The Fate of Terra Ch. 12

Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of non-consensual, dubiously consensual or reluctant sexual situations.

Stacey finished her morning report with her usual brisk efficiency, "And finally, you're due to attend a meeting with the council at noon today and then we'll test the new world wide broadcast network by giving an address while the shield portion of the Aegis defense system is active. The council has invited you to say a few words when they say their piece."

Michael gave a slight nod, seated across from her next to the bath. The place had quite a few new features as it had become the meeting place for him and his girls first thing in the morning and then again for a nightly recap of events. Aki was standing behind his seat, fixing his hair, having taken over the task of making him look presentable. Her expert fingers massaged his scalp and he groaned at the blissful feeling she induced.

He was impressed with how far she'd come in the past few months. Not only had Aki designed all the uniforms for the crew, she had started her own clothing line that was taking off down on Earth. She was a godsend when it came to helping Michael out in the looks department. He often joked he needed all the help he could get. It was also important for him to remember that he represented close to a quarter million people on the ship and around the world. She took care of problems he didn't even know he had.

Currently taking care of his other needs was her sister. Head buried in his lap, Rin knelt beside him and caressed his cock with her tongue, giving him a sensuous tease designed to build until the end of Stacey's report. She swallowed his prick whole, working her throat muscles and pushing him over the edge. She sucked hard, twirling her tongue and drawing out his release.

Michael gave a final gasp and leaned back in his chair contented. He reached out and ran his fingers through the girl's hair, letting her know he was pleased with the job she'd done. He thought about how Rin was progressing on the ship and had to admit she impressed him every bit as much as her twin.

Where Aki was happy to let her creative inspirations lead her down a more artful, innocent path, Rin was a down-to-Earth thinker. Michael knew she was just as smart as him and probably twice as determined. Many of the projects and innovations his science & engineering divisions were working on had come from her. She usually spent a good portion of her day down in the AI labs with Tanya, Isaac, and Serkiss coming up with new and better inventions, many of which were going to be used in the upcoming battle.

Michael stood and kissed each of the three girls present and headed out the hatch, draping his uniform jacket over one shoulder. After waking up the other girls, they all headed down to the mess for breakfast. He'd gotten a feel for who regularly showed up and noticed that Marcus was missing for the third straight morning. 'Must be getting serious about that barista up on the oh-deck,' he thought to himself amusedly.

Oh-deck, or Deck Zero, on the Intrepid was the center level that had the beach area, Reception Hall, and most of the shops and restaurants. Levels above the deck were numbered positive, with most of the sublevels making up the hangars, brig, mess, training course for the troopers, engineering department, and farming/cloning areas.

After reviewing a new type of explosive round for the rail guns, Michael and Kat boarded a shuttle and went down to New York, the current home of the Council of Terra, actually housed in the old UN building. They were then escorted amidst nervous glances thrown towards their own armored security to a meeting room occupied by the thirteen seats that made up the Council.

The members barely gave Kat a second glance, having become used to his ever-present shadow. There was a pulsating feeling of dread that hung almost oppressive in the air. Michael saw these men and women looking at him with mixed expressions. Some contained hope, some distrust... All looked to him to lead the effort. Each had their own agendas, but they knew that the coming battle would decide their own existence.

They still maintained that he should open up all of his capabilities to them and yet, there were those that trusted him more than they did other members of the Council. Michael was the teeth behind the Council's threats, but they knew no one was exempt from his decisions... not even them. In a way, having someone with no political interests or leanings carry the big stick was a boon to Earth's development. Everyone, from self-serving politicians to radical extremists, followed the rules and tried not to make waves. No one knew what might set him off.

Michael knew that once the B'Amuf threat was over there would probably be a huge movement against him, but for now, they needed him. He eased himself into the leather chair at the circular table. Kat ignored the one provided for her and made herself comfortable in his lap. The Council members studied the two, all thinking similar thoughts: 'What are they? Some say they can't be killed. What did they do to themselves? Are they still human? Are we making a terrible mistake by trusting them? And what about that AI he controls...'

Michael draped his right arm around Kat and rapped the table's surface with the knuckles on his left. "So," he began with his usual directness, "the probes we sent out show the B'Amuf fleet is a little more than a week out. It's unlikely, but they might speed up for whatever reason so, accounting for a buffer, we should have all our main elements in place by Thursday."

The Councilman from China grimaced at Michael's idea of 'we,' knowing he alone controlled all the probes and thus, all the information outside their solar system, but asked, "How are we going to split our forces?"

Shrugging, Michael said, "Let's skip the part where I tell you I won't follow your Admiral and you tell me the same. I'm sure your best military strategists have come up with a million and one simulations and ways to use your ships, but they aren't familiar with the capabilities of mine. All of our intelligence says they won't split their forces. Thus, I'd say a two-pronged attack, oriented with Earth lying between us far behind, should be ideal."

The French Councilman piped up, "What if they try to run between the two arms and head straight for Earth. We already know that complete annihilation is their goal."

The Russian Councilmember gave a snort. "Then, unless our timing is complete failure," he stated in a heavy accent, "they get shredded, only to run into the defense force. Da, 'tis good plan. How far out do we engage?"

"Just outside the orbital plane of Mars," Michael answered.

"That close?" President Whitmore asked curiously, not condemning the idea, just wishing to know why.

Michael explained, "I have a few surprises waiting for them around the asteroid belt. And my people have crunched the numbers and the further out we close, the more likely they are to spread out and the easier it'll be for them to widen their lines with their superior numbers."

"Just how superior are they?" the British Councilman questioned. "I've seen the footage but I don't believe I know the exact count."

"We're looking at close to five thousand capital ships, twenty thousand destroyers, with somewhere between seventy-five thousand and a hundred thousand shuttle-attack craft hybrids," Michael said without looking up from the table.

The quiet was deafening. The Councilwoman from India sputtered, "Th-that much? But that's more than three times our number of capital ships and destroyers, and more than five to seven times the number of fighters."

Michael gave a shrug. "Our ships are better, our people are smarter, and we have the home field advantage."

"That's easy to say for you," the French Councilman snapped, "some of us have to actually worry about the number of causalities we lose. Our ships have people in them!" He looked around feverishly, "Are you sure you can't just-"

"No!" the Chinese, German, and Russian members all shouted at once. The Russian Councilman continued, "We must know our capabilities." Pointing across the table to Michael, he said, "If he leaves afterwards to travel to their home worlds, we must know we can defend ourselves. Not only this, but the B'Amuf aren't only aggressive ones in galaxy. What happens if race shows up that A.I. can't penetrate?" He slammed his fist down on the table. "We have to know!"

Councilman Whitmore spoke in the silence that followed, "So... One week. One week until we see if we're really better than those space slugs. May God help us." He rapped the table and sighed before turning to Michael and saying, "I'll get with Admiral Johnson and see you get the formation details. Will you be joining us for the address this afternoon?"

Michael turned to Kat and she nodded her head. She leaned in to him and murmured, "You're going to take up the mantle of command and represent humanity among the stars. I think it's time you let people know what they're fighting for." Michael stared into her eyes and fell in love with her all over again. She was the one who had always believed he was destined for greatness, even when he'd been some nobody in high school. She'd stood by his side through it all, never doubting, always supportive. He gave a quick nod to Councilman Whitmore and gathered Kat in his arms, striding out of the room with her.

They didn't make it far, Kat huddled against his chest, armored troopers hurrying after them. When they reached the shuttle, Michael ordered everyone out and set her down on a seat. Kneeling in front of her, he leaned in and kissed her, the scorching heat of her soft, succulent lips overwhelming his senses. He gave a soft chuckle, resting his head on her shoulder and panting slightly, "You drive me crazy..."

Kat wrapped her arms around his neck. "Then I must be doing something right," she laughed. She turned serious, "Do you know what you're going to say?"

Michael stared out the window and sighed. He opened the hatch and waved everybody in. He told the pilot where he wanted to go and the shuttle began to lift off on its own accord. The pilot scrambled to her chair yelling, "Shit! I hate it when she does that..." Pandora's musical laughter floated through the speakers.

The armored troopers sat in the back of the shuttle in sideways-facing seats while Michael and Kat sat in the forward-facing ones behind the cockpit. Kat turned and mounted his lap, thrusting her tits into his face. She ground her hips down, rubbing her tightly covered mound against his crotch. She leaned back and reached down behind her to massage his hardening prick.

Kat giggled when she felt Michael's hands on her ass push her forwards again, burying his face between two breathtaking orbs of soft, bouncy flesh. He sighed in pleasure when she opened her shirt for him and he took one of her nipples in his mouth, rolling and tweaking the supple morsel.

She leaned down and bit his ear and dug her fingers into his shoulders, letting him know she wanted him to be rougher. Michael bit down on her nipple and squeezed the cheeks of her ass harshly in response. Kat moaned and reached down to unzip the seam on her leather pants, going crotchless in a matter of seconds. She still believed ease of access was key to always being ready for him. He managed to shuck his leggings down a little lower, exposing Kat's prize.

Seeing she was already wet, he gripped her hips firmly and, after she had aligned his rock-hard member to her opening, slammed her down. They both let out a gasp as she sunk to the hilt. Michael's prick was fully engulfed and squeezed all along its length. Kat worked her enhanced muscles expertly, controlling his orgasm and knowing just how to draw it out for the ultimate pleasure. Her pussy never got loose so Michael was able to enjoy the full, tight effect, while she never got acclimated to the feeling, each time feeling a new pleasure when he entered her.

As good as he felt, Michael knew she wanted it fast and hard. He drew on his strength to lift her deadweight with his arms and brought her down again, repeating the process like a piston as quickly and as forcefully as he could. She cried out, not able to move with him in any sort of rhythm. The friction soon brought her to orgasm, but still he continued, using her like a toy and trying to give her everything he had. He celebrated every time he woke up next to this wild and kinky goddess that had captured his heart.

Feeling his cum rise he left marks on her sides as he brought her crashing down once, twice, and then held her down on the third, exploding into her with a massive amount of cream. She collapsed against him, burying her face into the crook of his neck, trying to regain her breath. As they tried to compose themselves, Kat reaching down to where they were joined and trying to keep from spilling cum on Michael's uniform, the pilot and copilot stepped out of the cockpit.

"Oh!," the pilot exclaimed, surprised. "I was wondering why Pandora was just circling around overhead and not letting me start the descent." The troopers in the back that had been listening to Kat's moans snickered at that and shook their heads. The copilot/gunner, a young Filipina, was blushing furiously and Kat licked her lips in anticipation for a little desert on the ride out.

Michael, Kat, and the troopers made their way down the ramp and into the loud, hazy chaos that was the Detroit steel mills. The city had fallen hard when all the manufacturing companies had deserted them to find cheaper labor in China and Mexico. Now, there was a sudden need for the city's processing and construction capabilities with the planet desperately trying to mobilize and mechanize.

The proud city was once again experiencing a boom as millions of workers flooded hundreds of factories. For security reasons, the Council had decided that all missiles, reactor technology, gun batteries, and FTL (faster-than-light) drives shouldn't be distributed to the world en masse. It would make it too easy for terrorists to get a hold of them or for some ambitious group to start their own private army (Michael saw the irony).

Thus, these factories were pushing out countless munitions and components a day. Spaceships would wait out over the lake and come into newly erected dry docks to be equipped. There weren't actually smokestacks and smog-filled skies due to the newly developed reactors, but the effect was no less impressive. Massive lasers shaped the metal, lighting up the sky for miles around. If the assembly lines of Henry Ford had been impressive in their day, the efficiency shown in these ones were magnitudes higher.

The air rang with the sound of hundreds of missiles being capped every minute, the hum of reactors signaling new ships coming to life, and the grinding of heavy machinery moving, building, molding. Detroit had been severely limited in the space they could use to expand. Unfazed, the industrious people scaled their factories upwards in buildings that reached for the stars.

Walking between skyscrapers and hangar bays large enough to house thousands of fighters at once, Michael could feel the blood, sweat, and tears these people were putting into their work. Having access to fully automated factories, he thought it was important for him to remind himself of what people were willing to sacrifice for their beliefs, their freedom, their lives. He needed to see firsthand and never forget that the ones in the cockpits weren't the only ones fighting... 'This' was the true heart of Terra. Seeing Earth's might in action gave him chills and made him proud to call himself human.

As the party toured the immense complex, word spread that Michael had arrived. People gathered wherever he went, waving and cheering at him as he passed. He was shocked. In a way, this trip was supposed to be a kind of penance for not doing more for humanity. He'd expected these people to hate him. Here they were, putting in an amount of effort that would have staggered the most vicious overseer and yet his factories in space were still outpacing them by a wide margin that was only growing larger.

He'd expected people to rage at him for not simply sharing his AI capabilities and making their lives easier. He watched as a grizzled old engineer in full grease monkey attire pushed past the armored troopers and made his way to a hydrogen-powered mechanical suit and began hefting ready-made components together with a speed and skill that would have challenged his construction bots. The man looked to be at least seventy years old. Michael realized he probably wasn't ever going to retire. Rather, he would die with a tool in his hand and be happy for it.

He looked out at the plant with a new respect towards the workers. One of the troopers in the security detail cleared his throat and said, "My old man is a worker here. He says that no one from the Council has ever visited here before. He likes his job. He's glad for the work and is proud to be of service, but he says sometimes he wonders if they appreciate what he's doing. This is probably the first time anyone of any importance has visited them."

Kat leaned into Michael and whispered in his ear to be heard above the din, "Look at them. Their backs get straighter when they see you watching." Seeing him grimace at her words and knowing him well enough to read his mind she chastised him, "They don't hate you. They're thankful that you've brought back their livelihood. They're grateful for the reactors and the technology you provided to get this place running. Hell, after this visit, they might even love you."

Seeing that her lover was still being difficult, Kat's hand shot out and gripped his chin, turning him to stare into her gleaming emeralds. "They are as proud a people as you will ever find and they respect you for recognizing their worth. You're an inspiration to them. This is the power you wield now. This is what you will use to shape the galaxy."

Michael shuddered at the words she uttered with boundless conviction and he said in a raspy voice, "It is they who are an inspiration to me. It is they who humble me with their earnest work and devotion. It is they who we should be fighting for, as surely what they represent is more holy and righteous than any mosque or temple that has ever been built. They are the proof that even had I not intervened Earth would have survived. It would have lived on -they would have made sure of it."

Unknown to Michael at the time, a journalist from Detroit had finally made her way down to the steel mills, hearing talk of an important visitor. She managed to capture Michael's words from a distance on her receiver mike. Frankly, this shouldn't have been possible due to the jamming devices they had about their persons, but Pandora had made the decision to help her master.

Later that night, the journalist would clean up the background noise and find the gold mine of all sound bites. His words would be replayed around the world and Detroit would eventually erect a statue in his honor. The Council would formally apologize for not recognizing their deeds and it would then become a tradition for every new member elected to office to make a pilgrimage to the steel mills to give thanks and honor their sacrifice.

Back onboard the shuttle, Kat nonchalantly walked to the cockpit and sat on the sexy copilot's lap as the craft fired up. Her name turned out to be Eliza and she was gorgeous with caramel skin and a glossy sheen of black silky hair. Ignoring her flustered protests, Kat began whispering into Eliza's ear. In under two minutes the poor girl was flushed red and panting heavily.

She offered no resistance when the dark red-haired she-devil began exploring her body with what felt like a dozen hands. Kat spent a considerable amount of time fondling her cute B-cup tits. Giving the girl a heated kiss, she kept pulling back slightly, slowing drawing Eliza out of her chair. When her eyes widened and Eliza realized what she had done, she blushed even deeper and made to sit down again.