Earth’s Last Judgement Ch. 05

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Oz worked his way over his answers again.  They were as good as he could make them.  He swallowed down the pain in his side and stepped up to the front of the class to set his papers down.  The instructor nodded to him, and Oz headed out into the hall.

The others were still working at it.  He was the first of his group to finish.  It was the last of their exams for the day, and his was the last group to take it.  He pulled two capsules from his pocket -painkillers for his broken rib.  He swallowed them dry and then went to find his instructor, hobbling when there was no one left around to see it.

The bruises had finally turned yellow and green.  They were healing.  His rib stubbornly refused to stop digging into his insides, though.  He had made it four days with the Last Judgement.  And then all his hard work had been stomped out.  Every day since had been ash in his mouth.  

Once he finally did heal all the way back up, he’d be starting all over again from scratch.

Greaves hadn’t sparred with him once since the attack.  He said the boy was still too injured.  Oz had been half-mad with need from it.  He knew he was in no state to take his tests like that.  

Out of desperation, he had walked up to another cadet in the shower that morning.  Oz had recognized the boy.  He was a lost cause  He was always being dragged to the center of the flight room to be spanked and chastised for his poor performance.  He wasn’t long for this world.  

Wordlessly, Oz pulled on the small boy’s cock.  After a moment, the boy grabbed Oz’s, too. They tugged silently, feeling the stares from everyone in the room.  They heard the laughter.  Oz knew he would have laughed to see it, too:  Two failures deemed unworthy to spar with, resorting to each other for comfort in desperation.  That was peak entertainment.  

Oz turned and pressed his back against the boy’s chest.  He shut his eyes as the boy gripped his cock again.  He felt the steady beat of the hand against the hairs of his bush.  

In ten strokes, it was done.  Oz collapsed backward into the boy as thick, white streams sprayed across the wall.  The fist between his legs pumped at him harder until it slowed to a dribble.

The guilt and shame of it hit him in the face like a cold bucket of war.  He pushed the boy away the moment the hand unclenched.  Oz ran from the bathroom, not bothering to cloth himself or dry off.

His mind was clear again and getting clearer as the cold air of the base blew across his wet skin.  He knew he needed a plan.  He had to do something quickly to impress Greaves again.  Then he could regain his standing.  

The corporal wasn’t in his room when Oz returned.  The boy changed quickly, then went to search through the common areas.  Few of the trainers were around today.  The halls had seemed emptier, too.

Without someone to give him orders, Oz went back to the bedroom to wait.  He would have liked to use the flight simulator, but he needed to stay where Greaves could find him.  Instead, he read through his service manuals again and tried to stave off boredom.  

An hour later, istanbul travesti the door finally opened, and Greaves stepped inside.  He looked grim.  He hardly even seemed to see the boy.  Oz saw the fingers of the man’s hands jittering wildly.

“You’re being reassigned,” he croaked, still not looking at the boy.

Oz sat up straighter.  “Sir?”

“Tomorrow.  Or, no,” he said, shaking his head clear.  “Tonight.  Report to Corporal Anders.  2C dormitory.  I don’t remember the room.”

“I don’t understand, sir.  Was it my exam scores?”

Greaves laughed hollowly, finally looking toward him.  “No.  Lot of you are doubling up now.”  He was hardly talking above a whisper.

“Is it you?” Oz asked.  “Are you being sent away?”

The Corporal nodded, and swallowed hard, but he didn’t say anything more.  Oz tried to think through it.  If the cadets were doubling up as their trainers left for war… Then it sounded like the end.

The boy packed up his things, then folded the blanket he’d be given and set it on top of the dresser.  With a final salute, he pressed the button to open the door, and then he left, all without Greaves ever looking up.

He had worried about being able to find his new trainer in the unfamiliar wing of the floor, but it turned out to be easier than he thought.  Other cadets were already heading in that direction.  And, when they arrived through the main doors, a line had already been formed.  

“Private Dering,” he heard a large man call out amongst the noise.  “Private Dering,” he called again.  

Oz rushed forward and saluted.  “Private Dering, sir.  Reporting.”

He ushered the boy back to his room.  It was identical to Greaves’, as he expected.  The corner Oz had slept in was already occupied by a folded blanket and neat stacks of clothes and books.  The corporal pointed to it, and Oz added his things to the pile.

They made their way back toward the flight simulators and Anders directed him to an unfamiliar pod in the back of the room.  

“I have Private Perez in the pod next to us.  He is my trainee.  You’ll be flying programs together today as a team.  We’ve got increased session times going forward.  Any questions, private?”

Oz nearly mentioned his injured ribs, but bit it back before he could speak.  “No, sir,” he said instead.  He belted himself in and the pod slid shut, cutting out the noise of the room.

“Program fifty today, boys,” Anders called over the intercom.

Oz’s eyes widened.  He’d only just finished program twenty the day before, and barely in time for his check-in.

Increased session times and they were skipping over lessons.  Another ominous sign.

“Yes, sir,” Perez’s voice called over the intercom.  

“Yes, sir,” Oz added.

He braced the muscles of his core tight to protect his ribs.  Then the rush of G forces flattened him into his seat.  The pain in his side was sharp.  But it was only pain, he reminded himself.

They were part of a squadron that hurried to stop an enemy attack on another base.  Autopilot guided them in formation.  The speed istanbul travestileri cut back hard as the program disabled, dumping them at the edge of a fight already in progress.

Together, Perez and Oz followed their squad leader to the far side of the camp.  The enemy noticed them immediately.  Half their friendly AI units vanished in a wall of gunfire.  Two holes of light pierced through Oz’s craft.  The sound and wind inside the pod was suddenly deafening.  

The last of his squad cut a line through the attackers.  Then their squad leader sent them right back into the fray again.  They rolled wildly, cutting into the thickest part of the enemy fighters.  Oz swung past a wave of bullets, and it rained down the front of his ship.  

“I’ve got smoke and a damaged canopy,” Oz called over the intercom.  “No system damage, but windshield is failing,” he added, watching the hole at the bottom of the glass peeling open, the cracks of it growing rapidly.

“Perez, follow behind Dering,” Corporal Anders called over the intercom.  “Dering, aim for that class C that’s trying to escape.  You’re to be his shield.”

“Copy that,” they both called out.

The class C was protected by a tight group of fighters.  It was a heavy bomber.  The enemy rarely risked sending one, unless victory was assured.  They were too valuable to lose.

And the enemy was waiting for them to target it.  They fired at Oz with controlled bursts, taking turns to avoid wasting ammo.  Oz bobbed and weaved through the air, with Perez tailing closely behind, and the enemy grew more desperate.   More and more of their ships began to fire.  

As they got within striking distance of the bomber, Oz remembered Greaves’ words:  “When you spin that fast, you will not be avoiding enemy bullets. You make yourself a larger target.”

He breathed in, flicked the target lock on, and pulled the control sticks hard in opposite directions.  He squeezed the gun trigger tight as the world began to spin.  

Oz shut his eyes and pulled at the trigger tighter.  He heard the gun die out as the ammo ran dry.  But the pressure was too strong, and he couldn’t release the trigger.  It didn’t matter now.  

He sank lower and lower into the seat, pulling hard into the seatbelt as the G forces crept higher.  It was spinning so fast that he hardly felt it moving.  Only the horrible, crushing weight and then -darkness.

Oz gripped the seat as the pod slid open and the pressure vanished.  He held his eyes on a point in front of him and waited for the disorientation and nausea to die down.  He hadn’t been sick from the pod in a week, and he vowed to make certain Anders would never see him like that.  He was no fresh cadet anymore.  He heard Perez’s pod open a moment later.

“Not bad, privates,” Anders said from the console between them.  “Class C destroyed.  Mission complete.  So far, you’re the only cadets that made it through.”

“Perez survived then, sir?” Oz asked.

Anders shook his head and squinted as he read from the screen.  “Private Dering, you managed to get through the shields. travesti istanbul  Private Perez, it looks like you hit Private Dering’s ship when you began firing.  But, irrelevant at that point.  Between the crash of Private Dering’s ship and the sustained fire from both craft, the class C sustained critical damage to their thrusters.  And that is enough to disable it and complete the mission.

“It’s a difficult one to pass,” Anders went on.  “You ranked eight thirty-eight.”

It was Oz’s highest score to date.  He could hardly believe it.

“Eight thirty-eight!” Anders called out to the room.  “That’s the score to beat, kids!”

They ran program fifty-one in high spirits, and died swiftly.  Then they ran it again for three hours more with no better luck.

They went for an early dinner and found the mess hall unusually empty.  “They’re getting a bit of a going away party, the ones that are being sent out,” Anders told them.  “All the Majors and the Lieutenants are in today, giving them the last bit of strength they can.”

Anders waved the cadets away, but Oz found it hard to focus as he went to wait in line.  The thought of Greaves bent over, getting taken by some giant, gray-haired man, some beast with a jacket filled to the brim with pins and metals… He knew the thought would keep him up all week.

The corporal led them back to their room when he had finished his meal.  

“Private Dering, since this is your first night, you will be first.  We will alternate each evening.  If I am unable, I will arrange for a replacement,” he explained, as he undressed.

Oz was already nude.  He leaned against the mattress and stretched his hands out to grip the other side of the bed.  He heard the dispenser sighing as it spilled lube onto Anders’ hand.  

The corporal pressed his hips against Oz’s ass.  Anders still wasn’t hard.  The man’s flaccid cock dragged up and down Oz’s crack.  The man’s hands pawed at the boy’s chest and, after a few minutes, he swelled to life.

He pumped into the boy with efficient, steady strokes.  It only took half a minute before Oz wailed into the sheets, and clawed desperately to hold himself still.  His cum sprayed out in heavy streams, splattering against his shins.

“I see Greaves left you in too much need,” the man said casually.  Anders finished a few minutes later without a sound.  The mattress shifted as Perez went to lay against the bed for his turn.

The corporal slid out of Oz with a grunt.  Oz’s eyes rolled back.  The muscles of his hole stretched sweetly as he sank down to his knees.

The other boy jerked as the corporal slid up and down him.  A few minutes later, Perez squeezed his eyes shut tight as Anders pushed inside.  Their sparring took far longer.  It seemed going first wasn’t a benefit.

Anders finished silently again, then let the boys clean him up.  As he collapsed onto the mattress, the boys opened up their blanket and laid down on the corner of the ground.  Perez let Oz cuddle around him, and they wrapped the blanket around themselves tightly.

The other boy was still too aroused to sleep.  When it turned midnight, and they were both still awake, Oz gripped him tight and stroked at him.  After a few minutes, his lithe, sweaty body shook and Perez thrusted backward against him.  Oz felt the spray against his hand.

A minute later, they were both soundly asleep.

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