The Cure
Chapter 41

Copyright© 2019 by QM

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 41 - What if you can cure the incurable, including restoring the dead flesh of a re-attached severed limb? How? Well, that's the rub, isn't it? The secret is in your sexual emanations and only works when reacting to the environment of a vagina.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Mystery   Restart   Science Fiction  

The Gentle Breeze hung in the midst of its tenders as the last of the injured and wounded were transferred to ships taking them back to various planetary centres where long term recovery could begin (re-growing limbs mostly). What remained were a group of what we now knew were Raffagee females. They were being kept in isolation from the males of that species who were, from what we knew from reports, violent, untrustworthy and apt to attempt suicide, taking as many of those whom they presumed were their enemies with them.

They also viewed their females as ‘property’ and beneath notice, even though, from what we could tell, they performed various necessary services on the Battlespheres. Where they could, the females had surrendered en-masse when given the chance and hence we and other medical carriers were crowded with refugees, all claiming (once they learned of it) asylum within the Empire.

Not that they were any trouble, other than needing to be fed and housed. If anything they were keen to assist in any way they could and ImpSec had an embarrassment of riches in information on the Raffagee invasion fleet. The ladies, despite being looked upon as both lesser and property, were not stupid and whilst not technically adept, did know how the captured AI style computer networks worked and had various passwords to unlock them for general access and even command privileges. This was the result of the fact that the various males took no notice of the lowly females who cleaned their bridge, engineering and defensive stations.

Whilst looking humanoid, the ladies were definitely not human: they had no hair and very large anime style eyes. Other than that they were pretty much female shaped and sized, smart, often funny, particularly when they realised they were in a society that treated females as equals.

“So how do you intend to manage if your males do not surrender?” I asked Vellitee, who had seemingly attached herself with a few others to our medical group.

“There are some Raffagee males who do not hold to the dictate of returning conquest, but the military and political hierarchy are in complete command as they have access to the AIs and all the weapons. They originally held our civilisation together after the dreadful defeat by the Yron. Everything they have done has been to build up our civilisation to enable us to return in such strength as to do to the Yron what they did to us,” she replied.

“Yet they never stopped to formulate a different response once they knew the Yron were no more?” I enquired.

“Not once, what you call the dead area was ours, yet the Yron had destroyed it all in what must have been a dreadful civil war. We do not ... terraform, we never considered it and so we looked at the multiple worlds surrounding the dead area and decided that we would claim them for ourselves.”

“And not once thought to ask for help?”

“It is not the way of the Raffagee political and military controllers to ask for help. Our fleets were born of years of combat with worlds scattered across the galaxy as they took what they wanted and only withdrew if faced by a larger foe or alliance. All to one end, to return home in strength to take back what had been ours. It took many, many generations to build our fleet and the Battlespheres. It might have been more, but the return was always the ultimate aim. It warped our civilisation. Once females and males were equal but those in control demanded all went into the great task and so we females became little more than well-educated slaves to produce ever more Raffagee,” she replied sadly.

“Yes, we studied some of the vast amounts of data in the captured AIs. Your people have won no friends anywhere where they went. Whole planets were looted and civilisations wrecked in your wake and all in a useless venture as these Yron were no more and your original worlds barren lifeless rocks,” I sympathised.

“Yes, we suspect the reason to return was made owing to the fact that there was nowhere else within reach for us to go which hadn’t been looted or had been able to destroy us. Our leaders do not trust anyone ... even their own people and see only fight or flight as options.”

“The various coalitions and agreements the Empire has must have looked strange to them,” I chuckled.

“They saw it as weakness; easily pulled apart by the surrounding enemies. They did not anticipate your unity in destroying three Battlespheres with so few losses. Never have so many been lost. Always it was one or very, very occasionally, two and always with a requisite amount of damage dealt out to the opposing fleet.”

“So they’ll think long and hard before coming at us again?”

“I think so, but they will. The return is everything and they have staked their entire control upon it. If they fail, they will be finished, as, for a lengthy time period, dissent has been growing within the fleet and only the military and the great return hold our people together ... and the cracks are showing too, dissenters are being spaced daily in the civilian vessels as unrest and occasional violence breaks out. They have to return, or go under, it’s the only reason they remain in power now.”

“We’ll probably end up killing an awful lot of them, both innocent and guilty,” I warned.

“I know, but they will not listen to reason or negotiate. They never have, all they fear is strength,” she replied sadly.

“Our people will no doubt be looking into how to bring a Battlesphere down quickly and at no risk to themselves. Hopefully they’ll find a way that leaves the innocent alive to surrender. But it may be that all they can find are means to easily destroy them,” I added in sympathetic tones.

“We know this, but the militant males are mostly based upon the Battlespheres and are unlikely to surrender easily.”

“What of the civilian fleet?” I asked.

“If you can defeat the Battlespheres, the civilian fleet will likely revolt. All that holds them back is the fear of being destroyed by a Battlesphere as an example. Or that is the way I see it and my family too, it may not be the truth, sadly.”

“We’ll see. For the moment you have sanctuary with us and much of our ways are similar to yours as well as your biology for treating injuries.”

“Yes, many of us would love to be Healers or meditechs,” she agreed cheerfully.

“A worthy calling.”

“Yes, Senior Healer Cassire said the same.”


“You withdrew after losing only three Battlespheres?” Senior Administrator Fillamoc asked High Admiral Hooreek in sneering tones.

“Three Battlespheres without finding out just how this enemy were taking them down, yes,” Hooreek replied angrily. “Or does the High Administration expect me to throw away Raffagee lives with seeming indifference to the consequences?”

“You detected one of these weapons, did you not?” Senior Administrator Zillont asked.

“We believe so; however the ships we sent to capture or destroy it found only a completely erased wreck. The enemy had run away rather than face our wrath.”

“Which suggests this weapon is a one shot wonder with little in the way of defensive or short range weaponry.”

“I believe so, yes. However, detecting one until it fired was impossible for us. Nor do we know how the enemy did it, though their beam weapons have a longer range and greater power than ours.”

“And their individual ships are more powerful too, judging by the mauling your symbiont fleets received,” Zillont commented.

“Yes, they are a most deadly foe; one which we clearly underestimated.”

“Suggestions?”

“Use our ‘allies’ to soften them up. If necessary use an individual Battlesphere to bolster an attack. This Empire is limited and soft at its core. All we have to do is draw their fleets to the periphery and then attack from an unexpected direction,” Hooreek replied.

“And should they not be so easily diverted and surround their planets with their ‘Battlesphere killers’?” Senior Administrator Justik asked.

“Then we crush another weaker Realm, one not allied to this Empire. The foolish lizards calling themselves Vraik have enough green worlds to sustain our populations and remove their unrest to unseat us.”

“I suspect this Empire would intervene if we did anyway. We’d be too close to their border planets,” Fillamoc interjected. “It’s not like we have given them reason to trust us.”

“They were at war with the Vraik. Granted they will be on their guard, but if we offer apologies and a non-aggression pact I believe they could be mollified, particularly if we do not commit genocide on these Vraik but instead restrict them to their homeworld.”

“We are Raffagee, we do not negotiate!” Senior Administrator Armac burst out.

“Of course we do, don’t be silly,” Fillamoc replied. “We negotiated with our ‘allies’, getting them to destroy the influence of this Empire on their borders. Some actively, some passively by simply passing on information and allowing transit of pirated goods.”

“The only difference this time is I suggest we negotiate in good faith,” Hooreek added, getting a glare from Armac.

“Are you suggesting we don’t stab them in the back at some future stage?” Zillont chuckled darkly.

“Exactly that. If they can take out a Battlesphere whilst fighting in an outer system, they are probably someone we do not want to betray.”

“We will consider this,” Fillamoc replied. “In the meantime look into supporting the enemies of this Empire’s allies more openly.”

“By your command, Elders,” Hooreek snapped off a salute and left, relieved to simply be alive.


“The Raffagee have pulled out of and taken all their defensive equipment from the dead area.” We were informed by the Captain of the Gentle Breeze via the ship’s AI.

“Wonder if we can track them?” Hiqua mused out loud.

“I suspect we’ll try, but jump drive ships are not easy to track out of the system if they jump randomly,” I replied.

“All I can tell you is that there are few stars where the main fleet lies,” Vellitee added.

“Probably between the arms then,” Morano nodded.

“Most likely,” Cass agreed. “And unless we have an area, we’re not going to find them easily, if at all.”

“So I guess we head back to Vreekoos,” I shrugged.

“My people, including a few males, have been given title to a planet called Coriola,” Vellitee informed us.

“I’m told it’s lovely and has very high mountains,” I replied. “I presume you’re being given set up equipment?”

“Yes and an AI to train us in what’s necessary. We will be able to find work in the off-world shipyard too, if we desire,” she enthused.

“Other colonists?” Morano asked.

“They have been assigned to another continent there. Our leader, Cashen, has spoken to their leader, they are more than happy to have us as the world will need a lot of colonists to become self-governing,” she replied.

“Any issues between your people and mine let me know,” Cass requested. “We don’t normally mix races as it has caused issues in the past.”

“Yes, Cashen broached that with the human colonist leader and he is aware of possible areas of issue. But suggest that each continent rules themselves and that the third continent is where we try out joint ventures.”

“Might work.” I shrugged.

“Yes, it might,” Cass nodded. “It’s not like we don’t have a few humanoid races co-existing in the Empire, having their own space or planet where their rules take precedence.”

“My people are looking forward to living on a planet and discovering weather,” Vellitee giggled, setting Hiqua off as well.

“You’ll either love it or hate it,” Cass chuckled. “Possibly both.”

 
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