Dire Contingency
Copyright© 2025 by Snekguy
Chapter 36
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 36 - A disillusioned special forces group stages a violent insurrection, stealing experimental weapons from a Navy black site and using them to take over a remote colony. With help months away, the only person who is in a position to oppose them is Ruza – an old veteran of the Kerguela war. The planet is plunged into a brutal conflict, with local resistance groups hellbent on breaking the occupation.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Military War Science Fiction Aliens Space Oral Sex Petting Size Politics Slow Violence
DAY 56 – HADES – BARBOSA
Barbosa marched across the compound as SWAR teams and camouflaged PDF rushed back and forth, the shadow of the tether casting a dark streak across the compound. It seemed to crawl across the city slowly, like some manner of giant sundial. The air was hot and dry, and the planet’s hypergiant star was blinding, but his PCE kept him mercifully insulated from the hostile environment. He had spent so many weeks in orbit above the arid planet, directing its day-to-day operations and waging his campaign, but this was the first time he had ever set foot on its surface. The way things were going, it was likely to be his last.
Garrison One was the largest and best defended of the bases on the surface, nestled amidst many of the important administrative and civic buildings, only a stone’s throw from the anchor. If there was a place to hold out while his plan was enacted, it was here.
He paused, watching the crowds run back and forth, PDF trucks already loading troops under the direction of the SWAR teams. Song was easy to spot, piloting the only other PCE in the dusty compound, a group of troopers hurrying out of his path as he lumbered over to Barbosa.
“The Ursa is secured and ready to deploy at your command,” he began. Barbosa glanced over at the house-sized lander that was sitting on one of the pads, dwarfing the pair of dropships that were idling beside it. “Nilsson and his staff have been loaded onto a transport and will be transferred to the anchor shortly.”
“Good,” Barbosa replied. “Have you had any updated reports from our other teams?”
“Both MAST launch sites have fallen under enemy control,” Song replied hesitantly. “We’ve had no further contact from any of our people, so it’s reasonable to assume that they’re all KIA. Before we lost contact, one of the teams reported the presence of a Jarilan Warrior, and it was just confirmed by the flight of dropships we sent to intercept the enemy.”
An image appeared on Barbosa’s HUD, seemingly captured from a video feed, showing a magnified view of a towering alien creature. He sneered at the familiar sight of Betelgeusian biotechnology, watching as two more pictures of the thing cycled past.
“There’s no low that Brenner won’t sink to,” Barbosa muttered. “That thing is a crime against nature...”
“A convoy of captured vehicles is returning to the city and will arrive within two hours,” Song continued. “I’ve already begun deploying our PDF to head them off.”
“They just keep coming out of the woodwork like termites,” the Commander complained as he viewed footage of the trucks crossing the desert, the Warrior loping alongside them. “No matter how many of them I kill, there are always more to replace them. Looks like they have a PCE,” he mused, noting the suit that was clinging to the back of one of the vehicles.
“One of the production models,” Song explained. “Possibly a defector. We can’t fully trust the locals, after all. They’ve proven to be less than reliable.”
“Or Petrova could have captured one,” Barbosa sighed. “The last conversation I had with her did not end on friendly terms. We can’t rule out the possibility that she’s aiding the insurgents now. I had such high hopes for her future, and look what they’ve done to her. They’ve filled her head with lies and manipulated her into blaming all of her problems on me.”
“Be that as it may, our foothold here is no longer tenable,” Song continued hurriedly. “Without the carrier and the MASTs, we cannot exercise control over Hades’ orbit, and I do not believe that we have any capacity to recapture them now. Some of our most valuable assets were guarding the MASTs.”
“I know,” Barbosa conceded. “You don’t need to convince me, Song. It should be obvious to any capable commander that our control over this colony has been lost. Nor am I intending to go out in a blaze of glory,” he added. “Our strategy now is to delay the enemy and buy Roach and Crow time to secure our exfil route. Put every warm body and obstacle that we have in their way, and prevent them from reaching us. Pull out all the stops. I have no further use for Hades or its people, and I no longer care what state we leave them in. This accursed dustbowl can burn for all I care.”
“Very well,” Song replied. “I will wait for the most opportune time to activate the Ursa Major.”
“That should tie them up for a while,” Barbosa said. “Are you sure that you can control it?”
“Control? No,” Song replied. “Once the Ursa is activated, it will seek its own targets at will, and there won’t be much that we can do to direct it. The suit upgrade that I designed simply allows me to broadcast a friendly IFF signal using a transmitter recovered from another Broker drone. It will see me as a fellow Broker, and I’ll be able to operate in its proximity with relative safety.”
“Good. I want these insurgents dead and buried. There’s no way they have anything that can scratch that tank.”
“Commander, you may want to check the wide radio band,” Song muttered. “There’s a repeating message being broadcast by the insurgents.”
Barbosa tuned in, hearing a distorted transmission filter into his suit.
“ ... leader of the glorious resistance. As we speak, the yellow rat fuck known as Barbosa is on his way to ground after being driven off his carrier. We control his ship, we control the tether station... ”
“Jameson Reed,” Barbosa sneered. “I truly hate that man.”
“He appears to be rallying the locals,” Song continued. “He no doubt intends to divert our attention and strain our resources.”
“Deploy PDF riot teams to secure the streets leading to the anchor,” Barbosa said. “If there’s any kind of protest or march, they’ll be coming straight to the city center, and Reed knows it. I want airborne SWAR teams dispatched to head off that insurgent convoy.”
“I’ll see it done, Commander.”
“This is still my city,” Barbosa growled. “I’ll give it up when I’m damned well ready, and not a moment before.”
DAY 56 – HADES OUTSKIRTS – RUZA
Ruza hopped out of the back of the APC, feeling warm sand beneath his paws once more. The vehicles had pulled up in the industrial zone on the outskirts of the city, and the fighters were unloading from the transports, filtering out into the deserted street. Rivera was organizing them into teams, the men lining up on the dusty road, Petrova’s PCE and Lily’s Warrior towering over them.
“Could be worse,” Reed said as he sidled up beside the Rask. “We have a hundred good men, heavy infantry support, and your AMR. I don’t think Barbosa has much left that can stop us now.”
“It is just a matter of reaching him,” Ruza replied, gazing out at the tether in the distance. “The carrier’s Captain has confirmed that Barbosa set down inside Garrison One. It is in the heart of the city, and well-defended. Whatever special forces remain to him will be concentrated there.”
“You think he’s just planning to hole up and wait us out?” Reed asked.
“I do not know,” Ruza replied. “Do any other options remain to him?”
“Alright, people!” Brenner shouted as he climbed on top of the nearest APC. “Here’s the plan! Barbosa is holed up in the city center, so that’s where we’re going! This is going to be a thunder run! That means we’re traveling at speed in light armored vehicles with the goal of punching through the enemy lines and taking their HQ. The carrier is providing overwatch and will feed us data on enemy movements in real time, but we can’t risk fire support. We intend to avoid large concentrations of enemy forces and roadblocks, but if we encounter heavy resistance, the order will be given to dismount and neutralize. Lily, Petrova – your task will be to protect the transports. We’ll be moving through a dense urban environment, so expect attacks from all angles and watch out for civilians. Let’s keep the momentum going!”
“Get over here, Petrova,” Reed said as he waved to the PCE. It came lumbering over, and Reed pulled a roll of reflective yellow tape from his vest, gesturing for her to extend her hand. He began to wrap the tape around the suit’s bulky forearm.
“What’s this for?” Petrova asked, her voice taking on a synthetic quality through the PCE’s speakers.
“So we know which side you’re on and Ruza doesn’t blow your head off by accident,” he replied. “Borgs too,” he added, nodding to the SWAR agents. “It could get all kinds of mixed up out there, and we don’t want any blue on blue. Come on – line up.”
One by one, Brenner’s team lined up to receive their armbands, Silverback flexing as Reed wrapped the tape around his bulging bicep.
“Yes, yes,” Reed muttered. “Your arms were very expensive, I get it.”
Wasp was last in line, staring back at Reed through her expressionless visor as he taped up her arm. They whispered to one another, Ruza’s sensitive hearing easily picking it up.
“Glad you’re still in one piece,” Reed began. “I don’t believe in one-night stands.”
“I think you had more important things to worry about than that,” she chided. “I’m amazed you didn’t catch a slug. Barbosa could probably see your inflated head from space, Mister glorious leader of the resistance.”
“Be careful, alright?” he added as he wound another length of tape around her arm. “I know that you have a tendency to be impulsive.”
“I’d have to be impulsive to sleep with you,” she whispered. “You’re lucky I harbor some strange, likely concussion-induced affection for you, or I’d already have twisted your head off.”
“You always know just what to say. It’s poetic, really.”
“That’s too much tape!” she hissed. “Pay attention and stop thinking about last night, you little gremlin. It’s going to look weird!”
“It’s not like I’m gonna cut off the blood flow.”
“That’s not the blood flow I’m worried about.”
“You’re all done!” he announced a little louder. She turned, and he dared to give her a pat on the butt to send her on her way, her back straightening like a rod in surprise.
“I swear to God, Reed,” she began in a low and menacing tone.
“We’ll do lunch when this is all over,” he replied. “Use that fiery hatred you feel as motivation.”
“Young love,” Silverback added with a sarcastic sigh as he watched his teammate stalk past with balled fists.
Reed recoiled as the Warrior marched over to him, towering above even the APCs, each footfall shaking the ground.
“Uh, I don’t think anyone’s going to be confused about which side you’re on,” he stammered as she came to a stop in front of him.
“I know, but I want to be included,” she insisted.
“Alright,” he muttered, peeling off a length of tape. She brought down her shield so that he could reach, and he stood on his toes, crossing two long strips to create an X symbol. “There you go. By the power vested in me by ... nobody, really, I now pronounce you a resistance fighter.”
“Cool,” she chuckled, lifting the shield and moving back a few paces.
“What about you, Harlequin?” Reed called. “You want to be a resistance fighter too?”
“I’m good!” he shouted back. “My whole thing is more not being seen, and the high-vis yellow kind of conflicts with that!”
“If we’re all done playing grabass, let’s start loading up!” Rivera barked. The fighters began to climb back inside the waiting trucks, their boots thundering up the ramps as he looked on.
“We have a friendly dropship incoming,” Brenner warned, holding a finger to his helmet. “Don’t shoot it down, please.”
Ruza heard the craft before he saw it, a UNN dropship coasting in low over the city, flying just above the flat rooftops of the prefabs to avoid enemy fire. It banked to shed some of its excess velocity, then began to descend in VTOL mode, putting down in the courtyard of a nearby warehouse complex. Ruza had to will his heart to stop beating so fast, his hands gripping his AMR more tightly. His experiences on Hades had trained him to fear the shadow of a Leadbeater.
From the ramp emerged a handful of figures. As they neared, he made out two more SWAR agents, along with three other humans. He didn’t recognize them at first, but he soon realized that they were Trogs, the men clad in heavy EOD armor. Behind them marched something far stranger, its pristine white and silver finish shining in the afternoon heat. It was a Broker – he had never seen one in person before.
“Whoa,” Reed muttered, moving up to stand beside the Rask. “Is that a Broker?”
“Have you ever laid eyes on one before now?” Ruza asked quietly.
“Nobody has,” Reed marveled as he watched it draw closer, its cupped feet leaving circular tracks in the sand. “All we need now are some Valbarans, and I can fill in my Bingo card.”
Ruza knew better than to ask.
Brenner walked over to greet the newcomers. It seemed that they were what remained of the team sent to oust Barbosa from the carrier. They had succeeded, but at a cost. Neither the Trog team nor the SWAR team were up to full strength.
“I figured we’d do more good down here than sitting out the fight on the carrier,” one of the SWAR agents began as he walked over to introduce himself. “Ortega has everything under control. I’m Flatline, and that’s Caveman. The Trogs are Deacon, Parker, and Mitchell. We call the walking fridge Reggie.”
“I am Ruza,” the Rask replied with a bow of his head.
“Yeah, we’ve been hearing a lot of chatter about you,” Flatline confirmed with a nod. “And you must be Reed.”
“I see that my reputation precedes me,” Reed replied smugly.
“That and the message you’re blasting across every radio frequency.”
“Leave the bird here,” Brenner advised. “It’ll only draw attention to us. There’s room for all of you in the trucks, but not Reggie. I have no idea how that suit of his works – can he keep up?”
“Oh, he’s got some tricks up his sleeves,” Flatline replied.
“I’ll say – he has four of them,” Reed added as he watched the alien machine walk past.
“He says that he can detect the Ursa,” Flatline continued. “His mission is to recover whatever Broker technology was used in its construction. We should get advanced warning if they decide to switch the thing on.”
“Alright, load up,” Brenner said as he directed them to the trucks. “We’re gonna be hauling ass, so prepare for a bumpy ride. The shocks on these pieces of shit are as old as I am.”
“Tape!” Reed declared, brandishing the roll again. Flatline gave Brenner a questioning look, and the Commander nodded. The newcomers lined up to receive their armbands, Reed sticking a strip to the massive pauldrons on the Trog EOD armor. He went for Reggie, but the Broker had other ideas, hurrying away with its awkward gait as though afraid of him.
“He’s a little shy,” the one named Caveman whispered.
As the last of the men climbed into the trucks, Petrova returned to her place on the back of one of the vehicles, making its rear suspension sag beneath her PCE’s weight. Lily’s Warrior jogged in place beside them, stretching its legs, while Reggie waited nearby. Only when Ruza had climbed inside the lead truck and had emerged from its hatch did he see the Broker move again. As the vehicles revved their engines, the suit’s spindly legs tucked up beneath its belly, the bulky chassis somehow hanging in the air as though an invisible force was holding it aloft. There were no thrusters or engines that Ruza could see, and the sand beneath it seemed undisturbed by any backwash.
Human technology had once seemed as magic to him. He could not have imagined how a shuttle’s engines worked, or how an XMR could fire a round without any propellant. Over time, he had learned, and he had come to understand forces like aerodynamics and electromagnetism. Whatever the Broker was doing, it defied his understanding. Perhaps it was some advanced form of AG field, bending gravity to its will.
The convoy began to roll out, the two aliens flanking them – the Warrior jogging as the Broker drifted silently. They rapidly picked up speed, Ruza bracing a hand against the hull as the truck bounced beneath him, his AMR clutched in the other. He could already see fires on the horizon, their black smoke rising in great plumes, distant dropships flying back and forth like flies orbiting a carcass.
“It appears that your call to arms has been heard, Reed!” Ruza said, raising his voice over the wind.
“Told you!” he replied, his voice filtering through Ruza’s earpiece. “Hadeans don’t turn down a good scrap!”
The convoy rolled through the narrow city streets, flanked by the Warrior, Ruza watching the scenery flash by from his place atop the lead vehicle. The city was alight with fires, the smoke starting to choke the sky, the red stain cast by the dimming sun only adding to the sense of oppression.
As they drove deeper, they saw more and more evidence of what was unfolding around them. True to their reputation, the people of Hades had taken to the streets, and they were wreaking havoc. Ruza wrinkled his nose at the scent of burning metal and plastic as the convoy drove around the flaming husk of a PDF truck that was partially blocking the street. All of its doors had been flung open, and there was no evidence of any occupants. It wasn’t the last, either – Ruza turning his head to examine another truck that had crashed into a prefab, the outriggers collapsing to bury its cab beneath the dented metal. His keen eyes caught a few empty magazines and bright yellow banners that had been discarded during the fighting.
Further along, he spotted a large group of people moving down the street ahead, the armbands and vests that they wore displaying their allegiance. They were carrying poles with more fluttering high-vis vests taped to them, and all were armed. Some carried weapons no doubt sourced from the resistance or perhaps stolen from fleeing PDF, while others wielded hammers and pickaxes likely taken from their workplaces.
They turned when they heard the sound of the engines, bristling, but cheers soon erupted when they saw Ruza and his yellow armband. The crowd of people stepped aside to give the trucks room to pass, waving and brandishing their weapons, Reed and more of the fighters emerging from the hatches atop their respective vehicles to wave back. The reaction abruptly turned to one of confusion and alarm when they noticed Tiger Lily running along beside the vehicles, a few of the onlookers retreating to the cover of the alleys. The Broker garnered a mostly bemused response as he coasted along behind the trailing vehicle, far too odd to be frightening.
“What a sight we must make,” Ruza muttered.
“Told you the tape was a good idea,” Reed replied.
“I have word from the carrier that we’re coming up on a PDF roadblock,” Brenner warned. “There’s no way around, and we don’t want to stop unless we have to. Can you clear us a path, Lily?”
“I’ll make sure you have a way through,” she replied, accelerating past the lead truck. Ruza watched her sprint by, at head height to him, the suit’s loping strides carrying her ahead. He ducked down a little further into the hatch, keeping his rifle above it, watching intently.
In the fading light, he soon picked out the roadblock. The PDF had set up concrete barricades and sandbags to block the street, and they had parked two trucks behind them longways, creating another obstacle. PDF with rifles looked out over the road from the hatches atop the vehicles, and the passengers had disembarked – two squads manning the defenses.
They must have been expecting rioters to come rushing down the dusty street, not a Warrior. The suit wasn’t hard to spot, quickly emerging from the shadows cast by the setting sun and dark smoke clouds, its autumn camouflage stained red in the dying light. Their panic was evident as they began to fire at the approaching goliath, Ruza ducking reflexively as a few stray slugs flashed past it, one pinging off the front armor of his transport and another hitting a prefab off to his left. Her shield illuminated the shooters in brief flashes of blue-green light, her plasma warding off the slugs, that shoulder-mounted cannon coming to bear from above it.
It aimed its rotating barrels down, their coils glowing as a stream of thirty-millimeter slugs hammered the defenses, chewing through the concrete barriers as though they were made from packing foam. The sandbags fared no better – the troopers who were huddled behind the roadblock eviscerated or tossed back by the force of the rounds, the kinetic energy enough to coat the walls of the trucks behind them with gore. One good sweep had the survivors scattering to the safety of the alleys, and Ruza watched as the Warrior plowed into what remained of the barricades, wading through them to create a breach down the center. As pieces of broken concrete rolled across the ground and a low wall of sandbags collapsed, she shouldered her way into the parked trucks.
One of the drivers leapt out of the cab and made a frantic break for it, while the gunners ducked back down into their hatches, the Warrior pushing the ten-ton vehicles aside as though it was opening a pair of swinging doors. One seemed to frustrate her, and she drew back her shield, slamming its flank with enough strength to dent the armor paneling. The blow lifted the wheels on its near side off the sand, and it slowly toppled over, crashing to the ground with a cloud of displaced dust. Lily gave it another shove with her clawed foot to clear the way, then wheeled around, firing one more burst down a nearby alley to dissuade some of the braver PDF.
She waited for the convoy to reach her, the trucks slowing to navigate the chicane of broken barricades and smashed APCs, jogging along with them as they picked up speed again.
Ruza turned his head to track what remained of a trooper on his way through – the man’s body reduced to a red smear, dark blood splattering the prefab where he had been standing. Fighting against Betelgeusians was different. They were more alien in appearance and behavior, and one could rationalize that they were almost emotionless, being practically impervious to fear and pain. It was easy to kill them with a clear conscience – to grow desensitized to the violence. Not so for Coalition species. This was not his first rodeo, as Fletcher would have put it, but it never became any easier to see such destructive weaponry turned against people.
They took a few side streets, Captain Ortega guiding them from the carrier above, his telescopes and sensors able to pick out individual units on the ground. They bypassed more of the blockades, Brenner’s strategy of speed allowing them to stay ahead of the enemy, the PDF unable to respond quickly to their presence with all of the fighting in the city. Gunshots echoed from every direction now, the fires choking the sky. Ruza found himself hoping that the Hadeans would not become too fervent and burn down the whole city.
The convoy slowed as it passed another group of civilians, Ruza leaning over the side of his truck to watch them throw flaming bottles at a PDF vehicle. They were filled with some manner of flammable substance – perhaps fuel or alcohol, spreading burning liquid as they shattered against its hull. What had transpired here was less ambiguous. There had been a small roadblock set up to control the flow of rioters, and several PDF were lying dead, with the rest having fled. One of them had a miner’s pickaxe jutting from his chest plate. The Hadeans were engaged in some kind of violent celebration, waving their yellow vests and throwing stones, trying to break the windows of the truck as it was engulfed in fire.
Ruza was doubly glad that the battle lines were so clear, watching the jubilant humans wave and shout as the convoy passed, moving out of their path. Just like the last group, they weren’t expecting to see the aliens, craning their necks or retreating in alarm at the sight of them.
“So, Reed,” Wasp began. “Did you have a plan to get these people back under control when this is all over, or did you not think that far ahead?”
“They’re working through months of anger and resentment,” he explained as they rounded another bend and returned to the main street. “This is good for them – trust me. It’s therapeutic.”
“I am glad that Amy and the others remained at the base,” Ruza muttered.
“Once we release the loyalist PDF, we’ll be able to restore order,” Reed continued. “Remember – half of them are still holding out in the garrisons. The ones you’re seeing on the streets are those under Barbosa’s command.”
“Looks like they bet on the wrong fuckin’ horse,” Silverback mused.
“Another big roadblock up ahead,” Brenner said. “Friendlies are engaging, and there’s no way around, so prepare to dismount on my mark. We’ll move up with the trucks and use them for cover. Watch for blue on blue – there are civvies going hog wild all over the damned place.”
As they neared their target, the trucks slowed to a crawl, staying in a tight column. Lily moved her Warrior to the front of the convoy, matching their pace, while Petrova’s PCE dropped off the back of its vehicle and lumbered up to join her. Ruza used the scope of his rifle to scout ahead of them, bracing it on the roof of the truck, quickly spotting a firefight.
Another fortified roadblock was in their path, and this one was already burning, assailed by a group of Hadeans. These were not civilians armed with improvised weapons, but an organized group of resistance fighters. They wore their leathers and armbands, a few of them sporting helmets, each of them armed with a rifle or handgun. Perhaps they had been lying low in the city ever since the battle, growing their numbers and preparing just as Reed’s group had.
They were using small unit tactics, a handful of squads laying down suppressive fire from the cover of alleys and a disabled civilian utility vehicle, exchanging shots with the PDF behind the barricades. One of them tossed an incendiary device, and it landed behind the sandbags, erupting and sending a burning trooper rushing away.
“Dismount!” Brenner ordered.
The trucks came to a brief stop to let the passengers pile out, and they were soon advancing again at a steady pace, each squad forming a column behind their respective vehicle for protection. Ruza squeezed back down into the troop compartment, then leapt out onto the street, keeping his AMR at the ready as he marched behind the rumbling transport. Lily and Petrova took point, the panicked PDF soon switching targets to the far more threatening newcomers, their shields flashing each time a slug found its mark. Petrova’s speakers blared a warning as they approached.
“Friendlies! Friendlies!”
A few of the fighters turned to look back, their surprise quickly morphing into relief as the two hulking suits came marching out of the smoke bearing their yellow tape. Petrova and Lily had little to fear from the enemy XMRs, and they waded into battle without hesitation, the Warrior’s cannon thundering as Petrova’s heavy rifle fired off accurate bursts. They quickly reached the damaged civilian truck and covered the fighters as they retreated to the safety of a nearby alley, Petrova moving her suit into the line of fire to cover them.
There was little that the defenders could do against heavy infantry, starting to retreat deeper into their fortifications, hiding behind layers of barriers and sandbags. Behind them was a trio of trucks, parked to block the road. This blockade was more complex than the last one. It seemed that the further the convoy progressed into the city, the more time the enemy had been given to prepare. They had even brought out dragon’s teeth – pyramid-shaped concrete structures laid out in rows that were intended to stop tanks and vehicles. The convoy must be close to one of the garrisons.
The suits were able to step between them, Petrova pushing a group of PDF out of a dugout, firing over the sandbags and into the foxhole where they were taking cover. The survivors leapt and scrambled their way free, retreating into the alleys, the PCE loosing another burst that caught one of the troopers and tore him apart. Tiger Lily strode between the fortifications, the Warrior’s long legs letting her walk over the obstacles, her cannon swiveling to fire off shots at the scurrying humans below. The goal was not to slaughter the enemy, but simply to break their line and send them fleeing.
A grenade exploded, Petrova’s shield flashing, but it was a futile attempt. She swung her weapon towards a trooper who was rising from a truck hatch with another grenade in hand, taking off his head and sending the decapitated body slumping back down into the vehicle.
“First wave – push in!” Brenner ordered.
The infantry squads near the front broke from the cover of their trucks, rushing towards the roadblock. They vaulted over the barricades and sandbags, working in teams to clear the area, a few gunshots ringing out as they came across stragglers.
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