Captain Jette Jones, Star Ranger

Issue #20 – Fate of the Stars

By Callidus and connie k

All rights reserved. “Captain Jette Jones, Star Ranger” © 2021 All characters and stories are not to be reproduced in any form without the expressed written permission of the authors.

Captain Jette Jones and her allies clash with Suzerain Supreme Zeta and the powerful and mysterious Goddess of Darkness over the destiny of the galaxy.

Part three

Caput has been defeated, but the battle is not over. With the Star Rangers and Vicars of Yasu speeding toward Te’ Sareez, Riesga and Carpenter carry out secret missions that could turn the tide. Meanwhile, Zeta’s army moves on K’wari and the remaining Caputian rebels, who are unaware that Queen Diamanti has been recaptured. Or that Jette Jones is at the mercy of the Goddess of Darkness …

Cpl. Kabie Fizburn eyed the Black Widdom fighters lining the handrail above them in the subterranean hangar. Their weapons were out but they stood casually waiting for orders. She nudged the woman next to her gently.

“Sarge, something’s up. We might have an opening here.”

Sgt. Sullim kept her eyes forward. “We’ve got to get word to the Vicar’s detachment. About the Queen and the Vipera Berus.”

Fizburn noticed the sky fighters hanging from the high ceiling like bats. There were dozens of the small aircraft docked above them.

“I know what you’re thinking, Corporal,” Sullim whispered. “But it won’t work.”

“Oh yeah? What am I thinking, Sarge?”

“Get to a pilot elevator and snag one of the Buzzers. Fly out of here.”

“Why won’t that work?”

“The blue boys outside have anti-aircraft assault vehicles in their column. They’re figuring on someone trying that.” She nodded toward a nearby room marked ATC. “That’s our ticket right there.”

“Air-traffic coordination?”

“We can take remote command of the Buzzers from there. Fly ‘em all out of here and while the blue boys are blasting them out of the sky, we’ll be using the comm gear to get a message out.”

“And then what?” Fizburn whispered.

“If we’re lucky, maybe we can double back to that ginormous tunnel and leave the way we came. If we’re really lucky, maybe we can grab a weapons case on our way out.”

“Hoof it back to the forest?”

Sullim nodded. “Us and as many others as we can snag. Then we head for the mountains and try to link up with the other group later.”

The sound of marching overhead grabbed their attention. Voices rang out in the cavernous hangar as the Black Widdom looked over their captives.

“What of them?” a spider soldier called.

Araneae, the Black Widdom commander, nodded toward the rebel army standing tensely on the floor below. “Open the hangar bay. The Diamond Warriors are ready outside.”

“To execute them?”

Araneae smirked. “No. To recruit them.”

“Uh, that doesn’t sound very good,” Fizburn whispered.

“We need a distraction. Maybe a …” Sullim trailed off as yellow hazard lights suddenly flashed brightly. The huge hangar bay doors groaned and began to open. A moment later sunlight poured inside. Sullim raised a hand to shield her eyes. “Okay, on the ready. This might the only chance we get!”

“Sarge?” Fizburn’s voice was strange. “What is that?”

Sullim lowered her hand and saw an angular vehicle crawling on treads moving toward the hangar. It was wide at the bottom and slim at the top with a cockpit nearly two stories off the ground.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “What are those pods?”

Beneath the cockpit were two large cylinders that ran the length of the vehicle. Each capped end was covered in an array of round ports. “Dunno. Almost look like launching tubes.”

The rebels closest to the hulking machine backed away as it rolled over the threshold and came to a stop just inside the hangar. The small round ports irised open and there was a strange buzzing sound from within the two large pods.

“I’m not liking this at all.” Sullim backed away, eyes locked on the open ports.

“Yeah.” Fizburn began moving with her. “I think you might be —” Suddenly there was cry up ahead and a wave of bodies in gray uniforms rushing away from the strange vehicle. “What happened? Did you see?”

Both soldiers looked up at a strange, mechanical droning sound that whizzed past them. There was a flash of chrome and purple and then a man cried out in terror.

“What the hells?”

More chrome streaks above and more shouts as the rebel army broke ranks and scattered. Soldiers ran in every direction, surging like storm water all around them. The two women began backing up, moving towards the ATC room. Then they finally saw what had come out of the launch tubes.

Helmets.

Chrome helmets were zipping through the air like angry insects. They were chunky hemispherical shapes with an arrangement of multi-jointed appendages covering the outer surface and a gentle cone shape at the top. Each had a glowing purple light on the front.

A woman Fizburn recognized as a mechanic was running in their direction when she was caught. The helmet buzzed past her and she panicked, then turned to see where it had gone. But it was hovering directly above her.

Suddenly it dropped onto her head. Two of the finger-like digits closed shut beneath her jaw and the helmet locked itself onto her head. The woman tugged with all her might and the chrome limbs began to flex in her grip. But then a larger appendage swung down from the back of the helmet. It looked like a wasp’s tail but with two stingers, one on top of the other. The tail slapped down at the base of the woman’s neck and the twin stingers pierced her skin.

Fizburn saw the confusion in her face as her hands suddenly dropped to her sides. Her eyes went strange like she was concentrating deeply on something. A few moments passed and her face relaxed. A black visor slid down in front of her eyes and the light on the top of the helmet began to blink green. The woman turned and slowly walked away.

Sgt. Sullim let loose a strangled, tortured grunt. It wasn’t like her to show emotion but what they’d just seen was horrifying.

“I don’t think we can help her, Sarge. I think she’s—” The words died as Fizburn turned. Sullim’s head was covered in a chrome helmet.

“HOLY BORK!”

The wasp tail uncoiled as the words left her mouth. Fizburn reached out and grabbed the chrome limb in both hands and pulled hard. But the tail had too much momentum. One of the stingers stabbed into the base of Sullim’s neck, Fizburn yanked hard at the metal casing and tore the second one loose before it could do the same.

Sullim reached back with both hands and tugged at the chrome tail but the small needle was still impaled in her.

“Sarge, can you move?”

“Uh … I think …” Sullim’s eyes were huge and terrified.

“C’mon!” Fizburn pulled her hard and they raced for the ATC door. She stabbed at the control plate and the hatch whooshed open. Fizburn shoved Sullim inside and jammed her thumb into the lock button. The door slammed shut behind them.

Fizburn watched through the small round window. There were people piling on top of each other at the doors leading out of the hangar. Then a few helmets flew into their midst and they scattered. A few moments later, several of them emerged, sleepwalking toward the Diamond Warriors waiting nearby.

“Bork me!” Fizburn hissed.

Sullim’s voice was shaky. “You’ve got to get the Buzzers powered up if we’re going to pull this off.”

“I’m not trained on this gear.” Fizburn winced. The black visor had closed over Sullim’s eyes. The light over her forehead was blinking green.

“I can’t see a thing! You’re gonna be my hands.”

“Roger that.” Fizburn sat at the console and took a deep breath. “Ready, Sarge.”

Sullim talked her through the remote command access and the power up sequence. They waited in silence as the power levels for each aircraft began to creep up to flight-ready status.

Sullim shuddered, her ragged breathing whistling against her teeth.

Fizburn turned. “You all right, Sarge?”

Sullim’s head shook. “I’m still with you.”

“Can you see anything?”

Sullim looked around. “I can’t see anything. Except…”

The console beeped and Fizburn looked back — power levels were more than halfway full. When she turned back she thought the green light was blinking a bit faster. “What can you see?”

“Get this thing off me!”

Fizburn grimaced. “I don’t think that’s a hot idea, Sarge. The way that spike is jammed right into your vertebrae. Might be bad if we yank it out.” Sullim’s jaw trembled. “Can you still move okay?”

“Yes, it’s not that. It’s … making me …” She clenched her fists. “Feel strange.”

“Strange how?”

“Excited.”

“Excited how?”

Sullim groaned in frustration. “Aroused-excited.”

Fizburn’s eyes went wide. “We need to hurry!”

Fizburn spun in the chair and reached for the astro-band radio gear. “Let’s get everything set up for our message. What channel should I be dialed into?”

“Um… they’ll be monitoring the uh … emergency channels. We need to … I need …”

“Need to what?”

“Um … coded language on a … quiet civilian channel.”

“Good. Last thing they’ll expect.” Fizburn tapped at the console. “What should the message say? Sarge?” She turned to find Sullim’s pants around her ankles and one hand rubbing furiously inside her military-issue underwear.

“Sorry, I … need to. I need to so bad.”

Fizburn quickly turned back to the console. “Do what you’ve gotta do! What about the message?”

Sullim’s hand moved faster and it seemed to help. “Dinner guests in the kitchen. We’re out of wine. Mom and Aunt busy entertaining. Need … need it … oh fuck I need it so bad.”

“Focus Sarge!”

Sullim cleared her throat. “Need the spare bottles from downstairs.”

“Okay, got it!” Fizburn finished tapping and checked the power levels. “Ninety percent, Sarge. We’re close.”

“Sssssooooo close,” Sullim moaned out.

Fizburn kept her eyes locked on the console. Tense moments ticked by.

“Uh … Corporal?”

“Yeah, Sarge?”

“I … made a mistake … we need to send that message on the emergency channel.”

“Sarge? You said they were monitoring the emergency channels.”

“I made a mistake. But I’m better now.”

“Listen, Sarge …” Fizburn’s eyes moved to the ceiling. It didn’t help much. She could tell that Sullim had pulled her shirt up to her neck and was kneading her breasts with one hand. “You’re not thinking straight.

“It’s a good bet that the needle I ripped out was so the helmet could take control of your body. And it seems obvious the other one injected some sort of sex drug straight into your brain. The helmet makes you surrender. Makes you like it.”

Sullim’s body convulsed as she masturbated.

“Let’s just stick with the original plan.” Fizburn turned back to the console and found the power levels were full. “Okay, here we go! The birds are set to fly and they’ll be broadcasting our message for us too!” She flipped a switch and the screen showed the Buzzers status icons switch from yellow to green. “It’s your call, Sarge. Hit the button?”

“The button?” Behind her the wet sounds stopped. There was a shuffling and then Sullim’s voice, much calmer now. “Yes. I’ll press the button. I’m … sorry, Corporal.”

“It’s okay, Sarge.” Fizburn tapped at the controls. A safety cover over a large green button flipped open. She stood and moved the chair out of the way. “They’re ready to fly you just have to —” She turned and found Sullim standing next to the door. Her thumb was pressed to the lock button.

“Sarge?!”

“I’m really sorry, Kabie.”

The door swished open and Diamond Warriors rushed in. Fizburn dove for the console but strong blue hands caught her in mid-air. Her feet brushed up against something soft and she kicked it hard. There was a guttural cry and the hands released her. She lunged and stabbed the green button then heard the roar of Buzzer engines.

Two pairs of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around. A fourth Diamond Warrior was holding a chrome helmet. The inside of the visor was flashing with colors and kaleidoscope patterns. They pushed her head inside.

Fizburn felt a double sting on her neck.

Lt. Kanivia Riesga leaned against a shed on the edge of the palatial gardens, browned and dry from neglect. She was tired. Elexa had dropped her off on Serpentarius, near the capital, but not near enough. Out of caution from the security drones which crisscrossed the sky, Elexa was forced to land six miles from the palace just to be certain they were not spotted.

As she made the cautious, daytime trek from the outskirts of the city, Riesga still hadn’t formulated a plan. Captain Jones, now Vice Commander Jones, told her to keep her options open.

“Whatever it takes” clung to her thoughts all day, but the suns were setting again and she had no clear idea what she was going to do. She almost wished Cosmo was with her, but her decisions about her intimate “companion” were far easier to make. She was on her own.

Her mission: rescue Queen Ana – whatever it takes. A platoon of Star Rangers at her back would be handy to have right about now, but Commander Jones rightly concluded that once any shooting started the chances of getting the queen off Serpentarius would be close to impossible. One Star Ranger might be able to slip in and slip out without being discovered. At least, before Zeta and her army knew they were all there.

Was Ana imprisoned? Dead? Was she even here?

Riesga ducked down suddenly as a patrolling vessel flew unaware overhead. Then an idea struck her. It was a gamble. But what wasn’t? There were too many unknowns. What she did know was that this was the best idea she could come up with. And, hopefully, buy Jette and the others the time they needed to set their plans into motion.

She stood, took a deep breath and headed directly toward the front gate.

There was laughing and grunting as Riesga approached the main entrance to the palace with its large, decorative gate opened. Two Diamond Warriors were seated in front of it between a tiny table obviously taken from the palace. Their thick legs could barely fit underneath.

On the table were two bricks surrounded by small tiles, some of them turned over with crude designs on them. One of the Warriors turned over a tile, his head bent forward awkwardly, before looking at his companion with a wide grin. He picked up one of the bricks and slammed it across the face of the other Warrior. His head shot back, then shook. Then he let out a barking laugh.

As his head cleared, the second Warrior turned over a tile, picked up a brick and slammed his partner just above the chin, sending him flying off the chair and clanging against the palace’s outer wall.

Riesga slowed down as she took in this peculiar sight. The dazed Warrior got back into his chair and scanned the tiles carefully before turning one over. She cleared her throat, but the Diamond Warriors ignored her. A tooth flew out of the Warrior’s mouth as the brick connected to his face, bouncing off Riesga’s Star Ranger tunic.

The Diamond Warrior checked his bleeding mouth, discovered his tooth was gone and laughed again, almost manically.

“Hey!”

The two blue heads finally turned toward her, appraised her briefly, then returned to their game.

“Hey!”

One of the Warriors lifted his brick, then turned his head toward Riesga.

“I want to see the queen!” Riesga marched up to the two blue-skinned guards. “I am here to see Queen Ana.”

The Warrior grunted, then slammed the brick against the side of the head of his fellow guard. They screamed with laughter in each other’s faces.

“Listen! I am here to see the queen. My name is Kanivia Riesga. The queen knows who I am.”

The two Warriors looked at each other dumbly. As they stood, they began talking quickly to each other in the guttural, clipped language of Dal Rogo.

Riesga stood before them. “The queen would be very upset if she knew I was here and I was not allowed in to see her.  You will present me.” The Diamond Warriors didn’t know what to do. “The queen wants to see me. Right now. Take me to her. Soldiers.”

One of the Warriors shrugged as Riesga began heading for the entranceway. The reluctant Diamond Warriors hurried behind her.

Araneae marched up the ramp of the Black Widdom flagship. Its black, glossy surface matched the sheen of her own natural armor. She tugged on the short length of chain she held in her right hand. The other end was fixed to a steel collar around Flock’s neck.

The broken Star Ranger walked with her eyes downcast, thinking nearly nothing at all. In those rare moments when her own thoughts surfaced in her mind it was easier to retreat into blank slave-think rather than face her new reality. First, she’d been subverted and claimed by Queen Zeta. Now she belonged to Araneae, commander of the Black Widdom, the Goddess of Darkness’ personal shock troops.

“Come pet.” The leash tugged at her collar. “I’ve got something very special to show you.”

The outer hatch winked open like the membrane over a fish’s eye revealing the ship’s interior. Flock’s boots sounded odd on the deck and she realized it wasn’t metal. In fact, it looked organic as if the walls and floor had been grown. The surfaces were an inky black that swallowed light and hope itself.

They passed through a membrane-hatch and entered a large, round chamber with a circle of free-standing pillars forming a ring at the center of the room. The gently curving structures looked like the tusks of some great beast and were pitched forward. Bound to them, with spider-silk webs, were the struggling figures of humanoid women.

Even in her dulled, controlled mind, Flock realized it was the Warrior Women of Serpens Caput. Queen Diamanti’s personal guard. There would’ve been 12 of them, but Tiani had already been turned. A tiny part of Flock’s mind felt an odd sense of gratitude that she’d been ordered to service Uthea while that happened. She’d been so busy with her face buried in the betrayer’s ass that she hadn’t seen much of the horror show that had followed.

With growing dread, she realized she wasn’t going to be that lucky a second time.

Araneae let go of Flock’s leash and approached one of the bound warrior women. “You are Zizuhala? You are their leader?” She nodded to the women, bound to the angled columns. “Tiani tells me you are close to Queen Diamanti. Perhaps even her favorite?”

“Where is Tiani?!”

“Why, right here.” Araneae gestured and one of the Black Widdom soldiers that had secured the prisoners glided to her side. “Don’t you recognize your lover and comrade?”

Zizuhala’s face trembled with a mix of fear, anger and denial. The soldier’s body looked almost identical to the other Black Widdom: the natural armor, the long straight blonde hair. But the eyes …

“Nooo! What have you done, monster?!”

“Shared the dark gift. As it was shared with me. I’m sorry you weren’t there to see. Happily, you can watch these others complete the joining.” She smiled with her needle teeth. “Then it will be your turn.” Araneae turned and stepped out of the ring of columns. “Summon the brood weaver.”

“Yes, Commander.” The Black Widdom that had been Tiani bowed and went to a set of plant-like protuberances on the wall. She stroked them in a deliberate sequence and then the ceiling in the center of the chamber split apart and opened. The captive women watched as the opening in the roof flexed, like a sphincter, and something began to emerge.

Araneae took Flock’s chin in her hand. “Strip.”

“Yes, Commander,” Flock said in a dull voice. She pulled off her gleaming black power armor. She dropped it into a pile nearby and stood before the monster that owned her in nothing but the collar and leash. She watched as the brood weaver emerged.

The ceiling’s muscles flexed and revealed a structure of strange amorphous forms with an iridescent sheen. The bulbous formations were polished smooth, like stones in a river, and formed low walls of shimmering color. They sculpted an undulating amoebic ring that slopped downward into a natural basin, as if a reef of satiny coral had consumed some luxurious bathtub.

Lying within was a fertility goddess, a brood weaver.

The woman had the cool gray skin of the Black Widdom. Her belly was large, round and smooth topped with huge swelling breasts and dark blue nipples. She had none of the glossy black natural armor of the soldiers except from the hands to the elbows and the feet to the knees. Her eyes opened, revealing solid white orbs. She stretched her neck, shaking loose the thick black tendrils of her hair.

Araneae led Flock to the brood weaver’s dais and pointed. “Take milk from her. Do not swallow.”

“Yes, Commander,” Flock moved to obey, stepping into the basin and finding the smooth surfaces were warm to the touch and yielding like the flesh of a mushroom. The brood weaver took Flock’s hands and pulled her down to lie together. One hand drew Flock’s head to her breast while the other went between her legs. When the fingers began to delicately probe Flock’s sex she moaned and a blue nipple was pushed into her mouth. The taste was unlike anything Flock had experienced and her mouth began to tingle as she drew in more of the milk.

“That’s enough!” Araneae took her hand, pulled her up and led her to the pillar where Zizuhala was bound. The other captives cried out, fighting in their bonds.

“Stay strong, Zizuhala!”

“We are with you, sister!”

“We must endure until the twin suns rise again!”

Araneae seemed amused at this. She nodded to Flock. “Feed the milk to her.”

The column was pitched forward so that as Flock stepped closer she was beneath Zizuhala’s head. She took the captive warrior’s face in her hands. Zizuhala looked into her eyes with cold contempt.

“Traitor,” she hissed.

Flock flinched, a sharp chill running down her spine, shaking her to her core.

Araneae’s hands pinched Zizuhala’s mouth open. “Do it now.” Flock pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes and kissed Zizuhala, spitting the milk into her mouth as she’d been commanded. When it was done, Araneae forced the mouth closed and held it tight.

Flock saw the throat flex and knew it was over. Araneae released her and led Flock away. Turning away from Araneae, Flock unconsciously spat out what remained of the milk in her mouth.

Zizuhala thrashed in the bonds and clenched her stomach muscles in quick violent contractions. She tried anything to provoke her body to wretch up the vile liquid.  She tried hyperventilating, then swallowing her tongue.

But there was no escape.

Soon enough, the milk took effect. Zizuhala’s eyes became glassy and her mouth hung open. Her body went limp in the webbing. Araneae stepped close. “Zizuhala?” The warrior woman’s head swung drunkenly, her eyes swiveling awkwardly to find the person who’d spoken her name.

“Zizuhalaaaaaaa,” Araneae whispered into her captive’s ear. “I’ve come to set you all free. Doesn’t that sound nice?” The warrior woman smiled blankly and nodded. She looked around the circle of bound women and found ten pairs of eyes looking back in anguish. “Who should I set free first?”

“Larak,” Zizuhala’s mouth and tongue stumbled over the name.

A young woman with dark hair trembled and fought down panic. “Larak, it is.” Araneae stepped before the young warrior woman. “Brood weaver,” she called over her shoulder, “is her gift ready?”

Flock watched as the weaver moved onto her hands and knees within the chitin basin, rolling her ample hips in a delicious, sensuous rhythm. Then, one inky black hand snaked between her legs and stroked the folds of her sex. She began to grind forward and back, moaning and grunting as she frigged herself. Then Flock saw something black and shiny peaking from within her sex.

Her labia parted and her passage dilated as an ovoid bulb emerged. The brood weaver barked loudly as she flexed with all her might and pushed the egg out. She climaxed as it plopped into the basin between her knees. It was large, easily as big as shade melon, and had undulating irregular curves.

Araneae plucked up the egg and Flock could see it was the exact same substance as the Black Widdom’s armor.  She pressed a talon into the cleft between two segments and there was a snap-hiss as she pierced it. Then with a mighty crack, Araneae wrenched off the upper portion of the egg leaving a wide bowl shape intact.

Within the bowl there was a wriggling mass of something black and terrible.

Araneae set the bowl on the ground beneath the captive woman, between her trembling legs. The room fell silent. Then, the bowl quivered and puffed out a cloud of black pollen. The tendril twisted in the air like smoke and snaked upward. Then, it suddenly lurched forward and slipped into Larak’s mouth and nose. Her eyes went wide and her scream was stifled by more black pollen.

And then more.

A thick tendril of smoke reached from the bowl up to Larak’s face where it branched into smaller appendages. One was filling her mouth, causing her guttural moans. Two more had plunged into her nostrils. Larak’s eyes were rolled up in her head as the pollen grew more dense, less like smoke and more like liquid.

“Do you see?” Araneae purred beside Flock. “Do you see our Dark Mother’s great gift?” She gripped the back of Flock’s head and pushed her forward. Flock grimaced as she watched the tendrils invade Larak’s body. Then she noticed tiny streams of black were moving up her face and creeping toward her eyes. The streams were shimmering in a strange way. Flock realized that the streams were not smoke nor liquid.

They were spiders.

Thousands of spiders the size of pinheads were crawling over each other and into Larak. They reached her eyes and disappeared under the quivering lids. Flock recoiled but Araneae was behind her and gripped her tightly, mauling one of Flock’s pert breasts in her taloned hand. “She’s just like you,” she hissed in Flock’s ear. “Afraid. But soon… she’ll love it.”

Flock heard a wet sound and looked down. Two more tendrils had risen from the bowl and had solidified into gelatinous pseudopods. There were millions of spiders. The tendrils reached up between Larak’s legs and began to penetrate her. The captive woman shrieked and twisted in the webbing but there was no way to resist.

The other captives sobbed and howled as they looked on.

Except Zizuhala. Tiani stood beside her, toying with her sex and coaxing soft groans and dopey smiles from the drugged warrior woman. She climaxed just as the tendrils pulled free from the bowl and the whole mass of microscopic spiders disappeared into Larak.

Flock watched as Larak’s body thrashed. Her hips bucked forward and back and her groans took on a different tenor. Her eyes were tightly shut and her teeth clenched as she flailed and moaned. The pace grew quicker and quicker, her sounds growing more and more desperate. Then her mouth dropped open in a silent scream that shook her whole body.

She orgasmed.

Flock saw glossy black erupt from her nipples and creep over her areola. And also between her legs. Shiny black spilled from her labia and coated her trembling clit. Larak came again, then hung limply within the webs. When she finally opened her eyes, they were solid black.

Flock’s mind retreated in on itself. To hide in a dark corner and forget everything of who she’d been. Forget K’wari. Forget Jette and her shipmates. Her exiled parents back on Strazn. Flock would do anything to not be her anymore. She followed Araneae back to Zizuhala’s side.

The Black Widdom commander toyed with a nipple as she leaned close. “Who shall I set free now?” Zizuhala answered with a leering nod toward another captive and Araneae smiled contemptuously.

“Flock?”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Fetch more milk.”

Flock shuddered at the pleasure of obeying as she returned to the basin and sank into the brood weaver’s massive breasts.

At that same moment, on Caput, Zeta’s victory against the rebels and her nemesis Jette Jones takes a surprising turn when Jette comes face to face with the Goddess of Darkness …

Jette Jones and Suzerain Supreme Zeta stood before the nightmarish throne in the Caputian palace. They could see the figure of a woman – long arms and legs, a tightly tapered black robe and high collar leading to a face each woman saw as the most beautiful face they had ever seen.

“I have brought her before you, Goddess,” Zeta said triumphantly, leering at Jette. “Caput has fallen!”

Smoke swelled and retreated around the figure, but the dark eyes showed through the smoky haze.

“Leave us, Zeta. Continue with what I have told you to do.”

Zeta turned suddenly from Jette. The Goddess of Darkness’ golden eyes were hard, but Zeta forced her way through their dominance.

“I don’t understand.” Zeta stepped toward the apparition. “I have done all that you have asked of me.” She jabbed a finger toward Jette, then showed her Mistress anger in her green eyes. “Jette is mine!”

The voice was louder. “Two times you have failed me, Zeta. You have forced me to use all my resources so that you may accomplish what I have commanded. There will not be a third.

“I have given you Te’ Sareez. I have made you Suzerain.” Smoke billowed around the image. “All else is mine.”

Jette could see Zeta’s strength evaporate like snow before a fire.

“Zeta …”

Slowly, Zeta looked at Jette as she turned back, and for the first time Jette did not see the confident face of her longtime adversary. She saw regret.

“Yes, Goddess.”

Jette waited until the heavy door closed behind Zeta before she again faced the Goddess of Darkness. Jette summoned her courage.

“The Primons are on to you. I have shared consciousness with them. How long will it be before they come for you?”

“Now that I have you, Jette Jones, never.”

“Why?” she shot back. “Why am I so important to you? A weak human.”

“You are anything but that. I chose you. Among the trillions of lifeforms in the galaxy. You should be honored.”

Jette nearly spat. “That’s not an answer. If you are as powerful as you believe, you shouldn’t need me. You shouldn’t need Zeta. You broke with the Primons and that’s left you alone. You don’t have the power of the collective anymore. You’re as alone as I am.”

The cloud of smoke quickly dissipated. The Goddess of Darkness presented herself to Jette in her humanlike spectral form, long and dark. She raised her arms.

“I shall be freed!” She lowered them expectantly, but Jette didn’t flinch. “The Primons believed they had reached the apex of evolution. Beyond physical form. Total consciousness. Pure intellect.”

She slowly began circling Jette. “But it’s a trap, you see, Commander. Intellect without emotion, without passion. Without the ability to learn and grow through experience. What they perceive to be unlimited power is just the opposite. They left the physical world and with that they lost all connection to the reasons for existence. I want more than that.”

She had moved behind Jette, yet the Star Ranger kept her eyes forward.

“You’re just as trapped,” Jette said bitterly. “You can manipulate. You can control the minds of the humanoids you despise, but you are just as detached from the physical realm as the other Primons. That body? It’s just an illusion.”

The Goddess of Darkness flowed tantalizingly close to Jette before stopping before her once again. Then a sudden realization hit Jette like sledgehammer. “Unless …”

Everything fell into place in Jette’s memory – what she had subconsciously learned from her encounter with the Primons now in the forefront of her mind.

The ghostly face appeared to glow as it smiled broadly. Its white teeth gleaming. “Yes, Jette,” she replied, reading Jette’s open thoughts. “I crave a form of my own. That is why I chose you. A superior mind and a superior body. And humans are such sexual creatures.”

“Why didn’t you just kill me like you killed my parents?”

Jette said the words before the truth in them fully sunk in. Those painful unanswered questions given an even more painful answer.

“Your mother had to pay the price for your father thwarting me. I would have destroyed you too, but I saw a new opportunity.  Revenge at first.  But that has changed over time. I have been watching over you like a mother.”

“Fuck you.”

The specter continued undeterred. “To answer your question, you hadn’t fully developed. I may have nudged you, pushed you in certain directions, Jette Jones, but you have exceeded my expectations all on your own. A heroic Star Ranger, like your father. Resourceful. Clever. Passionate. Those are qualities I envy.”

I won’t only take your physical form. I shall join your mind to mine. Immortal! And alive.”

The image before her hadn’t moved, but Jette felt herself enveloped by it.

“What … what do you mean, take me?” Jette felt the Darkness on her skin.

“You will see. With new eyes, Jette Jones. My wait is over. Now. We join.”

Meanwhile, on Serpens Soma, Midshipman Sewena Carpenter and Elexa Dyne have made their way through its nearly abandoned capital city and reached the palace …

“You sure I’m gonna need all this stuff?”

Elexa tugged at the straps on the Star Ranger’s backpack before turning her around. “Better safe than sorry, Red. Sometimes I think Jette is out of her mind. If anyone should be going in it’s me.”

Carpenter was loaded down with Elexa’s tricks of her trade – two holsters at her hips with a blaster and an old-style, gas-propelled bullet gun, a knife in her boot, smoke bombs, a grappling hook and a mass of rope, which she slung over her shoulder. Among other things.

“I’m the Star Ranger. I can do this,” she said emphatically. Her eyes met Elexa’s and she sounded less emphatic. “I can.”

Elexa nodded. “Okay. Don’t waste any time. Snatch the queen and get your asses out the way you came in. Hit the comm once you’re outside.”

“Where will you be?”

Elexa pointed skyward. “Somewhere up there. Not much cloud cover. I may have to leave orbit. But I’ll be there for you, Red.”

The marble on Soma’s palace wall was cool on her hand as Carpenter looked up for places to find some footing. She turned back to Elexa and her head leaned to one side. “Why are you doing this?”

“Beats me.” Elexa almost let out a laugh before turning serious. “Maybe it’s for Jette. Maybe it’s for you.”  She zipped up the last of Carpenter’s laser-proof vest. “Maybe it’s time I got out of the shadows and did something that didn’t have a price tag on it.”

Carpenter’s eyes drifted down and stopped at her own belt buckle. “What’s this red button do?”

Elexa gently pushed her hand away as it pointed.

“I’m not sure myself. But if all is lost, if you’ve nothing left to try, hit it. I got it off a Xenfill spy. My opposite number. She seemed to think it was important.  She didn’t get a chance to explain what it does before I …”

“I got it.”

“Okay, kid. Scale the roof and work your way down. Move quickly, cautiously.”

Carpenter took a deep breath and nodded again. Elexa stepped back.

“One last thing, Red. Don’t fuck up.”

K’wari stood beneath the cover of a shade tree and peered through the optic scanner toward the base of Mount Vaultier. The disguised hangar doors that faced east were open. There was a large vehicle parked at the entrance and to either side she could see Diamond Warriors pouring into the hidden stronghold.

“Tell me again.” Leezah, her executive officer, was at her side. They stood at the edge of the tree line on top of a hill that overlooked the Vaultier plains. The two of them and small detachment of troops. The others were waiting back in the forest. “You said you felt something?”

K’wari lowered the scanner. “It was just a sense. A feeling of panic. Danger.”

“They must’ve been taken by surprise. But perhaps they’ve retreated into the tunnel.”

There was a distant whine. K’wari looked through the scanner again. Gold-and-green air fighters sped out of the hangar and soared into the sky.

“Buzzers!” a voice behind them called out. “Someone must have —” He never finished the sentence. There was a sharp crackling sound and then the lead fighter exploded. Then two more farther back. K’wari found the anti-aircraft batteries loaded onto the backs of two great hauling vehicles. The were white puffs and a moment later more explosions as the air wing was shot out of the sky.

There was a collective groan from behind her.

K’wari silenced them with a raised fist. “No ejections.” She looked at Leezah. “No booster packs or parachutes. Why aren’t they punching out?”

Leezah pointed to the comm soldier. “Are you monitoring? What are you hearing on the upper bands?”

A woman with large headphones checked a portable console tucked into the messenger bag slung across her shoulders. “They’re cold. No traffic.”

“Remote command.” Leezah turned back to K’wari. “No pilots.”

K’wari cocked her head. “A diversion?”

“Wait. I’ve got something!” The comm soldier pointed excitedly. “Message on the civilian band. It’s too powerful to be coming from anywhere but the mountain.”

“Read it!” Leezah barked.

“Dinner guests in the kitchen. We’re out of wine. Mom and Aunt busy entertaining. Need the spare bottles from downstairs.”

“Mom and Aunt?” K’wari asked, once the comm soldier had finished.

Leezah nodded. “The Queen. And your Star Ranger friend.”

K’wari’s heart sank.

“They’ve all been captured,” Leezah said grimly.

The soldiers around them gasped in shock.

“What?! All of them?!”

“That’s two whole divisions!”

“We’re all that’s left!”

“Quiet!” Leezah hissed. “Keep your jaws closed and your eyes open. Sky patrols could be on us any minute.” She lowered her voice. “They’re right, Vicar. Our division is all that’s left of the rebellion on Serpens Caput.”

K’wari gripped her arm firmly as she quoted the Codex of Yasu. “A battle is won through strength of arms. A war is won through good timing.” She looked back at the mountain, thinking of Jette. Thinking of Zeta and what the mad queen would do with her friend given enough time. She pushed those thoughts aside.

“We have the strength to fight. But if we attack now, we only risk the lives of our friends. Where is the tallest mountain we can reach on foot?”

“Arrow Mountain, to the south.” Leezah pointed and K’wari turned to look. Even through the forest canopy she could see a slender peak stretching into the sky.

“We have to reach that mountain by nightfall. Get everyone ready to move and alert the division in the forest to start marching.”

Leezah relayed the order and soon they were working their way down the hill. “Once we reach Mount Arrow, what are we going to do?”

K’wari’s face turned to the darkening sky on the horizon. “I’m going to make a call.”

On the border of Te’ Sareez space, an armada of silver Star Ranger rocket ships and larger attack cruisers flanks a huge, but stationary, command ship. Onboard the Mary Victor Bruce, Rear Admiral Hartley is hoping for good news but there is none to be had …

“Don’t get me wrong, Admiral.” A one-third scale holo-image of Captain Coral Pace stood atop the tactical table at the rear of the flagship’s bridge. “I appreciate you bringing so many people to the party. But I’m afraid we’ve brought a stun stick to a Vark hunt. Take a look at this.”

Holo-Pace tapped something on her hand comp and a moment later a three-dimensional image of the solar system appeared beside her.

“Simul-feed this to all captains,” Hartley ordered as she leaned over the tactical display and studied the new image.

“See this dark spot between the third and fourth planets?” Pace tapped her screen and a white circle appeared.

“Yes, we see it. What are we looking at, Captain Pace?”

“It’s about to enter our scan beams. Watch.”

The dark mass suddenly came into focus. It looked like some hulking species of manta. Two triangular wings swooped down from a diamond-shaped central core. Hartley’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a …”

“Yes, Admiral. It’s a ship. Parked between Serpens Caput and Serpentarius. We’ve been calling the target Orca.”

There was a low whistle from the tactical officer beside Hartley. “Look at the shadow it’s casting on the fourth planet. That’s colossal.”

Pace nodded. “It’s roughly the size of Africa, Sir. And there’s more.”

Hartley pulled her glasses off and cleaned them a moment before setting them back on her face. “Go on, Captain.”

“It’s heavily shielded but they drop the defense screens to allow space traffic in and out. We’ve been able to detect life signs on board. Non-humanoid. Very strange DNA signatures. We think this is the work of the renegade Primon. Her tech created this ship and its occupants.”

“Do you have an estimate?”

Pace took a deep breath. “About 12 billion lifeforms, Sir. That’s what you’d use to conquer a dozen star systems.”

Hartley shook her head at the gargantuan craft. “No. That’s what you’d use to conquer a galaxy.”

Jette shook her head violently, waking from one nightmare and falling into another. The throne room was alive with swirling colors, angles and shapes.  Her mind was reeling like a jettisoned capsule tumbling recklessly through space.

She stomped her feet to stop the spins and felt they were bare. So were her arms, spread wide. Her wrists chained by cuffs of fire which seared and cut into her flesh. She blinked hard at the unmarked skin.

She remembered the clink of her holster hitting the floor, her boots being pulled off.  Had she undressed herself or had her clothes simply disappeared from her naked body?

The Goddess of Darkness stood away from her, her golden eyes narrowed. The pain. The pain to her bound wrists intensified.  She winced her eyes closed … then her head slowly fell back and she moaned deeply. The pain was giving her pleasure!

She knew she was moistening from the flushing ache to her clit that welcomed the unwelcomed sensations. She spread her legs with guttural moan, desperate to rub herself. Pleasure and pain indistinguishable.

“There is a creature from your mythology.  One that must be invited to enter.”

The suddenness of the Goddess of Darkness’ voice made Jette shudder, triggering her back to consciousness.

“This process is very much the same.  I cannot join your body to mine unless you invite me, accept me.  How long that takes is completely yours to decide.  It is for me to make you need to.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jette said weakly and without conviction.

“Come now, Jette.  After all you have seen, all you have experienced?  How easily your crew could be seduced.  Time and again.  Different beings, different methods. But they always surrendered. You are not immune.

“You’ve just been spared.”

Jette felt her nipples plucked, then twisted. The Goddess of Darkness was impossibly far away, but she felt hands upon her. Strokes, caresses. Still, the fire continued to burn her wrists. Then her arms. Her legs. It slowly engulfed her body, even as the strange sensations of pleasure toyed with her most vulnerable spots.

Her nipples throbbed. Her body jolted with spasms. She wished to collapse, but she only stood more stiffly and straighter. The approaching climax so close … and so distant.

Golden eyes were fixed on her. He vision blurred from unfallen tears. The tease of an orgasm made her mouth drop open.

“ … not going to happen …”

The Goddess of Darkness’ long fingers folded inside her black robe, yet Jette felt a woman’s hands even more strongly on her. Her head tilted to one side and she felt a hardened fingernail scratching inside her skull. Tickling torment on her brain diffusing the last of her rebellion.

“Going to happen,” the renegade Primon purred. “Your willpower is mine.”

Suddenly,  there was a crashing at the door. Streaks of blue and orange light flew in all directions. The Goddess of Darkness stepped back … then exploded in a cloud of thick, gray smoke.

“S.R.P.V. Roosevelt at your service.”

It was Pace! She was hacking at blackened ropes which held Jette’s wrists.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Jette was wobbly as Coral held her around the waist.  She looked down and saw the beige tunic and blue jacket of a Star Ranger.  She felt boots on her feet.  Her pants and panties, however, were gone. She didn’t know why she didn’t care.

The detachment of Star Rangers hurried out the door, while Coral propped Jette’s shoulder up against the wall. Jette weakly put her hand to it now that it wasn’t spinning.

“You need more time? Jette?  We have time. We can rest here for a while.”

Jette forced herself to stand upright. She looked at Coral as if it were the first time and smiled drunkenly.

“Cor … if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes.”

Coral grinned back, wrapping her arms around Jette and squeezing affectionately. Jette found the strength to press into her in return. Jette felt light-headed, intoxicated. She couldn’t shake it.  She needed to get her composure back.  To get out of there!

But her body slumped back against the wall. Coral’s hands dropped to her waist.  Jette felt a nuzzle against her neck.

“Cor … no … not … not now,” she breathed out.

Coral left a trail of kisses upward across her cheek. “Why not now?” she whispered.  “How many times did I hit on you, Jette? And every time you said no.  We have time.  We have all the time in the world. Say yes.”

Jette felt hot breath on her lips.  Coral’s hand cupping between her legs.  Then a finger in the slit.

Her mouth opened to protest but Coral’s lips were on hers, rough, urgent lips. Jette gasped for air as Coral’s head lowered, kissing her way down toward Jette’s nakedness.

“Say yes, Jette.”

She felt the first kiss on her swollen clit and stiffened in shock. She lunged downward, grabbed Coral by the shoulders and pushed her away.

“No!”

Zeta hadn’t stopped pacing the large portico on the third floor of the palace since she left Jette with her goddess. She didn’t look out upon the capital city she had conquered.  Her victory was turning hollow.

She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t about Jette.  The Goddess of Darkness had kept her promise – she was Suzerain Supreme! She had defeated her longtime nemesis. She ruled the queendoms. But ruling Te’ Sareez and ruling the galaxy was a pitiful comparison.

Had this been part of her goddess’ plan all along? Was Zeta’s obsession with Jette Jones the precise instrument that had snatched her away?

“An Earth ship has entered Te’ Sareez, Suzerain. It is called a Rus-velt. Reinforcements are at hand.”

Zeta barely heard the words spoken behind her.

“What?”

The Black Widdom fighter stepped closer, but Zeta didn’t turn. “The battle for Te’ Sareez is about to begin, Suzerain.”

Zeta faced the soldier, taking a moment to appraise her body. Her smile turned mocking. “Is that all? I would not dare to see Caput in ashes.”

She moved to the railing, looking out but not looking anywhere. The spider woman stepped forward again. “Orders, Suzerain? We will be engaged.”

Zeta’s head turned upward, feeling the warmth of the setting suns on her face. Her thoughts began to drift … back to her carefree days as a girl. With her sister, Ana, on Serpentarius. Long before she summoned the Goddess of Darkness. Remembering then, how she was never destined to be a queen. How different her life would have been. Now, she realized, as powerful as she was, she was still never going to truly be Queen. She was just another handmaiden for the Primon who controlled her.

Her eyes steeled as she took in the ruins and devastation which surrounded the palace.

“Lower our defensive shielding, Theraphosa. Have all planetary defenses stand down. On all four planets.”

“Suzerain,” the spider soldier implored, “that will leave us open to attack! On all fronts!”

“I am quite aware of that. Engage the Star Ranger forces once they reach Caput, Soma and Kauda. And not before. Leave Serpentarius to me. I’ll handle that.” The spider soldier was frozen in place, disbelieving. “You have your orders, Theraphosa. Do it now.” The spider woman scuttled off.

Zeta began wringing her hands together. Her destiny may at last be fulfilled.

Hartley pointed at the screen.

“And therefore, in light of this new intelligence, I’m recommending the United States of Earth and every other member planet immediately invoke GSL general directive four and begin whatever end-of-world protocols they may have. Seed pod satellites, nuclear-powered motors to haul a moon to another galaxy, whatever Hail Mary plans are out there to ensure species survival in case of a cataclysmic event. It’s time to put them into play. I’ll communicate more details when possible.”

The faces of the GSL leaders staring back were grim. Finally, a man spoke. “What are you planning to do, Admiral?”

Hartley’s response was interrupted by a shrill chirp on the bridge. A crewman called out: “Incoming from the Roosevelt, Admiral!”

Hartley leaped out of her command chair. A vid-feed of Coral Pace in the command module of the Roosevelt appeared on the screen. “Report, Captain!”

“Planetary and spacecraft shielding is down! I repeat, the shielding is down! Something is happening out there!”

Hartley rushed to her comm officer. “Signal the fleet: arm weapons, set course for your assigned targets, maximum speed!”

The comm officer relayed the order. Green icons began appearing on his display. “All ships acknowledge, Admiral!”

Hartley turned back to the image of Pace. “We’re on our way, Captain. Continue on course to Serpens Caput.”

“Roger that, Sir. Roosevelt out!”

The image of Coral Pace winked out and Hartley was staring at the officials once more. “To answer your question, Sir,” Hartley’s voice was a solemn growl, “we’re going to fight!”

There was spinning again.

Jette’s eyes rolled from side to side. She was spread wide on the ground, her arms and legs splayed as far as they could go. Her clothes were gone.  She felt only the distant echoes of the phantom burning pain on her wrists.  She strained her neck to see – the cuffs of fire were gone. But in their place was something worse.  Coiled around her wrists and ankles were pythons.  So black and shiny they looked as if they were made of stone.

It was so difficult to focus. She couldn’t see her tormentor but she knew she was there.

She felt a tongue on her labia. She strained to look between her legs. A head rose above them.

“No …”

Diamanti’s long tongue licked with urgency. Such unbearable pleasure! She didn’t question why her lover was there. This wasn’t love. It was lust. Jette’s body arched into the open mouth and accepted the lewd embrace.

She blinked hard as the bronze face of her true love turned pale white, eyes green, hair red. Zeta!

Were they together? Her lovers. She opened herself to Zeta’s lips. She remembered – no lips ever felt better. She had wanted Zeta to seduce her, to trick her. But she also wanted it. Enjoyed it.  Her eyes locked on Zeta’s and a thousand images flashed in her mind.

Jette tried pinching her legs together and screamed – “This isn’t real!”

There was another flash. And everything collapsed.

Jette was not restrained as she stood naked before the Goddess of Darkness again. The room was dark, and Jette needed to squint to make out the Darkness against the blackness.

“Your resistance to my little games surprises even me,” the apparition said. “I knew I made the correct choice.”

“Do what you have to do, Primon.”

“Heroic self-sacrifice. It is a concept that still baffles me. Such burdens. I can release you of your burdens, Jette. I know you wish to be free of them.

“I know you so well.”

“Stop saying that! You may have followed me like some creepy stalker. Watching what I do.  But you don’t know what goes on in my head!”

The renegade Primon’s teeth shown in the dark. Jette’s body shook suddenly as a wave of pleasure cascaded over her, coursing through her veins. There was a thumping vibration in her head, numbing her thoughts, her flagging resistance.

A short, sharp climax made the steel collar around her neck rattle.

“Oh, but you’re wrong there, little one,” the Goddess of Darkness replied as the Star Ranger’s orgasm faded. She was almost swaying before Jette. “I know exactly what goes on in your head. You fear me, but that’s to be expected.  Your thoughts are on those who will die trying to save you.”

K’wari! Riesga! They are so far away. Stay away!!

The Primon leaned into her. “Your comrades are on their way here.  Soon, in fact.” She whispered in Jette’s ear: “They shall be destroyed.”

She stepped back, making sure Jette’s eyes were following her. “And then I will know exactly how you feel, Jette.  Guilt. What will come to pass is because of you and your heroic pride.  You could have let Zeta take Te’ Sareez.  But you didn’t. You could have surrendered to her at any time and spared your friends.  But you didn’t.  All those lives lost.”

Jette’s head fell back like it had been pushed. She stared up at the oblong-shaped ceiling which gave off the illusion of being higher than it was. Ringed by long, metal beams converging on a central point … but never connecting. Jette’s eyes focused on the center as her head slumped back limply.  She struggled to find the middle, but it only drew her in deeper. And deeper. She sensed herself leaving her body, floating upward, twirling. Then diving headlong into the hypnotic vortex.

The Goddess of Darkness hummed with approval. Jette was falling into a trance. She could feel the Primon’s hands – real hands? – stroking her chest.

“The Primons don’t mourn loss. Did you know that?” the specter continued. “They believe they are beyond the need to feel that kind of compassion.  They don’t recall the sum of a living being’s life and find it worthwhile. And yet I am considered the malevolent one.”

She lightly pinched Jette’s nipples and got the response she wanted from them. She lowered Jette’s head toward her with simply a thought.

“You find that attractive, don’t you Jette? My malevolence. And the freedom that comes with it. It’s something you desire. All the terrible things Zeta has done can’t hide the secret cravings you have for her.”

Jette forced out the last of her resolve. “That’s … not true,” she responded groggily.

“You can say it, believe it.  But it is true. You let her have her way with you, Jette. And you enjoyed it. Enjoyed her darkness.” Her lips were so close. “Enjoy the Darkness.”

Jette’s climax was shattering. The renegade’s eyes closed slowly, trying to share the sensations. To smell and taste and feel the helpless human as she shook and spasmed. The gush of what she spent dripping on the floor between her trembling legs.

“You don’t often get that luxury, Star Ranger commander.” Jette felt kissed and slapped at once. Her hands raised weakly to grab onto something, anything. “So forthright. So honest. A light in the darkness. Hmm?”

The rumbling hint of another cum sent Jette headlong into a dark world of sex and suffering. Lust and anger. Guilt and pain. Just as she had embraced the pain of fire, she began to embrace this dark side of her soul – thoughtless, carnal, selfish.

“It’s there. Feel it. I can bleed it out of you.” Hot whispers only fueled Jette’s desire for these new feelings. “You can’t go anywhere without your rayvolver at your side.  Your instrument of destruction. You wear it in a bar, at a wedding. You even wear it when you unlock the front door to that big house of yours. You won’t have to do that again, now that I’ve had it leveled to the ground.”

Jette could not comprehend that her home was destroyed. Only that its destruction now turned her on.

“How many people have you killed, Jette? Murdered. Do you keep count? You killed six people the last time you escaped from Zeta. Bad girl. You weren’t even close enough to smell their dying fear. I want to smell that for myself. Taste it on our tongue.”

A woman’s tongue sucked on hers, she was groped. She opened her eyes and instead of seeing golden eyes staring back, Jette saw thousands of stars and hundreds of galaxies outlined against the blackness.

“I like the bad girl in you, Jette. I like it so much that I want you to be a very, very bad girl for me.  How glorious it will be to share that.  I want you to be bad. And deep down, you do too.”

Moments of time flashed through Jette’s mind.

Blasting a Tarkarian before it could strike; attacking K’wari with her own rayff on the Ceres; killing an innocent Kaudan, brainwashed by Zeta, in a church.  She shook and groaned, her teeth were bared, her eyes wild. The poison of hate and anger and violence feeding her soul. And she swam in it, relished it. Pain – so much pain – giving her unrestrained pleasure.  She was awash in suffering.

The Goddess of Darkness could feel it too. The turgid sludge of humankind washed over her spectral body and began to take physical form. The minute grains of immorality within every human – even now Jette – multiplied and grew within her superhuman “body.”

“Feel me, Jette. Share my lusts. Share my untempered hate. Drown in it. Let it become you.”

Everything was spinning in Jette’s mind. Good bad love hate. There was no gray between them. The Goddess of Darkness pressed into her. Their minds and bodies sharing the perverse bounty of human sin.

“Feel me inside you, pulsating in your womanhood. My thoughts are yours. Your thoughts, your spirit, your … soul. Melding with mine. Joining. As one.”

Jette’s third climax was deep and dark and engulfing. Her essence flowed like a river between her legs. Her eyes were filled with lust. Decadence. Evil. Her grimace twisted unnaturally into a perverted smile. Her soul crossed the barrier between light and dark into a nether world of unrestrained negative energy.

She felt the Goddess of Darkness enveloping her. Their minds fusing together as one mind. One body. One soul.

Jette embraced the Darkness, at last.

To be continued …