Dire Contingency
Copyright© 2025 by Snekguy
Chapter 4
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 4 - 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 2 – HADES – PETROVA
The dropship shook as turbulence buffeted it, Petrova watching the operatives who accompanied her as they sat in the rows of seats to her left and right. Even through her bulky PCE, she could feel the craft decelerate, circling to shed speed before coming to a hover. It bounced on its heavy landing gear, then the troop ramp dropped, bright light spilling into the bay and washing everything in desert sepia tones.
The dropship sagged under her weight as she walked down the ramp and out into a garrison. It resembled a small military compound like some of the FoBs she had visited over the years, albeit far more rudimentary, with most of the structures made up of prefabs. There were only a few carbcrete bunkers, and they seemed primarily made for storage. The sky was a deep blue, and the sun was large and bright enough to trigger her canopy’s displays to dim, windswept dust blowing across the compound. She could see nothing of note beyond the garrison walls save for the tether that rose up into the sky, fading into the haze.
Ahead of her, lined up in an open area in front of the prefabs, were rows of PDF. The troopers were easily identified with their camouflaged uniforms, some of them wearing surplus body armor with stenciled letters across the chest plates. They were standing to attention like they were on parade, their nervous eyes glancing back at her, equal parts awed and intimidated by her Bullshark. They were being guarded by a squad of armed SWAR agents, their XMRs at the ready. There would be many more troopers still locked up in the jail cells – these were merely the most cooperative individuals.
The rest of the operatives in her shuttle thundered down the ramp behind her, taking up position to either side of her suit. A second dropship had already landed nearby, and she could see the Wombat hovering overhead, its four thrusters angled down in VTOL mode. The massive aircraft landed on all-terrain skids rather than wheels, gradually settling, its profile more like a house than a vehicle. She could see dark shapes moving behind the raised cockpit windows above its slanted nose. Like a landing craft of old, that nose dropped to the ground to form a ramp, a procession of Marines and carrier crew marching out of its shadowy cargo compartment under the watchful eyes of more agents.
The PDF seemed very surprised to see them, muttering to one another as they watched near a hundred prisoners wearing UNN uniforms be herded into one of the carbcrete structures at gunpoint. The bunkers could shelter civilians from the nearby district in the event of a Bug attack, so there was space enough to house them for the time being. The Wombat took off again once its passengers had been disgorged, rising into the sky as its four engines burned blue, leveling out before soaring away over the city.
The PDF troopers turned their attention to Petrova as she lumbered over to them, her canopy sliding open once she was standing close enough, making the nearest man lurch in alarm.
“My name is Lieutenant Commander Petrova,” she announced over the sound of the idling engines, glancing down the line of troopers. “I’m UNN special forces, if that wasn’t obvious by my choice of attire. You’re all here because you took the initiative. When asked if you wanted to do more for your colony, you answered the call. Our hope is that your friends and colleagues who are still being held will make that same decision in time. Security is of the utmost importance during this transitional period, and we cannot release anyone before clearing them.”
That was a lie, of course. The PDF would either submit to Commander Barbosa, or they would remain incarcerated along with the carrier’s crew. Petrova wasn’t sure how she felt about this course of action. Barbosa had always been up-front and direct before. He had never coerced her or any of his followers to join him – he had simply presented the facts as he saw them and let each person decide for themselves. Still, there was logic in his approach when it came to dealing with civilians. A convenient lie would buy time and keep the peace while he enacted his plan. The PDF could be exposed to his ideology gradually, and in time, their loyalty evaluated.
“For those of you who might have missed the Governor’s address yesterday, we are part of a Navy detachment sent to Hades to root out criminals and reinforce your colony against alien attack,” she continued. “We’ve been authorized to provide special equipment and training to those who choose to accept it – equipment and training usually reserved solely for the special forces. Those of you who sign on will be instructed by the UNN’s most elite operators and – if you prove yourselves – given access to military-grade augmentations. Impress us, and you might be entrusted with a PCE like mine one day.”
That seemed to get a reaction from them, some of the men admiring the suit and muttering to one another. They turned their attention to an operative who was walking over from one of the dropships, a crate that looked large and heavy enough for two men held in his hands. He dropped it beside Petrova and cracked it open, lifting something from within and brushing off a few fragments of packing foam.
“This is the latest Mark Three XMR,” he declared, hefting the rifle aloft so that the recruits could see it. “It’s state-of-the-art, Navy-issue – a hell of a lot more advanced than the old surplus you guys have been drilling with until now. You’re going to become familiar enough with this weapon that you can disassemble and reassemble it blindfolded while someone hucks rocks at you. You lose one of these or somehow discover a way to break it, I’m gonna take an arm, and I’m not giving you a new one.”
“The gun or the arm?” the nearest man asked.
“Both,” he replied. “Like the LC said – if you guys prove yourselves, you’ll get special access to augmentations like mine.” He raised a polymer arm, a few of the nearby troopers jumping in surprise as a long blade shot out of his wrist, extending a few inches past his hand. He stowed it again with the sound of metal on metal, closing his fist. “These replacement limbs and organs are stronger and sturdier than your organics. They’ll let you run faster, react quicker, and hit harder than even the most seasoned Marine. They require commitment, however. This isn’t an outfit where you do a few tours and go back to tending your dirt patch. If you’re in, you’re in for life, and you don’t get the organics back when you clock out. Not that you’ll miss them,” he added with a chuckle.
“Sir?” one of the troopers asked, raising his hand. “I thought augs were illegal unless you got hurt?”
“We have special permission from the Admiralty,” the operative replied, not elaborating any further. “You muddy dirt farmers aren’t getting your grubby mitts on any of this nice, expensive tech until you show your instructors that you have what it takes to join the best warfighters in the colonies. Now, hop to it!” he barked. “I want to see how far you maggots can run in this heat before you lose your breakfast!”
Petrova watched as the group of recruits set off, starting a lap around the compound with the instructor yelling orders at them. It reminded her of boot camp, and she cracked a smile before quickly sealing her canopy again to get some reprieve from the heat. Similar conversations would be happening right now in all of the garrisons, and the Wombat would be making trips to each of them to deposit the uncooperative carrier crew, isolating the prisoners into more manageable groups. There would eventually be questions, but by then, their position should be a lot more secure.
She had doubts that even SWAR could turn these bottom-of-the-barrel PDF troopers into elite operators in a few short months, but this was what they had to work with. What their force lacked was manpower, and these colonists had warm bodies, if nothing else.
“How are things on the ground, Petrova?” Barbosa asked as an image of his eyeless face appeared in her rightmost display.
“Going to plan, Commander,” she replied as she straightened a little. “The prisoners are being transferred to the civilian shelters, and the PDF volunteers are starting their training. I have to say, they don’t look like much. We’re hardly selecting the cream of the crop.”
“These men are wet clay waiting for a firm hand to mold them,” Barbosa replied. “Our people will make something of them yet – you’ll see.”
“The PDF conversion rate seems much higher than the carrier crew, at least,” Petrova added as she watched the group of recruits pass behind some prefabs. “Roughly half of them have signed on – some to get out of jail, but others seem genuinely interested. They seem to have bought our line about defending the colony, even after we attacked them.”
“Is it so far from the truth?” Barbosa asked. “They might not truly know what they’re training for, but we’re still giving them access to equipment and resources reserved only for the Navy’s highest echelons. They don’t know who they’ll be defending their colony from, but that war is coming all the same, and they’ll need to be prepared. In time, we’ll be able to reveal more, but not until our control over Hades has been cemented.”
“Understood, Commander,” she replied. “The census from the Governor shows around a hundred thousand people living on this colony, and about ten percent of the population has PDF training – both active and reserve. That gives us about ten thousand people, with around two thousand active in police and peacekeeping roles at the time of our arrival. We’ve already put out calls for reservists to report to the garrisons, but I’d advise proceeding slowly and cautiously. If we train and arm too many people too quickly, it could backfire on us. Even SWAR won’t prevail against fifty-to-one odds.”
“Not without turning the colony to glass, at least,” Barbosa grumbled. “What’s the status of their orbital defenses?”
“Under our control, Commander,” Petrova replied. “They have stockpiles of surface-to-orbit missiles and also several MAST launchers.”
“Those MASTs are nasty,” Barbosa added with a frown. “That’s the only weapon they have that could threaten our carrier. They’re also going to be our linchpin when the Navy comes knocking. Keep a close eye on them and have men posted at the launch sites at all times.”
“Understood.”
“Very well, proceed as you see fit,” Barbosa said with a nod. “You’re my eyes and ears on the ground, Petrova – my right hand. Secure the colony and build me my army.”
“Yes, Commander.”
DAY 2 – HADES – RUZA
“Unpaid overtime!” Bill complained, slamming his beer can down on the table. “This is bullshit!”
The group of miners were hunched over a table in the bar, many still sporting their dirty high-vis jackets, having a well-earned drink after what had clearly been a trying day. Ruza was sitting among them, as was Amy, who had begun to insert herself into all of their meetings as of late.
“Surely the unions won’t stand for this,” Ricky added. “We had to fight tooth and nail to get proper worker’s rights out here, and overtime pay was one of them. I dunno what these Navy guys are building that they need all that ore.”
“According to my buddy who works at one of the factories, they’ve switched from making tungsten carbide drill bits and milling tools to railgun slugs,” Bill continued as he glanced around the table. “The whole place became an ammunition plant overnight.”
“My friend who works at a print shop is being asked to make polymer parts for rifles,” another of the miners added. “I also know a guy who works at a garage, and they have him making heavy machinery – he doesn’t even know what it’s for. His shift manager just walked in, gave him the blueprints, and told him that’s what they’re doing now.”
“Seems like the whole economy is shifting to manufacturing weapons for the Navy,” Ricky grumbled as he took a drink from his mug.
“The Governor isn’t a King,” Amy protested. “He can order the factories to produce whatever he wants, but it’s the unions that give him power. What’s he gonna do if they refuse to cooperate and go on strike?”
“There are already rumblings about strikes and protests,” Ricky confirmed with a nod. “Give the unions a little time to get organized, and I’m sure they’ll sort things out.”
“What about the Navy?” one of the miners asked. “These orders are clearly coming from them. Do you think they’ll stand by and let the unions shut down their factories and mines?”
“It’s the UNN – they’re not gonna shoot people,” Bill scoffed.
“I am not so sure,” Ruza muttered. “I am not convinced that these men are truly representing the UNN, and the Navy would have no need of Hades’ manpower or its factories. If they wished to defend the colony from hive fleets, they would have sent a carrier group rather than one ship, and they would have manpower and resources enough to spare.”
“At least they’ve started releasing the PDF like they said they would,” Bill said. “We were on our way home from work, and we saw a whole group of them running down the street. Looked like they were doing training, and there were a couple of those special forces guys with them.”
“Terry, you’re in the PDF, right?” Ricky asked as he turned to one of the men. “Are they having you go in for evaluation too?”
“I’m a reservist, not active duty,” the miner explained. “They’re calling everyone up, though – same way they would if there was an invasion. I usually only train on weekends.”
“I’m not going in,” another of them scoffed, taking a swig from his can. “Fuckers shot my cousin. He’s gonna be alright, but a lot of his friends aren’t. They come ‘round my place asking after me, and they’re gonna get a pickaxe to the dome.”
“That’s a lot of people if they’re bringing in the reserves,” Bill mused. “Maybe that’s why they have us doing overtime – they expect that a lot of workers are going to be called up.”
“Maybe there really is going to be a big attack?” someone suggested.
“Betelgeusians do not patrol systems as we do,” Ruza explained. “There is very little warning of an invasion – the hive fleet simply jumps into high orbit and begins its attack. The idea that the Navy is aware of fleets in neighboring systems is highly suspect.”
“They’ve been bringing something down to the surface all day, too,” Amy added as she leaned in to whisper. “I’ve seen a huge lander coming and going over the city. Each time, it lands in a different garrison, like it’s rotating between them.”
“Why not just bring cargo down on the tether?” Bill asked.
Amy gave him a shrug, taking a pointed sip from her drink as if to say isn’t that strange?
“We will meet later,” Ruza added, rising from his seat. “I must head home.”
He said goodbye to his friends and headed out of the bar, wrapping his face and putting on his goggles to shield himself from the sand. Just like in his home territory, the desert cooled rapidly at night, making him glad of his leather jacket.
As Ruza strode down the familiar street, passing by the rows of prefabs, he saw someone approaching in the distance. They drew closer, and he realized that it was several men walking along beside a vehicle – one of the troop carriers he had seen blocking the garrison gate. He suddenly felt vulnerable. He was out in the open, alone, and very conspicuous. Briefly, he considered ducking behind the nearest prefab for cover, but that might arouse suspicion.
Instead, he stepped aside as the procession passed by him, giving them room. The large APC was moving slowly on its fat tires, kicking up a little cloud of dust, matching pace with the soldiers who walked alongside it. There were three on each flank – enough for a squad, and all were heavily augmented. As they walked past, those on the near side turned their inscrutable helmets to examine him, the way that their hands rested on their rifles making him bristle. Why were they patrolling the city? One of the men raised two mechanical fingers to his visor, which was patterned with a strange symbol, then pointed them back at Ruza. It was a human gesture – I am watching.
Ruza’s Borealan blood began to boil, demanding a response to the open challenge, but he quelled his instincts. A younger, more brash Rask might have started a confrontation, but Ruza’s anger had been tempered by age and experience. Though it made him feel clawless, he watched the humans pass, then continued on his way.
When he arrived home, Ruza locked his door, briefly looking out through the narrow windows at the dark street beyond. It didn’t appear that he was being followed. After a few moments, he willed his racing heart to calm, the familiar tug of his AG plate helping to relax him. It had been a long time since he had felt fear from a human – not since the days of the rebellion. If only Fletcher were here...
He moved across the small prefab, reaching for his coat rack and pulling away the sheet that covered it. Beneath was a long weapon tipped with a round muzzle device, the coils that shone beneath its heat shroud catching the light through the gaps in the polymer, a large optics package attached to its rail. Ruza wrapped a furry hand around the barrel, lifting it from its place beside the door, checking the battery charge level on the six-foot rifle. He didn’t keep it loaded, but he had a few magazines stashed in the prefab. His Navy credentials had allowed him to keep the weapon, but he’d hoped that he would never have to use it again. Satisfied that it was functioning, he returned it to its place beside the door, covering it with the sheet.
DAY 3 – HADES – RUZA
“Where are you all off to?” Amy asked.
Bill, Ricky, and a group of their fellow miners had stopped by the practice. They were wearing their yellow hardhats and high-vis vests, though they wore their casual clothes beneath them rather than their work coveralls. As casual as protective clothing got on Hades, at least.
“No work today,” Bill announced cheerfully, lowering his rebreather. “We’re going down to city hall to join the protest.”
“What protest?” Ruza asked, leaning out of his office curiously.
“The unions are all pretty pissed off,” Ricky explained. “They’ve voted on a general strike until the Governor agrees to their demands. All of the mines and factories are closing down.”
“That was quick,” Amy chuckled. “What are they asking for?”
“Overtime pay, for one,” Ricky replied. “Some of the factory workers had their shifts doubled, and people have a lot of questions about the Navy. Nobody is happy, and the Governor has a lot of explaining to do. They asked everyone to go down and join the protest as a show of solidarity.”
“Having a few thousand angry workers at your back tends to improve your position during negotiations,” Bill added with a grin. “We didn’t have time to make a sign, but we put a high-vis on a broom handle,” he added as he gestured over his shoulder. One of the miners had a fluorescent jacket taped to the top of a wooden pole, the wind making it wave like a banner.
“I will accompany you,” Ruza said as he stepped out into the waiting room. “Amy – please watch the practice while I am gone.”
“Are you striking, Ruza?” Bill asked. “I thought you were self-employed?”
“Unrest can be dangerous,” he replied as he threw on his leather jacket. “I would like to be there in case something happens.”
“Hey, nobody’s gonna mess with us if Ruza is there!” another of the miners added.
They stepped out into the street, heading off in the direction of the looming tether.
When they arrived at the protest, Ruza found himself amidst a crowd of two or three thousand people, his height letting him stand head and shoulders above the sea of humans. The streets of Hades were not especially wide, and the throngs practically clogged them, many of the protesters holding signs or waving banners made from their work vests. It seemed that it hadn’t been Bill’s idea – perhaps they had coordinated over the intranet. This was only a small fraction of the workers who lived on the colony, but it was already hard to navigate with so many of them present. Ruza could barely hear anything over the noise of a thousand garbled conversations.
The colony’s most important structures were all clustered at its center – close to the anchor. That included the hospital and several administrative and government buildings, such as the courthouse, corporate headquarters, and city hall. The latter was little more than a square box of gray carbcrete with some large windows that looked out over the city – more function over form. It might have appeared more impressive had the industrial mountain that was the anchor not been towering over it. Ruza remembered the lavish marble pillars and artificial oasis in the courtyard of the Matriarch’s palace, but the Hadeans appeared to have no eye for such fineries, or perhaps they simply lacked the means.
In front of the hall was a large open space that the humans called a square, though it was more of a circle with a tall stone obelisk at its center. It was some manner of monument, though he had never asked the humans what it commemorated.
Ruza’s group was a couple of hundred meters from the square, but he could see that someone had parked a truck there, and several humans were standing atop its roof to raise them above the surrounding crowd. Five men were perched there holding megaphones in their hands – likely the union bosses. Though Ruza doubted very much that they ever joined their workers on the line, they wore the same yellow jackets and hardhats. They were addressing the crowd, the distortion and noise meaning that he only caught snippets here and there.
“ ... since the strikes during the days of ExoCorp, we’ve promised to guarantee...”
“ ... general strike until our demands are heard and explanations are given...”
“ ... bring this colony to a standstill if we have to...”
A set of steps led up to the hall’s entrance, and Ruza noted that there was a row of soldiers standing on them, preventing the protesters from approaching. He was concerned to see that they were SWAR, not PDF. The PDF would be trained for police actions and unrest, but SWAR were special forces – they would have neither the training nor the temperament for such work. They were armed with XMRs, their faceless visors watching the crowd below. As his feline eyes scanned the streets that fed into the square, Ruza saw more security forces. Some of the streets had been blocked off using formations of PDF troopers with riot shields, supported by APCs, but they were never alone. Everywhere his gaze wandered, he saw more armed SWAR operatives.
“Man, there’s a lot of people here,” Bill mused as he stood on his toes to get a better view. “Yo, gimme the broom. I want a go.”
“Want Ruza to give you a boost?” Ricky chuckled.
“More people are supposed to be coming, too,” another of the miners added as he pulled up his phone. “A lot of the major roads are clogged already.”
“You getting a signal?” Bill asked. “Mine’s being weird – it keeps disconnecting.”
On one of the upper floors of the city hall was a balcony that looked out over the square, and the crowd became louder as the Governor appeared there, walking out into the harsh sunlight to address the jeering colonists.
“My fellow Hadeans,” he began, his voice ringing out clearly as it was augmented by powerful speakers. “You are heard! When you elected me, I promised that the days of corporate tyranny and organized crime would end under my administration. In partnership with the UN, we’ve ushered in a new era of unprecedented peace and prosperity for Hades. That does not mean that we will never face challenges or hardships, however. Our great colony is under threat from within and from without. Our UN benefactors have foiled a criminal plot by rogue elements of the PDF before it had a chance to begin, and they’re presently arming our colony against a possible hive fleet invasion. The situation is well in hand, and there is no cause for alarm, but I implore you to show patience during this brief transitional period.”
The crowd began to jeer again, and the noise was soon overpowered by the sound of a megaphone.
“I am the elected representative of the Factory and Metalworkers Union,” one of the bosses began. “Your administration previously agreed to legal limits on the number of shifts and overtime hours that our members can work. We haven’t consented to any changes to those agreements!”
“Same goes for the Mining League!” another of them added. “Our miners are being asked to do unpaid overtime, which violates Hadean labor laws that you signed off on!”
“The Trade Association is being denied free access to the tether!” another yelled. “We can’t move our goods to the station for shipping, and the whole supply chain will be impacted unless something is done immediately!”
“The Municipal Employees Guild stands in solidarity with our fellow workers! We’re on general strike until their demands are met!”
“Why are we being ordered to manufacture weapons for the Navy? Under whose authority? What’s going to happen to our exports and our contracts while we’re stuck making slugs?”
The crowd shouted in a chorus of agreement, waving their banners and signs, Ruza’s ears flattening against his dusty hair to block out the noise. Humans showed an instinctual aversion to authority that often left him wondering how they had ever created a functioning civilization.
His gaze wandered to the nearest group of troopers and SWAR, watching them begin to move into position, blocking off the street. There were more operatives on one of the roofs of a far-off prefab, lying prone as they watched over the crowd with a marksman rifle, the sun glinting off its scope.
“Rest assured that my secretaries are already making appointments for private meetings with all of you to address your concerns in detail,” the Governor replied. “For the time being, my contacts at the UN insist that the day-to-day operations of the colony continue to run smoothly. The weapons and ammunition that you’re manufacturing may soon be needed to defend your homes and families. Please keep that in mind. We Hadeans are no strangers to tough conditions, but these measures are only temporary.”
“Who are they to insist?” one of the bosses demanded. “When we joined the UN, it wasn’t so that they could run our colony like a sweatshop!”
“Nobody elected these guys!”
“We still don’t have a satisfactory explanation for the attack on the garrisons! Why are the missing PDF not being released?”
“I implore you to remain calm and orderly,” the Governor continued as the crowd grew more riled up. “There’s only so much that I can do at this juncture, but I assure you that my administration is doing everything in our power to-”
“Fuck the UN!” some in the crowd shouted. “Fuck the UN! Fuck the UN!”
It became a chant that spread through the square, some of the protesters starting to move up the steps towards the hall’s entrance, clashing with the SWAR operatives. Ruza watched, his concern growing as one of the agents violently pushed a worker back down the steps, his companions catching him as he fell. They leveled their weapons, the angry mob backing away, gesturing and jeering at them.
More of the security forces were moving now, boxing in the square and cutting off any avenue of escape for the distracted protesters. Perhaps they couldn’t see what was happening through the crowd, but Ruza had a higher vantage point, and he could tell that a trap was being sprung. A few of the workers closest to the cordons were clashing with the PDF as they were forced deeper into the square, raining blows on their riot shields. As he glanced behind him, he saw that the same was happening back the way they had come, with more troopers approaching down the dusty street to tighten the noose.
“Please remain calm!” the Governor pleaded. “I’m doing my best to maintain order here, but any violence against our peacekeepers will not be tolerated! I respect your right to protest, but you’ll be asked to disperse if you don’t cooperate!”
“The only violence is coming from your UN goons!” one of the bosses shouted. “Why do you have armed troops protecting you?”
“These are UNN Marines who are currently assisting the PDF with their duties,” the Governor replied. “The incident at the garrisons has left us with manpower shortages!”
“We need to leave,” Ruza growled, getting the attention of his friends. “Now.”
“But we just got here!” Bill protested, waving his broom. “C’mon, Ruza, things are just starting to get exciting!”
“We should do as he says,” Ricky added sternly. “I don’t like this one bit.”
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