Slither

Slither By: T.A. Creech Selati sighed, weary in a way he had never felt before. It had taken days of planning, but, finally, there was a chance for his people to win this war. It had started not quite two centuries ago. An uprising exploding into a global struggle for freedom, to shake the heavy chains of slavery from a people designed instead of born. Freedom from the very beings that created Selati and all like him, fighting for the right to simply exist as more than soulless constructs to a handful of humans. Lifting his face to the sky, Selati soaked up the last of the dwindling sunlight, wishing with every fiber of his being that this was not to be the last time he’d ever see their blood-red star set beyond the horizon. He lingered for just a moment, enjoying the sun’s warmth against the emerald and black mottled scales of his back and neck. The pale skin of his forearms tightened as picked up his bag, smarting as his muscles flexed. He’d enjoyed the warmth the light of this final day had given him, perhaps a little too much, but now he anticipated returning home. To Aleledai. His mate. His all. Mating was another precious thing the humans would take from the Caniean if they won. The list of such basic needs and wants which would become unavailable to Selati’s people was long and exacting, things that most in the galaxy took for granted. All banned simply because his people were constructs. The problem began in the 23rd century during what humans called the Great Expansion, Selati had learned, when they had come to Caniea in the Ilmare system. It was a tiny, backwater, lifeless rock circling a red giant in the Outer Arm. So humans did what they did best and terra-formed it to make the planet suitable for colonization. The process worked with surprising ease and speed. Far too fast for the human colonists to properly tend to themselves. The months following the successful remaking of the planet were difficult for the humans. Without the sheer numbers to keep up, things had started to get out of hand. Then she had an idea: Create a workforce. The possible solution garnered a great deal of support from the settlers, and she, a being whose evil heart was so black that her name would never be spoken by the Caniean until the stars died, cobbled together DNA from the humans and animals brought to initially settle the newly habitable world. A deceptively brilliant design consisting of organic, synthetic, and nano-technology had grown a body of workers in only a couple of years, composed of a great many variations to provide a large and diverse pool of natural ability for different types of work needed. Yet, no single group of constructs was as popular and adaptable as the NAGA design, so named because of their snake-human hybridization. All of them were grown—in large glass vats by the hundreds until full sized. They were programmed like robots instead of flesh and blood beings. Only because it was easier to have the NAGA monitor themselves for malfunction or damage, they were made with full, human nervous systems. Higher brain functions allowed for very complex tasks to be assigned and understood. A side effect, which was something the creators didn’t want but couldn’t fix, was the capability for emotional response and reasoning. Rumors had spread that the humans had since found a way to remedy the problem, if Selati and the Caniean failed. Selati was not eager to find out if the information were true, or, if so, what the remedy would be. Everything from his navel up was more or less human. It made the manipulation of fine tools much easier and, Selati assumed, gave the humans something familiar to which they could issue orders. The serpentine parts accounted for most of the anatomy below his waist, the economy of motion and the sheer lower body strength an appealing attribute for a beast of burden. It was the foot or so in the middle, where the transition between human and snake happened, that his body was slightly different than both. A slit in his scales hid his genitalia safely from damage or prying eyes. His p***s was actually a surprising and welcome part of his body. Considering the NAGA designers could have easily created him without one using a different waste system, he was grateful the humans didn’t think to change it or any biological function attached to his p***s. Aleledai was everything that made his life worth living, despite the hardships of war and slavery. Nothing would have been a greater sadness than to be denied the physical ability to show his mate how much Selati loved him. But with that capability was a secret only known amongst their people, a secret jealously and carefully guarded. Somehow, regardless of the hard fact that all Caniean were intentionally bred to be male, they had begun reproducing. Simply another reason Selati, indeed all of them, fought so hard to be free. He yearned for a young one to love and care for, and Aleledai refused to bring one into their world until it was safe. Selati respected his mate’s reason, so he fought this war with the dream of the day he could finally have a family.