Vexing Voss:Coletti Warlords 03By: Gail Koger
Coletti Warlords:VEXING VOSS
In 2015 something nasty found our world. They call themselves the Tai-Kok. They are malevolent, depraved ghouls who live to eat. The image of these tall, hairless, skeletal humanoids with mouths full of sharp metal teeth is forever burned into the mind of every man, woman, and child left on Earth. Completing the nightmare are their three bloodred eyes that glare out of skin so transparent you can watch as your loved ones are being digested.
No one knows how they found our world, or why they consider us good eating. The few peace delegates that tried to communicate with them got butchered. After that, everyone was too busy running for their lives to find out why.
The one good thing that resulted from the monsters’ attacks was they unified humanity. For the first time in recorded history, every country on Earth joined forces to fight the alien invaders, and Central Command was born.
The Tai-Kok ate their way across Europe and the Middle East until they had the bad luck to capture a suicide bomber and take him aboard their ship for snack time. He blew himself up over the Pacific. Luckily the ship crashed outside Tucson, Arizona. We salvaged their technology and have been using it against them ever since.
Four years ago, my cousin Kaylee Jones mated with a Coletti warlord, which proved to be a mixed blessing. The Coletti and their allies now protect Earth from Tai-Kok and Rodan raiders, but this protection came with a price. They demanded we turn over all psychic women to them. Seems they need us as breeding stock.
Why, you ask? Six hundred years ago, the Coletti race was almost wiped out in the Great Galactic War. Unfortunately for the females, chemicals used in the war created a genetic anomaly, and only one female baby was born for every one thousand males. The Coletti women were going the way of the dodo bird.
Facing extinction, the Coletti Warlords started raiding other planets and species for their prized psychic women. It didn’t matter one bit if the woman protested. They took her anyway. Once Zarek, the Overlord of the Coletti clans, discovered the Jones family’s unique psychic powers and our blood’s ability to heal cellular damage, he promptly seized control of Earth. Any woman who displayed psychic capability was immediately taken to their home world to be converted. Doesn’t that sound like fun?
My name is Zoey Jones, and there is no way in hell I’ll let them turn me into a broodmare. Am I psychic? You bet your ass I am. My shields are impenetrable, and their friggin’ mind control doesn’t work on me.
Any Warlord stupid enough to try and convert me is going to get his snake penis thingy whacked off. No, I’m not suicidal or crazy. I’m pissed. This is the United fucking States, and slavery was outlawed over a hundred years ago. Women have rights too. It’s time someone stood up to them and said no. They want a fight? They’ve got one.
“Zoey, in my office now,” my father, General Thaddeus Jones, snapped over the intercom. The general made my name sound like the foulest of cuss words. I’d been a disappointment to him since I came out of my mother’s womb female.
The general figured with his mind-control abilities and Mom’s clairvoyance, they would produce a child with off-the-charts powers. He had little use for a sickly baby who showed no signs of psychic ability. Hooyah!
He was equally unhappy with my mother, Grace, for not giving him a male heir with the traditional Jones-family powers. A botched C-section during my delivery left Mom sterile, rendering her useless to the general’s plans and the Colettis’ breeding program.
My mother actually loved the general. Why? The only reason I could come up with was daddy dearest used mind control on her. Being an ace investigative reporter, she soon discovered her not so loving husband was actively searching for her replacement. Mom divorced him when I was two and took me with her on assignments.
For fourteen years I never received a birthday or Christmas gift or even a phone call from the bastard. Once a year we got a nice letter from his attorney requesting that I be retested for psychic abilities. Father of the Year he wasn’t.
When I was sixteen, the Iraq incident triggered my psychic powers. Mom had been doing a story on the Khamisal Al-Dari, and, terrorists being terrorists, they started shooting at us infidels. When I saw Mom get hit, I totally lost it. I unleashed such a burst of power that my cousin Quinn, the head of the Siren program, felt it all the way in the Bunker, Central Command’s top-secret base.