Teens in Space: The Zadon Wars (part 9-The Raid on Xenon)

The Zadons launch a surprise attack in Alpha Quadrant

Galactic Date 5122.504

Alpha Quadrant

0200 The village of Xenon lies wrapped in darkness. Named after the inert gas found in trace amounts in the nearby mineral springs, Xenon is only 10 miles away from the bustling metropolis of Xaron, but it might as well be a world away. Set in one of the more desolate portions of Alpha, it’s an outpost of human civilization on the extreme habitable edge of the quadrant, with a population of roughly 2,000 inhabitants. For the last hour or so, Tara, an 18 year old cadet, has been uneasy. Stationed in the watch tower on the outskirts of the village, she’s picked up infrared signatures with her nightscope but the quality of her instrument’s optics is so poor, she can’t identify what the distant shapes are. Probably xentiles, the lizard-like creatures commonly found in this arid part of Alpha, she muses, but the shapes remain stationary, very unlike the reptiles that usually scurry about so rapidly over the landscape. The intelligent, pretty redhead makes another cup of strong Vizgarian brew coffee and ponders whether to call her lieutenant. Nah…I better not wake her up…probably just xentiles or maybe even some geothermic anomaly from one of the mineral springs. Nothing to worry about, the perky cadet reassures herself, looking out over the slumbering village and taking another sip of her coffee…

Not everyone in Xenon is asleep. The tall, redheaded 17 year old works his hips feverishly, grunting loudly as he thrusts deep into his partner’s snatch. An off-duty space trooper sergeant, the stud is breaking a dry spell; this is the first pussy that he’s had in two weeks and he’s been making up for lost time by fucking his blonde, 38 year old MILF companion for most of the night. The MILF screams in ecstasy as the freckle faced stud smashes her into another climax with his 9 inch tool; he’s still not ready to cum and delayed ejaculation for him means more orgasms for her. The stud endures for an extended period, pushing his muscular body to the limit, throwing his full weight into each thrust of his hips. He hammers the MILF into two more orgasms and then, finally, his forearms quivering, he can endure no longer and his nuts start to spasm. He groans, almost in agony; the forceful contractions in his balls are almost painful as they draw deeply on his depleted genetic reservoir. His first ejaculation tonight had hurled thick, white globs of cum into the MILF; now his tool spurts a thin, watery spray of DNA droplets. “Oh fuck!” he gasps; his last few ball spasms are just dry heaves. He pulls out and flops down onto the bed, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. “Five times!” he gasps proudly, breathless after his carnal workout. “Five…? No way, baby! Eight! You fucked me eight times…I’ve been keeping count!” the MILF assures him happily, sliding herself into his sweaty embrace. “Eight fucking…times…!” the stud gasps in disbelief, amazed by his own stamina. “Oh my gawd, baby…you’re such an animal…I lost count of how many times you made me cum!” the MILF exclaims, running her hands all over the stud’s sweaty body and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “Yo, my balls are fucking empty!” the stud groans, his tacit admission that he’s done for the night. “Yeah and my pussy is full!” the MILF giggles. “We better get some sleep, baby…” she now advises him; she turns off the small lamp on her nightstand and soon all is quiet in the darkened bedroom…

Lost in dreamland, our redheaded sergeant finds himself all alone on a wide, open plain, bare ass naked. He proudly looks over his lean, muscular body, admiring his deep, broad chest; he flexes his well developed biceps and wiggles his toes, feeling the sandy soil beneath his bare feet. He watches his penis engorge, stiffening into a full fledged erection; he keeps his hands at his sides, letting out a little grunt of pleasure as he lets his veiny pecker throb. He’s 17, a handsome, freckle faced stud at the peak of his adolescent virility and he delights in the feeling of being young and alive; he gazes proudly at the rigid, pulsing tool that’s brought so much pleasure to so many women. At first he barely notices the small dark shape on the distant horizon but slowly, gradually, it becomes bigger, more distinct, as it inexorably approaches him. The advancing figure is all too familiar; it’s a Zadon. He doesn’t even think about running; he’s a Xarian boy and even without weapons or armor, he’s determined to confront the hated cyborg. The Zadon looms larger and nearer; the sergeant’s green eyes open wide and his heart beats faster as he realizes that this is no ordinary, 8 foot tall cyborg. This Zadon stands at least 20 feet tall, dwarfing the 6’1 teen into insignificance. Still determined not to run, he digs his toes into the ground, rooting himself into place; the extreme danger that he’s in only seems to fuel his sexual arousal. The long blue veins in his erect penis thump harder, more insistently now, up and down the entire length of his petrified 9 inch shaft; his balls are drawn up tight beneath the upright pole, releasing a steady flow of clear, oily precum that seeps from the single eye of his rigid love worm. The Zadon is now looming directly over him, gazing down at him with its beady, pitiless red eyes. The redhead looks up at the cyborg; this is the moment that all Xarian boys know they must face, sooner or later. The teen can now hear his heart pounding in his chest; a big, strong stud, he now feels completely helpless as he waits to take what he has coming to him. How will the Zadon kill him? The giant cyborg can easily smash or stomp his naked body into oblivion or maybe it will just pick him up like a toy and fling him through the air. He’s still waiting, with his erect cock, for the Zadon to make its move when he hears something from a distance…a strange sound, almost like a squawk. The blaring sound gets louder and louder, its discordant notes jarring the naked teen’s entire body…

0500 The first feeble rays of light are starting to streak the sky over Xenon. As the landscape is illuminated, the shadowy shapes gradually resolve themselves and materialize into a nightmare too horrible to contemplate. Tara’s green eyes open wide in horror as she finally realizes what she’s been looking at in the early morning darkness…Zadons! Twelve of them, an entire quad, standing stationary within meters of the village. Without hesitation, the cadet slams her hand down on the general alarm button, producing ear splitting, klaxon like blasts that echo from one end of the village to the other. Getting on CommLink to the Alpha Quadrant Operations Center, she glances out the window again and watches as the Zadons slowly start advancing towards the village…

The tall, redheaded sergeant’s eyes force themselves open. Laying face down, ass up in the MILF’s bed, his drool soaking the pillow, he raises his head, groans and then lets his head drop again. He knows what the loud, blaring alarm means and he knows that he has to respond to it. “What…what is that…?” the MILF asks in a sleepy voice from her side of the bed. “General alarm…gotta mobilize…” the naked stud mumbles in response, finally forcing himself up into a sitting position; his pecker is already fully awake, standing tall in a powerful morning erection. Fuck! What a day to have a drill…and no advance notice! he fumes, disgusted and exhausted in equal measure. Stumbling out of bed, he starts gathering up his clothes which are scattered all over the floor. “C’mon, dude…” he murmurs imploringly to his penis, but it remains defiantly erect; he pulls on his briefs and the swollen head of his man tool peeks out over the top of the waistband. He then gets into his jeans and t-shirt and slips his feet into his sneakers, the continuously blaring alarm just adding to his misery. By now, the MILF has also gotten out of bed and put on a long t-shirt and pair of panties. “Do you have time for breakfast…?” she asks in a gentle voice. “Nah…no time…we don’t eat breakfast, anyway…” the stud replies, yawning and running his hand through his tousled red hair. “Oh, yeah, that’s a space trooper thing…my son didn’t eat breakfast, either, after he joined up…” the MILF replies; it was just last year when she sent her 14 year old son off to join the space troopers and perish in battle not long afterwards. “At least have a glass of juice…” she now encourages him, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. The stud accepts the offer; they make their way to the kitchen, where the MILF pours him a glass of juice and he quickly downs it. “You better come back to me, baby!” the MILF orders him, giving the handsome teen a smoldering look; after their night of unbridled lust, there’s no doubt that the 38 year old blonde is completely smitten with the redheaded stud. “No worries…I’ll come back…it’s just a drill…” the teen assures her. The petite MILF stands on her tiptoes to give the stud a goodbye kiss, the alarm still blaring in their ears…

At the Ops Center in Xaron, the first reaction to the CommLink call from Xenon is skepticism. Is this a drill? the lieutenant on duty wonders. Or is the young cadet on CommLink playing some sort of prank? The Zadons haven’t attacked a populated village in over 60 years and there’s no reason to think they would start doing it again now. The lieutenant, a 22 year old big boobed blonde, calls her captain; the captain, equally surprised, calls her colonel. Within minutes, the captain is back on CommLink with the lieutenant; this is no drill; scramble reinforcements to the village immediately! In response, the lieutenant checks the status screen on her command monitor. She quickly discovers that she has over 2,000 space troopers that she can throw into battle, but only four usable transports; most of the transports in the fleet are either undergoing maintenance or are out on other missions. Knowing that she can send 8 platoons to the village, the lieutenant buzzes the teenage sergeants in command of AP (Active Platoons) 1 through 8 on their helmet mics, ordering them to board the transports and proceed to Xenon; she also tells them to “take as many extra guys as you can!” She then instructs the cadet at the main computer to remotely feed the village’s coordinates into the transports’ onboard navigation computers…

Rousted out of bed by the blaring klaxon, hundreds of groggy, yawning teenage boys stumble through the streets of Xenon, making their way to the space trooper barracks for mobilization. Clad in a grab bag of t-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, shorts, sneakers and flipflops, their eyes bleary, their hair tousled and matted and most of them nursing their morning wood, they exchange ribald jokes and curse the loudly screeching alarm, but none of them are really worried. Quite a few of them, like our redheaded sergeant, are leaving the beds that they shared with their teen girlfriends or MILF partners, parting from their female companions with reassuring words that it’s probably all just a drill. Reaching the barracks, they learn that Zadons have been sighted approaching the village. In the locker rooms, they hastily strip naked and get into their armor, locking on their helmets in combat mode but they remain surprisingly relaxed; while the appearance of the Zadons is startling, nobody imagines that this could be a full scale attack by the cyborgs. “Don’t worry, dudes…they’re just doing a recon mission…the ’dons aren’t gonna attack a village with chicks in it!” a handsome blond corporal reassures the boys in his squad. In full battle gear, the black armor clad warriors get into formation and file out of the barracks; they start marching toward their deployment positions at the outer edge of the village, their ears ringing with the repeated blaring announcements ordering the village’s female population to remain indoors until the emergency is over…

At the Xaron Ops Center, the space troopers in the eight designated Active Platoons lock their helmets on and quickly file aboard the transports in orderly ranks. Once the transports are loaded to full capacity, the platoon sergeants, following the lieutenant’s instructions, call for additional volunteers from the other Active Platoons. There’s no shortage of boys who answer the call; enraged by the Zadons’ raid on a village full of women and girls, dozens of volunteers, mostly 14 year olds eager for their first taste of combat, swarm forward and squeeze themselves onto the transports. Designed for a total capacity of 840 men, the four X-3000 transports are now packed with more than 900 space troopers. The armored teens are wedged so tightly together, they can’t even move and can barely breathe; unable to take on any more bodies, the dangerously overloaded transports finally take off, their engines laboring...

Our redheaded stud sergeant marches at the head of his platoon, his rocket launcher slung over his shoulder, an ammo pouch filled with rockets bouncing rhythmically against his hip with every step that he takes. Encased in his close fitting armor and helmet, running on only two and a half hours sleep, he’s exhausted; he’s also haunted by that weird, vivid dream about the giant Zadon, but he knows that he can show no signs of weakness to his men. He has a good mix of blonds and redheads under his command, but his platoon is incredibly young; aside from his 6 corporals and about a dozen 15s, his unit is overwhelmingly made up of 14s, raw, fresh faced boys just barely out of training. Fortunately, their morale is high; he knows that he can count on his men to stand up to the Zadons. Like everyone else, he doesn’t expect actual combat; this is just a Zadon recon mission and the cyborgs will withdraw in the face of a determined show of force by the garrison. It’ll be a good experience for his young platoon and when it’s all over, he can go back to his blonde MILF. At 17, it’s high time that he settles down with a steady chick, one that he can make a baby with and he thinks that he’s finally found her…

The four transports, packed with the hastily mobilized reinforcements, glide to a landing in a desolate clearing northwest of Xenon. The space troopers hear the neuron transmitters beep in their ears, jolting them all into full erections; the exit bays of the transports then open and squads of armored teenagers start spilling out of the overheated, overcrowded craft. It’s a relief to be out in the open again, free from the suffocating transports; eager for combat, the teens are rewarded with the sight of two Zadons standing there, waiting for them. “Assault Wave formation…assault wave formation…” Kaylee orders them and they obediently comply, forming dense, compact formations as they advance towards the Zadons with a slow, deliberate tread. One of the cyborgs carefully trains its weapon on a tall 17 year old sergeant carrying a rocket launcher at the extreme right of the advancing line while the other one aims at the 16 year old corporal anchoring the extreme left, but they hold their fire. In between the two noncoms are a long line of troopers, 14 and 15 year olds, packed together, shoulder to shoulder and the first line is backed up by a second and then a third. The cyborgs let the boys continue their advance, the teens sweating into their armor under the already blazing morning sun, the reflected sunlight glinting off the mirrored face plates of their helmets. The Zadons’ red eyes gleam hungrily as the transports belch out more armor clad figures, more eager teens who make the surging formation even denser with human bodies; with adolescent exuberance, the boys shout encouragement to each other as they advance, but still the cyborgs hold their fire…

Reaching the outskirts of the village, sweaty from their march in full armor, the boys of the Xenon garrison deploy into battle formation, standing shoulder to shoulder, laser rifles at the ready, as they watch the Zadons approach with their steady, reverberating tread. Every military aged male in the village has been mobilized to meet the emergency; all of the teens have grown up together in the tight little community and their ranks include dozens of sets of brothers. With a mixture of excitement and dread, they watch the cyborgs get closer and closer, but even now, none of them really expects an actual battle to ensue. Using his helmet mic, one of the sergeants informs the Ops Center that the Zadons are in sight and that the space troopers are deployed for action. In response, the female officer informs him that reinforcements are on the way; moments later, the teenage warriors hear the discrete beep in their ears as their neuron transmitters jolt all of them into rock hard erections. Adrenaline and testosterone now coursing through their systems and overriding their instincts for self-preservation, the teens can feel a mounting eagerness for battle, a growing hope that this isn’t a drill after all…

At the transport landing site the space troopers continue their advance towards the Zadons; they’re now so close that the cyborgs can see the outlines of the teens’ erect male tools in their tightly fitting armored pants. Starting with the two non-coms at either end of the front rank, the Zadons start a rapid fire salvo of their shock wave weapons, each of them working their way down the line of armor clad bodies until they meet in the middle, delivering a killing thump to the chest of each boy, scything down the entire first line of advancing teens. Without hesitation the second rank bravely steps forward. The Zadons drop the second rank and then the third and still the teens keep coming. Boys topple in heaps, one rank stepping forward to take the place of the preceding one and then going down in turn. The bodies quickly pile up, the agonized death groans of the fallen teens drowned out by the concussive sound of the shock weapons. “Maintain assault wave formation…maintain assault wave formation…” Kaylee drones in the boys’ ears and they bravely comply until finally, the heap of writhing bodies is piled so high that they can’t step over them anymore. Showing unbelievable courage and discipline, the teens deploy into a firing line, blasting away with their laser rifles, their dead and dying fellow troopers forming a rampart in front of them. The Zadons now slow their rate of fire, taking careful, deliberate aim at each target in turn; switching to head shots, the cyborgs savor every kill, completely dominating their adolescent opponents in the unequal firefight and still the teens don’t flinch. “Hold your position…maintain formation…hold your position…” Kaylee drones soothingly, reminding them of their duty; her voice is the last sound that most of them will ever hear. The clamor of combat ends abruptly; a slightly built 14 year old trooper takes a shot to the head and crumples, adding his body to the heap of armored corpses and suddenly the Zadons realize that they don’t have any more targets to shoot at. All is now quiet, except for a few moans of agony coming from the tangle of armored bodies piled up in front of the transports. The Zadons train their scanners on the eerily silent transports; there’s no sign of life on any of the empty craft. The death groans from the piled up bodies gradually fall silent and the flickering life readings on the Zadons’ sensors vanish…

At the edge of the village, another squad of teenage troopers goes down with a clatter, tumbled into a heap of sprawling bodies by the rapid fire of the advancing Zadons. The boys of the Xenon garrison are being slaughtered; the idea that this is merely a Zadon reconnaissance mission quickly vanishes and the space troopers slowly start falling back into the village. Their goal now is to delay the Zadons as long as possible until the expected reinforcements arrive; they have no way of knowing that the relief force is being slaughtered to the last man at that very moment…

Taking up position in the shadow of one of the buildings, our tall, redheaded sergeant crouches down and manages to lock onto the back plate of one of the cyborgs with his rocket launcher; he squeezes the trigger and then curses loudly as the rocket makes a loud popping sound and fails to launch, obviously a round that’s been kept in storage for far too long. He ejects the defective, smoking missile and then, still in a haze of fatigue, he absentmindedly stands up and reaches into his ammo pouch for a fresh rocket. Just then, another advancing Zadon turns the corner, spots the tall 17 year old and locks onto him; aiming high, the cyborg delivers a pulsating shock wave blast to the sergeant’s head. His brains instantaneously liquefied, the redheaded stud has already spiraled off into another dimension even before his armored husk hits the ground; his blonde MILF will now only have the memories of their marathon sex session last night….

Their casualties mounting steadily, the depleted ranks of space troopers continue to fall back slowly through the streets of the village, towards the main square, firing their laser rifles all the way. Small teams of troopers detach themselves from the main body, ducking into buildings along the village’s main street, turning them into miniature strong points. From the windows they snipe away at the advancing Zadons, trying to harass and divert them from their inexorable advance into the heart of the village. They make no attempt to hide, some of them even shouting adolescent taunts at the cyborgs to get their attention; their goal now is to bring down the wrath of the Zadons on themselves, thus steering the cyborgs clear of Xenon’s female population…

As the battle swirls through the streets of Xenon, the pretty blonde 16 year old peeks out her window. Out on the street, she sees one of the armored troopers blazing away with his laser rifle at the advancing Zadons and she lets out a gasp. That morning, as her 15 year old brother left the house to report to the barracks, she gave him a purple plastic wristband for good luck; the trooper that she can now see from her window has a slim purple band encircling his left wrist. Glancing down the street, she can see a steadily advancing Zadon, impervious to the laser fire being directed at him. She bursts out of the house and sprints barefoot out into the street, somehow not being hit by the laser and shock wave fire being exchanged by the opposing sides. She throws herself in front of the armored trooper, her arms stretched out. “No! Don’t kill him!” she shouts at the Zadon, who surprisingly stops in its tracks. “Get out of the way, Erika…go home!” her brother shouts through the mirrored face plate of his helmet. Utilizing its scanners, the Zadon confirms that the target directly in front of it is a human female, blocking the line of fire. The cyborg scrolls down in its weapons menu to the Neuron Disrupter, locks on the female and fires a burst. Erika lets out a shriek, drops to the ground and lies still. “You fucking bastard!” her brother screams, his voice choking with rage as he unleashes a fusillade of laser fire at the cyborg. The Zadon methodically scans the remaining target and confirms it as a human male, toggles back to its shock wave cannon, locks on to the target’s chest and fires a burst. The trooper is knocked off his feet and sent sprawling onto his back, his laser rifle flying out of his hands. The Zadon impassively moves on past the two prone forms, the still, silent female and the armor clad male emitting broken gasps and wheezes. As the Zadon lumbers further down the street, looking for more males to kill, a trio of girls scurry out into the street and pick up their friend. They glance over quickly at the armor clad body and hear a slow, agonized death rattle; they carry Erika back into the house where she will be revived within a few minutes…

The Zadons begin going building to building, eliminating the strong points one by one; their mission is to kill every human male in the village. From one house, a 16 year old corporal and two 15 year old troopers are making their final stand, blazing away through the windows with their laser rifles when a Zadon smashes down the door; before they know it, the killer cyborg is on top of them and swinging its heavy, but incredibly agile limbs. There’s a sickening crack as the Zadon’s arm connects with the blond corporal’s helmet; remarkably the helmet remains undented by the impact, but the boy’s head absorbs all the kinetic energy of the sledgehammer blow. The teen’s skull disintegrates, splattering the inside of his helmet with a deluge of blood, pulverized clumps of brain and shards of fragmented cranium. Flung halfway across the room, the corporal’s body drops limply, like a rag doll, to the floor. The Zadon swings again, catching one of the 15s in the torso on the right side; the blond lets out an agonized cry as his rib cage is shattered, driving the ribs like sharply pointed daggers into his lungs. Thrown across the room, his body lands on the floor next to that of the corporal. The third trooper, a tall, long legged 15 year old redhead, frantically scrambles to get in position behind the cyborg in the slim hope of delivering a disabling shot to its back with his laser rifle, but the agile Zadon reaches out with both arms and grabs the teen around the waist. Lifting him off the floor, the cyborg squeezes with a crushing grip, pulverizing the boy’s pelvis with a loud cracking sound. Kicking his legs out convulsively, the teen lets out a howl of agony and then goes limp; the Zadon opens its arms and lets the armored body drop to the floor with a clatter. The cyborg pauses for a moment to survey its handiwork. One boy, the corporal, lies completely still, sprawled out on his back; the blond 15 lies face down, gasping in agony as the blood from his punctured lungs comes surging out through his mouth and nose, splattering the inside face plate of his helmet with every broken breath that he takes. The third, the redheaded 15, lies curled up on his side, writhing and twisting in agony, bravely trying not to cry out again as he starts to lapse into unconsciousness. The Zadon hesitates for a moment, calculating whether or not to deliver finishing blows to the two dying troopers; their life indicators on the Zadon’s sensors are dropping so rapidly that the cyborg decides not to waste further time or effort on them. Lumbering out of the building to rejoin the battle, the Zadon leaves the two boys to gasp out their last breaths in unspeakable agony…

The sound of laser rifle fire echoes through the cavernous interior of the village’s natatorium, answered by the thump of the Zadon’s shock wave cannon. A community hot spot during better times, the deck around the pool, usually populated by busty women in skimpy thong bikinis and muscular teen boys in banana hammocks, is now strewn with dozens of armored corpses. A sizable force of 100 boys had chosen to make their final stand here and now all but three of them are dead. “Holy shit! He could’ve finished us off by now!” the blond 15 calls out, taking a shot at the Zadon lurking around the entrance to the pool. “He’s toying with us, dude…this is just a game to him…” the redheaded 15 replies. “Too bad we don’t have a rocket launcher!” the third boy, a blond 14, exclaims. “Yeah, dude, and too bad we don’t have 3 chicks here, down on their knees, blowin’ us…” the redhead replies in a cynical tone. “The kid’s right…we need a rocket launcher…one of those dudes was a corporal…maybe he had one…” the blond 15 replies, raising his head to see if he can spot the corporal’s corpse amidst the heaps of bodies. “Nah, dude…I was right next to him when he got it…he didn’t have a launcher…” the redhead replies. “We can charge him!” the 14 bravely suggests, but the two older boys ignore him; the redhead is staring out at the pool through his mirrored face plate and the blond 15 follows his expressionless gaze. “Dude, how deep do you think that pool is…?” the redhead asks his fellow 15 year old. “I dunno…must be at least 50, 60 feet…” is the reply. “It’s deep…that motherless bastard will never get us down there…” the redhead agrees. “Yo, I don’t think our breathing gear works underwater…” the 14 observes in a hesitant voice. “I dunno…maybe it does, maybe it don’t…only one way to find out…” the redhead replies in a casual tone. “Why does it matter…? You’re not scared, are you…?” the blond 15 now asks the younger boy in a taunting voice. “Hell no! I’m not scared!” the 14 blurts out, giving the only answer that a red blooded Xarian boy could possibly give. “We’re wasting time…c’mon!” the redhead now exclaims. Dropping their laser rifles, the three teens dash to the pool, moving as quickly as they can in their stiff jointed armor and heavy boots; they move just fast enough to foil the Zadon’s attempts to lock in on them as they run. Lining up at the deep end, temporarily out of sight of the cyborg, the trio clasp their thickly gloved hands together, forming a three man chain. “You dudes ready…? We go in on the count of three…” the redhead asks. “Fuck yeah! I’m ready!” the blond 15 exclaims; “Ready!” the 14 agrees in a ringing voice. Their time is rapidly running out; they can feel the heavy, reverberating tread of the Zadon as it starts to lumber forward in search of them. “One…” the redhead starts the countdown in a steady voice; the three boys look straight ahead, averting their gaze from the watery depths just beneath their feet. “Two…” Standing between the two older boys, the 14 can hear his heart pounding in his chest. His mind is racing; he’s only had one fleeting sexual encounter, losing his virginity to a MILF just two weeks ago and now he realizes that he’ll never get laid again. He tightens his grip on the hands of his two older friends and they respond in kind. “Three!” the redhead shouts; the teens step off the deck and hit the water with a splash, throwing a cascading fountain of water high up into the air. Massive air bubbles start breaking the surface and the waters of the pool are frantically roiled for several long minutes as far below, the water does its work, forcing the oxygen out of three young pairs of lungs and filling them with its surging, killing wetness. A few final bubbles rise to the surface and then the waters are still and serene once again…

Making loud gurgling sounds, the 14 year old space trooper kicks his legs out and squirms fruitlessly, trying to wriggle himself free from the Zadon’s grasp as it slowly, inexorably tightens around his throat; the boy’s thickly gloved hands push against the cyborg’s pitiless metal frame in a futile gesture of resistance to the inevitable. Behind the opaque face plate of his helmet, the teen’s face is turning a darker and darker shade of red. A cute, slightly built blond, only 5’3, barely over 100 pounds, he keeps his gaze fixed on the merciless cyborg who’s choking the life out of him. The image of the Zadon is starting to blur and he can feel his bright blue eyes starting to bulge in their sockets; he can’t believe that the loud choking noises filling his ears are coming from his own body. Sprawled out on the ground at the Zadon’s feet are two other armor clad bodies, both blond 15s; they were lucky; the cyborg snapped their necks quickly. He could easily do the same with the 14, but he’s taking his time with the unlucky youngster, slowly tightening his grip, savoring the sheer brutality of the kill. The boy continues to squirm and struggle even though he knows how useless it is; he can feel the pressure building behind his eyeballs and it almost feels like his head is going to explode, but even as the life is being slowly crushed out of him, he’s conscious that his erect 5 inch pecker is throbbing insistently. As his brain starts to shut down, the memory of losing his virginity only last week flashes vividly…how he lasted less than 5 minutes before blowing his load into his big titted 16 year old blonde neighbor. A loud, rattling sound fills his ears; his face is turning purple now and he can feel his tongue forcing itself out of his mouth. Just as the light flashes out, his balls convulse forcefully, splattering the inside of his armor with a thick, slimy load of DNA; he experiences his final orgasm as the Zadon throttles the last breath out of his body…

The village is now silent. Twisted, heaped up armored bodies lie everywhere, their contorted, agonized faces mercifully hidden from view behind their opaque helmet visors. With no space troopers left to kill, utility bots now swarm the village under the vigilant eyes of their Zadon masters. Some of them proceed to the transports’ landing site and start disentangling the huge heaps of corpses there, grappling hold of the armored bodies one by one and heaving them, like loads of trash, onto waiting dozers. Other bots start collecting the human refuse at the village natatorium; the corpses of the three boys who jumped into the pool are easily winched to the surface and tossed onto one of the dozers. More bots scour the village, dragging the scattered bodies littering the streets to centralized collection locations; they also thoroughly search the buildings for human remains which are tossed or rolled out onto the street. The armored corpses are left to lie on the sidewalk until the dozers come by to pick them up, like garbage collection day…

The tall, long legged redhead with the shattered pelvis is unceremoniously dumped onto the street; his two friends, tossed out alongside him, are already dead, but he’s still clinging to life, lying sprawled out on his back and groaning as he drifts in and out of consciousness. One of the utility bots hovers over him for a brief moment, its sensor blinking; the boy will die, but he’s taking just a little bit too long to do so. The bot points one of its long, tentacle-like arms at the prone figure and with a whooshing sound, it fires a high velocity, wire guided lancet that penetrates the joint where the trooper’s helmet joins his upper body armor. A thin shafted, sharp pointed rod, the lancet punches through the armor’s weak spot at a steep, downward angle and thrusts its way through the boy’s throat; two razor sharp blades spring out from the head of the lancet like the wings of a malignant butterfly, brutally severing the 15 year old’s trachea and spine and putting an abrupt, savage end to his suffering. The lancet’s momentum spent, the blades automatically retract, allowing the bot to pull the lethal tool back out, leaving a discreet ½ inch hole in the slain trooper’s armor. All together, 32 of the village’s fatally injured teenage warriors need to be finished off using the brutally efficient lancets…

The women and girls of Xenon cautiously emerge from their hiding places and step out into the streets to survey the devastation. They beg the Zadons to at least allow them to give the dead boys a decent burial, but their entreaties are ignored; the cyborgs don’t even bother to look at them. The women’s pleas puzzle the Zadons. The cyborgs created the mess in the village and now they’re cleaning it up; they’re doing the work of hauling away and disposing of the refuse strewn all over the place, so why are these silly human females complaining? Do they want to recover the armor so that it can be recycled and reused in the human war effort? That would be understandable, but it quickly becomes clear that the females’ only concern is for the lifeless husks contained in the suits of armor. These are the brutalized remains of their sons, brothers and boyfriends, as well as hundreds of other boys who bravely tried to come to their rescue; some of the MILFs have lost 2 or even 3 of their sons. The women are motivated by human emotions and the Zadons have no time or patience for such nonsense. Each contorted, sprawled out armored form is a Zadon battle trophy and must be added to the mountains of rotting meat that the cyborgs are building ever higher in their burial pits. All 723 of the village’s male inhabitants of military age (14-17) were slain in battle, along with the 967 reinforcements that were scrambled to assist them; 1,690 teenagers slaughtered in 45 minutes of mind boggling carnage, averaging out to 37 boys killed every minute. Aside from Erika’s temporary bout of unconsciousness, no girls or women have been harmed. Once they’ve double checked and triple checked to make sure that all the bodies have been accounted for, the Zadon convoy lumbers away, the dozers piled high with armored corpses. At the dump site, load after load of teenage corpses are tumbled into the burial pit to begin the long, slow process of decay; the pile of broken bodies grows higher and higher until finally the last dozer dumps the last load of human detritus on top with a clatter. Sprawled out at the apex of this pyramid of faceless, anonymous corpses is one body identical to all the others, except for the little purple plastic band on the left wrist…

DAILY CASUALTY REPORT

1,690 space troopers killed in battle in Xenon, Alpha Quadrant. 332 killed in skirmishing elsewhere on Xares-27. Total death toll: 2,022.

(to be continued...)