15 years ago, they came to Colony 743.
We were the most remote, on the edge of our territory, nearly forgotten. A quiet science community populated by botanists, biologists, chemists, astronomers, benefactors, and their families. Only a few hundred of us, with nearly a whole planet to ourselves.
We thought there was no one else out here. By the time we learned we were wrong, it was too late.
The Xowei came as survivors of their kind. But it was a lie; we were already conquered on the infamous night of the welcoming ball. The event became the first symbol of war.
A war we could not escape.
They used our science against us. Gave us a cure to a respiratory side effect to some of the plants. Only the cure was coupled with a nanovirus. They claimed it was benign.
The nanovirus is a killswitch. Which we discovered the night of the ball, when they unveiled their trick.
A few hundred, conquered without a single drop of blood. Our benevolent dictators only wanted two things.
The first, our complete cooperation.
The second, our young women to breed with.
My father was one of our top scientists, the brave and peaceful man that first made contact with them, that fought for their inclusion in our community. They were fleeing war, they said. There were only a few dozen of them. Refugees. He trusted their hearts, their trade of medicine for our sick and suffering children.
After all, his daughter, a tiny child of 7, was dying. What father wouldn't at least try?
They saved us. Saved me. And then, when we celebrated their kindness, the truth came through.
They were refugees of a virus that sterilized them. Their enemies poisoned them much the way they poisoned us.
Now we were their cattle, their concubines. They were kind; they let us volunteer. Or, rather, be volunteered by our community. Many women have been chosen, seduced, defiled. A few hundred children born.
That first night, my father refused. He stood up in front of their leader and told them he had not saved his daughter only to have her poisoned by their seed.
They flipped the switch on my father. He died in silence, his heart broken.
And we surrendered.
I've been hiding ever since. The underground, rebels who play along until we have a solution or a cure, made me disappear that night. My appearance changed and my identity cleared.
Now it is my turn to serve, to be chosen. But we've planned for this. Some women sent in have been suicide soldiers, some spies.
I'm something else.
My name is Megan Davenport. And I'm the last concubine of Colony 743.
(Copyright ACP 2013)