Galactic Rangers
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2010 by aubie56

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Bill O'Connor, a high school sophomore, dies rather ignominiously and is resurrected as a cyborg. He has an AI for a brain that is programmed to be as close to the real Bill O'Connor as possible, but he had a few improvements. His youth and his human resourcefulness makes him an excellent agent for the Galactic Rangers. Join him as he ventures through the universe saving civilizations and generally having a ball. This is really heaven for a boy like Bill! The sex is good, too!

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Consensual   Science Fiction   Humor   Superhero   First   Violence   Military  

Before we left our base, we were issued camouflaged uniforms made of the same material as the energy resistant robes. A separate hood and gloves went with the outfit, so we were completely protected, yet we were still difficult to spot in a typical woodland environment.

For lack of any place better to start, we were transported back to that R&D complex where we'd had the big fight. With just Anfon and me in the detail, we were able to move more easily without being spotted. Anfon was carrying one of the special RPGs, so we had some high power defense if we needed it. This was a very nice division of labor, since Anfon was more comfortable with the RPG, and I was more comfortable with the pistol. We were both good shots with either weapon, it was just a matter of personal preference.

We managed to get all the way to the complex without seeing any of the enemy. Did that mean that we had killed all of them, or did it mean that they were avoiding us? We had detectors with us that would pick up the presence of any living being any larger than a small dog, so we were sure that there had been no one to spot us.

We decided that we were going to have to show ourselves if we were going to get any reaction from the locals. We combined that with a recon that took us to an altitude of 750 feet. We spotted some motion at the far side of the complex, so we took out at our maximum speed in that direction. It took us only 37 seconds to get there, but whoever it was had already disappeared. That left us with only one conclusion: whoever is was had gone underground.

We did a careful examination of the immediate vicinity and finally located the cover to a set of steps. It was merely a matter of pushing a button to get the cover to open, and there were the steps, fully exposed. Yeah, and there we were fully exposed to an avalanche of laser bolts fired in our direction. I yelled out in the local language that we only wanted to talk, but that was ignored. Our uniforms were doing an excellent job of absorbing the laser beams, but the suits were being overloaded, as evidenced by the fact that they were warming up. Either we had to win this fight pretty damned soon, or we had to run away. Our suits were reaching their limit on protection.

I had tried replying to the laser fire with my .45, but these shooters had the sense to hide behind something, so my only chance of getting a solid hit would be with a ricochet. In desperation, we tried the only option left to us: Anfon fired an RPG down the stairs.

We couldn't tell if we had killed everybody down there, but the lasers stopped coming our way, so we were grateful for that. Fortunately, our uniforms cooled rapidly, so we were soon ready to venture down the stairs. There was considerable devastation resulting from the blast of the RPG, but we worked our way around that without too much trouble.

We had just cleared the rubble when a laser hit me square in the chest. Thank God for the protective uniform. Instead of shooting back, I called out, "DON'T SHOOT, PLEASE! WE JUST WANT TO TALK! AFTER THAT, WE PROMISE TO LEAVE WITHOUT DOING ANY MORE HARM!"

"GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW, YOU BLASPHEMERS! YOU ARE SOILING OUR SACRED GROUND BY YOUR MERE PRESENCE!"

"WE CAN'T DO THAT! WE MUST TALK TO SOMEONE BEFORE WE LEAVE! IT IS A SACRED DUTY FOR US THAT WE HAVE SWORN TO UPHOLD! PLEASE COME OUTSIDE TO TALK TO US! THEN WE WILL LEAVE!"

"DO YOU SWEAR ON YOUR SOUL THAT YOU WILL DO THAT?"

"YES, I DO! WE WILL LEAVE IF YOU WILL TALK TO US!"

"VERY WELL, I WILL COME TO THE SURFACE TO TALK TO YOU! MY SOUL MAY BE WITHERED BY THE CONTACT WITH INFIDELS, BUT I WILL MAKE THE SACRIFICE!"

After a few more words with the other person, we all adjourned to the surface. I was totally surprised to find that we were dealing with a religious fanatic. Anfon didn't even know what that was!

"Why have you come to defile our holy ground with your unbelieving presence?"

"How do you know that we are unbelievers? We may actually believe in the same thing, but just don't know it. Let's talk about your beliefs, and we may find some common ground."

"Ah, I had never considered that! Always before, when strangers came, they wanted to destroy this holy site. We priests of Reason have been forced to fight to protect it. You can see the damage that has already been inflicted on this site of holy Reason by previous interlopers. When some of you people came the last time, you killed nearly a hundred of our priests and acolytes and completely destroyed the last four of our remaining holy structures."

"This was a grievous misunderstanding! We worship Reason, too, and were here to learn as much as we could from the holy records. At that time, we could not speak your language, so we could not explain our reason for showing up. We only shot at your people in self defense. We would have tried to explain our reason for being here if you had only given us a chance.

"The four structures you refer to were not destroyed. We have a device that can move items of any size through space in an instant. We only took the structures away from here because we were afraid that they might be harmed before we could make ourselves understood. We will return them when we have stabilized their molecular structure so that they will not deteriorate any further. Is that agreeable?"

"Certainly, we have not been able to find such a preserving technique. Your help with that would pay us back for all of the grief that you have caused us so far! If you can do that, you will be welcomed as brothers in the faith of Reason, and will be allowed to see the sacred relics that we have stored underground."

"That is excellent! Please excuse me while I find out the status of the preservation process." I called our base and explained the situation to date. I was told that the preservation process was finished on two of the buildings, and the other two would be finished in two more days. The two completed buildings could be returned this afternoon, and the other two would be sent out as soon as they were ready.

The priest thanked me profusely, and I found out that he was at the top of the religious hierarchy, somewhat comparable to the Catholic Pope back on Earth. His title was Reverend Engineer. In the course of our conversation, I found out that he and his group had been working for centuries to try to recover the lost art and science (it was the same thing) of his homeland across the ocean.

He was descended from slaves brought in to labor for their conquerors at menial jobs. He had nothing but contempt for the engineering prowess of their conquerors. Those people had only realized their inadequacies when it was too late. Several generations had passed, and his people had lost their engineering touch. They tried, but could not preserve the level of civilization their ancestors had known.

Eventually, there had been a successful slave revolt, and the slaves now became the masters. Otherwise, not much was changed because the civilization had drifted down too far. His people did what they could, but they were no longer able to compensate for the natural resources squandered in the war. Especially, their skill in polymer chemistry (plastics) had been lost, so the vanished metals could not be replaced.

The result was that the population had shrunk to only a few hundred thousand, most of whom lived on subsistence farming. If they did not get help pretty soon, they were all going to die out.

OK, that was the key we needed to justify our occupation of a section of Inglon. The galaxy could provide the know-how to bring civilization back to the people of the planet, that know-how would pay for the territory needed. Later, commerce could develop which would be to the advantage of both sides.

The Reverend Engineer called together the rest of his flock, about 200 people, and we fed them lunch from our replicators. It was a long and tedious process, but everybody got as much as he wanted to eat, many for the first time in their lives.

 
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