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WINNER TAKES ALL By Way Zim. The Object; When the asteroid was first discovered by radio-astronomers, entering the solar system at an odd angle near to Jupiter orbit, not much was thought of it outside of the scientific community. It moved with slow deliberation for an object so massive, some eight miles long and three wide, passing by the gaseous giant near enough to create a momentary change of direction within that spinning colossal storm known as the Eye. But still, at this point, this celestial newcomer was more curiosity than concern to the Earth bound observers. That soon changed as a peculiar jetting of gases was seen by Hubble, erupting from oddly uniform positions along the length of the asteroid. And as the Earthers recognized a definite course correction from the regular spurts, more careful analysis of past data detected a stream of hard radiation which flowed from the far end of the intruder, almost as if something, or someone, was in control of this deceptively natural object! Simultaneously with these findings, as if the visitor knew the exact moment that talk of intelligence was being tossed about board and war rooms, a powerful signal was sent toward Earth, overriding all communications with a single image, and a message... "Attention! People of the third planet! I am Jondar, chieftain of the Norwin! We await emissaries from your world to discuss terms! Our vessel will establish orbit around the red planet, just beyond the rocky veil between that and this gas colossus! Send only the best of your males, so that we might test the mettle of your people, to see if you be comrades or chattel! End communication!" To gauge the impact this had upon the citizens of Earth, the socio-political firestorm which erupted among eight billion people who had heard this simple message delivered in all the major languages of trade and commerce at once, it would have been like trying to measure the depth of the ocean with a yard stick. The impossibly deep bass intonations of the alien was offset by its oddly human looking countenance, albeit one of stern masculinity. The strong ruddy cheeks, half buried beneath a rough thick beard of reddish-gold, the gray-green eyes looking out from every television screen, every monitor, from behind heavy brows, He looked nothing less than a fierce Norse god, returning to his planet of origin after a long absence! But even as the world religions began argue noisily with each other over the spiritual implications of this unexpected visitation, even as the desperate and quite volatile militant factions armed themselves, for what, they did not know, the leaders of Earth quickly gathered together to consider a plan of action. "Attention! People of the third planet! I am Jondar, chieftain of the Norwin! ... " The first point which they considered was that given the short time between initial contact and the communication from the self proclaimed leader of the Norwin, it seemed indicative of a civilization experienced in dealing with races outside of it's own species. We await emissaries from your world to discuss terms! ... " This, they all agreed, could be used to quell the rising fears of the populace, the sparks of chaos already flying in the Holy Lands and parts of Yugoslavia. This space-faring race was prepared to discuss terms. Our vessel will establish orbit around the red planet, just beyond the rocky veil between that and this gas colossus! " Judging from the leisurely path which the great craft took toward Mars, the Norwin knew that Earth was still inexperienced in travel between worlds. Jondar surely figured that such a meeting might take months, if not longer. But within the military circles of Russia and the United States, the tech-heads began to dust off long dormant experiments and engines once thought too costly to complete. They would show these Norwin how seriously they underestimated the people of Earth! "Send only the best of your males, so that we might test the mettle of your people, to see if you be comrades or chattel!" While the combined international team of scientists and engineers began to gather resources from both Star City in Russia and assorted government contractors within the USA, the military commanders of the planet petitioned the council to consider this last portion of the message. That Jondar spoke from a strongly paternal culture was obvious. Respect, not through the delicacies of diplomacy but through simple masculine prowess, a point to be considered in the selection of those who would meet with the Norwin. A Test of Strength was implied, and even with the potential protests from more liberal factions, it was still the role of Men to keep secure the borders of their world for all concerned. So it was that a team of some fifteen individuals, all soldiers of supreme masculinity, were assembled to meet these aliens and show them the true mettle of planet Earth! The Test; The irregular sparkle of the infinite star field through the narrow front window of the shuttle reflected in the hazel eyes of the almost boyish mission commander. Colonel Aaron Christopher reclined in his chair with a deceptive idleness which came from the prolonged zero-g journey of slightly more than a week. Even with the dismissal of all safety standards and other time consuming protocol, the launching of the highly experimental shuttle took almost a month to make reality. The vessel had been refitted with a powerful fusion drive, which was more bomb than booster for the space craft, aptly named the Ares by its military crew. But the engineers had agreed that if the untested shuttle survived lift-off, it would, in theory, achieve an acceleration far beyond that of currently active spacefaring ships. If it didn't take out the launch-pad and a chunk of land some thirty miles square in the process, that is. And while the egg-heads argued nuts & bolts, military leaders from all corners of the globe strained the resources of the intelligence net to find the ideal man to represent his planet in negotiations with the Norwin. "Do we have acquisition of target yet?" his level voice never betrayed the excitement behind the stoic handsome face of the thirty-four year old officer. But Aaron Christopher still felt the pull of History in this rendezvous, as surely as Mars touched the Ares with the first tentative pull of its gravity. Colonel Christopher, his still youthful features, surfer-boy good looks and a lean physique which concealed cable strong muscles, hid well the hard won experience of a seasoned expert in covert operations. But more important were his talents for improvisational thinking and keeping a cool head under crisis, both proven long ago in the Saudi desert... "We have a return at one hundred fifty thousand miles, sir," announced the navigator, a slim reed of a man who'd been a member of Aaron's team for some three years. The lone scientist of the crew, Chen Woo had escaped the killing fields of Cambodia, brought to the States as an infant with refugees not his family. And as he was bounced from one foster home to another, Woo discovered first his talent for tech and next his deep desire for justice against any and all oppressors. "That is a very big ship, to register so clear at this distance," declared Christopher's dusky skinned exec, his comrade in arms since the early expeditionary missions into Basra and later Baghdad itself. Kamal Bashir considered himself a disciple of the Koran, and all that it implied in his view of the world at large. Of course within the violent uncertainty of his chosen profession, as well as the short life expectancy of its practitioners, some slips in his unending contrition to Allah were inevitable. Especially when the infidel women, attracted by his exotic and extreme masculinity, tempted him in between satin sheets... "Big enough," answered Aaron in dry tones but with a sardonic wink toward Kamal. "But not so large that our special cargo won't do some damage, if all else fails." Extreme optimism had been known to kill in uncertain circumstances such as this, and the command staff could ill afford the prospect of negotiations turning sour. In anticipation of possible attack by the Norwin, a special nuclear ordinance had been placed around the engine assembly, ready to instigate an eighty megaton yield that would hopefully destroy the Norwin along with the Ares crew. "But let's do our best to see it doesn't come to that," he added for the benefit of the largely volunteer soldiery who made up the rest of the team. He saw them as redundant, backup if a firefight erupted aboard the alien vessel, as much potential cannon fodder as anything else since, in the end, they would all be instantly vaporized if Woo was forced to detonate their lethal payload with the remote in his possession... "What's the time schedule for rendezvous?" demanded Aaron of Chen whose nimble fingers called up the data in an instant. "Even with the new engines, I wouldn't expect to reach Mars orbit for at least another eight days. Unless the Norwin wish to meet us halfway..," the light tone of the navigator stopped in mid-speech as new readings flashed across his screen. It was almost as if the Norwin had grown impatient at the snails pace of the Earth ship. Their great stony vessel moving out of Mars orbit at such a rate of speed that Chen reckoned it would intercept the much smaller shuttle within twelve hours of departure from the red planet. With the immense craft filling the viewports of the Ares, Aaron found something oddly familiar about the spiral design which made up the forepart of the Norwin ship. Ornate fluted lines curved back along an otherwise seamless hull which widened to a blunt end from which jutted an indescribable assembly that could only have housed the massive drive which propelled the vessel effortlessly between star systems. "No visible windows or ports that I can see, Colonel," Chen told him as Christopher suddenly realized what this outline, dark and forbidding against the distant stars, reminded him of... "It's a God-Damn Cornucopia." Both Chen and Kamal blinked at this strange outburst from the team leader, the Colonel shaking his head with wiry amusement. "A Horn of Plenty. Can't you see it?" "Plenty of what? I wonder..," the Syrian first officer remarked dryly. "Do you have any signal from the Norwin, Woo?" It was as if the alien visitors had heard him. A light erupting from the otherwise black surface as a panel began to open, the dimensions large enough to accept a fleet of shuttles inside the enormous craft, the unknown clearly offering an invitation to the crew of the Ares to enter in. "Does that count?" the other quipped with barely disguised nervousness, both he and Bashir waiting for a response from Aaron. "The opening is easily navigable, with room to spare... " "Then I guess we don't keep our hosts waiting," interrupted Aaron rudely, caught wool-gathering by his men. "They did ask us, after all." And as Chen effortlessly brought the Ares in line with the city-sized ship, Christopher couldn't help but wonder just what that invitation implied, and what the nature of this test to come truly was... * It was a light pull from the deck of the Norwin ship which indicated an artificial gravity as the shuttle touched down with only a barely imperceptible bump to betray a less than flawless landing by it's pilot. And as they felt the somewhat uncomfortable sensation of weight, after having gone so long without, Colonel Christopher spoke over the P.A. system to the twelve men sitting with nervous anticipation in the hold. "We have no word yet from the Norwin, only this open door invitation. So here's how it's gonna work. In a few minutes, Commander Bashir, Myself, and one of you fellas, will disembark to wait for Jondar and his boys to show up. The rest of you will hang behind with Woo aboard the Ares, til I give further orders. If something goes wrong, Chen will know what to do. That is all." Kamal was already digging out the respirators as the Asian scientist checked the outside environment with a startled amusement. "We have a near earth atmosphere filling the bay, Colonel. Some odd gases in the mix, but none that would harm us. Temperature is fluctuating between 65 and 70 degrees, Fahrenheit." "Making it rather comfortable for us," Kamal responded with straight face. "What next, I wonder? A Last Meal?" Aaron chuckled at this as he and his exec cracked the egress hatch in the floor of the forward cabin. "Expecting the worst, are we?" he laughed sardonically and the other bowed his head slightly. "As the prophet says, 'Trust in Allah, But tie up your camel.'" The Colonel nodded as the third wheel entered from the cargo bay, Corporal Jamie Tanner, a weapons man from Huntsville, Alabama. High school graduate with only a year of community college under his belt when his country called, the heavily muscled kid was found to have a knack with the hardware and ordinance that made him an asset in the field. His square jawed country-boy appearance made folks underestimate his quick mind, while his easy deference to the greater authority of rank made Jamie a natural soldier. "I'm ready fer business, sa," he announced with a booming voice, the command staff hiding smiles at the boy's eagerness. Had they ever been that young? "Then let's get this show on the road," Christopher told them, Kamal lowering the ladder to the floor of the alien deck. "Let's just hope there's someone to meet us when we get there..." The odd sense that the Norwin followed their actions with uncanny accuracy continued as a curiously large door, almost nine feet in height, opened inward to the dock, some sixty feet from where the Ares sat. But when the trio of Norwin males passed beneath the top of the hatch, the Earthers saw that only inches were spared by the head of the tallest of these otherwise very human looking aliens. And as Jondar, his image unmistakable from that single broadcast across the planet, strode toward Colonel Christopher and his men, Aaron wondered at the gross miscalculation of scale by the experts at home. All were dressed in tunics of shining black hide, looking suspiciously like leather, the coarse dun colored trousers which clung tight to the impossibly thick calves was of a thin material which none of the humans could even guess at. The Norwin were, in all respects, the very image of those ancient giants who once resided in the Halls of Asgard. Only the youngest male wore no beard, his bright blue gaze staring with a benign interest at the tiny men before them, midgets next to the much larger males of his tribe. "Who speaks for your world?" boomed that voice, even louder than what had come through the pitifully inadequate audio systems where Jondar had issued his invitation. His massive barrel chest seemed to strain against the tunic, a thin smile beneath the thick fiery beard greeting the visitors with a tolerance reserved for the inferior. Even standing tall at six foot two, Aaron had an odd sense that he'd never even left the nursery when standing before Jondars' imposing form. "I'm Colonel Christopher," his level voice never betrayed this unwelcome uncertainty he felt, the eyes forced upward to stare with a cool directness at the Norwin leader. "Commissioned to speak for the whole of Earth. I'm given full authority to negotiate with your people... " "Then as leader of your clan world, you shall be the one to be tested. "Jondar interrupted. "If you win, we may negotiate with your people. If not, your world... Earth? shall become yet another conquered planet, a chattel world for our warriors..." "The Test? Now? " Aaron demanded, the other Norwin males marking off an outline, a surprisingly small circle of some forty feet across. "If you win the challenge, we can speak as equals, male to male." Jondar answered simply, as to an idiot. "As the leader, you and I will fight for three falls. If you lose, you will have proven you are less than male, only chattel to service our needs." "Colonel," Kamal interrupted with whispered urgency in Aaron's right ear. "Do you know what they're saying? The men of our world... " "You don't understand," laughed Jondar, picking up even the low tones of the exec. "Males are not chattel, for pleasure or even more mundane services. If your leader fails The Test, he will serve as an example for 'The Change' your world will soon undergo. Better to attend our needs." "But what is 'The Change'?" demanded Aaron, only to find his more powerful peer shaking an unkempt mane. "Enough! Time is wasted! After the challenge is complete, we talk. If you be chattel, you'll know 'The Change' soon enough. Step into the circle." It looked like a wrestler's ring to Christopher, and as Jondar fell into an oddly familiar stance, the soldier realized it would be free for all, his skills pitted against the unknown expertise of the giant before him. "This is stupid," he thought ruefully to himself. "We wrestle to determine the fate of an entire planet..." Aaron found himself caught off guard, stepping across the chalk-like line before he was ready. Jondar was already rushing him and the Colonel was hit full chest, his lighter frame tossed effortlessly out of the circle on his ass by the superior force. "Idiot!" he chastised himself, Jondar grinning like a cat while Kamal frowned deeply. Even Tanner looked disappointed as Christopher regained his focus. "One against you," taunted Jondar, clearly expecting a lop-sided victory over the tiny man. But Aaron was not the one to repeat error, stepping into the circle with a more cautious air. His opponent sensed the change as they circled each other, Aaron noting a sloping of Jondar's right shoulder. If he tried to come in low... The alien began with a feint, a forward charge which shifted to a half crouch, the war-lord obviously hoping cut the smaller male's legs out from under him. But Aaron surprised the giant by leaping across the broad back, slamming down hard as Jondar lost his center of gravity. The Earther rolled and regained his feet as the deck shook noticeably from Jondar's fall, an angry huff of air escaping from alien lungs. It was time for Aaron to grin at his adversary, the Norwin nodding to him with a begrudging respect, seconds before he executed another rush. Colonel Christopher spied what he thought was another feint which would repeat the earlier failed move of his opponent. But as he tried to clear the floor and leap to one side, Jondar did something unexpected! His massive shoulders rose up suddenly to intercept Aaron before the soldier could get safely get out of the way, the human tumbling as the Norwin's head hit his chest straight on. Aaron felt a rib crackle even as he tumbled out of control to land hard on the deck. "One of the falls was to your advantage," Jondar remarked with barely disguised sarcasm as Kamal and Jamie helped their leader to his feet. The Earth officer tried hard to breath even as he struggled to deal with such a swift defeat. "But the victory still goes to me." "But this is insane!" Aaron countered with injured indignation. "How can you decide the fate of a world with a simple brawl?" "You accepted the terms once you stepped within the circle," Jondar chided him. "Strength and the skills of Combat determine who is truly male, destined to rule. But it is of no consequence. If you had refused The Test, we would have taken your planet as forfeit. This way, you had the chance to acquit yourself, and your people. But enough! You have been proven to be less than male. As the leader of your clan, you will undergo 'The Change'." "Sir!" shouted Jamie with anger, ready to attack the nearest Norwin at his Colonel's command. "We don't hafta to put up with this! We can fight... !" "We need to get back to Earth in one piece, if we can," Aaron told Kamal as the warriors waited expectantly for the men to follow. "But you tell Chen to wait for our return, no more than an hour. Understood? After that, he knows what to do." Aboard the Ares, Woo saw his people leaving with the Norwin, wondering at the harsh simplicity of the Test, to determine the status of any race encountered by these colossal aliens. But the word from Bashir held its own test, to determine the character of Chen and those left behind. To relay all that had happened to Mission Control and then to make sure that the Norwin never made it to Earth to fulfill their dream of conquest. 'The Change'; "Observation and Survival," Aaron thought to himself as Jondar took the Earth- men out of the great bay into a short narrow corridor. Made of the same material, within as without, the deep mahogany stonework was engraved with strikingly simplistic runic artwork. For the sophistication of the vessel itself, all else about the Norwin seemed a deliberate step backward to a more low-tech society. He noticed that the boy was still fuming silently as Kamal spared some questioning looks toward his Colonel, otherwise also taking in the scenery. When their escorts brought them through another portal into the main body of the ark, Aaron and his team were decidedly confounded by what lay just beyond... The interior was open, an impossibly large cavern which housed a population numbering several hundred thousand strong, if not more. The imperceptibly sloping floor was given over to an area devoted to communal activities, Norwin women engaged in the business of maintaining this great spacefaring home in which they dwelled while the Norwin males worked upon obvious preparations for a more ominous task, at least where the Earth was concerned. And as Aaron's eyes followed the vertigo inducing heights to either side, he saw a staggering number of tiers which held both housing for the individual families and other buildings whose uses he couldn't quite determine. In the meanwhile, his friend's eyes were occupied with other more pleasing sights... "The women," Kamal murmured to himself, responding automatically to the near flawless sea of loveliness before him. From virginal child to aged grandmother, the tall and generally robust Norwin females were the very image of domesticity and raw sexuality. Most wore simple garments of delicate weave, either modest cloth or diaphanous fabric, which clung to the modest measure of the alien model. While somewhat imposing in height, the smaller women standing just a foot taller than Colonel Christopher, the downcast eyes and general deferential manner toward their men reflected an odd contrast to an otherwise powerful femininity. "This is where 'The Change' will take place," Jondar interrupted, as they reached what looked to be an immense city-block sized square, a gathering area for ceremony and service. "Ascend the platform as we call Assembly." Corporal Tanner couldn't even look at Colonel Christopher as they climbed twelve tall steps to the dais, where a set of pillars waited for what was obviously meant to be a public spectacle, the humiliation of the fallen before the entire Norwin tribe. But even as Jamie expected some action from his superiors, Aaron did nothing but check the chronometer on his wrist... "You shall stand between the posts," commanded Jondar harshly. "Your companions are to stand witness to 'The Change'. Your planet must know what awaits them." The Norwin men took up heavy rope which dangled from either column, tying them tight and taut so that the Colonel stood immobilized and properly abased before the gathering mob. To call the people for the ceremony, the smooth cheeked youth pressed a long curving horn to his lips, the high blast reaching even to the dizzying heights. "We have met the enemy and they have failed The Test," Jondar announced to the crowd, a sea of the curious and the openly hostile staring up at the bound Earther. "What shall we do with him?" "'The Change'," the response returned was a low murmur echoing throughout the throng, a low key reverberation which none the less filled the great cavern by the time all of the tribe answered their leader. "He has failed The Test. Be he male or Chattel?" asked Jondar, seeking confirmation as to what must happen next. His people did not disappoint. "Chattel," they told him, again with a collective voice which almost bordered on the solemn. "Then let the maids of 'The Change' come forth, so we might see what this male's defeat has brought upon himself and his race." They were three beauties, willowy in form, lovely young girls in full flower who wore diaphanous flowing gowns which managed both modesty in length and exotic tease in the wispy translucence of the fabric. Both Kamal and Aaron imagined these to be as untouched virgins, carrying the religion of the Norwin even as they carried a heavy cauldron between them. The captives smelled wafting tendrils of honey scented steam rising up from the almost pitch black vessel, even while the delicate females ascended to the platform where a place had been prepared for the priestesses and their sweet- smelling burden. Together they set the great pot in a stand made ready by their males. "This male, has he been tested?" meekly inquired a lithe lovely, doe-eyes staring out from a narrow unsmiling face. She did not turn her gaze down before Aaron as she did with the Norwin males, a detail which disturbed the Earth soldier no end. "He has failed," answered Jondar simply and the priestess nodded to her ladies who moved with eerie grace to the cauldron, the inquisitor priestess dipping a ladle into the dark liquid. One of his shapely tormentors drank deep as her sisters murmured akin to a litany, chanted in a tongue which Aaron didn't recognize. But as they spoke, this chosen girl came forward to gently stroke his bound form, expertly undoing the Velcro fastenings to his jumpsuit as she moved delicate fingers along his hard muscular frame. Even while slipping the suit off his broad shoulders, this alien seductress pressed her sweet lips to his, allowing the fluid which she'd held in her mouth to trickle into his. Taken in such a soft torturous manner, he was unable to prevent the unknown drug from running down his throat, a burning and itching invading his body while a gradual befuddlement clouded his once sharp faculties. His manhood pressed against the taut fabric of his uniform, the girl stepping away to allow another of her sisters to repeat the rite, a second siren undressing him further while passing more of the alien liquid over his lips. As the girl forced him to drink, Aaron's once confident erection vanished at once as this second dose was quickly absorbed into the man's now swiftly shifting system. The terrible cycle of change had full sway over his body now, that tickling and dull warmth grown into a fire, which seared Aaron from the inside out. And as the third priestess kissed him, filling the Earth male with more of that sweet poison, 'The Change' was altering his body enough that both Kamal and Jamie gaped in open astonishment at their leader. His thoughts were confused, the pain so overwhelming as to distract Christopher from any hope at rational thought, his mind too filled with the traumatic transmogrification of his very essence. Only the reactions from his crew hinted at the great magnitude to which the Norwin elixir had altered, was altering him. Aaron seeing an odd lust alternated with the fear in the pale faces before him. Flesh was reforming faster now, the agony so great that Aaron couldn't rightly say how much time had past. His tear blurred eyes couldn't quite see what changes had occurred, though there was a softness to his shifting frame which the soldier suspected reflected the final body being forced upon him by the Norwin. He was becoming Chattel? "Jesus!" exclaimed Jamie, the boy staring with open interest at his superior. "The Colonel's a girl!" A Girl? It was impossible, inconceivable that even a potent potion as he'd been given could affect such a change so quickly, to the degree that Tanner was suggesting ... "Not quite yet," Kamal told the corporal with a strained tone, his expression hard to read as Aaron realized the affect was working on him still, from the outside in. The dizziness which had so unnerved Christopher had slowly lessened, but a residue of uncertainty remained even as the chemical blaze which had burned away his former frame faded to a dull ache. "And so the warrior becomes the prize!" Jondar proclaimed to the assembly. "A tribute to send home as portent of what must happen to her planet... her people." The guards cut loose the naked Earther, stripped of his uniform, his sex, and so much more. Still, the flesh was far too tender for Aaron to properly appreciate 'The Change' with anything but a shell-shocked detachment. He stumbled forward but shunned the help of his men as the sexy sorceresses held up a flimsy wisp of weave, meant to cover his(?) new body... "No." Aaron could refuse in voice only, its' higher pitch strange to the officers' ears. Weak as Colonel Christopher was, the women easily had their way with Aaron, draping the abbreviate fabric about him as to accent the unmistakably feminine breasts that had sprung painfully from his once firm pecs. A long maroon stretch of silky cloth wrapped around pulled the dress in tight about the waist, the hem hung in delicate folds which ended high on the legs, barely concealing a shadowy nub between Aaron's thighs which only confirmed how deeply 'The Change' had gone in Belling the Tom... "We give you leave to go," Jondar turned to Kamal, ignoring Aaron as just another female. "Once you have reached home, we shall allow twelve turns of your world on its axis so all might prepare for The Change that must come... " "And we'll fight you!" Aaron interrupted only to find Bashir flash angry eyes toward his altered friend. "Be still!" he barked, Aaron falling into a stunned silence before she realized she'd done so. "It is the right of a condemned world to fight back," he told the barbarian with a cool voice which made the Norwin war chief smile. "And you shall only suffer needlessly before we finally do what must be done. Many will die in trying to forestall the inevitable. But you do as your conscience bids you do..." Pride before the Fall; Colonel Christopher bite her lip, even as her friend kept a firm grip on a skinny right arm, giving Aaron fair warning to stay quiet. And as their escorts brought them back into the bay where the Ares sat waiting, the transformed Colonel wondered why Chen hadn't detonated the package, as per his/her orders. She could see Woo standing beside the ladder with one of the team, the Asian officer frowning deeply as he counted three Norwin, Two Earth men, and One Woman crossing the deck toward the shuttle. "You guys okay?" his usually calm disposition seemed sour as the group approached. Aaron found Chen staring with such obvious masculine curiosity that it prompted an odd nervousness which overrode her initial indignation. "Who's the girl?" "The Girl...," Aaron sputtered in a growing rage before being rudely interrupted by her Arab exec. "..is what remains of Colonel Christopher after 'The Change'," finished Bashir in a voice obviously trying hard not to appear amused. "Apparently she's meant to be a precursor to what will happen to all our men, if the Norwin reach Earth..." "Why didn't you take care of that?" demanded Christopher, Chen having the good sense to look embarrassed at the childish outburst from his now quite feminine commander. "I think we'd better discuss this during the pre-flight prep...inside," he answered with a nod toward the nearby Norwin males. "Pre-flight...," Aaron felt that the whole universe had fallen to chaos, those odd stares from her men, the unmistakable tones of condescension from both Kamal and Chen. " ...We're leaving?" "Inside is better," the first officer repeated in a hard voice that signaled a paradigm shift, a twisting of roles which made Aaron shiver unconsciously. "But... " "Inside, now!" Kamal commanded, bringing her into line before Jondar and his warriors, all grinning with some perverse understanding which went over her head. What else had this 'Change' wrought that she couldn't see? That seed of indecision had fully blossomed into confusion for Aaron as she clambered up the ladder into the cockpit, spared the attentive stares of the males to the flash of feminine assets as her abbreviate dress fluttered up about her waist. "So? What happened?" she turned on Woo in open hostility as he and the others closed the hatch beneath them. "Why No Boom?" She felt like an idiot as Kamal chuckled lightly at her simply phrased question. But Chen shook his head slowly in response, holding out the remote which Aaron accepted. "Push the button," he suggested to her. Nothing happened. "We speculate that the Norwin have a weapon, at least from the evidence in the failure of the device to go critical," he explained cautiously, pulling up a systems schematic on his monitor. "Likely it's a very sophisticated EMP which apparently can target specific circuits, leaving others untouched." "A pulse weapon?" demanded the Colonel in a voice almost petulant in tone. "They managed to severe all connections between us and the detonating modules, destroying every bit of wiring necessary to instigate an explosion. Somehow the Norwin did a very thorough job of analyzing our energy output to detect the presence of the self-destruct device so quickly. Before we could activate the program, some odd readings we got coming from the Norwin ship must have been the activation of their own counter weapon ..." "But we can over-ride the safeties and manually push the engines into an overload...," Aaron protested, feeling a further loss of control as Chen shook his head, the narrow eyes more curious than concerned over his Colonel's increasing agitation, so unlike the normally confident officer he'd known for so long... "We have nothing left but communications and auto- navigation. We can plot a course home but that's about it." "Then we have to do this the old fashioned way," the Colonel responded far too quickly. "Tell the men to prepare for a counter against the Norwin. We'll fight our way to the drive section of their ark and blow it to bits..." "No." Kamal held up a hand. "What?" again her exec had countermanded an order from his superior, Aaron feeling her world collapsing before his insubordination. "We can't let them get to Earth..." "We have to get home, to plan a defense with better resources than we have here." Bashir told her, mildly chiding his transgendered comrade. "Chen? Initiate the return with what's left of your nav-system." "No...," Aaron struggled to regain that authority and levelheaded machismo which had carried her through all those other mission. Or was that gone with her gonads, her command as easily lost as her manhood? "I'm the head of this expedition! The UN military tribunal empowered me... " "That was before you were exposed to the Norwin drug!" Kamal interrupted angrily. "What changes you've gone through might well endanger our mission as well as the lives of your team! Reluctantly, I must assume command till such time as medics back home can determine the exact nature of your change..." "But this is mutiny!" she screamed at this usurper who'd been her best friend and indispensable associate during some hairy assignments, both in the Gulf and Central Europe. One such moment had been not even been in war, but during down time at a brothel in Madrid. Kamal and Aaron, both blind stinking drunk, facing a dozen knife wielding thugs with their pants down round their ankles, caught in mid-coitus with some delectable and quite flexible girls... "It is Survival, my dear," Kamal told her with that tone of finality which Colonel Christopher knew could not be swayed under any circumstances. "And it is... necessary." "My dear... ?" still she fought this, though not with that strength which now seemed a ghostly remnant of something that once was, which existed no more. Aaron looked to Chen for support, but the navigator purposely tended to his duties, keeping clear of this lop-sided power struggle between the greater masculine authority of the Arab commander and the acutely diminished prestige of the transgendered Colonel. "And Aaron?" Kamal remarked with a soft smile of a man who knew he'd won, his firm gaze purposely following the gentle curves of the faux female with a macho contempt, stopping deliberately at cunt and cleavage to let her know what she was in his eyes. "As delightful as your slip of a dress is? I suggest you change into something much less comfortable, so not to distract the men too much... " Removed from her command, Colonel Christopher retreated to a tiny cabin off the main deck, now quite aware of the heat generated by her crew. Most had barely known Aaron as a male, suddenly finding themselves in close quarters with someone who, to all appearances, was a sexy girl in a very arousing outfit... "Oh, God," exclaimed the Colonel in that husky feminine voice which she was quickly growing to hate. Staring at the narrow mirror, she finally saw what it was that the others had been drooling over. There was little remaining of the man that Aaron had once been, his once impressive height reduced by nearly six inches, perhaps more. The lean and powerful frame had gone over to a more fleshy but firm figure, the strong thighs and hips gaining a curve which was accented by this narrow waist that still held to some baby fat. The burn which had run rampant through his body had less destroyed than redistributed what God had given the former male, the swelling breasts, not as immodest as he'd first thought, set naturally against his, her chest. While their slight sag hinted at a body well past puberty, the prominent uplift still gave the impression of a woman holding to youth for years to come... But it was that angelic face, almost devoid of wrinkles, which brought tears to the wide innocent eyes whose disbelieving gaze could not reconcile that horrific image of feminine beauty that stared back at her. The handsome but stoic visage was gone, replaced by babysoft cheeks framed by a short mane of sandy blonde which curled sexily about the smooth temples and accented the full pouting lips, a mouth wanting for lipstick to make them kissable.... Aaron suddenly imagined the thoughts which ran through the minds of his crew. Faced with a former authority figure turned unexpectedly into... chattel. She shivered at this, a quite girlish fear taking hold as her eyes caught sight of the rapid rise and fall of her bosoms, a vision which suddenly made her hot as hell. "Just don't give them anything to look at," she whispered angrily to herself, pulling down one of her old jumpsuits to wear. Discarding the hated outfit, which the Norwin women had forced upon her, Aaron wiggled into the oversized uniform, feeling very foolish at the droopy folds which fell about her more petite form. "Let's get this over with," she sighed, opening the door to find all eyes waiting with eager anticipation for her emergence, a coming out of the closet, so to speak. She almost heard audible sighs of annoyance at the frumpy look of her too large garb, Aaron smiling inside at their disappointment as she made her way back into the cockpit. Even Kamal frowned slightly as the girl entered. His condescending stare was highly critical of her wardrobe of choice. "A terrible fit," he commented roughly. "I think Corporal Davis was a boy scout. He'll see to tailoring your clothes to something better suited for your new sex." That son of a bitch! He'd ripped into her for the body the Norwin had given her, and now he wanted Aaron to show it off? She was spoiling for another brawl, but Chen interrupted them as communication was established with Mission Control. 'At least...' thought the fuming female with girlish glee. 'The tribunal will give me back command.' But her anticipation of ascension to her former post, fell heavily as the details of the disaster unfolded to incredulous ears back home. "Commander Bashir did the right thing." These words chilled the sexy soldier to the bone, as her one hope at redemption vanished along with any remaining confidence of spirit. Even as Chen initiated the return program, the Ares easily executing the turn-about away from the Norwin ark, Control hammered in the final nail in regards to Aaron's status. "Captain Christopher is to be considered cargo, Commander," warned the gruff voice of General Warren, the tribunals' choice to handle the logistics and internal security for the Ares mission. "That means she's the Key to finding out just what the Norwin are capable of. Keep her safe from harm, Understood?" "Understood General," responded Kamal briskly, giving his former friend a wink which Aaron couldn't quite read. "Any further instructions?" His words were somewhat rattled by the explosive force of acceleration as the main drive kicked in, the shuttle now enroute to Earth. "Not at present. We'll wait till you're almost home before discussing options," the General told him. "Until then, Commander, Ending transmission." * Kamal's interpretation of keeping Aaron safe became clear as he ordered Corporal Davis, a soft spoken kid from West Virginia, to tend to her needs. If she was Cargo, he obviously wanted the girl out of his hair while the men went about the business of planning for Invasion! With harsh but sardonic instruction from Commander Bashir, the rest of the crew ignored their shapely baggage, for the most part. However, the occasional pat on her ass or odd masculine body pressed against Aaron as they passed by in the close quarter let the displaced officer know the Norwin weren't the only ones to see her as Chattel... "That pinches," she grumbled unkindly as her babysitter fussed at the refitted suit, pinning up material at the small of her back. Corporal Davis, almost bookish in his shy demeanor, had been like a Godsend to the increasingly agitated officer over the last several days, his attitude reflective of a protective brother, which calmed the now overt helplessness, which swept over the girl. "Got ta get the fit right the first time, Colonel," his soft voice explained, Aaron touched that the boy still used the old honorific even while his crewmates had abandoned it. The fit, apparently by order of Kamal, was less utilitarian than lustful design on the part of the Syrian Commander. The usually secure seal of the Velcro fastenings, running from collar to crotch, was undone about the breasts. 'For Comfort.' was how Bashir had explained it, openly pleased with the display of Aaron's deep cleavage in the tight outfit. The rest of her feminized costume was tight against her body which helped to further isolate her from the men. But even as Davis followed his superior's instructions, his kind expression never showed anything but sympathy toward Aaron. "I know," she answered with a sweet voice of gratitude. Christopher glanced about the hold, seeing it empty for the present. Kamal must have called everyone else forward. "And I do appreciate your kindness.... alot." Guided by impulse, she'd meant to give her savior a chaste kiss. But as Aaron leaned toward his left cheek, Corporal Davis turned so that his lips squarely met her, the soldier suddenly taking her face between strong hands to hold her there. Fear prevented Aaron from pulling away, even as Davis moved his grip to lightly cup her breasts beneath groping fingers, which expertly played with her now erect nipples. "Show me how grateful," he whispered with an unexpected tone of aggression, Christopher following the direction of his stare toward the small locker sized room. His nimble fingers already had the jumpsuit unzipped to her navel, that impassioned expression brooked no refusal as he effortlessly guided his prize to the only bid for privacy aboard the Ares... And as the door shut behind them, Aaron understood that her imminent deflowering would not end when they reached home. The goals of the Norwin already realized with her rape, was just a taste of the terror yet to come! The Homecoming; They waited impatiently on the steaming tarmac of Edwards, General Todd Warren and his aide, Captain Trish Stevenson. Waiting in the dry heat for the technicians to safely crack the hatch of the shuttle whose landing, some two hours before, was welcomed by a global barrage of news images and a lockdown of secrecy unprecedented in the history of the civilized world. But while no press was allowed beyond what was deemed to be a safe cordon around the heavily guarded airstrip, still they swarmed like camera laden vermin outside the high wire, barely kowtowed before the taut no-nonsense expressions of the armed soldiery. The General's weathered face reflected a displeasure, which his much younger assistant understood all too well. For the fifty-six year old veteran of one world war and countless other conflicts after, discipline in the ranks and respect for chain of command was an imperative immutable. The Mission had been an unmitigated disaster from the moment Colonel Christopher and company arrived board the Norwin ship, though even Warren admitted to himself that the civilian brain trust had screwed up royally in their hasty interpretation of data. But after specific instructions had been issued to Commander Bashir, what had occurred on the return trip to Earth... "They're opening her up, sir," Captain Stevenson interrupted his wool gathering as the field crew signaled her they were ready. Trish had been with the General for two years, treated as much as a daughter as a soldier, though his old fashioned familiarity never strayed beyond the idle condescension of a generation on the edge of obsolescence. Born into a military family, the petite officer had faced the faded but still persistent chauvinism of the Old Boy's club by downplaying her attractiveness and adopting a hard edge which hid a naturally playful femininity. The bright blue eyes brooked no argument from the men who served under her, nor derisive opinion from her superiors. Only General Warren had ever glimpsed the woman behind the soldier by his patient, albeit paternal, respect for her accomplishments. Still, old attitudes died hard. He scarcely acknowledged the salutes, which greeted the General as he and Captain Stevenson climbed the steps to the open hatchway, the old soldier musing over the odd messages received from Commander Bashir. News which upset him greatly. But even with the half truths concerning the act committed by some of the crew against Aaron, Warren did wonder just how much was the fault of the men involved... For all their guilty as hell expressions, Kamal and the team did stand to attention as General Warren entered the hold. All but the lone female who waited with an overt submissive stance before her superior. As a gasp was heard from his aide, Todd could only gaze in stunned silence at this timid girl who'd once been the most resourceful and courageous soldier in his long memory. He thought first of a natural beauty as painted by the Old Masters, the slender but otherwise robust figure devoid of the anorexic physique of modern women. What next he saw brought a deep scowl to his brow, Warren's wraith turned on Kamal who stood by with stone faced calm.. "Why is Colonel Christopher dressed like a cheap slut? " his voice was frighteningly level, though storm clouds were evident in that arctic stare as the Syrian exec allowed himself a quick glance toward Aaron, something in that look which only the girl understood. Captain Stevenson felt embarrassed to be there, an almost instinctive disdain pushing past her subconscious at the provocative uniform of the transgendered officer. Fashioned from the once utilitarian jumpsuit the skills of Davis as tailor were evident in the plunging halter top, snug across the breasts. With only a small bit of Velcro to keep the exposed cleavage from popping out unfettered, the bottom half, remade as tight low cut hip hugging pants, boldly designed for show... "She wanted to, sir," Kamal responded in a flat voice which Trish didn't care for. His stiff manner and several sly smirks among the other men suggested to the captain that there was more at work here than simple lechery. "General? If I might have a moment?" Warren ignored her, focused on his tirade against this offense to his sense of decency, even as he absently noted a stifling change in the cabin. His stern face turned toward the transformed Colonel, noting with a masculine annoyance, the soft cheeks wet from a fresh trace of tears. "You wanted to?" he demanded angrily. Trish could feel the strangeness descending upon the men, even as she felt an unexpected heat inside herself, watching with a distant detachment as the weeping girl nodded to the General. "You went to negotiate a treaty with the Norwin," Warren told Aaron with deadly patience. "Instead you ended up provoking an invasion, expected in roughly two weeks, tempted your men so that they were forced to respond to this sorry tease... " "It wasn't.... I didn't mean The General had meant to greet the transgendered officer with kindness, but there was something about her childish whimper which annoyed him deeply, even as an unexpected disgust erupted at the sight of this tearful girl... "Are you a soldier? Or a sorry little girl?" Captain Stevenson was awakened by this odd outburst, the fog which had enveloped her brain dispelled by the nasty inflection and potent arousal in Warren's voice. "General?" her question was louder now, trying to bring him back to reality. "If you're a soldier, the tribunal might have to convene a competency hearing, to call into question your right to command. If you're just a naughty girl, you might just slip by with just a spanking!" The close quarters obviously contained something which was affecting the men, though Trish had only felt it for a minute. Her mentor was lost in it's influence as he took Colonel Christopher by the arm, pulling her across his lap as he sat down on the long bench in the hold. With contemptuous strokes to her firm ass, the General paddled Aaron as he would have any wayward child, surprising even the other men by his enthusiastic punishment. "GENERAL!" the shout, of outrage and dismay, broke through the veil with Todd stopping his hand just as he prepared to lay another stroke to the eight already placed upon the prone trembling form of the Colonel. "I think we should get the crew off this ship," he told Captain Stevenson quietly, handing the now sullen but silent girl to a technician, embarrassment evident in his face. "Bring them into a controlled environment for a proper debriefing...." "We have one problem in that," Trish responded with a mild chastisement toward his exaggerated misbehavior. "How do we get Colonel Christopher out with the reporters and all those cameras waiting for the crew to disembark?" General Warren shook his head clear of the cobwebs, his anger turned inward which satisfied his aide that the crisis was over, for the moment. "I leave that in your capable hands, Captain," he told her after a minute. Silently acknowledging his subtle apology, the captain looked about at the technicians waiting patiently to complete shut-down and post flight procedures. Softly smiling to herself, Trish asked one of them to retrieve an extra suit from the lockers... * Standing amidst the milling mob of media whores and camera crews, hardly above peeping toms taking Polaroid pictures of the neighbor lady behind half lowered blinds, one real investigative journalist waited alone for that one tasty bit of news to spring board her stalled career into the big times. Kerry Graham, her gray gaze hid behind oversized sunglasses, smirking thin lips which actually filled out the lean hungry cheeks, had a readership of only three thousand print though her website registered a bit more. She was editor, publisher, and the entire staff of a very fringe newspaper called The Truth Hurts. The thirty-two year old UCLA graduate had never played the game, not with her professors, nor with the dozens of newspapers she'd apprenticed with before being fired. Fired, at least in her view, for not compromising those principles she'd thought important in keeping an objective but properly cynical view of the human race. From behind the rather attractive unkempt mane of fiery red hair, she chuckled lightly at the tech heavy idiots who argued like so many magpies at the military robots keeping the press at bay. Armed only with a note pad, as much for herself as for interviews, and a brand new telephoto lens she'd exchanged for favors from a cute female staffer at the Times, Kerry knew that what was flaunted before the world would be largely smoke and mirrors. She jotted down the moment that General Warren and his aide, Captain Stevenson, whose cool professionalism made her quite beautiful in the practiced eye of the bisexual reporter, boarded the Ares. Almost as lemmings behind their leader, a small group of some eight technicians followed them in, Kerry wishing she could've snuck in among them. Through the lens of her camera, she could see that the old War Horse was pissed, the Captain speaking calmly to him before they disappeared through the hatch. 'Maybe if I'd brought a lip reader...' chuckled Kerry to herself. Only ten minutes elapsed before one of the ground crew quickly descended the tall stairs, taking a truck toward the far hangers at the north end. No one else seemed curious, but Graham waited and watched as the technician returned, carting a small loose bundle back into the shuttle. All the while wasting film on this seemingly unimportant action, Kerry saw that the crew and their escorts were exiting the ship, moving with uncommon haste to the transport waiting for them. She popped a fresh roll in, using it up quickly while the expeditionaries were whisked away, likely in for some serious debriefing from their bosses. But even as the General moved toward the fence to issue a statement to the networks, the show was over for Kerry. What he had to say was double speech, better analyzed in the press kit afterwards. She was more interested in what was not said, the look on his face and the interesting activity round the ship.... Captain Stevenson was properly pissed as she left the General's office. Taken out of the loop on what would be important work in preparing for the Norwin invasion in order to babysit Colonel, strike that to read; former Colonel, Aaron Christopher. "From preliminary examination, Aaron has gone through a transformation unprecedented in medical History. While the doctors tell us that she's not a female in truth, more an externally feminized neuter, there were some pronounced changes in body chemistry which can't be easily explained," he had told her. "This is all very interesting, General...," she began to say before Warren held up a hand to stop her. "I decided that keeping her in confinement would be bad for Christopher, and therefore bad for the mission. I want you to take the girl to your place off base and look after her for a time." "You want me to take her to my apartment?" repeated Trish incredulously. "Risk exposing the specifics of the invasion to the general public?" "We believe that your presence will help alleviate any further anxiety for her, perhaps lessen the negative affects to her psyche as well," he told her. "But this is not a matter of discussion. You aren't asked to volunteer for this assignment, this is an order from your superiors. Understood?" "Understood, sir," Trish answered, wondering at the reasons for being given this... honor. But as much as she detested being assigned this duty, the officer would do as she was asked so long as the orders did not conflict with her conscience. But what she couldn't see was that a greater test would come in the long days ahead for the officer, and the world. Fallen Angels; The safety light cast a subdued red glow on the glistening paper as Kerry tentatively pulled the wet print from the fixer, looking for what, she couldn't say. But something worried the photographer as she examined the image of the astronauts being taken off the Ares. The fourteen men were flanked by some of the support crew, General Warren and his sexy aide following close on their heels.... the fourteen men.... suddenly the discrepancy cleared in Kerry's head as she prepared another exposure, twice enlarged. Fourteen men, together with General Warren, Captain Stevenson, and nine members of the ground crew had left the ship! Had Colonel Christopher stayed aboard for some reason? Had he been held by the Norwin, perhaps as hostage? The first proposal had too many holes for the reporter to properly speculate upon while the second bid the question, of what value was one man against the whole of Humanity? Still musing over the variables, Kerry ran the new picture through the solution, the extreme close-up of the assembly slightly blurred from the grain of the paper. She recognized Commander Bashir among the team, the rest vaguely familiar from the countless PR photos. But as she searched in vain for the mission leader, the sharp eyes of the journalist noticed Captain Stevenson with a steady hand at the elbow of one of the ground crew. Another enlargement, the face of this jumpsuit clad enigma turned slightly from the camera. But even hidden beneath a loose fitting outfit, the person escorted by Trish Stevenson was obviously female, another mystery since the only woman to enter the shuttle had been the Captain. So who was this girl? and where had Colonel Christopher gone? With an exasperated huff, Kerry picked up the extensive in the tiny dark room, dialing out to a friend who worked as a cocktail waitress at a bar where the airmen went. "Gina? It's Kerry.... yes, I know I haven't talk to you for a week, I've been busy. What? No, it isn't you, I've just been up to my neck in bills and work. Would you shush a minute and check something for me? Please? I need you to find someone for me... " As Kerry managed to get the right answer from her chatty buddy, she wondered to herself just how trashy she needed to dress to pump information from this potential source without him knowing it. "If my research is right," she giggled aloud. "It'll have to be very trashy, and he'll be the one pumping before I get anything else out of him." General Warren sat with cool indifference across from the man who likely stole the highest office in the land, President Thomas Bradley. With terrible election scandals within the major parties over the past two presidential races, it had apparently grated on the collective psyche. As this upstart dark horse from Connecticut, who'd spent barely three years in the House, made a late bid for the White House at the height of the war of words between the two primary candidates. Even as this relatively young challenger rode in on the tried and true platform of Honesty in The Presidency, the scandal of misplaced public funds, an impressive list of alleged mistresses, and examples of astonishingly conservative antics from this self proclaimed moderate, all surfaced in the popular press at once. Still, if embracing a man who possibly represented snake oil politics at its worst but most charismatic, meant breaking up the two party monopoly, the American voter was up to the task. Somehow the deadlock between his opponents enabled Bradley to squeak past with one of the slimmest wins on record... "You've given those reports to the Security Council and the UN tribunal, as requested?" the soft voice of the President asked calmly, even as he recognized the quiet negativity of so many men under his command. But he was here, by the will of the people, and any protests to the contrary was just sour grapes... "Yes, sir. We've also secured Colonel Christopher in a safe location, known only to myself and my aide," answered the General with careful tones as the First Lady, Madeline Bradley, entered the room. As Thomas was slim of build, with the gleaming good looks which Frat boys wore, when seducing the parents of Debutantes, while raping their precious daughters in the back seats of parked cars, his lawyer wife wore the cool beauty of near celibate efficiency. As with the rest of the Bradley package, she came even closer to being Ms President than others before her, Madeline reported to have several House staffers and even a few Generals at her beck and call. For some reason, Warren thought of the wives and mothers of Roman Emperors, indomitable power behind the throne, and he winced at the image... "What else do you have for me, Todd?" asked the President, even as he took his wife's hand in his. "You may speak in front of Madeline." "Security, sir," Warren reminded him, annoyed at the man's informality. "You may continue," snarled Bradley with obvious anger at being corrected by anyone, apart from his wife. "The Norwin will arrive inside the Moon's orbit about eight days from now. If the observations of the team scientist is correct, they have a specialized weapon which can release a powerful EMP pulse. Unlike the Electro-Magnetic waves we're familiar with, normally generated by a nuclear detonation, or by a burst of plasma energy like Lightning, the Norwin can apparently direct it to target specific systems." "But we have shielding against this pulse," interrupted Madeline, her beautiful azure eyes gazing with a penetrating interest which bothered Warren greatly. "Against known EMP, yes, created by a rather crude weapon of human design. We can't know how potent their device is, or what level of shielding is needed to keep them from demolishing our ability to strike back," he explained carefully, those sharply focused eyes almost reading his objections to her presence, anywhere... "And this drug which turned our manly Colonel into a Cuddly Concubine for the pleasure of the Norwin?" she pressed on, smiling slightly as her flippant choice of words made the man squirm. "Aaron only looks female from the outside, though the extreme atrophy of the male sex organs is irreparable. The drug somehow acts to violently burn out all hormones and other chemicals associated with maleness, forcing the victims own system to produce a new body chemistry to best supplement the altered outer form. It approximates feminine traits that begin to surface over time," he told her, still remembering the reproach in Captain Stevenson's face after he'd found himself with the girl across his lap... "And this change which affected her crew, the exuding of some kind of super pheromone?" Madeline continued. "It compelled the men to rape her, and you to... " "I know what it did!" General Warren roared, angry that President Bradley could not better control his wife, that she would be allowed to interrogate him like this. "But that's immaterial to the matter at hand! If the Norwin plan to disperse the drug amo