ever thought that it would be sabotage… because Ivan was basically invisible. Keeping his head down and shuffling along, he left the bridge and made his way to about halfway down the ship. With his utility kit by his side, he approached one of the maintenance doors and swiped his pass. With a beep, he passed into the bowels of the ship; all pipes, wires and rather cramped spaces. Here, there were no monitors or cameras.

And it was here that his destiny would change.

As he delved deeper and deeper into the ship, he got closer to the outer edges of the hull where the sensors were placed. Normally, someone wouldn’t have to go down this far or if they did, they would have to approach it from the outside but since no one was allowed past the shield given they were in an active battlefield, engineers like himself had to resort to crawling through the wires of the Spear. Thankfully, the Spear was designed with small ‘engineering stations’ that could fit maybe ten men as they worked on various systems. He entered one such station which was nice and close to the outer edge of the ship. It wasn’t hard to find what he was looking for; it was a small console with a large dial on it.

The shield modulator.

Quivering with anticipation, he typed in his access password and a single command. Then, he turned the dial to the left. The sound of a machine powering down - a soft metallic moan - filled his ears. Now there really was a hole the size of a fist in the shield. That noise was quickly followed by the song of rushing sand and he turned towards the far end of the station. A black-green haze streamed in from one of the ventilation shafts. That stream of spores struck the ground and quickly began reforming. Ivan licked his lips as the huge, naked Orc appeared before him. Even green, possessing tusks and far hairier than before, there was no mistaking his friend and fellow engineer from the GTFF Critical Assailant, Shouji Mimasaka.

“Glad you came through,” Shouji rumbled, grinning broadly, his bright green eyes shining like stars in the dim light.

“So long as you keep your end of the bargain, man,” answered Ivan, stepping forward. “You promised.”

The huge Orc that had once been a much smaller Marine, grinned brightly at him and lifted one of his arms, curling it behind his head and showing off the thick bush of black hair beneath. “Of course, dude. Like I said, you’ll be a fucking hero for doing this. You saved the Homeship.”

It was a little odd that Mimasaka would suddenly have loyalty to an Orkish Homeship. In fact, he had been surprised when he had received a secret communication from his friend who had served on one of the crashed ships. Over the past few hours, Ivan had talked directly to Mimasaka who had told him how great the transformation felt and how he could be a hero in the eyes of the Rootchief if he just lowered the shields and allowed the Orcs into the cruiser. There was some sob story about how the Homeship was starving and they needed the cruiser’s warp drive to bring them someplace where there was a lot of resources but he didn’t care about that.

All Ivan wanted was recognition and this was the only way he was going to get it.

Closing his eyes, Ivan took that last step forward and buried his nose into Shouji’s pits. The sweaty hairs tickled his face. The strong, musky, earthy smell invaded his nostrils, drowning out his doubts. For a second, there was a flash of panic. This was more than was Mimasaka had promised. He felt this eruption of emotion in his chest, like a deep longing for a distant lover and that lover was the Rootchief Donduur Da’makur; a man he knew he had never met but he had become inescapably tied with.

But it was too late for Ivan Narosklic.

He opened his eyes, his irises glowing a bright, fluorescent green.

The screams and cries of his fellow crewmates as the other Orcs invaded the Spear made him grin.

Control of Home

In-depth analysis of subject Poldak Lodaan.

Prime physical specimen due to years of rigorous training as one of the Homeship’s elite guard.

Genetically rare with red hair present in only 7.6% of the population.

Highly capable with a charming personality but a penchant to learn only through physical strain and activity.

******

“What are you doing here?” Burke asked as he appraised Garok. The last time he had seen the young Orc, they were about the same height - with Garok being a little shorter - and was comparatively smaller in terms of muscle mass than the rest of the Orcs they had met. One could say he had the lean, muscular build of a professional bodybuilder by human standards.

But now… Garok was a beast.

The grass-green flesh all over Garok’s body was stretched taut by the bulging muscles all over his body. A sinewy, corded neck was completely swallowed up by his traps, making him look like he had a hunch. Those slopes led to broad, muscles shoulders that led into wide, muscular biceps, each as big as watermelons and thick triceps that were nearly twice as big that they framed his biceps very well. A whole system of veins curled up from his broad pectorals, over his deltoids, across his upper arms and down into his forearms where they crawled over the back of his massive hands. The Orc’s torso was a perfect ‘T’ shape; enormous pectorals like the canopy of a tree that were supported by a trunk separated into eight perfect segments. A pair of GTF blue and grey camouflage military pants wrapped around his enormous legs, every muscle group perfectly defined through the stretchy fabric that was already strained trying to keep his impressive bulge contained. Those pants could barely make it past his broad calves which eventually led to his big, bare feet. The blonde hair that decorated the Orc’s chest, arms and head added a cute contrast against the green skin that reminded Burke of the Orc’s youth.

Completely ignoring the fact that Burke and Poldak were covered in cum, Captain Farwood said, “He is my source that I was telling you about.”

Adding to Burke’s embarrassment, the captain stepped inside quickly followed by the Marines of the 79th Reserve. Burke tried his best to hide his modesty by grabbing one of the pillows and placing it over his crotch but just seeing the hunky Garok and coming fresh from a session with Poldak stirred the urge to have a taste of the blonde Orc. He was fairly sure he was already starting to soak the pillow with his precum. It didn’t help that Wildstorm gave him a knowing smirk as they entered; like his dad giving him a proud accolade while mom was scolding him.

“It was a little before Rootchief Da’makur began the siege against the Spear,” Garok said, his voice much deeper and more confident compared to the meek, almost whispering tone he had taken previously. “I had seen what the Rootchief was doing to the other people and as one of the first to have been given this gift, I was a little more skilled with it. So I raced over here and warned the Captain of what the Rootchief intended.”

“And not a moment sooner,” Farwood said, clapping Garok’s shoulder appreciatively. “Had it not been for this kid’s quick, brave actions, we would never have been able to erect the shields as fast as we did and we would have been overrun by Da’makur’s shock troops.”

So that was how the Spear had managed to remain mostly unmolested. Though it was still pinned to the Homeship, its crew was still human. It was all thanks to Garok. The kid was a lot braver than he had imagined.

“Young Garok had given us a briefing on the Rootchief’s activities up until he left and had been the one to help us repel any potential incursions,” Farwood continued. “He was also the one that told us what Da’makur was after.”

“You mean he isn’t after making you all his sex slaves?” Sire asked. If that was a pointed jab at Burke, it was very well hidden. Sire could very well be referring to what Gilles did at the arena.

“No,” Garok responded, shaking his head. “He wants the Spear’s warp drive.”

Wildstorm had already suspected as much back on the Nascent Dawn but it was good that those theories were confirmed. After seeing what Da’makur had done to Gilles and what the fallen Captain had subsequently done to his own crew and any survivors of the Fallen Winter, Burke had started to suspect that the massive Orc had sought to break the humans and subjugate them under Da’makur.

“You can see why we can’t let him have it, don’t you, Lieutenant?” Farwood asked.

Burke nodded.

The Orcs were now incredibly infectious. If Da’makur somehow managed to get a warp drive working on this Homeship, he could easily cross the galaxy and start systematically taking over every single system. They would just be like another version of the Karn Imperium only green. Perhaps even worse given the size of each Homeship and the arsenal it brought.

“There are some other things you should know about Da’makur as well,” Garok chimed in, his brow furrowing in worry. “You may have noticed how most of the Orcs under his command have these glowing green eyes?”

Burke had noticed though he hadn’t really paid it much heed as he had assumed it was just some part of their mutation. Garok certainly didn’t have that unearthly glow; his eyes remaining a light green. Poldak’s were still a deep brown, almost black.

“I was wondering about that,” Doctor Ross Carmichael admitted. “I had thought it was some sort of the luminescent mutation. What does it signify?”

“The Rootchief has found a way to ‘embed’ himself in the Orcs that he forces into his will,” explained Garok worriedly. “When we transform someone, usually we enter their bodies through any orifice and then our spores start changing their body from within into an Orc. We then pull ourselves out of them so that we can move on. However, Da’makur purposefully leaves one spore within his victim’s brain. This spore, while not powerful on its own, acts much like a…” Garok struggled to find a word, twisting his lips in thought. “… like a transceiver. It forcibly aligns the infected with the Rootchief’s ideals and thoughts. While they are different people and have different personalities, they are programmed to believe what the Rootchief believes and to automatically agree with him.”

“He brainwashes them?” blurted Stitch. “No way man! That’s fucking insane!”

It wasn’t completely brainwashing but more like a way to ensure compliance. The victim becomes instilled with a compulsion to be loyal to the Rootchief. When Garok spoke with many of the victims, they described it as a need to protect the Rootchief and the Homeship because it was like they were part of a bigger organism, part of Da’makur - both the ship and the Orc. The infected could resist it, of course, but that resistance would eventually be whittled away as an almost obsessive need to be of service to the Homeship took over.

Garok, now seated on one of the unsullied beds, wrung his hands. “Those with stronger wills can resist for longer but as more time passes, the Orcs under Da’makur’s command are refining their techniques to break their victims before they are changed.”

“Just like what we saw at the arena,” Happy chimed in. “Captain Gilles was fighting the men and beating them down before he turned them.”

“Break the body and the mind will follow,” agreed Sire. “That must be why when Mimasaka was being transformed, the Orc inside of him make him cum a few times before eventually turning him.”

“One of their more popular techniques,” agreed Garok. “The transformation gave us a new appreciation for the pleasures of the flesh and most Orcs would much prefer to experience that sensation with others.”

“What about breeding?” asked Carmichael. “Is infection of others the only way your species can now reproduce?”

The Orc shook his head grimly. “That I am not too sure of. I do know that Victor Reyes has made the nurseries in the Trunk his base of operations and there are rumours floating about of Orcs being produced there. No one knows what is happening. We haven’t been able to infiltrate it as of yet.”

“And what about your father?” Burke asked. “Sporekeeper Varrin seemed like a vocal opponent of Da’makur and Poldak mentioned that he was some sort of leader against the Rootchief?”

Garok nodded. “My father continues to oppose Da’makur and the other Sporekeepers who had fallen to him. He has gathered as many Orcs to him that are willing to listen and has set up a clinic of sorts for those who have been infected by Da’makur’s Orcs and are actively trying to resist him. I fear that it will only be a matter of time before he is overrun but my father was able to create a modular frequency for some kinetic barriers that prevent the passage of Orc spore clouds.”

“That is how we’ve been keeping the Orcs at bay so far,” explained Captain Farwood. “Garok was the one that gave us the technology. Our problem is that we will not be able to maintain this course forever and if Da’makur wants to, he could storm this place with sheer numbers alone and he will have his warp drive. We need a strategy.”

The captain nodded towards the Marines under his command and the two began handing out datapads; thin metal pads with a holographic film on them that allowed the display of information. “The Spear of the Shattered is currently held in place by four Gravity Screws. These bastards have ripped open our hull and we can’t just tear them out and make repairs. If we do, we’ll still have a gaping hole in our hull and if the Homeship’s cannons open fire, they’ll tear through our hull and destroy our shields.”

“Then that’ll be the last thing holding back the vacuum of space,” concluded Burke. “Not to mention the Orcs will probably be on full alert and try to storm this place.” He scanned the plan outlined on the datapad. “So you want us to rendezvous with Varrin’s troops and see if we can disable the Gravity Screws on the Homeship’s side. Varrin will try and disable the cannons and when the cruiser is out of range of the cannons, we’ll reconvene and try and try and take back the Homeship from Da’makur.”

“Are we sure that’ll even work?” Sire asked. “Even if we take down Da’makur, won’t the Orcs under his command just riot and come after us? We wouldn’t be saviours. We’d be the guys that killed their king.”

“I honestly do not know,” Garok sighed, hunched forward in exhaustion. “This is all new to me. There’s an equal chance that they will tear into one another trying to become the next Rootchief or they will lay down their arms. Remember, there are other Sporekeepers currently under Da’makur. What I am hoping is that some of them will realise the futility of the fight and the fact that the Spear of the Shattered could bombard the Homeship from a distance while they are arguing and they will surrender.”

“Are you willing risk your entire Homeship for that gamble?” Burke asked.

“We are Orcs,” Poldak answered firmly. “Every few generations, we must make a new Homeship and often times we must leave one for the other because of how fast we reproduce. Da’makur is just a hunk of metal that has become inhospitable to us. If it comes to that…” He turned his gaze towards Farwood. “… I am hoping you will allow us temporary refuge until we can find better accommodations?”

Farwood nodded sagely. “We Marines were trained to move around in small fleets that can even consist of a single ship in deep space for months on end. The company is welcome. Orcs are well known for their resourcefulness so I’m sure that were it come to that, you’d be more than capable of pulling your weight.” The captain offered a wry smile. “Maybe even make some improvements to the old girl while we’re at it.”

Poldak and Garok bowed in thanks to the Captain. Their moment of gratitude was interrupted, when all the lights in the room suddenly turned red. An alarm began blaring. Burke was instantly on edge as the screen of the datapad was plunged into an emergency message.

‘Orcs on the ship’.

For a second he thought it was just someone being overly sensitive and racist or maybe one of Poldak’s men had gotten lost and encountered someone who hadn’t gotten the memo that they were guests. Then screams erupted from the main barracks. Panic shot through his system and, ignoring the fact that he was still half-hard, he dashed towards the balcony, pushing the doors wide open and nearly vaulting over the railings.

“Oh fuck no…”

Green-black fingers of spores came shooting out of the ventilation shafts, plunging straight into the unarmed and unprepared recently rescued Marines on the barracks floors. As second later, the very doors leading into barracks burst open and several muscled, cum-soaked Orcs with tattered Marine uniforms came bursting in. They erupted into clouds of spores, plunging into the throats of anyone around them. Panicked and still weakened from their recent incarceration, they stood no chance as the spores plunged into their systems, their cocks came bursting out of their pants; big green and many times longer and thicker than any human could ever possess. Their first orgasm left them covered in their sticky cum and dazed in shock but it was the subsequent ones that knocked all sense from them and allowed the Orcs to turn their flesh green, their muscles into gargantuan fleshy bowling balls and even the least hirsute ones amongst to them grow copious amounts of body hair.

“What in the hell!?” Farwood shouted, appearing right beside Burke.

The cry must have attracted some of the Orcs below them several jets of spores came launching at them. On instinct, Burke stretched out his tentacles, all four of them pointing at the approaching spores. Jets of opalescent, white, sticky liquid came shooting out of each of them, seemingly collecting the spores as it passed and dissipating the swarm.

“Ingenious!” exclaimed Gene. “Your all-purpose fluids can collect the spores and disrupt their cohesiveness. Poldak mentioned that so long as the spores are kept from one another, the relative intelligence of the cloud is severely reduced!”

Burke had already grabbed Farwood and was dragging him back into the executive suite, yanking his pants which - up until that point - had been hanging around his thighs, over his cock. “Thanks Gene. Find us a way out of here!”

“Processing.”

Burke grabbed his MAW-14 and slung it over his back. The rest of the Marines seized their own weapons while Burke pushed Farwood into the arms of the Captain’s own bodyguards. Poldak and Garok were on their feet, muscles bunched and their veins popping, a telltale sign that they were prepared to jump into spore mode.

“Over 70% of the ship has been compromised,” Gene reported. “The pathway through the barracks is extremely dangerous and I doubt you will be able to cross it without becoming infected. There is one option though.”

“No time to pause, Gene!” Burke snapped, pressing a button on his MAW to switch its weapon mode. “What is it?”

“The wall to your right leads to a currently unoccupied corridor. If you blast your way through it, you should be able to make your way to the nearby escape pods and get off the cruiser.”

Farwood suddenly seized Burke’s arm, pulling the shield modulator towards him. “I’m not leaving my ship and my men like this. There must be a way to save them.”

“I am sorry, Captain Farwood. As best I can tell, the Orcs had been waiting for this and knew where to strike. They first struck in the barracks where other Marines were sleeping and invaded their minds and bodies there. Since they were asleep, your Marines had no means to defend themselves against the Orcs and they were turned into Rootchief Da’makur’s troops. Their numbers bolstered, they have started invading the rest of the ship.”

“The warp drive!” Farwood barked. “What about the warp drive?”

“Scanning…” Burke nodded towards Firman who immediately went towards the nearby wall with his multi-tool. A welding laser burst from the tip of the handgun-shaped weapon and he began tearing through the metal. “Based on my scans, the Orcs that are invading the majority of the ship have not yet made it towards the warp drive though there is another contingent rapidly approaching from the docks. They have large machines.”

“They’re a distraction,” breathed Burke. “They’ve torn down the ship’s defences and now they’re going to rip the warp drive right off the Spear!”

“Like hell they are!” barked Farwood.

With a loud slam, a huge circular chunk fell away from the nearby wall. Just as Gene had predicted, there was an empty hallway beyond. The sound of rustling sand brought their eyes back towards the balcony. A cloud of spores slipped past the railings, reforming to become two huge Orcs, bright green eyes glowing with nothing except unbridled lust, cocks dripping like waterfalls. The two let out a ferocious roar and charged forward. They didn’t get more than two steps before they burst into spores, charging straight towards the gathered group.

Burke flung around and pulled the trigger of his enormous gun. Blue fire erupted from the muzzle of his MAW-14, the flames shooting out in a focused jet that quickly turned red as the heated plasma reacted with the air. The spores couldn’t veer away fast enough. Most of them were engulfed, falling to the ground in a glimmering rain of red embers. The rest of the spores retreated, writhing in the air. Burke could almost swear he heard the Orcs screaming. He turned the flames from his weapon towards the nearby beds, setting them alight. The sheets immediately caught fire. That would give them enough cover to prevent the Orcs from getting close.

“Go! Go!” he barked, waving for his Marines to head into the opening. “I’ll cover you!”

Farwood, alongside his Marines, rushed into the hole Firman had made barking orders into his communicator. Burke kept his gun angled out at the barracks and he shuffled through.

“Lieutenant,” began Gene. “I have a theory.”

“Hundred words or less, Gene!”

“The Orcs erupt into spores as their primary form of attack. Those spores’ movements could potentially be hampered be moisture in the air just as your flames can burn them.”

“Your point?”

“If I can trigger the fire suppressant systems of the Spear_, it might prevent the Orcs from utilising their spore cloud forms.”_

He glanced over his shoulder at Farwood. The Captain gave him a nod.

“Do it.”

“I need one of you to plug into the system so that I may interface with the ship.”

“How?”

“Your tentacles act like a neural interface to any objects available. I just need you to place one against any part of the ship and I will do the rest.”

Stitch, unfurling his tentacles, announced. “I’ve got it!” The white-furred wolf jammed all four of his tentacles into a nearby wall with enough force to bend the metal. The young Private shuddered, gritting his fangs together. “Oh… Oh fuck… It’s like… it’s like I am the ship!”

“Interfacing complete!” Gene cried. “Activating fire suppressant systems… Now!”

A faintly red mist came shooting out of ports hidden in the walls. The fire-retardant mist was designed to ‘suffocate’ any open flames without getting into the delicate machinery that kept the ship working. It smelled faintly of lemon.

“We need to get to the warp drive,” Farwood shouted as Stitch pulled his tentacles from the walls. “We can’t let those bastards have it!”

The ship suddenly shuddered and a loud creaking noise echoed through the walls.

“The Orcs have started boring through the hull,” Gene announced. “They are at the engine room where the warp drive is kept. I advise getting to the escape pods and leaving now. Chances of preventing the Orcs from retrieving the warp drive is a minuscule 4%.”

“We still have to try!” Farwood shouted. He yanked a plasma pistol from his hip holster. Burke was hit with a bit of nostalgia; Warner preferred to wield plasma pistols as well. Though he preferred to use two at the same time even though most experts would say that actually sacrificed accuracy and stability. He had to physically shake his head and slung his MAW-14 over his shoulder before he could push aside the ghost of Captain Warner. He reached for the plasma blade that Firman had given him, yanking it out of its scabbard. It surprised him just how well the weapon fit his paw. Firman really outdid himself crafting these weapons.

“We’ll cover you!” he announced. “Wolves! Shields up! We protect Captain Farwood at all costs!”

A big green hand suddenly seized his arm and for a second, his heart stopped only to restart again when he realised it was Garok. The blonde Orc’s fingers danced across the screen of his shield module. There was a moment when the faint, shimmering blue sphere around him shimmered.

“I’ve configured your shield to be resistant to Orkish spores,” Garok declared. “It won’t last forever but it will give you a minute of sustained attack from the Orc spores. Not so good against conventional weaponry, though.”

He smiled at Varrin’s son and nodded in appreciation. “Gene, can you reconfigure all of our personal shields to the same?”

“Of course. Reconfiguring now. Also uploading the most direct route towards the warp drive to your module as well.”

He turned and nodded towards Farwood. The still-human Captain returned the gesture and led the way, bolting down the wide hallway. Garok and Poldak hung back near the middle of the group while Wildstorm and Stitch - who had the heaviest load out covered the rear. Sire and Happy were near the front beside Farwood and his remaining two Marines. Doctor Carmichael and Firman who were more equipped for support were near the middle right beside Burke.

Lasers and gunfire echoed throughout the hallways only interrupted by the frequent roars of Orcs. Every inch of Burke wanted to dive right into the thick of the battle and try and save as many Marines as he could but he had to focus on the mission. If the Orcs got the warp drive, the galaxy could have another _Karn-_level threat on their hands. He didn’t want to be responsible for that.

Farwood suddenly came to a grinding halt, his plasma pistol raised. In front of them were three large Orcs dressed in the ragged clothing of Marines.

“This is your Captain! Stand down!”

One of the Orcs grinned at him, flexing the huge muscles on his arms. “We serve the Homeship and Rootchief Da’makur!” All three instantaneously burst into a cloud of spores.

“Down!” Wildstorm roared and everyone immediately hit the deck, pressing themselves against the metal floor. Red-hot bullets screamed over their head to the rhythm of Wildstorm’s whirring chaingun. The spore swarm curled and writhed as the bullets streaked through them, burning spores on their way. Chainguns were notorious for being inaccurate but the spore clouds made such big targets that every bullet struck at least something. It was hard to gauge damage but for the moment, the clouds had stopped their advance.

Then, a bolts of lightning streaked past Burke’s left ear. He glanced back at Firman whose lightning gun was still crackling with electricity. Designed to fire concentrated beams of lightning at long distances, the lightning gun was a weapon designed to stun and not really deal that much damage. That said, it had a unique effect on the spore-shifted Orcs. The blue bolt of electricity smacked into the spores, streaking through the entire cloud and bringing to mind the image of a thundercloud. The spores seemed to lose cohesion, drifting down to the ground like a cloud of dust that was just starting to settle.

“Interesting. It seems that electricity is also a critical vulnerability when the Orcs are in their spore form.”

“Good to know!” Burke exclaimed and vaulted to his feet. Farwood was just a step behind him and charged through the stunned spores, their stomping feet brushing past the dust.

The Spear suddenly lurched towards the right.

“The Orcs have breached engineering. They have reached the warp drive.”

“We don’t have much time!” bellowed Farwood. “Move it!”

The Spear shook and shuddered. The cries of the Orcs grew louder and louder with the gunfire fading as the Spear began to lose more and more of its men to the contagion. Burke was starting to think this was all futile but just as he was about to voice his protest, they erupted into engineering. They emerged into one of the platforms that overlooked the entirety of the engineering section of the ship, a ladder and some stairs leading down into the depths of the twisting pipes, towering reactors and convoluted metal pathways.

“No…” breathed Sire.

A gaping hole had been torn right through the side of the Spear exposing the docks and the horde of Orcs perched there. An enormous crane with a mechanical maw shaped like an Orc with particular emphasis on the lower jaw had stretched into the cruiser. Its massive jaws were wrapped around the black sphere that crackled and oozed with warp energies.

“No!” Farwood cried.

A spore cloud suddenly blasted past his left, sweeping up his Marine and carrying the poor man down into the mess of wires and pipes. Before any of the wolves could react, another cloud slammed into the other Marine, lifting him up into the air and carrying him kicking and screaming all the way to the docks where the Orcs happily converged upon him.

Farwood dropped his plasma pistol.

“Captain!” Burke cried. But he was too late.

A geyser of green-black spores erupted from beneath them, tearing right through the metal. Farwood simply vanished into the storm.

“Run!” bellowed Carmichael. “Gene! Find us a way out of here!”

“Done! Turn around and take the first left!”

Burke was left stunned and instincts took over. He whirled around, fleeing from the sight of another Captain being torn away from him. For the second time, a senior officer had been taken by a corruptive alien species while he just ran. He couldn’t do anything to save either of them. This stung more than the first, however, since he hadn’t been ordered to run.

He just ran.

Where was his honour? Where was his pride? Where was his courage?

The floor around him shook and before he knew what was happening, he was being pulled into an escape pod. The vaguely cylindrical pod could barely fit all of them but Stitch and Happy managed to seal the pod shut and slam a fist against the launch button. He was slammed hard against Poldak’s chest as the pod broke free of the Spear of the Shattered and rocketed into the air, streaking back towards the Homeship.

The GTFC Spear of the Shattered, one of the proud Marine vessels of the Galactic Terran Federation crumbled. The enormous hole in its rear set off a chain reaction of explosions. The massive engines erupted into the flames. The shockwave rippled through the rest of the ship, triggering smaller explosions. A fiery crack appeared down the middle of the ship. Another burst of fire split the two halves, sending them crumbling off into different direction. Clouds of spores like a dark, sickly miasma hung over the ship as the Orcs and newly transformed Marines made their escape. A few escape pods managed to veer away from the ship but the Orcs on the docks were already chasing them down. The flaming debris crashed into the docks of the Homeship to the triumphant roars of the Orcs. The fire-retardant spray that had streamed throughout its interior helped kill the flames before it could do too much damage. The Orcs on the pier split into two groups; one carrying their trophy - the warp drive - back towards the Homeship and the other charging hungrily into the wreck of the cruise looking for any stragglers.

And so, the GTFC Spear of the Shattered was destroyed.

Fruition

Warning: Da’makur forces have retrieved the warp drive of the GTFC Spear of the Shattered

Access to warp technology allows for the Orcs to have unprecedented access to the galaxy

Running pandemic simulations.

******

Ross Carmichael knew that he’d be involved in some military activity when he joined the GTF research teams but he never thought he’d be transformed into a space werewolf or get shot out of an exploding cruiser in a cramped escape pod. The world had shaken and twisted as the Marines and their Orc friends cried out while they were being tossed around wildly. He vaguely remembered Garok shouting to steer the pod somewhere but he couldn’t quite make it out. Some part of him wished he was back in his bio-pod on the Nascent Dawn.

The shaking eventually stopped and when Ross next regained consciousness, he was being pulled out of the wreckage of the pod. The air was acrid with smoke and fire and he sported a few scratches and cuts that stung. He was surprised when Stitch pulled him aside and began applying some of the opalescent cum-like substance onto his wounds. Still too dazed to question what was happening, he watched as the squad medic deposited some more of the semen into his paws and began rubbing it over Ross’ wounds. To his surprise, the pain was soothed by the cum. The goo began to seep into his flesh like an intelligent mass, vanishing into his wounds and seemingly closing the tears on their way.

“When did you learn that?” he asked.

“It was something you said,” Stitch said with a wry smile. “It’s a multi-purpose substance, right? Like we’re constantly secreting highly-concentrated, programmable stem cells. I thought that it could be used to help patch up all our injuries and Gene confirmed it.” He patted Ross’ arm with his white paw. “But I kind of lose control of it a few seconds after it enters your body. You’ve got to control it from there.”

He was a little puzzled what Stitch meant by ‘control’. Then he noticed the rather large gash on his left leg and how the cum Stitch had deposited there hadn’t moved much. Narrowing his gaze on the pool, he felt a strange… connection to the seed; like it was another muscle he could flex. On a whim, he mentally commanded it to fix his wound. The goo squirmed and writhed and began melding with his flesh, turning from the white substance to muscle, flesh and fur.

“That really is amazing,” he breathed wearily. “I wish I had more time to study it.”

“One day at a time, doc,” Stitch said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve got to see to the others. Just keep… erm… cumming on yourself and patching up any other wounds.”

A quick glance around and he noticed the rest of the Marines were applying some of the miracle goo to themselves. Wildstorm had some rather nasty burns on his back, seemingly sealing one or two of his tentacle orifices. Stitch moved straight to him and began applying the cream on the towering, grey wolf’s back. Poldak was getting his arm creamed on by Happy while Firman and Burke were sifting through the wreckage of the pod. Sire was standing guard. Garok sat a short distance away from him, resting against a nearby wall.

He hobbled towards blonde-haired Orc, seating himself beside Garok.

“Do you know where we are?” he asked.

Garok nodded slowly. “Yes. We are in the Prime Nursery within the Trunk. I asked Sire to bring us here.” Garok hissed softly and Ross gently turned him on his side. There was a small cut on his back. It wasn’t bleeding but it was one of those nasty cuts that was deep enough to leave a mark and be irritating but not deep enough to draw a lot of blood. Curious to use his own seed, he pulled a tentacle from his back and angled it towards the wound. A little squirt, no more than a few drops of seed, burst from the tip and he gently kneaded it into the wound with two fingers in slow circles.

“What is the Prime Nursery?” he asked.

“It is the biggest Nursery in all of the Homeship.” Garok’s eyes were set forward, the dying embers reflecting off his focused, green irises. “Da’makur has the warp drive now and knowing him, he’ll want to bring it directly to the council chambers. The Prime Nursery has the fastest and most direct route straight to the chambers. If we can get there fast enough, we can intercept the drive before he integrated it with the Homeship.”

Ross pulled his fingers away and watched for a second in awe as the wound closed up, vanishing against the green skin as if it had never been there.

“Have you given any thought to what will happen if Da’makur is defeated?” the doctor prompted. “Most of the Homeship is under his command…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Garok answered with a grunt. “I don’t know if all the people who are implanted with his seed will just break free or if one of them will just rise up to be the next Da’makur but what I do know is that he must be stopped.”

Ross nodded grimly and rose to his feet, offering his paw to help the young Orc up. It was amazing just how much Garok had grown up in the short time since they had first met and when he awakened in this new Homeship. A pang of guilt struck him. Had his actions inadvertently robbed this young man of his youth? Did Gene’s misguided attempt to uplift the Orcs plunge many youths like Garok into a war that they had no reason to fight? What happened to the Orcs who were not yet mature? What did Da’makur do with them?

He shuddered at the possibilities but his shaking was interrupted when Garok grabbed his paw. Lifting the Orc up to his feet, Garok gave him a firm nod and strode towards Burke.

“Lieutenant!” bellowed the Orc. “We’re in the Prime Nursery. There’s a tram that will take us directly to the council chambers where we can -”

“I really do wonder what the plan was here,” came a voice, booming from somewhere around them. “Did you want to crash your little pod into my Nursery in the hopes of disrupting my operations? Was the plan to do a kamikaze run that would ignite the reactors beneath the Nursery and detonate some sort of chain reaction that would cripple the entirety of the Homeship?”

Wildstorm and Firman exchanged glances before the grey wolf spoke. “That voice… I recognise it.”

“Reyes,” growled Firman, breaking his usual silence.

“Captain Victor Reyes?” Burke repeated. “How do you guys know him?”

“Just to let you know,” continued the mocking voice, “I had the reactors fully secured. It would take a destroyer to punch through its defences. A reason you didn’t even get through one floor. Orcs really are quite industrious and resourceful when they aren’t so focused on fucking and fear of starvation.”

Wildstorm shook his head slowly. “I don’t really know how… but when Firman and I were… Were in Gilles, it was like we same some of his memories. Our tentacles were in him and it was like we were plugged in to him. We saw what he saw and we saw and heard that voice.” He pointed upwards. “Reyes was already an Orc when Gilles got turned. He was all over Da’makur like a fucking whore.”

“I don’t know what the traitors told you,” boomed Reyes. “But it was a bad idea coming here.”

Burke hefted his MAW-14 in one paw and easily drew his plasma blade in the other. “Wolves! We move!”

Garok immediately snapped to attention. There was just an aura of command from Burke that he couldn’t help but obey. Alongside Poldak, the two Orcs burst into their spore cloud forms. The world became a grainy greyscale portrait of reality. Some of their scientists mentioned that it was likely because their spores didn’t really have accurate receptors and couldn’t process light. What they ‘saw’ was what little their spores could process as a whole. The Marines charged over the wreckage of the escape pod while their two Orc escorts curled and twisted above them, dancing between the hanging vines of the Nursery. They were a whole minute ahead by the time Reyes’ Orcs arrived at the escape pod.

More than enough time to get away from the blast radius.

Happy pulled a hidden switch on his wrist-mounted console.

BOOM!

The escape pod’s self-destruct mechanism erupted, a burst of flames barely visible down the hallway but powerful enough that it shook the entire building.

“Clever. Now I don’t know if you did that on purpose as a trap or if you decided to go out in a blaze of glory but I will find you. I won’t let you disrupt my experiments!”

Experiments? Why would Da’makur - a notoriously xenophobic tyrant - give Reyes free reign even if the former Captain had been transformed into an Orc? Even when the humans have been turned into Orcs, Da’makur still treated them like cannon fodder and second-class citizens. To put Reyes in the Prime Nursery and give him the opportunity to perform ‘experiments’ was out of character for the Rootchief.

Just what was going on here?

The Marines suddenly ground to a halt. They were peering into one of the wards, muzzles open in shock. In their cloud form, Poldak and Garok couldn’t hear anything though they could sense vibrations in the air that sound made. The Marines were speaking in hushed tones and some were even growling in disgust. Garok lowered himself towards the floor-to-ceiling viewing window only to jerk in the air. He immediately began to rematerialize, placing a hand against the window. It took for his eyes and other sensory organs to reform before he finally believed what he was seeing.

“What horror is this…?”

There were Orcs pinned to examination tables in what should have been one of the delivery wards in the Nursery. There were seven of them, each enhanced but all incapable of moving thanks to the metal restraints that held down their wrists, ankles and torsos. Long, metal arms were hanging from the ceiling and had clamped themselves onto each of the Orcs’ nipples. There was a device clamped into each Orc’s erect penis, a tube of some sort that was connected to a pipe that led somewhere else into the facility. Just as Garok was beginning to wonder why they didn’t just transform into spores, bolts of electricity erupted from the clamps on the Orcs’ nipples. All seven men screamed, a mixture of pleasure and agony, and their balls churned. Their cocks spewed a river of cum which was immediately siphoned up the pipe.

“Are they…? Are they harvesting their cum?” Happy asked, approaching the window. “Why?”

Wildstorm appeared on Garok’s other side. “When we were interfaced with Gilles, Da’makur came on him. Reyes and another Orc entered the Rootchief and he came all over Gilles. He started transforming then and there. It was almost instantaneous.”

“When I uplifted the Orcs,” Gene began, worry marring its voice, “I found that their luzdar, their birthing lubricant, was somewhat messy and a great vulnerability. When an Orc is impregnated, their testicles and penises inflate to sizes where they are basically immobile until they enter labour in which case, after they give birth, they are incapacitated in a state of perpetual orgasm for three days. From an evolutionary standpoint, that is a critical vulnerability since, for six days, they are vulnerable to attack.”

“Hundred words or less, Gene,” growled Burke. “What did you do?”

“I changed the composition and process of their reproduction. It would require two or more Orcs to enter the ‘parent’ Orc’s body in their spore form where they will proceed to mix and match their DNA through the catalyst which is the parent Orc’s semen. The semen itself is a highly concentrated form of the parent’s stem cells that would ultimately provide a blank slate for the mixed DNA to map and program. After an appropriate incubation period, the parent will orgasm and release his seed which will then reform into an adult Orc after some time provided they are constantly fuelled by more Orkish semen.”

Carmichael waved a paw through the air. “Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me that instead of getting Orc children to form as embryos inside their parents, you made it so that the parents cum out their children as goo and those kids will then reform over a matter of months into Orc children as long as the parents keep cumming into them?”

“Not children, Doctor Carmichael. Fully grown Orcs.”

Ross grasped the sides of his head with both paws and threw his head back, barely keeping in a a shout of frustration. For a supposed embodiment of their universe, Gene was so painfully naive that it made him wonder if their existence was indeed doomed. He took a few deep breaths, fighting to calm himself. It worked and he pulled his claws away from his skull. “Gene,” he growled, “do you realise that you not only shortened the Orc’s maturity period but also gave them the tools to reproduce much faster than they had before?”

“I did not think that would matter considering they would now have the ability to control when they would reproduce. The Orcs were constantly plagued by the ability to reproduce uncontrollably but now that they can decide when they want to produce a child, it seemed fitting that they would not be crippled for weeks due to impregnation and would simply have to continuously supply a fledgling Orc with their semen to ensure their offspring grew to maturity. This would be a simple hour at most out of their day instead of spending days bed-ridden because of swollen genitals.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Gene,” Poldak said gravely and slowly. “I understand your intentions and from an outsider’s perspective, I can understand how you may have considered what you did as an improvement but you must understand that we Orcs developed to take pleasure in the birthing process. From the moment we are sexually mature, we would not experience the bliss of orgasm until we gave birth. In which case that would be three days of uninterrupted ecstasy before we went back to our daily lives.”

“I did take that into consideration when designing the optimised Orcs. I had full access to your memories when you were being transformed so I knew this and reforged your biology with that in consideration.”

“Then how could you have missed the fact we are now fully capable of reproducing non-stop and experiencing the sweet fruit of childbirth over and over again with no rest in between?”

Carmichael looked at the poor Orcs pinned to the tables in the ward. The screams and roars of the Orcs took on a more sinister and sad edge. These were not prisoners. They were volunteers who were likely doing whatever they could to orgasm and produce the materials required for their multiple children to grow into big, strong warriors for Da’makur. In a bizarre way, this was a Faustian Deal based on what Varrin had wanted. Parents were now more closely tied with the development of their children. It was very likely that some of their seed would indeed feed into their children but so would the masses of the others. Each Orc was being milked to feed the growing army of the Rootchief.

He grimaced as a tube began emerging from the ceiling, moving towards the Orcs’ gasping mouths. Those tubes pushed into the open gullets, clamping down and likely feeding some nutrient slurry to ensure that the Orcs were well fed and maintained. The red wolf turned his gaze away but as he did so, he found himself staring into another ward where seven more Orcs were electrified, their cum shooting up the tubes and no doubt into the Nursery.

“We need to destroy this place,” he growled.

“You would be killing hundreds if not thousands of unborn Orcs!” Garok protested.

Surprised at the young Orc’s objection, he turned towards the Orc and said, “These are Orcs mass produced for slaughter! There’s no guarantee they’ll even be made aware or educated! They might just be born, fully grown and latched onto the same machines that once fed them! Some of them might get trained to be warriors for Da’makur but just looking at the atrocities Reyes and Da’makur are willing to go through in their conquest, I wouldn’t put it past them to breed soldiers out of this!”

“But they can still be saved! If we just free the Orcs here, those strapped down and unborn, we can rebuild the Homeship!”

Still naive after all.

“You’re not thinking about this logistically,” he said shaking his head. “Gene, what is the incubation period for an Orc now from the moment of impregnation?”

The alien AI paused for a moment. “From the moment of impregnation, an Orc can orgasm and produce the start of their offspring within the next fifteen minutes. For an Orc to reach full maturity from when they were ejected from their parent, it would take five days provided they have a constant supply of nutrients. If they do not receive this, they will enter a state of hibernation up to a total of a month before they expire.”

Ross held up five fingers. “Five days, Garok. Five days is all it takes before a whole new generation is born. You Orcs at least had a break of two months before you birthed a new Orc and that Orc would still have to grow up for eighteen years before they reached sexual maturity.” He tapped the side of his head. “Think of it. Do the math. Orcs can now be fully grown and ready to fuck in five days. What will that do for your Homeship? For your people?”

Garok’s eyes widened and his brow furrowed, baring his teeth in defiance. “But it is wrong to kill the unborn!”

“Would you rather keep fucking and producing more and more mouths to feed until your infrastructure can no longer support them and starve or end this now and stop a slow painful death later on? I know it’s not ethical but we should kill them now before they’re even remotely aware!”

“You mean before they can defend themselves!?” barked Sire, stomping over to flank Garok. “Doc, what you’re suggesting is downright brutal. I’m a Marine. I’ve killed people. Hell, hundreds probably died when the Spear and its escorts were destroyed. You probably saw friends die on McAllister. But this right now…?” He pointed a finger at the ground. “… that’s fucking monstrous.”

“Now listen, Sire,” rumbled Wildstorm, resting a big paw on Ross’ shoulders. “The Doctor has a point here. Even if we dethrone Da’makur and warp the Homeship somewhere with enough resources to see this generation to a long, happy life, we’re setting a dangerous precedent. If we just tell everyone that they can fuck and there will always be food for them, they’ll just have to find new homes and more resources at a faster rate than what they were doing now. We’re not helping them. We’re just hastening their death.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to go out doing something that feels good than slaving away trying to pretend the problem isn’t there?” Happy asked, turning to face Wildstorm and positioning himself to side with Garok. “If people are more aware of the issue, they’ll be more likely to try and find a solution, right? That’s what’s happened with the Orc now. They’ve split off into different Homeships and have tried to find ways to keep themselves from dying off due to overpopulation.”

“That’s not a solution either,” argued Stitch. “Resources are finite and there’s still the Karn. If we just let the Orcs do what they want, there’s no guarantee they’ll do what’s right.”

“Let us?” growled Poldak, stomping over to Garok’s side. “Who says you are here to let us do anything, human?”

Firman positioned himself beside Wildstorm and just said, “Not what we meant.”

It was four against four and there was only a single vote left.

Burke.

All eyes went to the lieutenant who was staring out into the wards, eyes focused like lasers.

“Captain,” Sire growled, eyes still on the opposite. “Yours is the only vote left. What do you think? Do we abort the babies or do we save them and make sure they have a future?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Sire!” spat Wildstorm.

Burke suddenly lifted his plasma blade and brought it down, cleaving a line right through the reinforced glass, the glass glowing bright red and melting in front of him. He smacked the glass with the hilt of his blade, shattering it and causing some of the Orcs in the beds to gasp; it was the first time they noticed the Wolves.

“Our mission is to stop Da’makur,” growled the lieutenant. “We’re not here to argue Orc reproduction policies. So here is what we are going to do.” He turned around, facing the team with a steely gaze. “Sire, take Garok, Happy and Firman and act as a distraction. I want you to go to as many floors as you can and rescue or free as many Orcs as you can. Targets of opportunity only. Don’t put yourself in needless danger. I want you to draw enemy fire.” He then turned towards Wildstorm. “Wildstorm, you, me, Poldak, Stitch and Carmichael are going to find that tram Garok mentioned. We’ll secure it. The moment it’s secure, Sire’s team will rendezvous with us and we’ll make a break for it. If any of the freed Orcs want to come with us, they’re more than welcome. Otherwise, they can take the tram to go in another direction. Are we clear?”

“Why do we have to go with an Orc?” Stitch complained.

“Because we need their expertise to navigate this place. We don’t know it. They do.” That silenced the young Private up. “Now, are there any questions?”

No one spoke.

“Good. Reyes will likely be on us soon. Sire, I’ve gotten you started. The rest of you, you’re with me.” He nodded towards Poldak. “Lead the way.”

The big Orc nodded. “Sure thing, Captain.”

“It’s Lieutenant.”

Death Cap

Simulations complete.

With additional data of mass reproduction facilities implemented by former GTF Captain Victor Reyes, outlook is bleak.

Within one year, assuming successful integration of human warp technology, Orc population will explode to consume an entire galactic quarter.

Under the command of a single entity such as Donduur Da’makur, they will form a sizable opponent against the Endspawn.

Unfortunately, their reliance on sustenance will eventually lead them to losing a war of attrition against the Endspawn.

Viability of Orc offensive against Endspawn: negligible.

******

“I think you wanted to save the kids.”

Burke skidded to a halt and lifted his MAW-14. Blue flames blasted out of the muzzle, dispersing the cloud of spores that had come close to attacking the small party. The path to the tram was riddled with corrupted Orcs but these were Orcs that were not combat trained like the Marines. In fact, Burke was quickly finding that as he wielded his plasma blade and MAW-14 simultaneously, he was growing more and more accustomed to his body. Though he kept his tentacles tucked inside him and didn’t use them for battle, his enhanced strength allowed him to wield the ungainly weapon easily while still brandishing the sizzling blade with ease. One of the spore cloud got close to him and he deftly jumped back, swiping at it with his plasma sword before bathing it in his plasma fire.

Stitch and Wildstorm were the same. The huge, grey-furred Warrant Officer was able to hold his chaingun and deal with its recoil without that much loss of accuracy. Stitch’s eye was always extremely sharp - a holdover from when he was trying to be surgeon - but as a wolf, his accuracy was brutal especially with that sniper rifle. The moment any Orc even remotely began to materialise in front of him, he was there putting a bullet through them. Even Carmichael was making use of his mutations but on a more literal sense. The red and cream wolf unfurled all four of his tentacles and were spewing them at the spore clouds or Orcs, hindering them and slowing them down for the Marines to gun down.

“Not now, Poldak,” Burke growled as they charged down a hallway.

“I’m just saying,” grunted the Orc, grinning toothily. “Beneath that tough exterior, I can tell you’re actually pretty sensitive.”

They had decided to keep Poldak from using his spore form because there was no way to tell him apart from the other Orcs. Carmichael had loaned him the use of his hand cannon but the Orc barely used it in his role as their guide towards the tram.

“Don’t push it.”

The red-haired Orc pointed towards the left. “This way! We can see the line from here.”

Down a left hallway and he could see a hallway with one wall made entirely of glass. The thick lines of the tram crossed the window and beyond that the dark buildings of the Homeship’s Trunk. It was hard to tell if there was any activity in the adjacent buildings as none of the lights were on. There was something to be said that just a few days ago, the city had been alive with activity but now, it was practically abandoned. Burke buried whatever misgivings he had about his role in this tragedy and barrelled down the hallway. His Marines were right behind him.

The doors to the tram station were already wide open. It took him second to recognise the kinetic barricades that had been erected in front of the doors and the Orcs hunched behind them wielding their Screwers. He saw the muzzle flares of the massive guns before he could fully stop. Back in bootcamp, he learned all about how Screwers were insidious not because of their accuracy or even explosive capacity. Screwers literally fired screws at the velocity of a normal bullet and in a spiral trajectory. The force of the impact would have been bad enough but the nature of the screw would dig the projectile further into the flesh and deal even more damage. Now he was going to be peppered by those things. The corpses of those that suffered from Orkish Screwers were not pretty.

A big, grey form suddenly planted itself in front of him and slammed a massive metal shield in front of him. The screws bounced off the makeshift kinetic barrier giving Burke enough time to regain his composure and dash back down the hallway. Wildstorm kept his shield up as they charged back behind cover.

“You know, I had wondered what you think you could possible achieve by freeing all the willing Orcs who had submitted themselves to my experiments for the glory of the Homeship!” bellowed Reyes.

“Shit…” Burke hissed. “He’s back there. How did he know…?”

“Then I realised that this was typical Marine tactics! Splint the group in two. One party acts as the distraction while the other charges towards the objective. The second team secures the objectives and when all attention is driven towards them, the first party hits them from behind! You’re very by-the-book!”

He kicked himself mentally. Yes, it was right out of the Marine handbook, certainly one of the most basic of manoeuvres but it was also the first taught to every officer out of thousands of tactics. How could Reyes have predicted the move and reacted so fast!? Fangs bared, he peered around the corner just enough to catch sight of the barrier and the Orc that had to be Reyes.

The towering Orc was taller than even Poldak but was proportionally skinnier. On the surface, he probably had the same mass as Poldak but because of his height, he looked a little skinnier. Maybe it was the long, white coat of a GTF Captain that he wore draped over his shoulders, evidence of its owner shredding it through growth in the tears all over its form. Unlike the other Orcs, Reyes had kept his black hair short much like the military and it looked like he had tried to shave back his beard and body hair but it was already starting to crawl back in as a thin layer of stubble. He still wore the bracers that were part of a Captain’s power armour meaning he had a personal kinetic barrier around him. Apart from the torn camouflage pants that barely contained his bulge, he didn’t wear anything else.

There were five Orcs fully dressed in heavy armour in front of him, ducking behind the barriers and with their massive Screwers aimed down the hallway.

“Is there another way towards the station?” he asked quietly.

Poldak shook his head grimly. “The other side but we’d have to go back the way we came and that could take too long.”

Given that they were basically at the heart of the Orkish reproduction, there was no telling how long Garok and the others could keep up the distraction.

“Sire,” he whispered, pressing a finger against his ear. It disturbed him that he knew exactly where his ear was despite it having moved further up his head. “What’s your status?”

“Mixed,” rumbled his pilot. “Some of the Orcs here actually want to fucking stay hooked up to this shit! Says it’s the best feeling in the world.”

“Told you,” mumbled Wildstorm.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Some of them shook it off though and are defecting. They got sick of this shit and hated being treated like cattle.”

“I thought the Orcs were vegetarian,” Stitch said. “They wouldn’t have cattle.”

“I think the term they used was ‘crops’ but it’s the same fucking thing. But here’s the thing, Captain, some of those that are coming with us are actually members of the resistance. Brok is here too. He was captured after a raid against their base. Varrin and the others may have been captured.”

Poldak suddenly closed in, his face right next to Burke’s ear. The proximity of the naked Orc made the fur on the back of Burke’s neck stand on end. “What did he say? What about Varrin?”

“He thinks that the Sporekeeper may have been captured,” Carmichael said, pulling Poldak back. “Let them finish.”

“Here’s the other thing,” Sire continued. “The guys in the resistance don’t think that their cum is being used to feed babies.”

Burke’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Then Reyes spoke, his voice erupting across the channel. “You know I can hear you, right?”

Everyone froze and exchanged terrified glances.

“You boys should really switch frequencies. Using the common Marine frequency that every Marine is on is really a bad choice given that I was a Marine as well.”

Burke snarled into his communicator. “If you were really a Marine, then you wouldn’t be doing this kind of shit to your own people!”

Carmichael stepped in. “You wouldn’t be doing this to your own species. What was this even about Reyes? We’re scientists! We’re supposed to be the smart ones! Can’t you see you’re being controlled by Da’makur!? Surely you’ve got the will and intelligence to see through that!”

A sharp laugh erupted from the other side. “You think that I’m doing this because I’m being controlled_? Let me ask you this. How do you think the_ Fallen Winter ‘crashed’ in the first place?”

Burke’s heart went cold as he exchanged glances with his Marines.

“You son-of-a-bitch…” Stitch hissed. “You betrayed your own men!”

“Betrayed them? I made them better! I gave them a greater purpose beyond just patrolling the Orc/human border while there’s a war against the Karn Imperium going on billions of lightyears away! When I saw what the Orcs were capable of, I knew what I had to do. I am the one that taught the Orcs how to infect humans and make them into Orcs. I am the one that orchestrated this plan to get the Spear’s warp drive! It was me! All me!”

Ross Carmichael growled in anger and slammed a fist against the nearby steel wall, causing a sizable dent. “So is this some sort of cliche where you decided that becoming an Orc is the ‘next step in human evolution’?”

“Hardly. Don’t you see what Da’makur and his Orcs mean to the rest of the Orkish race? To the rest of the galaxy? The Orcs can finally be united under a single purpose! Each Homeship is equivalent to a dreadnaught-class starship. Maybe even two! If every Homeship were to rally against the Karn_, the_ GTF could not only fend them off but even push them back and rid them of from the galaxy forever! And my Orcs, my men, would be the ambassadors between this new species of Orcs and the GTF!”

There was a degree of… nobility in that sentiment. At the heart of it, Reyes was indeed a Marine but one that thought about the bigger picture than worried about the smaller details. That was perhaps his failing as a scientist and the thing that infuriated Carmichael. The end did not justify the means. Especially when the means involved hooking up living, breathing Orcs and effectively drugging them with orgasm after orgasm, force feeding them so that they remained alive and pumping their cocks to fuel some dark experiment. Freedom was not worth torture and that level of sacrifice.

Straightening his back, Carmichael strode out past the Marines much to the surprise of the well-armed men. “You have lost your way, Reyes. Not only as a scientist but as a Captain of the Marines and as a man. You’ve lost your humanity. I would rather die than live in a world that was saved by the likes of you.”

“Ross! What are you doing!?” Stitch exclaimed, lunging for him.

Carmichael held up a paw, stopping the young Private. “Gene, scramble this frequency so that only the Wolves can use it.”

Reyes snorted at that. “Do you honestly think -”

Then Gene spoke. “Affirmative. Scrambling now.”

With that, Carmichael stepped out into the open just as Reyes let out an audible cry of surprise. He was sure that Gene had sent a rather painful screech into Reyes’ earpiece. Both he and the AI shared the same sentiment; Reyes had turned a wonderful gift into a terrible instrument of corruption.

“Gene, I’m trusting you,” he whispered softly.

“I have your back, Doctor Carmichael.”

He let himself go slack, at least mentally, but at the same time, he felt Gene take control of his body. Every muscle in his body tensed. Burke and Wildstorm rushed for him but he was already charging towards the barrier. The Orcs were surprised by Reyes’ cry. That bought him two seconds but it was not enough to close the distance entirely. The huge, well-armed and likely well-trained guards lifted their Screwers and began firing. Gene unfurled his tentacles and began shooting wads of cum at the incoming projectiles all the while ducking and weaving faster than he would have been able to do himself. The cum collided with the flying screws, dissolving them before they could hit his body.

He leapt upon the nearby wall, catching his weight on all fours and scrambling closer towards the barricade. Screws bit at his heels. He launched himself at the ceiling, running upside down for a good three seconds while his tentacles spat wads of cum at the Orcs. Since the bullets of white goo were fairly slow and organic, they passed right through the kinetic barriers and slammed into the Orcs’ eyes. The soldiers roared as they were momentarily blinded, giving Carmichael the opportunity he needed to leap off the ceiling.

The red wolf crashed into the middle most Orc. Though the green-skinned warrior was at least three times his size, the impact of was enough to knock the Orc on his back. Carmichael immediately tore off the Orc’s metal helmet and shoved his cock right into the Orc’s mouth. His four tentacles lashed out, diving into the nearby Orcs’ mouths or asses, whichever one was most convenient. All five of his ‘cocks’ immediately shot a bolt of cum into the Orcs’ bodies with a single command.

‘You must cum.’

All five Orcs convulsed and let out deafening roars. They tore at their loin cloths, letting loose their gargantuan cocks. It only took another second before they were shooting their seed in all directions and with enough force that those that were standing were forced to their knees. The shower of Orkish seed showered Carmichael, coating his dark red fur. The creamy goo contrasted against his aquamarine eyes, shining through the opalescent coating to stare straight at a terrified Reyes.

“What…?” gasped the traitor Captain. “H - How!?” Reyes fumbled for the Screwer Pistol on his waist. A pink tentacle beat him to it, snatching it from his holster and tossing it to the side. Reyes staggered back, holding up his hands in surrender.

Carmichael rose to his feet, Gene relinquishing control and letting the doctor make the ominous approach towards the former Captain.

“Sacrifice does not justify results,” Ross growled, fangs bared. “It is up to us as leaders and scientists to be the moral compass for our people. We can’t tell people that they’re doing the right thing if, deep down in our hearts, we know that what we’re doing is wrong.” His tentacles lashed out, snaking across the floor and seizing Reyes’ ankles. With one mighty tug, he yanked the Orc’s feet right out from underneath him. As the former Captain fell, he snatched the Orc’s throat, holding up the man just below eye level. Reyes seized his arm, trying to yank it away. Even though his forearms were at least half the size of Reyes, he managed to keep his grip.

“You know what you’re doing is monstrous. I don’t care if your excuse is that you’re under Da’makur’s influence or not. I don’t care what your motivations were. All I care about is that you made the choice to trick people into letting themselves get hooked to your machines where you treated them like cattle to be force fed and milked!” He yanked Reyes towards him until they were almost nose to nose. “You betrayed your own men! You can’t expect me to believe that each and every one of them wanted to become an Orc! I know Captain Farwood certainly didn’t! Those men that we saved from Gilles definitely didn’t!”

Reyes was about to protest but Ross twisted his head to the side, his claws digging into those cheeks and preventing any words from coming out. “Don’t bother justifying your actions by saying that they didn’t know what was good for them. We don’t have the right to take that choice from anyone. If they choose to be ignorant, we can rationally debate with them not force our ideals down their throats!” He bared his fangs, muzzle wrinkling up in his snarl. “You are no better than the Karn.”

Reyes’ glowing green eyes stared back at him defiantly. “And who are you to speak? Were you not the one that forced himself upon those three Orcs that started this all? Didn’t you force your ‘evolution’ onto an entire species?”

“Yes but I regret it.” Ross’ tentacles loomed ominously over his shoulder. “You don’t. So believe me when I tell you that I’m going to regret what I’m going to do to you for the rest of my life.”

Reyes’ eyes widened. “Wait -”

Before he could finish his thought, one of Ross’ pink tentacles plunged into his mouth, pushing all the way down to the back of his throat and the other slipped beneath his lab coat and jammed itself up into Reyes’ ass. Every muscle in Reyes’ body instantly went tense. Ross knew the scientist was trying to enter spore form to escape but he suddenly found himself with unprecedented control over the Orc’s body. Just one command and Reyes froze up. He shut his eyes, having to focus entirely on controlling two bodies at the same time.

It was sensory overload. There was the pleasure of his sensitive tentacles pumping cum into Reyes’ throat and ass while at the same time feeling how those very same tentacles were warm and slipping and sliding inside the traitor Captain. The dual sensations were mixed with the panicked, racing heart from Reyes and his strangely steady heartbeat, the highly sensitive scents from his nose and the sweat dripping off Reyes’ body. Added to that were the myriad of thoughts that were bombarding him; Reyes’ panic, his own steely resolve, the former Captain’s lamentations of loss and his fear of what was to come.

He had to find some way to deal with it all.

When he next opened his eyes, he suddenly found himself in a vast, black, empty space. His feet were placed on a platform that seemed to be made of glowing red circuits. Across from him, Reyes stood on a platform made of glowing green circuits that pulsed and slithered out from the circular dais the tiny fizzling embers of dying fireworks.

“What is this place?” demanded Reyes, staring at him defiantly. “What have you done?”

“One of the Marines I was with mentioned that when he inserted his tentacles into Gilles, he sort of ‘interfaced’ with him and gained access to his memories. I decided to try the same and took it a step further.” Ross lifted his head, crossing his arms, staring down at Reyes. “I implanted a command into each of the Orcs with you. A simple one that will likely wear off any second now.”

Behind him, a ‘window’ opened in the darkness like a huge TV screen just sprung up. It was coming from Reyes’ eyes. The Orcs behind Carmichael were starting to get up, shaking off the daze of afterglow and their cocks still erect. Before they could grab their weapons, however, the Marines pounced. Burke’s suddenly had his plasma blade against the head of one Orc and his MAW-14 levelled at another’s head. Wildstorm pressed the rotating muzzle of his chaingun against the skull of a third while Stitch pushed his sniper rifle into the mouth of another aghast Orc. The last one was caught in a powerful headlock by Poldak, the mighty Orc grabbing his victim’s cock just for extra security.

“And you chastise me for forcing my ideals on others,” spat Reyes. “You’re no better!”

“I don’t brainwash people,” he answered. “I command them to do one thing for the purposes of self-defence.”

“How is that any different from what I’ve done?”

“Like I said, I regret it. I regret that it’s necessary to get to you. I regret being in this mindspace because honestly, you disgust me. I know I’ll probably have to use this technique again to save my ass but I am going to carry each one like a scar, a sin that I will live with and learn from. It doesn’t make it right which is why I vow not to use it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Reyes threw his head back, letting out a dry, bitter laugh. “You say that now but just you wait and see. You are going to rely on this ‘interfacing’ more and more. There’s no escaping it! You are just like me! Your curiosity will drive you further and further extremes! Knowledge comes with sacrifice and only by making great sacrifices will me obtain greater knowledge!”

“I am nothing like you!”

“Oh no?” The psychopathic Orc grinned darkly at him. “Have you even wondered why I did what I did on the Fallen Winter?”

“You basically spelled it out for us. You released the Orcs and infected your own men.”

“Wrong.” Reyes tapped the side of his head. “Da’makur pretended that there was a plague that had struck his people and he was hoping to let his Orcs onto our ships only for them to start turning everyone. But we were careful. We took all the necessary procedures and quarantined the Orcs preventing them from infecting us. But what I saw in them, their potential, it was absolutely miraculous!” Reyes lifted an arm, making a claw with his hand in Ross’ direction. “Their consciousness was transferred to their spores! They could somehow control the direction and shape of their spore clouds! Nothing like that has ever been achieved before! I studied them. I realised their potential and I was the one that began taking their spores and infecting other people to turn them into Orcs! I was the one that bridged the gap between Orc and human!” He threw his head back, letting out a tremendous laugh. “Yes, I may have sacrificed my body but that is the price for this knowledge! Da’makur would never have discovered how to manipulate his spores the way he did! It was all me!”

Ross couldn’t help but feel utter disgust for this man who would are call himself a ‘Captain’. “That’s what makes me a better scientist. I know the terrible price this knowledge costs and though I am willing to pay it, I am going to find some better way to defend myself. My dependency on it will only drive me need to become stronger so I don’t have to rely on it!” Ross unfolded his arms, staring furiously at Reyes. “But for now, you will tell me what the hell you’re doing with all that Orc seed that you’ve been collecting.”

The traitor Captain shook his head, letting out another bitter laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You’re mistaken. That was a courtesy. I have full control of your body. If I want to, I can extract the information without asking.”

He got a cruel smile from Reyes. “True but then just be as bad as me, won’t you? Either you mentally rape me like you’ve already physically raped me or we stand here in a perpetual stalemate.” The Orc spread his arms, throwing his head back and letting out a bellowing laugh. “You really didn’t think this out, did you? And you call yourself a scientist!”

“I am a scientist and like I said, asking you was just a courtesy.” Ross Carmichael narrowed his gaze. “I don’t need to rip your mind apart to know what you’re doing. I have all the data I need.”

“Then do tell!” taunted Reyes. “What have you deduced, you fucking mutt?”

Refusing to rise up to the bait, Carmichael said, “My friends that acted as a ‘distraction’ saved many of your prisoners. Some of them were prisoners you captured from the resistance. They discovered that there are no babies or unborn Orcs in the facility which runs counter to what the Prime Nursery should be.” He began digging into his memories and even some of those that were shared with the other Marines as part of their hibernation. “Every Nursery also acts like a power plant. The excess luzdar produced by Orcs during birth are pumped into vats beneath the nurseries which, in turn, feed the power plants and agriculture of the Homeship.”

“Now you’re just stating fact.”

The statement was designed to cast doubt and jar his train of thought. That meant he was getting close. He could sense Reyes’ fear. “The new Orc’s semen is basically a concentrated nutrient slurry used to help infant Orcs develop into fully grown Orcs shortly after birth.” He met Reyes’ gaze. “But they can be used for something more, can’t they? What happens if… if a fully grown Orc consumed it?”

Reyes’ eyes widened.

That was it.

“There are only two things that you are loyal two and both of them share the same name. The Homeship Da’makur and the Orc that gave the ship its name; Rootchief Donduur Da’makur. The Rootchief had dreams of grandeur and when he underwent the transformation, he was given a standard form like everyone else. But every Rootchief needs to exude an aura of authority and strength so he has to appear bigger and stronger than everyone else.” He bared his fangs again. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re pumping the Orcs to feed Da’makur!”

The former Captain said nothing. Silence was all the answer Ross needed.

“You’re so far gone…” he growled, shaking his head. “There’s no redeeming you.”

Reyes snarled at him. “Do your worst to me. By now, Da’makur would have had thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of gallons of Orc cum pumped into him. It’s not just the Prime Nursery that’s working to feed him, you know. Even if you disrupt operations here, there are hundreds more Nurseries that are doing exactly the same! You can’t stop him!”

That’s why the Trunk and city was so empty. All the Orcs were being hooked up to these horrendous machines to feed Da’makur.

“We will stop him,” Ross replied firmly. “As for you…”

Reyes scowled at him. “Do your worst.”

The Warp Seed

Probability of success dropped drastically.

Rootchief Donduur Da’makur has been consuming the highly nutritious Orc semen for at least three days.

With the majority of the Orc population acting as his personal resource, it is estimated that his strength far outstrips those of the Primary Hosts.

Recommended action: retreat

******

Happy clutched Brok tightly as the massive, dark-haired Orc hobbled along, one shoulder draped over the blonde-wolf’s shoulders. They rounded the corner towards the tram station which was already secured by his comrades.

“We’re here, Brok,” he panted. “Just a little more.”

“Th - Thank you,” wheezed the battered and bruised Orc.

The story Brok told was a terrifying one. Da’makur’s Orcs had suddenly erupted into their secret base and had not been gentle when they had dragged each of the resistance members to the Prime Nursery to be strapped into the milking machines. Brok and the others fought only to be beaten into unconsciousness and brutally awoken by the pleasure of orgasm. It had been like that for the past few hours since their capture. How the others who had volunteered for this duty managed to remain sane was a mystery. It likely had something to do with the fact that Da’makur likely embedded them with some of his spores to keep them loyal and strong.

As they approached the tram station, Happy noticed that there were six Orcs currently huddled off in the corner, covered in cum and swimming in their own semen. Before he could ask, one of the Orcs woke - an Orc with a lab coat draped over his shoulders. That very same Orc groaned as his flaccid cock suddenly erupted to becoming fully erect. It only took a few seconds before he came, letting out a gagging cry before dropping back into unconsciousness. A moment later, one of the other Orcs woke and similarly orgasmed, again dropping into slumber a second later.

“What’s up with them?” Sire asked as he waved the rescued Orcs into the station.

“Doc Carmichael found a way to subdue them,” Wildstorm asked. “He basically programmed them to cum and pass out from afterglow every time they woke.”

“It’ll only last for an hour,” Carmichael said with a shrug. “Two at most. I simply rewired some of their unconscious neural functions to immediately become aroused the moment they regained consciousness and to ejaculate with little stimulation. I magnified the amount of endorphins and chemicals that are ejected into the body after orgasm which basically acts as a tranquiliser. Their bodies will overcome the programming soon, however.”

“Brutal, doc,” Happy laughed softly, helping Brok hobble towards the tram. He set the massive Orc on one of the seats with Poldak and Garok appearing beside him.

“I am sorry that I could not protect Varrin,” rumbled the wounded Orc. “Last I saw of him, he was being taken by Da’makur’s forces. They didn’t seem intent on infecting him. Merely capturing.”

“Da’makur probably wants to make an example of him,” Poldak snarled.

“Wouldn’t make much sense,” Happy said with a shake of his head. “Basically everyone on the Homeship now has a bit of Da’makur in them. Making an example of the Sporekeeper wouldn’t do much except maybe get his rocks off.” He got some blank stares from the Orcs around him and he grimaced in reply. “Sorry. Too soon. I know.”

Burke approached just as another chorus of ecstatic cries erupted behind him. “Brok, I know you’ve got an intense loyalty to your Homeship but even if we do defeat Da’makur, this place is going to go to hell. There’s no guarantee that any of the infected will come to their senses. It might end up becoming a civil war on who can be the most ‘Da’makur’ of the remaining.”

Brok shut his one good eye as the other had swollen shut. “I understand. You need not worry about us, Lieutenant.” He opened his eye again, managing to offer a broken smile; his left tusk had been shattered about halfway down. “We Orcs still live by the credo of having to leave our Homeship when it becomes too crowded.”

It was still a sad sentiment. Happy hoped that leaving a Homeship would be like leaving your home for the first time after you got old enough and found a job to support yourself. Sure there were undertones of being kicked out because there just wasn’t room but it should be a joyous occasion. The Homeship would split into two different Homeships, two new destinies forging different paths in the stars. This… this felt like they were abandoning ship.

“If you have any ships that can get away from the Homeship…” Burke began.

“There are freighters,” said Brok with a nod. “We can gather what supplies we can and make our way off the Homeship. Hopefully with our lower numbers and the fact that we can now control our rate of birth, we will be able to find some place to rest and recuperate.”

Happy regarded his arm-mounted shield module and pulled it off. The air shimmered around him as he handed it to Brok. “Gene can keep us in contact. Maybe. When this is all over, you tell us where you are.” He smiled warmly. “We’ll come visit.”

“Happy,” Brok whispered. “Your shield…”

“I’m an optimist,” said the blonde wolf with a smirk. “I’m not going to get hit!” Truth be told, he wasn’t so sure about that but he had plans to borrow Carmichael’s shield module given that the doctor already had shoulder-mounted version.

Poldak stepped forward and held out his hand. “I will see you again when the dawn rises, my brother. For the Next Generation.”

Brok returned a smile and grasped Poldak’s hand firmly. “Stop that madman. For the Next Generation.”

Garok placed his hands over their joined limbs, offering a reassuring smile to the wounded warrior. “We shall. No matter the cost.”

It was touching to see such a moment. The wounded were fleeing, ensuring that the Orcs Homeship Da’makur would live on while entrusting the task of stopping the Rootchief’s deluded plans of conquest in the hands of those that would stay behind. If Happy knew his cliches, Brok would either survive or they would be shot down by Da’makur which would cement his role as a tyrant and spur the remaining heroes to end him. But the Rootchief didn’t strike him as the guy that would kill his own people. Beneath all the megalomania, Da’makur must have some reason for turning from admittedly reluctant and even generous host to the dictator that he was now. Or perhaps this was what he always was and the transformation had just offered him a means to exercise that madness.

He leaned down and gave Brok a light hug. “Take care of yourself, big guy.”

Brok patted his back affectionately. “We shall see each other again.”

The Marines and their Orc escorts stepped off the tram as the survivors of Reyes’ extraction machines finished boarding. It was sad that there were only maybe three dozen of them. Out of the three and a half million Orcs, only forty or so would leave the Homeship with some semblance of freedom and sanity. Happy leaned as far out of the station as he could to watch them go. With the majority of the Homeship focused on feeding Da’makur, there was nothing stopping them from fleeing. Da’makur probably wouldn’t even care that a handful of his Orcs managed to escape his reign.

It only took a few minutes before another tram rolled in and they boarded the boxy transport. Garok programmed in their coordinates and the tram immediately began moving towards the heart of the Homeship, the Seed.

“Equipment check,” Burke commanded.

Happy checked and double checked his weapon. YT-44 Grenade Launcher Rifle was notorious for having some of the most spectacular misfires, second only to the MAW-14. A poorly maintained YT-44 could explode and kill an entire squad in a burst of shrapnel if not properly maintained. So could the MAW-14 but it was the YT that got the reputation. Still, that didn’t stop Happy from checking the rifle ammo and the grenade cartridge. The tram rattled softly as the dark towers of the Homeship’s Trunk grew denser and more compact nearly looking like a seamless night sky complete with the occasional glimmering star.

Beside him Garok fiddled with the Screwer Rifle he had pilfered from one of the Orcs they had managed to subdue on their run through the Nursery. Unlike a standard-issue GTF rifle, the muzzle of the weapon was much wider and thicker to accommodate for the much bigger ammunition. One screw from the weapon was about an inch long and about half as wide in diameter. Having one of those drilling into your flesh was brutal especially if it hit bone or a vital organ. Accuracy was the problem with Screwer weapons, though.

“You knew how to handle that pretty well,” he commented. Garok had picked up the weapon without hesitation from the Orc guard that had fallen to the distraction team. While it could do little against an Orc in spore form, the speeding screws could at least bore holes through a spore cloud and slow down the Orcs enough before the Marines could deal significant damage.

“I am not sure how well it will work against Da’makur,” rumbled the blonde Orc humbly. “If what Captain Reyes said and what Doctor Carmichael extracted from is right, he is stronger and far more powerful than any other Orc we have faced thus far.”

Happy grinned brightly and clapped the Orc on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. We can fuck up Da’makur and then we’ll head back to the Nascent Dawn, meet up with Brok and having a fucking awesome party! I hear you Orcs have some of the most kick-ass beer this side of the galaxy!”

Garok gave him a thin smile. “Orkish grog is fairly potent. At least by human standards.”

“That’s what I’m talking about! We’ll get fucking shit-faced!”

He imagined rendezvousing with Brok again, finding a bright, grassy planet and helping set up a new Orc home planet. Then, after months of hard work, they would celebrate. Beer would flow like a river, the Orcs would forget all about Da’makur and they would toast to a brighter future. Drinking would turn into flirting and then eventually to fucking. Laying in the strong, muscular arms of the Orcs while dozing quietly in the warm sun seemed like a perfect way to end such a harrowing adventure.

Happy took that imagine, that fantasy, and placed it on a wall in his heart. That would be what he would fight for, his motivation, his drive.

An hour into the tram ride, the dark towers of the Trunk was abruptly consumed in the vast darkness of a tunnel. A moment later, there was a literal light at the end of the tunnel. The Marines and their Orc allies stood, bracing themselves for whatever awaited them in the Seed. Happy grimaced a little as the light became blinding.

Then they entered Da’makur’s Seed.

Everything was clean, crisp and white with flecks of green. A city made of ivory, the architecture was vastly different from the Trunk. The towers here were tiered with their interiors clearly visible through glass walls and ceilings. Within each tower were big, green planes almost like they were greenhouses that were stacked atop one another. Happy could see some furniture amongst the plants indicating that these were indeed living quarters. Interestingly, there heavy storm clouds swirling above them. Rain drizzled upon them for a moment as the tram moved through a storm cell but a moment later, it was ‘clear’ again.

“It’s like an entirely different ship,” gasped Carmichael.

“It speaks of our origins,” explained Garok. “Every Homeship starts with a Seed that was built when the Homeship it spawned from became far too crowded and had to split off. We built on top of the Seed, eventually making our own interpretation of the designs and spirit of the Seed that we spawned from. Then, one day, our Homeship will need to split off and the Seed we spawn will most likely designed based on the Trunk and Canopy. The cycle will begin anew after that.”

“The Orcs that you spawned from must have been incredibly advanced. An artificial weather system is no la+ughing matter!”

“If only such a thing were implemented in the Trunk and Canopy…” Garok straightened and pointed at head of them. At the far end of the Seed was the tallest tower of them all. Unlike the other buildings, this one did not have glass walls and was more in line with the black metal structures of the Canopy. “That is where Da’makur resides. We will be there in another hour or so.”

“Alright people,” bellowed Burke. “This is it. Our objective is Da’makur and the warp drive. Priority is the drive. We secure it and get it the fuck out of here. Worst case, we disable it beyond repair. Da’makur is your secondary objective. He dies and this whole thing falls apart.” Catching Wildstorm’s look, he said, “Once the leader is down, we’ll have to send something to the GTF to explain what happened to the Spear and her escorts. I’ll give them a full report and hopefully the Homeship will have calmed down by the time a recovery fleet gets in. Hopefully with less crazy people at the helm.”

Happy smiled softly. He was glad they weren’t going to condemn the Orcs in the Homeship to a slow painful death via starvation or, worse, being perpetually strapped to those extraction machines with no purpose apart from being constantly pleasured and milked. There were no questions of why they had to kill the Rootchief; no doubts either. It was Da’makur’s plan that lured the Spear and her escorts to this trap in the first place. He could do it again and some other ship would fall prey to the Orcs and the Wolves wouldn’t be there to stop them.

He almost felt like a superhero stepping up to the final confrontation. It was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. There was no telling what Da’makur had done or turned into now that he was being fed with the nutritious cum of all the Orcs in the Homeship. In fact, Da’makur had thus far only acted through his proxies and the corrupted human Captains. They hadn’t heard from him at all. That had to be a warning sign if ever there was one.

The tram rumbled to a halt at the station. Even here on the extremities of Da’makur’s residence, the clear pipes carrying Orc semen littered the floor, walls and were hastily welded to the ceilings. They were in such a disorganised state that it was nearly impossible to find any suitable place to walk without stepping on one. Firman gave up just a few moments in and he just smashed one of the pipes with his foot. Cum splashed all over his leg and began pooling around him. The earthy smell of Orc seed quickly filled the tram station. Burke nodded in approval and swung his plasma blade, slicing through the nearby pipes. This wasn’t just to give them a place to walk; it was depriving Da’makur of a precious resource.

Happy clutched his weapon close to his chest, muzzle pointed down. The rest of the Marines took up formation, instinctively protecting the civilians which were Poldak and Garok. They strode through the pipe-filled hallways, the sounds of their footsteps muffled by the constantly gurgling of Orc cum being pumped through the tubes. What few lights peeked between the tubes cast a dim glow on the path. There were no Orcs, guards or even sentinels of any kind to bar their path. Was that because Da’makur didn’t expect anyone to make it this far? Or did he have all his security systems in the council chambers?

“Before all this,” Garok began, his tone full of regret and sorrow, “these hallways were always so cramped and full of activity. I remember being so grateful about my smaller size because I could fit between people so easily.”

“Small?” Happy laughed. “Dude, you were huge when we met. At least by human standards. You would’ve been mistaken for a professional bodybuilder had we gone to a human settlement. Or a model!”

Garok gave him a quizzical look. “We do not have such professions amongst the Orcs. What do they do?”

Despite how close their species looked like on the outside, Happy was reminded again just how different they were not only physically and genetically but also socially. Explaining how some humans made it their job to compete or display the beauty of their bodies and went to extreme lengths to sculpt their body. Orcs didn’t have such professions. Garok explained that the size and shape of their bodies were based entirely on their work and genetics. There was rarely any time or room to just go around flexing muscles or lifting weights since there was always something to do to make sure the Homeship ran without issue. Even the smallest flaw in the Homeship could doom millions.

“If you ever come back to GTF territory with us, I’ll take you to a bodybuilding competition!” Happy exclaimed. “Not to compete, mind you. Probably just to ogle. Oh! A strip show! Yeah!”

Garok laughed softly, offering him a gentle smile. “That sounds like fun. I would like that.”

Their conversation trailed off as the stench of cum grew thicker. A massive doorway at least thirty feet tall met them. All the pipes seemed to feed into holes past the door leaving it’s path to swing open mostly clear. Wildstorm and Poldak grabbed one of the doors each, pulling at them and prising them open. Metal grated across familiar grooves as the council chambers were revealed and the thick smell of Orc musk, cum and sex funnelled blasted out as if gasping for fresh air.

Beyond was the council chambers… and Rootchief Donduur Da’makur.

Happy guessed this should have been a large circular chamber where the Rootchief sat at one end attended by the Sporekeepers. Now, it had been converted into an enormous pool. A lake sat in front of them with the outer edges of the chamber serving as the only means to get from one end of the chamber to the other. The pool itself was filled with thick, quietly lapping cum. Waterfalls of seed were flowing down from sluices. Around the far end of the lake opposite the door were about two dozen Orcs, all of them naked and each of them with their cocks erect. They were constantly stroking themselves and almost in tandem, they would cum and splash their warm, fresh seed onto the gargantuan Orc that sat on the far end of the pool; Da’makur. A glazed, almost hypnotised look were on their faces while Da’makur regarded the Marines with an almost lazy, bored expression.

Behind Da’makur, on a large platform safely away from reach was the enormous orb of the Spear of the Shattered’s warp drive. Makeshift pipes and machines had been attached to it and it was emitting a soft, blue glow, its black surface shimmering like water. There was a single grey-haired Orc that was working on the device.

Sporekeeper Varrin.

“Father!” exclaimed Garok.

The Sporekeeper went rigid and turned around. His eyes were clear of Da’makur’s corruptive green light and there was clear relief on his features when he caught sight of his son. That begged the question: why was he helping Da’makur?

“The heralds of a new green age finally make their way to my sanctum,” boomed Da’makur, waving a massive hand idly through the air. It took Happy a second to realise that given the distance between them and how big the Orc Rootchief appeared from where he stood, the leader of the Homeship was simply massive. If he had a tail, he was sure it would slide between his legs given the intimidating Da’makur. He shook the feeling of fear away.

This was a typical megalomaniac tactic; act all confident and unfazed even though it was pretty clear that the heroes should never have gotten this close to your inner sanctum in the first place.

“I never had the opportunity to thank you,” continued Da’makur. He slowly rose, his immense form emerging from the cum lake around him. He even had the confident to turn his back to the Marines, giving them a view of his massive back as he stepped out of the pool.

Happy had never gotten to seen Da’makur during their first meeting but he was nonetheless impressed by the huge Orc’s 14-foot stature. The dense dark hair that coated his body was matted with cum giving him the appearance of having furry shoulder pads that was lightly connected to a pair of furry armbands. His chest was like a piece of green, furry, anatomically correct armour with a thick bush of black hair outlining the rims of his pecotrals leaving the majority of his chest covered in his dark green skin. Even amongst the thick hair, his nipples pushed past the forest like two emerald green peaks. The cock that swung between his legs could have been mistaken for a tree trunk with its length and girth a match for Happy’s arm. The legs that flanked it were perfectly proportionate to the rest of his body allowing him to carry himself with a regal bearing. The long, mane of black hair that reached down to the small of his back was like a dark crown on the mighty Orc’s features. Despite all these improvements, one eye still remained shut.

“You bore this gift unto us. It was through you that the Orcs evolved and I became…” Da’makur lifted one arm, flexing it. Deltoid, bicep, tricep and forearm were all perfectly defined; huge, vascular muscles that seemed to bulge from his skin, thinning out his dense body hair as they bulged and pressing against one another in a desperate competition for space and size. “… this.”

“You aren’t deserving of this gift, Da’makur!” bellowed Burke in typical heroic fashion. “Gene uplifted the Orcs to help them survive. You’ve turned its gift into a way to forcibly control your people!”

“You know nothing of what it means to be an Orc!” Da’makur roared, spinning back around to face them. “An Orc has not time for the pleasures of the flesh. His life is short as is and most of it is either spent working to maintain the Homeship or in the throes of pregnancy. This…” He lifted his hands into the air. “… This is a way for my people to set aside all the worries that have plagued them! They are now free of constant worry. They are free of politics, familial ties and the future of the Homeship! In exchange, they just give themselves to me and I, in turn, give a part of myself into them! I am the Homeship and they are part of me!”

“That’s fucking mind control!” Wildstorm roared. “The Galactic Convention of Free Will clearly makes any form of indoctrination illegal! It was enforced by the Greys and all the Orcs signed it! Your ancestors did the same! You’re not exempt from them!”

Da’makur scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have not indoctrinated them. They merely think as I do. They still draw on their own personalities, their own experiences and make their own choices. They will just act to that scenario as I would.”

“Mind control with more steps,” Sire snarled, lifting his shotguns towards the Orc leader.

“We can’t allow you to use that warp drive, Da’makur,” Burke roared. Lifting his plasma blade towards the Orc, he shouted, “Make this easy. Just step away from the drive. Don’t make us go through you.”

Da’makur lifted his arms as if to embrace them. “Counter offer: join me. Let me in you. Become Orcs and enter endless bliss. You will be treated like kings! Above Sporekeepers! You are the heroes that uplifted the Orkish race and started the green wave that would unite all the other Homeships! I will even commit our forces to fending off the Karn!”

Happy glanced towards Burke. Any weaker man would have wavered and considered the offer. But not Burke. Though the lieutenant may have his hangups and problems, he at least had a very strong moral compass.

“You’re not the only species out there in the universe and you’re certainly not the only Rootchief either. If it comes down to it, I’ll find a Orc that’s less tyrannical and power hungry to help me beat the Karn Imperium. Even if my back was up against the wall, I’d rather die than become one of your Orcs!”

Da’makur lowered his arms and shrugged his massive boulder-like shoulders. “A pity. You will see things my way eventually.”

He snapped his fingers.

The dozen or so Orcs around him suddenly snapped to attention, turning their still-erect, still dripping cocks towards the Marines and their Orc allies. All of them burst into clouds of spores and darted towards the party like green-black spears. Burke and Firman immediately took point. Burke’s MAW-14 shot blue-red flames out of its muzzle while Firman’s shock rifle blasted lightning out that sent the spore clouds crumbling into the lake of cum.

They had to get to the warp drive. Happy immediately darted to the left with Garok and Stitch right beside him. Poldak shot towards the right side of the lake flanked by Wildstorm and Doctor Carmichael. The spore clouds tried to shoot in either direction, avoiding the withering plasma fire, shotgun pellets and lightning bolts of Burke, Sire and Firman but the teams were ready. Happy flicked his weapon into its grenade mode and fired it right into the lake. A second later -

BOOM!

A huge wall of cum exploded upwards. The spore clouds couldn’t stop fast enough and collided with the sticky goo, dragging much of its mass back into the lake. On the other shore, Carmichael fired off wads of his own semen out of his tentacles, sending them shooting at rapid fire into the clouds and ripping holes into their frame. The clouds quickly began losing cohesion on the shores. As Poldak had said, in their spore form, if an Orc was separated from the rest of his spores, he would become less and less intelligent. It had been Da’makur’s mistake to have the lake of cum there as it only provided the Marines the chance they needed to separate the Rootchief’s allies.

Da’makur rolled his eyes and shook his head, exasperated at the failures of his own men. He stretched out both of his arms. His limbs seemed to dissolved into spore clouds from about midway down the forearm up to his deltoids. The rest of the form was an emerald green gas that had the vague shape of a very thick arm. Those two disembodied arms suddenly lunged out.

Stitch gave a cry of shock as that huge hand - easily big enough to pluck him off the ground - seized him by the waist and lifted him up into the air. He was slammed hard against the wall, the impact causing a massive crater-like dent in the black metal. On the other shore, Wildstorm didn’t have time to wind up his chaingun as a massive green fist as big as his chest slammed into his chest and pushed him back a whole five feet. The massive grey-furred wolf was strong, however, and managed to keep his footing. Poldak slammed his back against Wildstorm’s and added his strength to the limb.

“Let him go, you fucker!” Happy roared and angled his grenade launcher at Da’makur’s ghostly limb. He fired off the grenade. The Rootchief wasn’t just massive, he was fast. As quickly as the grenade launched from Happy’s weapon, Da’makur retracted his limb, pulling his captured prey right into the path of the projectile. Happy’s eyes widened in terror as the little black sphere came within an inch of Stitch and -

BOOM!

The white-furred wolf went flying, crumbling to the ground with his kinetic barrier flickering around him. Clearly Da’makur wasn’t expecting the shields as he had let the white wolf go expecting him to be blown to pieces. Stitch shook his head and sprang to his feet. Clearly displeased with being tricked, Da’makur lunged at him one more time, that huge arm sailing towards him even from halfway across the lake. A green-black spore cloud slammed hard into the flying limb with Garok partially materialising in front of the open palm, pushing it back. Da’makur tried to close his fingers around the rebel Orc but Garok kept his form semi-tangible allowing him to slide between the meaty fingers like water but still maintain his material form enough to keep the limb from crushing Stitch.

That gave Stitch the opportunity to quickly dash up to the back of Da’makur’s arm and fire off a few quick rounds with his needle gun. The Orc Rootchief gasped and pulled his arm back, his entire limb re-materialising as he regarded the needles in the back of his hand.

“I’ve hit him with a sedative!” Stitch bellowed. “That should slow him down a little!”

Happy dashed up towards a fully formed Garok and gave his Orkish friend a quick nod. Together, they bolted towards the warp drive. Da’makur caught their movement only for blue lightning to strike him in the chest. Firman and Burke had finished with their hostiles and were now moving towards him. Scowling, Da’makur withdrew the other arm that had been holding back Wildstorm and Poldak.

“My Orcs!” he bellowed. “To me!”

Meteors of green-black spores came shooting out of ventilation shafts and even some of the sluices around the chamber. They slammed hard into the ground, reforming into huge, angry, green-eyes Orcs that quickly charged to intercept them. Just as he was bringing up his gun, Garok dissolved into a spore cloud and wrapped around his legs. His Orkish ally launched him high into the air, shooting him high into the air and straight towards Varrin and the warp drive. Together, they quickly landed beside the Sporekeeper as Burke and Firman took their place keeping the horde at bay.

“Why father?” demanded Garok. “Why would you help him?”

“He threatened to kill you,” Varrin explained quickly. “But now I see he’ll kill you regardless.” A fierce determination entered the Sporekeeper’s eyes as Da’makur dissolved into Spores and quickly reformed in front of them. Varrin immediately stepped in front of the two, holding his arms up. “Stop this, Donduur! You sore to me you wouldn’t kill my son!”

The Rootchief scowled at him. “You’re right.” He seized Varrin’s neck, lifting the Sporekeeper into the air. Happy quickly switched his gun back into its rifle mode and levelled it at Da’makur. He didn’t have a clean shot and he was fairly sure that even if he fired, Da’makur would just dissolve into spores to dodge the fire. “I never said anything about you.”

Terror entered Garok’s eyes. “Father!”

Varrin choked, Da’makur’s fingers closing around his neck. “All of you!” the Rootchief bellowed. “Surrender now or your precious Sporekeeper dies!” He flung around confidently, swinging Varrin around like a rag-doll. “He has not been turned and there will be no turning into a cloud and merely escaping. I can snap his neck here and now!”

“Y - You need me!” stammered Varrin. “Gilles and Reyes are dead! No one else can make this warp drive work!”

“No?” laughed Da’makur. He lifted his head back as if talking to the heavens. “You can hear me, can’t you ‘Gene’? The AI that made this all happen? Whatever your purpose, whatever your task, it will end here if your Marines die. I will spare them. I will even leave them unturned if you help me make this warp drive work!”

“Gene! No!” Happy shouted.

“Silence!” Da’makur snapped. Then he turned his glowing green eyes back towards the ceiling. “What say you, Gene?”

A voice erupted from Stitch’s wrist-mounted console as his was closest, “Analysing.”

Then, quietly in his ear piece, “Private Killigan, please throw your shield module to Corporal Mattleigh. Corporal, please allow me to interface with the warp drive.”

“What?” he demanded. “Gene, no!”

“Please trust me, Corporal.”

He glanced down towards Burke who was furiously shaking his head even as over a dozen Orcs complete with Screwers had him surrounded, his back against Firman’s. Wildstorm and Sire were similarly cornered, pushing Doctor Carmichael back between them as they slowly backed off against a wall. Stitch was likewise surrounded and looking up at him with big, confused, brown eyes.

Da’makur was facing him now.

“Corporal, please.”

Gritting his fangs together, Happy lowered his gun, Sire shouting out his name. Since he was technically a superior officer to Stitch, he gave the Private a nod. Stitch yanked off his module and tossed it up to him. With a deft swipe, he grabbed the device and pulled a cord out from the side of his wrist console and placed it straight into a port on the warp drive.

“I am now interfacing with the warp drive,” Gene announced loudly. “Where would you like to go, Rootchief?”

Da’makur grinned broadly. “There is another Homeship close by. It is in our records. Search for it and bring us there.”

“Affirmative. As I calculate the route, may I ask you a question, Rootchief?”

The huge orc slowly lowered Varrin, relaxing his grim enough for the Sporekeeper to breathe a little easier. “Make it quick, machine.”

“Who was the one that turned you? Was it Garok? How did it feel? Was it paralysingly pleasurable?”

Suddenly, Garok’s eyes widened in realisation. The Orc immediately burst into a spore cloud and before anyone could react, he thrust himself right into Da’makur’s throat. The Rootchief choked down the cloud of spore, forced to let go of Varrin entirely as he clutched his throat and tried to cough out the Orc. He actually fell to one knee as thick veins popped up all over his body, his form fighting against Garok within him.

“You insolent sapling!” growled the Rootchief. “You… I will crush you!”

Da’makur erupted into a burst of spores, shooting into the air like a malevolent, emerald-green cloud. Somewhere within the cloud was a brighter green cloud - Garok - who fought and struggled against the Rootchief. Gunfire erupted from the council chambers. The moment of distraction was all the Marines needed to cleave past the other Orcs and make their way towards the platform.

“Corporal!” Gene shouted. “I am overloading the warp drive. It is the only way to rid us of Da’makur once and for all.”

Remembering his high school physics class and training at the academy, Happy recalled that an overloaded warp drive could create an enormous singularity that could crush anything caught within its growing expanse. The black hole was proportionate to the size of the drive and with this coming from a cruiser, it would be huge. “What? We’ll be crushed!”

“That is why I need someone to stay here and activate it while everyone else escapes.”

So this was it… the heroic sacrifice. Happy always knew that he would go out with some cliche…

“I’ll do it,” Varrin coughed, staggering up to him.

… or not.

“Sporekeeper…” he began, unsure how to respond.

“My son is fighting the Rootchief,” Varrin explained, looking at the mass of clouds above them. It was clear that Garok would lose the fight. The bright green spores were slowly fading, crumbling against the darker spores of the Rootchief. “It is not a fight he can win. I must do this.”

No matter what happened, there was a cliche waiting for him; the heroic sacrifice.

“Goddamnit…” Happy muttered, handing Varrin Stitch’s shield module. As Varrin grabbed it, he seized the Orc’s hand and pulled him close, their eyes meeting. “Your resistance lives. They escaped.” With a firm shake, he left the module in Varrin’s hand and turned. He vaulted clear off the platform, landing deftly on his feet. The digitigrade stance helped in catching his weight. He was thrown questioning looks by his Marines. All he had to do was look directly are Burke. The Lieutenant knew this scene all too well.

“Gene,” bellowed Burke, pressing two fingers against his ear. “Get us out of here.”

“Affirmative, Lieutenant. Follow my instructions.”

Happy cast one last glance at the swirling mass of spores and wished he had at least said goodbye to Garok one last time. For the briefest moments, he snapped his heels together and gave the brave Orc a sharp salute. Wildstorm called out for him and he bolted straight after the rest of the squad as they charged out of the council chamber.

Varrin followed Gene’s instructions to the letter, fingers racing across the consoles and plugging and unplugging wires from ports. The warp drive hummed to life, that ominous glimmering blue aura spiralling wilder and wilder like a leviathan waking from its slumber. He didn’t dare look behind him. The raging sandstorm of his son fighting against the Rootchief grew wilder. Tears began to blur his vision but he kept working. Then, a massive hand seized his shoulder and yanked him free of the spherical device. The grey-haired Orc slammed into the ground, staring defiantly at the seemingly uninjured Rootchief.

There was no sign of Garok.

“What have you done!?” bellowed Da’makur.

A dark smile touched his lips even as tears streamed down his face. “Do you remember the threat that the lieutenant gave when we first met? How if he overloaded the warp drive it would create a black hole that would crush the entire Homeship?”

Da’makur’s wild green eyes widened in terror and he stared at the massive sphere in horror. “You wouldn’t…”

But he would and did.

The warp drive began to shake violently. Bluish-purple bolts of lightning crackled from its surface, arcing off in wild directions and sending sparks skittering across the council chamber. Gravity began twisting in spaces; globules of cum began floating into the air from the lake. Debris glided listlessly across the chamber. Light itself warped around the drive, swirling towards the centre of the sphere and leaving little but darkness in its wake.

“No… No!” cried Da’makur. There was a disadvantage to having such big, meaty hands as he furiously tried to tap commands into the console but his huge fingers only spewed out indecipherable commands. “You’ve killed us!” he accused. “You’ve killed the Homeship!”

“No.” Varrin rose to his feet, still defiant to the end. “I’ve killed you.”

Da’makur let out one last frustrated roar before the warp drive began overloading in its fullest. Varrin could only close his eyes and let himself succumb to his fate, a satisfied smile on his face. At least some part of the this society would live on in the Orcs that managed to escape. That was something.

And it was enough.

“For the Next Generation,” he sighed.

Back with the Marines, Wildstorm and Poldak used their combined strength to smash through one of the massive doors that barred the entrance into Da’makur’s sanctum. They were on the rooftop of the building which was already shaking violently as the warp drive began affecting gravity.

“Goddamnit!” Sire shouted. “It’s a dead end!”

“I sure how you don’t think we’ll evolve to fly, Gene,” Burke growled. “What’s the plan here?”

A great gust of wind suddenly blasted the brown-furred wolf back. A starship came zooming in from below, opening a hatch on its side. The words ‘Nascent Dawn’ were painted on the flank just beside the hatch.

“Gene?” he asked.

“In the many hours that you were absent,” explained the AI, “I was able to gather materials and analyse -”

“Hundred words or less!” barked the lieutenant.

“I made improvements to the Dawn while you were gone. Get in!”

Burke waved his squad towards the new and improve Dawn. Two forward-swept wings spanned the entire length of what could easily be considered a corvette-class ship. The original Dawn was barely fifty metres long but this was now at least two hundred metres and certainly big enough to fit a sizable crew. Happy was the first to leap on the wings and race across the length to leapt into the hatch. Wildstorm was next. Gravity was already starting to act strangely around them as even the massive wolf was easily able to make the jump despite carrying his makeshift shield and chaingun. Particles and debris were floating upwards while Burke felt the fur on his arms and neck rise. Poldak half-carried, half-dragged Carmichael off the wolf’s feet and into the ship, making the two the last to leave the building. The flood crumbled beneath Burke prompting him to vault off the surface and race up the ship.

Firman dragged him into the ship as the hatch closed behind him, making him grateful that he didn’t have a tail. He raced straight towards the cockpit where Sire had already taken his place in the pilot’s seat. Taking control, Sire pulled the new Nascent Dawn away from Da’makur’s palace which was already crumbling from the pull of the collapsing warp drive.

“Map me a way out of this place, Gene!” Sire demanded.

“Already done. If you want me to take control -”

“Nope! You already messed with my baby. I’m piloting her.”

“You had a child? This is unexpected. A female one too.”

Sire rolled his eyes as Burke sat beside him in the co-pilot’s seat, the lieutenant checking the auxiliary systems and keeping an eye on the warp anomaly behind them. “It was an expression.” He took the controls, grasping the throttle and guiding the surprisingly fast Nascent Dawn through the buildings of the Homeship’s Seed.

It didn’t take long for the warp drive’s influence to start affecting the Seed itself. With a weather system of its own, the Seed’s clouds began swirling with the might of a hurricane. Lightning struck the buildings, starting fires. Powerful winds yanked fixtures off their base and send them hurtling towards the palace. Burke took control of one of the automated turrets. A block of concrete was blasted to dust before it could strike the Dawn’s windscreen.

“Warning,” announced Gene. “By my calculations, due to the sheer amount of matter around the warp drive as it was overloaded, the warp anomaly will grow to an exponential rate. The flight path will get more and more dangerous as we flee and the gravitational forces will grow more and more treacherous.”

Sire bared his fangs, yanking the ship wildly to the right to avoid a crumbling building. “Your point?”

“All personnel, please secure yourselves.”

He briefly glanced at his seat, vaguely aware that he didn’t have his seatbelt on. With a sigh, he strapped himself in and then took control of the ship again. Gene’s path took them careening through one of the tram line’s tunnels, plunging them momentarily into darkness. Sire began accelerating.

“That is not advisable, Specialist Khan. The next section is the Homeship’s Trunk. The buildings there are far more densely packed and if you approach it at this speed, we will -”

“Let me fly, Gene!” he barked and suddenly, they were shooting out of the tram tunnels and right into tightly-packed, chaotic metropolis of the Trunk. Any other pilot would have immediately slammed on the brakes but not Sire. The expert pilot immediately twisted the ship to the left, pitching the entire ship onto its side as it zoomed right between two buildings without stopping or slowing down. In fact, he was still accelerating. Not much good that was doing him as the gravitational forces were increasing so much that he could actually see the windows of the buildings cracking and peeling apart as he flew! It was like he was racing lightning that was shooting through glass.

As they cleared the two buildings, he saw the immediately destruction the warp drive was causing. The thousands of skyscrapers of the Trunk were all bending towards them - more specifically, behind them. Hundreds of steel blades of grass just pitching towards a single point. It would have looked beautiful if his heart wasn’t pounding to get out of his chest. Metal groaned and one of the towers snapped in half, the upper half flying off and peeling towards the warp drive.

“Get us out of here, Sire!” Burke shouted.

“I know! I know! I’m trying!”

“The warp anomaly is growing stronger and faster than expected,” Gene warned. “Even if we were to clear the Homeship, it’s sheer mass would drag us back in.”

Sire grit his fangs together as they zoomed past the Canopy. The wreckage of the Spear of the Shattered flew past them. The crude docks and homes crumbled, swirling in streams of debris towards the black hole that was rapidly growing in mass behind them. He could feel the Nascent Dawn struggling to maintain its acceleration. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if they were actually moving anymore and wondered if their progress through the Homeship was more attributed to the Orc mothership being squashed by the singularity.

“I’m open to suggestions!”

“There is only one option.” Gene paused. Even the great and powerful Genesiseed, supposedly the embodiment of their universe had to pause, hesitating in its decision. “We make a warp jump.”

“This close to a singularity?” Sire protested. “We could be flung halfway across the galaxy! There’s a reason why ships have to at least clear the Earth’s atmosphere before they make a jump!”

“I am aware. I was also only able to procure enough resources to power a single jump and maintain it for a short duration before we are forced to drop out of warpspace. We will not be able to make another jump. However, between that and certain destruction, there can only be one option…”

Sire bit his lower lip and glanced towards Burke who shared the same worried expression he had. “Captain? Your call.”

Burke squeezed his eyes shut, that moment of indecision and self-doubt shaking him to his core.

“Do it.”

Sire turned to face the debris field streaking past him. “You heard the wolf, Gene. Initiate warp sequence.”

Behind them, the singularity had grown so much that it was now a visible black orb that was rapidly consuming the Homeship, sucking up everything around it.

“All hands, prepare for warp jump in five…”

The entire ship began to shake. The Dawn’s kinetic shields shimmered as powerful gravitational forces tried ripping it apart. Happy and Stitch strapped themselves into wall-mounted seats and restraints, shutting their eyes and quietly praying.

“… four…”

Entire docks began peeling backwards, curling into massive metal spirals that arched towards the growing singularity. Wildstorm strapped Carmichael into one of the restraints. The shaking of the ship caused him to stumble but he quickly powered through the disorientation and managed to get into a seat himself.

“… three…”

The lights in the ship began to flicker and the shaking grew more and more violent. Poldak fumbled with his restraints, unused to how they were structured. Firman seized his hands and snapped the buckle in before giving the big, green Orc a light slap on the chest. He then jumped into his own seat.

“… two…”

Burke’s claws dug into the armrests of his chair. Sire gripped the controls tightly. Behind them, the singularity grew big enough that it was like a huge, black planet threatening to swallow the ship that was barley holding together against its massive gravity.

“… one…”

A shimmering, sky-blue beam erupted from the tip of the Nascent Dawn. The starship’s entire structure began to glow the same colour before it seemed to stretch to the same dimensions as the small beam. Like a rubber band being pulled to its limit, the Dawn was suddenly released, snapping back into its original shape and then shooting off into the distance with a thunderous boom and the crackle of energies.

As for the Homeship Da’makur, the massive Orc superstructure was completely swallowed by the titanic sphere of darkness. Dark blue bolts of lightning crackled all over its surface, all sound and light were dragged into the sphere. The force of the overloaded warp drive crushed everything within its range. The dark sphere softly roared for what seemed like an eternity. Then, as quickly as it came, it began shrinking back. All the matter it had consumed came shooting back out as a fine, white, cosmic dust, glimmering with the same warp energies that had created the singularity in the first place. It was almost beautiful as the almost gaseous, crystal-like dust spiralled out of the shrinking singularity like a miniature galaxy.

Then… it was gone leaving nothing but cold space dust in its wake.

Epilogue: Replanting the Seed

Calculating warpspace duration.

Assessing host health and unit cohesion.

Reanalysing core objectives.

******

By the time of Garok and Varrin’s noble sacrifice, Brok and his refugees had fled and were many hours away. Even though Orkish FTL technology was crude compared to human warp drives, it was sill enough to put great distance between them and the doomed Homeship that they weren’t even aware of the singularity. Brok strode amongst the hundred or so resistance fighters that had managed to escape Reyes’ torture. Some of them were able to stand on their feet and were helping nurse back to health those that were too injured to help. It wasn’t much but a hundred Orcs could easily repopulate and create a new Homeship… provided they had the resources.

And that would be the greatest problem.

Due to Da’makur’s obsession with conquest, much of the Homeship’s supplies had been left unguarded. Brok’s band was able to grab as much as they could fit into their small freighter’s cargo bay as they could before they left. Still, it would only last a month or so. Less if they started reproducing right away. What they needed to do was find someplace where they could truly start repopulating efforts with enough resources to see them through multiple generations.

But with their new mutations and control over their ability to reproduce, he was confident that would be achievable.

The entire freighter shuddered and the lights flickered off for about three seconds. He didn’t think much of it. This was an old freighter and Orc ships weren’t exactly know for their stability. Just as he was quietly praying for the ship to hold together to whatever god would listen, an Orc let out a cry of surprise and shock. Brok spun and suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of a very alien weapon. It wasn’t human and certainly not Orkish as it had far too many luminescent parts and had an odd, sleek design to it. The owner of the weapon was wearing some sort of all-consuming black armour with glowing blue eyes as a visor.

“What…?” he began.

Similar warriors were everyone, weapons raised and his Orcs paralysed with fear and surprise. These aliens came in different shapes and sizes but all of them were clad in the black armour with blue lights and wielding those mysterious weapons. Bork braced himself to enter spore form when he spotted one person that stood out amongst the newcomers.

A black-furred wolf with a white lower jaw and brown hair dressed in a clean, pressed black suit.

“Who are you?” Brok demanded.

“I go by many names,” answered the wolf curtly. “Creator, Ultimate Owner, King of Gods. But you may call me ‘The Director’.” The Director strode towards Bork, one brown eyebrow raised. “Yes, you must be Brok. I’ve been told about you. Come with me.”

The Orc remained in place though he did scowl. “Why should I?”

“That was not a request.”

The solider jammed the muzzle of his gun against Brok’s neck, forcing the Orc to grunt and turn to follow the Director. Others of the black-clad soldiers forced his Orcs to give way to the passing Director.

“Just who are you? How did you get here?” he demanded.

“Like I said, I am the Director. I own this place. I can do anything I want with it including making my troops instantly appear in your little runaway ship at a moment’s instance.” They approached the door at the end of the cargo bay. The Director took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to grasp the handle of the door and push it open.

The expanse on the other side of the door definitely wasn’t the adjoining hallway. It was a room that was completely black save for the chairs and tables which were a silvery colour. Two other Orcs were already seated there alongside one bland human. He immediately recognised the two Orcs.

“Sporekeeper?” he blurted. “Garok?”

The two Orc stared at him in surprise with Garok rising to his feet in surprise. “Brok? You are dead too?”

“Dead?”

Varrin regarded his hands in surprise. “Last thing I remember, I was being torn apart by the overloaded warp drive. It was painful but only for a moment.”

“I was being consumed by Da’makur…” Garok said with a shudder. “I tried to hold myself together but he was picking me apart one spore at a time.”

The human scratched his grey beard. “I was standing on a platform watching Orcs steal my warp drive. Then… then there was darkness… and I was here?”

The Director took up position at the far end of the table, seating himself down on the chair there. “Everyone here met their demise save for Brok whom I’ve intercepted. I brought you all here because of the events that transpired around the Crux. I believe it was being called the ‘Genesiseed’ by the resident humans.”

Garok turned towards the Director in surprise. “How did you know about that?”

“I make it my business to know everything about my creations.” The Director’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Especially when things turn out so… out of the ordinary.” The wolf waved a paw absently through the air and the door shut behind Brok. “There was a strange message I received a few moments ago. Best I can tell, it was delivered when a massive gravitational anomaly swallowed up a titanic starship belonging to the Orcs.”

“You detected the warp drive overloading?” Varrin asked. “By the way that Lieutenant Burke spoke of it, he made it sound like that was a common tactic amongst the humans.”

“No. The message came from a starship next to the anomaly.” The Director folded his paws in front of him sternly. “Best I can tell, this starship opened a second, far more controlled singularity for the purposes of travel. The nature of this jump, however, brought it dangerously close to the dimensional barriers that surround this reality. It is safe but for the briefest of moments, it was able to send a sort of ping through the barriers which immediately raised red flags with the Nexus Conglomerate. In fact, it seems that because the ship made the jump so close to the much bigger singularity, it was able to send this tiny little message through the barriers without risking itself.

“This shouldn’t happen.”

“Why?” the lone human said.

“Imagine, if you will, Captain Farwood,” the Director said calmly, “if you have a air-tight, self-contained environment designed to keep a very delicate species from being exposed to contaminants and the hostile environment of the world beyond its barriers. Then you detect that somehow, something inside it has sent something out of that environment. How would you react?”

Farwood frowned. “I would go looking for a hole in the wall…”

“Exactly.” The Director nodded towards him before turning his gaze to the gathered or Orcs. “Something or someone sent a ping through the barrier. It was expectedly scrambled and destroyed without seconds of leaving the barrier since anything from this dimension cannot exist beyond the barriers for long. Still, it is a reason for concern. I need to know if there is someone actively trying to breach the barrier to escape or if there is some other malicious intent behind the anomaly.”

The wolf rose, pressing his paws against the table as he leaned towards the four gathered men.

“So I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Everything. Leave out no detail.”