Gabatrix: Force and Vehemence

 

About the Author

 

Hello everyone, my name is CMed. I will make it brief and quick about me. I was a college student who got a Major in History before going into the realm of the military. I am a Navy Veteran that has served for six years and wanted to become an author and book writer near the end of my military contract. 

Serving aboard ship was a long and challenging life. It is not for the faint-hearted, but after being taken off of it, I now had more time than ever. I used my time wisely to begin writing books. Writing had and continues to serve as therapy for me. It helped me through my times, even way before diseases or social unrest ever became the main headlines of modern media. 

Writing is something that does not come overnight. Most writers require at least two years of writing before they are even going to be marketing. Needless to say, make sure that you set the time to do so if you wish to be a part of that hobby. If you know somebody that wishes to become an author, make sure to give them that support. Writing is an extension of us and our imagination. Without imagination, our civilizations would never exist. Without imagination, we would have no empathy towards the next person. We all come from different walks of life. Each one of us can tell a story, and it all comes down to our will to survive through the best of times to the worst of times. 

I have designed Tales of Heroes and Gabatrix to be a system that expands itself. If people like my stories, then they can help out that cause. With the help of you, the audience, the system will get bigger and bigger. If you like my stories, then come and support me on my Patreon. Thank you, and enjoy my stories. :)

 

https://www.patreon.com/TheUniverseofCMed

https://www.gabatrix.net

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Disclaimers

Tags: Space, Science Fiction, Future, Sex, Aggressive Sex, Love, War, Swearing, Violence, Blood, Fighting, Action, Sports, Interspecies, Male Human, Female Alien, Scalie, Human/Alien Sex, Size, Intercourse, Consensual Sex, Impregnate, Big Breasts, Breastfeeding, Squirting, M/FF

Disclaimer 1: This story is meant for adults as it contains sex, violence, fighting, cursing, and blood. There is a clear division between the sex and the violence.

Disclaimer 2: This book is an erotica, action, and science fiction rolled into one. Expect scenes of human/alien sex and love. Gabatrix is an ongoing series. It’s highly recommended that the audience reads the earlier stories to enjoy the overall arc of this story.

Artwork by Piero Painter.

Special Thanks to my Patreon supporters:

Quintin Martin, Joshua Nelson, Nindahr, Mr. Darknut, Christof Bradford, Darklord Sengir, Mike Nixon, Nightsound, Anthony Kestle, Vlad Emanuel, and Lynn A Sines, for their generous donations.

Special Thanks to a Shal’rein fan for donating the money necessary to make the book cover for this story. Thank you. 😊

And, of course, the other patron supporters for allowing me to write and supporting the universe that I write. :)

By CMed

Prologue

 

“What is my favorite sport? It’s the one that involves throwing a fist at the other. Unfortunately, it’s usually the one that I’m cheering for first that gets knocked out. But, win or lose, the greatest of fighters are always the ones that keep getting back up,” Gabatrix, at the commissioning of the Martian UWAF arena, 2291 AD.

 

……. It is near the end of 2350. A year of an alliance between the humans and Itreans brings changes, events, and new life….

 

……. Among one of the many parts of such an alliance is not only military cooperation but day-to-day living. Media, sports, and shows are all affected in a brisk of overwhelming new cultural ideals and information…..

 

……. A pair of Shal’rein prisoners of war endure their hardship on the confinement world of Earth. Little do they know that another seeks a diversion in their path, something that will lead to a brighter future for all of them….

Chapter 1: December 2^nd 2350 AD

Space…..the vacuum of nothingness. Yet, even as we stand in the darkness, the twinkling lights of billions of stars fill the void. Like beacons, they are lighthouses in an area supposedly devoid of life. 

How does such a system operate like this? Space is devoid of almost anything. There is so little in matter that it makes it difficult for anything to form. Space is literally too large. The universe that we come from wasn’t like this when we first came into existence. The….Big Bang….as the humans like to call it, was an explosion where their perception of the laws of physics was ultimately created. Indeed, we had our own system of similar laws. However, billions of Earth years ago, space hadn’t expanded to the size that it is now.

As we stand floating in space, we see a cluster of small stars in our view. It is magnified and altered, so we can see many of them in our focal range. The one that causes the greatest attraction of our view is the set of two glowing yellow stars. A single red dwarf star circulates around the binary stars. The humans call this system Proxima due to the close proximity to their home system. Even then, despite the abundance of worlds that revolve around them, humans would see a vast range of nothingness before reaching such a place. Space is like that. Most civilizations, like humans, had a daunting task ahead of them. Everything is distanced apart that it almost seems nigh. As the caretakers of the universe, we truly understand the dilemma that is left behind for each species in their survival. Most never make it, doomed by the hubris of their own civilization or due to the inevitable demise of their homes from outside phenomena. The gift that we leave behind is the only means necessary to help ensure their survival. 

Yet, with so much distance between objects in a realm of little, it may surprise you how much activity does occur in the vacuum of space. The humans had said it best long ago. The chances of getting killed by a meteor impact are 1 in 700,000, given the person’s lifetime and the corresponding mass of the impact of the said meteor. However, even such a statement is not without its criticism. Indeed, it is present that humans really don’t have a definitive account that meteors or meteorites have led to any fatalities. Some claim that some humans have died from falling meteorites, while other reports claim that no data on such events have ever occurred. Yet, the galaxy has seen its share of collisions. Despite all the space available, two objects will eventually hit each other. The amount of force applied between the two objects depends on their mass, composition, and force applied to each other. The angle at which the two hit one another, and gravity also play significant roles. Other outside forces can also affect how impacts can occur.

Collisions are a surprising factor in why life exists in the universe. Two objects meeting one another is why we thrive. It is why the Itreans exist. However, it may come with a price. In one foul strike, a single asteroid millions of Earth years ago would lead to the demise of many of the dinosaurs. Indeed, it almost led to the end of any possible civilization to ever rise from such a hostile action. 

Yet, we already know that the Itreans rose from such a catastrophe. They learned to adapt and move forward, leaving their homeworld to find another place to live. In their place, it would lead to the eventual rise of the human race that we seem so well determined to observe. 

Collisions….it is the act of two objects determined to eventually meet one another. This can be as something simple as two rocks that ram into each other, a fist going into the cranium of an opponent, or sperm finding an egg to fertilize. Every act of collision can have the greatest of consequences. Its results can be minor, but eventually, it may lead to significant future events. Those two tiny rocks may collide, shattering debris in all directions, at which point they will fly to Proxima and smash upon their planets’ surfaces. With it are the building blocks for life to evolve. All because of this simple act. 

Why is this important? Because we will venture to the nearby world of Earth. It seems to be something that forms quite a lot of discussions for all of us. Are humans truly destined to reach ascension? If they do, will they bring the others from their planet along with them? The Itreans have accomplished much in their lifetime. However, what took them millions of years to reach their progression was done in a fraction of the time with humanity. They may still annihilate themselves or face inevitable extinction, but it seems promising to say the least. 

For now, we must venture to Earth. We begin our short trip to the single yellow dwarf star directly ahead of us. In seconds, the star begins to get bigger and bigger. Eventually, we zip past the Oort Cloud and its thousands of tiny asteroids to reach the Sol System. The seemingly isolated star holds its secrets even as the human race has long ventured outward to the worlds beyond. In less than a few seconds, the globe and its moon are revealed. The countless brightly lit dots of spaceships are not far from the moon's surface. Some are commercial vessels bringing their cargo to the trading ports of Luna. Others are shuttles traveling to important routes. A few of the ships are UHN warships, acting as permanent guardians in ensuring human survival as time progresses. We zip past the moon until we can see a better view of Earth. 

By now, the lit rays of the sun illuminate much of the surface. It takes up most of the viewpoint ahead of us. In orbit are a variety of green warships. The humans had long abandoned much of the planet. New homes were found, which many of the former forsaken now enjoy. The surface is covered in a sheen of gray clouds. Any observable hint past the atmosphere is that of an orange-tinted ocean. At the end of the year, Earth will slowly lose its name, replaced with the original title that had been long given to its ancient inhabitants. 

However, despite the wasteland that Earth is, efforts are underway. Even now, old, converted dreadnoughts launch seeding probes to help purify the tainted air. We move in closer and closer into the atmosphere. In moments, we dart through the acidic rain clouds that pour the orange muck onto the dead sands of Earth. Occasional lightning strikes fill the sky. Eventually, we pierce through the clouds to see what was described as South America. By now, almost all life had been ridden, replaced with clay, sand, mud, rocks, bones, and toxic sludge. However, much of the landscape of the original continent is no longer recognizable. What was Brazil has been leached from the risen sea levels. This was the former place of the great tropical rainforests. Instead, the trees are consumed by the ocean or rotten to oblivion. 

Despite all of the scenery, we close in on a series of extensive facilities near the Amazon basin. A hint of clarity can be seen in this region. Past a series of pulsing red-lit areas is that of transparency. The sea that splashes against the beaches is clean of the orange muck. The air is seemingly pure. While the destroyed environment is still present, this area appears to be livable. Even now, the hint of a few humans walking without protective suits trek through this area. What was once a place that only promised death to the unprotected is habitable. The clouds are white and puffy. Even a hint of the sun’s rays’ pierces through, revealing a relatively clean landscape.

The Itrean translation for this area is “Purifier Penitentiary Station 8.” It consists of dozens of constructed warehouses. Large laser fences surround the kilometers of the open field around it. Construction vehicles, mills, and domed buildings line the area. At the edge, corners consist of a few autogun batteries to protect the compound. A landing pad has a shuttle dropping off individuals. This area is busy with activity. Countless Itreans, dressed in green and yellow stripes are tilling the soil with advanced digging syringes. Not far from them are a few guards, fellow Yutilians dressed in green and black wrap armor armed with rifles. 

This is a prison yard, a known controversial issue in the hands of the UWA. Even if Earth had been handed over to the T’rintar clan, the dilemma remains that the planet needs to be cleaned up. Former Itrean prisoners of war and T’rintar criminals are tasked with the role of janitors, cleaning the soil, planting unique trees hardened for harsh climates, and purifying the water. The Itreans are used to war and savagery. Perhaps it is the best choice of action for a race of people that don’t normally take prisoners, but not all humans are comfortable in seeing the former planet being regulated into a prison planet. Even if progress is swift, it will take a considerable time for the world to be completely habitable.

For now, many compounds like this will remain. As more prisoners are brought in, the process is sped up slowly but effectively. Despite the hard work of these POWs, many are edging toward freedom. If it takes years to do so, then they will. Each Itrean has a story to tell, whether they were taken from a battle, surrendered willingly, or are genuinely deranged. The T’rintar clan won’t stop till they get the planet that they bargained for. It is the price of an alliance between the UWA and an Itrean clan that promises to protect them from the utter sheer power that the other Itrean clans consist of. Without the T’rintar, the UWA and humanity are surely lost.

However, the landscape slowly turns green. Inch by inch, meter by meter, the dead will be restored. Even the buildings show hints of vines and flowering fruits that grow along the edges. The price is difficult for paradise to exist. We are near the end of our journey. We zoom into one of the largest buildings. Past the armored walls is a cluster of various rooms. This is the heart of the prison. Itrean guards patrol the enclosed halls. Partial light is given, most likely to conserve power. Clear reinforced transparent alloy line in each room, serving as a door and wall for the prisoners to reside. 

Inside each room are a pair of Itreans. Some are bored, distressed, or exhausted. The women have little to do but sleep in their beds or use the nearby toilet. Occasional tilons of reading material are handed through the small open slots of the door. The metal rods might as well be a currency for each prisoner. 

No two Itrean are truly alike. Some are Yutilians, although they are often few and far between, most of them being the guards. Their greenish armor and green scales are more obvious. Most guards choose to wear their helmets to prevent prisoners from identifying them. Even for the shortest of races, the Yutilians are no laughing matter. They carry the weapons and equipment to keep the prisoners from revolting. Descended from the Velociraptors, they walk on their digitigrade legs, with a metal tail that swings back and forth near their rear ends. From any guard that doesn’t wear their helmets, the women’s feathers jut from their foreheads. Some prisoners are Aksren. Their crested head and snouts are apparent. Descended from the oviraptors, they are almost the same height as the short-statured Yutilians.

Then, there are Shal’rein. Of the three primary races, the Shal’rein are most noticeable. Their shark-like appearances, fin-like arms, ears, and tails can be easily noted. They are much bigger than all humans, Yutilians, or Aksren. One of these women, consisting of dark purple scales and gray tattoos, lightly slaps the door. Her face is grimaced, angry to be held there and hopefully taunting the smaller Yutilian guards that walk past her door. Her teeth are exposed from her snout and mouth, ready to bite down against any type of flesh that dares try to reach her. 

Not far from this Shal’rein is our final resting place. The neighboring room consists of two Shal’rein. One is in her bunk, lying on her back. She has orange scaly skin with red stripes, black hair with blue streaks, and blue eyes. In her hands is a tilon. The metal rods are pulled apart, displaying a screen that the woman intently reads. A hint of a smile could be seen from her pointed snout.

On the other side of the room is another Shal’rein, busy doing push-ups. A sense of familiarity comes from this individual, almost as if we had seen this individual before. Unlike the orange-colored Itrean, this one is slightly bigger, measuring just about 8 to 9 feet in height. She has purple hair and reddish eyes. Her gray and purple scale-striped skin doesn’t hide the fact that she has a heavy muscular frame. Her gray tail protrudes from her rear end, slumped to the side as she uses her knuckles to push her entire body up. Her purple hair is neatly tied up enough that it doesn't hang over her right shoulder. In the woman’s pointed snout is a grimaced face. She almost appears to be in pain, pushing her body to the limit but not caring about it. Her razor-sharp teeth are exposed, and she is breathing hard. At times, she grunts as if she doesn’t want to stop.

“Ergh…..Ergh!” the muscular Shal’rein said as she kept doing her push-ups. Her arms were starting to buckle from the heavy strain.

“Girsha’lar…..,” the other Shal’rein replied in English. “Keep going, and your body will explode….” There was no hint of remorse in how she said it. Her voice consisted of a Japanese, English, and French accent combined with an exaggerated raspiness tone. The way she spoke was similar to the way that a person was whispering as loudly as they could.

“No!” Girsha’lar angrily replied. Her voice had a deeper tone than the relaxed Shal’rein. “Won’t fucking stop! WON”T FUCKING STOP!”

The orange Shal’rein continued to read her story. A picture on her page showed an image of a box in mid-explosion. For a brief moment, there was a hint of happiness on the woman’s face. 

“Mmmm…..the humans know the perfect stories,” the woman commented to Girsha’lar.

“You’re reading that…..,” Girsha’lar grunted. “That same stupid story!?”

“‘The Bomb Man Part 3’ is wonderful.”

Girsha’lar continued to do her push-ups until her arms buckled. It could no longer stand the strain. Her knee anchored her to the hard marble-like floor. She took her fist and slammed it to the ground.

“2035 joules,” the other Shal’rein said. Her head turned to look at her. “You’re troubled.”

“Tired of this……tired of this, Nir’vina. Tired of you…..tired of the same books. Tired of them…..I can’t stand this anymore!”

“It happens every day…,” Nir’vina replied as she closed her tilon and rolled to her side to gaze at the angered Shal’rein. “Talk to me or explode, whichever comes first.”

“I fucking hate them, Nir’vina…….They tell us that we have to work for tomorrow’s shift. Last shift wasn’t fast enough……not quick enough. I told them they should have spread the Shal’rein and Aksren in their teams. Of course, the Shal’rein are faster at their work. The damn equipment is lighter than shit!”

“My mate, they are designed for Yutilians and Aksren,” Nir’vina replied. “They weren’t thinking about Shal’rein. They weren’t expecting to take prisoners at all.”

“She fucking betrayed me……betrayed us……dumped us onto this wasteland of a….”

“I know,” she replied and winced her breath. “I know you are suffering…..just like the rest of us. Don’t worry….In days we will make the big break…..” Her head looked at the door. “Before they know it…..boom.”

“Still chasing your dream of making an explosion big enough to destroy that?” She gestured to the heavily reinforced wall.

“An explosion big enough to clear half this base…it will be glorious.”

Girsha’lar leaned up onto her bed. Her exhaustion was kicking in as she put her hand to her head. “It won’t work. Using your urine to help concoct an explosive was stupid.”

“I just missed having enough ammonia to make the explosive work. The guards are just too smart.”

“They can hear us talk…..they heard you mumbling in your sleep. Before they knew it, they rummaged through your bed and found it.”

Nir’vina smiled and looked away. “Shame….I would have loved to see them try to dismantle it…..then they would have failed and used bombs to disable it. If only I were there to see the explosives used to stop my bomb.”

“You and bombs…..it’s always about the damn bombs.”

“Bombs are good. So pretty and beautiful…..beautiful as you.”

Girsha’lar didn’t seem impressed as she put her hands to her face. “For once….I wish it wasn’t about you and fucking explosives. Even the best of gunsmiths couldn’t reach the demand that you want from them.”

Nir’vina smiled in an almost devious way. “Do you think that my life is always about the biggest explosions?” Her head looked at the structure of the walls. “I want to make bombs……I want to blow up this place.”

“And take us out with it.”

“No….,” Nir’vina pointed her four-digit hand to Girsha’lar. “To help you, because I know you’re suffering. Freedom for us and every one of our sisters that got wrongfully betrayed by the other crewmembers of the Garja. You just believe that if you’re strong enough that you can punch your way out.”

Girsha’lar looked at her hand and flexed them. “It’ll be enough to choke the life of one of the guards…..I’ll go down fighting.”

“That isn’t the way. That will be….”

“HEY!” a wondering Yutilian guard near their door said. “Silence.”

“You talk big ‘Giop,’” Girsha’lar responded to her. She stood up and approached the transparent door. “You’re gun won’t be enough to save you when I’m done with you.”

“Oh, Girsha’lar,” Nir’vina whispered back.

The guard tapped a button on her armor. In seconds, the sound of electricity began to hit Girsha’lar. The Shal’rein began to tense up, fighting the punishment device that was inside of her. Deep down, she knew that the implant on her spinal cord was sending a heavy shock through her body. It wasn’t enough to stop her heart, but it caused pain. Girsha’lar seemed to endure it for a second, but eventually, she began to buckle. Her grunts got louder until the guard pushed the button to stop the device. Finally, Girsha’lar’s knee pressed to the ground. She was gasping for air and quickly regained her strength. Her face of anger was shown to the guard.

“One more time,” the guard threatened her. “I’ll send a shock so strong that you’ll be working in….what the humans call a wheelchair. Silence….‘Giop.’”

The guard resumed her walk without a care in the world. Girsha’lar’s rage was held from within. She hadn’t noticed that Nir’vina had approached her. Her hand was pressed to the muscular woman’s back. 

“Fuck…..fuck…….fuck….,” Girsha’lar said. She almost swatted Nir’vina’s hand away, but she was too weak to do it. Instead, the other Shal’rein used her hand to help lift Girsha’lar to the bed slowly.

“The spinal implants prevent us from fighting them,” Nir’vina told her. “You know this, and yet you taunt them every day.”

“I want them to see it….” A tear began to roll down Girsha’lar’s face. She was doing her best to fight her emotions. “I want them to see my rage……I wish we were dead.”

“No…..,” Nir’vina waved her finger at her. “We will escape. You told me yourself. The humans and T’rintar lie to us….make us work in cleaning a planet that humans care nothing for. Make us learn their language. Then they sleep in their happy little dens…..fuck each other as we do their dirty work.”

“Yes….,” Girsha’lar sneered. “They can hold us for seven months. It won’t work. We won’t give in to their demands. The others may see it, but we see through their propaganda.”

“And when the time comes, I’ll make sure to slip a grenade in that guard’s mouth. Watch her eat it and see how wrap armor contains an explosion.”

Nir’vina took her finger and gently played with Girsha’lar’s head. “Yes……yes…..” Girsha’lar replied with a sense of relief on her face. “We’ll get out…..all of us.”

“That’s a good mate….douse the flint…..gather more gunpowder…..the bigger the explosion. One that will be big enough to get us out…..together.”

Girsha’lar’s hand went to Nir’vina’s. In less than a second, they gripped each other like a vice. Nir’vina always knew that Girsha’lar needed companionship when she needed it the most. It was the only way to quell her soul and try to keep her sane in the countless days since they were taken as a prisoner of war.

“Sometimes….I see those humans….” Girsha’lar told her. “Then….I want one of their men…..force them down…... Like…..,” she took her hand and put it to her forehead. “Like I haven’t had a male in ten years. The man’s face is….it won’t go away, Nir’vina. It won’t go away. That bearded man we took on the Garja….he won’t….I…..I’ve been here too long.”

“Shhhh,” Nir’vina slowly hushed her. “He’s gone…..he won’t come back.”

Nir’vina could see that Girsha’lar was using her anger to disguise her repression. There was sadness in her voice, even if it was minor. The tedium in the work schedules and backbreaking work had been taking their toll. It wasn’t as if the T’rintar were merciless. However, no Itrean species was truly used to taking prisoners at all. The surrounding environment was still pristine and had at least some level of comfort in it. But a prison was still a prison. The walls always seemed to be closing in on Girsha’lar. 

However, Girsha’lar could feel a hand grapple onto her large right breast. The hand of the orange-colored Shal’rein was squeezing it. The fabric of Girsha’lar’s shirt was showing hints of getting damp.

“Not now…” Girsha’lar almost pushed Nir’vina’s hand away.

“You need relief…,” Nir’vina replied with a smile.

Girsha’lar tried to ignore it. “I'm not in the mood.”

“It hasn’t stopped you from enjoying our time……you could use a little…..diffusing.”

“Ever since we became mates, my breasts started to lactate,” Girsha’lar commented. Then, she gave a disgruntled look at her. “They got bigger…..."

“Heh….,” Nir’vina chuckled.

“Argh!” Girsha’lar practically swatted her away. She stood up with her fists bound together. “It’s them doing this! They’re experimenting on us!”

“Do you think the T’rintar are responsible for this?”

“It has to be,” Girsha’lar sneered at the door. “They know we fuck….now they use us as ‘Kignos.’ What better way to find ways to improve their own Shal’rein than use us to run their experiments.”

“Yes….,” Nir’vina seemed to show a hint of rejection.

Girsha’lar knew that their situation was placed into an odd spectacle. Even if the two had become mates, the fact remained that the occasional guard would see it. At times, the two had to brave the elements and run with their feelings. Thankfully, there were no rooms or prisoners on the other side of the hallway due to the building’s construction. 

A large, deep, echoing alarm radiated from the prison hallway. A distant guard slapped the butt end of her rifle to the floor. Girsha’lar and Nir’vina had been all too used to hearing such sounds. 

“Inspection….,” Girsha’lar said.

“Let’s go,” Nir’vina replied.

“Everyone out! Exit and put your hands to the wall!” The guard yelled.

The doors to the cells opened. Both Girsha’lar and Nir’vina begrudgingly got out of bed and left the room. Upon exiting their cell, they could see the other prisoners do the same. There was no room to resist an action they had been doing since their arrival. A few guards had piled up at opposite sides of the hall. Their rifles were at the ready as all the prisoners left.

“Hands on the wall!” One of the guards said to one of the hesitant neighboring prisoners. Both Girsha’lar and Nir’vina complied. They placed the palm of their hands onto the wall and remained on standby, their heads glued to the wall.

“Good,” another guard said. Girsha’lar could see from her peripheral vision the neighboring prisoner. The woman’s teeth were bared, ready to fight anything that lived beyond the cell doors. 

“Don’t you fucking try…,” Girsha’lar whispered in the direction of the partially deranged neighbor. “Attack me, and I’ll kill you.”

“Heh…,” the neighbor replied. She did nothing else as one of the guards, a black, green, and white striped armored Yutilian, stepped out to inspect the prisoners. Girsha’lar already knew of the recent ‘ion’o,’ the warden of the prison facility. She was annoying and meticulous in her actions. However, she was better than the previous warden, who seemed to enjoy routinely torturing prisoners who failed to meet their quotas. However, this ion’o would regularly walk with an energy baton in hand, tapping the blunt end to her armored shoulder.

“Look at you…,” the ion’o said in her light-butchered English. “Improvement in demands of soil cleans is good. Shifts are slower than others…..but we will meet demand. Itrea will be clean….clean enough to eat from the dirt you drop foods on.”

Girsha’lar could hear the talon-clawed metal feet near her. She was behind Nir’vina as the orange Shal’rein remained still. There was a light tapping as the warden tapped the blunt end of her baton on Nir’vina’s hip.

“Nir’vina…,” the ion’o said with several clicks in her voice. “No explosives on you this time?”

“None,” Nir’vina replied.

“We disarmed it. Made a small crater….near the edge of the perimeter.”

Girsha’lar could see it on the edge of her peripheral vision. Nir’vina seemed to show a smile on her face, but it was more than that. She knew it was hints of accomplishment and even sexual gratification. She took a breath as if she imagined it was happening. The ion’o left her alone and passed by Girsha’lar. 

The guards were ready to tap the buttons on their wrist devices. Their focus was on the neighboring Shal’rein by Girsha’lar. They knew that ion’o was in mild danger with this woman. However, the Shal’rein remained placid and did nothing as the warden stepped past her. It didn’t take long for the ion’o to reach the other end of the hallway. She turned and faced everyone.

“The human’s United Affair Division has arranged show for some of you,” the ion’o explained. “They demand changes with prison. We comply….but because T’rintar say so. Maybe if some be good, quotas will drop. Be better, and you may see freedom. Jessik’to, Frendi, Girsha’lar, and Nir’vina. You have been selected from Section C3 to watch the show. Step out and follow the guards. Enjoy your times….”

Girsha’lar, Nir’vina, another Shal’rein, and an Aksren woman stepped away from the wall. They turned from the warden and began to head North slowly. Girsha’lar was wondering what this “show” was going to be. She already knew the other two Itreans were not known troublemakers. If anything, they were on the verge of being released in the following months. So, the question was why she and Nir’vina were chosen. There was only one way to find out….

 

*******

 

It took half an hour, but a collection of various prisoners, at least twelve in all, were gathered. They assembled near the pristine Amazon River, at least five kilometers of crystal-clear water from where the filtering probes had been operating. Here, the orange muck could not touch the area. Efforts made by the prisoners of war had been working. This area showed hints of green grass and healthy trees that grew near the shores.

A line of at least five guards escorted the prisoners near the shores. There, a small gathering of people, at least three humans and a Shal’rein, resided. 

“What is this?....” Girsha’lar quietly questioned.

“A show…,” Nir’vina replied.

“A show of what?”

They continued to walk closer. Upon passing a cluster of bushes and ferns, Girsha’lar could see that the humans were dressed in blue and white attire. The ones dressed in white, a man and a woman, appeared to be possible medical staff. The familiar red and blue cross could be seen on their uniforms. They stood quite a distance from the cluster of prisoners. They briefly looked at the group before turning their gaze toward the shoreline. 

However, at the edge of the splashing waves of clean water was a human male and a Shal’rein woman. The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties, having short black hair, a light bronze complexion, and facial features similar to a person born in former India. He was bare-chested and wore long blue swimming trunks. 

The Shal’rein woman was obviously taller than the man she stood next to. She had a rounded snout, light blue scale skin, and green hair that flowed down her shoulders. She was also naked. One hand held the man’s hand, and the other seemed to be near her stomach. Seeing the couple was difficult for the group since their backs were pointed toward them. 

“Why are they doing this?” An Aksren prisoner asked. Her voice was light and edgy.

“They brought us here in hopes of showing that we can be good little T'rintar citizens,’” Girsha’lar replied with a hint of anger in her voice.

“Is that what this is?” The Aksren seemed to bear her teeth a little bit. For once, Girsha’lar felt like she had something in agreement with the Aksren woman.

“Everyone stop…,” the guards informed the prisoners. “We’ve arrived.”

The group wasn’t that far from the shoreline. They were at least twenty feet from the couple. They seemed to ignore the prisoners, but the other humans turned to address the crowd. It was the man that broke the silence.

“Hello, to all of you,” he spoke. He had a pale complexion, red hair, and a tablet in hand. His calm demeanor did seem to have an effect on the prisoners. Humans were the enemy to most of these prisoners, but less so than the T’rintar were. It almost appeared that this was a calculated maneuver, but only to a slight degree. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Another Shal’rein prisoner gestured with her hand. The anger could be seen on her face. “We’re brought here to watch the couple fuck!?”

“A T’rintar Shal’rein….traitorous Shal’rein,” Girsha’lar added. 

The male human raised his hand, but it was only to stop the guards from unleashing their stun devices on the prisoners. Nevertheless, the gesture seemed to help in favor of the human. A few of the prisoners were almost expecting the heavy electrical shock that would have riddled their bodies. Even Girsha’lar almost seemed to brace it as well, but it didn’t happen.

“My name is Doctor Gunter,” the man explained to the prisoners. “I’m sure that many of you were asking why you are here. I’m part of the United World’s Alliance Affairs Department. We understand the treatment that all of you have had to go through.”

“No, you don’t,” Nir’vina replied.

“I know enough….I know that all of you were held against your will. Many of you wish to be free from these confines. We want to…..”

Girsha’lar grimaced. The humans were liars. They had to be. She tried to flush out the words of the enemy. They were trying to turn her…..turn her to betray her own kind. This was unacceptable. Girsha’lar was no traitor to her people. 

“Lies….,” Girsha’lar swung her hand in the air. “You care nothing but for us to clean the shit on a world you trashed.”

Many of the prisoners were unconvinced as the man was cut out. The human didn’t seem dissuaded. If anything, he was almost expecting them to respond.

“We are here,” the man continued. “Because we know that you come from worlds….governments that tell you that we aren’t to be trusted. We have not forgotten you. It’s our goal to see you eventually gain your freedom.”

“Eventually?” The Aksren replied. “Human lies.”

“How about letting us go, now?” Girsha’lar sneered. 

“Yes…..,” Another Shal’rein added with a hint of glee in her rounded face. “Let us go, and we will be on our way….”

“You know that I don’t have that power.”

“Then don’t waste our time with this…..,” Girsha’lar gestured to the couple. “This act of.....perversion.”

“Heh…..let them fuck,” another Shal’rein said. “I get to watch…. masturbate to their eventual demise.”

“We are here so that we can bring the truth to you,” the man continued. “Today, you will see the birth of new life…..life that your clan has been withholding from you.”

This seemed to freeze some of their arguments. The prisoners were obviously skeptical, but it was enough to shut them up to adhere to whatever they were suggesting. Finally, the couple turned to face the prisoners. The Shal’rein woman that was holding onto her mate’s hand was pregnant, very pregnant. This was what her other hand was holding to. Her belly was extended outward as far as a pregnant woman of her size could reach. Even now, a small amount of fluid had begun to flow from her vaginal entrance. It was a clear indication that her water broke.

Girsha’lar was perplexed. Nir’vina put her hand to her chin at the prospect. Were they brought to watch a birth? It was the least expected event that any of the prisoners could ever imagine. However, a few almost anticipated this. A few knew of the prospects of what the rumored T’rintar ‘porn propaganda’ had suggested.

“I know what all of you are thinking,” the pregnant Shal’rein told them. “My name is Crenda….I was like you. When the T’rintar clan told us that we were allied with the humans and that the humans were the cure, I thought they were lies. I thought that my own clan was telling us lies.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Girsha’lar asked. 

“I was once like you. I was a thief. I served my time until my release. Then I found a mate….” She looked at the human and gave a gentle smile to him. “I carry his child.”

A few of the prisoners seemed to give confusing looks at one another. Not all of them knew that humans and Itreans were sexually compatible. Girsha’lar's eyes looked away briefly. However, to see the rounded belly of the Shal’rein and the fact that she was about to give birth was new to her. Even Nir’vina remained silent.

"The cure….," the Aksren said. "No…..these are lies. You are deceiving. You are pregnant….pregnant from ivon! Pregnant with female!"

"I saw the scans," Crenda told them. "I came here so you will believe….to give you a second chance just as my mate has given me a second chance. I ask you to watch and believe."

Girsha'lar and Nir'vina, and the other prisoners watched as the pregnant Shal'rein began to concentrate. Since her water had already broken, she didn't have to do much else. Labor was a much easier process for Itreans than human beings ever had to worry about. 

Crenda began to take deep breaths as she walked further into the water. It didn't take long until her digitigrade legs were a quarter way in the water. She turned around, faced the group, and separated her legs a little bit. There was just enough space in the water for the others to see her vaginal slit. One of the human women and the other medical staff was ready to walk into the water. However, Crenda held her hand out to stop and halt her advance. 

"This proves nothing!" One of the prisoners yelled out. "You show birth! I gave birth until the T'rintar kill them."

Girsha'lar turned her head to see a Shal'rein prisoner. She had a pointed snout with purple scale skin. Her tail and arm had a YO-like-shaped black tattoo symbol. It was the Itrean symbol for "Death of Family." Such a symbol was both tragic and a sign of vengeance. Girsha'lar didn't know this woman personally, but to have that symbol on the arm only meant that you desired to kill the enemy for the sake of revenge.

"Were you….pregnant with son?" Crenda asked as she began to make gentle pushes with her body.

"Yes….die in womb. Killed by Zilik's Disease, a T'rintar' Genz'kash!'"

"You……you don't….," Crenda closed her eyes.

The very discussion seemed to bring a tear to the tattooed Shal'rein. Her heart was filled with anger, but everyone could only watch. A part of Girsha'lar was tempted to turn away. The rumors had to be accurate, deep-hidden rumors. It spread through the prison. Some felt disgusted at the very idea, but was this what was about to happen? Could it be true? 

A minute had gone by. Crenda's vaginal slit slowly opened. A tiny head was emerging. The human mate waddled through the water to stand next to Crenda. He took his wife's hand and held onto it tightly. A few of the prisoners put their hands to their snouts or mouths, trying to hold back their disgust. For Girsha'lar, curiosity was slowly taking over. To her, the very concept was odd. Great care was taken to organize this event. 

"Heh…," Nir'vina seemed to chuckle a little bit to herself. "She's going to explode with what her mate gave her."

Girsha'lar turned to look at her. "You believe in all this bullshit?"

"I see this….looks real."

"Is this some sort of trickery?"

"No tricks," Crenda replied. She refocused her efforts and applied more force between her legs. Shal'rein births were relatively easy. There was no pain in the woman's face, although births were even easier in the water. However, they probably knew that it was possible to stage a "mock birth," dip in the water, then pull out some fake baby grown in a lab and planted there before the prisoners arrived. Everything was directly there in front of their eyes to physically see it. Even Girsha'lar was starting to be convinced that she saw a live birth.

A little more water fell from Crenda's vagina. A set of small, pointed ears and pointed snouted head protruded from the Shal'rein's opening. Crenda was careful to put her hand on the crowning head. She made sure not to cover what they were seeing and was only helping the baby that was coming out of her.

"What does this prove?" Girsha'lar asked. "That humans and Itreans can have kids together?"

"Perhaps we should at least entertain this…," Nir'vina replied. "Half the babies are dead when they come out."

There was a hint of insidiousness in her voice, but Girsha'lar knew what she meant by that. Even if this Crenda gave birth, males would be stillborn. A part of Girsha'lar would be enthralled with that idea, to see the willing happy mother be devastated when she found out her child was never meant to live. The possibility of a stillborn birth weighed in the deepest of Itrean souls. However, Crenda wasn't showing signs of possible trepidation.

Instead, the Shal'rein woman continued to push. She separated her legs even more as a head protruded from her vaginal entrance. The shark-like snout could be seen. Another hard push from her and the shoulders would have been next. There were hints of signs that the baby was already squirming. Its eyes were still closed. 

"Why?" Another prisoner asked. "Why are you? Why did you bring us here!?"

"Keep watching," Gunter said.

"I demand to be put back in my cell!"

"You will watch!" one of the guards told her. 

Girsha'lar crossed her arms and watched. Let the scene happen. Let them waste their time.

After a minute, the prisoners watched as Crenda took a deep breath and pushed again. Her tail moved, splashing water about as the baby fell out of her vaginal opening. The man was a little slow, but Crenda caught it with her hands. A small amount of remaining water leaked out. Unlike the typical birth of a human, there was little, if no, blood at all. There wasn't even an umbilical cord that came out. 

"Congratulations," a prisoner mocked. "Can we go now? I got shit to do tomorrow."

"Wait….," another prisoner said. "A boy?"

Crenda breathed a sigh of relief. The labor process was over. She held onto a tiny infant. It had a slight amount of hair on its forehead, pointed ears, and a rounded snout. It also had a familiar shark tail and fined arms. Unlike an original Shal'rein, its genitals were similar to a human male with a single penis. It was a curious sight for the Itrean prisoners as they knew it was a boy.

"Ha," Girsha'lar laughed. "Knew it….dead baby. I'm tired of seeing this. There isn't…."

Crying could be heard. It was coming from the baby. Almost every prisoner froze in place as they listened to the baby crying. They stood in shock at what had happened. Nir'vina kinked her head a little bit as Girsha'lar leaned her head a little bit. 

Crenda and her mate slowly walked out of the river and onto the shore. The Shal'rein mother had a gentle smile on her face as if she knew that this was going to be their reaction. 

"Not possible," one of the prisoners said.

"A trick?" the Aksren prisoner added.

"No," another said. "We just fucking saw it."

"It is all true!" Crenda said as she held her crying baby up a little bit. She stepped onto the sandy shore and slowly approached the group of prisoners. The guards, admittedly, even showed a hint of surprise as well. The newly made parents took the risk of coming to the group so they could get a closer look.

"I am one of many!" Crenda continued as she continued to hold her crying infant for them to see. "The humans have a gene that is transferred to my newborn son. Zilik's Disease, the sickness we carry, can't hurt them. Males can be born again! All species. All Itreans!"

"It's true…..the rumors I heard," one of the prisoners added. "This was arranged so we could witness this…."

"The humans have the cure…." The tattooed Shal'rein said. "You have a son!? Itrea's Embrace. May I see it? I must see it."

The guards were ready, but Doctor Gunter was sure that the prisoners wouldn't do any harm. If anything, they just stood in absolute shock. Even Girsha'lar couldn't believe what she was seeing. A living breathing Shal'rein baby boy. 

"It's……it can't be possible," Girsha'lar reacted.

"You are your mate have been together for one Earth year?" Nir'vina questioned her.

"Yes," Crenda said. "As soon as the alliance was made…..I met and married my husband. I was stunned as you all were just now when I was told I would have a son."

By now, the Shal'rein mother had lowered her arms to cradle her baby. Many of the prisoners had different reactions, from happiness to contentment. Some were left speechless. Others almost outstretched their hands as if the baby was some messiah born from the heavens to bless all of them.

Crenda saw the tattooed Shal'rein. Girsha'lar was standing next to the baby. She took the risk and gently handed her newborn to her. The prisoner took the infant and looked at it. At closer inspection, Girsha'lar could see five-digit fingers instead of four. She could note the eye color was similar to Crenda's mate. The tattooed Itrean remained in total shock. Her facial emotions were saying it all. It was as if all her hatred and anger melted away. Each second was like a minute. She began to shake a little bit before a tear fell from her eyes. With one free hand, she put it to her mouth as if the Itreans' greatest dilemma had come to an end.

"I did this…." Crenda told them. "Because I know that your clan was holding the truth from you. There's no need to hold your anger. You can have a new life….a new beginning for all of you, free from Zilik's Disease. No longer do we have to live in fear….just as I was years ago. We no longer need to have a war to ravage us." She paused for a little bit. "His name will be Ind'ren."

"No more Zilik's Disease….," another prisoner said. 

"Itrea's Embrace," the tattooed Shal'rein said again. Her voice had fallen into a whimper. It was too much for her. She handed the infant to Girsha'lar. In mere moments, the saddened Shal'rein kneeled in the dirt. All the painful memories of her past births, to watch the stillborns or deaths that every Itrean mother had to see. It was gnawing cancer that could never be cured. But, finally, after all these years, the obscure alien race, the humans, were the key to Itrean survival. It was actual evidence in front of Girsha'lar's eyes. 

"No more ivons," another prisoner commented as she turned to look at the guards. "Males being born again…..we don't need ivons anymore. I don't want to be ivon anymore…..change me back! CHANGE ME BACK!" There was so much energy being poured into her words, that she was smacking her chest and pleading them to do it.

The guards, for once, actually sympathized. It was likely that some of them were ivons. 

Nir'vina could see the reactions from Girsha'lar and the others. There were so many questions that Girsha'lar wanted to ask as the squirming infant opened his eyes and peered into her very soul. It was almost as if her sins, the very things that followed her, had been washed away. How long had she been holding onto Ind'ren? She didn't know. It was the life-changing moment that she needed. 

She handed the baby to Nir'vina. From there, she could see her mate hold onto the baby. Nir'vina was a wildcard. However, in mere seconds, a big smile had grown on her face. The orange Shal'rein would even jolt her arms a little bit, instinctively, to give comfort to the infant. 

"How are we supposed to have this…. 'new beginning?'" Girsha'lar asked. She turned her head to look at the doctor. A hint of frustration could be seen on her face. 

"We're working on that," Doctor Gunter said. "Rest assured to all of you that we will help you. Listen to what the T'rintar clan offers you and take it."

Girsha'lar knew that it might have been an empty promise as she looked at the gleaming sunlight of Sol. So many things had been empty promises, but seeing what she saw now, she knew there was no turning back. The Shal'rein clan had become utterly obsolete the moment Zilik's Disease could be overcome. However, lingering echoes of the past filtered into her mindset. Nightmares would return, but for now, she had a purpose. Something had to be given. The question was, how?..

Chapter 2: March 23^rd, 2351 

 

"And here coming in is Mikael, the Blue Pounder….Olsson!" an overhead announcer yelled from the speakers.

Over three months had passed. The human crowd lifted in an uproar. The arena had been set, and every seat had been filled. Numerous cameras and camera drones littered the sports dome. Mars had always seen its share of sports. This was no different. Even by the 24th century, it had evolved some, but the basics remained the same. The red and blue carpets lined both sides of the entrances. The words "UWAF Arena 50th Anniversary" logo had already been neatly woven into the fabric as a man stepped past the doors. A set of fireworks erupted, combined with a set of neon blue and red lights. Music even engaged combined with heavy grunge guitars and future dubstep mixed together.

Mikael was a bruiser in his own right. He had a pale complexion, short-cut brown hair, red and blue shorts, and muscles that protruded from his arms and bare chest. Most likely, he was a man born in former Sweden. A small scarf with a gold crest was worn around his shoulders that glimmered from the faint spotlight hovering over him. The moment that Mikael came out, the audience cheered the name: "Olsson! Olsson! Olsson!"

"RAH!" Mikael roared as his gloved fists were in the air. Then, he triumphantly marched down the carpet to the center floor.

"Looks like the grand champion is ready to reclaim his standing," one of the male announcers said. There was a hint of a dainty voice, having a hint of a Chinese accent mixed into it. 

"Don't count your bets on him, Chen," another announcer said. "Olsson has his hands full this year, and we know it."

"Well, this year has been something. I have a feeling that Olsson is going to win this one. Everyone always thinks that his arms do the talking, but those feet, woof! It gets everyone, every time."

The center arena consisted of a basic thin metal fence. It was elevated, but the seats were set in a concave pattern to allow as many viewers to see it as possible. The same emblem of the UWAF was written on the white center floor. Various tables and chairs lined the fence's edge. This allowed the coaches, referees, and medical staff to be on standby if need be. In one area of the theater was a small room. It was heavily lit and consisted of two seats. This was the announcers' room where the two men that were placating the events resided. One of them was of Chinese descent with red and black hair and wore a red uniform. The other individual had long black hair that ran down one side of his face. He had a pale complexion, almost as if he were descended from the former United States. He had a big goatee on his chin, and his attire was glamorous, consisting of white and gold that flowed down one side of his body. Even his voice almost sounded familiar.

That was a preview of Gabatrix: Force and Vehemence. To read the rest purchase the book.

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